Tale 261 ~Going Outside Is Highly Overrated~

It starts before I even get around people. One side of the fence is broken nearly completely. Another is held up with sticks and stones. And, oh yeah, the trash company took the can, and I freaked out. Back to bed? “Going Outside Is Highly Overrated”

Monday, March 18, 2024

Tale 261 ~Going Outside Is Highly Overrated~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… You can say that again, but I’d rather you didn’t, as I like this rule. A lot.

It would have helped plenty yesterday. If you’re keeping track, that would be Monday, March 11, 2024. And I’m talking to you Tuesday, March 12, 2024. So much time travel.

For example, when I created this rule, I looked to see where I was. It was Saturday, August 18, 2018. Or, as far as I can tell. And before I give myself the credit, “Going Outside Is Highly Overrated” is from “Ready Player One.” And Braxton was very much alive.

Madam, I continue to miss my B. If only I had been with B III those final weeks of January 2021. 2020 didn’t help many J. But I got to stay in. And if I had only done more, then…

Madam Justice, what’s my goal?

It’s similar to now. First and foremost, I always want to stay in this bed. Oh, because writing from here has been so lucrative. Ha-Ha! And even if I got up, then what, Madam? I write HaremLit? Am I on Eric Vall’s or Logan Jacob’s level? Please! Nowhere close, ever.

But let’s say I start living the stories I create. I’m not that horrible of a guy. I don’t think.

Anyway, look at somebody like @mosttalentedbaldman. That lifestyle, dear Madam…

Eventually, I’d like to get into a type of “reality” TV and be one of the “kings,” if you understand my meaning. The types of films with a girl going back to a bedroom. Or anywhere. But in bed. Only requires a little outside time.

I remember when I had to rush Braxton to the vet because he had spent way too much time in the great outdoors. He was dehydrated. Now, I’m trying to increase Virgil’s outdoor time, mostly so I don’t have to clean up after him. But I’m assuming he’s healed now.

Madam, going anywhere shows I’m going to mess up. Why was I so scared yesterday? Confession? The trash can went missing, and I had to talk to my Ma so she could talk to the trash company. I feel like less of a man and a failure without trash pick-up.

Agoraphobia? Add that to my Bipolar Disorder, Depression, and Social Anxiety. When was the last time I saw a doctor? Going Outside Is Highly Overrated.

1142 Days Without B III, Day 583 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 258 ~Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil~

To be continued? In this existence. I’m tempted to say those are the worst words ever written. But no, those are, Goodbye, Braxton, I love you. Then, Good Morning V. Then, people at the Day Job. And these typing fingers. “Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil.”

Friday, March 15, 2024

Tale 258 ~Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or better yet, learn English. And how about Math? Or telling time. Friday, March 8, 2024

And here we are again. First, I should let you know that Virgil is feeling better… Don’t count your chickens, right? But he’s stopped “being sick.” Only I never learn. I shared some fries with him. And considering what happened at McDonald’s. Be very afraid.

Only not of the storm outside. I can’t believe I was out there and all for a fish meal. Hmm.

This morning, you had to read all about my anger. But this afternoon, there’s fear.

Inevitable, right? Like all the mistakes I make. For example, the worst pain I’ve felt.

Watching my son die is worse than anything I’ve ever written. My Braxton is dead. Sophia, the next thing would be waking up every day. “Throw The Covers” over me.

After that? You can see what I’m doing now: writing about a future I don’t want to see. But, being honest, I am sitting in this bed waiting to die. And it hurts. Oh, how it hurts, Sophia! One more day to read and write about how much of a failure this existence has become.

Sophia, sigh, I can’t tell you what book I’m wasting my time with next. Whatever.

Learning isn’t my highest priority because every word and number makes me feel even worse about myself. Why do you think I read so much about grieving fur babies, Sophia? I get to cry, and books in the HaremLit genre get other bodily fluids out of me. I know, gross! And again, Math books… suffering. But at least I get to cry some more today.

Virgil’s not dying. But what about that trip to the groomers that I promised him?

Breaking another promise, like when I promised to save Braxton’s life. Even before that. I said that writing would be our future. And I might have time, checking my schedule…

But it’s too late for B now. And even if I wrote the best book, what would it be for? So that I could afford to pay sixteen dollars for a fish sandwich. Instead of eight and being humiliated by some McDonald’s cashier. That’s it, Lady Sophia. The End, maybe.

