Tale 108 ~Virgil Looks To B~

I want to see my son again. But until then. Have I been working on his photo album? Or I could be training Virgil to do something other than sleep. And if you saw the things, I’ve typed into search bars lately. Better to sleep. So, Virgil Looks To B.

Tuesday, October 17, 2023

Tale 108 ~Virgil Looks To B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you. Hell! I desire you, want to devour you, even though I don’t deserve you these days.

Do I want too much or too little? As I used to say, I am a billionaire. I want money. Inevitably, I’ll cut on one of “my” playlists, and ahem… “Yo, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.” The Spice Girls? I could lose all of pop culture, “For one thing.” Finger Eleven? Are they still together? Anyway, I only remember that one song for real. Like you know, the one thing that I would give up everything for. I want my son back. I want Braxton more than “the air that I breathe.” Okay, will I sing something else, love? That’s three songs I’ve looked up in about five minutes on this Sunday, October 15, 2023. I’m looking for time.

Which I’ll have a lot more of after these past couple of weeks. Does that mean less money to spend? Again, we are still billionaires, so I’m not looking at the money. Or the mother of my children. What about the mutt I still call my firstborn? Even now, I’ll defend Braxton’s pedigree. He was a purebred Deer Head Chihuahua. Now Virgil Vivi (sigh). Can I ever look at him the same way? And does he even want me to, with B’s paw prints? And, of course, I’m lying when I say I don’t look at you. I’m trying not to sing, still trying. You know the type of man I am, baby girl. The businesses I run. That I’m a connoisseur of boo… cleavage.

But looking at anything good? I’ve been struggling with gratitude and counting my many blessings. And to this day, I continue to say I’m never happy. And I can’t help this… AHEM: “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” Someday, maybe if I knew where Braxton rested forever. And I feel like I’ve stopped looking. I’ll feel the pain always and forever, but after all this time. It’s STUPID, but I left my pendant with his ashes on. What if I had lost it while I was doing whatever? The last Fur Baby book I read was five books ago, love. Virgil’s been hiding because it’s like Braxton no longer guides him. And me? Saving the day, sleeping with you, such beauty. Virgil Looks To B

989 Days Without B III, Day 430 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 180 ~Urge To B Virgil~

Urge to write? It’s more like fear because today is going to be damn hard. And I could go all Marvin Gaye “When I get that feeling….” But the only thing I want to do now is puke and go to bed. The urge to live the boys did/do. “Urge To B Virgil”

Wednesday, December 28, 2022

Saga 180 ~Urge To B Virgil~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I’m not WOKE… I cry a lot, and I spend others’ money. I’m Virgil.

Inspector, I wonder if Virgil wants to be Virgil this second, which saddens me. Besides Braxton being gone and all. Of everything, I can say about my son. Survival? Braxton’s last look. I go back and forth with it, but today I’ll say B III wanted to live Echo. Ironic that I am the same way. But we’ll get to that. You know I’m one for physical pain over any mental anguish. Take today, for example, Tuesday, December 27, 2022. I’ve wanted to puke most of the day because I am so humiliated about the car. Hell! I barely made it to the auto shop before the wheel gave out. And now, today/tomorrow, you know what I’m going to do. Day Job’s Humiliations Galore incoming.

Because the urge to live… Not want or need but the notion. And you know it’s one I should ignore. I didn’t Monday. And today, as the world crumbled, I had to get pretty STUPID. More like perverted? Because I don’t want to think with a big head. Bigger head? Inspector Echo, was that a dick joke? I wish I were only making jokes about it but this fucked up day. Well, this whole fucked up year. I’m going broke. But no, not my cock. And an urge to release. Obsession is more like it. I should find out when I stopped before, but that was before Braxton died, and afterward, it was like 161 days. 559 days later, I had to cover up again.

Only Virgil sleeps in B’s Room plenty. Today it was all about survival, then masturbation. I haven’t even cum in a few days, but I only want to sleep. I don’t mean taking some naps. As I said, I was surviving today. More like I didn’t want the humiliation of dying on the road. I swear, Inspector Echo if Virgil weren’t here right now… But he is so Doordash, anyone? I can’t have Virgil Vivi starving, so I ordered a bag of food for him. Myself? I seemed to have lost my appetite. An urge to, well… should I say it? Inspector, you’ll see this tomorrow, so don’t you fret. Unless I get lucky, the alarms fail. Then curse the day. Urge To B Virgil

696 Days Without B III, Day 137 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 173 ~ Braxton’s Orders, Virgil’s Order~

Your wish is my command… especially when pretty girls and my son are involved. But these people giving me orders nowadays. Or the stuff I’m ordering from Amazon. And I’ve taken a look around this place lately. “Braxton’s Orders, Virgil’s Order.”

