Tag: E-Day

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

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To B III (be free) of pain; there was a lot less of it when I was sleeping. And Braxton would watch over me. He felt the same lying on my chest as I’d read a book. If only a book taught how to make the pain go. Like I’d read it. “Hurt? B III, Virgil”

Wednesday, November 22, 2023

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But Virgil is safe and sound. Braxton? Well, he’s better without me. That’s the only thing that matters.

At least I’m not indifferent. That’s what killed my son. Or angry? I hid my anger from my son… for the most part. No, Inspector, today I’m in pain, and that’s no secret, any day. Hell! I haven’t been without pain since I turned seven. If I ever talk to another psychiatrist… for real this time. If they ever ask me when did the pain start? It started on that seventh E-Day in 1991. Picture a younger me dancing like an idiot because of cussing.

“What the Hell is going on?” Doesn’t sound too bad, does it, Inspector? Being seven… Today, I’m about two months into being thirty-nine. And I woke up feeling my age. Braxton was so much older at fifteen. To join him…

One of the reasons I haven’t is because, like I was telling Dear Future Wife, Tuesday. With all the pain he felt, my son, firstborn, my B, fought with all he had, even against me. Braxton wanted to live. And he would endure the physical pain and ignore the mental. Like father, like son. I will take the pains in my body because whatever’s in my mind is worse. The truth, Inspector. But at least Braxton and I own it. Every freaking day I will. Do you remember how I said I like Bruce Banner, AKA the Hulk, for his truth? “That’s my secret Cap. I’m always angry.” Inspector, I’m always hurting, horny, and ready to raise Hell, which is usually why I choose horniness.

My pain and my perchance for violence are the worst. But being horny, My Dirty Little Secret is the lesser evil. And without that “release,” what’s left, Inspector? Hurting, Hell! Is that why I was out like a light yesterday? Sleep to me is like playing dead. You know I have a problem with laziness. However, I also have a big problem with not getting laid. Um, eww! Everything I do revolves around my bed as it was for my son, who only lay there —dying in his little bed, which I have now hidden in the second bathroom. Inevitable. What? That I would put B’s things away. Or that I’d complain about a lack of sleep, sex, stupid energy drinks. Hurt? B III, Virgil

1025 Days Without B III, Day 466 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 142 ~Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine~

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“If you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything,” that’s my only interest in Laughter. B made everyone laugh, including me. And I looked after him for fifteen years. What’s Laughter done for me lately? “Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine.”

Monday, November 20, 2023

Tale 142 ~Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine~

Three-Hundredth And Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice

Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Hell! Plain ole words, too. The comedian is dead. My son. And FTWD. We are the dead.

I’m not trying to be comedic, clever, or cool. That’s for damn sure. And you know what I’m not cool with? Laughter. “I smile… I laugh… I rejoice this day.” A lot of days, Madam. Back in the day, I wanted to be a comic. I wrote comics for… let’s say a few weeks, Madam. Not the funny kind. But I didn’t start hating Laughter until E-Day number seven. Hmm? I don’t remember, and I don’t want to. Every day we move past E-Day thirty-nine, I come to another truth. I wasted “my” life. Um, existence. And the comedian is still alive and well. Nothing will be bringing Braxton back. And “Fear The Walking Dead” isn’t officially dead and buried, as I missed one episode.

How embarrassing. Braxton would give me one of his patented looks. Every Sunday, I chose my love of the dead over him. And yet I decided to kill him on a Sunday. What! The Walking Dead was on hiatus. Oh! You mean the whole “I killed my best friend” thing. Braxton had a dark sense of humor like his Dad. Again, I remember him giving me those… AHEM “blah, is you crazy?” But he never laughed. He would smile, remain silent, and then sleep. And that was my solace. My cure to every day. Let the people laugh at me. Madam, what else is there for me if it isn’t my son sleeping or guarding me while I sleep? I really want to know. You?

While I’m busy singing one of Jodeci’s hits. “Come And Talk To Me,” for those unaware of the classics. How about “Let’s Talk About Sex?” If you’re wondering why I’m late talking to you, Madam. If it weren’t for the humiliations galore at the Day Job, I would say I hate the implication of “We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off” right now. So, without my Braxton, I’m left with sex and music. And both can be funny in their way, too. As a thirty-nine-year-old man, it’s hilarious that I have to tell succubus stories to sleep. Laughter is one of those medications where the side effects are worse than the disease. Won’t laugh, smile, make a funny face… Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine

1023 Days Without B III, Day 464 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 135 ~Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation~