Because to be continued, the anger, humiliation, loss, and everything that comes with writing this existence! Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil

1139 Days Without B III, Day 580 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 255 ~Spell Manhood, B, V~

Don’t crying to your Mama. Cause you’re on your own in the real world. I swear I hear that song every day at the Day Job. And here I am, nearly 40 and ready to text mine because… You wouldn’t believe it. Where’s my pride or mind? Spell Manhood, B, V.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Tale 255 ~Spell Manhood, B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… My spelling could be called into question. My courage, too. Even this very existence, love.

But my love for you should never be in doubt despite everything. I’ll even include the loss of my son. I love you. That is the correct answer. And yet, I remain full of questions.

Since yesterday? Try, 1136 days ago. But Monday was a particularly hard one. And you know what I do with a hard one. Eww! Well, no! You like my sense of humor. And what was it that Marilyn Monroe said? If you make a woman laugh and all that. My love, I’m trying to figure out how to provide. Please! Isn’t that solved, considering billions?

Existing isn’t the problem. Living is. “We’re the ones who live.” Of course, I would be one to quote “The Walking Dead.” A dead man.

And what does that make you? My Sabriel, my Michonne, one of Jacob’s, Grayson’s, or Eddie’s girls. I swear! For my love of pop culture. I started my day reading “Backyard Dungeon 7.” Because I don’t love what’s going on outside in our backyard. Braxton?

Yeah, my firstborn would have something to “bark” about that. And what about the front…

That’s what I’ve been thinking about since yesterday. Besides Braxton, wondering where my bravery is and giving into, boo… I mean Cantaloupes. Critics and censorship can be as spoiled as our children, if not worse. But who am I to talk? Husband, Father, Owner, Man…

A Monster, Ahh! My Love…

As the song goes, “I wanna be your man.” Ha-Ha. But what Braxton sent today…

My son tried. “God” knows he tried. All the moments when I thought I had become a man. I didn’t chase those moments… necessarily. But nevertheless, they came, my love.

The first time a girl let me… I thought, yeah, I’m a man. No! It meant I officially like girls.

What about the first time I got into a fight? I’ve never been to war. But the mere act of breathing for me… Not that I mean to offend fighters, warriors, or soldiers. But my manhood? War never changes. The fight never ends. Yet I look out the window and… I want to call my Ma. Well, text because I am without courage. And manhood.

There’s you, our children, Braxton, Virgil. Spell Manhood, B, V

1136 Days Without B III, Day 577 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 254 ~Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed~

Coffin costs? I use the bed as a final resting place, anyway. If I’m not going to bother making it… In more ways than one. And since I’m dying of humiliation at the Day Job. That place “helped” end my son. If I could “Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed.”

Monday, March 11, 2024

Tale 254 ~Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But You don’t know how much I want to follow this one. Today’s Wednesday, March 6, 2024.

By the time you read this, I could have made the change. The only reason I’m even trying today is this. I promised myself a steak dinner if I talked to you, Echo, and Braxton.

Promise B anything to do with food; you’ll have his loyalty. Always and forever, Madam.

Instead, my loyalty is to sadness and sleep. I’m ashamed to admit that today, there’s been more sadness about the Day Job. And not my son? But we’ll get to that. Because the boy I lost trumps everything. Am I talking about Braxton or me being a boy at thirty-nine? Madam, sigh, we’ll talk, ok? But that’s not to say the Day Job isn’t involved with my little boy. Sometimes, it looks as if Virgil is following suit. We lie together all day, Madam J.

At least when Virgil’s here, I can’t succumb to temptation with some P.Y.T. online. Thankfully. But wouldn’t it be even easier if I got out of bed and went to lie on the loveseat instead? There’s a reason that I did most of my reading there. It gives the words “down boy” a whole new meaning… Eww! But really, when you read what I read but have a furry son…

Two words, Madam… Birth Control!!!

But it starts with getting out of this bed. I put some pants on and make the bed. That’s it.

I could work like Joe Stevens or Bingham Madsen, but for what? Uh, women, humanity? Ah! T.V. and a steak.

That’s why I’m avoiding making the bed. Or not doing it at all. I’m not going to nap, Madam J.

I’m looking for anything to avoid thinking about the new food rule at the Day Job. Do I believe I was the only one who wrapped a jacket around my waist? Or is my writing terrible? What about wearing earbuds and such? And now it’s eating chips and candy, Madam.

I sound like a broken record talking about this. And yes, I am guilty of doing these things at the Day Job. But it’s the utter humiliation of everyone seeing the rule and then me.

