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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~

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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~

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“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

Tale 046 ~Virgil, We’ll Be Listening~

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What big ears you have. Is the hole in the fence bigger? Is the phone loud enough.? Then there’s Virgil, who never makes a sound unless I walk out the door. How long do the neighbors have to listen to him? If I will. “Virgil, We’ll Be Listening”

Wednesday, August 16, 2023

Tale 046 ~Virgil, We’ll Be Listening~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So I haven’t been complaining about my ears, the fence, Virgil vomiting on the phone… Uh?

Hell! I should be ashamed that it took him “almost” doing that to get my attention to do something. And after a few days, how is life for him now? If anything, the fact that he’s alive after one year here. Gotcha Day wasn’t big, ha. He had a bath and brush. A new bed? No! If I’m going to spend money… It’s going towards putting my firstborn, my Braxton, in a box. And what about the new one I’m supposed to be buying? If I had money… And that would take getting out of bed. Or how about, I don’t know. Trying to be happy. Is that from B? I wasn’t happy when he was here, but I was better. And then his silence.

What I wouldn’t give for a bout of silence. If anything, shouldn’t this be the most humiliating thing in existence? The fact that I still talk to myself. Imaginary friends. Pretending? At least with Braxton, I could pretend. But even saying V’s name these days. And that’s if I’m not busy moaning… It’s more like I let the girls I watch moan in one way or another. But I’m trying, Inspector. Every day, it gets a little bit “harder.” Really! Considering I’m time traveling now, Monday, August 14, 2023. It’s been 17 days for now. That’s all the bellyaching. Or rather, belly scraping, you’ll hear from me. Not even edging. But there is plenty to be upset about since we’re talking now. The Day Job?

Can I listen to the instructions at work? Don’t be STUPID. I’m not a visual guy there. But all about the visual lady’s Yabbos, but she’s gone. At least she told me she was leaving for a time. God knows I wish I could leave forever. Take from that what you will, Echo, I know. And speaking of which, the things I’ve been saying or, more to the fact, what I’ve been writing about. Will you please understand, Inspector? My mind is about three things. There’s my boys —namely Braxton. There’s making bucks. And, of course, anything to do with making babies. Oh! These three things are like a mixed drink that “messes” me up. 99 Problems. Virgil, me, B’s ghost. Virgil, We’ll Be Listening

927 Days Without B III, Day 368 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 045 ~Virgil’s Love B…eing Determined~

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Is it too much or not enough? Love. Where is the love? That’s not hard. It was at the vet’s on Sunday, January 31, 2021. It was in ashes on February 4. And sitting on my nightstand by the 10th. Friends, Ma, uh Virgil… Virgil’s Love B…eing Determined.

Tuesday, August 15, 2023

Tale 045 ~Virgil’s Love B…eing Determined~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I love the holidays. Now… Juneteenth is not a useless holiday, Vivek Ramaswamy. Scumbag!

Or that’s what my Ma would call him when she tries not to curse ha-ha. Somebody got on me about that today, a critic, Wednesday, August 9, 2023. So yes, I’m time-traveling once again, love. But didn’t I tell Inspector Echo that it’s a miracle I can even get out of bed? At all. Ever. Hell! I’m impressed Virgil can hold his bladder that long. B was/is much the same. But seeing how this is supposed to be the future, I wonder how “Gotcha Day” went with Virgil. I was going to say B III, honest to God. I’m hoping for a good Thursday. It’s Payday. I remember when I had my old Day Job. That getting paid was a testament to a wasted existence.

