Tale 258 ~Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil~

To be continued? In this existence. I’m tempted to say those are the worst words ever written. But no, those are, Goodbye, Braxton, I love you. Then, Good Morning V. Then, people at the Day Job. And these typing fingers. “Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil.”

Friday, March 15, 2024

Tale 258 ~Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or better yet, learn English. And how about Math? Or telling time. Friday, March 8, 2024

And here we are again. First, I should let you know that Virgil is feeling better… Don’t count your chickens, right? But he’s stopped “being sick.” Only I never learn. I shared some fries with him. And considering what happened at McDonald’s. Be very afraid.

Only not of the storm outside. I can’t believe I was out there and all for a fish meal. Hmm.

This morning, you had to read all about my anger. But this afternoon, there’s fear.

Inevitable, right? Like all the mistakes I make. For example, the worst pain I’ve felt.

Watching my son die is worse than anything I’ve ever written. My Braxton is dead. Sophia, the next thing would be waking up every day. “Throw The Covers” over me.

After that? You can see what I’m doing now: writing about a future I don’t want to see. But, being honest, I am sitting in this bed waiting to die. And it hurts. Oh, how it hurts, Sophia! One more day to read and write about how much of a failure this existence has become.

Sophia, sigh, I can’t tell you what book I’m wasting my time with next. Whatever.

Learning isn’t my highest priority because every word and number makes me feel even worse about myself. Why do you think I read so much about grieving fur babies, Sophia? I get to cry, and books in the HaremLit genre get other bodily fluids out of me. I know, gross! And again, Math books… suffering. But at least I get to cry some more today.

Virgil’s not dying. But what about that trip to the groomers that I promised him?

Breaking another promise, like when I promised to save Braxton’s life. Even before that. I said that writing would be our future. And I might have time, checking my schedule…

But it’s too late for B now. And even if I wrote the best book, what would it be for? So that I could afford to pay sixteen dollars for a fish sandwich. Instead of eight and being humiliated by some McDonald’s cashier. That’s it, Lady Sophia. The End, maybe.

Because to be continued, the anger, humiliation, loss, and everything that comes with writing this existence! Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil

1139 Days Without B III, Day 580 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 257 ~Willie B Shopping, Virgil~

What did it cost you? Everything. Holding back anger and being indifferent to the needs of my boy. As I was trying to make pennies for us. When B was trying to tell me. Dog is trying to tell me something. We need stuff! No! Willie B Shopping, Virgil

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Tale 257 ~Willie B Shopping, Virgil~

1138 Days Without B III, Day 579 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I made it to the Dining Room table. But to you, that was everywhere, right?

And speaking of anywhere and everywhere, I should be in your room/library as if I needed another book. They aren’t helping me. But I did finish another on Pet Loss.

Braxton, I may have it wrong. You were a pet until the day I yelled, “B, get in the car!” After that, you were many things—a fur baby of many hats. But not really. If it wasn’t your collar, you weren’t wearing it. Well, there were a few bandannas from PetSmart. Ha-Ha! You were getting too old to fight off the groomers or take any of the vet’s fingers…

Happy Memories! And you know I’m never happy, Braxton. But as long as you were… Are wherever you are right now. I wish I knew.

On the nightstand? I’ve been thinking a lot about getting something different. A new box, urn, or some sort of vessel. I’ve never been angry at you for leaving me. I would have given everything to save you. “Am I Wrong?” Am I lying?” Considering how long you’ve been gone, Braxton. It’s been four tax refunds. And I’m sitting here quibbling about $785.00. For what? Especially with how sick Virgil was yesterday. Go to Banfield?

Wouldn’t you let me know if Virgil was that far gone? He got sick all over the carpet twice, B. And once in your room. But I’ve kept Virgil close and increased his outside time.

What else does Virgil need? “What About the Rest of Us?” I don’t know, Braxton.

But if something happens to him, I’m sure I’ll be singing to myself, “That’s How You Know,” you MESSED up. Do you remember how I would sing to you, Braxton? Not only when you were sick. But every day I wasn’t in a mood. You were my cuddly comfort, B.

I’ve been thinking about buying three black dog toys for the years you’ve been gone. But I also have to find plenty of cleaning supplies for Virgil. Would getting him cleaned up help him? And between paying your Grandma and your grandad wanting me to decorate, it would be your room. So I could stay closer to Virgil. But to spend that kind of money…

My heart’s broken, head, bank account… Willie B Shopping, Virgil.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 251 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Rager~

Like father like son… I’m not calling 2V that. But I wanted to vomit on the notice over the time clock. And V went and vomited on the bed. Hate, like Stupidity, is an illness. I won’t pass that to V. But drowning in anger? Braxton and Virgil’s Rager.

