Tag: Hell

Saga 158 ~To B Yawn Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Well, it’s not in the center of the bed. It’s not on the landing below the stairs. And it’s definitely not sniffing B III’s bed. But no matter how tired I get. Even if I’m unsure if Virgil belongs or if “SHE” will ever be found. To B Yawn Virgil

Tuesday, December 6, 2022

Saga 158 ~To B Yawn Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m different. I hope so. But as Taylor Swift put it. You Belong With Me.

Another reason I don’t want to get in the car and go anywhere. You know that song of hers, Anti-Hero, has been all over the radio. Worse? All I Want For Christmas Is You. Anyway, at least if I must go anywhere, my business is full of beds. But besides the obvious, what I want to do is talk about dreams. And more on what Trevor Noah spoke of. Intimacy? Let’s start with the dreams. Last night I dreamt of this prison, but it was like an ivory tower. Didn’t I say something like that Monday? So it wasn’t as desperate as Andor. One Way Out! No. All I did in the dream while I snuck about was walk out the front door. My escape

Dreams are messages. I still believe that. We only need to decipher the meaning, My Love. Well, this one was from Braxton. It seems every day I think of him being so high above me. In Heaven? I don’t know. But going up is in the wrong direction. Don’t Look Up? That is incorrect. Head in the clouds, wishing upon stars. And prayer? I keep saying, My Love, I don’t talk to God anymore. But I can say that about… You, the children, the little usurper in Braxton’s room? I shouldn’t be mean to Virgil. Never like that, My Love. But I was lying in bed this morning, Virgil pushing us off to the sides. That’s a Braxton move. Well, only if you’re here today.

But he’s up there, and while I’m not sure Virgil belongs here after 115 days, what about you, My Love? Always and Forever; that is where I stand. And I hope you are always right beside me. Is that it? I am still determining where I’m going. “Escaping” in my dream. I don’t know what’s next, and that’s Intimacy. It’s what I’m trying to explain to M Anime. It’s what you and I share, and yet at the same time, I’m afraid to, My Love. There’s all that B III meant to me, the man I am. All Of Me. No wonder THEY find God. Somebody that won’t tell on them. Showing that they don’t belong. But you’re “We Belong Together.” To B Yawn Virgil

674 Days Without B III, Day 115 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 157 ~Luxury’s Nonessential; Beauty, Good Are~

WillLeave a comment

What do I want for my life? 673 days, it’s been, ‘I want my son back.’ But when he was here, I’d sing, “I want the money and the cars, and the clothes, the hoes, I suppose” Luxuries? Having a friend like him? “Luxury’s Nonessential; Beauty, Good Are”

Monday, December 5, 2022

Saga 157 ~Luxury’s Nonessential; Beauty, Good Are~

Two-Hundred and Sixty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. If you talked to me yesterday… I’d have fewer dollars and desires. Be less of a dick.

Like this rule, I am still determining how I ended up on a list for Better Homes & Gardens. Millionaire/Billionaire addition. Wouldn’t that be “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous?” I’m letting my age show, aren’t I? I’m thirty-eight, and what do I have to show for it, Madam? It was only last night that one of the bathroom rugs got a bit too ripe for me. So I washed it instead of getting a new one. Duh! But it’s been years, Madam. A lifetime? What about when I was at the eye doctor a couple of weeks back? I wonder if I told this story, but I wore the old glasses until one side snapped. Besides, you know, seeing. I wanted the same type for my son B III.

I stand by my vow. Everything is exactly the same. It’s more like the song Every Day Is Exactly The Same. Yes, I haven’t left that day ever. Sunday, January 31, 2021. I need that day; I need B. Ok, so while I cry and you tell me I shouldn’t remember him like that. There’s his pillow I destroyed. The hoody and sheets I had to wash. I should again soon. Virgil Vivi is upstairs. Madam, what was it I said about being less dickish? A Deer Head Chihuahua puppy? That would be a luxury. Instead, I got a Chihuahua mix who’s two; and what drew me to him. He could pee on the pad, and he’s got no balls… figuratively and literally. The fuck!