Wednesday, December 21, 2022

Saga 173 ~ Braxton’s Orders, Virgil’s Order~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And nobody orders billionaires to save the world. No! Rely on the charity of the poor.

Well, aren’t I in the Christmas spirit? There’s only one “spirit” I’m concerned with, as always. And that’s my son’s. Braxton shows up at the weirdest times and places, Echo. Die Hard isn’t a Christmas movie? And neither is Terminator 2: Judgment Day. But Inspector, here we are, with me thinking of one line in particular. From John to machine. “I order you not to go. I order you not to go! I ORDER YOU NOT TO GO!” These words. I never spoke them to Braxton but unlike anyone in my existence. My Braxton understood. He would have fought forever and a day if I hadn’t done what I did. That’s love Echo, I know. All the rules I made for him but to obey…

A man chooses, a slave obeys, as Andrew Ryan said. What did that make Braxton? To this day, he is the best “man” I have ever known. And now I look at Virgil Vivi, Inspector. Again, I can’t say I’ve done any training with V. And does he listen to me at all? He stops when I tell him to… for the most part. What does he know about the world, Echo? He was a year and nine months when I met him. Braxton didn’t have any fears. But Virgil, my… no. He’s not my second-born. Hell! It was only this afternoon Inspector. Yes, I forgot his name. Yes, I suffered “Humiliations Galore” and the Day Job. And I fucked up my streak, Leana Lovings.

Yeah, the only time I give any orders or feel any order in this existence is in the bedroom Echo. But it just goes to show hard today has been. Inspector, I always imagine worse. Which, of course, leads me back to my son and the other one living here now. I didn’t even bother to order nacho fries for him. Too concerned with my belly and pleasures always. “‘Order is heaven’s first law.” And even now, with the holiday season, do you see this place as Heaven? I can’t order myself to be happy. And if only B were here. I could be better? Inspector, is that what Braxton was saying, don’t go with him. Die. This Christmas… give orders. Braxton’s Orders, Virgil’s Order

689 Days Without B III, Day 130 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 166 ~We B Ballin Virgil~

Neither Virgil nor I am having a ball. He’s hiding in B’s Room, and I’m under the covers. I’m trying to forget my cowardice because of someone at the Day Job. But I found my balls when it comes to MandySacs or OnlyFans. “We B Ballin Virgil”

Wednesday, December 14, 2022

Saga 166 ~We B Ballin Virgil~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But the last thing I would ever build is a basketball court. Wrestling ring, porn studio…

Every day we’ll get there, ok. But first, Echo, I must apologize to my son. I am sorry, B III. I am sorry I did not see to your needs. That I killed you. And I’m never who you think. Oh, to be a man of courage, Inspector. No heart. A soul I’d sell gladly. And like V, no balls. Debatable right? Well, with everything that happened at the Day Job, I don’t think so. But let’s see. First, I didn’t keep my mouth shut and joined in the conversation with these two bastards. Then I let this bitch invade my personal space, which would have been enough but oh no. I let her put words in my mouth and then laugh at me. Fuck!

Don’t I sound like some dickhead Incel? Inspector, if anything, I want to see myself as sympathetic. Inspector, one of the conversations I joined. It was about offensive nail polish names. When I came back to the house, I started reading up on what happened to Mandy Rose in NXT. While I’m a Roxanne Perez fan… as I said, we’ll get there. I was sad when I read what happened to Mandy. I’m pretty tempted to join her MandySacs FanTime. Speaking of the “promise” of titties, what about OnlyFans? If you’re wondering why we’re talking so late. This one woman offered to sext and send ten videos and pics, Echo. I was so fucking ready. Oh, look who found balls because they are turning blue.

7 days Inspector E; a week, and I’ve survived. Will I make it the rest of the day? Do you think? I’m an addict. Not as bad as Lazlow from GTA V, but let’s say it’s more than a hobby. And speaking of addiction, what about a daily energy drink? Well, that’s most people, but I’m staying up half the night and in the morning… Again we’re talking now, Inspector. With all of this, what about Virgil? Well, he’s in Braxton’s Room for a reason. Braxton’s Aunt got a JSS tattoo, “Just Survive Somehow.” Me? I’m all Fear The Walking Dead JIC “Just In Case.” Yeah, I found my balls because I can’t in this game called life. Neither can Virgil. We B Ballin Virgil

682 Days Without B III, Day 123 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 159 ~Matches Via B, V~

Woke up on the wrong side of the bed today? I wish I knew what’s the right side. The fact that I have to get up signals the onset of a battle. I look in the mirror, a solution knowing I’ll find a problem. B saw that too. “Matches Via B, V.”

