Tag: Christmas Eve

Meditation 177 ~We’ll B Merry Virgil~

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I know how to ruin a holiday. I am my father’s son. And all it took was a message to come *home*. Like my son B, we have peculiar ideas about home. Safe in our warm beds not somewhere over the rainbow or a white Christmas. “We’ll B Merry Virgil”

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

Meditation 177 ~We’ll B Merry Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Oh! And Merry Christmas… But what do I know, seeing as today is the 23rd… 24th, Inspector Echo?

But Gee Whiz, It’s Christmas. So why am I like this today? It’s like I’m my Old Man having to apologize for yelling on Christmas Day. One of the few times he ever did, Echo.

Usually, he would get my Ma to do it. And speaking of my Olds, that’s part of the reason we’re talking this evening. I don’t know what I dread more: getting a call to come home or not. As I lack any other opportunities, I would rather stay here starving.

Inspector, sigh, bed is where I want to be. And you know I can go without food for a bit. And while I won’t discuss what I got for Christmas, there are always my comparisons. Wednesday’s Family vs. Thursday’s Hell.

Better known as having a Day Job. Hey, sometimes I get paid early. As if it matters. Do you see a tree or stockings here? I didn’t even spring for one of those candles that smells like cookies. My Ma regretted that decision one Christmas Eve, my dear Inspector Echo.

The Olds will provide… If I’m not becoming my Old Man. Then you can call me Scrooge, Inspector. And yes, I know this is sad for me and for what Braxton wants for me and his little brother. Braxton’s Aunt, M Anime, Cherry, my Ma, my younger sister, and even my nephews. His heart grew three sizes that day, THEY say. This Grinch, Santa Claus…

Inspector, I didn’t ask Santa to mend my broken heart, the one that shattered when I lost my little Braxton.

I didn’t ask for a lot of things. And if you asked me yesterday… The 23rd. What did I want most of all? I’ll admit I would have been at a loss. But Thursday, December 24, 2024, at 2:44 PM, well… I want to join my son, as I told Dear Future Wife. Braxton’s Life… Inspector, the desire to have my son back never goes away. Then there’s the people!

Inspector, I swear I only wanted to go to the bank, pet store, and, sadly, the gas station so I might acquiesce to my father’s wishes. Unless Santa takes me in my sleep. The North Pole, Ninth Circle, Home… Same difference. Because being merry this week… Christmas Day. Not very bright… We’ll B Merry Virgil

1424 Days Without B III, Day 865 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 176 ~BelieVe With B, V~

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Christmas Eve, and I still believe… in Santa? Nope! But I’ll watch the NORAD Santa Tracker. It was a tradition for Braxton and I. We weren’t big on the whole Jesus thing. But we had each other. And now I’m anything but a wise man “BelieVe With B, V.”

Sunday, December 24, 2023

Tale 176 ~BelieVe With B, V~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror. After yesterday’s debacle… can’t wait until Monday. Anyway, today, I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd.

Or the little drummer boy… What about a wise man? Considering Braxton was your savior, why not be the father? Joseph, not God. No Mary?

Anyway, here you are on Christmas Eve. I wish I could say that while I looked up music yesterday, it was all about Christmas. No worries. While I wasn’t in the best state of mind, you have a Christmas playlist ready to go. Ma’s Traditions, you know. Listening to Christmas music all day. I can’t say I’ve seen anything with holiday cheer. Well, short of Mary Cherry’s reaction to The Muppets Christmas Carol. Oh, what about tonight and Christmas? Music, TV, to drown out the fans… uh, it’s hard being the shepherd. Happy thoughts or like doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING “His Christmas Harem,” “Snow Help Me”
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 002, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 000 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Of course, you’ll keep reading Christmas stories… of a particular variety. You know, the kind that you can’t speak out loud to Virgil. But at the very least, you were on the couch with V. A wise man must study. But I doubt most did it from bed. No, they were far too busy following the stars in the sky. And you’re looking to the stars on the internet. Right? Speaking of which. As The Killers sang, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” Christmas music, remember? Hell! When you finally decide to “c’mon get happy,” you will be old enough to be a wise man. Three old men showing up with stuff to some young girl who’s a virgin… Uh yeah, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING To Be Determined Sometime This Week
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 000, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Keep trying to be the shepherd. It’s like your happy, no, good, nah, soft thoughts. Christmas thoughts. Those gentle memories keep getting picked off by wolves at every opportunity. And again, it’s Christmas Eve. You should be better than this. And what exactly does that mean here at thirty-nine? Christmas Eve morning started with tears. There’d be no need to if you didn’t believe. Maybe not in Santa, but always and forever in Little Braxton. If Santa is still around, so is your son. That’s your job. He’s your gift. You can believe this day won’t be as horrible, and Virgil will become courageous. Yeah, he’s in Braxton’s room now. Will you shepherd him, your thoughts, anything good on this Christmas? BelieVe With B, V

1057 Days Without B III, Day 498 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Lesson 175 ~Good Morning, Evening, Goodnight~

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No Eve on Christmas Eve so I suppose I only have myself to blame and yet more presents to buy than ever, even with free therapy sessions and that’s “good” right, more friends, more writing, more hope maybe. Good Morning, Evening, Goodnight.

Saturday, December 23, 2017

Lesson 175 ~Good Morning, Evening, Goodnight~

Hey Lady Lu,
No Fear, I’m still not one for Etymology, but if there were a few words, I want to focus on today how about “good,” “Christmas” in particular “Eve” to be honest. How about depression, sorry if that’s my mood as of late, but I’m looking for a quick explanation rather than a manifesto or another full-blown novel, so yes no fear today.

Not like this morning; last night I had a nightmare that’s been echoing in my brain all day, something about me and one of my ex-bosses and going after them… hell, most days I spend my afternoons and evenings trying to forget. Was it a dream, some part reality, I’m sure I wasn’t in the office with Morris Chestnut telling me that my anger was going to get me into trouble. As much as I HATE my job, I still need it, and I’m working on Christmas Eve, only Christmas Eve the whole week which scares me, no fear, I keep forgetting, but I’m always awaiting the bad news truthfully.

What about good, mornings are never, afternoons, evenings, nights, all just spaces of time that are anything but “good,” most often “bad” but what do I classify as “good”? As far as Christmas, every year is even less Christmas than the last, any cookies, movies, music that I tuned out a long time ago, again a space of time that if anything makes me sad. What about Eve, a woman tempted who brought about the dark, no I’m not a theologian either, and I’m too lazy to look up the nuances of the word eve and speaking of lazy what about gifts… I make one lousy friend don’t you think?

Is there such a thing as a “good” patient though, with my depression you should be making a ton Lady Lu, and I will get to pay you to once everything is “good.” Now that is a word I need to define, how about joyful, happy, and then, of course, there is love which brings us back to “it’s the most “wonderful” time of the year” or maybe not, perhaps once upon a time right?

Back when I thought of myself as “good,” again when a sentiment such as good morning wasn’t a lie; when Christmas and or Eve was a time to be alive and not just another day before Good Morning, Evening, Goodnight.

I Will Have No Fear