Tag: Happy Birthday

Tale 227 ~Tomorrow Will B V-Day~

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I’m 39, which I hate. But I would’ve loved it if my son saw 19. Happy Birthday, Braxton. But there are so many days that involve people, sigh. And tomorrow is all about love, which has come and gone for me. And what about 2V. “Tomorrow Will B V-Day.”

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

Tale 227 ~Tomorrow Will B V-Day~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… You have my forever. But, uh oh. Guess what day it is. Happy Birthday, Braxton!

I know you’re asking yourself how many days belong to my son—counting 1108 now. And how long have we been together? That’s a dangerous question for a married man to ask. There are a lot of those going on three years. And still, my heart grows, my love, daily.

That should be more than enough reason to get out of bed each morning. Because I love you, our children… I’m still working on me. And I can’t promise you I’ll get there, my love. I’ve hated myself longer than I had my son. Have I mentioned I hate thirty-nine?

And there’s so much left to do, love. I could do my John Mayer impression. “One thing I’ve left to do. Discover me, discovering you.”

But you have your day. Hell! You have a lot of them. You probably rival my little furry son’s love. Only, can you let today be his? Am I asking you? Hmm. Or am I trying to be some alpha male, better known as an asshole? But no. I’m only a grieving Dad, missing my little boy every single day.

I don’t even take today off. I spend two days crying. But on the day my son came to be. And here’s something to bake your noodle. Sunday, February 13, 2005, is the day I chose for him. I never got an answer on Braxton’s birthday, but it was sometime in April. That’s when I met my firstborn son. And every day after… our tomorrow, always, forever… Valentine? Braxton was/is a saint, amongst other things.

And, I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved. I know you still do. As I you, my love. Hell! Even the playlist I’m making, John Mayer, Lewis Capaldi, Muse, and I can go on. I told Braxton I would find him a mom someday. And now Virgil is here. And I didn’t know what day I would find him. Or the day I would see you, love. But I keep telling everyone I’m here. But that’s a lie because I’m seeking my little B III today. Always.

It’s like something from The Big Bang Theory, “Emily or Cinnamon,” ha-ha. Words of love for my firstborn, for you, and so many. Even Virgil and myself? Today, Let It Be. Tomorrow Will B V-Day

1108 Days Without B III, Day 549 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 307 ~Virgil’s Sitting Where B~

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“Come on in, (girl), sit on down, and tell me ’bout yourself. So, you like my (Daddy), do you now? I think (he’s) something else.” B barking Rodney Atkins. To think my loveseat wasn’t a casting couch, but I found love once. “Virgil’s Sitting Where B”

Thursday, May 4, 2023

Saga 307 ~Virgil’s Sitting Where B~

823 Days Without B III, Day 264 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If you find the time, could you and your Aunt Carolina’s kids say Happy Birthday?

I still feel so gross B. There’s the belief… Hell! Damn, near a fact that I’m sick. The things I do when you ain’t around. And to think I warned you about, um, some things. Manly huh? Braxton Barks, it could be that I’m acknowledging you being in “Heaven” or on The Rainbow Bridge. Never! It’s Sunday, April 30, 2023, and I called out “Medicine Time.” And, yeah, there’s the idea, if you are gone, that you met your Aunt’s kids in Heaven. Today as in, May being her birthday and all. How about Star Wars Day? Your Aunt’s pissed… But me being the selfish bastard I am… Like most days, I wish I was a ghost… to join you. Remember sitting on the loveseat?

B, you’re watching over me, worrying, waiting; for what I don’t know. Live, Laugh, Love? Please! That is a book I’m never reading. And the books that I got in my own time, B III. Time? Again there was Medicine Time, Outside, Sleepy, and many others I know. The one that gets to me the most is Dying Time… I was sitting on an orange bench as the vet told me she could do nothing. Then there I was on another one watching you die. You got to lie in your bed, at least. Is there any wonder I want to stay in bed always? Well, besides being sick, of course. And then there’s 2V, B. Writing this afternoon, from where? The Dining Room. Shocker!

Because the bed is a sad place, even when there’s a woman there now. Ha-Ha! It wasn’t many of those when you were here. And after? Your Daddy is a sick man. A bad one… And I keep saying it. Having V lying on my leg or sitting at your guard post, B III. No! Why not go back to the loveseat, you say? You know I am never happy but to get so close. It was lying with you. I would read, and you would sleep, and that was us, you and me, B. There was watching movies with your Aunt. Remember when you finally let her in, B? The power of boobs. A few books, free Meditation, the Freeloader. Virgil’s Sitting Where B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 227 ~People Don’t Die Properly “Anymore” ~

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I’ve read that a coward dies many deaths, but the brave die once. So, I’m still here, and Braxton isn’t. Today he would be eighteen. I don’t want to think back to when I was that age. I met B in my twenties. “People Don’t Die Properly “Anymore.”

