Tag: Hell

Saga 062 ~Between B and V~

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Between B and V… what do I look like, Sesame Street or place? A monster but a lot less cute, not that I can think of things like that right now. I have a fur baby next to me, and I wonder who he is. Do I even know what day it is? Between B and V

Thursday, September 1, 2022

Saga 062 ~Between B and V~

578 Days Without B III, Day 019 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s the “1st Of Tha Month,” and I’m talking to you… Wednesday, August 24, 2022.

I’m not sure anymore. By this time, I suppose I’ll be reading another book on reincarnation, trying to decide. If anything, I choose you, Braxton. Nothing against Virgil. Hell! I’ve spent most of today with him sleeping beside me. A bonding experience to share tomorrow… I should, but the idea that we’re talking well today? You know by the time you read this, I’ve had a day full of Humiliations Galore. Of course, your grandpa is always a million times worse. It’s not the fleshlight I keep in the bathroom, the recent gnat infestation B. Nor is it your destroyed pillow. I’m so sorry, Braxton. It’s a fact I couldn’t hide Virgil from him today. You know how I tried. What his being here means…

If anything, I ain’t happy. Like the song goes, “And in this moment I am happy, happy. I wish you were here.” To be around your grandpa once again? I wouldn’t want that for you. But then again, who are you, what are you, where are you? Between you, Virgil? Again reading all about repose, release, and reincarnation. Can’t I read more about a “Succubus?” Ha-Ha! The song I sang is from a band called “Incubus.” An easy choice, B III. If only all of existence was like that. That’s something that Virgil has over you, and again I’m sorry. I haven’t done anything to change my… let’s say, the status of existence since he’s been here, but I wish. As Republicans think, “Furries” have a way of complicating things.

Speaking of complicated, again. I’m talking to you today telling you these things, and what about tomorrow? Ask the Day Job. I chose to chat with you today because of well today. And tomorrow? That’s August 25, 2022. I’ll talk to you instead of going to the Day Job. Money? Haven’t I been talking about being so broke? I choose zero over the pittance, right? Everything that is between us, or is there nothing at all? I keep looking at Virgil lying here like you once did… do now? I don’t know anything. My ABCs and 123’s? And sometimes death seems so close, then far away. The reason Virgil is between me and the nightstand. Your shrine but in the drawer… Between B and V

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 059 ~Better The Devil You Know~

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Times Like These, I need my little angel or devil on my shoulder. As the other devils, I know… My God! More like my dog, my son. There’s Virgil, who knows what he’s seen before me. If the past two weeks were any indication? Better The Devil You Know.

Monday, August 29, 2022

Saga 059 ~Better The Devil You Know~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if I could look the Man in the Mirror in the eye, right?

I don’t know how many times I’m going to say this. But I rather see my little boy, B III. The angel on my shoulder… more like the little devil. If anything, he’s a better man than me, that’s for damn sure. My Braxton, my son. A child makes you more than a parent, J.

“Take away a man’s son, you’ve truly given him nothing left to lose.” ― Zombieland

With Virgil, I don’t know what that makes me right now. While I’m busy quoting Zombieland, what about this, Madam? Only my sister doesn’t know Virgil. I tried hiding him from my “father.” Master Yoda was right; all do or do not… Not saying everything.

“And then I look into my nephew’s eyes
Man, you wouldn’t believe
The most amazing things
That can come from
Some terrible lies” Some Nights

Hell! I’ve learned from so many, and as much as it pains me to say this. That includes my “father.” Man in the Mirror again.

It’s not like I’m completely in the dark about who I am. At the moment, I’m going to be all sorts of pissed at Hemingway for “LY.” Should I talk about all the writing gadgets and gizmos that think they know better than me? To be honest, J, I don’t trust me either. I don’t like me neither. Especially (fuck you, Hemingway) this now. A long ass day Madam. It’s Friday, August 26, 2022. And all day today, “I roared. And I rampaged.” Satisfaction? There is none to be had, but the devil remains on my shoulder. Well, my pocket. My phone is waiting for my “father’s” call. And then there’s Virgil at my feet. Angel, devil, nothing really. Another (fuck you, Hemingway!) Sigh, Fuck!

Yeah, that’s going to get old. I’m sick of old men telling me what to do, despite certain pornos with plaid skirts. And, of course, there’s my B III. An old man worth listening to. When I started talking to you yesterday, the 25th, I wasn’t as angry as this second, Madam Justice. I listened to an old black man. And now I’ll have to face someone way worse. “Father!” Speaking of which. Virgil should be mad that whatever devil put fear into his heart made him be here with me at my worst. I’m not his Daddy. Harsh but a fact, J. The devils I know. And now, broke, busted, butt on the curb or this chair. Sooner, later? Better The Devil You Know.

575 Days Without B III, Day 016 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 055 ~V, Hiding B’s Things~

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Virgil hasn’t found B’s favorite hiding spot. I’m having a hard time hiding B’s things that I don’t want V touching. Yesterday we weren’t able to hide from “family.” The best of which is gone. Or reincarnated into a furry body. V, Hiding B’s Things

Thursday, August 25, 2022

Saga 055 ~V, Hiding B’s Things~

571 Days Without B III, Day 012 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? The most I can say about today is I’m hiding from money… And Humiliations Galore

In preparation for when I can’t, I talked to you yesterday, which WILL be “The 1st Of Tha Month.” If I haven’t told you before, time can be a bitch. Of course, you learned that, seeing as how you left me for HER. I’m sorry, B, I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but I’m hot, horny, and headed back to sleep as though this existence depends on it. Existence? B III, it’s going on twelve days now. And I still don’t know who I’m talking to. It’s why Virgil isn’t sitting with me at the moment. As I said, I explained a bit of this yesterday, the 24th, so I wouldn’t have to on the 1st. To exist in secrets, silence, from sin. Existence hidden

For the most part, yesterday. I’m hot because the A/C’s busted again, so I had to text your grandpa and his friend. Anyway, he’s looking for the air filter, which we still haven’t found, and as I said, “in the future.” It wasn’t that shit was a mess, the secrets strewn about, or the sex toys. B, it’s the fact that your grandpa found Virgil and dares to think someone can take my son’s place. Not now, Triple B, and not ever. But are you him, is V you? I ask. I’m still mad about your pillow, which was my fault. I keep your bed and your favorite toy far away. Or so I try. Virgil sniffed it once; he knew better. You died there.

The bed’s never been washed, Braxton. Never will. With what happened to the pillow… Other things I’m hiding from? Yep making any cash. But next week’s already fucked up! I wish I could hide the bed from myself. As if we haven’t fallen asleep on the couch, B III. Is there a way to cover up Virgil’s fear of everything? Hell! He’s known me for twelve days. Well, you’ve known me for 15 years. More? He’s not my son… Dare Virgil, aspire to become you? Braxton, that’s way too much to ask anyone. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you always and forever. If anything, I need to find this damn air filter. But to burn, feel Treachery’s freeze… V, Hiding B’s Things.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 052 ~Good Night, Several Perfect Days~

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

Monday, August 22, 2022

Saga 052 ~Good Night, Several Perfect Days~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Fourth Rule

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 048 ~B’s Pillow, V’s Fight~

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Last week I spoke of money. I need a new pillow, and even if it’s the same as the old one, it won’t be B’s or even V’s. A new bed, collar, bowls for food and water, toys. As for me? Pants to keep on when I’m stressed. B’s Pillow, V’s Fight.

Thursday, August 18, 2022

Saga 048 ~B’s Pillow, V’s Fight~

564 Days Without B III, Day 005 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine is just beginning, and I have so much to ponder. 99 Problems. But pillows.

Shall we start with the obvious… “What the Hell are you talking about? Who are you talking to?” Are you somewhere in Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, or warm in Hell? Or are you lying right here next to me? I swear I keep coming up with more reasons for Virgil. Then again, if this is you beside me, he can’t walk up the stairs. I’m already so tired, B III. He hacks every time I try and touch him. Do you recall how I had to get your heart meds? And I did mention being exhausted. I have to watch Virgil, or you like a hawk around the house. I don’t have any trust at all. Which led to two problems yesterday and this morning.

And why I’m so mad. Last night V or you had an accident on your pillow. So I thought I’d try to wash it. And well, as you can see. My heart broke, and I cried over dinner, B III. Well, the stress got to me this morning. Between a girl in pink panties and a video game… FUCK! I’m back to day one when I was on Day 27. Your Dad’s quite pathetic. Did I mention I’m also broke? It’s M Anime’s birthday. Happy Birthday, M Anime! But you never met her B. If this is you beside me, you could meet her one day. If not, well, never. Yet I don’t think of her as your aunt. Talk about women and “dirty pillows.”

So we’ve had references from “The Truman Show” and now “Carrie.” V or you and I have yet to watch a movie together. It’s only been 5 days. Instead of crying or what I did this morning… Hell! I would have been better off shopping for pillows, but I’m looking. As always, I want to go back to bed. Which I did for a while. When I woke up, somebody needed a bathroom break. If anything, I need a break period from my Republican ideas. “Send him back, send him back!” I go back and forth. Only how could I do that to you if this is you? The pillow is trashed, and I’m hiding the bed. Laying down or fighting? B’s Pillow, V’s Fight.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

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

Monday, August 15, 2022

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Third Rule

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 041 ~Bills… B Ain’t One~

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New A/C fix… God knows, but my father will be calling me today. Celebrating, helping, enticing a friend… $250 to $500. Um? Putting my best friend in a “doggie bag” $779.56. Not counting a can of dog food, two chains, and frames. “Bills… B Ain’t One.”

Thursday, August 11, 2022

Saga 041 ~Bills… B Ain’t One~

557 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I hate to tell you this, but my day starts with my son is dead.

Did God ever think that? Does it keep him/her/it up at night? Well, instead, in my case, it makes me drift off like a baby. I doubt I’d gotten any shuteye if it wasn’t that thought. Which explains why I’m dressed and sitting on the loveseat instead of naked in bed. Braxton, do you know the price on your handsome little head? From Jan 29 to Jan 31, 2021, it was $779.56. If it’s any consolation, most of those were tests and keeping you alive “Another Day.” God, I hate those words. But it’s been a while since I’ve felt this horrible. No offense to women. And trust me, we’ll get to that. But it’s that “time of the month” for me, B. August, September, “Gone Till November.” FUCK ME!

To which your granddad says, “my pleasure.” Only this isn’t his fault. Hell! He didn’t charge me anything with the water heater but the A/C. I’d instead burn. Beats Treachery. M Anime would say, “I rather not.” And yet I’m going to spend tons on her birthday, Braxton. Why’s that? (In Jeff Wright’s voice) “you know why!” I should masturbate. Usually, I wouldn’t say things like that out loud. Killing you was the ultimate; you’re in trouble, so go to your room. One of the reasons I kept my hand out of my pants before. 161 days you didn’t see that after you passed, but I’m sure you know me better these 557 days gone. I’m the one in trouble now, according to the paycheck.

Let this spur me on to writing greatness. Or so, that’s what you believed. When you would sit under the dining room table waiting for me to finish yet one more novel. I’m sorry, B. You know where I’ll be today. I’ve already wasted a decade of this existence. What’s one more year, right? Hurt, Humiliations Galore, and if I’m lucky, being human. Your human. One that’s been looking for a new drug, because if it ain’t your love, or jerking off. And I’m staying far away from the drawer you rest on. Still saving me B. I look elsewhere. Cheap painkillers? It does take the edge off Triple B. Less than Triple X, zeros, days, and missing you. The Price. Bills… B Ain’t One.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

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

Monday, August 8, 2022

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Second Rule

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

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

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

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

554 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 034 ~B Willing To Bark~

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B’s has gone silent again. I don’t blame him. Novel writing is hard work, and I should have been more vocal. Hell! I should be louder at the Day Job and go all Michael Jackson. “Leave me alone. Stop it. Just stop doggin’ me around.” B Willing To Bark

Thursday, August 4, 2022

Saga 034 ~B Willing To Bark~

550 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If I could hear your answer. I wish my day was over and done with.

At the moment, it’s like old times. You know I don’t get up like this. Unless the day is going to go bad. It was a day like this when I held you in my arms and tried to rock you to sleep. A bad choice of words… but you know what I mean. This was an effed-up week. Do you miss me grumbling, griping, and growling like this? I could save it for the afternoons. As I said, I wish I was already there. If anything, I wish I was more like you. At the Day Job the other day, I was thinking. At least when my kid barked, he was helping me out. I would take your voice over everything every day, Braxton.

There’s this quote I always use in regards to you. “All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he isn’t the word of God, then God never spoke.” It remains true, Braxton. If God is love, then I could think of no better way to say it than Braxton. I’m still listening, trying. But with all the noise in the world, Baby B, I swear. When it wasn’t the silence of your death. It’s my shame I have when I walk into the Day Job. At least I’m not saying “Another Day.” It was that indifference towards my existence that ended you. Braxton, all the rage I endure that’s been bubbling up. I can’t tell you why that is. I’m your Dad.

Yes, we’re men. But there are many different, difficult, and dangerous little things to bark. Now, one of those is that I want to go back to bed. As if I’ve left it this morning for anything more than to have this conversation. The worthless discussions, Day Job. Now, as I said, my anger. I can’t tell you why but people Braxton have been driving me up the wall. Aren’t I one of them? Like that Wednesday, I came back and passed out. Blackout? I’m going to bring up that book yet again. It’s one I would share with you to a certain extent. You might sigh, scratch, or only sit there. But you were willing to live B, I know. B Willing To Bark

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 031 ~Value Having A Real Choice~

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

Monday, August 1, 2022

Saga 031 ~Value Having A Real Choice~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-First Rule

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

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

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

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

547 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will