Madam, I wouldn’t be humiliated if I’d followed “my” rules. If I could give Braxton and Virgil better lives. So, Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed.

1135 Days Without B III, Day 576 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 251 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Rager~

Like father like son… I’m not calling 2V that. But I wanted to vomit on the notice over the time clock. And V went and vomited on the bed. Hate, like Stupidity, is an illness. I won’t pass that to V. But drowning in anger? Braxton and Virgil’s Rager.

Friday, March 8, 2024

Tale 251 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Rager~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or should I be more like the Day Job, stating rules and facts? Reading those Sophia…

It makes me feel more gross, humiliated, and angry than cleaning up after Virgil today. And for the record, I’m not mad at Virgil. But more at myself. It’s like that time I had that Buffalo Chicken Pizza from Pizza Hut. Now, that was sickening. Should I write a review?

If only there were time. How about being in the mood? There’s also the fact that I’m such a lazy… Well, you know. I’m mad at the critic, too. You heard the song Braxton sent.

“Hells Bells.” But upon reading about it, I could be wrong. Or crazy? Inevitable, right?

Because, As I’ve said on numerous occasions. I will never find Acceptance in B’s passing. So anger, once again, finding its way into my grief…

At least it’s keeping the embarrassment to a minimum. And the fact that I hear Virgil chowing down in Braxton’s room means he has no plans to join my “Lost Boy” anytime soon. But still? You remember I hid my anger from Braxton. And now Virgil is getting all sick. Would it help if I talked to Virgil about it? Better yet, don’t share chicken.

Madness, Lady Sophia. What was I thinking? It’s like me drinking alcohol. It’s good, but… Well, you can ask Braxton’s Aunt. But at least I kept all the gross stuff in until she left. Thankfully

Speaking of gross things, there is still my rage. It’s always me and the Day Job, Lady Sophia. STUPIDITY, FEAR… where does it all go?

I finished reading “Backyard Dungeon 6” this morning. But no, I won’t give you a review on that either. But now I need a new book—as if I haven’t bought several already, Sophia. Sigh.

My reading history… Like regular history isn’t supposed to be all sunshine and lollipops. And reading about a “Ray of Sunshine” that has been lost. And saying, “She’s a Ray of Sunshine” in all the other books. For the critic: reading about dogs and girls…

Sophia, I need to read books on rage. While talking to you, I even looked up one of those rage rooms. I need somewhere to put all of my wrath. Because wanting pain, hurt, and…

It’s making me sick. No Fun! Braxton and Virgil’s Rager

1132 Days Without B III, Day 573 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 248 ~Hear B, Hear V~

I don’t know what kind of man I am. But for this week, at least, I would be glad if I could be a voice. And what would I say? When did I last say I love you to anyone besides my dead fur buddy? And no one would understand it. Hear B, Hear V

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

Tale 248 ~Hear B, Hear V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… If there’s one thing, I want you to understand. It’s that I love you, Always.

We’ve only just begun to live, as the song goes. I should find another way to communicate other than with pop culture references. As if you haven’t been hearing it all this time, my love. Braxton didn’t care. He understood me in one way, but you are much different. Right.

Braxton knows me as his father. And to you, I’m a… uh… fine man. But you both know me as a friend. And I’m sure on many occasions, I was “Daddy.” Do you know what I am saying? Because that’s what’s been bothering me since last week. Not being understood.

And I don’t know how to say what I need to say. Ever. The why should be easy, my love.

I love you. That’s all.

So why do I continue to mourn and grieve for my Braxton? I don’t know how to say goodbye. You’re a testament to that as well. You’re here. That’s how we live, isn’t it, love?

I’m here, we’re here, they’re here. We all are right here. And I don’t know how to move on. I need the words to move people. Even if it’s good or bad at this point. I need to communicate. And when someone tells you, you’re inappropriate and irrelevant, my love.

Why do you keep speaking? I ask myself every time I look in the mirror. With enough money, what I say is OK. I use others’ looks in the businesses I run. But please listen.

I love you. Please understand!

But I miss my boy. I miss B III. And I don’t see why that is so hard to understand, love. And as far as 2V, my love? I took responsibility. Friendship, love, and happiness? Understand that I wish I could be the man that I once was. I don’t want to remember the child I was. And then there was Braxton. Now, I’m trying to figure out everything else.