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The opposite of war isn’t peace. It’s creation. How many tales did I write with B here? I ain’t much, but the two of us were a family. I am his Dad. And when he lay dying, I created beliefs, birthdays, and BS. Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation

Monday, November 13, 2023

Tale 135 ~Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation~

Three-Hundredth And Seventeenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… So, I bought a gun in 2020. It’s the End of the World As We Know It…

Or so THEY thought… And that was over STUPID things… I can’t get a haircut. Starbucks may have a bad year. Trump doesn’t get to brag about a booming economy. Hell! 2020 should have been our year, Braxton and me. Only, no wasteland or zombies. And if I couldn’t live it out, I should have been writing about it while I had the time. Hmm. The end was extremely effing nigh! What was I doing when “The Man Comes Around? That he did in 2021 for my son. Where were my big plans then? My promises. The graffiti with punctuation, which is us talking right now. What’s that? Destruction, Creation? Madam, in the end, I breed a million excuses because I’m not breeding anything else.

Gross! I know, Madam, sorry. But the truth is that everybody dies. “Daddy… everyone dies.” I can imagine Braxton telling me that. Or was it Katie in the movie “1408?” Sometime last night, Braxton sent me a song from the Foo Fighters, “DOA.” I’m crazy. That’s true enough. But the things that come up when I can’t listen to audiobooks or music at the Day Job. It was pain. The idea is that every hurt and pain is a step closer. Because what can I do as a person? Someone asked me at the Day Job how old I was. Ha! I’m ashamed to be thirty-nine. And over the past few days, I’ve been saying I must do better. I’m at the dining room table.

But the fact is that every day, I’m devolving, being destroyed, dying, my dear Madam. And with full knowledge of what’s happening, what am I doing? Can anything be done? That’s what this rule is all about. When Braxton was here… for his life… I would have found a way. Only that’s a lie, Madam. Because in fifteen years, I could have been doing something to save him. Let’s not count the first twenty years of existence. I would have never met him if I had been “Successful.” I had to be so wrecked for the Heavens to create a life like him. B waited as long as he could for me to bring new life for us, for me. Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation

1016 Days Without B III, Day 457 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 128 ~Harder To Breathe On Top~

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When I think of being on top, it’s having the women, the clothes, the rides. What about my son? I nearly forgot I sent him to Heaven. But now I can barely climb out of the covers, step forward, or hold my head high. Harder To Breathe On Top

Monday, November 6, 2023

Tale 128 ~Harder To Breathe On Top~

Three-Hundredth And Sixteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… And if I could make another one, it would be this. Never Get Up Unless Wanted, by…

Me, Myself, And I? As we move further away from E-Day. Thirty-Nine still sucks, okay. Hell! It’s even more than that. It frightens me. And yes, Halloween is over. Because I’m talking to you on Wednesday, November 1, 2023. All Saints’ Day. And faith, Madam? What was it a few years back, November 5th? “Remember, remember! The fifth of November!” I’m no scholar on Guy Fawkes. Didn’t I tell Inspector Echo if I’d gotten A’s? Anyway, I almost got fired way back then because of… I don’t even remember her name or what I called her. But I felt like I was drowning and yet got to keep working, Madam. Only every morning when I wake up for the Day Job… I wish I hadn’t.

And it’s with… I was going to say nearly everything. But when was the last time I took a breath in the morning and I wanted to? All I want is one time. Just one! But every little breath I take, it’s like I’m fighting for it. And in the end, I hate this biological imperative. So, I wrote this rule. It was meant for me to be winning now. To be living “Life On Top.” Why yes, Madam. I just referenced a softcore “drama” that aired on Cinemax. Ha-Ha. But again, being on top is as simple as one foot in front of the other, not dragging. Well, any way existing. Just my opinion. I want to raise my head with confidence, not courage.

I’m not dismissing courage, Madam, but it’s the difference between life and existence. Do you know how those on top say entitlement when they mean earned? So they can take life from others. And I still want to be one of those people, a billionaire, big-shot, a boss, huh? Only it feels like while I’m earning my way… Sort of. I’m fighting that much harder to take a breath. “Running Up That Hill,” making “The Climb,” and even going down “The Road.” Am I making another playlist, Madam? Should I add Rakuen from Trigun? Keeping these eyes on the work is a challenge. Yeah, when I want to be on top of some angel who’s hot as Hell. Geez Madam! I nearly forgot Braxton is up there, somewhere. Without me… Harder To Breathe On Top

1009 Days Without B III, Day 450 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 125 ~Read… Ready… B, V~

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Am I ready to live or exist? Am I ready to read about life? Last week, I read of a guy and a corpse. Now, there’s a guy, a corpse, and a witch coven. People celebrate Christmas… now. I celebrate Halloween? Effing dead. Never Ready. Read… Ready… B, V.