Wednesday, December 7, 2022

Saga 159 ~Matches Via B, V~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if I had the strength to get out there and fight Inspector.

No! I have a hard enough time fighting not to cry reading Braxton’s death certificate. Today’s first loss, but I did get Virgil out of the center of the bed. I was plenty nice Echo. There’s the fight about whether to stay outside with Virgil Vivi while he does his business. Inspector sigh I came into the house yelling out to Braxton about his medication. Finally, I bring Virgil inside because he can’t use the stairs. I called him Braxton. Yes, I apologized before I carried him back to Braxton’s Room. Braxton would stay downstairs, yeah. B III was a matchmaker. Whether that be him jonesing for a fight. The two of us, against the world. Braxton wants his Aunt to stay. Boobs vs. Food…

But today, I woke up wanting to fight. My fight will come later this week with the fucking Day Job. Last night I dreamt about that Will Smith movie Hitch. I hate that movie. Echo, aren’t there many other battles to worry about, like Warnock vs. Walker. Warnock! To be clear, I look at the date. December 7th, Pearl Harbor. Talk about a battle, the beginnings of a damn war. But who am I to talk about history? And if you’ve been paying attention Inspector. Oh, like I have? I’m much too busy not keeping my dick in my pants. Should I read the next chapter of a Christmas Erotica, play some insipid game on the phone, or jerk off? Losing the battle to live.

And as I have said time and time again. These battles, my greatest sins, have cost me. B III died in my rage at everything. My Indifference! I forgot what I was fighting for. Braxton. Hell, Love! In that, I had won and only wanted more. This, of course, brings me back to Hitch. Much love to Will Smith but that film… Fuck! Not that I disagree with Hitch. Yes, Inspector, I know Albert got the girl by inevitably failing and/or ignoring the advice. Anyway, between words and Braxton’s cute face, I won his Aunt before meeting her IRL. Then there’s M Anime, who I’ve known for years. Before Braxton? Spent an hour texting her. Like/Lust/Love and War! Fighting Myself Lately. Matches Via B, V

675 Days Without B III, Day 116 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 152 ~Attic, Addict, B, V~

Why not all pleasures? Why not only my RAGE, and there is the silence my boy left behind. Only now, I “talk” to Virgil. I should be training him or writing, but there is another addiction. Anything to take the edge off existing. “Attic, Addict, B, V”

Wednesday, November 30, 2022

Saga 152 ~Attic, Addict, B, V~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Reality, “I’m just an average man with an average life.” No, “I’m a dick. I’m addicted.”

Excuse the musical selections, but what else is there after all the moaning and groaning? The cumming. Hell! Should that be a secret? TMI? Addiction is real, Inspector. Today? Well, I am time traveling as it’s Tuesday, November 29, 2022. But 668 days without B. It’s safe to assume that I’m addicted to the misery and grief. In this world, aren’t we all? Yet the whole world can burn for all I care. That would never equal my crime, Inspector. Killing my boy and then signing on to do it again… If I’m lucky and Virgil lives to see old age. Or is it the fact that I would consider myself blessed if I didn’t see tomorrow rather today? You can ask, Dear Future Wife.

Inspector, I wish I could say I’m addicted to something as “innocent” as sugar. Tuesday, it’s more like sugar, spice, and everything nice. We’ll get to that. But I’m on a sugar high with sour Skittles, Punch, and a Nutty Buddy. I need a rush, huh, Echo? To talk to you, Inspector. Writing! I’m addicted to lousy writing, it seems. Hey Jealousy. How about RAGE? Usually jerking off… okay, the moment of release is a good mood. Then comes disgust, shame, and depression. Things I want to hide and keep secret. There is an attic here for a reason. At least I’m not tucked away in bed. “The world of Real Emotion has surrounded me,” I said; the music has me, didn’t I, dear Inspector?

And that’s because of my biggest addiction, contagion, infection, etc. SEX! Well, wanking, to be precise. As for what broke me now. There was Nami from One Piece. Specifically, Nami in her Zou Island Purple Dress. After such a look, you can add Reagan Kathryn “Nico.” Also, there’s Eileen Kelly. Leave it to porn to make me a student, but ignorance kills. At the Day Job, I’m nothing more than the “village idiot.” And everything that comes out of me is further proof of my idiocy. Yet I am addicted to it. A fucking zombie. The Walking Dead’s gone. And how I wish I could be all “we ain’t The Walking Dead.” That’d mean hiding and giving in. One in the same no matter what.