Friday, March 8, 2024

Tale 251 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Rager~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or should I be more like the Day Job, stating rules and facts? Reading those Sophia…

It makes me feel more gross, humiliated, and angry than cleaning up after Virgil today. And for the record, I’m not mad at Virgil. But more at myself. It’s like that time I had that Buffalo Chicken Pizza from Pizza Hut. Now, that was sickening. Should I write a review?

If only there were time. How about being in the mood? There’s also the fact that I’m such a lazy… Well, you know. I’m mad at the critic, too. You heard the song Braxton sent.

“Hells Bells.” But upon reading about it, I could be wrong. Or crazy? Inevitable, right?

Because, As I’ve said on numerous occasions. I will never find Acceptance in B’s passing. So anger, once again, finding its way into my grief…

At least it’s keeping the embarrassment to a minimum. And the fact that I hear Virgil chowing down in Braxton’s room means he has no plans to join my “Lost Boy” anytime soon. But still? You remember I hid my anger from Braxton. And now Virgil is getting all sick. Would it help if I talked to Virgil about it? Better yet, don’t share chicken.

Madness, Lady Sophia. What was I thinking? It’s like me drinking alcohol. It’s good, but… Well, you can ask Braxton’s Aunt. But at least I kept all the gross stuff in until she left. Thankfully

Speaking of gross things, there is still my rage. It’s always me and the Day Job, Lady Sophia. STUPIDITY, FEAR… where does it all go?

I finished reading “Backyard Dungeon 6” this morning. But no, I won’t give you a review on that either. But now I need a new book—as if I haven’t bought several already, Sophia. Sigh.

My reading history… Like regular history isn’t supposed to be all sunshine and lollipops. And reading about a “Ray of Sunshine” that has been lost. And saying, “She’s a Ray of Sunshine” in all the other books. For the critic: reading about dogs and girls…

Sophia, I need to read books on rage. While talking to you, I even looked up one of those rage rooms. I need somewhere to put all of my wrath. Because wanting pain, hurt, and…

It’s making me sick. No Fun! Braxton and Virgil’s Rager

1132 Days Without B III, Day 573 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 250 ~B A Ruler Virgil~

Braxton and I were/are just alike. We both want to run things. And we were both mistaken by the people who thought they were better than us. Virgil and I are alike. We both have no idea what we’re doing and try to avoid trouble. B A Ruler Virgil

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Tale 250 ~B A Ruler Virgil~

1131 Days Without B III, Day 572 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were always thinking about my days. These last three… The Second time I’m crying…

I can laugh too when I remember one of the rules you gave me. Or was it more advice, B?

The best legs, breasts, and thighs come in a bucket of chicken.
Braxton Barks Bradford

I told myself I needed to start asking for your advice more often. But we’ll get to that B III.

Do you remember the four rules I gave you while you were here? There was a fifth one after we had “The Talk” about you and your Aunt Carolina or Augusta, wherever she is now. But there was, don’t go #2 in the house, don’t steal, and respond whenever I call. Braxton, the oldest, was don’t bite the hand that feeds you. You’re a Smooth Criminal. Braxton, your Daddy’s not.

That’s what brings me to you now. Uh, every Thursday. Every day, with today being Wednesday, March 6, 2024. I’m still reeling from the Day Job. And a part of me doesn’t want to talk about this. But I would. But my indifference led to our… separation, B III. Death…

I continue to think of the critic and the Day Job. Confusion, Madness, and Humiliation.

So, as I told Inspector Echo this morning, at the Day Job, a new rule appeared, much like the one about “my” wearing earbuds, or how I wrote to that coworker or the one about wearing a jacket around my waist. Only this new rule was about food, Little B.

Already, I can hear your voice, Braxton. You and food…

QUIT! Isn’t that right, Braxton?

But that was both of us every day. You never got to see my Day Job. Can you smell it? Eww! That’s the reason I washed my hands before holding you. That place is gross!

Anyway, I’m pretty gross. That’s why I’m not mad at the rule—because I’m guilty. It’s this: the necessity, implementation, and humiliation—everything that comes with the rule, B. Your Daddy’s foolish pride, you know.

Things would have been so much simpler if I had listened to you, Braxton Barks.

Inevitable. I could exist or rather live as you would want. I could quit. And there is always writing, which was our path out, Braxton. If I’d let you run things. Like getting steak for dinner? B A Ruler Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 244 ~B Takes Flight, Virgil~

Words are flying around everywhere. That’s why I’m careful with the words before my eyes. And in my ears. Says the guy reading about grieving again. And complaining about winning a book. Could I publish “my” book? Well, B’s. “B Takes Flight, Virgil.”