But our love. And not only that, but anything and everything nobody wants to understand. Or it’s me. I can love plenty without loving myself. I’m ain’t happy. And I shouldn’t say I am happy for everyone else. But I’ll be glad if you’re happy, our children, Braxton and Virgil. Understand? Hear B, Hear V

1129 Days Without B III, Day 570 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 247 ~Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated~

What do I want in a woman? Criteria? When B was here, it was simply as someone he didn’t hate. When we met her, I made her a sister and his aunt. “Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?” Me or women? “Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated.”

Monday, March 4, 2024

Tale 247 ~Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like giving it the good ole college try when I talk to women. How’d that turn out?

I love my Braxton more than any woman walking the Earth. And he wasn’t complicated. But I couldn’t save B. I knew him better than any human being, but at the end of the day…

And what about Virgil. It’s been 569 days, and I can’t say I know him. Not at all. But he’s not complicated. He’s like Dante’s Inferno. It’s where he got his name, of course, dear Madam. I don’t get Inferno, but at the same time, I know it’s about a trip through Hell. Am I STUPID? You know how I feel about that word… It’s complicated. I’m pretty much the same. Or, as Taylor Swift sings, “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” Complicated? A father or a female…

Wow! In this day and age, I could go to so many places with that. Where do I need to…

Inevitable that I lose the plot of today’s lesson. It’s about women. I wonder if my critic is a man, woman, or… I don’t know what. I’m beginning to sound like one of those “people.” You know, the ones blabbing online day in and day out. I’m an old man.

Becoming a husband, a father, or any sort of a man is getting away from me as “time keeps on slipping into the future.” I keep saying it. I don’t want to be forty, Madam.

There’s a better way to say that. I don’t want to be 40, thinking, “I can’t live my life this way.” What about 39, 38, 37, 36? You don’t understand how much simpler existence was.

Back then, all the time. I would say, “I’ll marry the first girl, Braxton is nice to…” Ha-Ha! The first woman that fits the bill is more of a sister to me, B’s aunt. My tastes are so “freaking” complicated.

Today, Sunday, March 3, 2024, the critic said that “my” words are inappropriate and irrelevant. Duh! Madam, that was only me talking to the man in the mirror. Other people…

Please! What about Virgil? Or should I go all “Make Archie Great Again?” First name…

I want Braxton back. That’s easy enough to think. But the type of woman wanted. Braxton was my everything. I desire the same from women. Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated

1128 Days Without B III, Day 569 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Wil

Tale 244 ~B Takes Flight, Virgil~

Words are flying around everywhere. That’s why I’m careful with the words before my eyes. And in my ears. Says the guy reading about grieving again. And complaining about winning a book. Could I publish “my” book? Well, B’s. “B Takes Flight, Virgil.”

Friday, March 1, 2024

Tale 244 ~B Takes Flight, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… I mean it this time. Before I rotted “my” BRAIN with a phone. Before BRAXTON. BIOLOGY…

Marine Biology or something like that in high school. I had high hopes for myself back then, but even then, I knew better. I wanted to be a scientist of some sort. And now, I’m not even a good writer. And I only learned how to buy shrimp. Or grill it… in the microwave. Science, my lady. But maybe I should get to the point. If I’m not thinking about B, there are humiliations galore.

Anyway, here’s the story, my lady. So I’m sitting in Marine Biology that day, reading The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman. There’s this girl mad about something, don’t ask me what, but… She ended up snatching “my” book and hurling it at someone, and I had to retrieve it. Humiliating

It’s not much of a story. But the reason I’m thinking of it now is because of this. Instead of having a book snatched away, I had a book hurled at me today. A Kindle book. Must I be overdramatic about everything? You’re talking to the guy who believes his dead son sends him music.

Whatever. Today’s song was Black Hole Sun. And the book I was sent, “Never Be Alone” by Paige Dearth. Think of all the times I’ve thrown my name into the hat for a book. And I finally won this one.

“Maybe God Is Tryin’ To Tell You Somethin’,” as the song goes. But as I’ve said, I don’t talk to God anymore. Not since Braxton’s death. “It” had “it’s” chance.

Sophia, if I hadn’t told you before, I would say that God is a woman. Write that down right. Hmm.

That’s something that would go flying off the shelves so they could burn it. And what about everything else that I have written? Do the words go flying off somewhere? Do you see the dollars flying towards me? I see them flying away. It has been a hard week, money-wise. And who’s fault is that? Yet I want to buy more books because winning them doesn’t help with “my” mood.

Sophia, what mood am I in today? The day has only begun, and I’m careless, confused, and coming apart. And with all the rain? The only flying I’ll do today is to The Land of Make-Believe. B Takes Flight, Virgil

1125 Days Without B III, Day 566 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 241 ~Virgil Loves To B~

Ask me the type of man I want to be. A good one, godly, one that is gone? I wouldn’t leave my family, but it was the other way around with Braxton. And did I tell him to go? Not in so many words. But Virgil’s here, alive. Virgil Loves To B?

Tuesday, February 27, 2024

Tale 241 ~Virgil Loves To B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… I love being in love. But much like the Marquis de Sade’s views on lust.

Love is in everything, everywhere entire. Well, not if you’ve turned on the TV and looked at your phone. Then there’s your husband. I often compare myself to a zombie. However, I’m not “gone” yet. My boy still is —my B III. And I still feel that he’s out there.

Braxton’s love? He and I are still connected, like father, like son. As the song goes, “No, there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do. To make you feel my love.” While I’m on a musical kick, what about, “And I would do anything for love. But I won’t do that.” What?

Give up, my boy? I did, and I didn’t. I wish I could still blame my hand. But that doesn’t explain my laziness right now.

Three years ago, I was writing plenty. I wrote two tales, both for my little boy. But for what? Hmm. How often have I prattled on about B III, and you’ve been here to listen?

And it was only a year and some change. I was putting cash down to save Virgil Vivi. Saying it like that makes me think. What an insult! Since I couldn’t save Braxton. Or us?

I love you. You are my life. And if I ever get back to the Red Rising series, you’ll be my Eo saying, I must live for more. But I do live for you and our family. And yes, I make sure Virgil is still breathing. Because if something were to happen to me, love…

Would anyone even notice? Again, it’s like I’m a zombie. A time-traveling zombie. Now, that is an idea worth exploring. But not now since it’s Sunday, February 25, 2024. That means The Walking Dead is coming back. Well, “The Walking Dead: The Ones Who Live,”

Today, am I doing that? It’s a hard thing bringing back the dead. How did Jesus get it done? Oh, I can hear the holy rollers now saying he is God. And what about the whole God is love verse? And I’ll give you one more musical verse… “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.”

Or she… You’d love to bring me back as a friend, lover, husband, and father. Virgil wants to be a dog. Virgil Loves To B

1122 Days Without B III, Day 563 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 240 ~Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes~

The things I’m curious about. Where did my boy end up? How much do animal communicators charge? Can I finish speaking before 5:00 PM and get a steak dinner? Is V happy? Does my sharing food help? Uh, girls. “Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes.”

Monday, February 26, 2024

Tale 240 ~Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Or Laws. But since I don’t match the criteria of those people. Cash flow, color, criminal actions…

Hell! Here’s the facts. I’m sitting in bed on Wednesday, February 21, 2024, Madam. What about the fact that I haven’t had an energy shot all day? And what about having some fun? I told Inspector Echo that the Artificial Intelligence called out such freaky-deeky…

I’m not one to push the envelope. That’s another reason I’m not living the “Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous.” Braxton and I were… Sadly, I don’t know how to answer if B was happy.

Happy to me is a foreign concept. “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” And at this particular moment, that’s a lie. If anything, I’m hungry. And I’m curious how much money I want to waste on myself and Virgil Vivi.

To be more curious there…

Yes, I’m about to be a meanie by saying this. Virgil was not my first choice at all. Lucky, doomed? Before him, there was that one puppy that kept trying to escape the cage. And there was a brown one who I saw in a pen and I got upset. They sort of hoisted him on me a bit. Ha!

With Virgil, first, it was his lack of curiosity and sticking to discipline. He went on the paper as though it was routine. He still has some training to do after 562 days—my laziness.

Then I wondered what Braxton was saying. So, “I gotta take it on the other side.” And much like B’s death, supposed reincarnation, Virgil’s life. Curiosity killed the cat. Right?

And then I figured, what would it feel like to be a Dad again? Hell, a grown-ass man. Huh! I’m still curious, seeing I adopted/rescued Virgil in 2022. And how am I now, Madam? Are you curious how Virgil could win me? What will it take with Happiness vs. Grief?

Hell! I’m always more curious about how Cherry and M Anime look in an “adult” way. “Girl All the Bad Guys Want,” or girls judging by my search history. Curiosity…

I’m curious what dinner will be tonight. Again, I waste the cash or cook. Microwave.

Madam, I quest for knowledge on the most simplistic things. But my boys, books, and big ole… I’ll shut up.

But I want to know Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes.

1121 Days Without B III, Day 562 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will