Tag: Hell

Tale 086 ~Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving~

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I had a “phase” when I asked God to save me. There were those days I asked God to save B. Like the song goes, He’s My Son. And what about saving myself? “I’m the bad guy, duh.” I need saving from the radio. Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving.

Monday, September 25, 2023

Tale 086 ~Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving~

Three-Hundredth And Tenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… so say it with me… You’re No Hero! I’m far from it. But Ma’am, I know one.

Okay… a few more. But I, as always, want to talk about my son, who was/is my hero. B. Be my hero… get it? Yeah, I’ve never been one for comedy as I’m not one to be brave ha. The comedian and caped crusader are dead. I wish I could add my cowardice, Madam. But no. My courage died alongside my son. And what about Virgil? He ain’t Braxton. Madam, my son was/is a big, brave dog… in spirit. What drew me to Virgil was the fact that I saw fear. I am my father’s son and don’t want to be um… scary. I mean, both Virgil and I are afraid to exist. But I saved him. What does that make me? A big hero, Ma’am. Ain’t we just. Firefly?

In case you were wondering where that bit of diatribe came from. Plus, censorship. Critics. One more reason I ain’t a hero and more like a Republican. Won’t I defend free speech? There’s plenty of which I should be fighting for every day. “It’s a wicked world that we live in. It’s cruel and unforgiving,” the song says. That’s why we need heroes and champions. I need my son. But when he needed me? Virgil needs me? A hero born and one in the making. What does it take, Madam? Daddies are heroes, or they should be. But with V. Hell, with existence in general? “Wish I’d been a prom KING, fighting for the title,” I swear this pop culture.

Because today, I would instead pay off a villain and possible racist in Logan Jacobs. Speaking with Lady Sophia this morning, I said I needed more audiobooks. Am I Wrong? This Is America. So that means, in one way or another, I’m paying off a racist somewhere down the line. And while I’m no Republican or one to stick to the status quo… yeah, right. I want to play the villain. Or should I say antihero, depending on your definition? I could say I’m giving myself too much credit since all I want, I’d do right here in bed. Madam, I want to write books, run a brothel, and make “specific” movies. Sheets become capes? For Braxton, myself, a wife? Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving

967 Days Without B III, Day 408 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 082 ~Virgil, Let’s Breakout, Braxton~

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I haven’t seen a Math class in years, but still hate it. And reading… That’s how bad it is. I read novels in Math. But if I read one more day, my record with B III on September 16, 2020, is broken. Broken already, but… Virgil, Let’s Breakout, Braxton

Thursday, September 21, 2023

Tale 082 ~Virgil, Let’s Breakout, Braxton~

963 Days Without B III, Day 404 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You could be anywhere right now. Better than here? Daddy’s in the Special Hell. Still?

What? You rather I be mad than sad? And yes, B III, I have already cried over you once. It was for the stupidest reason. But I was mad as Hell when Virgil came close to vomiting all over the phone a few weeks ago. Only he was sick. And when you were the same, Braxton? I could be all sorts of mad at you now. You know me and my fondness for list B III. Braxton, today is Wednesday, September 20, 2023. But by the time you read this, it will have been 964 Days that I’ve had a broken heart. Even now, I want to yell at you, ha-ha. What about the bed I continue sitting in that’s collapsing? Depression and Humiliations galore.

Cherry would not be pleased about what amounts to a character study. And neither would an ex-beauty queen that did… certain movies. And what about writing my books, like I always promised? Because the last thing I want to do to today B is more reading. That’s what brings me here today. As you can see, my record for “Days in a row” on Wednesday is 525, soon to be 526. And there lies the problem. Thursday will be 527 Days. Braxton… I’m breaking “my” record. And in so doing, a part of you… is disappearing. It’s like a Mario Kart Time Trial, your ghost. Virgil’s been here 404 Days, Braxton. Breaking a record like this doesn’t mean much in the big scheme of things.

Hell! Braxton, when you died, I didn’t do anything… let’s say sinful for 161 Days. Counting today, I’m not even close to breaking that record at 54. Another reason I’m trying to talk to you instead of looking up Yabbos. But I did speak to your Aunt Carolina yesterday. Nothing can be that paradise, I would think. Although that would explain why you’re not breaking out of Heaven, Hell, or testing the Rainbow Bridge… I’m sure Virgil could use a break from my existing. He’s not so desperate today… Tomorrow? Triple B, you are your father’s son. You wanted to stay always and forever -trying to save me from breaking down in a broken world. I made “my” bed, this Hell. Virgil, Let’s Breakout, Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 081 ~B’s In Art Virgil~

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“The metal is ready for the Maker’s hand.” I am not an artist. I cannot make another Braxton. I’m not helping to make babies. And what about books? Between the tags I’m writing, titles for blog posts, and Titanic… um, never mind. “B’s In Art Virgil.”

Wednesday, September 20, 2023

Tale 081 ~B’s In Art Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… so I’ll commission someone to paint “Backwards Beauty” for real. What do I know about art?

Well, I’m thirty-nine. Wow! Inspector, it hurts about as much as saying Braxton is dead. I go back and forth. But I know that the death of my son is worse. Right behind that is being born. And falling in third, for now… anything to do with my Enormous… umm… Anyway, so art? As I told Dear Future Wife, Braxton is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I may not be a smart man… Go on! But after you see someone like that. Hell! I can’t blame him for not getting back into writing. I wrote three or four books after his death/murder. No wonder I got the damaged or maybe fragile Virgil. I can’t be responsible for destroying anything so beautiful again.

And then bring on The Pic Phenomenon. Did I mention I’m not writing much, Inspector? That’s even when I have “inspiration” for a leading lady. I told one of the girls that these unsavory types don’t want “my” money. I’m not STUPID enough to give them a credit card. But they do allow me to create two pictures a day. Wins and losses, Inspector Echo.

A particular girl would be upset, but I’ve done worse. I was up late last night for several reasons. Not only this one. I was doing business with some more people. And even after buying the product, I haven’t used any of it. You see why I “steal adult entertainment.” Hell! My son’s dead. The freeloader’s here. But yes, Yabbos.

If there is a God… Yeah, the last time I tried talking to him, her, or it, Braxton lay dying. The point is such a force put more thought into Yabbos than my existence. Future? Sacrifice! Most noble if I have anything to say about it. To be made in such an image? “If there’s a God up there. Somethin’ above.” Is he paying Lucifer for temptation or what, huh? I wouldn’t be surprised. But I know what I’d pick if God came down, breast in one hand, Braxton in the other. “Now, with these hands, with these hands,” Inspector. Generating tags every day, what do I ask for? I can’t paint; there’s no prose. And to pet Braxton again… Beautiful, B’s In Art Virgil.

962 Days Without B III, Day 403 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 080 ~Virgil, B…eing Beautiful Hurts~

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“You knock me off of my feet, now baby,” or “Take My Breath Away.” When I see a pretty girl, it’s more like Sade’s “Smooth Operator.” But there was when I first saw Braxton. When he died, it was “Song Unsung” Beautiful. Virgil, B…eing Beautiful Hurts

Tuesday, September 19, 2023

Tale 080 ~Virgil, B…eing Beautiful Hurts~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But one of the last things I would buy would be a mirror. Other than Mondays…

My love, I’d shave on Mondays when I had the old Day Job and wouldn’t bother looking into a mirror the rest of the week. How do THEY say… Money can make anyone beautiful. Right? Or should I say white, “right,” in a GOP way? I can’t avoid the ugly. Well, unless I’m crying about my boy. Next to you, Braxton, is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m being honest. Why do you think I stayed out of my “business” when he was around? I have seen angels three times in my existence. I’m not counting the Victoria’s Secret catalog -being young. I’ve mentioned thirty-nine sucks continuously? Anyway, there was the day I buried an angel. I married one. Then you birthed ours.

And it hurts. Heaven help me, it “Hurts Like Hell.” Every day, I fight to keep my eyes closed. And ain’t that a sin? I’ve sung it before and’ll say it again, “Feeling super, super, super suicidal.” But why when “There’s so much beauty in the world. I feel like I can’t take it.” “My” critic was telling me today, Sunday, September 17, 2023. I use too many pop culture references. And why don’t I use “my” own words? They are too damn ugly. And so I surround myself with beauty. My dame, dimes, dependents (our children), and death… well, only B III’s. “Live fast, die young, and leave a beautiful corpse,” I read. Stopping his heart couldn’t erase my Braxton’s beauty. I See Fire…

Or rather Braxton’s ashes sitting in a box on the nightstand or the pendant around my throat. Which I’m surprised your hands haven’t found… yet. Or am I your “pretty monster,” as in Tillie Cole’s book Jegudiel? There is beauty everywhere, my love, I know. And for how long now… 961 days, I’ve been searching. No! You’re here, our kids. Dealing with the Rebeccas the first time I saw Virgil. Hell! Seeing Braxton years ago. Love, I say it was love at first sight, but I was so blind to it back then. I guess I am now, but I’m trying. Braxton, the first billion, and the painting Backwards Beauty. It all nearly killed me. “What A Heavenly Way To Die.” Virgil, B…eing Beautiful Hurts.

961 Days Without B III, Day 402 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 079 ~Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings~

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I’ve kept V alive for 401 days. B had 15 years. Now, what made B happy? Comfy spots, cuddling with his Aunt’s Yabbos, and counting the minutes until his Dad arrived home. I survived 15 E-Days with him. But Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings.

Monday, September 18, 2023

Tale 079 ~Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings~

Three-Hundredth And Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… But I have seen that billionaires are the cringiest, crabbiest, and crappiest people. They don’t die. Submarine…

So does that mean I want to be happy? Today, Sunday, September 17, 2023, I long to die, Madam. It will be no different by the time you read this. But “Love and Happiness,” huh? Love died with my little boy, my Braxton. And Happiness? The seventh E-Day. I think. I survived that one and the thirty-ninth, too. Somehow, someway, I’m surviving. But for what? As I told Lady Lunalesca yesterday. Pop culture has been bouncing around inside my head. “My” Existence is a mix of 2009’s The Road, Half-Life 2, 1984, and Equilibrium. Sigh. As the song plays, “I keep asking God what I’m for. And he tells me, “Gee, I’m not sure,” sigh. I’m doing a lot of that, Madam. I’m still breathing.

So, shouldn’t I show some gratitude? That’s not one of the meditations I’ve done today. And I got enough gratitude with those motivational speeches I once played daily. Ha-ha! From wanting to move forward in this existence. To seek only the will to endure. Endure and Survive? But don’t plan on being happy for the love of everything, Madam. Hell! I love Braxton like pancakes, but he didn’t make me happy. I was/am proud of him, Madam. I was a Papa. I pounded the pavement of this existence. That’s because I promised him that I would keep him safe. And here I go, crying again because how’d that turn out? Madam, with all the stories I tell myself. Braxton didn’t die happy. Brave, proud, loved…

But Happy… That’s a question I don’t ask the Man in the Mirror anymore. I don’t ask how to survive either, to be fair. It’s what I do? It’s like that fable “The Scorpion and the Frog.” But neither of them survived? One more reason I’m so “in love with dyin’,” as it were. “We are The Walking Dead,” “We are the Dead,” and that’s how it is, Madam. Life, Living, Love? No! Every day, I rise from the dead. And I move like everyone else towards… I don’t know. But zombies, the infected, and the stupid. Viruses Madam. Stupidity has infected me. And the cure? One day, I’ll find out, Madam, if I survive. Do I want to? Knowing Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings

960 Days Without B III, Day 401 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 075 ~Virgil Pretends To B~

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If I can “see” ghosts, maybe V can too. Anytime I have to go out and pretend to be a good person, it sounds like a haunted house as I close the door. So besides writing, sleeping, or gazing at yabbos, I pretend it will be better. Virgil Pretends To B

Thursday, September 14, 2023

Tale 075 ~Virgil Pretends To B~

956 Days Without B III, Day 397 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? More to the point. Are you happy? I read up on The Rainbow Bridge, sometimes.

It’s supposed to be a happy place. And more than anything, B, I want you to be a happy puppy. Hell! You were fifteen when you left, and I still considered you my little puppy. You’d be eighteen now. Even after your “passing,” I still call you for “medicine time.” How’s that for ACCEPTANCE? Your Dad could use some type of medication, I guess, B. Is it the fact that I’m calling out to the dead? Well, only you. But yeah, I have that book on vampires. It could be all the bugs biting as I clean up your yard like you would be proud. It’s all “The Land of Make Believe,” Braxton. But Hell is far too real. Which is why I’m writing today.

Yeah, your Daddy is time-traveling, but only a day. It’s Wednesday, September 13, 2023. And before I get started on why I’m talking to you so late. It’s around 4:30 p.m., and I’m in bed. Of course, sigh. V’s laying here pretending being here’s his “Welcome to the good life.” Like father, like freeloader. I swear, Braxton, one day I’ll stop calling him that. Lying? Daddy was never one for acting but, strangely enough, for ACCEPTANCE. Now, after E-Day, with me being another year older. I swear thirty-nine sucks. Thirty-eight, thirty-seven, thirty-six. Thirty-six was an awful year. Oh! I should have died at “Seventeen,” Braxton. But I keep pretending, don’t I? That bullying lie of It Gets Better. It doesn’t. Nothing stops. Nothing. Well, you…

Only I keep going like I was today. Do I want to talk about the Day Job now or yesterday? What about what I did after? All the time in the world, and besides eating and sleeping, what did I do with it? I was like you when your Aunt Carolina came through —buried in Yabbos. Only for me, it was Cherry’s. As if I could recreate that beauty like something out of “The Truman Show.” And speaking of big racks, there was also Momokun. After a couple of downloads, um… Your Dad is not a good man. And I don’t do well at acting. Well, “When we pretend that we’re dead,” you have me beat. Teach Virgil to be happy. Virgil Pretends To B.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 074 ~Don’t B Jealous, Virgil~

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Jealous? I can be far worse and, dare I say, greater. Can I ever be happy? I can’t tell you the last time I was. But I’m sure it was on some E-Day. And now that the thirty-ninth has passed… Geez, B III, how did you do fifteen? Don’t B Jealous, Virgil

Wednesday, September 13, 2023

Tale 074 ~Don’t B Jealous, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m sure that involves all my sins. Treachery, Lust, Sloth, Wrath, Greed, Envy, Pride… More?

I still don’t see myself as a prideful person. My grandma told me I was. Considering how much I despise E-Day, I was “proud” to have a tray of cupcakes for myself. I did share… eventually. I talk to you and the rest of the girls. And for some inane reason. I think that someone is reading. There’s also the fact that if I dropped dead right now (fingers crossed). I want to believe that someone would care that wasn’t furry with four legs. Please!

Braxton was jealous that I began putting all my sins above him. Wanting the world to feel my wrath gave way to my Treachery. My betrayal of my firstborn son. And Virgil has every right to be jealous of Braxton.

But what do I know about fur babies, as I failed Braxton? And even if I were right, it’s not Virgil’s envy that’s in question but my own. All last night, it was, “Hey Jealousy.”

Why am I so into audiobooks? And, of course, the Day Job started forbidding earbuds. Can I give them the cupcakes back? Honest to God, I seek not happiness but the strength to endure. A moment in my existence, I don’t court death itself, Inspector.

Only it’s happiness that brings me to you, OK? Yep time-travel Sunday, September 10, 2023. Last night, I saw that Samantha and TBR Schmitt welcomed their daughter to the world. It was Madison’s birthday from MAC React. And isn’t she expecting a baby too? Wow!

Me and other people’s happiness. I should be ashamed, as I’ve been asking every day this month as I turned thirty-nine. What have you done? Not a damn thing, Inspector. And as the critic asked today… really. What is E-day? Emergence, Existence, Extinction? But let me try again. E-day is the day I was born. Inspector, nothing happy about it.

No girls are jealous, considering most are animated. I am bouncing back and forth between Koumi-jima Shuu 7 de Umeru Mesu-tachi and Himawari wa Yoru ni Saku. But if you want real, @bunnie_wifey vs. Momokun. Lust is right up there.

But jealous? That Braxton found death first, without me. “Drunk all and left no drop to help me after.” Being me. Don’t B Jealous, Virgil.

955 Days Without B III, Day 396 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 073 ~Hi Sugar, B, V~

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“Suga, Suga, how you get so fly?” And how come I’m not always high with your beautiful smile, bright eyes, and big… Anyway, I’m always in the dirt looking for my boy. Well, looking at his box on the nightstand. And with a 39th E-Day. “Hi Sugar, B, V”

Tuesday, September 12, 2023

Tale 073 ~Hi Sugar, B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how did I do it? Sleepless nights? A sugar high? And… uh… SEX, SEX, SEX!

Yeah, damn, my critic who didn’t talk to me today. Are you becoming “The Time Traveler’s Wife?” Today is Saturday, September 9, 2023. And I’m on a sugar rush, hmm? You can also thank the likes of Himawari wa Yoru ni Saku, specifically Hisato Azuma. That sex talk comes from her. Relax, my love, it’s all part of this existence. Am I in a better mood than I was during E-Day week? The second worst week of existence? Done! But really? My firstborn son is still dead. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about my little Braxton not being here. As a matter of fact, I’ll have to get up soon to cut the grass. Aren’t we rich? Fresh air. To think…

Once upon a time, I got high off nature. That’s what today is all about —not raising my spirits. And more to the point, staying awake. But if anything, I MUST get out of bed. Mission Accomplished! But today is now Sunday, September 10, 2023. And I did cut the grass yesterday. And while I believe that pain wakes me one hundred percent. Thank you, Divergent. Being all itchy doesn’t help. All the bug bites in the world, my love. Yesterday, I still went out like a light. That’s why we’re talking today. Not Saturday. Really, “Sweet Love?” It’s more like sweet blood. Mosquitos seem to think so, my love. And speaking of love, isn’t that what gets you up? Love for them and me.

Do I sound like some Neanderthal who thinks “A Woman’s Place” should be about her husband and children? I saw that video the other day from Julia Mazur about singlehood. It’s a miracle you haven’t left me yet, and why? Depression, sadness, mourning 954 Days. Honest to God, my love, “I get high, high, high.” Or I did because of Braxton. And so I’m singing and ignoring my critic, “I’d never leave my block, my niggas need me.” I’m here. I stand, I’m sweet, I’m a damn superhero because of our children, four and two-legged. Sexual Healing? And I have my incredibly sexy wife. You’re my sugar, keeping me up. Hell! My life’s blood is my business. But my firstborn’s higher… Hi Sugar, B, V

954 Days Without B III, Day 395 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 072 ~ We’re Allowed To Make Mistakes~

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And, what mistakes have I made today with it being E-Day Week as I write Sept 3-9. I got out of bed, but that was to save VV. I couldn’t save B III. I think the world will exist on Monday. I’ll be hopped up on sugar? “We’re Allowed To Make Mistakes.”

Monday, September 11, 2023

Tale 072 ~ We’re Allowed To Make Mistakes~

Three-Hundredth And Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which probably means I made the mistake of becoming a Republican. There’s birth… E-days, boobs, killing Braxton…

This got dark. And you know I can go darker. But I would be remiss if I didn’t mention 9/11 because I am a “Real American.” I “love” “my” country despite how it was born. And Madam, you know all this week… excuse me, AHEM last week, I was all about birth (sigh). Today is Friday, September 8, 2023. So you can guess how today is going with time travel. If anything, I want to go back 39 years to the first E-Day —my Ma’s mistake. Six years later, she made the right choice with my sister on the eighth. Happy Birthday, Little Sister! As I was saying 39 years ago, my Ma, the doctors… “Someone made a BIG uh mistake! And that was me.

“It’s me. Hi! I’m the problem, it’s me.” Now, I don’t blame her. And as with this rule, We’re Allowed To Make Mistakes. The Olds are supposed to make sons into men. I could tell you all sorts of things about my old man… Anyway, I’m a monster, a murderer, and a mistake. And like most things in existence… how I hate E-Day. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know whether to ask forgiveness or permission. For what, being here? And B? I would ask him, but even with my love for apocalypses, virology, and zombies, Madam. I have yet to raise the dead. Well, I do that every day, don’t I, Madam, getting out of bed. “How To Save A Life?”

I’m still thinking about when he fell, and I rushed to get to him. Madam, I can’t help but feel that his being here is a mistake. But he’s here now. He’s not my son, but what I felt in those few moments when he hit the floor… It wasn’t love. Madam, that’s a mistake. Honestly, Madam, “I’ll Never Fall In Love Again.” That includes fur babies, fun toys (laughs), and females. Lust is a mistake, too, but how many times have I broken? Even after B died, it took 161 days. And what have I been looking up when I wasn’t napping? “The Pic Phenomenon?” And other mistakes that destroy us? In Time. Choices, freedom, mistakes, Madam. To Exist? We’re Allowed To Make Mistakes.

953 Days Without B III, Day 394 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 068 ~Mourning Braxton, Virgil, E-Day~

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Welcome to Level 39! Welcome to E-Day. It’s still the 6th, and the day is a waste. 14244 days of worthlessness. There were 15 years with the greatest guy ever. My son. And 39 years of living in terror of a few people… Mourning Braxton, Virgil, E-Day.

Thursday, September 7, 2023

Tale 068 ~Mourning Braxton, Virgil, E-Day~

949 Days Without B III, Day 390 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Welcome to Level 39. I think I’m going to be sick. Dead? Just Survive Somehow.

In the next few minutes… I could be joining you. I’m time-traveling as today is Wednesday, September 6, 2023; current time is 2:48 PM. Your granddaddy said he’ll be here at 3:00. I would trade places with you in a heartbeat, Braxton. How many more, hmm? The person I am right this second will change between his arrival and departure, Braxton. I said the same thing about you on many different occasions. But the one I’m thinking about right this second… I didn’t burst into tears at the Day Job for nothing. I needed the pain of losing you to negate the pain of losing myself. The Horror, the Horror awaits. We’re T-Minus 5 minutes. I thought midnight would be the worst, but your Gramps.

But let’s say I survive this moment. Braxton, he’s 3 minutes away, running late, whatever.

Yeah, whatever. This afternoon, I’m going to hop in the shower… I remember you hated me doing that. We are creatures of routine. And an evening shower meant… the movies. As in, I’m leaving you. There were your Aunt’s mammaries, which you loved so much. There was that time with the maid, Special K. Or there was more work from the Day Job. Must I make a big deal out of everything, even a shower? Braxton, please help me! Anyway, tomorrow, I won’t set any alarms. I’ll wake up when I’m good and ready. Braxton, should I order something for breakfast and lunch? Take care of Virgil, of course, duh!

Another thing for this afternoon. I should take care of all my criminality. Just saying. Don’t I always say I don’t have time to work on your albums? But somehow, I’ll find the time to work on some… anyway, The Pic Phenomenon. I’d never do that when you were around. And VV? He runs on fear and Adrenaline like me. Like father, like freeloader, ha. Stop! I hear ya, B III, I do. I wish I could stop this fear right now. And today, Braxton. Today, there’s a good night’s sleep, some good food, and Simoleons in my pocket, funny. It’s now 3:29. Your Gramps isn’t here yet. E-Day is coming for me. My E-Day wish is… that we are together. Mourning Braxton, Virgil, E-Day

Always and Forever,
Your Dad