Friday, March 1, 2024

Tale 244 ~B Takes Flight, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… I mean it this time. Before I rotted “my” BRAIN with a phone. Before BRAXTON. BIOLOGY…

Marine Biology or something like that in high school. I had high hopes for myself back then, but even then, I knew better. I wanted to be a scientist of some sort. And now, I’m not even a good writer. And I only learned how to buy shrimp. Or grill it… in the microwave. Science, my lady. But maybe I should get to the point. If I’m not thinking about B, there are humiliations galore.

Anyway, here’s the story, my lady. So I’m sitting in Marine Biology that day, reading The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman. There’s this girl mad about something, don’t ask me what, but… She ended up snatching “my” book and hurling it at someone, and I had to retrieve it. Humiliating

It’s not much of a story. But the reason I’m thinking of it now is because of this. Instead of having a book snatched away, I had a book hurled at me today. A Kindle book. Must I be overdramatic about everything? You’re talking to the guy who believes his dead son sends him music.

Whatever. Today’s song was Black Hole Sun. And the book I was sent, “Never Be Alone” by Paige Dearth. Think of all the times I’ve thrown my name into the hat for a book. And I finally won this one.

“Maybe God Is Tryin’ To Tell You Somethin’,” as the song goes. But as I’ve said, I don’t talk to God anymore. Not since Braxton’s death. “It” had “it’s” chance.

Sophia, if I hadn’t told you before, I would say that God is a woman. Write that down right. Hmm.

That’s something that would go flying off the shelves so they could burn it. And what about everything else that I have written? Do the words go flying off somewhere? Do you see the dollars flying towards me? I see them flying away. It has been a hard week, money-wise. And who’s fault is that? Yet I want to buy more books because winning them doesn’t help with “my” mood.

Sophia, what mood am I in today? The day has only begun, and I’m careless, confused, and coming apart. And with all the rain? The only flying I’ll do today is to The Land of Make-Believe. B Takes Flight, Virgil

1125 Days Without B III, Day 566 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 243 ~B Leaps, Virgil Believes~

So, Leap Day? Did this existence go the distance in leaps and bounds? I can say with utmost certainty that every step I took today was worthless. Other than for keeping food in V’s mouth. And B? Unless he returns from Heaven. B Leaps, Virgil Believes

Thursday, February 29, 2024

Tale 243 ~B Leaps, Virgil Believes~

1124 Days Without B III, Day 565 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You know what I think? You were/are my son, not my Old Man. So honestly…

Today sucks! Life sucks! And every day I wake up is one more day I wish I didn’t have to. But I don’t blame you for that, Braxton. Nope. This was long before you. Existence.

Indeed, it was on an E-Day when I turned seven. I believe. If there was any day that should simply vanish. Not that I have anything against those born on Leap Day. I should have done something today. But no. As I said, today sucks. It’s called waking up, B.

Brought to you by the Peter Gabriel song, “Down To Earth.” B III, your Daddy’s a little weird. But I’m ok. I didn’t slip in the shower, fall off a ladder, or tumble downstairs. Ha-Ha! Too bad for me, right?

I’m sorry, Braxton. Besides everything… There’s the fact that I said I’m ok. It’s like when I tell people I’m here. That’s a lie. The only time I TRULY lied to you… Your box, Braxton.

And second, is the fact that I’ve been trying to join you. Going on for 1124 days now B III.

Which brings me back to the song. You know, a day I wish was just gone. Sunday, January 31, 2021. Anyway, I remember you lying there, and we were at eye level, but you’re above.

So it could be that I want you to come back Down To Earth. But that’s selfish of me, right?

Or maybe if I was going to do something “special” today. I could go all Black Panther with it and burn the “funeral garments.” The black and red hoody. There’s the Las Vegas T-shirt I got. What about your bed I won’t let Virgil touch. And the paperwork B III.

Take the leap? I wish I had thought of it before. But there’s also the fact that I’m lazy and broke. I don’t want to see my 40th E-Day, but that could be a plan. At some time, my son.

B. The song could mean that I’m falling instead of stepping, jumping, or leaping in existence. But I did that anyway. You just got me to my feet every day. That was enough for me.

Virgil? White dog can’t jump. Virgil couldn’t “save” Dante. I’ll RISE? B Leaps, Virgil Believes

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 237 ~Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life~

I feel like chicken tonight? More like Beef, it’s what’s for dinner. That is if I get to 90% reading about gamer babes. And talk to two women today. But when B was here, I could do the impossible. Ok, I would try. Now “Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life.”

