Tag: Depression

Saga 285 ~Braxton Counts Virgil’s Colors~

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Are dogs colorblind? One of my last memories of Braxton, when he was nearly blind, was his running from his granddad into my arms. Hell! Green to live. Make his stepmom turn red. Black to join him. And V’s white. “Braxton Counts Virgil’s Colors”

Wednesday, April 13, 2023

Saga 285 ~Braxton Counts Virgil’s Colors~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m not in the lot that can paint with all the colors of the wind.

Hell! I’m having trouble seeing black and white. So that’s today’s first humiliation, sin. I’m time traveling, so today is Monday, April 10, 2023. Meaning this week’s gonna suck. Anyway, today I was supposed to write about Rule 287, “Some Are Born Many Times.” (Sigh) I’m still always thinking about my son. And his lack of reincarnation. V’s colors. Let me get this out. So I couldn’t read what I’d typed prior. And by accident, I repeated Rule 284. “Your Punchline Means My Punches.” Seriously, everything was sharper Sunday. Speaking of which, again, there’s Braxton and his brown, beige, or bronze coloring. My boy is/was the most beautiful thing ever. Then I remember seeing Virgil… Like Braxton spoke, “Can’t get more black and white, Dad.”

That was a mistake. Or maybe I’m crazy. I adored the brown around Virgil’s eyes. Inspector, you know I have an eye for the most beautiful things. Despite their expense. Shouldn’t I be eyeing green as in dollars? Again my focus has been shot to Hell. Well, since Sunday night. That was my loneliest time. Remember? The longest night without B. That was by the time you read this 801 days ago. Inspector, yesterday… I humiliated myself. Begging a girl I found on OnlyFans. Oops! Where’s all my money gone? As always, I would have spent way more than that for the “Lady In Red.” And no, I’m not talking about Ariela in Dirty Latina Maids. Though remembering her Inspector… Opening my eyes now. Woke!

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention today’s shooting. Well, Monday. How does anybody open their eyes anymore? Hell! How does the GOP even sleep, hmm? Money, Inspector? Again something else we have in common because I would rather be lost to the blackness. Inspector, what I mean is, if I had my way. I’d be with my B III… Know what that means? I would lose myself to the darkness I have inside me. Always and forever, Inspector. Braxton’s little brown hairs on my clothes. His love and protection. My pendant of us. And Virgil is as white as a ghost, ha-ha. But three black spots and brown around his eyes that wait. Everyone’s waiting for the black man. Braxton Counts Virgil’s Colors.

801 Days Without B III, Day 242 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 278 ~Placed For B, Virgil~

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What do you want to be when you grow up? Or who? I wanted to be Dennis Hof, and Braxton would be my Domino. I wouldn’t mind switching places with Johnny Sins. I want to write. Hell! To have a family. But where in this existence… Placed For B, Virgil.

Wednesday, March 29, 2023

Saga 278 ~Placed For B, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Because I want to build myself a world; belong to one. Or bring my Braxton back.

But there is no place for either one of us here. I found that out yet again yesterday. And all day today, I’ve been losing my effing mind thinking… What happens to Virgil if I leave in one way or another? Speaking of which, I need to set up his vet appointment after counting so much cash. I would have more if my place weren’t in this bedroom. Hell! I should appreciate it, right, Inspector? Again I was terrified today. Effing Day Job. Then again, don’t I belong in Hell? I murdered my son, for starters. (Sigh) Inspector. There’s a word for what I’ve done… euthanasia. A place for my GRIEF, Inspector. Books. And then there’s my FEAR, DEPRESSION, and my endless RAGE. Going nowhere

Monsters live in nightmares, which is why I’m always dreaming. I am an effing monster. But at least that means there’s somewhere to go. There’s nowhere to be, Inspector, as I lied here last night with another foot in my ass again. And yes, Inspector, it was a well-deserved kick, even if I don’t know the circumstances. So, when have I ever been told such? Anyway, I was reading. And the book, like many others, talked about Braxton living within. Fair enough. But I see where his bed has moved. Inspector, his pillow was destroyed. Who’s eating out of his bowls now? And sleeping by my side as he has nowhere to be now? And like Virgil, I find myself placed and displaced. Always, forever