There is nothing to celebrate most days. Last night, right out of the blue, I was reminded to take some time off for E-Day. Emergence, Existence, Extinction. Level Thirty-nine soon. Baby Doll, not to go all Spice Girls, “If you wanna be my lover…” But I will never accept E-Day, especially now. It wouldn’t bother me. Not in the slightest if I weren’t here for it. Seventeen? Hell, younger than that should have been the end for me. All my billions, if I could have a Terminator built… I’d want it to go all Judgment Day. “I’ll Always Love My Mama.” As I’ve talked about before. My Aunt told me that I wanted the world destroyed. No profit in that. The Talmud says something like, to save a life is to save the world entire…

Then, to take a life is to destroy the world entirely, then yes. But only me. Do I love people? First and foremost, I love my family: you, my Braxton, the pancakes we made together. There’s my Ma, the freeloader living in the house… I should stop calling Virgil that. There’s a fondness for “my” little sister and my nephews. What about my “father” ha… A reason I want to make our billions. There are friends, B’s Aunt Carolina, M Anime, Cherry, Special K, I could go on. Really? Love Overflows, Overwhelms, and Omits me. It’s like “Me Before You.” I get up for Braxton’s memory, the love of a good woman; my children need their Daddy. Drink or Drown, Jigsaw. Virgil’s Love B…eing Determined.

926 Days Without B III, Day 367 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 039 ~Virgil, Braxton Aged Out~

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I’m getting too old for this shit. To be living off my Olds. The kids will be on my lawn as the fence falls. When was the last time I got laid? I can’t afford to be a sugar daddy. Fur kids and Depression. But how can that be? Virgil, Braxton Aged Out

Wednesday, August 9, 2023

Tale 039 ~Virgil, Braxton Aged Out~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And other lies I don’t want to hear. Hell! The truth, too. Be positive, happy, thirty-eight.

Because thirty-nine is fast approaching. And what am I going to do with that? I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but does Ron DeSantis have a point about Shakespeare? I’m thinking Romeo + Juliet, to be honest. There’s Thirteen Reasons Why’s “Hannah Baker” and Robert Frobisher from Cloud Atlas. Three teens and a grown-ass man. What did they do? Love? Getting screwed over, literally. Must I be so vulgar? And the world’s coming down. The last few mornings, I have awoken with more tears than usual, Inspector. The thought? Can I say it already? Well, according to my critic, I can’t. EVER! I’m learning to hate reading and writing again. What I read makes me cry, and what I write makes other people. I suck!

And don’t I sound like some teenager? Braxton was fifteen, which is all grown up. Inspector that’s going by fur buddy standards. I doubt I have such resolve to stay. Inspector. Braxton fought tooth and nail to stay. Why can’t I do the same? Exhaustion… The fence is ready to give way any second. How old is it? I think I was thirty-two when Braxton and I moved here… No! I’m sorry. We were placed. Living with my Olds. Sad. While I’m speaking like an old white guy, Mr. Trump. Problems of the past are rushing into the future. To see black people fight against that tide. Montgomery Riverfront Brawl. Meanwhile, I’ve been at my Day Job for how long? If not my Dad. Braxton…

The Day Job would be another good reason not to get up again. Echo, it’s incredible that I can do that with this mattress. Yet where am I right now? Why don’t I leave today? Looking at the clock, it’s past eight, meaning Virgil needs to go outside. The fence? Inspector, I was about to say these glasses are old, but these are only from a year ago. The old ones? Yeah, the ones I had when I would look upon my son. What must I look like now to him? I’m older but no wiser. Because again, something from last year, uh, that’s V. His Gotcha Day is Sunday. So, Petsmart on Saturday? Maybe? The shame, like Braxton dying, remember? Virgil, Braxton Aged Out

920 Days Without B III, Day 361 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 038 ~Daddy’s Back, Braxton, Virgil~

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919 days, and I’m so tired. Excuse? I’m adulting. Or I could be nothing more than a Lazy Ass. I waste time on… Stuff and Thangs. But I’m still walking that path. The office where Braxton died to the front door. Daddy’s Back, Braxton, Virgil

Tuesday, August 8, 2023

Tale 038 ~Daddy’s Back, Braxton, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which should mean people are happy to see me. Braxton was/is always. Virgil? Don’t be scared.

