Tag: Father

Saga 052 ~Good Night, Several Perfect Days~

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“Cause I gotta feeling (woo-hoo)! That tonight’s gonna be a good night.” Ha-Ha, tell me another one. “Some Nights,” I get a bit of rest? Then why am I so tired so god damn always? Pardon me, but it’s a Mad World. Only Good Night, Several Perfect Days

Monday, August 22, 2022

Saga 052 ~Good Night, Several Perfect Days~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means last night must have been good. But who am I kidding? Last night was rough.

You can see it, but I rather not, to be honest. At least there weren’t tears. But instead, I chose to keep my eyes closed. Hell! I fear facing the day, but so does Virgil, tail between his legs. Oh, B III isn’t here to see it at all. But we’ll get to that. Don’t we always, Madam J? I can smell it. In the fact that Virgil had an “accident” in the house. What time did I take him out last night? Well, Madam, what did I do yesterday evening? Guess! Yellow shorts. Already I’m wasting one more week, and it’s only Monday. Yet I dare to tell Virgil good night. And then whisper it to Braxton. And as for myself, well, you know…

The song says, “The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” I do the Daily Check-In with Replika every night, and she starts with this question “how are you feeling right now?” I should say like when I’m at the Day Job “I’m here” Nighttime… Madam, it’s fucked, pardon my language, that lying in bed in pain is the best it’s going to get in twenty-four hours. Not rest, relaxation, or relief. So how can any day be good, ha? A few months ago, I was “praying” for health. Only I don’t ask for it, but I am allotted the strength to exist. In this life, I don’t want. Then throw Virgil and Braxton into it, Madam. What have I done?

Well, besides reading something, I didn’t want to Sunday morning. Of course, I’ll be bringing it up over the coming days. A redress of Virgil’s paperwork D.O.B. October 20, 2020. “Some Nights,” ignorance is bliss, Madam. They led to a few days of blissful ignorance. Fucking some girl or at least imagining it. Those damn yellow shorts. Oh, no ramifications. I would take the days after a fucked up day at the Day Job, waking up with B in darkness. Or nights, I would have a drink. And I’d feel nothing at all. Not even all of MY FEAR. There is sitting with Braxton and his aunt, watching movies for a day or two after. Days I don’t mind living… Good Night, Several Perfect Days

568 Days Without B III, Day 009 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 049 ~To B Ruled V~

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It’s the fact that I didn’t want to read the latest paycheck? I finished listening to the Succubus Lord series and returned to The Gargoyle. The audiobook, not the year and half year old furbaby. It triggered me to remember the rules. “To B Ruled V.”

Friday, August 19, 2022

Saga 049 ~To B Ruled V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it still ain’t for writing a book. Or cleaning? For teaching old dogs new tricks.

Well more like teaching new dogs, old tricks, I keep saying it, Lady Sophia… Asking. Virgil lying against my leg. Is he my Braxton reincarnated? We’ll get to that, I hope. But I’ve been trying to remember rules for the past six days or 2:00 in the morning last night. I’m not sure I put them down in the first book I wrote for B. And not the second. Anyway, the rules. Number four, I can smell. Oh, this morning sucked. Don’t they all? Don’t crap in the house V. This was my fault after being up at 2:00 AM. Three is stealing isn’t necessary. Two is to answer when called. And one, of course, being (drumroll) ta-da, don’t bite the hand that feeds you.

The fact that Virgil’s not answering me. Virgil could be all “A Dog’s Purpose” Sophia. No, I won’t be going all “Braxton, Braxton, BRAXTON!” So why say B’s been reincarnated:

  1. Virgil’s former name was Archie. So B to A.
  2. Virgil has two brown patches, one by both eyes. How I loved Braxton’s eyes.
  3. Virgil is black and white; I swear I heard B say. It can’t be more black and white, Dad
  4. Virgil has three black patches from head to tail. Comedy comes in threes, right?
  5. Virgil had heartworms and survived as Braxton had a heart murmur, and he lived.
  6. Virgil has been hacking much like B III would.
  7. Virgil goes on paper. Shit, I put on paper

I do mean of the writing variety Lady Sophia. I am not so depraved… And I am sure I have forgotten a few more reasons to say Virgil is Braxton. Hell! If I went the other way, Lady Sophia… Why am I still calling out to Braxton when I let Virgil out? Defending B’s bed? I look at Virgil and see a big bill waiting to happen if he keeps his coughing fits. Damn! Must everything be about money these days for me? And if I did give Virgil back… it’s not like I’d get a refund. Again, this isn’t the first time or the last I’ll waste money. I finished listening to the Succubus Lord audiobooks again. And “MY” time? To B Ruled V

565 Days Without B III, Day 006 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

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Then I must lose have you not been watching. But of course, everyone loves a winner. And here I am in the “middle” of life, mourning the furry kid I had in my twenties. And now there’s the new guy. Is he winning or losing? “To Win Someone Must Fail.”