Monday, February 13, 2023

Saga 227 ~People Don’t Die Properly “Anymore” ~

Two-Hundred and Seventy-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means I will live forever. So why couldn’t I do that for Braxton? He’s eighteen today.

Why? Because I’m still alive. More like I still exist. Writing to you today of all days. Well, two days, today and Monday. I feel like Chris talking to Annie in What Dreams May Come. Sort of. I’m making you aware I exist so I can say what needs to be said. Which is this.

Happy Birthday, Braxton! Welcome to level eighteen B III! Too many more, B, my son. Now you know that Braxton died when he was fifteen. Thirteen days shy of sixteen. Madam, even now I know, not feel, these are facts. I should have followed Braxton. Everyone would say that’s not proper. Hell! Going to my granddaddy’s funeral smelling like a corpse isn’t, either. How about going to work today, Madam?

That’s one of many reasons that I’m not dead yet. Well, more like undead. A zombie, infected, an unperson? I was looking at my body Sunday… Madam, allow unselfishness to shine. My work is to do what Braxton and I always wanted. Was it more me than him? That’s fair? Anyway, we were supposed to be like Dennis and Domino Hof. I told M Anime. But it was Braxton’s Aunt Carolina. She let B run all over her body. Proper? Awesome? Maybe not, and yes. B loved her after that. As far as other people in B III’s Universe, hmm? As the song goes, “Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked.” So I won’t be joining B III anytime soon. I’m a bad man.

But I raised a good one when it comes to my son. My one saving grace. Yet, uh, the “special Hell?” The Ninth Circle of Hell. Treachery, Betrayal, of the one that loves me most? Madam, I looked in the mirror into cameras and a gallery I made. Emaciated. Madam, that’s the word that came to mind. Look at me ruining B’s birthday. I don’t even have the money to go and get some fries for him and myself. Well, I do, but I won’t. People. Being someone that’s… fucked, I don’t know. Only I’m still here, and Braxton isn’t. Madam, only the good die young. I want to be like the worst ones. To protect Braxton. He protects me? People Don’t Die Properly “Anymore”

743 Days Without B III, Day 184 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 111 ~Won’t B Long Virgil~

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Happy Birthday, Virgil!!! I haven’t said that out loud. I have to remember to say his name a few times a day. He was “Archie” for a year and 9 months. Hasn’t been Virgil for 3 months. And how long has it been since picking up B … Won’t B Long Virgil.

Thursday, October 20, 2022

Saga 111 ~Won’t B Long Virgil~

627 Days Without B III, Day 068 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I suppose I should ask Virgil that; it is his birthday, after all. He’s 2.

You remember Braxton how I would rail about politics. Hell! I should go watch porn. Braxton, I gave you a real time-out when I killed you 627 days ago. That isn’t even remotely funny, I know. Do you wish I would stop saying that? No politics or porn, but Petsmart? Mark this day in your calendar, well, yesterday, anyway. I went to Petsmart to the back. Banfield Hospital, and set up Virgil Vivi’s first appointment since he’s been here. Not today. Braxton, V’s first appointment will be next week. In the middle of another horrible one. If I had done that for you, you might still be alive. I’m trying B, honest. I was almost in tears yesterday. And not one has been shed today.

Give it time. Virgil doesn’t know about the appointment, age, or the aches and pains of this life. Who am I to say that? Besides being a lazy ass when coming to talk to you, I was also doing some research. What? I’m not for the GOP. Now you B, on the other hand, Build the Wall; well, at least the fence around the yard. And you hated everybody, my little misanthrope. Like father, like son, but I hope you made time yesterday to say hi to your aunt. Better yet, scratch that. Her anniversary and all. I’d say you killed my sex life, but we both know that ain’t true. I was busy trying to diddle the maid. I can’t talk to her either.

