Tale 276 ~Virgil Digs You, B…~

I’ve got hoes, or I got holes, something like that. I certainly dig one. And speaking of digging. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, people in books, my boy, or the bed I must leave before I die here. Nah! V keeps me alive because Virgil Digs You, B.

Tuesday, April 2, 2024

Tale 276 ~Virgil Digs You, B…~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But that doesn’t mean I won’t be in the doghouse. You’re mad, I’m sad, Virgil.

Dogs dig their own graves—that’s a dark thought. But I was lying here reading after I brought Virgil in. As usual, Virgil Vivi pawed on the bed and his pillow to get comfy. It made me think of my son Braxton. It’s something dogs do, digging in their bedding. Braxton stopped doing that before the end. Or at least I don’t remember it, love. Impossible! Because I want to remember every single thing about my B. Not just sadness?

Like that annoying song Boots by Leony that I listened to. Mad as all Hell as my boy lay dying. I dug my son’s grave. But not in the way I think. And I don’t mean B in his box?

Like walks, treats, and fun

Huh, fun! You and me, my love. There is a reason I went celibate for 161 days… Don’t get me wrong, baby girl. I dig you more than Resident Evil 5’s Excella Gionne or Final Fantasy VII’s Scarlet. What? With Helldivers 2 making all that noise. Your man digs games.

Can I talk about Virginia and Victra from the book Golden Son? Again, that’s what I was reading this morning. I wish Darrow would dig one of them enough, too… Well, you know. Because we’ll lie on the loveseat together or in bed as I read it to you, love.

Reading, gaming, anything at all to not show you how much I’m digging you today. Could it be that I’m just dumb and… never mind.

No! It was words like never mind, and whatever, that had me digging Braxton’s grave. To save him from my anger, I gave him my indifference. I lay in bed, not wanting to move, instead of getting up and seeing to him. I would dig in with the Day Job I hated instead of seeing to him. And now that’s the thing. I don’t want to dig anything anymore, ever.

But if I want to join my Braxton so badly, I must prepare a place for myself. Dig In! That means living and not just existing? That would be my boy talking, love, honestly. Digging into books. Digging my girl out, ha-ha. There are graves to dig. I have enemies. Myself? Virgil Digs You, B…

1157 Days Without B III, Day 598 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Lesson 094 ~Whole Lot Of World~

It all started with a hole in my shoe today but I can get new shoes, it’s words that are awfully expensive, just ask whoever makes gravestones; am I incapable of being positive? “Whole Lot Of World”, these days and I’m only seeing the ugly.

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Lesson 094 ~Whole Lot Of World~

Hey Lady Lu
No Fear, there is a whole lot of world, after all, that’s me being positive just so you know because I was thinking the lesson would be Hole In The World and that’s true as well. You know I figured I had discovered the meaning of life before, have I shared that with you… anyway since this is only a working idea for the moment, I think maybe the ‘purpose’ is to fill the holes, and there are just so many Luna.

In our own way we are all gravediggers and maybe to avoid that fate we seek lives worth remembrance, and in that we become immortal. Take myself as an example, I want to be a writer, can’t say I will ever be a good one but I want people to see my words, possibly hear them, I want them to feel those little gaps in our brain, hell I told somebody once, if there is such a thing as reincarnation, I would like to be a virus. Also, I can’t say I don’t find let’s say a “Hostel” concept to be somewhat intriguing my lady.

Today my eyes were sort of wonky and you know I had one of those weird thoughts I do, this time it was about going blind because I ate a pickle but that being said I figured if I ever did go blind just kill me. With my luck, some blind person will be offended but I thought of all the holes we have and how we are in a constant need to feel them, mouths with words, eyes with beauty, ears with voices. All of this can be done by one person, a hole in the heart perhaps, you start with one at a time isn’t that right, one person trying to get to the bottom of you perhaps.

I’m still trying to do that myself, how many times have I thought of myself as one of “The Walking Dead” and I just need to be exhumed sort of like “Warm Bodies”. There is some good news, I noticed I survived the days of Sapphire though I still feel ‘anxiety” when I hear something outside, today it was the garbage truck, not the police.

So what have I learned today, other than I should listen to something other than my own insecurities, that I should see something beautiful, other than hentai, as always I’m full of crap but there’s a Whole Lot Of World?

I Will Have No Fear

At The Age of Occasional Wellness

What’s my age again, what’s my age again, the dog and I are old men without a doubt and I wonder what his life goals were, better his than mine, because he at least has a chance I suppose? “At The Age of Occasional Wellness”

What big I’s you got?
The better to see no one’s coming
but if you expected nothing…
At any time, you can stop
looking and maybe jot
this down to one more day of succumbing
to your greatest sin, becoming
more “hopeful” in your old age and that’s a lot

Because what big zeros you see
There aren’t a lot, quality over quantity
Honestly
know your place, keep your place and be
a shoe, and that’s not a big number, but geez
it beats your age and keeps out the laughter of this comedy
Walking away from your curiosity
Zero to hero, there’s the possibility

These words, these words, these words, big and small
might as well be on other planets
or thrown away by the force of habit
Maybe not even written at all
That is why there are so many places to fall
Oops, oh my, ow, tragic
There is no need to can it
I’d say if there were anyone to call

then what’s with all the holes
cause I got enemies, got a lot of enemies
my wishes, dreams, and quite a few deities
better known as girls, when I would rather sell my soul
for any margin of control
of my mental facilities
At the age of thirty-three
It was never a life goal

Only obeying, obtaining, obsessing over, obvious occasions occasionally okay

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.