Friday, November 3, 2023

Tale 125 ~Read… Ready… B, V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But I would rather write you a few. Hell! I should have written several. Next Week?

It’s like listening to Succubus Lord for… I don’t know how many times by now. But according to Audible, it’s been a lot. And you know what I want to say about them. Only I go back and forth on this whole censorship thing. I wish I could say certain things and call it free speech. It’s why I keep my mouth shut, ears filled and lost fifteen bucks. Meh. Yet opening my eyes and reading. It didn’t occur to me to read all those pet loss books while Braxton was dying. He was going to live. Sophia, that’s where faith lays, with B III. But at the same time, I read as I didn’t want to worry about it with B crossing the bridge.

Now, why do I bring this up today? Well, besides the fact that I talk about B III every day. If I had to express all my fears, we would be here, My Lady. Uh, “EVERYTHING” isn’t that hard to say? Writing it? Anyway, I’m afraid I won’t write Braxton’s name one day. Hmm? Before I decide to start scanning years sniffle worth of blogs. Again, what’s with today? It’s how I stayed ahead to watch my boy cross over. And yet, I’m not ready to step out of this bed. One step towards life or even a better existence at this point. And as I say that, My Lady. There was a zombie package at the door. A package for my package. Uh gross.

I really didn’t make a joke about “my” new toys, did I? My Lady, that’s the only thing I’m ever ready for. I’m always ready to get some. So, when was the last time that happened? This is more of a confession for Inspector Echo, but I’m always ready to read the truth. The last time I ever “got some” would be around seven years ago. Never in this house!!! And I can’t even blame that on Braxton. When it came to Carolina Bound, the woman I would make his honorary aunt since she’s like a sister to me. My son did try to play wingman. Did I ever read to him about moms? Not even how girls became mothers. Nope. Read… Ready… B, V

1006 Days Without B III, Day 447 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

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So I finished a book about a guy and a corpse. Then, last night, I hoped I wouldn’t see one as Virgil breathed weirdly. Should have read up on how to help him. If I had time. 15 years with B, what do I know of dog first aid. “Just Breathe, B, Virgil”

Friday, October 27, 2023

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Better yet, I need to read how to perform basic first aid on dogs. Virgil Vivi?

Lady Sophia, if you’re asking why I’m so late this morning. Hell! I lounged around in bed for an hour. And then I can’t say I was reading anything. How do THEY say… A picture is worth a thousand words. So, how many pairs of Yabbos is that? The answer might surprise you. But we’re not here because of Math. Next to History, Reading rules. Inevitable. And according to Kindle, I’ve read for 562 days. And not one of those books would have saved V last night. Don’t worry. He’s very much alive. Breathing? Happy? He’s becoming more and more like me. Except I think he would prefer breathing, Sophia. But what do I know? Braxton wanted to make me happy. What makes me happy?

Didn’t The Beatles write a song about it? Only I’m not one for that kind of violence. Have you seen the news the past few days? Something else I want to avoid seeing, hearing about, or reading. Then again, I could tell you that Virgil Vivi was gone. After the trouble, he had last night. I petted him and begged him to take a breath. Again, looking up medical emergencies. Sophia, I didn’t. While Braxton lay dying, I finished Succubus Lord 7, next came 8. Vladimir Nabokov’s The Enchanter came after. So, um, three books before I got to sigh… A Dog’s Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron. But what is my purpose, to keep breathing? More than likely, it’s to waste air, Sophia, I swear.

It’s a good enough reason not to buy physical copies of books. It’s an insult, Lady Sophia, to trees, blasphemy to the air, and humanity… What about it? Look at the last seven books that I’ve read. Sunday has always been a bad day. Well, since B died. But talking to the Man in the Mirror. Hell! I guess he’s sick of telling me about my failures every week. Anyway, I was talking about novels. The last seven were about dirty priests, vampires, elves, video game vixens, and a girl’s corpse. “Can’t Get It Up If The Girl’s Breathing.” Eww! Thank you, Repo! The Genetic Opera. Unfortunately, genetics, “my” biological imperative, demands I keep breathing. How these stories end. Virgil’s story? Just Breathe, B, Virgil

999 Days Without B III, Day 440 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 111 ~Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton~

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With the reading and writing, I do. I’m now saving Virgil’s Birthday? He’s turning three. So, another step towards fifteen… And ain’t nobody reading Braxton’s books yet. It’s hard when they’re unpublished. But today? Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton

Friday, October 20, 2023

Tale 111 ~Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… About how I was a better Daddy to Braxton than Virgil? Hell! That’s like Succubus Lord.

