Tag: Cure

Meditation 030 ~Virgil, Don’t B Bad~

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Roleplay, Cosplay, and will I even make it to Halloween. With texts from my father and the things I have to do at the Day Job… If I can be real. I wish I were… uh, with Braxton. Which explains Virgil being all cuddly. “Virgil, Don’t B Bad.”

Wednesday, July 31, 2024

Meditation 030 ~Virgil, Don’t B Bad~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. No, not Virgil. He’s been a GD angel from last night to now. How long will he last?

I always expect the worst of people, including my Old Man’s dogs… But that’s a good story for another time. The question is, why am I so late talking to you today? It’s 7:30 a.m.

Humiliations Galore? Sure. But as always, let me remember my biggest sin of all. Echo,

my son is dead. It started on a Wednesday afternoon three years ago. Braxton Barks. Conversely, Virgil pulled a move from Braxton’s playbook, which explains where I am right now. Surprise, surprise, still in bed. And I have time before outside shenanigans. How about breakfast? Both Virgil and I skipped dinner last night as well, Inspector. Why? Braxton dying, me being born, not accepting what I’ve become. Monster, Savage, Coward?

Braxton’s father was my calling.

But yesterday, what was I? Don’t I always say the Day Job makes me into a villain in one way or another? There’s acting, and then there’s whatever I did at the meeting on Tuesday. Inspector, I owe the entire Harlem Nights cast an apology. Especially Della Reese as Vera.

“Are you saying I’m stealing?” Vera from Harlem Nights 1998.

Roleplay Inspector… There’s plenty I can do with that. I scare myself sometimes, and according to my coworkers, I scare them too. But aren’t I roleplaying every day anyway to get by? My Old Man texted me the other day, and I had to pretend to be okay. Echo, it’s exhausting. And the truth is…

I am not okay. I haven’t been since Braxton. It’s hard to keep pretending. They say fake it till you make it, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever make it. Only the real me…

Dead. That’s what “bad” people deserve. But to live as a monster or to die as a good man? You know that’s from the movie Shutter Island. I need to watch that. And the Olympics?

What happened to my patriotism? I’ve had a few POR… Passions. Saddens me to say. I’m starting on Day One again. But I blame the novel I’m writing. I blame Camp NaNoWriMo. But you know what, Inspector? I’m not giving up. I won’t get close to 50,000 words, but 15,000?

But why bother? What “reasonable” person imagines a girl with several gentlemen callers, I ask?

Or think to borrow… well, steal the hotel scene from Himawari wa Yoru ni Saku?

Inspector to spend the day cuddling with my boys. That’s What Makes A Good Man. Maybe. Virgil, Don’t B Bad.

1277 Days Without B III, Day 718 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

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I should have named Virgil “Cash.” Then I could say I have Cash at the house. But I was looking for the path out of Hell, so I got Virgil. Only keeping Hell “LIT” means burning money. Books, boobs, and the boys. Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

Wednesday, July 24, 2024

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I didn’t take care of my son. I don’t take care of myself. And Virgil lives with it.

How do I know? Because he stayed beside me all night for once. I guess. Protecting his meal ticket. Braxton was protecting his best friend. An unfair comparison, Echo. Noted.

But my heart is still empty since I lost Braxton. Empty? It’s still broken. And again, that’s unfair when it comes to Virgil. But as the song goes, “But love is a long, long road.”

Inspector, am I being petty? Ha-Ha, Tom Petty! Anything beats being scared, like last night. And I keep saying it… Whenever I feel frightened and/or fiendish, I think of the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Being born is the second. Braxton’s death, first.

My son died on an empty stomach. What cash I had ended my boy’s suffering.

When I was young… More like “When We Were Young.” Sometimes, I would starve myself on purpose. My pathetic hunger strikes because I wanted to die. B wanted to live.

I remember getting back from the hospital once and my Ma telling me that Braxton was nearly out of food and his water was dirty. I wasn’t ashamed of wanting to die. No. My shame is that Braxton suffered because I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was/am his father, dammit! Keeping my son alive meant that I had to stay alive. Then Braxton wasn’t.