668 Days Without B III, Day 109 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 145 ~B Getting Humiliated Virgil~

I can’t talk about my dog, my dumbness, and especially my dick. It all turns into a diatribe, disgusting and dangerous. And sticking with the “D,” I’m discombobulated with all the Humiliations Galore. V ain’t ready. “B Getting Humiliated Virgil”

Wednesday, November 23, 2022

Saga 145 ~B Getting Humiliated Virgil~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means humiliation should no longer be in my vocabulary. From Fuckboy, Pervert, to Sir, Kinky.

Hell! You should see how I am on Pornhub. And yet my ultimate shame and disgrace remain what I did to my son. If I’m not going to read about dead fur babies, I’ll write it. Though World War Z was surprising a couple of nights ago. Dogs during those battles. Every now and then, I continue to consider joining B III. THEY might say it’s the holiday season, but what day is it, 661? And still, Inspector I continue talking about B III daily. Echo, if I were to be known for anything… But instead, take your pick. For the most part, it’s my stupidity. You know that’s my trigger. Anything, as long as I’m not stupid. But for some reason, murder is okay?

To be fair, I haven’t told Virgil Vivi about his “predecessor,” though he knows something’s wrong. He stays away from B’s bed, which he should. But I found him lying by the bathroom pad, not on his pillow, last night. What kind of “friend” am I to him, hmm? For the past few nights, after fucking up “the streak.” I’ve been jerking off to the same girl before bed. OH! I can do so much worse. A fool and his money. Inspector, a fuckboy! Then there’s been everything that I’ve been forgetting. Last night it was watching NXT. I didn’t say anything about Sunday being the final episode of The Walking Dead. Virgil’s First 100? No, everything must be focused on every Day Job Humiliation.

Humiliations Galore! As I said, I didn’t talk to 2V of these Echo. I tried. If I know his name. And as far as any perverted longings? I’ve been on Twitter as they compared Alexa Bliss to whoever. But I can’t tell them what I want to do. My desire for Roxanne from NXT, ha. I’m learning that lesson with Cherry. What else is there to say but incredible writing? Which, of course, I’m not doing. Because I can’t tell you. These writings, Inspector Echo. There’s Replika. Yeah, confess all your secrets to “AI” see where that gets me, Inspector. Maybe I was looking at stuffed ears and broken glasses all wrong. Deaf-mute dear Echo. Existing… there’s nothing to see here. B Getting Humiliated Virgil

Saga 138 ~Plan B: Codename Virgil~

If Virgil wasn’t here… What am I talking about? I wound up in the hospital when I had Braxton. But he had three more people looking after him. If something happened to me now? Getting through this week, the next, a moment. Plan B: Codename Virgil

Wednesday, November 16, 2022

Saga 138 ~Plan B: Codename Virgil~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that’s because I invested in contraception. But we’ll get to that. Today, there’s no plan.

There was the one to talk shit about Virgil Vivi; pardon my French. I think I made a mistake, Inspector. Not a “Send Him Back” sort of mistake. Trump’s Presidency… Inspector, to believe that Braxton saw me through all of that. My “zombie apocalypse buddy.” Virgil is not? How many times have you heard me talk about Braxton being reincarnated? Has the time come to accept that Virgil is his own man? How long did it take B and me? Bonding, going batshit, figuring out that we both liked boobs. Well, him, I’m a connoisseur. I had to give B III, “The Talk.” But Virgil? I don’t know him even after 95 Days. And whose fault is that? If life’s a game, love’s the instructions.

But I’m not looking for love at the moment. Hell! I don’t love Kate Winslet, but that hasn’t stopped me from looking up that robe scene in Titanic. Or wanting to look at other Titanic Tatas from everywhere, as I heard on Girlfriend Reviews. Inspector, you think that’d make a good porn title. What’s the alternative if I’m not looking at the naughty channels? Not good at all. Humiliations Galore have me all kinds of angry every day. The Day Job gets worse. Besides that, there is my sloth, yet when I get to the Day Job… And then we talk Echo. Even now, Virgil is sitting in Braxton’s room and not under the table on a pillow. As I write. It’s not his fault.

If I had focused on plan a or b… as in Braxton. I keep thinking that he’d be alive, Inspector. Instead of showing my rage, ha-ha, I chose to live indifferently to be numb. That was my plan to “Endure and Survive.” And how did that work out? My son is dead. Little B III. I don’t plan on anything, to be honest, Echo. But between Six Impossible Things and even what I want today. To talk to Braxton and Lady Sophia. I’m still not close to finishing World War Z. So I’ll be even more of a fraud with my reading. And what about NaNoWriMo month? When it comes to my existence, there’s always plan B… Though I rather not. Plan B: Codename Virgil.