I know that series front, back, and sideways. I’m getting ready to listen to three again (hint, hint). But when I’m going to sleep, I tell myself a bedtime story. I’m already on six and Jacob’s road into Hell. And if that ain’t the story of this existence, minus the hot succubi and other friends.

But let’s stay on topic, which for once ain’t B III. Who am I kidding? It’s always about Triple B. Only today can I focus on Virgil Vivi. Today, he is turning three. And if he’s anything like me, he’d belt out, “I’m still alive. Must have been a miracle.” Or a curse? As the “Good Book” says, we’re all damned anyway. Well, me always. All for my Little Braxton. But what about “my” Virgil?

Do you see what time it is? I can’t say it was the first thing I read. Next to mirrors, clocks are the worst things to look at. Because every second, I can see myself wasting “my” existence. It’s days like yesterday that show everyone else sees this worthless existence.

So I’m not even going to pretend to be happy for Virgil’s birthday? First, I’m never happy about anything. And second, I’ve been trying to be positive. What would make Virgil happy? I wonder. I wasted another seven dollars this morning, but I’m canceling plenty.

“OF” subscriptions? My Lady, particular kinks will do that. Didn’t I talk about my eyes being messed up sometime this week? If anything, I’m tired. And still, there’s time travel.

Only I didn’t think of that when I refused to stay for three extra hours at the Day Job. And you would think with the spare time I’d be finished reading a particular book, that’s um… how to describe it?

I won’t. But I’m so sick of reading about everyone else’s successes. But not any of my own. My Lady, I never burn books but could use the light from V’s B-Day candles. That is if I decide to get up and do anything for his third birthday. Good Luck. “The sun is up, the sky is blue. It’s beautiful, and so are you.” Well, it beats singing Happy Birthday.

Words on an invitation, a card, a gift. Suppose I had Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton.

992 Days Without B III, Day 433 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 104 ~Virgil’s That Sleepy B~

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The best things in life… Sex, Simoleons, and sleep. What about my son? Well, Braxton ain’t here no more. I’ve been sleeping too much to listen to Succubus Lord. What about Satan’s Sorority Sisters. Plus, it’s “Friday the 13th.” Virgil’s That Sleepy B

Friday, October 13, 2023

Tale 104 ~Virgil’s That Sleepy B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… It won’t be the one of braving the highway and or talking to the local government.

No, Lady Sophia. I was too busy doing my best impression of Gabrielle lost to the Flames of Brunhilda. You remember from Xena: Warrior Princess. The last thing I need. Ideas, like I’m Jason Derulo in Want to Want Me. I don’t want to tell myself lies about my continued abstinence. Yeah, right! As if I could even wake up to reset my days without… Lady Sophia, I can live without THAT… I can’t live without Braxton. I’m still breathing. Yes, I am aware. I’m not burning books, but that doesn’t mean the air is clean. It’s clear enough for me to spend all this time sleeping. And after the week I’ve had, Sophia. One more reason I couldn’t go to the courthouse today, sigh.

Well, tell me some pretty girl is waiting for me there… I’m thirty-nine. (Groans). Lady Sophia, I can read all the books about losing fur babies throughout the universe. But a book about love? Myself? Hell! What about a book on cooking? I’ve started reading or instead listening to Succubus Lord again. But I don’t think that counts. And neither does Backyard Dungeon, I’m afraid. I meant to get the audiobook. But I didn’t try too hard to find it. This week has had me reading takeout menus and recipes I’ve seen a thousand times. And government legalese. And all I want to do is close my eyes again. Existence. It’s so hard, Lady Sophia. And no wonder Virgil is following suit as he sleeps.

I’ve spoken so many times in Braxton’s eyes. Seeing myself in his eyes made me want to be better. Virgil knows that if I look at him, I’ll see myself as… Soy un Perdedor, sigh. Only that’s my problem, so why should he have to suffer with being sleeping cuteness? Sophia, I don’t think I’ve ever read the story of Sleeping Beauty. And my stories? Yesterday, as I was listening to Succubus Lord. One of the Succubi talked about fantasies. You know of the dark and forbidden. I imagined what does that mean with mine. Someday, I may write it down if I haven’t already. Any day is a good day for an edit, hmm. I have money? Could I rest? Virgil’s That Sleepy B

985 Days Without B III, Day 426 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 101 ~We’ll B Late, Virgil~

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I know what it’s like when somebody picks you up from school late. Or late with an apology, if it ever comes at all. And late to keep promises or vows. At least when it came to a friend. Braxton tried to be late in leaving. We’ll B Late, Virgil.