Inspector, it should have ended there. Only an hour after Braxton was “euthanized,” I was buying a picture frame. And then in a BBQ drive-thru at my Ma’s behest. Sigh.

You see, Echo, thinking about my empty/broken heart from losing my “soul pet” means I’m not thinking about my stomach. But I’ll pick up BBQ on Thursday. If I’m not broke from the auto shop. One place is closer to me, but I like the piggie potato from the other place. Why don’t I look and scream, “Feed your head!” Uh, I’m reading Morning Star.

Yeah, and Darrow is escaping from a prison where he was nearly starved to death. Inspector, I’m empty of a conscience, too, with how I’ve been writing these days. Seriously. There’s money and time, which I have none of, which explains my exhaustion, Inspector Echo.

But Virgil has needs. Food, finding meds, and friendship. Living for Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

1270 Days Without B III, Day 711 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 016 ~Virgil, Better B Treatable~

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After V’s morning business, I’ll have a cappuccino and an aspirin… What? It beats an energy shot. I haven’t had one in weeks. Simoleons, ducketts, Dollar, dollar bills, y’all. Then V got sick. But good night’s sleep. “Virgil, Better B Treatable”

Wednesday, July 17, 2024

Meditation 016 ~Virgil, Better B Treatable~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It all starts with waking up in the morning. I’m not a Bible thumper, but I’m a sinner. I carry a guilt with me every day, a burden I can’t seem to shake. Not ever! My everlasting shame.

As for what I’ve done wrong, it varies from day to day. Let’s start with the worst thing I’ve ever done. 1263 days ago, I watched my firstborn son, my fur buddy, my Braxton, die.

I have to remind myself of that sometimes Inspector Echo. Remind myself? How dare I!

And what about the living? Virgil is right here beside me for once. It’s time to reset that sign to 0 days without painting the floors with… You don’t even want to know E. Eww!

Stomach stew galore. And once again, I was down on my knees. But I wasn’t praying as I once had for Braxton. 704 days with Virgil, and if he were to leave me now, Inspector…

Honestly, I don’t know… Feelings. I’m lost in a sea of emotions and can’t seem to find my way out. I need your understanding and guidance, my dear Inspector Echo.

Even sitting here with Virgil, I need only think of my Braxton Barks if I want to cry. But Inspector, ask me what Virgil gets. I’m tired. And I’m listening to instrumentals. Because I don’t have any words for Virgil. Yesterday was the most attention I’ve paid him in about a week. Between the Simoleon situation, “my story” (I’m trying), and my usual “adult” shenanigans.

Yeah, it usually involves some young woman’s YABBOS. However, the pair I’m currently worried about are M Anime’s. Well, wasn’t that disrespectful? I have to pull myself out of that Nightmare of hers. Or, excuse me, Sofía’s Nightmare. Somebody said something about getting over a woman by turning her into literature. And fur buddies… Maybe.

“There are only three things to be done with a woman. You can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature.” Lawrence Durrell

No wonder I got inspired.

One woman got me to blog again. Cherry got a novel trilogy. Braxton got his name in over a thousand blog posts and two more novels. M Anime has around 6,000 words at the moment. If I were to ever lose Braxton’s Aunt… who knows? Virgil has a blank slate.

Inspector, I had to do all the cleaning after he got “down with the Sickness.” And now, with a good night’s sleep, all I can do is complain about not getting to nap. So, okay.

Inspector, we’ve established that I’m no good, and no amount of sleep is enough. I’m exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I need your support now.

Because there’s no medicine for what I have. Even when I had my son. How about a ‘super’ girl? Several Simoleons? Virgil, Better B Treatable.

1263 Days Without B III, Day 704 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 006 ~Bleep, Blah, But Braxton~

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I look at myself in the mirror when I can stand it, and I want to scream, “Shut The Eff Up.” The good news is, that’s not often. I have no qualms about my body, but my face is a whole other story. Braxton had a cute face. “Bleep, Blah, But Braxton.”