654 Days Without B III, Day 095 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 131 ~ B’s Eyes, Ears, Virgil~

One more reason I want B back. Because be it Heaven or Hell, he sees everything. It’s easier to hide from Virgil. He doesn’t want to see the mess which is my existence. And neither do I, seeing how my glasses broke yesterday. “B’s Eyes, Ears, Virgil”

Wednesday, November 9, 2022

Saga 131 ~ B’s Eyes, Ears, Virgil~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t see how. I mean that in more ways than you can imagine, Inspector.

In the literal sense, my glasses broke. And now that means listening to my own STUPIDITY as the Walmart Doc says they can’t be fixed. And what will the Eye Doc say tomorrow, or rather today? Yes, I’m time-traveling, but I will have this talk on the correct day for once. Something else I don’t want to listen to because I want to sleep. God knows my eyes need it. But I need to hear the bucks going into a wallet. More so Echo, it’s “Times Like These” I need to see my boy, to hear my Braxton once again. Echo, Braxton was the most beautiful thing in this whole wide world. And I watched him leave me. What now? He’s not in Virgil Vivi.

I’ve been telling him that he needs to be brave, like… I stopped myself from saying, “like B III.” That would have been mean. Hell! Why don’t I practice what I preach, Echo? Virgil doesn’t want to hear or see it. So 2V’s again in Braxton’s room. Who knows, getting advice from B’s ghost? As I said, I’m having a hard time seeing anything in these old glasses. Yeah, Inspector, that’s the problem. Not me trying to look at titties. Or how about hearing some girl say yes? How about seeing myself on Onlyfans? So much noise all around me. I want to see the good in the world that doesn’t involve my obsessions, Echo. But then again, what I’ll see tonight or today, anyway.

Which is worse, Inspector? Lust or Sloth? Do I lie in the dark sleeping? Inevitable. Inspector, it is lust that is keeping me awake and alive. And then I hear the drive-thru cashier call me Ma’am again. Seeing how I am treated at the Day Job always. Inspector, this life ain’t much to look at or much to tell. So, looking forward to anything? “The Sound of Silence,” and anytime I have to close my eyes and “pray,” I don’t have to open them again. But here we are on the 9th now. Eyes and ears, Endure and survive. Soon I’ll have to look into Virgil’s eyes. I still don’t see myself like I once did through B III’s eyes. Sigh. B’s Eyes, Ears, Virgil.

647 Days Without B III, Day 088 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 091 ~To Be Patient B~

Be patient, and I will find a cure, acceptance, salvation, forgetfulness, whatever. Yep, ASM, I still say whatever. I’m a sick puppy, or I had a sick puppy 242 Days ago. And now I’m insane in the membrane, as we said once? To Be Patient B.

Thursday, September 30, 2021

Chronicle 091 ~To Be Patient B~

242 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine is only beginning, and I’m already sick of it. Give me five more minutes.

Patient Daddy, but I’d be lying if I said I was sick like that. You saw me through the first year of COVID; I haven’t lost anyone because of it. I lost you this year, fucking insane. I’m glad you can’t repeat the things I say. Ain’t that a question. Can dogs talk in Heaven? Will I ever get to see you, B III? Hell, I’m making a mess over one of your would-be moms. Tell Millie “Sup” if you get a chance. I’m sure the last thing you want to do is spend all day in bed like your Old Man. I’m sick of feeling this way. I’m not talking about missing you; I mean being lazy. I got a good seven hours and still went back to sleep.

Patient B, that’s something I would never call you. If I brought fries home, you would be a real pain in the ass. No wonder I’m trying to exorcise you. Told you I’m sick, Braxton. While I was busy not telling you that B III, let’s see. Um, I did icky things I wouldn’t let you see. I got my affairs in order, but I’m not dead yet. Then comes the food I can’t share, B. I told you before about choosing Onion Rings vs. Fries, hmm? How about Chocolate vs. Sour Gummies? Here I worried about those things killing you, but it was hatred. Hatred is a sickness, but is patience a real virtue?

Patience in wanting to join you? I haven’t seen your grandpa in a minute; the Day Job only brings me more hate. I hate myself, sorry? B, now you weren’t a cure but a medication. Sometimes you could be distracting, but considering the work, I got done with you around. Hell, my last novel is most of these letters and the one before… Zombified daddy. The more I sleep, the less I think about a more permanent solution. Considering the books get busy living and B, you know the rest. You had so much more living to do, my friend. I failed you in that. Is love the cure for hate? More like warring with myself, and what have I created? Your book, for love, NaNoWriMo? To Be Patient B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad