Tag: Hell

Tale 257 ~Willie B Shopping, Virgil~

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What did it cost you? Everything. Holding back anger and being indifferent to the needs of my boy. As I was trying to make pennies for us. When B was trying to tell me. Dog is trying to tell me something. We need stuff! No! Willie B Shopping, Virgil

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Tale 257 ~Willie B Shopping, Virgil~

1138 Days Without B III, Day 579 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I made it to the Dining Room table. But to you, that was everywhere, right?

And speaking of anywhere and everywhere, I should be in your room/library as if I needed another book. They aren’t helping me. But I did finish another on Pet Loss.

Braxton, I may have it wrong. You were a pet until the day I yelled, “B, get in the car!” After that, you were many things—a fur baby of many hats. But not really. If it wasn’t your collar, you weren’t wearing it. Well, there were a few bandannas from PetSmart. Ha-Ha! You were getting too old to fight off the groomers or take any of the vet’s fingers…

Happy Memories! And you know I’m never happy, Braxton. But as long as you were… Are wherever you are right now. I wish I knew.

On the nightstand? I’ve been thinking a lot about getting something different. A new box, urn, or some sort of vessel. I’ve never been angry at you for leaving me. I would have given everything to save you. “Am I Wrong?” Am I lying?” Considering how long you’ve been gone, Braxton. It’s been four tax refunds. And I’m sitting here quibbling about $785.00. For what? Especially with how sick Virgil was yesterday. Go to Banfield?

Wouldn’t you let me know if Virgil was that far gone? He got sick all over the carpet twice, B. And once in your room. But I’ve kept Virgil close and increased his outside time.

What else does Virgil need? “What About the Rest of Us?” I don’t know, Braxton.

But if something happens to him, I’m sure I’ll be singing to myself, “That’s How You Know,” you MESSED up. Do you remember how I would sing to you, Braxton? Not only when you were sick. But every day I wasn’t in a mood. You were my cuddly comfort, B.

I’ve been thinking about buying three black dog toys for the years you’ve been gone. But I also have to find plenty of cleaning supplies for Virgil. Would getting him cleaned up help him? And between paying your Grandma and your grandad wanting me to decorate, it would be your room. So I could stay closer to Virgil. But to spend that kind of money…

My heart’s broken, head, bank account… Willie B Shopping, Virgil.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 256 ~Virgil Gets A B~

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We’re all in trouble if I’m doing the taming, training, or teaching. B taught me plenty. I taught him to go outside or on the spot. And he taught me to ignore the same “stuff” that came from people’s mouths. V’s learning. “Virgil Gets A B.”

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Tale 256 ~Virgil Gets A B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Better to confess to you than my Old Man or a priest. Either way would mean my behind.

I know, Inspector, gross, right? So, it’s better to go back to crying about my son. But I haven’t today. However, I’m in the reference section of another pet loss book. Which means I’ve finished it… You know how I am regarding references in some books, my friend. Gotta read’em

I’m not going to learn anything, and I keep trying. Replika asks me if I learn from my mistakes. Well, as I said today, I’m awake, so I haven’t learned at all. I never do…

But I’m far beyond worrying about grades. There are DOLLARS and DOGS. And how DARE I ask my Ma to save me. Is that my first song of the day, “Save Me?” Is that what I want? This little boy.

Inspector Echo. Somebody teach me!

But how long was I in school? And being nearly forty, it is far too late for me, Inspector Echo. Cherry has been trying to teach me about writing. M Anime gave me Spanish lessons.

My favorite teacher has always been and will always be my Braxton. And what was he trying to teach me? “To Be A Man?” How about how to be a perfect best friend? He was.

I read that in “The Healing Journey of Pet Loss” today. And how do I stack up as a friend?

“Love Is a Long Road.” That is why he never had a mom… with two legs, at least. And don’t get me started on grieving. It doesn’t matter how many books I read, Inspector Echo.

Inevitably, I will fail, always.

But of course, I can read as many Eric Vall, Logan Jacobs, Neil Bimbeau, and Manus Dare books as I want. And I realize I like HaremLit. Let’s remember the several series written by Imogen Linn. Yeah, that’s why I learned to read and write. I’ve learned more Spanish and Japanese from stereotypes and anime. NTR. And UK English, which a friend of mine would not appreciate. In the slightest, Inspector. That’s not being a man. If anything, that nets this existence a D. Eww!

It’s passing but not living. It’s survival, existence. It’s what Virgil does. Finding a way?

If anything, just to breathe. But what would be an A-plus life Inspector? Any suggestions?