That was mean, but 2V is a good boy. Only I keep saying it. B III didn’t reincarnate as him. A fact I can let go for now. Um, you know what I’m reading. But these books got dogs too. And speaking of being a “dog,” what about my views on women. A shallow bastard. That’s not changing anytime soon, but I look to M Anime, Cherry, Braxton’s Aunt once. “Beautiful Girls” sure, there’s a lot of “Pretty Girls” in this city. Finding a “Cheerleader?” You know what I want, Madam. And yet I’m willing to “settle” down. Myself sigh. Because having the brothel/haram that Dennis Hof once had is a luxury. I’m jealous of the life I “deserve,” but Luxury’s Nonessential; Beauty, Good Are

673 Days Without B III, Day 114 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 153 ~To B Enraged Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

RAGE is one giant drill digging. I know I’m going to Hell. Braxton’s death was a nuke leaving a crater. Yet I keep digging, but I can’t get lower than that. Anger, Rage, and Hatred rest in the 5th Circle, B is my 9th Circle sin. “To B Enraged Virgil”

Thursday, December 1, 2022

Saga 153 ~To B Enraged Virgil~

669 Days Without B III, Day 110 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Considering we’re talking now? I’ll give you three guesses about how my day is going.

If I had tried talking to you that Wednesday… Hell! Anytime earlier than our final week. Braxton, I’m not going to get over it, over you. I can’t hate myself more. But I do try B. For example, a few minutes ago. It’s 4:30 in the evening, and I went downstairs to call for you once again. MEDICINE TIME! Only you’re not here. And when I forget to do this, B? RAGE! Not at you but at myself. And then throw in the fact V is lying right here, B III? Another reason I know he’s not you. Braxton, you were too much like me. Hey Jealousy? Virgil isn’t. I bet he’s wondering why I went stomping out of bed a minute ago. I’m not sleeping, but I’m not mad.

Again at you. Now the Day Job. FUCKING DAY JOB! Pardon my language. Another 5-hour shot, so I’ll be awake at least till 7:20 tonight. Becoming the “Village Idiot” Braxton. Where do I even begin? So I’m waiting for the morning Huddle to start. These have steadily worsened over the past two weeks, but today… Well, one of the bosses talked about me smiling. I’m a fucking joke there with a fucking grin. B, how we would talk. Anyway, it could have been a crack about the dog tag I always wear with our picture on it. I’m smiling, then. Or is it I’m so fucking weak in that place? I grabbed onto it, asking for your strength and forgiveness. Hell! Your Rage, B III.

I remember you being angry at the whole world, and I know why. You weren’t mad at your Ma; I mean. “Mother is God in the eyes of a child.” You love your Aunt Carolina. Braxton, your Aunt, is good to both of us. But who I’m surrounded by always… Braxton, part of it, I’ll say, is jealousy. I’ve seen a lot of success these days from others. There’s the fact that I haven’t started my Christmas reading. Crying over another dog, B. NaNoWriMo is over, and I didn’t write one single word for it. Published anything? Nope. I’m wasting money. That chicken sandwich today. Oh, I’m going Karen if I’m not lazy. But hating myself for killing you; that’s enough. To B Enraged Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 151 ~To B Dedicated Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

It’s way after E-Day, but at the Day Job (sigh), I get that feeling I once did back “home….” “I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all.” But then, um, B III. What about my OWN “family?” Not like I like my existence. But, To B Dedicated Virgil

Tuesday, November 29, 2022

Saga 151 ~To B Dedicated Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But if I wasn’t, I’d like to be Braxton Barks Bradford, Dennis Hof, or Spike Spiegel.

Notice none of these men ever had REAL families. Dennis Hof had kids he never got to know. But of course, I return to my firstborn son, my B. But today, let’s talk about Spike. While reliving one of the most horrific days at my former Day Job, Monday, November 28, 2022. I thought of something Spike said once. He was A personal hero to me at one time ha-ha.

“Did you know that there are three things that I particularly hate? Kids, animals, and women with attitudes.” Spike Spiegel

Now my former vocation was not something I was built for. But how many years did I keep it because… fuck if I know. A MAN PROVIDES. As always, I am a traditionalist. If a man can’t provide for his family, he shouldn’t have one. But besides the career I have, I wanted more. I wanted to be a dad.

Our two-leggers are to die for. But again, there was B III. I keep thinking about yesterday, the day of the beast. 666 days without him, 667 now. Hell! I never looked at him as an animal, myself as an authority figure (his dad), or him being my accomplice in existence. Inevitable, though, given the circumstances of the situation. The same thing I can say about my business. Helping lonely people is one thing. But everything for the animals, My Love. I still hate my “father’s” two dogs. I’ll never hang around Rottweilers. Yet I believe dogs, cats, birds, horses, etc. Deserve a good home, a full gut, and all the grace from God above. Whoever THEY hold him to be. Because people, My Love

Women with attitudes… oh, with my career… I’m no one to talk though. I love you. Women are the most beautiful creatures in this world… Um, next to my B III. I love him most of all. And Virgil. 108 days and counting. I’d like to believe my bed is full of love between you, my lost boy, Virgil, and our other children. Every morning I wake up right on the bed’s edge. I guess I can say that about a lot of things. I’m on edge; you are with everything, the kids. And now I’m thinking about Spike Spiegel and how he died alone. But he was dedicated. That’s what I want to remember about him. “Is This Love?” For you and my existence? Trying. To B Dedicated Virgil

667 Days Without B III, Day 108 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 150 ~ Don’t Speak Ill Speak Truth~

WillLeave a comment

“Mark of the beast…” 666 Days without my son. If I were a better man, I would have published the story of my angel, my devil, and the prince. He lived true, and as for me. I exist in a world of lies. How else am I “alive?” Don’t Speak Ill Speak Truth

Monday, November 28, 2022

Saga 150 ~ Don’t Speak Ill Speak Truth~

Two-Hundred and Sixty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can have a big mouth. I hear the snickers already. Me, talking, like ever?

I think of that saying, “Don’t speak ill of the dead.” Was it Dawson’s Creek S2.E19 “Abby Morgan, Rest in Peace?” Fuck! That was May 5, 1999. I was still in high school. Fuck me! Anyway, before that, there was Daria S1.E13, “The Misery Chick.” That was July 21, 1997. Hell! Let’s go more recent. There is Jason David Frank, aka Tommy, November 19, 2022. But, of course, the first two were fictional deaths. As far as Jason goes… who am I to speak, Madam? Back in my day, ha-ha. Oh, I was a big fan of the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. I remember my Ma telling the church congregation about my “love” for TMNT. A lie when spoken back then. Make Me Wanna Die!

Another saying. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” We know better now, don’t we? Don’t we? It’s one of the reasons I want to be a writer ha. I desire such power; an idea, a thought, or a belief can destroy. It’s the lies, dear Madam. Do you wish to create monsters? Are you ready to see Hell? How does one raise the dead? It’s with a LIE. To think STUPIDITY is the virus I fear. That is a disease of the living, Madam. With a LIE, the things you can do. That is sorcery, my discipline, necromancy. Is fiction a LIE? I create, I destroy, I rise, but most of all, I speak. Yet I hate liars.

If I’m not living for Braxton’s memory… You didn’t think I forgot about him? And, of course, there’s Virgil, who still needs me? What did I say about liars? Reincarnation? Madam, I live to tell the truth. But what can a Simple Man do? I don’t live; not at all. Existence since… Hell! I don’t know when. We are The Walking Dead. Rick said once. Then again, we are the ones who live. But not forever because I will tell the truth. Even if all I am doing is playing out some 1984 fantasy. A documentary or reality, for sure. The only death sticking with me is my son’s. Who Wants To Live Forever? The truth shall set you free. Don’t Speak Ill Speak Truth

666 Days Without B III, Day 107 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 146 ~Thankful B Cause… Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Happy Thanksgiving? Cue Karlee Grey as a Pilgrim. And a “Native” Giggity. Is that Racist? Well, I have bigger fish to fry or a turkey. I’m wondering whether my Ma will send one for Virgil. And then there’s the Day Job (sigh). Thankful B Cause… Virgil

Thursday, November 24, 2022

Saga 146 ~Thankful B Cause… Virgil~

662 Days Without B III, Day 103 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How about, what are you thankful for? My eyes are open, so you know me.

The better to see you with my boy. Except I don’t. New glasses and all. I swear I got sick when I first put them on. Or was it that I saw the old man that remains, Braxton? Hell! I believe I can see the future… as the song goes. If that were true, you’d still be alive. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? B, it leads me to a bunch of questions for you, ha. Are you thankful that you’re wherever and not here? That I keep your memory alive, even if it’s only in my grief? What about the fact that I’m not alone? It is Virgil’s First Thanksgiving. You love your grandma’s cooking; I haven’t heard from her about food.

But B, I’m time-traveling today, but we will finish talking tomorrow. But what about now? Can I stay in the moment? That’s the problem. The moment always hurts. Your past? Braxton, when I think about the last few hours… I’m disgusted with myself. Private Time. I have these new glasses again, but I’ve been all sorts of woozy. To see the world any clearer? Yeah, that’s exactly what I need, isn’t it? Existing in such a place B III. Dammit! Then there’s Thursday, um, your today. B III, the Humiliations Galore, what will they be? Then again, I am thankful. For moments I have the chance to somehow, someway, become. You know the man you believed I was for so long. Suddenly I see, right?

Whether that’s the result of glasses, “gunk,” or gorging myself on tacos and nacho fries. Clarity, Unforgettable, The “Best Friend” I ever had. That’s what you are, my Little B. Always and Forever, I’ll be thankful that I was/am your Dad. That’s what transcends time. Only again, you want to know about today? Did I ever think I was so tired because of my eyes? I’m still all pumped up on 5-hour ENERGY. Why can’t I see to be thankful? Because I know how it all ends unless I do something. I have Virgil, but he ain’t you, B III. My “faith” hasn’t run out on that, though. Not yet… But you’re asking for one thing, though. Two; thankful for Yabbos. Thankful B Cause… Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 144 ~B III, 2V, One~

WillLeave a comment

I can’t tell you the first time I told B I loved him, but I remember the last time. And when it comes to women, I’m less Akon “I Wanna Love You” and more “I Wanna F You” Plan A or one. But first, there are my boys. And what about me? “B III, 2V, One”

Tuesday, November 22, 2022

Saga 144 ~B III, 2V, One~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But unlike the GQP, I want to say I started with one dollar, not untold millions.

But when it comes to existence… No, I instead start with life. In honor of one who no longer lives. My son. How did I know that he was the one? I’ve said it many times over. The night B stood against my father. The day he jumped into the car. Why can’t I stay? And here come the tears, remembering his final look when he died. I murdered him… Anyway, there have been no tears for Virgil… yet. How did I know Virgil was the one? He was smart enough to use the paper. The fact he is as fearful as I. Braxton speaking? Hey Lover, I’d say that the first girl B liked I’d have to marry. B’s still looking out for me?