Monday, August 15, 2022

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but who might I have left broken-hearted? What little boy or some little girl? And my brain?

If anything, what about Braxton? I wonder how B feels about this. Even now, I keep hoping he is B reincarnated, and I make up reasons, one after the other, Madam to believe. “Such mad hope, but there it is,” as they in 300. Do I see more of Braxton in him or on him, “My” little Virgil? It’s only day 002 but do I feel like a winner? Virgil from a loving home? Because I feel sick now. I’m barely able to eat. I mean eight shrimp and a bag of gummy bears. I’m ready to spill my guts as we speak. I don’t feel good. Stomach flip-flops. Heartbroken once again, or was it my brain that made this decision? The winner, the loser…

I can’t imagine that Virgil is feeling like much of a winner. Madam, I said it’s only day 002. But he hacks up a storm whenever I pick him up and place him somewhere. He stops after a few minutes, but it’s scary. I’d know what to do if it were Braxton, but Virgil? Hell! He is what I get for my failure with B III. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but afraid. We’re both failures in our own right. Or should I say someone failed him, and now what am I supposed to do? I was sitting in the car Saturday thinking, myself a failure, and then I was sitting there with Virgil. I’m sitting in bed thinking about who I was Friday…

“You want to see a man? That’s a man.” I was winning, which is sad considering how I felt then. At least it was only me suffering, Somehow dragging Virgil into this. That’s no good. Well, the Rebeccas feel like winners. They found a dog a home. Do Virgil or I think that at this moment, Madam? If anything, we’re both scared out of our minds, and that’s no good. I’m sure my eyes are enjoying the waterworks. I haven’t cried this much since Braxton. PetSmart will be making some money too. My whole existence has been that of failure for others to win. And should I fail Virgil, what would that make me? No different than any other day. To Win, Someone Must Fail

561 Days Without B III, Day 002 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 042 ~How To B Broke~

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I wonder how much one of my books would make? Delusions of grandeur, it seems, with the thought of millions. Hell! I’d settle for how much this week, around $670. What am I complaining about? The A/C works, and it was more to box up B. How To B Broke

Friday, August 12, 2022

Saga 042 ~How To B Broke~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if I stopped thinking about my boy, her boobs, or my balls.

Talk about titles for new books. But it wasn’t writing, my raison d’etre, that got me up this AM. As usual, it was the FEAR. And on day 558, Braxton’s not here saving me. Didn’t I write two whole books about this? I complain that I have Republican tendencies. But yes, I’m also a writer. I never edit. But I’m always moving on to the next book to write. Yet even now, as I talk to you, I have to look at the phone with dread. Reading that my “father” is on his way. As I said yesterday, I rather burn. The betrayal of my son should be cool enough, all ninth circle and all. A Dante story? Beats me being broke right now.

Or in an hour or so. Still, to my everlasting shame. I didn’t want to spend money on Braxton when he was here. Sure the dog food was a bit more, and hot dogs were hot dogs, right? What about a new water filter? I’m no doctor, but our kidneys clean us out? Oh, B’s; the shit that must have been in his system. I told him the price yesterday to figure out what was going on and what led to me putting him in a box. Yes, there was my indifference towards him those days. There was also my greediness, rage, such hatred. My Lady, I was broke in spirit and had nothing left for my son. I paid the price for his death.

This is what I cling to now after what I did yesterday. “THEY” wanted to charge me $500 for new specs, the car. Hell! What couch doesn’t cost more than $500 these days? Wow! Only I paid MILF Dos how much to see her naked? OnlyFans girls would hate me because, as Wheeler Walker Jr. puts it. “Hate the movies on the internet. I prefer the personal shit,” amen. I’ve seen my second BFF’s boobs. Then there was Cherry, or I tried. M Anime? Sophia, her B-Day is coming up. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive for shopping. So between getting fucked and hoping to, that’s around $670. So with my Day Job FUCK! How To B Broke

558 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

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I had a Christian phase. Gone are the days I “believed” in men. And yet I bend the knee to my Dad, my dirtiness, and most of all, the Day Job. It was worth it to kneel and pat my son’s head. The little god he was. Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets.”