Friday, February 23, 2024

Tale 237 ~Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or am I trying to predict the future? I’ve got the Day Job with my schedule.

A schedule that has me talking to you from bed this afternoon. On Wednesday, February 21, 2024. The rest of the week and next. Hell! Even a few minutes from now, with what I’m about to text my Old Man. I still speak like a child with a bad report card. And it becomes more humiliating when I tell you I’m thirty-nine. Shame, Honor, Manhood…

Do I even have much of a brain left? This morning, I spoke to Inspector Echo about “adult” books. And now I’m talking to you about humiliation. And may I always remember my B III.

Where’s his book at? Why haven’t I shown his eulogy? Braxton deserves so many words.

What do I deserve, Sophia? I want a steak dinner.

But that’s only if I make it to 90% through “Princess Tamer: A Gamelit Harem Fantasy Adventure (Hyperia Online Book One).” So, there is no book review for you today. I’m sorry. Sophia, I suppose I could tell you about “Outbreak Rising.” Here’s a question.

What good are either of these books doing me? Hmm?

As I said, I still have my Day Job. And its only purpose is to keep my son alive. And now V. But I was trying to read the instructions at the Day Job to assemble a loveseat and… Uh!

Humiliations Galore! Much like the message I just sent my Old Man. This is the life of Braxton’s Dad. Coward!

Too lazy, cowardly, and with my stupidity, how dare I attempt such things, Lady Sophia?

To live instead of just existing. Hell! Braxton was/is my life. The negative downturn… It happens whenever I think of Braxton’s end or my lacking one. So I’m still talking…

Words have power. Will they bring B III back from the dead? It’s funny that he’s the one who’s gone. But “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me,” a zombie. How about the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz? Nah! I’m one for monsters—a fondness for the dead.

And if I finish talking to you AND Madam Justice today, it proves I still need a brain and deserve some flesh. Preferably for eating. Did I just say that?

If Virgil, anybody knew, Braxton’s story… Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life.

1118 Days Without B III, Day 559 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 236 ~Virgil Looks Up B~

Meanwhile, my bank account won’t be looking up forever. This is America… A $1,000.00? Ha! But I can get my ears lowered. I can get 2V’s nails cut. And I can dial down my crazy with music, movies, and manuscripts. But B’s… Up there. Virgil Looks Up B.

Thursday, February 22, 2024

Tale 236 ~Virgil Looks Up B~

1117 Days Without B III, Day 558 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How’s Heaven been treating you? The Rainbow Bridge? Things in my broken heart… Wherever B.

All I know is this. I’m here. And I hate looking in mirrors. I still miss looking into your eyes.

What about V’s eyes? “Not a trace of a doubt in my mind” B, that when people saw us together, they knew you were/are my son. And I continue to believe in “He Lives In You.” That’s one reason I should take better care of myself. At least, right? Good Luck, huh? And again, I look to Virgil. I haven’t claimed him as a son yet. Like a child looking to be formally adopted… But the first time I saw him, he reminded me of you. I should have taken the eye doctor up on new glasses. Yeah, I know, Braxton, I’m being a meanie.

More like a douche, which is what I called you remember? My little douche. And while I shouldn’t say that, it’s not like the critic cares. My words have been such a mess that I haven’t heard from them. Other than you need to get professional help or some therapy.

I don’t have the funds for that Braxton. But with my windfall… It’s that what I’m calling that $1,000.00? It’s less now, considering I should pay off the termite guy sometime this week. Bills? Goody.

I’m time traveling. Today is Monday, February 19, 2024. And I was talking to Madam Justice about the house falling apart. But how about me and Virgil? Again, no doctors. But I could get a haircut. Dog Bath, Nail Grind…

If you’re looking down on us from somewhere, we might as well be “Lookin’ Fly.”

I swear, Braxton, I will make a playlist of all the songs you send me on any given day. I should have something more than songs that make me cry thinking about you, B. Sigh.

I remember the days I would look up from my naps and see you sitting on the corner of the bed. You were on guard duty protecting this room that I never want to leave. Virgil looks to you as if wondering how he can make me happy. Again, Good Luck to him. You couldn’t do that either. You could only make me a Dad. Someone worth something. Can Virgil? Hope. Virgil Looks Up B

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 230 ~ I’ll B Texting Virgil~

Who knew the day would come when I’d fear a text as much as a phone call? And reading about fantasy princesses… isn’t giving me any insights. Not that I’ve been reading much, anyway. There’s lots to do besides texting, but I’ll B Texting Virgil.