Ask me where I want to be, and the answer is simple. I want to be with Braxton. One more reason I’m mad at Virgil. Not abusive, only angry. And that’s not his fault. More mine for my cowardice that I didn’t join B III when I had the chance. I’m not learning from history. Republican 101. Except I don’t have a chance in Hell. Of sleeping with Stormy Daniels. With the lack of funds, between ensuring Virgil doesn’t suffer, Braxton’s Barks final fate ha. There’s always Akane wa Tsumare Somerareru and Saimin Seishidou, Inspector. Inspector, I could be creating the world of my dreams. Being a family man, an effing pervert, an effing man. Braxton’s Father. Monster, Savage, Human, gone. Placed For B, Virgil

794 Days Without B III, Day 235 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 339 ~It’s Not B Con~

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Convict, Con Man, “Comic-Con,” okay, I’ve only been a bit of a cheat. I went to Juvenile hall once, and why I’ve wanted to go to Comic-Con. There’s plenty I want to see. My son, alive again. I can never forget him. Only, “It’s Not B Con” lately.

Saturday, June 5, 2021

Gospel 339 ~It’s Not B Con~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I ask myself, what am I doing wrong? I’m not jailed, cheating, hosting a panel.

No, my Lazy Ass, Lady Lu. Like today I said I was going to write out my dreams. There was the one where I was playing hockey, all D2: The Mighty Ducks. I’m pretty offended. In one more vision, I had a stalker and not the pretty Autumn Reeser as Taylor Townsend. He was a white man, and nobody heard me until I found his shoes in a plastic case. Last night I dreamed I was at work, and I got into trouble for “Stuff And Thangs.” I saw this sheet with marks by shoes, and the girl said I’d done well but with what I saw on the clock. It took me a minute, but feet were the overlying factor. I’m not that freaky.

If I had to guess, I would say first my feet are cold. Everything comes back to Braxton, and he would lie on my feet. His pillow was always below them, and without Braxton, Luna. The second I think, has to do with what I’m doing now. It’s like I want to be seen, but at the same time, I ain’t going nowhere like a display. Without Braxton, who’s watching? Lastly, the Day Job dream. I should have known better since the girl ragging me hasn’t worked there in years. Hell Lady Lu, I want to leave; B wanted that too. So I stay okay? Again I’m not explaining this to some Federal prosecutor, disappointed Friends. Or adoring Fan base. Even B III left me.

I mean, didn’t I ask him to? Only I remain stuck right here, Lady Lu. One more reason for the ice. When I went to honor B today, I didn’t even put on socks. I think of the 9th Circle. For some reason, I was scared to escape the stalker. As I said, I found shoes, but I needed to get dressed, and I wouldn’t look in the closet. Escape naked… the shoes wouldn’t move. If I did get away from the Day Job, I wouldn’t have anything. The shoes were right or wrong, but not one pair fit me, and so this week I’ve been busy. Prose, Posing, Prayer. Leaving my lips, “Oh God!” Because I’m staying here. The world It’s Not B Con.

125 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 332 ~When B Moved On~

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B III was on the eternal quest of comfy spots. I know mine; I was comforted Braxton around. He could be waiting for me, not that he was one to rush me. I’m sure he’s getting his morning or after-work walks. What am I working on because When B Move On

Saturday, May 29, 2021

Gospel 332 ~When B Moved On~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but with all the dollars and the maid, I hope she misses Braxton’s last few hairs.

That’s why I haven’t hired a new maid yet, and I stick to cleaning the bathroom. Sure Braxton’s dog gate still sits at the door. Well, nine out of ten, he hated going in there. I mean, baths, my bellowing “stuff and thangs,” and fewer soft places for Braxton’s behind. When that behind stayed still in bed for a day or so, I knew something was wrong with him. Here we are 118 Days past, and I still can’t believe it. I also didn’t mean to sound so Depressed (oh no) today. Like my Anger, this has nothing to do with Braxton. Just a sec… Braxton isn’t haunting me like the dude was his wife in “What Dreams May Come.” I wouldn’t mind if B did that, my ghost dog.

Hell, part of the reason I became a “monk” is this. Wherever B III is, he can see everything. He loves me regardless of what I do, but still, I kept things from him sometimes. Which brings in my… depression, rejection, no not really. If I’m being honest, like my writing, I’m having a good time with my “Stuff And Thangs,” better known as OnlyFans. I’ve said before I have no qualms about my body… okay, my teeth; how I love masks. I like how I move and how I feel. Only at the moment, I haven’t… crossed the finish line. It’s like I’m Rhett from Lust by Ker Dukey. He lost his brother, and I failed my son Braxton. To show my face ever.