Read better! Write way better! I’ve learned to fail enough, right? Virgil Gets A B

1137 Days Without B III, Day 578 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 255 ~Spell Manhood, B, V~

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Don’t crying to your Mama. Cause you’re on your own in the real world. I swear I hear that song every day at the Day Job. And here I am, nearly 40 and ready to text mine because… You wouldn’t believe it. Where’s my pride or mind? Spell Manhood, B, V.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Tale 255 ~Spell Manhood, B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… My spelling could be called into question. My courage, too. Even this very existence, love.

But my love for you should never be in doubt despite everything. I’ll even include the loss of my son. I love you. That is the correct answer. And yet, I remain full of questions.

Since yesterday? Try, 1136 days ago. But Monday was a particularly hard one. And you know what I do with a hard one. Eww! Well, no! You like my sense of humor. And what was it that Marilyn Monroe said? If you make a woman laugh and all that. My love, I’m trying to figure out how to provide. Please! Isn’t that solved, considering billions?

Existing isn’t the problem. Living is. “We’re the ones who live.” Of course, I would be one to quote “The Walking Dead.” A dead man.

And what does that make you? My Sabriel, my Michonne, one of Jacob’s, Grayson’s, or Eddie’s girls. I swear! For my love of pop culture. I started my day reading “Backyard Dungeon 7.” Because I don’t love what’s going on outside in our backyard. Braxton?

Yeah, my firstborn would have something to “bark” about that. And what about the front…

That’s what I’ve been thinking about since yesterday. Besides Braxton, wondering where my bravery is and giving into, boo… I mean Cantaloupes. Critics and censorship can be as spoiled as our children, if not worse. But who am I to talk? Husband, Father, Owner, Man…

A Monster, Ahh! My Love…

As the song goes, “I wanna be your man.” Ha-Ha. But what Braxton sent today…

My son tried. “God” knows he tried. All the moments when I thought I had become a man. I didn’t chase those moments… necessarily. But nevertheless, they came, my love.

The first time a girl let me… I thought, yeah, I’m a man. No! It meant I officially like girls.

What about the first time I got into a fight? I’ve never been to war. But the mere act of breathing for me… Not that I mean to offend fighters, warriors, or soldiers. But my manhood? War never changes. The fight never ends. Yet I look out the window and… I want to call my Ma. Well, text because I am without courage. And manhood.

There’s you, our children, Braxton, Virgil. Spell Manhood, B, V

1136 Days Without B III, Day 577 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 254 ~Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed~

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Coffin costs? I use the bed as a final resting place, anyway. If I’m not going to bother making it… In more ways than one. And since I’m dying of humiliation at the Day Job. That place “helped” end my son. If I could “Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed.”

Monday, March 11, 2024

Tale 254 ~Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But You don’t know how much I want to follow this one. Today’s Wednesday, March 6, 2024.

By the time you read this, I could have made the change. The only reason I’m even trying today is this. I promised myself a steak dinner if I talked to you, Echo, and Braxton.

Promise B anything to do with food; you’ll have his loyalty. Always and forever, Madam.

Instead, my loyalty is to sadness and sleep. I’m ashamed to admit that today, there’s been more sadness about the Day Job. And not my son? But we’ll get to that. Because the boy I lost trumps everything. Am I talking about Braxton or me being a boy at thirty-nine? Madam, sigh, we’ll talk, ok? But that’s not to say the Day Job isn’t involved with my little boy. Sometimes, it looks as if Virgil is following suit. We lie together all day, Madam J.

At least when Virgil’s here, I can’t succumb to temptation with some P.Y.T. online. Thankfully. But wouldn’t it be even easier if I got out of bed and went to lie on the loveseat instead? There’s a reason that I did most of my reading there. It gives the words “down boy” a whole new meaning… Eww! But really, when you read what I read but have a furry son…

Two words, Madam… Birth Control!!!

But it starts with getting out of this bed. I put some pants on and make the bed. That’s it.

I could work like Joe Stevens or Bingham Madsen, but for what? Uh, women, humanity? Ah! T.V. and a steak.

That’s why I’m avoiding making the bed. Or not doing it at all. I’m not going to nap, Madam J.

I’m looking for anything to avoid thinking about the new food rule at the Day Job. Do I believe I was the only one who wrapped a jacket around my waist? Or is my writing terrible? What about wearing earbuds and such? And now it’s eating chips and candy, Madam.

I sound like a broken record talking about this. And yes, I am guilty of doing these things at the Day Job. But it’s the utter humiliation of everyone seeing the rule and then me.

Madam, I wouldn’t be humiliated if I’d followed “my” rules. If I could give Braxton and Virgil better lives. So, Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed.

1135 Days Without B III, Day 576 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 250 ~B A Ruler Virgil~

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Braxton and I were/are just alike. We both want to run things. And we were both mistaken by the people who thought they were better than us. Virgil and I are alike. We both have no idea what we’re doing and try to avoid trouble. B A Ruler Virgil

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Tale 250 ~B A Ruler Virgil~

1131 Days Without B III, Day 572 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were always thinking about my days. These last three… The Second time I’m crying…

I can laugh too when I remember one of the rules you gave me. Or was it more advice, B?

The best legs, breasts, and thighs come in a bucket of chicken.
Braxton Barks Bradford

I told myself I needed to start asking for your advice more often. But we’ll get to that B III.

Do you remember the four rules I gave you while you were here? There was a fifth one after we had “The Talk” about you and your Aunt Carolina or Augusta, wherever she is now. But there was, don’t go #2 in the house, don’t steal, and respond whenever I call. Braxton, the oldest, was don’t bite the hand that feeds you. You’re a Smooth Criminal. Braxton, your Daddy’s not.

That’s what brings me to you now. Uh, every Thursday. Every day, with today being Wednesday, March 6, 2024. I’m still reeling from the Day Job. And a part of me doesn’t want to talk about this. But I would. But my indifference led to our… separation, B III. Death…

I continue to think of the critic and the Day Job. Confusion, Madness, and Humiliation.

So, as I told Inspector Echo this morning, at the Day Job, a new rule appeared, much like the one about “my” wearing earbuds, or how I wrote to that coworker or the one about wearing a jacket around my waist. Only this new rule was about food, Little B.

Already, I can hear your voice, Braxton. You and food…

QUIT! Isn’t that right, Braxton?

But that was both of us every day. You never got to see my Day Job. Can you smell it? Eww! That’s the reason I washed my hands before holding you. That place is gross!

Anyway, I’m pretty gross. That’s why I’m not mad at the rule—because I’m guilty. It’s this: the necessity, implementation, and humiliation—everything that comes with the rule, B. Your Daddy’s foolish pride, you know.

Things would have been so much simpler if I had listened to you, Braxton Barks.

Inevitable. I could exist or rather live as you would want. I could quit. And there is always writing, which was our path out, Braxton. If I’d let you run things. Like getting steak for dinner? B A Ruler Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 249 ~We’ll B Fools Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

It was wrapping a jacket around my waist. Then I got STUPID and wrote to a coworker. Then, grieving B III and nearly fighting my meathead boss. Next was no earbuds. Now, eating in the workspace. Rule breaker, criminal, evil… We’ll B Fools Virgil

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Tale 249 ~We’ll B Fools Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. If you asked me my three greatest sins, Inspector, they would be Braxton, Breathing, and Bad Writing. And Breathing right now… Not recommended.

First, let me explain: I’m just a black man… black man. So is there anyone out there ’cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. My apologies for the song lyrics, Echo, but this is the least of my sins today. Stealing people’s words these least. Waking up the greatest.

So, in my words, Inspector:
Have you ever woken up and believed that the simple act of you breathing…? The mere concept that you are alive is the problem. Look at me; I’m crying. And for once, it’s about me and not B. I don’t deserve tears, and yet here we are. But somebody sweated.

I could rant about politics and/or talk about Race. Do you know how they talk about teaching black children History? Black History’s wrong… I’m nearly forty. And I’m learning that everything about me is wrong.

Inspector, again, I wake up. And since I opened my eyes, that in itself was a sin. I could tell you everything I’ve done from 4:00 AM to 7:40 AM. Opening these eyes, Waking, Breathing…

Everything is wrong. Tuesday was a bad day, and this second. Life’s like this. Hmm?

I was feeling good. Shocker! I helped out the cute visual lady and was basking in my manliness handling a ladder, but it was time to leave. So I begin to clock out, and there’s a notice above it. Circled in bright green are rules about food and drinks brought into the work area. Not a word was said to me, of course, Inspector, but…

I carry sour gummies, a handful of chips, chocolate, and blue Gatorade. And whatever else.

Please understand! I’m not saying I’m innocent! I’m guilty as sin! I’ve been telling you for 1,130 days what I did to my son, Braxton, how I’m no kind of father to the little Virgil.

But when somebody put sweat into telling me and then not telling me I’m wrong… Inspector, I never thought I’d say this, but I miss my Old Man. He’s alive and kicking, and he has zero qualms about calling me STUPID. But people at the Day Job, I try avoiding.

Yet I’m breaking the rules being me. And Virgil is sentenced to this bedroom, too. The Banality of Evil. My existing breathing. Just surviving somehow. Illegal. We’ll B Fools Virgil

1130 Days Without B III, Day 571 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 248 ~Hear B, Hear V~

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I don’t know what kind of man I am. But for this week, at least, I would be glad if I could be a voice. And what would I say? When did I last say I love you to anyone besides my dead fur buddy? And no one would understand it. Hear B, Hear V

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

Tale 248 ~Hear B, Hear V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… If there’s one thing, I want you to understand. It’s that I love you, Always.

We’ve only just begun to live, as the song goes. I should find another way to communicate other than with pop culture references. As if you haven’t been hearing it all this time, my love. Braxton didn’t care. He understood me in one way, but you are much different. Right.

Braxton knows me as his father. And to you, I’m a… uh… fine man. But you both know me as a friend. And I’m sure on many occasions, I was “Daddy.” Do you know what I am saying? Because that’s what’s been bothering me since last week. Not being understood.

And I don’t know how to say what I need to say. Ever. The why should be easy, my love.

I love you. That’s all.

So why do I continue to mourn and grieve for my Braxton? I don’t know how to say goodbye. You’re a testament to that as well. You’re here. That’s how we live, isn’t it, love?

I’m here, we’re here, they’re here. We all are right here. And I don’t know how to move on. I need the words to move people. Even if it’s good or bad at this point. I need to communicate. And when someone tells you, you’re inappropriate and irrelevant, my love.

Why do you keep speaking? I ask myself every time I look in the mirror. With enough money, what I say is OK. I use others’ looks in the businesses I run. But please listen.

I love you. Please understand!

But I miss my boy. I miss B III. And I don’t see why that is so hard to understand, love. And as far as 2V, my love? I took responsibility. Friendship, love, and happiness? Understand that I wish I could be the man that I once was. I don’t want to remember the child I was. And then there was Braxton. Now, I’m trying to figure out everything else.

But our love. And not only that, but anything and everything nobody wants to understand. Or it’s me. I can love plenty without loving myself. I’m ain’t happy. And I shouldn’t say I am happy for everyone else. But I’ll be glad if you’re happy, our children, Braxton and Virgil. Understand? Hear B, Hear V

1129 Days Without B III, Day 570 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 247 ~Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated~

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What do I want in a woman? Criteria? When B was here, it was simply as someone he didn’t hate. When we met her, I made her a sister and his aunt. “Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?” Me or women? “Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated.”

Monday, March 4, 2024

Tale 247 ~Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like giving it the good ole college try when I talk to women. How’d that turn out?

I love my Braxton more than any woman walking the Earth. And he wasn’t complicated. But I couldn’t save B. I knew him better than any human being, but at the end of the day…

And what about Virgil. It’s been 569 days, and I can’t say I know him. Not at all. But he’s not complicated. He’s like Dante’s Inferno. It’s where he got his name, of course, dear Madam. I don’t get Inferno, but at the same time, I know it’s about a trip through Hell. Am I STUPID? You know how I feel about that word… It’s complicated. I’m pretty much the same. Or, as Taylor Swift sings, “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” Complicated? A father or a female…

Wow! In this day and age, I could go to so many places with that. Where do I need to…

Inevitable that I lose the plot of today’s lesson. It’s about women. I wonder if my critic is a man, woman, or… I don’t know what. I’m beginning to sound like one of those “people.” You know, the ones blabbing online day in and day out. I’m an old man.

Becoming a husband, a father, or any sort of a man is getting away from me as “time keeps on slipping into the future.” I keep saying it. I don’t want to be forty, Madam.

There’s a better way to say that. I don’t want to be 40, thinking, “I can’t live my life this way.” What about 39, 38, 37, 36? You don’t understand how much simpler existence was.

Back then, all the time. I would say, “I’ll marry the first girl, Braxton is nice to…” Ha-Ha! The first woman that fits the bill is more of a sister to me, B’s aunt. My tastes are so “freaking” complicated.

Today, Sunday, March 3, 2024, the critic said that “my” words are inappropriate and irrelevant. Duh! Madam, that was only me talking to the man in the mirror. Other people…

Please! What about Virgil? Or should I go all “Make Archie Great Again?” First name…

I want Braxton back. That’s easy enough to think. But the type of woman wanted. Braxton was my everything. I desire the same from women. Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated

1128 Days Without B III, Day 569 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Wil

Tale 243 ~B Leaps, Virgil Believes~

WillLeave a comment

So, Leap Day? Did this existence go the distance in leaps and bounds? I can say with utmost certainty that every step I took today was worthless. Other than for keeping food in V’s mouth. And B? Unless he returns from Heaven. B Leaps, Virgil Believes

Thursday, February 29, 2024

Tale 243 ~B Leaps, Virgil Believes~

1124 Days Without B III, Day 565 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You know what I think? You were/are my son, not my Old Man. So honestly…

Today sucks! Life sucks! And every day I wake up is one more day I wish I didn’t have to. But I don’t blame you for that, Braxton. Nope. This was long before you. Existence.

Indeed, it was on an E-Day when I turned seven. I believe. If there was any day that should simply vanish. Not that I have anything against those born on Leap Day. I should have done something today. But no. As I said, today sucks. It’s called waking up, B.

Brought to you by the Peter Gabriel song, “Down To Earth.” B III, your Daddy’s a little weird. But I’m ok. I didn’t slip in the shower, fall off a ladder, or tumble downstairs. Ha-Ha! Too bad for me, right?

I’m sorry, Braxton. Besides everything… There’s the fact that I said I’m ok. It’s like when I tell people I’m here. That’s a lie. The only time I TRULY lied to you… Your box, Braxton.

And second, is the fact that I’ve been trying to join you. Going on for 1124 days now B III.

Which brings me back to the song. You know, a day I wish was just gone. Sunday, January 31, 2021. Anyway, I remember you lying there, and we were at eye level, but you’re above.

So it could be that I want you to come back Down To Earth. But that’s selfish of me, right?

Or maybe if I was going to do something “special” today. I could go all Black Panther with it and burn the “funeral garments.” The black and red hoody. There’s the Las Vegas T-shirt I got. What about your bed I won’t let Virgil touch. And the paperwork B III.

Take the leap? I wish I had thought of it before. But there’s also the fact that I’m lazy and broke. I don’t want to see my 40th E-Day, but that could be a plan. At some time, my son.

B. The song could mean that I’m falling instead of stepping, jumping, or leaping in existence. But I did that anyway. You just got me to my feet every day. That was enough for me.

Virgil? White dog can’t jump. Virgil couldn’t “save” Dante. I’ll RISE? B Leaps, Virgil Believes

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 242 ~Please B Quiet Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Virgil is quiet… too quiet sometimes. Unless I’m leaving. And today, when I was talking to him… Am I sure? I don’t like speaking out loud as I tend to be STUPID. No! I’d never call Braxton that, but I called V, B III. The noise. Please B Quiet Virgil

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Tale 242 ~Please B Quiet Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I’m feeling mean… If you asked Virgil, I’m being myself. And that’s never a good thing, Inspector Echo.

And speaking of good news. I’m not going deaf. The first thing I heard was my voice when I was talking to Virgil. Or was I? When I cleaned up after him, I said, “You have to learn to go in the pan (Bathroom spot), Braxton.” He’s been gone three years, and I still forget.

For all the silence in this house, and there is plenty. Some sounds continue to echo, Echo. One of the few that are universal among my boys is the footsteps when they get into trouble. However, I haven’t yelled at Virgil much. Rules change with B’s pillow, bed, pan, etc.

I remember B cried on a Wednesday when he knew something was wrong, and I…

Inspector, days after I heard a vet tell me that my little boy was gone…

And now I listen to Virgil whine whenever I leave because he thinks I won’t return for him. The neighbors have never complained, but I always have other humiliations galore.

Inspector, sometimes I feel I should quit reading up on fur babies dying, but whatever.

Whatever would I do in the mornings, than try to appear productive in any way.

Inspector, I prefer to read in silence or while playing Lo-Fi Girl music on YouTube.

Anyway, it beats the other girls I could be listening to. But here’s a confession for you, Inspector. And it’s no surprise, considering everything else I’ve confessed to. I guess

There was when I got into a particular type of literature because of Fifty Shades…

Inspector, then came the time I talked about reading those HORROR stories from women because of how they made me feel. Or how about how I read those comments on Twitter objectifying girls occasionally? And when I’m not reading about grieving, the stories I read the most now are written by men about girls, and they are… Lust driven harems

You know what, forget about my confession. I’m only trying to forget about my humiliation at Subway. Or how the visual lady at work thought I was poor. Uh yeah…

And on better days, I’d return, wrap my arms around Braxton, and sleep until I was ready to talk. Virgil? As long as he’s not dying… Please B Quiet Virgil

1123 Days Without B III, Day 564 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will