Wednesday, July 7, 2021

Chronicle 006 ~Bleep, Blah, But Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and with that amount of money, hmm. I’d get my teeth fixed or just shut up.

Living was so much easier when I was apologizing to Braxton. We’re on day 157, and I haven’t stopped seeking forgiveness. Oh, I learned my lesson, Braxton; my boy’s gone. I’ve been thinking about all the apologies I owe, and I’m not like the former president. All this morning, it was fuck this, fuck that, and with everything I got going on these days. It’s how the THEY say, I’ve got no fucks left to give. Everything I have, all that I am, should be going into B’s novel, and already I’m way behind. I’ve got all this time, Inspector. Of course, this morning, I spent it gaming and on “Stuff & Thangs.” Hell, I didn’t even post, and I fucked-up again. After three days

I did write about 2,000 words, but it’s more of the same I’ve been spouting for, yes 157 Days. I’m starting to feel less like Charlie Brown and more like one of the adults, “waah.” So besides breaking my streak of, you know what, I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut. I’m talking to myself again, which is even sadder because I could at least preach at B III. No, I’m not moving towards that most dreaded word, even worse than STUPID. The big A Inspector Echo… ACCEPTANCE. Never, I say again, never. I keep crying and laying treats, hating myself even more now with all this free time I have going doing nothing. Well, of course, failing, but that’s more of my blah.

Then there’s Saturday, where if I’m lucky, my second vaccine dose may finally kill me. That’s not a joke Inspector Echo. You know me, I love my mask and hate my big mouth. As the song goes, “Hey Jealousy.” Do you remember Cherry? Well, she’s got a podcast. What oh what have been my accomplishments, I ask. A few novels for NaNoWriMo, uh, all unpublished? I have a job I hate and everything else I do to make money, well, have I made any ever? Braxton, being his father, and of course, we know how that ended. So for Saturday… Somehow if I don’t die, I’m having lunch with Braxton’s aunt, Carolina Bound. What shall we talk about? Yeah, I’m sorry, Bleep, Blah, But Braxton.

157 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 364 ~Better B Next Month~

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It’s strange when I have to start a new pile of treats. Five piles for five months since Braxton “went away.” February to June, and what have I accomplished. What am I fixin’ to do as I couldn’t fix him with four years of writing? Better B Next Month

Wednesday, June 30, 2021

Gospel 364 ~Better B Next Month~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… yeah, and what year was it I was listening to all those motivations? A Million-dollar year

If I had done so, would B be alive? Now that’s the type of question that plagues me every morning. Another would have to be, am I even going to get up and try to do something with my life. Why am I going to the Day Job when I fucking hate everyone there, Echo? B, B, and oh yeah, B. When I was young, I remember seeing this somewhere. You should pick C when you don’t know the answer for any multiple choice. So here I am saying FML, am I right? As I finally did get up and I honored my son, I saw five months have passed. Honoring Braxton, what have I done, Inspector Echo? It’s like “Last Christmas” all over again.

B’s become an errand on my to-do list. Wasn’t he always but back then, I was an A-Hole, now THEY would only call me mad. Either way, I can’t stop even after these five months. Hell, I’ve been more dedicated than when B III was here. Those last few days, on top of being sick and tired of dying, he felt the same way about me, my running behind him. I’ve had plenty of girls accuse me of being obsessive, stalkerish, scary. I was the damn Grim Reaper when it came to Braxton. You know my biggest problem Inspector, TIME. I think I have all the time in the world and when I get time, like two whole days, what do I do with them.

“Just one more year, and then you’d be happy,” as the song goes. How long have I been writing with only this blog? Five years Inspector Echo, five years starting Friday. All that time, I was telling B I would give him everything. How much time with him I wasted? Braxton didn’t live to see February, his sweet sixteen, and all the money when he wanted time. Dammit, I selfishly tried to make up for it with five days when he couldn’t do anything. Well, hiding from the Reaper, showing him with love that he was going to die soon. From Six Impossible Things to a brand new year of writing. What will I do, when will I do it, Echo? Better B Next Month

150 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 357 ~Be The Needle B~

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My arm hurts like Hell and then gets itchy. The thing is, I’m Still Standing, as the song goes. The last needles I saw before the one I got… They were for Braxton, and look how that turned out. Be The Needle B. Too bad mine are making me better?