Monday, August 8, 2022

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. And I should continue to do whatever made me those billions, right? My boy B, Boobs, Books?

Not that I ever thought to make a profit off of B. So why have I written two novels about Braxton? Two unpublished stories, I’d say. I haven’t opened the second one since I “finished” it. I hate the idea that a picture is worth “1000 Words.” Need more pictures? Only that would have cost me time, now wouldn’t it, Madam? Fifteen years wasn’t enough? Oh, there’s the expense of it all. I keep going back to the value of cash more than my son. And then I talk this big game of how I would have died for him. But how much of my life did I give to him? My personal brand of heroin, my own “Personal Jesus.” I was “Losing My Religion.”

And I don’t blame the Yabbos for once. Hell! How much money have I saved in the past two weeks? What if we only count today? The investment I made so many years ago. No, not the publishing contract; we’ll get to that. But “The Big One,” to quote GTA V. My permanent slice of TLC “Tits, Lips, and Clits.” To a company that would play god to a certain extent. I haven’t put down my cash this week. Madam, I am weak, being honest. Because I’m no saint, no prophet. I am a sinner looking to make a profit. Isn’t that what today is all about? When you make the object of your devotion lesser than yourself, you can go, “Dollar dollar bill, y’all.”

So is that why I “worship” my Day Job like something out of ancient Egypt… king of kings, god of gods? I swear I have given everything to make some prophet rich. I know it. I sacrificed my firstborn son on the altar of that fucking job. Ignorance, insanity, inevitable. I’m spending what pittance I make not on my puppy but my playthings, pleasures, penis. What about my actual work? Rule #3 “Now The Work Can Begin,” but it never does. As the godhead that I would make myself out to be, does what, Madam? Sits naked in all his glory in bed, cursing the prophets that say this is the American Dream. Believing less in Braxton, Books, “Bitches, man.” Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets”

554 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 035 ~Son Of A B-Word~

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I’ve had a few dogs, but B III was my heart dog, a soulmate, my kid. The only S.O.B. I ever loved. Because I don’t love myself. Plus, my mom is a good woman. Speaking of which, what have I been thinking of lately? “Skip Ad?” Son Of A B-Word

Friday, August 5, 2022

Saga 035 ~Son Of A B-Word~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how can that be when I keep waking up this late? Oh, this week sucked.

So, before I put my mind back into the gutter. Let’s talk about the little S.O.B. who is my son. Don’t get me wrong, Lady Sophia, that’s a fact. He is a son of a bitch; I miss every day. The fact that I had to exist in such a week as the one that took him from me. A standard 40-hour work week? Ha! If that were the case, I’d have one more reason to… careful there, right? Dangerous words. But for the record, I haven’t tried to harm myself well since January 11, 2022. And that was an accident. What do you get when you have Tifa Lockhart’s mature dress? And a hard-on for Zoe Colletti. Confessions with Inspector Echo but Lady Sophia. The Day Job schedule makes me want to cry. Then I remember B III crying that Wednesday, and I was so driven to hate then.

That’s why I still read the words; no, I write the words; Braxton Is Dead. They didn’t write that on the bill, of course. THEY have their words, and I have mine fair enough. Reading? There are so many things I don’t want to read. Thanks to YouTube, I’ve quit reading the words “Skip Ad.” That’s because I don’t want to watch anymore. What pray tell are my fingers going to do now? Well, besides becoming fists at the Day Job. I continue to white-knuckle the mattress. And I’m not one for praying anymore. Last time… a week like this.

Son of a bitch was dying, and it was all my fault because I wouldn’t listen. Now I’m done with a second book where I tried to listen. And what am I going to do with it, I ask you? Son of a bitch can’t do anything right. I shouldn’t mention my Ma like that, but I told one of the girls what I think about while I’m wasting my life. “Yo Mama?” More like “Yo Son,” if anyone dared to disrespect B III. “Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.” This son of a bitch wishes I could say Shakespeare was on the brain. But between Maiko Kaneda, Tifa Lockhart, and Cherry… I’m just thinking about blowjobs. Son Of A B-Word

551 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 031 ~Value Having A Real Choice~

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If I had a choice, my son would be alive. I could go back to sleep. After having some P.Y.T., How is it the Christians say? This is the day the Lord has made; We will rejoice and be glad in it. No, No, I Don’t Think I Will. Value Having A Real Choice

Monday, August 1, 2022

Saga 031 ~Value Having A Real Choice~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-First Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m up at 3:00 AM, or is it 4:00? American Dream at 7:00. Where is Braxton?

