Tag: Ending

Tale 124 ~B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons~

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People want a reset button. I don’t. I’ll wait for someone to push the wrong one, as I’m too lazy to play the game. And This Is America where even doors are an issue, Mr. Cruz. I try not to push people’s buttons, but B, V. B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons.

Thursday, November 2, 2023

Tale 124 ~B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons~

1005 Days Without B III, Day 446 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s only been seven hours, and I’m already counting today as a loss. Nothing new.

Speaking of which, “my” bank account. Not that we talked about that much, Little B. Every day, you had a roof over your head, a collar around your neck, food in your bowl, and… Ain’t that what you’re supposed to do? I’m your child. You had me. I didn’t ask to be here. Whatever happened to that video, Braxton? Were you even here during that? The things I need to give up. But no worries, B III, it will never be Virgil Vivi. He’s here. Still collarless… May I remind you how you’d sometimes get your nail stuck in yours? And with all the button pushing, getting your collar off was just the worst. Did I finally find something I would not like to repeat?

Hell! To me, that’s called breathing. This is one more reason this week’s been horrible. All the time in the world, Braxton. And what have I done with it? I just push a button, son. And as the song goes, “What A Heavenly Way To Die.” Or at least I can pretend a lot B. “When we pretend that we’re dead.” That is not a game Virgil likes to play. Then again, I’m at the dining room table while his pillow is in the wash. Vomiting. Not this again, B. Especially with how next week will be. Fear, Pain? I’ll never forget the one when you left me here all alone. Didn’t I say Virgil’s here… How do I forgive myself? Just push a button.

But not one of these buttons has the word LIVE on the front. And even if one did B III… There’s always the one that sends me right back to sleep. We’re approaching 9:00 AM. Before I try lying away, you know what begins in November. NaNoWriMo? Um, No F… And I already screwed that up. I should wear pants with buttons more often. Only, it’s never a good thing anytime I leave the house, except for running with your Aunt Carolina. I hope you’re checking in on her and the doctors. There are so many buttons to push I could never be one. Only I’m not much of a writer either. Because existing Braxton, without your button nose, really sucks. B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 121 ~Prisons Have Many Different Forms~

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I was arrested once when I was young and STUPID. I’m not young anymore, but STUPIDITY is a virus. I’m infected with it. There’s also Depravity, Fear, and Pain. And for today, at least, Sadness encompasses them all. “Prisons Have Many Different Forms”

Monday, October 30, 2023

Tale 121 ~Prisons Have Many Different Forms~

Three-Hundredth And Fifteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… like anything dealing with Time Travel. A dangerous business this is. And what’s my punishment, Dear Madam?

Grounding me, “When We Were Young” was no TV, Internet, and the like —going nowhere? As I was telling Baby B this morning, Thursday, October 26, 2023. I’m not going to Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge, or Purgatory. With that knowledge, I long to die. Why?

Sleeplessness? Now, that would be a punishment. I haven’t taken a nap today. But Hell, Braxton’s been gone 1,002 days. It’s like I’m doing life.

Sexlessness? I might as well be a damn eunuch. I’d say a priest. But only if Braxton were my religion. And there’s no women here.

Simoleons aren’t rolling in like they did the last few weeks, sigh. I barely made a hundred dollars. These are like confessions for Inspector Echo, Madam —my Dirty Little Secret.

Secrets, to be fair. And silence is one Hell of a prison. This is why I’ve been all about buying audiobooks. eBooks, and stealing “ideas” from X/Twitter. Things “Things That Make You Go, Hmm.” It’s more like things that make you moan and other noises…

Sadness though… That’s the one thing that has been loud and clear. If I hadn’t stopped crying at some point, I’m sure I would have drowned in my tears by now. Have I cried today? At the moment, I feel like crying. Only it’s not 100% Braxton. I mentioned I didn’t get a nap and was so frustrated this morning that I’m back to Day One-ish. Being a slave to certain addictions makes me sick and tired. It’s pretty sad.

It’s like when you hear an icon talking about a crime. And you know for a fact, yeah, I did that. Hell! I’ll do that tomorrow and the next day. It’s how certain people look at history, knowing they want to do such things and then trying to claim innocence.

Madam, why else do you think I read all those books on people who had to make “the decision” for their fur babies? You exist with that choice and then in the presence of their absence. It’s always and forever. And yet, you get to walk away from the crime. I remember my perp walk from Banfield and the aisle of PetSmart. I’ve never left.

What are my other crimes? Prisons Have Many Different Forms.