Wednesday, June 23, 2021

Gospel 357 ~Be The Needle B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I guess I’ll grow a business acumen at some point. I rather raise Braxton.

B III made it to fifteen though I was putting my money on twenty. Hell, who am I kidding? If I had the money I strive for, I would have been figuring out a way for Braxton to outlive me at least. I hope the government ain’t lying about the price tag of a FREE Vaccine. So am I going to spend the whole week talking about getting it? As the song goes, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” I focused so much on myself 143 Days ago. As you and everyone else knows, I love my son, and I try to talk about the good times, ok. I think enough songs have hinted that love hurts sometimes. But Braxton, he loved me.

I’m sure he didn’t like me all those times I laughed at him at Banfield. It’s the same story you’ve heard a million times. “Are you going to walk in like a man, or do I have to carry you?” Every time, I was freaking out, being honest. Geez, I wonder how my Olds felt. Braxton was going there to get better, to get stitched up. How many of us like needles, Inspector Echo? Unlike the sewing kits I found in cookie tins, I always knew each needle B III felt had a good purpose. I’d see the candles, the picture frame’s message, but Braxton. The point of a pen, my fingers, the red bandage around his leg. There were three needles Inspector, 1, 2…

That’s what they say I need Inspector Echo to survive. I get two doses of the Vaccine, and then I can ditch the mask. My mask? There’s dog hair, my hoodies, anything with NaNoWriMo, and then the masks when it comes to the things I wear. I’m losing all my shields. The cloth that came with Braxton’s remains; I haven’t looked in that box again since the day he came home. There’s no treat in there, only what was once my best friend. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men as THEY say. Braxton’s hair around here fades. Today “Saturday,” I sat there as they made sure I didn’t die but if I had. I wouldn’t mind; I’ve said, Be The Needle B.

143 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 350 ~Be Free Of Cures~

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I wasn’t sick this week or the last, but I sure did stay in bed. Only I don’t need a doctor. More like I need my dog back. Another Father’s Day approaches, and here I am without my son. Be Free Of Cures because I’m already dying

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

Gospel 350 ~Be Free Of Cures~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and ignoring the obvious Ha-Ha, as the song goes, I Want A New Drug. Today… doubtful

Am I a prick for not remembering my “father’s” birthday? I know Father’s Day is on the 20th (shudders). I’m not looking forward to it. Do I have to say something, Inspector Echo? That’s only one of the many things needling at my brain today. But I’m out of bed.
Why, when I need another mental health day or several. I think I asked sometime this week, am I going to waste these next few days. If I said, I would ask a Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting “Son,” Prince of Peace. What’d you think? Obviously, I know my Bible Inspector, that’s Isaiah 9:6. Again I’m not turning towards faith. To quote more wisdom, I’m “Losing My Religion.” I lost my God, Good Boy, Greed…

Which, of course, explains that $150.00 I put in my bank account yesterday and why? I was worshipping some incredible Yabbos that are no longer talking to me. I was breaking Inspector Echo. Maitland Ward had me, and then with restraint ok hesitation… I stopped.
Well, she did, and am I ever going to learn that women aren’t the answer? I’ve been talking to M Anime and Indiana Gone, but I still remember January 31th. Indiana Gone asked what she could do, and I said, “I want my best friend back. No bucks, boobs, behavior. There’s nothing that will bring B III back to me or make the hurt go away. For a few seconds, I lose myself and feel a greater shame about something.

Which should be instead of more porn, I should get stuck. The vaccine is free and is continuing poking at me to go and get it. Today’s the day… again, I don’t think so. The masks won’t last forever, but I continue to pretend. Shall I quote Bob Marley? Three Little Birds singing, “Don’t worry about a thing. ’Cause every little thing gonna be all right.” Only it hasn’t been for 136 Days. I look at them as we approach another year down. I see Father’s Day, and here I am without my son. My Charge, my Comfort, and my Cure, to the viciousness, vitriol, and virus called Life. Is that why I’m avoiding my health? There’s no cure for death. Be Free Of Cures

136 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Log 187 ~Maybe This Will Cure~

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I’m not sick; I have some friends who are suffering through everything but I remain healthy and active but my life is something else to be sure and it doesn’t need a cure but here we are. “Maybe This Will Cure”

Saturday, January 4, 2020

Log 187 ~Maybe This Will Cure~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m awake right now. Don’t get me wrong I’m not discounting the whole 1:30 AM waking dynamic but not tomorrow. Even with a half-day, I slept most of it away, and guess what woke me up? Isn’t it always a woman? I spent most of the day talking to M Anime. For a woman, the things that men are capable of doing Lady Luna? I still remember that quote from 500 Days Of Summer, which rings as the gospel truth.

“Well, you know, Henry Miller said the best way to get over a woman is to turn her into literature.”

Like any medication, there are side effects, but I won’t go into those. Positivity is the order of the day, so how have I done this week. Well again I am the time traveler, I wrote about Friday this morning and Saturday tonight. The point is words Lady Lu like that movie Play’d “these words they have power,” I stood up to Loss Prevention Tuesday. A term that I find myself repeating is “breathe.” More than anything, I need air. Again I told M Anime the truth. So what about my “father” or MILF Dos? Today will be the day with my father, but I can’t see the future. Lady Lu, that’s facts, for example, Far Cry 5 the Nadine Abercrombie side mission Golden Age Nostalgia. Instead, I finished Larry Parker’s side missions giving me 51/52. We never know where we will find ourselves ever.

“I had nothing left to offer but pure reflex. Pure reflex and mankind’s basic drive for survival, that somehow shouts, “NO – I WILL NOT DIE TODAY!” The Beach (2000)

Now that’s where the law of attraction comes into play. Sunday I need to write my New Year’s Resolutions but what about right at this moment. I want M Anime to say YES, and then there’s another potential. How about all my problems will be solved come February 28, 2020, by PCH. I still remember how much faith I had that one day when they came so close, awarding the grand prize. There can’t be any doubt in my mind. Trust in the universe, and if that isn’t my motivation talking. My writing is going to take off this month, I know it, I will get it done. Tonight we’ll have this conversation, and I’ll wake up fresh and ready to go in the morning. I don’t need to be saved, or cured truth be told, I need to stay awake, life is not a virus that I have.

Convincing, quite the same fire and passion I give everyone still, Maybe This Will Cure.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 169 ~I Want To Be Sedated~

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I might as well have taken a job as a mannequin, ask for me tomorrow and I will be a grave man, and today I wish I was invisible or maybe I should have found somebody to cover for me. I Want To Be Sedated, and yeah I probably need a doctor.

Monday, December 17, 2018

Episode 169 ~I Want To Be Sedated~

Sixty-Third Rule Madam Justice

How To Make One Million Dollars, stay awake, if that means downing energy shots, embracing the fear, even crying; Stop Crying Your Heart Out, would say to suggest I got a heart, guts, or balls.

When you’re asleep, the monsters can’t get you, and with all the nightmares I have, not one of them compares to living them when I’m awake which brings us to today and while I want to cuss or use many words synonymous with my name, let’s Pretend We’re Dead. How I wish I were so I wasn’t there, a ghost at least, invisible perhaps; could I be deaf so I don’t hear my foot kicking my ass, maybe I didn’t understand my manager, probably I didn’t hear that girl; it was a rather innocuous request, give her something to remove hard tags. You know Justice I think I finally understand something about my parents… when they would give me those pills before I began flushing them down the toilet, I believe they wanted me to be normal but you know what went wrong, they killed who I was without question.