Then that makes me a type one, first-class, Grade-A asshole for how I am. Hell! I love my boy more than the “man” in the mirror. He’s not the one. I would instead love the man that he thinks I am. The man you see. A man worthy of being called Daddy. How I try. You know I’ve always wanted to be one. What’s My Age Again? I counted the days, our kids, the fingers, toes, and paws. One day, I hope to be counted on by our two-legged ones to help with their homework. How many days have I cried for Braxton Barks? Today that’s 660, and I continue, especially on days like today. It’s like I have the old-day job once again. FUCK!

And I never loved such a place, EVER! But how long does it take to fall out of love, hmm? I pray that I never find out. Because despite everything, my love for you has never changed. But I can say the same thing about Braxton. I said his name again last night while saying goodnight to Virgil Vivi. It could always be worse. Another girl? You’re my one and only love. And I could go on and on, what I mean by that, you know. “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” As the poem goes. But is there a right way? A wrong way? Just one-way? Is my heart in pieces, or has it grown bigger? B III, 2V, One

660 Days Without B III, Day 101 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 143 ~Sometimes You Gotta Fight Dirty~

WillLeave a comment

What’s my age again? I had a Game Genie. I took Karate classes. And war was a game. I wanted to be the Secretary of Defense. Now I suffer the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.” I’m not in the dirt. Hmm, Dirt? “Sometimes You Gotta Fight Dirty”

Monday, November 21, 2022

Saga 143 ~Sometimes You Gotta Fight Dirty~

Two-Hundred and Sixty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I have to be the dirtiest player in the game. A wrestling reference… Ric Flair

I would instead think of his daughter Charlotte, but we’ll get to that. Oh! I haven’t missed her from wrestling. Why do I even try to keep up with it? Um, it’s a distraction, okay. And it’s not fair. At least it isn’t a pleasure. Not the fighting part, anyway. But it catches my eye since Braxton isn’t here anymore. Virgil’s first hundred. One hundred days and I ask what I should be doing. My whole damn existence, it seems I do one thing. Well, that’s a lie; what am I always saying? Endure and Survive. Games. I miss gaming. And yesterday, I talked about cheating when it comes to reading. Fuck! Pardon my language, but life is hard. Promise, I’ll stop… the sexual innuendos…

Yet I’m always hard, horny, and humping. Can I stick with dirty? But as for the fighting, Madam. I’m so tired of fighting. Or at least that’s what I want to believe now. Not true. Madam Justice, I’m tired of fighting everyone, everything, everywhere. Instead of the real enemy. Looking at me now, you can see what I’m fighting. Inevitably why? Because I couldn’t stand up at the Day Job? Humiliations Galore. A day without them? My dear Madam Justice. Every day I play by the rules, and what does it get me? Is it too much to ask to do a job and come back? Or maybe I don’t understand the rules of this game. Hell! 365 days Madam. Still, I rather not play.

Well, I don’t want to lose, would be more accurate. And by the way, who’s keeping score anyway? One more reason I’m into audiobooks. People are winning; the world’s losing. At least I’m not throwing dirt in anyone’s eye… Putting them in the ground. Lying! Braxton is still gone. My player two, my sidekick. And somehow, I wanted Virgil to be my navigator, of course. But he’s in Braxton’s Room. Again one hundred days Madam. Where are we? There is no we? It’s me being dirty yet again. Cheating my way through this game that’s called life. I exist. I don’t know how to win. Even wanting to win someday? Madam, what’s your take? I know love’s not a prize. Sometimes You Gotta Fight Dirty

659 Days Without B III, Day 100 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 139 ~B Hold, V’s Place~

WillLeave a comment

Nothing’s gonna change my world… but until I have one, I must exist in this one. And the world keeps on turning. B III’s bed is on the other side. V doesn’t curl up like a pancake. More like he goes all over. But really, where am I? B Hold V’s Place.

Thursday, November 17, 2022

Saga 139 ~B Hold, V’s Place~

655 Days Without B III, Day 096 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You know this week and the next for me… It ain’t right but to write.