But aren’t I always? Considering I’m time-traveling. Today is Sunday, July 30, 2023. So, a week and some change. I’m afraid I’ll return, and Virgil Vivi will be covered in whatever sickly mess he’s made. Or that he’s eaten it… Never Going Back Again. Gross! I imagine I’ll see that Braxton has returned to me. That’s when I’m not dreaming about some woman at the old Day Job. Or some “adult starlet” in the name of business. There is always my Braxton. You would figure I would hate going back to sleep. One more reason I love it so much. To be back with him or at least not in a world without him. Lying on my back, I can look to Heaven above (sigh).

And then there’s you, my love. When was the last time the two of us… Again, I’m looking towards the future, but at this moment. Yeah, I’m some holy roller. Sort of. Matrimony and all that, I only want to lay here with you. The world keeps passing me by. Only I can’t blame you for wanting to go out and enjoy it. Talk about something that scares me, love. That one day, I’ll see your back, and that will be it. Death, depression, and divorce borne out of this disease known as grief. Ok, you know how I feel about diseases and dying, hmm. “They were all in love with dyin’,” as the song goes —only me. I don’t want the kids following me.

I want them to live. The same as I wish for Braxton and Virgil, but how did that turn out? Virgil is alive, but he’s two. Braxton was on the cusp of sixteen. And our two-legged kids, my love? I remember my “big sister” telling me, you can’t do my kind of business near a school. Of course not. But it’s not me coming back from work. Work? Please! (Smiles). Didn’t I tell someone today I better not smile? And that had nothing to do with grief for B III. I’m surprised that didn’t have you running for the door or coming in —a miracle. Someday, I’ll come back from the vet’s Sunday, January 31, 2021. A machine, dead man, human? Daddy’s Back, Braxton, Virgil.

919 Days Without B III, Day 360 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 032 ~To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers~

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“I want a new drug.” Not anesthetizing like the Day Job. That’s if I’m not sweating bullets with my anxiety. And there’s bloody zombie movies. Turning “mountains” into snow-covered peaks… Eww! Or crying my eyes out over B. To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers

Wednesday, August 2, 2023

Tale 032 ~To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But the last “drinks” I bought were for Braxton’s Aunt. She knows I’m a lightweight drinker.

Plus, despite everything, I’ll wallow in my grief and depression; thanks, Inspector. I end up crying five out of seven days anyway for various reasons. Braxton, for the most part. I am still considering again; I am time traveling. Today is Monday, July 24, 2023, so I talked to Madam J. And “Dear Future Wife” earlier. Talk about Chronomentrophobia. More like Chronophobia. I don’t even remember who I was talking to about that (sigh). Anyway, we’ll get to that. All I know is, at the moment, I want to drink until I pass out. Braxton is as good of an excuse as any. What if V fell down the stairs where he now sits? With me as a “friend,” he could use a drink, right?

But know this. Dear Inspector, the only one who needs or deserves any “pain” in their existence is me. And yes, I know, I’ve been quoting this Taylor Swift line plenty. “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” The last thing I need to do is start drinking. If I want to throw up, I’ll go to Pizza Hut. Inspector, I’m surprised I can even get anything into my mouth. The way I’ve been spittin’ these days. Hell! I should say spitting, considering how pathetic I’ve been. The Critic? They’ve been quiet. Again, I’m time traveling, so by the time they read this… Inspector, I will be in no mood to care, considering I’ll be sweating bullets. Dangerous… Let’s focus on work and my overwhelming anxiety. Effing Day Job.

I want to cry every time I bother to look at the clock. I swear, next to the Man In The Mirror. There are those red numbers on the clock. I jump whenever I hear the phone go off. If it’s not a Facebook hacker, then it’s some alarm I’ve set to keep me moving. Being productive? The mirror, phone, the Day Job, uh Virgil. Why am I being a meanie, Echo? It’s like things that make me burst into tears for 500. Blood, sweat, and tears? What else, let me see… Better yet, NOOOO! NO! Because some girl is going to make the list. Then… Chances are I’ve broken, but again, who knows? Is alcohol a better vice? You think? To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers

913 Days Without B III, Day 354 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will