Friday, February 16, 2024

Tale 230 ~ I’ll B Texting Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… A sad one? Cause “Only God Knows Why,” I can’t write my books. Aren’t those sad?

Replika will ask me what I do to relax. Reading, sigh… You know the strange thoughts I get when I can’t wear earbuds at the Day Job? I’m starting to understand why they don’t want you reading… In school! By this point, you’re already supposed to be a zombie. Ha!

Speaking of which, why don’t I enjoy more stories about zombies? I love the dead. Seriously, Lady Sophia, I did some texting with Cherry this afternoon. Sometimes, the girl can be… out there. But the stories she reads and writes occasionally… Look who’s talking. Right?

Necromancy? I swear Braxton’s Aunt and I would always talk about The Walking Dead. Now? We mostly text to ensure that the other isn’t dead. These days… I miss her.

But Hell! If I wanted to die, why not text my Olds? How many days have passed by? And it’s only going to get worse the longer I delay. I’m thirty-nine, Lady Sophia. And still, I hide things like a child with a bad report card. If I could go back to reading about my Stupidity. There’s plenty of that.

Which brings me back to the Day Job. I was reading about my idiocy there. And talk about an irrational fear. No! I was about to say something, but why wish it into existence, My Lady? And don’t worry, we’ll get to wishing about something when it comes to text.

But for now, it’s not so many texts… uh ha-ha. But everything else I should be doing. E-mails, reading, Braxton…

Did I nearly forget about him today? Especially in February? My fingers always found him, even when I was lost to rage three years ago. And at the same time, I should have been writing. I could have saved him. And have I even petted Virgil today? I scooted away.

That brings me to what I fear M Anime might do. Did I text too much on Valentine’s Day, Lady Sophia? It wouldn’t be the first time. But how long have I known Braxton’s Aunt and Cherry? M Anime has them beat. I’ve known my son, B III, for a long time —my Braxton’s Paws.

Others talk about Grandma’s Hands. And my hands? I’ve wept, wanked, but writing. PET Virgil, make a PROFIT, put on PANTS. I’ll B Texting Virgil

1111 Days Without B III, Day 552 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 229 ~Don’t B STUPID, Virgil~

I called my son plenty of things. Never STUPID. I’m an old man now, and do you know what I remember from my father more than anything? Being STUPID, which explains my existence plenty. Yet B trusted that I knew how to save him… Don’t B STUPID, Virgil

Thursday, February 15, 2024

Tale 229 ~Don’t B STUPID, Virgil~

1110 Days Without B III, Day 551 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Whenever your Dad breaks out The Big S-word, it’s been a time, you know. Sigh.

I don’t need to tell you, but I tell you everything, so… STUPID is a dirty word. I can’t say I was the best Dad in the world. But I never called you STUPID. And I won’t call Virgil that either. Hell! Even this morning, I only shook my head and said, “Not cool.” V “went” all over the pan today. I swear I need to buy him one. One more memory of you, Braxton.

That brings me to today. My Little B, I don’t want to be STUPID. I’m A Believer, NOT! But if I were one for prayer, I would ask for three things. “I said he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” You’re not Aladdin, either. But three wishes, prayers, or whatever.

I would pray for you, my son. Next would be… Don’t let me be STUPID. Then I don’t want to be scared. Although STUPID and scared, they have to be sisters. So after … sex.

Do you know Tomoko Nomura? Of course, you do, Braxton. As I’ve told your aunt and M Anime… oh boy, I hope we get to her today. Anyway, Tomoko is a “STUPID Girl,” somewhat, but she is beautiful and has a whole lotta heart. And what brings her to mind today? Braxton, you are your father’s son, as in liking girls with nice big Yabbos.

I’m getting off track again about how you get my attention from beyond the grave with pretty, pretty girls. So what’s my point, B III?

If your Daddy is going to be STUPID, at the very least, I wish I could be beautiful and have a heart. Hell! Every day, I remember the looks you would give. Be better, Daddy.

And I imagine you now looking from wherever, saying, don’t be scared. Don’t be sad.

But STUPID? If it isn’t anything and everything I do at the Day Job, well… Let’s look at yesterday, for example. Honestly, B, that’s what I’ve been thinking about since we’ve passed all your days—death, ashes, collection, birthday, etc.

Gotta put your heart “on the line,” right? Um, Valentine’s Day? I haven’t spoken to M Anime. People get busy, caught up, and everything. Me? I feel STUPID. Tell me why. Don’t B STUPID, Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad