Saga 207 ~ Virgil’s Holiday From B~

E-Day. That’s the second worse day of existence. Um, Thanksgiving. But nowhere near as big when Braxton was here. And possibly New Year’s. But next week this day is a holiday. A memorial. Only I’m not alone, but I want to be. Virgil’s Holiday From B.

Tuesday, January 24, 2023

Saga 207 ~ Virgil’s Holiday From B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But as the song goes, “money can’t buy me love.” Free me from Hate? Horniness? Happiness?

Um, it got my B a trip to Heaven or wherever. It’s this time next week I’ll Hate the most. A permanent vacation. A holiday away from me. And I’m sure you can relate, love. Reason number whatever we’re talking about today, Monday, January 23, 2023. It feels like I’m working the old Day Job all over again. Tomorrow I rather not be bothered. Next week? I don’t hate my family, ever. It’s not Virgil either though he’s becoming a brat. As I said so many times, it’s not veterinarians, old age, or even the disease that took my boy. “I choose me, and I know that’s selfish love.” Yes, more music. You know, I still need to pick a song on Spotify. Twenty-Four days.

But there are some things you can’t get away from, you know. Another song, love? Fucking Enrique Iglesias “You can run, you can hide, but you can’t escape my love.” Loving someone never takes a holiday but liking them… Whatever and I going to do with Virgil? I’m ashamed that this time has crept up on me and when next week rolls around, love… When was the last time I cried for Braxton? These might be my first tears for today. Come the 31st; I want to eat barbeque and watch dog movies. Even Spontaneous, sadly. Hell! I did read “A Dog’s Journey.” So I could watch the film now. (Cringes). Uncomfortably? I remember the book, that was all kinds of… Who cares; Braxton’s dead.

Always the worse pain imaginable. There’s no escape, and no, I can’t give it a rest. But I know you would never say that. And crazy? Well, knowing V ain’t B. I’ve been reading up on animal communicators. I could try and find one and see what happens. I could see where Virgil stands vet-wise. When I went to Braxton’s Aunt’s wedding, I boarded B III for a few days. It couldn’t hurt to send Virgil away for two days to honor my son. Would that be honoring Braxton? And what about our family? I’m not going out for smokes. The 31st of all days. When I’ll be the most alone. I want to be. Anywhere but being loved and happy. Virgil’s Holiday From B

723 Days Without B III, Day 164 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 352 ~Good And B Days~

I’ve never been one for holidays. I hate my birthday, I’m sure I forgot my “father’s” this week and the last holiday Braxton, and I could have had… Hell, I didn’t even buy him another plushy. “Good And B Days,” good on Juneteenth, but where’s B again

Friday, June 18, 2021

Gospel 352 ~Good And B Days~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and there’s plenty I want to do. Bring Braxton back, buy an island, make a holiday.

I should say something about Juneteenth. Could I get the COVID vaccine today to celebrate freedom or Saturday, hmm? Um, yep, I woke up late again today but then again, so did Texas. Am I cracking jokes, Lady Sophia? Is today awfully good, awesomely bad? Any day B had food in his mouth was good for him; Thanksgiving, Christmas, B-Day. Let’s start with Thanksgiving, which to him was his Christmas. My Ma always sends something over, which would mean plenty of sharing. Now, aren’t I terrible because I did to Braxton what SOME did to the Native Americans? One good meal, a disease, and a trail of tears ever since. Have I offended you yet? To think history was once my favorite subject Lady Sophia.

Like having Christmas Brunch with my Olds, of course, that was when B III and I still lived with them. When we “moved out,” most holidays became a distant memory. Can I use not giving Braxton something else to pee on as an excuse? I didn’t get him a gift. Sophia, how many times have I told that story of our last Christmas? We spent it here, no Santa, no sleigh, a relatively Silent Night. It wouldn’t be if we were ever invited to brunch again, or do I have that wrong? We would be deaf by the end as he barked up a storm. What I wouldn’t give to hear that bark again. It’s July, but I’ll feel about Christmas as Sheldon Cooper does.

Or how about Leonard on his birthday? You know how I feel about my “Emergence Day.” Braxton and I never made a big deal out of my Emergence or his Birth. I don’t even remember celebrating it. Not until it was only Braxton and me, leading to a problem. Okay, so I’m a broken record, but we never knew the exact day. Well, our lonesome vet appointments began in February. I know on the fifteenth that’s half-price chocolate day and a cleaning nightmare. I didn’t have a lover on Valentine’s, so the thirteenth was practical, his birthday. Braxton has refused to eat twice in his life. So Braxton overate on his birthday once. Then on the last days before his death. Good And B Days.

138 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Episode 159 ~When’s Your Holiday Will~

If I could take back everything I’ve said to women, that includes my first cry because I’ve been offending them ever since, how about when Santa lost his way here, and if I ever wake up rested and happy, shocker? “When’s Your Holiday Will?”

Friday, December 7, 2018

Episode 159 ~When’s Your Holiday Will~

Hey Lady Sophia,
How To Make One Million Dollars, don’t live in infamy, it doesn’t help you win wars, (Japan), money and women are questionable (Marquis de Sade), and even if you’re proven right, “what’s next” is far stranger than “The End” right (Joseph Seed)? So am I saying become President, what was that about infamy, how about becoming a pornstar, working for FOX News, or even *gasp* a writer, you can always make money off some holiday spirit right?

Infamy, a day that will live as such, how many of the brave died this day so many years ago; I know you’re asking why do I even bring up something like Pearl Harbor, it’s not like I’m doing anyone a service but one more reason I’m a writer, I don’t want to forget. I’m not a great man, a good one, hell sometimes I judge if I’m even alright, especially when it comes to writing but for this moment in time, hell anytime I find myself sitting here, talking to you, any of the girls, the man in the mirror, writing a novel or poem I’m free. Isn’t that worth celebrating, every day I make a choice but here’s the thing and I’ve said this before, things we don’t learn from history we’re doomed to repeat; is that why I’m always writing about the end, something like Kylo Ren:

“The Empire, your parents, the Resistance, the Sith, the Jedi… let the past die. Kill it, if you have to. That’s the only way to become what you are meant to be.” The Last Jedi

You know I don’t celebrate holidays… my “birthday” in itself made me someone I didn’t want to be; alive, talk about a day I would erase, and then there are the days I can’t, the 5th of November, July 2nd, whenever the Harmonic War began. Seems almost tradition that the worse days of my life always revolve around a girl, even now my work schedule is done by one, I have several women who text me (not that I’m mad about that). I can’t remember when I did my first novel which wasn’t for NaNoWriMo; when’s the last time I got a full night’s sleep, and again with the women when was my last one or first one, long time.

When you can’t remember the day you lost happiness, would you recognize it, hell I remember the last time I had ah, a “release” and every day I resist is a victory not that I can celebrate this week, already failed #1. Even talking to Dear Future Wife my thoughts focus more on the present than the future but you want to know when I’ll party; September 1st when I have my first million, and hopefully I won’t be lying here on December 7th asking again, When’s Your Holiday Will?

I Will Have No Fear