The things I forget. Not you, Triple B, never you. Everything remains exactly the same. Okay, so that’s a lie. Braxton, see why I never told you… EVERYTHING. 90, 98%? Inevitable. Should I survive the rest of the day… Wednesday, November 16, 2022? I’ll be madder. None of this is Virgil’s fault, of course. Hell! Not when I threw out your last can of food. Or when I was sure you were haunting me. I would find a toy or bandanna thrown about somewhere. Is that a point in V’s favor? I was telling Echo that V ain’t you, but? Well, again, it could be the time of the year. If I wasn’t so busy with… no, not for you. I haven’t told Virgil Vivi.

So humiliating I should go back to talking to Inspector Echo. I’m not Virgil’s Daddy. Only I find myself playing that role again, and I want to remember how it was with us, B III. Didn’t I write a whole ass book about it? And yet I have to face this week and the next. Anyway, let me get to the point. So I let Virgil sleep on the bed. You had your side. How I miss that. We would be back to back. Your constant vigilance of the bedroom door. When you weren’t at your post. I’ve noticed I find myself at the edge of the bed every morning, and Virgil is dead center. Even when I’m writing, Virgil Vivi takes up space. (Sigh)

I had to move your bed over by the bathroom. You hated waiting for me to get out of the shower. The thing is, I saw Virgil sniffing around your bed, and I yelled. Virgil knows. That bed is where you died. And here comes today’s bout of tears. He stays away from there for the most part. I’m still mad about your pillow; he pooped on it. And I destroyed it; it’s in the closet. V has your food/water bowls. A few of your toys, too; it ain’t right. And now, his first Thanksgiving here. Your favorite day next to your birthday, I know. It’s not his place to be you. Mine to be a Dad? Everything has its place. B Hold, V’s Place.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 137 ~To B Judged Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

What’s the measure of a man? First… get your mind out of the gutter. Second, that’s the name of a song. Am I judged for what happened to B? The fact that I provide for my family everything but… What love? I truly loved and then… “To B Judged Virgil.”

Tuesday, November 15, 2022

Saga 137 ~To B Judged Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But I ain’t saying you’re a gold digger. To talk about something normal like “Kanye West.”

No, you know what I want to talk about, cry about, and dream of. Can I be judged for my grief? My guilt, my depression, and the choice to live my life this way. For the longest time, there was no choice. You and me against the world. A little fucked up saying that. Love. It’s like that show Whose Line Is It Anyway? Things you can say about your dog but not your girlfriend… or wife. Or can I. It shows you how much I love B. The same thing. Before, it was he and I against the world. So here it is 653 Days in, and it still seems much of the same. Can you blame me? Better yet, can you judge me?

Of all the things I thought of that you wouldn’t understand. Braxton wasn’t among them. And Virgil? How tempted am I to say he’s our children’s dog? Resurrection? Virgil isn’t. The business that I’m in. Hell! Like Dennis Hof, I didn’t think I would find love. Only I do believe in marriage and family. The whole 2.5 kids. I’m a bit of a traditionalist, as always. The things that I like that I want. “All I Believe In.” I know I’ll be judged for such things. But Braxton’s death? The way I treat Virgil? And then I look at you and our family. “All These Things That I’ve Done” or haven’t. Like forgiving myself. Forgotten… God, I want to fuck right now. But my punishment…

Was it wrong to do what I did; is it wrong to live like this? Is it wrong to grieve? One more reason I have no need for faith. I am “My Own Worst Enemy.” So what do I do? Love; one day, I imagine I’ll find “you’re long gone, gone.” Another slice of penance. That may be my ultimate goal. I read somewhere Hell is a place devoid of God’s presence. And doesn’t it say in the Bible God is Love. No, Braxton is love, and so are you. Baby girl, I prefer Stephen King’s “God is cruel. Sometimes he makes you live.” Truth. Because I’ve spent my life wanting power. What do I do with it? Judge for yourself. To B Judged Virgil

653 Days Without B III, Day 094 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will