1002 Days Without B III, Day 443 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 119 ~Braxton For 1,000, Virgil~

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So, 1,000 Days since Braxton’s been gone? Why does it hurt more to think of these 1,000 Days? And the 15 years that I spent with him? Than the 39 years of “my” existence, I’ve wasted? Over 1,000 words, never can say goodbye. Braxton For 1,000, Virgil

Saturday, October 28, 2023

Tale 119 ~Braxton For 1,000, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… Sigh. If I were, I wouldn’t say I’ve wasted 39 years of existence. But it’s been…

“Though a thousand words
Have never been spoken.”
1000 Words

1,000 Days. Lady Lu, I have let 1,000 Days negate the 15 years I spent with my son, B III. And I know it’s not right, fair, or just. But when have I ever been right? Or even been a fan of Math? It doesn’t sound like a lot. Hell! To me, it’s one messed up excuse to sit here. 1,000 Days AND more. That is what terrifies me. And it should scare Virgil to death as well. Seeing as how he’s been here for 441 Days of them. But how many more, Lady Lu? I was supposed to be up at 8:00 AM to take him outside. So why haven’t I? I’ll tell you. Because I know he’s hungry, and where’s his dinner, Lunalesca?

1,000 Days, time loses all meaning. So breakfast, lunch, um, ok, a snack Lady Lunalesca? At least I can say it’s not anger or lust that holds me back. It’s only shame and sloth now. And in Virgil’s 441 Days here, I’m sure he has cried over 1,000 times. It only took me ignoring Braxton’s cries once for him to end up “resting in a box. Lunalesca, the lesson. 1,000 Days later, I haven’t learned a damn thing. I would say 1,000 Yabbos later. But we both know I’ve seen more than 1,000. And that’s only with October. With me almost being 40… again, it’s October, but my latest E-Day continues to haunt me. Tis the season, isn’t it, Lu? But Braxton Barks Bradford’s ghost…

1,000 Days. I don’t know what I’m trying to do anymore. Do I want to forget him? No, not ever. So why have I procrastinated by reading over 1,000 words from all these emails? Lunalesca, I’ve been lamenting that I’m not participating in NaNoWriMo this year. But if I write 400 words a year, that’s 146,000 words. Lady Lunalesca, I’m doing nearly three NaNoWriMo challenges a year. And what have any of those words ever gotten, Luna? 1,000 Days saying goodbye to my son? Only I’ve never found Acceptance, Lady Luna. The other day, I petted V’s head and said, “You’re a good boy, B.” So, 1,000 days, ha. Days, words, dollars. One thousand more won’t bring Braxton back to me… Braxton For 1,000, Virgil

1,000 Days Without B III, Day 441 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 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

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I’m not right. When I know I’m wrong, I don’t exactly stop. Moral compass? All those don’t steal, don’t kill, and the rest. I know a few companies that would be pissed. My son is dead. And when X/Twitter is reporting on crimes. “Wrong Answers, B, V.”

Thursday, October 26, 2023

Tale 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

998 Days Without B III, Day 439 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s only 7:30 here, and I woke up at 4:00. Yesterday was even worse, B.

Not to sound like “Since U Been Gone…” I’ve looked at you as the angel on my shoulder, Braxton. But I would call you a little douche. And what was the middle ground? Just B. Every day, I wake up wishing you could just be. Because at the end of the day, your good dog moments beat out your bad puppy antics. It doesn’t work that way with men religiously. And when did I become one of the righteous? “I’m a man of God, but I don’t need a savior.” What I mean, Triple B, is I tried to “Do the Right Thing.” Saving you? Braxton, it couldn’t be done, and trying to keep you alive would have been a “Way Wrong Answer!” Killing you?

I swear B that there are no right answers in this world. And maybe that was your secret B III. You never answered questions. Hell! How many pictures do I have of your eyes, B? One of the few things Virgil Vivi has in common with you is that he doesn’t answer me. Wasn’t that one of the rules I had for you? Answer me so I know where you are in the room. It was the only way I could protect you. And again, did I? I failed miserably. And it’s not like you answer any of these letters anyway. I’m starting to feel like Bella from New Moon. Can I not think about Kristen Stewart or any girl? Another reason I’m late today

Yeah, Wednesday was a shit show. My head got slammed by a shelf Wednesday. But seeing how I woke up today, can I rule out a concussion? Anything that brings me closer to you. Only I’m not coming to The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, not even purgatory. The 9th Circle. And why? Taking “my” own existence would be a sin. And I can’t even get that right despite all my studies. That’s what I was thinking about Wednesday… researching sin. There’s always death, primarily zombies. I said something this week about monster/demon girls… Succubi, Witches, Heather Loralie, the list goes on —torture, Hentai, and grieving fur babies. There’s punishment, sleep deprivation, no sex… Ha! Only Masturbation. There’s being broke, zero simoleons. Sigh. Wrong Answers, B, V.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 114 ~Some Sirens Find You Regardless~

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Sometimes, when I reread “my” ramblings, I see I wasn’t meant to talk. Screaming, moaning? Hell! Be the strong, silent type. No. That was my son. But there’s only one of him to cry over. No tears for the ladies? Well? Some Sirens Find You Regardless.

Monday, October 23, 2023

Tale 114 ~Some Sirens Find You Regardless~

Three-Hundredth And Fourteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… And how about websites? To think. Suppose I lost access to Twitter/X, Onlyfans, and The Pic Phenomenon.

Suppose I lost it all for a day, Madam—only one day. And I’m trying, Madam. Braxton knows I’m trying. When Braxton was here, as Michael Jackson sang it, “Keep it in the closet.” Ha-ha. And yet I had to give my son “The Talk.” Especially when it came to his Aunt Carolina; my Braxton was a man who recognized her “assets,” the same as me. Like father, like son. Regardless of such features, Virgil will not have such problems. No woman has been in this house since his arrival. As a matter of fact. No maids, best friends, or even women of… um, never mind. Not that I have ever paid for “it.” But there have been other things. And if not. There’s Whisper.

That’s where I met Braxton’s Aunt, and that “Must have been a miracle,” Madam Justice. A lack of bedsprings to sing must mean I find my musical taste elsewhere. Everywhere! But women. Now, I treat everyone as if they’re carriers of a zombie plague. Infected! I always say… ok think, “If you’re not my dog, my girl, or applying for the job, don’t touch me.” Only with women, it’s like something out of the Bible. “Fear not them that kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear (HER) that is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.” If I’m not studying or fawning over the dead, give me mermaids, succubi, Lilith, witches, maenads, scream queens, and sirens.

Who has more monsters, men or women? I wrote a book about it once. Monster Brothel? But that’s not the point. And what is, my critic will ask. I fall in love easily? Once upon a time. And quite horribly. Only that’s something I have to thank Braxton for. He showed me love, and then he broke my heart. Hell! Who needs women? My B was/is braver more beautiful. And yes, better than any woman. Yet I always promised I’d find him a mom. Yeah. Women are everywhere. I will burn or freeze in the Ninth Circle for betraying him. I either deserve to burn and yet be cold and sleepless. Or I’m not worthy of a girl on fire. Some Sirens Find You Regardless

995 Days Without B III, Day 436 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 112 ~Virgil, A Fool B…elieves~

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I believed… okay, wanted to that God would save my son. I never believed books on grieving would help me. And I don’t believe a cookbook would do me any good, so I never bought one. Yet I believe in a billion dollars! “Virgil, A Fool B…elieves.”

Saturday, October 21, 2023

Tale 112 ~Virgil, A Fool B…elieves~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… and other lies I tell myself. I’ll wake up on time. Won’t commit a crime. Dimes?

I swear, Lady Lunalesca, I should already be up and about, and for what? To spend more money that I don’t have. And didn’t I refuse to stay longer at the Day Job? For what? Lunalesca, sing it with me. “I need some sleep. It can’t go on like this.” But did I, Lady Lu? “No, I don’t think I will.” And I wish I could say it was my guilt about my son, Braxton. Hell! What about Little Virgil? How is three treating him? I’m still in bed, Lunalesca. Going outside is the last thing on my mind. But again, I’m going to have to go out regardless. I gotta eat. Or rather, I won’t let Virgil starve. Am I a monster? A fool?

Every day, Lady Lunalesca, I read. Do you want to know why? I heard in some motivational speech from Eric Thomas… I “believe.” Anyway, he said Bill Gates reads 50 books a year. So, plenty of people read way more, but Bill Gates is worth $104 Billion. I swear, Lady Lunalesca! Warren Buffet is worth $106 Billion. There are many ahead of them. For sure, but I don’t know their reading lists. But what am I reading this week? Hmm. Princess Tamer: A LitRPG Harem Adventure by Neil Bimbeau. First, that name… Pseudonym, seriously. Second, it’s not like I can tell the Man in the Mirror this week. I got way too much stuff to do, Lady Lu, and why is that? Because I believe…

Sundays, Lady Lunalesca. I haven’t “talked” to God since B. And talking to myself, huh? Yeah. That guy is thirty-nine and doesn’t know anything besides Endure and Survive. Or how, as Andrew Ryan put it, “A man chooses. A slave obeys.” Lunalesca, a fool? Lunalesca, I believe that a small nap won’t hurt me, and then existence abandons me. Every day, I believe I deserve Hell for what happened to B III. Justice, revenge, whatever. Yet I treat the phone with much more care than I did him. Lunalesca, what could I give up? The Power of Love? I wish. As Todd put it, I believe in The Power of the, um, you know Lu. And then the things I do… Virgil, A Fool B…elieves

993 Days Without B III, Day 434 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 110 ~Virgil Sounds Off Braxton~

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I didn’t know V was howling. For a few weeks, he only coughed like hacking up a lung. Then his howl when I left, vomiting and barking at a possum. Hell! All I’m saying is don’t you effing die to myself. “Virgil Sounds Off Braxton”

Thursday, October 19, 2023

Tale 110 ~Virgil Sounds Off Braxton~

991 Days Without B III, Day 432 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Would I be better off if I lied to you? Sorry B, highway, government, time-travel…

This is why I’m talking to you today. “Good morning, and in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night.” Since wrestling isn’t on tonight, I could watch The Truman Show. NXT was on Tuesday, and I didn’t watch any of it either B III. Roxanne Perez, Piper Niven… And yet, I wonder why I like M Anime so much. It’s the best of both worlds, but we’ll get to that. I should keep it in my pants, but Braxton Barks. Remember when your Aunt Carolina would come by, and you’d be awfully busy with your toy? And she had to let you run all over her massive pair of… Um, anyway, you were very vocal, liking her, not liking her.

But it would be nice if you kept her in your thoughts today. Triple B, please. Probably me, too. Wednesday… well, today for me. I’m thinking about what I have to do. Highways B… Thirty-nine and counting, unfortunately. And the only time I’ve taken a trip like this is when your Aunt was getting married. She’s not anymore, but I’m still scared to death. Hell! She is my friend, and you are my son. And that was enough to give me courage in 2019. And why do I need to talk about courage, your Aunt Carolina, and car rides? Braxton, we’re talking a few miles to prove to Uncle Sam that I am, whatever you say I am. Well, not you specifically. To you, I was Daddy. To them… sigh.

What about to Virgil? He’s sitting at the door in your room, but for once, he’s quiet. You should hear him when I leave the house. I’m sure you have. Have you been scaring him? I’m sorry, Triple B, for my attempts at Halloween humor. Will I even get to see it? Do I have no faith in my driving ability? Or that of other people? Remember sitting with me, Braxton? With my luck, I’ll even end up in Hell, a ghost or a zombie, with no chance of seeing you. If I make it back, I’m the monster or whatever Virgil thinks I am, All to defend a name I hate. And I don’t call Virgil my son. Yet, ever… Virgil Sounds Off Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 107 ~Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed~

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I watch people with purses, knapsacks, lunch containers, book bags, and everything else daily. All they need today or longer? And those people in boxes? Or Hell! Bags too. A good supply of them with everything going on. Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed.

Monday, October 16, 2023

Tale 107 ~Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed~

Three-Hundredth And Thirteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Am I getting better with these intros, or what? Do I have writing in the bag? Hmm.

And a lot of other stuff, too. It’s better not to go flaunting everything that I carry around with me. Have you ever heard that song, Head Shoulders Knees and Toes? The adult version of that is Phone Wallet Keys and Glasses. And who said I am a grown-up? Ha! I’m still crying over Braxton. He is the only one I carry with me. Madam, there was this big storm, and I remember grabbing the box with Braxton’s… remains. I mean, if the town blew away and all. Anything that takes me to my boy. Or prevents me from going outside. I mean today since I’m time traveling. It’s Sunday, October 15, 2023. That means? I’ll be spending today thinking of being in a box.

I need to stop with this. Uh, I’ve been watching for days on end. People winding up in a bag or a box. “Glass or plastic, glass or plastic?” As Stanley Goodspeed might say. Gulp. Am I going to offend anyone by talking about Israel, Hamas, Palestine, Iran, or wherever? If I did, you know how I am… scorched Earth. I don’t pack up and leave or box stuff up. Do I have to remember that time the Olds cut me off? I bagged up a lot of things then. Hell! I even left Braxton because I had no clue where I was going. It was the longest B and I were apart. And now? If we count Monday, it’s been 988 Days. Keep counting.

What? The ways bags are better than boxes. Suppose I can remember why I even made this rule, Madam. Other than how I’ve wanted a briefcase to hold money or… viruses. Resident Evil. To think there was a time I wanted to study Virology. Putting people in boxes? Madam, I don’t mean how M Anime talks about going “soldier.” But speaking of boxes… uh, yeah. I want to be in her box or Cherry’s. And how many women can I name? And still, that would be nothing but trouble. Tell that to Pandora. Some boxes should stay closed and yet. I want a million, um, a billion dollars kept in a duffle bag. Now that would be living, wouldn’t it? Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed

988 Days Without B III, Day 429 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will