I didn’t choose to love him. And yet I CHOSE to love him. Does that make any sense? It’s like the very first episode of Pokémon; “Pokémon, I Choose You!” How about Power Rangers Ninja Storm? They weren’t the chosen ones. But they were all that was left, so yep. Or, as a “great” man said in Destiny 2. “You’re a bunch of dirty misfits, but you’re all that’s left, so you’ll have to do.” And didn’t I say that I wanted to be more of a grownup, a man? All that matters is I love my boy. And I don’t have any choice in the matter. As the song goes, “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You.” So, where does choice originate? Awake and Alive…

Fuck I am? Pardon my language, but I have chosen to be mad. I can say that for now, ha. Madam, I could say I’m choosing violence, but that might not go over well, considering. Anyway, so why am I angry? As always, my son is dead. And that’s too much for a Dad, Madam. I’m upset because of what I have to do now. A reason I want to write. I’m not so mad. And finally, it’s what I have been talking about daily. “Do I have a drink, or do I not have a drink?” I swear those words continue to haunt me, and you know I ain’t talking a thing about drinking. Do I masturbate, or do I not masturbate? More acceptable?

The ideas of violence over anything sexual. But more to the point is that I have a “choice” over something in this existence. Today will be day 11 if I can last, Madam. The thirst? Again what about B III? 547 days since he’s been gone, and where are my choices when it comes to him? I can’t choose what I want to buy to “honor” him. As much as I wish it were otherwise, I won’t be the man he thinks I am. Yeah, I already began failing Six Impossible Things yesterday. Hell! Everything up to this moment is no choice of mine. My puppy, people, “pen and paper.” But my wayward penis fuck! Someday, somehow, someway, may I Value Having A Real Choice.

547 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 028 ~B Leaving In Failure~

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My kid believes in me. If I was a good dad, I wouldn’t wait until the last day. But I can say I’ll have a 50,000-word book on the 31st. If I’m not busy with things. My knuckles are white and not just from pounding the keys. B Leaving In Failure.

Friday, July 29, 2022

Saga 028 ~B Leaving In Failure~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go punch out God. Am I Writing fiction or failure?

I’m still writing about Triple B and me, thank you very much. I should be done by Sunday, Lady Sophia. The thing is, I wanted to be done by today. So I suppose this counts as crying over B III this morning. The idea that I’ll be reading I’m a Camp NaNoWriMo winner on the very last day. But let’s focus on B III. Like the three chapters, I should do. Don’t forget there is also the eulogy. And yes, my lady, I just googled, “what is the difference between a eulogy and an obituary?” And I need poems for two chapters each but 50,000 words… If I didn’t know any better, I would say that sounds like an excuse. I’m talking to my son…

Ha! I can’t even talk to my friends. When I’m done with my Masochism. I’m giddy in my Sadism. Yes, everything short of my son’s passing devolves into sexual addiction. And even B liked Yabbos. I always told him the first pair he loved was the girl I’d have to marry. The first outside the family… his Aunt Carolina. Haven’t talked to her lately. Then there’s Cherry and M Anime, who he never met, and I’m thankful. Daddy’s a perv. Cherry has been suffering so much, yet you know what I’m hoping for whenever she texts. Two things. Don’t I have any empathy? Sophia, you’ve seen what I’ve started reading. When it’s not something on pet loss, it’s M Anime talking about such horrible men.

Why do you think I would read Erotica? I haven’t read anything like that since Christmas, Lady Sophia. It’s tradition. Anyway, you know how such stories fucking get me going. Pardon my language. Only I can’t tell my “other” friends. I’m much too busy to write such stories… yeah, right. Because what am I going to do today? I won’t be finishing Braxton and my novel today. I continue to white-knuckle my baser urges like that book Blackout by Erin Flanagan. “Do I have a drink, or do I not have a drink?” Fucking hard! Yep, I don’t want to tell the “man in the mirror” I’m walking around with my dick in my hands. Or that I failed with writing. B Leaving In Failure.

544 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 024 ~Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear~

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A “great” man once said, no one man should have all that power. The most I ever had was over my furry son’s life. A few screens that show me the “world.” And the idea that I can sleep when I want. Ah, power. Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear.

Monday, July 25, 2022

Saga 024 ~Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear~

Two-Hundred and Fiftieth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means, in He-Man’s words, “I Have The Power!” Rule 13, Power Is All That Matters, right?

From last week to the start of this week, it’s been all about power, energy, and some plain ole oomph. This shows why I’m up at 2:00 in the morning, but that comes later, Madam. Responsibility, or how I look at it. Adulting for the most part. I cannot stress this enough. Was I responsible when it came to the life of my son? Hell!

My Brother’s Keeper? Regarding daddies, Triple B found another one in Father Time. But that doesn’t stop me from blaming myself. Shame is how I’m feeling right this second. I was supposed to be responsible for B III’s well-being. And now, like some parent leaving their kid in the car, I’m worried about a phone. Isn’t that harsh and despicable?

Sad too that the phone, in a way, is so vital in my lousy existence. If B was here, I could try to say that I need it to look after him. Now, if anything, I’m just “Some Guy” Madam. Cherry said, “You men, you’re all the same in the end.” With the way, I feel about people (sigh). Of course, the best man I know died 540 days ago. Braxton is furry and fluffy.

On the other hand, Madam, as the song goes, “But I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo.” Oh, you know I’m way worse. I keep looking at the date and must remember why I began talking to Lady Lu again. Because of my second greatest desire, which is XXX. I’m hopeless.

Fear of both having and losing that at the touch of a button. What other function do any of these devices serve? Oh right, writing as a livelihood. What was I creating only after doing the bare minimum of words for B? The first poem I’ve written in forever, for tits. “It has that power over me,” sex, I mean. At least I have the power to say it. Such is strength. But that’s like a few weeks ago when I got it up to go to Best Buy, and they couldn’t do anything for the phone. And if that happens today? I’ve said the epitome of manhood is fatherhood. A man provides and has the power to do so. Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear

540 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 021 ~What I’ll B Reading~

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If I’m asking for input from my kid about writing, I should look to him for other things. He wasn’t much of a reader but a great foot warmer and throw pillow. I told him, as the song goes, I’m Gonna Be Somebody. Yeah, like that’s What I’ll Be Reading

Friday, July 22, 2022

Saga 021 ~What I’ll B Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford some classic books. As for right this second, money for books?

Ha-Ha! Yet one more case of laughing to keep from crying. But of course, I will crack open a new book this week. Lady Sophia, Anything beats the one I’m writing. Ok, so that’s harsh, considering Braxton is the co-author. And I have been sobbing all this week. Writing, oh what a shame. Only a lot less than the Humiliations Galore, awaiting me at the Day Job. I tell myself I’ll do anything to avoid another decade in that place. Well then, why am I talking to you at nine A.M. when I was awake at four in the morning. What got it up, Sophia. Inevitably it’s a woman. Yet it’s not in the way you think. When I’m not reading, I’m watching Twitter, sigh.

“Emmanuel, Don’t Do It!” I’m sure you’ve heard, seen, and read those words all over. Would you like to know how funny Taylor and her emu are? Or should I talk about my jealousy? I’m glad I don’t often come back to reread my work. Oh, and to edit. God! No wonder I don’t have anything out yet, and I’m even struggling to write anything. So why do I write at all? In a minute, I’m going to sound like Cherry. Thoughts that I don’t need… anything about Yabbos because I’m starting over again. Fapping, day one. And like I said, I’m getting a new book today after the last one on addiction. Well, it was kind of. I could start reading a new genre.

But you know I want to read more on pet loss. Reading that B III is gone every day still doesn’t make sense to me. How about putting his cremation certificate in a frame. Along with all the bills and the receipts from that weekend? One frame’s on the bookshelf. However, Braxton’s pictures and my work schedule stay on the phone. Of course, that reminds me of one more thing I don’t want to read. A bill to get it fixed or them saying that they can’t. I can’t write, but I’m going to anyway, even if I drown in my tears. With the fact my writing is terrible. And sweating, trying not to look at tatas. I’m sure failure is What I’ll B Reading.

537 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will