“Come on – You eat these. Eat these.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“No, sweetheart. I’m making you not care.” 28 Days Later (2002)

I’ve told you before, I never got bedtime stories, during the spring and summer I got Benadryl for allergies and slept forever, at school I lost myself in novels, at work its music, other times it was meds, sometimes beatings, all to kill who I am. What about religion, what about writing? Every move I make is on the grounds of not having to face the coward I see staring back at me, so scared to ask someone their name.

Some find solace in alcohol, some in food, some in facing death but honestly when being asked to go to the front of the store and ask a question makes me want to fall? Hell Madam Justice, I have rarely taken the highway, I don’t look at fast-food menus, I wash my car rather than go and get it cleaned. Okay, this sounds more like Inspector Echo’s territory, but the fact of the matter is, well, one of my Motivations talked about how many decisions we make per day, good ones anyway and how many of mine go to how to keep breathing you understand.

How about what they call Confidence you say, that’s the real sedation, talk about not caring and staying wide awake, immunity to the world but that cure is beyond me at this point, but to quote another one of my Motivations “It’s Possible.” I never forget you understand but I can numb myself to plenty, you still remember “that girl” putting my name on her blog, the family that probably wants me dead and I’m in for trouble at work tomorrow gulp, but I’m awake, I know, feel, and believe, I Want To Be Sedated.

‘With endless love, we left you sleeping. Now we’re sleeping with you. Don’t wake up. X’” 28 Days Later (2002)

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 250 ~U R A Fever~

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I can honestly say I didn’t expect to be writing this at the moment, a beautiful woman, a fantasy worthy of any porn but today I’m just the guy that couldn’t play the game. U R A Fever; was it because I’m sick?

Thursday, March 8, 2018

Lesson 250 ~U R A Fever~

WARNING, 18+, READER DISCRETION ADVISED

Come In Dirty Diana,
I Am Not Afraid Anymore, only for once I wish I was, it would keep me from making an ass of myself and speaking of which why does hers have to be so lovely, the things you notice when you’re horny. My mother taught me never to go shopping when you’re hungry because you’re sure to buy anything and don’t I have money burning a hole in my pocket right now.

“All that hate’s gonna burn you up, kid.
It keeps me warm.” Red Dawn (1984)

I’m not mad either, okay that’s a lie, but I’m mad at myself, a Dominant indeed any man, in general, isn’t going to score every time, it’s that fire, that heat, that keeps him going out there as if I’ve been going out there. Maybe tomorrow but seeing as how today didn’t go somewhat as planned; blew up in my face is more like it, back to Amazon I go. Hell, a Dominant has to spend money, not Christian Grey money but I like beautiful submissives. As the song goes “this is why I’m hot” because I’m horny, big surprise there right? I’m back to hating myself at the moment, and the heat is on, though the weather is warm. She told me that was my master plan to get her clothes off. I wish I were that smart honestly.

If you want to know how I saw this day going; she would sit on my bed, and I would show her the closet I cleaned out, just for submissive wear as I told her, you’re a gift, that’s why I wrap you in such pretty things. And I want to unwrap you. Now maybe this is something you need to learn *pulls out Playboy Scholar uniform*, and this must seem like Wonderland to you *pulls out Miss Wonderland costume* but princess *pulls out Enchanted Bikini Belle* you’re mine. I still haven’t thought of anything for the Asian inspired getup but I will, only my game is, just shit; not the shit just shit, you know game recognize game, Diana.

“The willingness to walk away, above all other factors, does more to tell a woman of your high value than any amount of money can. You must be prepared to follow through and to fully believe that you’ll never see or hear from her again, because women instinctively know when you’re faking.”
― Roosh V, Bang: The Pickup Bible That Helps You Get More Lays

You know how these days the cure is usually worse than the virus, for me if I’ going to get over my fever for one girl I have to burn for something so much hotter. So these past few days I’ve imagined this “Black Room” you know like “The Red Room of Pain.” It just doesn’t solve the underlying issue of a lack of females in this house, but at least I’m still not “Fapping” but seriously that girl, to say, U R A Fever.

I Will Have No Fear