Tuesday, October 10, 2023

Tale 101 ~We’ll B Late, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you. Hmm? That intro sounds like an apology. A little bit. I know I owe you one.

Well, some. By my last count, 982 Days’ worth. And I’m still counting. But today is Saturday, October 7, 2023. So, I’m early. No! And what would you have me say? I got caught up crying. I haven’t shed a tear for Braxton today. And that’s not a good sign, love. Speaking of which, I continue to think about that concerning Virgil. One thing is being a father to Braxton and the children you and I share, but keeping Virgil safe and sound? I call that my responsibility. Only with that, “There’s a possibility,” as the song plays. Should I go all Independence Day with it saying, “There’s still love there, I think?” But a Freeloader? Do I still consider Virgil such? And there’s Braxton?

Love can’t tell time. I heard that in a movie once. Hell! The only time I watch movies nowadays. It’s either… for business purposes. I swear I need to get Leana Lovings on the roster. And on, say it with me, January 31. They’re all about dogs or spontaneous combustion. I’ve blown off working on Braxton’s behalf. Holiday? In Memoriam. Ironically, if I had done that before, he could still be alive. And that’s the thing right there, my love. I blame my indifference, but it was also my lateness. And before we ever met… The one thing I didn’t want to be late for was the Day Job. I would return to that place. Love, my entire existence has been one of being late.

Then again you told me you were late. How did I feel about that? Happiness is such a problematic word for me. Again, love can come whenever, but happiness? I’m still trying to meet it. No! I ain’t even going to lie about that. What’s My Age Again? Almost Forty. Love, did you think I forgot about E-Day? Well, I did forget about Christopher Columbus —the so-called holiday. But the pain he caused remains to this very day love. Horrifying. But again, Braxton’s last day, his birthday? Any day that Braxton was with me living. Today is not that day. And I’ll continue to be lazy or late. But nothing less than in love with you. I said this morning, breathing. We’ll B Late, Virgil.

982 Days Without B III, Day 423 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 097 ~Braxton’s Needlessly Picky Virgil…~

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Soon I will end up in a waiting room with crappy magazines. A car dealership, the mechanic down the street, or a health clinic. With Braxton, it was an orange bench and “my” thoughts. A picky thing, books? Braxton’s Needlessly Picky Virgil…

Friday, October 6, 2023

Tale 097 ~Braxton’s Needlessly Picky Virgil…~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… As soon as I find one. Best thing I’ve read today or not. Day Job schedule

It thrills, terrifies, and takes stones, not knowing what I’m doing to get paid again. Oh, how I miss my son. Let me count the ways. When it came to Braxton, money was no object, Sophia. Unfortunately, his Daddy was lazy and angry. And by my math, that equals one thing. Indifference. Is that why I want to read about dead fur babies? To feel what I should have felt the moment Braxton tried to tell me something was wrong. I swear these people. My Lady, they do anything and everything for their fur kids. Where was I, Sophia? Hmm. Reading and writing. As if I really believed I was getting brighter and taking care. Repetition, that’s what Hell is. Repetition. My boy’s death repeated.

Hell! I didn’t find him alive in Virgil. But I see him leaving me, again and again, and again, My Lady. And before his passing… okay, and after with what I’ve been doing all day. Lust would be my darkest sin. It’s Friday, September 29, 2023. A whole week, Sophia. Anyway, if I have to go and TRY to get the car fixed, I need a book that takes my mind off things. I continue to think about Backyard Dungeon 2 by Logan Jacobs. But didn’t I say something about one of the races in the first one? The Nictors? To take offense? Lady Sophia, with everything in the world today and me paying these racists anyway, hmm. There’s other HaremLit, Erotica, Carnival of Flesh

And how about all the other books I have in the Kindle Library? There’s something educational every now and again. Funny, this fascination with reading kept me out of textbooks. But with the Republican party these days. Righteousness over wickedness. That’s the easiest decision to make. Yeah, the GOP are the baddies, Obviously, My Lady. Only choosing between books filled with wise words I will never follow. There are stories of crimes that would keep me on the straight and narrow path… Ha-Ha! What about something to help Virgil? As if I have patience… sitting in bed, talking. Braxton had it easy: peanut butter, cheese, or hot dogs. Free Will? More like spoiled. Sophia? All because I’m lacking waiting room reading. Braxton’s Needlessly Picky Virgil…

978 Days Without B III, Day 419 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will