People want me to move on, move over, move a smidge so they can have what they want. I’ve spent my life being in the way, and that’s why I’m always trying to move. Yeah, like moving books off shelves, my body in this way or that to look right, my brain, I have one?
I say my heart is broken, but it continues to beat, doesn’t it, so it’s moving. My ears don’t move, but when I hear myself moaning, my hands do. It’s been a mighty long time. Braxton’s things, though? I did pick up his toys for a picture, and as always, I fill his water, move his gates, his bed, everything. I’m stuck; I want to be. When B Moved On.

118 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 325 ~Must B Freeing Sometimes~

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I expected some woman would tie me down. Some Nights I dreamed of B III being an old man (older) who would be running from his siblings saying, “I didn’t sign up for this.” He’s free of the mortal coil; I’m not free of love. Must B Freeing Sometimes.

Saturday, May 22, 2021

Gospel 325 ~Must B Freeing Sometimes~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s almost like being in love. Hell, neither one of those match B being alive.

He’s not, but I am, and I intend to stay that way? What, I still haven’t taken the Vaccine? I thought to yesterday Lady Lu, yep. I got a haircut, and Supercuts girl got pissed at me. I went to Walmart and got mad at them for cheating me. Did I say having money, hmm? Hakuna Matata for the rest of these days, and if I had only been working this week, who knows. Another part of my Denial is acknowledging that “Every Day Is Exactly The Same.” Again that attitude got B killed, and how can I not want to keep him company Lu. It is not suicidal to acknowledge the truth. Death is the ultimate freedom, and next to that sleep, I’m tired.

I’m so “Tired Of Being Alone.” There’s a difference between being alone and my loneliness, THEY say. I was never alone with B III here, but now I’m lonely. But every day, I lock Braxton’s gates, I like having money in my pocket, and I love my mask. Freeing hiding. Only without Cerberus, without my Dæmon… when’s the last time I call Braxton that? THEY talk about our better angels, but I have let my demons come out to play. My heart cannot hold back the darkness. Lust, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, Hell not Depression. So what about Gluttony? THEY say that we project our sins onto others, and I told M Anime that she’s just a “Sucker For Pain.” Of course, that’s more me.

I haven’t been starving myself as I did once before. Yet the people I have talked to lately don’t want my skin and bones, my warped mind, and my broken heart. I go back and forth between my soul and seeing as how I continually serve in the Church of Braxton. Lady Lu, I am free of love but not hate, considering the Day Job this week. What the Fuck! Were you expecting me to say, “Oh God?” Pride thinking anyone gives a damn right? That’s all the sins, but I am free, so is there a chance that somehow I’ll reach B, you think? It depends on who you question, but everyone wants to be free of me… I agree. Must B Freeing Sometimes

111 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 171 ~High Noon, Hi Will~

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Talk about living on a mattress, or maybe I’m Linus with his blue blanket or more like my hoodies. Trevor Noah stole my style. Anyway, I better be up before January 6, and if that goes well, the 20th. “High Noon, Hi Will” who wakes up to fight?

Saturday, December 19, 2020

Gospel 171 ~High Noon, Hi Will~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would still spend every afternoon in bed. I’ve spoken about what gets me up and going. On my Christmas list, I said I wanted an island. Only by all accounts that might mean a gigantic bed. Hell, why did I get up now? My Dæmon’s demands, such as “I’m Hungry, Thirsty, need to go Potty.” I can at least say that makes me better than the Trump Administration. Let’s not get into January 6 or the 20th. I’ve still got my gun, but again I’m not some Trumptard gun nut, well, not yet.

Nobody gets up to die, right? Well, okay, I don’t get how cowboys did it back in the wild west. I mean, yeah, so we have soldiers, police officers, frontline personnel. You’re asking, why am I so political? As I said, lying in bed, watching YouTube and killing the Dead. What about cultists, hmm? I’m on the final mission of Far Cry 5, “Where It All Began.” Since I’ve been delving back into my gamer roots, I’ve only beaten one game on the PS4, Detroit: Become Human. So what did I do Friday night instead of fighting Joseph Seed? Hmm? I’m starting to think I’m incapable of finishing anything. The past few mornings, not counting today, I’ve woken up early to read before falling back asleep after my 15% quota. Not that it’s anything to brag about considering the length of the books I’ve read.

I keep telling myself, I’m trying to learn but are any of these “Christmas” novellas going to help me? The last book I read with any “educational” value was Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. I meant to tell Lady Sophia before I should go back to writing reviews. Only all the books I read are considered “inappropriate.” So that would explain the books I’m writing, and I can’t finish those. If I can survive today, I’ll actually score one more win on Six Impossible Things. Yet again, I was on my belly in bed crawling like some slug. As my motivations say, you did not wake up to be mediocre. I was supposed to have so much more accomplished by now. It’s like NaNoWriMo but with my whole life. I finish 50’000 words, and then what. Uh, nothing.

Dumb Ways To Die… waking up. High Noon, Hi Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 164 ~The Will Of Steel~

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Steal, Still, Steel, language can be a miraculous thing though most days I spend talking to myself or my Dæmon and usually we’re both out cold like today. I wore out the snooze button with my clumsiness. “The Will Of Steel.”

Saturday, December 12, 2020

Gospel 164 ~The Will Of Steel~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you have got to remind me of this title after Christmas. You don’t know how I really want to turn this into, you know. Hell, even when I’m not in the mood, it’s like being the HULK. That’s the thing, Lady Lu, I’m always, sigh. Anyway, today I feel heavy, heavy-handed, ham-fisted, and being handled by life. Yet with these hands, I still find a way to push the buttons on alarm clocks. I might as well pin my legs to the bed. Um, there’s the six impossible things I keep going at or not.

Stealing more hours from my future self than I care to admit Lady Lu. You can see what time it is now. Even with everything that happened yesterday, I was still earlier than now. Of course, you can ask Lady Sophia about that because I rather forget. Well, until Friday. Stealing another moment that could bring about happiness. Only again, I instead wallow in self-pity. If anything, it beats what else I would be doing. Indiana Gone asked me what I wanted for Christmas. One of those phone cleaners? The real dirt, I added myself.

Still, every day, I go out and fight the fight. Now when I say go out, that could mean on most days only crawling out of my bed. Ask me where I am now, and that would be the loveseat in my den/game room, my Dæmon by my side. And my hands to the keyboard. Still, trying to make something of my life at least until 5:30 PM, and then what? Phone games until 6:00 PM, and then I’m killing cultists… in another game. Why am I still surprised that saying such a thing is acceptable but not some others?

Steel for real as the world falls apart and people are getting crazier by the day. I’m not ready to spend $500 to save the car I have because I need to save my black ass. Oh, I said that the gun I have scares me? I’m like Kevin Bacon/Nick Hume in Death Sentence 2007. Steel, like gold, is in short supply these days. Or is it the fact that I’m lazy as all Hell again like today? And with these hands, why be distracted, dirty, or even somewhat dangerous.

The real me sacrificed for this, The Will Of Steel.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 157 ~Pushing My Buttons Willie~

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I’ve been listening less to the Pussycat Dolls and more to daily motivations. Spotify told me that my most played song this year has been “Sucker For Pain.” Good thing I didn’t win the presidency. “Pushing My Buttons Willie,” none connected to bombs

Saturday, December 5, 2020

Gospel 157 ~Pushing My Buttons Willie~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and even with all this cash, I’ll still buy hoodies. In a way, I’m starting to feel like Linus; only my blue blanket is a black hoodie. Trevor Noah stole my look, right? I’m sure this isn’t the 1st time I’ve talked about such fashion choices. For now, I’m only trying to keep a pair of pants on for “obvious” reasons. I’ve already failed my Six Impossible Things for this week, but I can try. Lady Lu, I should go to the door and see if my newest NaNoWriMo shirt’s arrived.

That is what I call trying to cheer myself up because today has been one of those days. It’s only what now 10:05 AM. I was fighting with my alarm at around 5 AM. So yeah, I’ve been “diddling” around for about 5 hours. Well, until my Dæmon’s Medication Time. Didn’t I say something about him being all Nakey the other day (collarless)? Putting the collar back on and taking it off is getting easier. We also have him back on schedule, but he still wants hotdogs. I almost blew the microwave up in some way, I don’t know. $500.00 wouldn’t seem like much by comparison? Why yes, Lady Lu, I’m still “salty” at Serra Hyundai. Now I’m all sorts of worried about my car, and I haven’t left the house in how long? Every day I’m agreeing more with the Trumptards… Ignorance Is Bliss.

But I don’t want to be ignorant. As we have gone over again and again. STUPID is possibly the worse word in the English language. So I push buttons to read books every day. Am I learning from, um, Abby Knox, Eric Vall, or even my own work left unedited? I finally got back into Far Cry 5 the other day and, in less than a minute, blew something up? Yes, it was an accident. How about the times I died jumping off cliffs without my wingsuit deployed? I’ll try again tonight. Ok, try some hunting, ha. Speaking about guns… Yes, I’ll stick to video games or YouTube for now. All I’m doing is wasting time, even when I go to sleep on time. Ok, I’ll admit, an hour later, but I was talking to M. Anime. Please don’t let me screw this up seriously.

My mouth, my fingers, my pants. Pushing My Buttons Willie

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 147 ~Will Vs. St. Patrick~

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Last week didn’t I say something about MAGA Hats? Now I want to punch myself for wearing a green hoody. Money green as the Day Job puts it. More like sickly green I hate getting out of bed. How far is Ireland to start a new life. Will Vs. St. Patrick

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Gospel 147 ~Will Vs. St. Patrick~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I should be used to green. Do you remember when I said I’m done with McDonald’s after getting food poisoning… how many times? Anyway, I needed a snack after going out today, and no, it was not by any choice, ha-ha. Inspector, I believe it was Kermit who said it ain’t easy being green. Still, I would rather be rich than sick. I want to be wealthy than jealous of every little thing. Killmonger said it must feel good. Tonight as with most nights, I’m exhausted with minimal effort, yeah.

Pondering, what does any of this have to do with St. Patrick? From a quick read, he is the patron saint of Ireland, and he’s known to have banished snakes. Talk about not doing my research right. All I know is, I bought two green hoodies today, both for the Day Job, no fun ever. Of “Two Of The Lucky Ones,” no, I’m not one. Neither am I the Fortunate One. For damn sure, I wish I was dressed like “The One.” Yes, I know Grammarly is going to ding my ask for saying one so many times. If I were a good writer, I wouldn’t be suffering right now. Yes, I’m being a bit dramatic, but “Humiliations Galore” are becoming a way of life. Okay, I should stop talking about them, but I need something to sing about to get to bed sometime soon. Or I could and should stop lying to NaNoWriMo and having to make up counts.

Now I always do Inspector Echo. If you add in what I meant to do last night and tonight, well damn, we are looking at three-thousand, so I should be proud. Nope, because I still have to read; I only hope Goodreads counts the paltry amount I read only tonight. Nothing I have been doing has qualified me for sainthood. Spending everything on Eric Vall because I’m still scared of A.J. Markam and especially K Webster. You don’t know how hard I was fighting such terror at the Day Job. Okay, I failed plenty, Inspector. Nothing of this line of thinking holds any weight on St. Patrick. I only know Saint’s Row and St. Raphael as I put him in my novel. Please don’t ask me why ever Inspector Echo.

I’m just sorry and tired… sick? Will Vs. St. Patrick

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 140 ~Willing By The Days~

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What day is it again? Now those MAGA Hats can, in the words of DX, “Suck It.” At the moment, I’m all for MWGA… doesn’t have the same ring. Not to mention I can’t remember the last time I felt great. “Willing By The Days”

Wednesday, November 18, 2020

Gospel 140 ~Willing By The Days~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but that’s not why I forgot about you. If anything, I’m forgetting what it feels like to be okay. One of my motivations says, “You did not wake up today to be mediocre.” How I can say at this moment, why yes I did Inspector. Yesterday or today at four in the morning, I planned on doing a great many things. I need a haircut; I should go shopping as everyone is in an uproar. Now it ain’t all bad. I did do 1,900 words. I got my Imp to take his meds for once but will he again? No humiliations.

Now they will come, Inspector Echo. We’re heading into Thanksgiving next week. Can you believe that I actually remembered that? If I think I’m wiped out right about now, I’m in trouble, I’m in real big trouble, as the song goes. Endure and Survive, right? Inspector Echo, the thing is, I’m not sure I want to. No, as always, I’m not suicidal. Only I can’t name a whole lot of stuff that is bringing me joy right now. I have Eric Vall, but his books are saying, expect a twist. I fall asleep to Far Cry 5 stories, reviews, walkthroughs. Fighting my addictions are a bitch, pardon my French. I don’t have anything to be bragging about, and again I have my story to write. So here I am fighting for the days to fly-by, and I only have myself to blame for this mess.

Of course, I could stop, at this second, I want to lie in bed and do nothing. The good news is tonight I won’t be going to bed at 4:00 AM yet again. The bad news is, what will I be doing this weekend. I have a chance to catch up now. I could even do it tonight, but um? Yeah, that’s right. I’ll make promises, and then I’ll cut off my alarm and go right back to sleep. Oh, except for my occupation that’s going to treat me like garbage and make me despise myself. I keep going through Hell, and it’s much bigger than I could ever imagine. Strangely hate isn’t as strong as I hoped, and don’t talk to me about love right now, Inspector Echo. Sorry.

I get back to you only to be down on myself? Willing By The Days

I Will Have No Fear