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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 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 067 ~Bye Braxton, Buy Virgil~

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I was pretty young, buying my first Fleshlight, a camera, and… well, I must have been. Now, I’d have to have express delivery for anything I want for E-Day. Not like Heaven… or Hell delivers. The Olds have bad news. V’s quiet. Bye Braxton, Buy Virgil

Wednesday, September 6, 2023

Tale 067 ~Bye Braxton, Buy Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or should I call myself a thief? Inspector, I’m far worse. A liar, a manipulator… murderer?

“Why can’t I just be normal?” Can’t I play Far Cry 5 or watch a movie as E-Day approaches? Um? I could buy a PS5. I didn’t say that? And even if I were for real, I wouldn’t make time to play it. I’m not even watching “Home Security Guard 2” after downloading it. Inspector, it’s still Sunday, September 3, 2023. I’m still “Turning Japanese,” I really think so. But we’ll get to that. I keep saying that, Inspector, and there’s Emergence Day. God, I wish I could say more about this existence. And you know what I want more than Braxton back. Extinction? But no, Inspector, I’m sitting here napping, procrastinating, etc. At least Virgil’s still alive and well. I paid for Braxton’s… Euthanasia.

But let’s talk about what I’ve been buying on the second worst day existing, Inspector. As I’ve said, I’ve been looking at what the critic likes and dislikes: languages sometimes. Anyway, I don’t know who I’m paying. Russians, Japanese, the greedy Republicans with their “kinks.” Either way, I’m not a good person. Hell! I’m even keeping my pants on, ha. There’s this place right here. I’m sitting in bed, not working on escaping the Day Job. But I want to talk. And I want the critic to say whatever about my speech, even with corrections. And I mentioned something about some nasty chicken I bought, but it wasn’t Pizza Hut. I don’t expect Braxton’s Aunt to buy me a pizza for E-Day again. Good girl.

I don’t want to think about what I will buy on E-Day. When Braxton was here, there was always food and even cake. There could be a full night’s sleep, Inspector. Though being the greedy so-and-so I am, I always want more. Emergence, Existence, Extinction, uh? Anytime would be good to join my boy. And with what the Olds might say about their son at thirty-nine that has done absolutely nothing with the existence they permitted… Inspector, I am afraid. That’s something else I can’t get for E-Day. Love and happiness, peace of mind, Echo. There’s also the idea of a piece of… again, the critic, censorship, and cowardice. Inspector, I can’t say goodbye or buy my way out of this. Time remains priceless, Inspector.

948 Days Without B III, Day 389 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 066 ~I’ll B Home Virgil~

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I’m unsure of the day my Braxton entered the world, so I gave him one. But the day he left it… It was the worst day ever. Second is the day I came into the world. And being unfortunate enough to stay 39 years… I’ll B Home Virgil.

Tuesday, September 5, 2023

Tale 066 ~I’ll B Home Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but like when I was in the womb, I haven’t planned on leaving here anytime soon.

I’m glad it’s not E-Day yet. And the kids are at school. There’s also the fact that I’m time-traveling. It’s Sunday, September 3, 2023, at this particular moment. I’m thirty-eight. Today, that’s about 14,240 days. Looking at that makes me want to “Scream?” “Tonight I Wanna Cry.” Looking at the “Man In The Mirror,” I tell him that you “Make Me Wanna Die.” Am I making my playlist for E-Day, or what? Hell! I even yearn for B III’s passing. No! Not like that. I was a horrible “human being” when it came to the life of B III. Emergence, Existence, Extinction Day, though, is all about me. And first and foremost, I want to stay here, home. And I don’t have that luxury anymore.

I know I’m being like a heartless so-and-so. Oh Love! I want to say bad words. But there’s you, the kids, Virgil… the critic. Ha! And today, second only to B III’s passing away (sigh.) Soy un perdedor. I swear my critic is making me better with languages. While Japanese seems to be a no-go. You know words like “Security Guard.” Maybe Spanish works better? English though? If I could say what I want from this horrific day. Always and everything. That would be my son back. Love to this very moment, I’m neither in Denial nor would I claim Acceptance. I know the truth. Braxton Barks Bradford died. And if I had my way… “If I had my way, then surely you would be closer,” you sing to me.

I’ll be here to listen. I’ll learn how to dance. And to be quite honest, um, I “Feel Like Making Love.” After everything I’ve said today, what are the odds of that? Do I want to play Han Solo? Hell! We could have a movie night right here because, again, to go outside and do… what? My Ma took me to a restaurant once where they sang Happy… Oh No! But yes, I will be polite to our children. Is it sad? I have to say that. Virgil’s living here. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others, as Somni 451 said. Unfortunately leaving… That led me here. But I love you, our kids. Me? I’ll B Home Virgil

947 Days Without B III, Day 388 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 060 ~E-Day Fools Virgil, B~

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I meant to explain what E-Day is? Hell! I can’t explain why I get out of bed in the morning. I’d like to say for fifteen years, it was because Braxton needed me to. Or my Olds said so. There’s Virgil. He’s still alive, I exist. E-Day Fools Virgil, B.

Wednesday, August 30, 2023

Tale 060 ~E-Day Fools Virgil, B~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Which means I don’t have to EVOLVE. Republicans haven’t. And you know what B stands for…

Emergence? Wait, that doesn’t start with a B. But instead of talking about Braxton’s death. Let me be a selfish “person” since it’s my day. Well, counting today, it will be in T-minus 9 days. Then again, I’m time-traveling. And I’ve already screwed up with my critic on being clear, concise, and making my case. The comedian is dead. I should be, but here goes…

What is E-Day? Again, let us begin with Emergence and why I won’t vote Republican. With women, I’m Pro-Choice. Let women do whatever they want. But with my Ma… sigh. Come E-Day, she should have done some thinking. And that’s an insult, I know, Inspector. Both me and my younger sister were C-sections. She wanted us here alive and well.

Existence for me, though… If I had my way… I would not recommend it. Like ever. I try my hardest not to say words like life or live. That is not what this is, Inspector. Questions such as What is my favorite movie, set of mammaries, type of music, etc., Echo. I couldn’t tell you any of it. But right above that line, “Funny when you’re dead how people start listenin'” from The Band Perry. There’s “Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal” from Marina and The Diamonds, Teen Idle. And God, I know Inspector, turning thirty-nine. And what have I done? Or rather, why have I done nothing but exist, Inspector? My greatest accomplishment was my son Braxton. I thought I was being selfish today. Right?

Extinction though? Erasure, euthanasia… Hell! Evil! My boy should be here. And how dare I even think that he was the lucky one. I don’t disrespect my Ma, Little B, and how about myself. Uh. I disrespect myself all the time. But I don’t get off light Echo, not ever. I’m not a man of faith, but as the song goes, “Everybody wanna go to heaven. But nobody wants to die.” I want to Inspector. But this is Hell, and I am right where I belong. Only I cry out, “What’s my crime!” Which is worse? I was around seven or eight, asking, “What the Hell is going on?” Or killing my best friend at thirty-six?” Doesn’t matter; I’m still breathing. E-Day Fools Virgil, B

941 Days Without B III, Day 382 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 059 ~ It’ll B Fun, Virgil~

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I woke up this morning… and? Do I want a prize, a medal, even another breath. Well, I don’t want that breath for me. If I had my way, um, besides the things I want to do to my wife or to have another cry over my dog, no, my son. Existing. It’ll B Fun, Virgil

Tuesday, August 29, 2023

Tale 059 ~ It’ll B Fun, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so we’re supposed to be having fun. Most holidays work that way. Even the most solemn…

Not that E-Day in any way, shape, or form is a holiday. Before 2021, I would have called it the worst day of my Existence. Emergence, Existence, Extinction. Time-Traveling Love. Today is Saturday, August 26, 2023. But you know what day I remain trapped within. Sunday, January 31, 2021, is the new worst day. The day I lost my firstborn son, the prince, pup, and pancake known as Braxton. Then again, I would rather have that day than E-Day. At least then, I wouldn’t be a selfish so-and-so. Psychiatric help, my critic said. If I could only remember the day that Braxton hopped in the car. Or when we were “placed” in our first house. The day he jumped into my arms. That is Love.

Those were causes for celebration. But now I look at the days ahead of me… Well, if anything, if you knew how far along I was talking to you… I mean, for real. Turning thirty-nine. It’s not the least bit funny. But I’m supposed to have fun. It’s more for everyone else, though, I’m afraid to say. I’ve been listening to these meditations on loneliness. I have you, I know. And I won’t dare compare myself to Will Traynor in “Me Before You.” And yet. Paralyzed. Every day, my Love. I keep moving, and at the same time, I’m trapped. Braxton’s still lying in his bed on that table, and I’m holding him, and then you go all Jurassic Park, Love. Life finds a way.

Love will find a way. I have the day we met. Better, the day that I made you my wife. There’s the day I figured I would try being a father again. I look at V and still sigh. I have to question what at all I was thinking. Was/Is it Braxton? He’d know better than to mention E-Day, but yeah… “Daddy, pick that one. I can’t make this more black and white.” 2V and his three little black spots. Comedy comes in 3’s, I heard before, my Love. And how many two-legged kids do we have around here? They want their Daddy happy. It’s not like they’ll pay me half a million for an E-Day I don’t want. You say… It’ll B Fun, Virgil

940 Days Without B III, Day 381 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 053 ~B’s DIE Job Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

So much red ink in school. Gray hairs in my beard… I’m too old to have my Olds signing checks for me. The most official thing I’ve signed is for the death of my firstborn son. And his little tan hairs are replaced with white ones. B’s DIE Job Virgil

Wednesday, August 23, 2023

Tale 053 ~B’s DIE Job Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’d say anything or do anything… Other than saying my boy’s dead or killing him…

Again? But as I approach thirty-nine, that’s the only thing I can hold as an accomplishment —the stuff on “my” Bucket List. I want to be in love. And I want to know what It’s like to kill… thank you, Eli Roth. Am I better off than The 40-Year-Old Virgin… There have been girls. A lot… Why aren’t I a billionaire already? And have I paid for sex? Do I need a priest? Uh, we’ll get to that Inspector. But on the subject of death. The only one that’s come close to my wrath looks at me in the mirror every morning. Why are we talking about this this morning? Afternoon, considering time travel. Today is Thursday, August 17, 2023. But on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Braxton’s Fire and Blood.

Must I be so dramatic? And as if I could be like George R. R. Martin. Aren’t I a writer? Inspector, this whole damn month, I’ve felt like “Comic Book Guy” on The Simpsons. Oh!

How many days have I spent writing, and for what? It’s not fear, Inspector… Laziness. This is one more reason I’m not a doctor. Well, a scientist. Suppose you asked me for specifics besides me being STUPID. Inspector, I’ve looked into Virology. Zombie Virus? Solanum? Maybe I do need a priest. But I would never become one. Once upon a time, someone said I would become a preacher. I only had a use for God with two things, you know. To save my son. And for sex… How’s the brothel?

I’m not ashamed of saying I wanted to be Dennis Hof, Hugh Hefner, Larry Flynt. A particular photographer. Or The Most Talented Man In The World, Johnny Sins. My God! Inspector, what am I going to do? I still have a few weeks if I’m lucky. Will my Olds call? I wouldn’t blame them at all. My entire 30s have been one freaking disappointment, Echo. Hell! This existence. What am I, Inspector? The only comfort Braxton had was my love. And that only gets you so far. Again, look to my Olds. A son with a part-time Day Job who writes. All their checks vs. my words. One last job? Ruin me and Braxton’s existences. Virgil’s here, white hairs replacing brown/beige/tan. B’s DIE Job Virgil

934 Days Without B III, Day 375 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 052 ~Virgil’s Lovely Days B~

WillLeave a comment

“The sun is up, the sky is blue. It’s beautiful, and so are you.” My idea of a lovely day watching movies with B and one of his favorite girls in the world. Or waking up in some big fluffy pillows. Hell! Let B stand on my head. Virgil’s Lovely Days B

Tuesday, August 22, 2023

Tale 052 ~Virgil’s Lovely Days B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m always on the phone or reading a book, regardless of where I am… existing.

I’m always thinking about Braxton. I imagine so many ways I’d like to wake up Baby Doll. Allow me to get my inner Quagmire on AHEM “Giggity.” Anyway, I get up every morning knowing my son isn’t here. B III would either lie on my head to cover the alarm sounds. Or he would be stepping on my face because he needs to go out right now; what I wouldn’t give to have those days back. You, our children, being famous, our billions? “How Long Will I Love You?” How much do I love you? Always and forever. With all that, I am and more. And that leads me to what I’ve been thinking about these past days. E-Day? Death? And now, with Time Travel.

Today is Thursday, August 17, 2023. And I’m not dead yet. “I’m still breathing,” love. God knows at the old Day Job how I wanted to fall off a ladder or be crushed under some boxes. And with understanding “This Is America,” there are some “Dumb Ways To Die.” But I didn’t back then. And now? As I said, this man loves all that you are and more. What we are and will be. Only there was more of me, my love. Resurrection. Necromancy. My B. How I wish I had given him better days. A last day? Hell! Braxton should be here at eighteen. THEY say today is a good day to die. But as I was telling my boy, there’s always more Yabbos.

I’m sure he’s looking down on me from somewhere and saying, “Hey, Dad, comfy spot.” Whenever I was able to hug up next to you, my love. Or when the kids come and lie down on us. He’s saying, “You could be all soft and gentle, I remember.” Someday? Virgil will have a good day where he’s not scared and can feel all “Safe & Sound” after 374 days. Even now, I can’t tell you what a good day might look like for him. It’s not like I’m looking forward to lovey days myself. Again, we’re talking now as each day moves closer to E-Day. Emergence, Existence, Extinction. Desperation, Depression, and yes, Despondence. I’m sorry, love, we’re all looking forward to Virgil’s Lovely Days B.

933 Days Without B III, Day 374 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will