Now, what was I saying? Oh yeah, research. There was a time I believe that Virgil was born in February. Giving credence to your reincarnation. But again, V’s paperwork today. I want to say he’s 14 in human years, but from what I read today, he’s closer to 24. What am I to do with that, you know? But you know what makes me a horrible person, B III? It’s the fact that I WAS thinking V was closer to death. Don’t get me wrong, Triple B, I’m not a… what, murderer? No harm will come to him, but I don’t love him. With you, it was love you B, love you, Braxton. With Virgil, it’s LATER; his appointment, his birthday, and having his own things. Won’t B Long Virgil.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 307 ~To The B Loved~

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Dearly Beloved… it won’t be many of those when I get married. For the longest time, I thought that Braxton would be there, my Best Man. I guess I’m going to need a new vetting process because I’ve been turning my back on EVERYONE. To The B Loved

Tuesday, May 4, 2021

Gospel 307 ~To The B Loved~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and someone said love or rather passion is like money. There’s a time to save it up, a time to spend.

So where is my love? An excellent way to describe it is this, and yes, it’s an explanation that I borrowed and/or stole, yep. My love is like having $19.00 in the bank. You know it’s there, it’s yours, but you can’t go to any ATM and punch in $19.00. And walking into a bank… Please stop me, Baby Girl, before I burst into Saving All My Love For You or I Will Always Love You. You never need to doubt my love, but now it’s just so damn hard to reach right this minute. First, it was my sadness about Braxton, and these days it’s this rage against so many idiots. I wish I could turn my back on the lot of them as I turned on our family?

Never ever, Baby Doll, it’s just, well, take today for an example. You know I’m a Star Wars fan, but I’m not one of these fans starting a fight about it. I can’t watch every movie today because of Stupid people. Only Star Wars is my heart (what’s left of it). God, I miss B. Today of all days, I don’t mean to hurt my friend Indiana Gone. Happy Birthday!!! The thing is this, much as I like her, if you pitted her against my little boy, she wouldn’t stand a chance. Braxton is my firstborn. Braxton’s my longest relationship ever, father to son. There is nothing that can ever make me turn my back on him. Nothing will make me betray us, my love.

It’s just, and I’ll never understand why. But in the words of Stephen King: “God is cruel. Sometimes he makes you live.” The hatred of people, my hate of those people, took my Braxton from me. My love, you show me that all people need not be hated and feared. Braxton and I met in my twenties. And he showed me that no matter what assholes like the ASM, the gemstone bitch, or the spectator do. There is love within me— that love I give to you that made our children. I have to find it without Braxton. Good Luck.

Well, I have you, always and forever, right? I ask you not to question me, and yet I doubt you. Trying To The B Loved

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 072 ~Writing Will Be Selfish~

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I get accused of being prideful all the time but never selfish. Everyone knows what I spend money on, and I didn’t even go out for breakfast, but that was because of something else in my pants. “Writing Will Be Selfish,” and I should learn to shut up

Friday, September 11, 2020

Gospel 072 ~Writing Will Be Selfish~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’m still learning all the rules. Leave it to Monday being “Existence Day,” that I didn’t cover one. I did look up such and such instructions. On fixing the lawn trimmer, an email from Pinterest, and verification from… a secret. I should also mention Lady Sophia besides my “projects,” the little I’ve said of my sister’s birthday. It came right after Existence Day. I’ve missed saying Happy Birthday a few times and Congratulations. Here’s something; today is one more year down from the 9/11 attacks.

Writing or more to the point, my writing is quite a selfish undertaking. Now you ask me how I can say that? For example, don’t I share our chats with the world? Well, maybe not as much as Dirty Diana’s, but I want people to read. Words are weapons, Sophia. Taking a look at Twitter, didn’t I put myself to the hazard. Hell, it was DoubleMarshmallow @EroMaximus that was naked. Still, I said I wanted to see, so doesn’t that make me… Yep better not to voice some things, speak goodness so ok then yeah. Now I’m always sharing those Tony Baker and John Hunt videos with friends. For a moment, I was about to add, isn’t that innocent? They’re currently less Disney channel and more “So let’s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel” like the song.

In truth Lady Sophia, I wish I could be more selfish. Now ask me why My Dæmon is scratching at the door. Writing hurts both of us in time. Ok, I have been out cold after cutting the grass and why’s that. My “Father” and all his words, so I know such raw power hm. I look to Pinterest, I think about Milfs Dos and Tres, Cherry as well. No woman appreciates being written about in such a manner. It’s far better than acting as a panty dropper for other men. And pornorific cornucopia, which is some of my journals. Entertaining as my stories are to me, I know that they won’t be published. I swear this morning, wasn’t I listening to all my motivations? Lady Sophia, I even came up with a new plan. I doubt Skye Warren or S. Wolf stoop so low.

Speaking of S. Wolf AHEM “Sex Zombies,” which is how I’ve been feeling and sleeping more. Writing Will Be Selfish.

I Will Have No Fear