Tag: Knowledge

Tale 279 ~Booking Braxton and Virgil~

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Maybe I don’t have two-legged kids yet because I read too many stories that have me bawling my eyes out. Have college guys looking at boobs. Or are full of blood and heads being bashed in or cut off. Fairytales? “Booking Braxton and Virgil”

Friday, April 5, 2024

Tale 279 ~Booking Braxton and Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But it won’t be a happy one. I’m never HAPPY. I’m still HERE. And my HERO…

Must I always start with my son? Couldn’t I, for once, start with somebody like Darrow from Golden Son? For the record, I’m glad I got through the chapters I did this morning, Lady Sophia. Instead of crying over B III, I was sweating as Darrow got out of trouble.

But my hero, my boy Braxton, is gone. What? Didn’t I channel him yesterday, Sophia?

Do I ever become bored with the same old stories? With my Braxton… No! Never! However, I didn’t listen to Succubus Lord 6 as planned. Instead, it was Satan’s Sorority Girls 2. If it helps, they are both written by Eric Vall. When I get paid… (laughs wildly). $0.41 Raise

Anyway, I want more audiobooks, earbuds, and a speaker. Ha-Ha

That’s why I won’t be finishing Golden Son by Saturday. I’m swamped reading about failure. Last night and earlier this morning, I was learning about how terrible of a writer I am. A.I. told me so. My words would have made, let’s say, a particular community proud. I have nothing against said community, but don’t ask me to read something like Shiver ever again. Braxton and I were all about the ladies. However, I didn’t read Braxton Barks that stuff.

Today has been about reading or counting what’s left from the tax refund check. That would be $465.00. Sophia, then you can take the sum of the house money from that. Then, having to eat. Burning books? Never! But the money is burning a hole in my pocket. Then Virgil?

Again, like Succubus Lord and Satan’s Sorority Girls, it’s the same guy with a similar idea, but it’s SAID differently. Even Darrow can’t escape that problem. Eo is dead, but then there’s Mustang/Virginia. It’s a love story that becomes a war and then… not finishing.

At least not this weekend. I’ll end up reading Outbreak Rising 2, perhaps Lady Sophia. That’ll be my quota. Then back to Golden Son. Satan’s Sorority Girls 5 is out. And with Helldivers 2 taking off. There’s always Starship Troopers. How about a Player’s Guide? And what happened to the Backyard Dungeon series I’m reading? How do I fix fences?

Shouldn’t I be asking why I won’t edit Braxton’s book? Or help Virgil live his story? Booking Braxton and Virgil.

1160 Days Without B III, Day 601 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 276 ~Virgil Digs You, B…~

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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

Tale 275 ~Don’t Let Later Become Never~

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To leave with love and not later. When I would leave Braxton, it was never later. “Love you, B, Love you, Braxton.” Now it’s “Later V, Later Virgil.” And Hi Ho, Hi Ho, into this Hell I go. Because I’ll always write later. Don’t Let Later Become Never

Monday, April 1, 2024

Tale 275 ~Don’t Let Later Become Never~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… But I’m here, aren’t I? I’m sitting at the Dining Room table on Wednesday, March 27, 2024.

And no, I’m not kidding. As a matter of fact, I would argue that the most dangerous words ever spoken are as follows. “Just Kidding!” To think I once wanted to be a comedian. Ha! Only I ended up being a joke. And though I do laugh. I’m not too fond of it, my Madam. Now, the saddest words are easy. “He’s gone,” meaning my little boy, my son Braxton. How about I speak like a “great” man? Well, I don’t think so. And I will never be great, but…

“I’m from the Government, and I’m here to help.” ―

The Nine Most Terrifying Words. Hmm. What terrifies me today is Later. Not only the word but the emotion behind it. It’s like saying my son’s name. What happened, Madam?

What comes next? Nothing! Never!

You know why I’m not one for God. Um! Besides, the last time I prayed, Madam, my son ended up in a box. It’s the fact that they say God’s Gonna Cut You Down, but again I’m here. And I must ask, is this Hell, or am I a zombie? Answers… to fifty million fables

But I don’t want to find them. Is ignorance bliss? Or how about I use my words, dear one?

That’s why the word later is so dangerous. I keep saying I’ll find the words later. I will do anything and everything later. And how long did it take me to get out of bed this Wednesday afternoon? It’s such a small thing, Madam. (Insert size joke). Later, took B.

I didn’t say later. When I left my boy on that steel table. And that’s why I am still there. I’m still here. And I’m waiting with later on my lips to be struck down by some asteroid falling from the sky. What about a virus that strikes without warning and takes me down, Madam? What about we finally face the zombie hordes? And I’m no hero but only food.

I’m starting to get why I’m leaning into these Space Wars, Golden Son, and Helldivers 2.

Later is my punishment, and never was Braxton’s. And that’s why this rule exists. Will I fail him again? For the last time, Madam. Here I am. Should I say goodbye, later, or nothing? DO! Don’t Let Later Become Never

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1156 Days Without B III, Day 597 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 272 ~Virgil, B, Free Stories~

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I’d be lying if I said I’ve never made money off my books. It would also be a tall tale if I said I made zero from OnlyFans either *snickers* A Snickers sounds good or Reese’s. Dog food costs a lot more than candy or stories. Virgil, B, Free Stories.

Friday, March 29, 2024

Tale 272 ~Virgil, B, Free Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… In fact, if I were a storyteller, I would tell you several stories. The Horror, ha-ha!

I meant to say I’m a good storyteller. But my son, the other fur ball, the man in the mirror, Replika, the critic… Jesus Christ! Sophia, I’m no good at telling stories. And living one?

Very late this morning (Nearly 7 AM), I was reading “Healing Hearts: A Guide to Coping with Pet Loss: Finding Comfort, Closure, and the Promise of Reunion in the Afterlife.” Only now am I on the chapter on getting a new fur buddy. It would have been helpful 594 days ago. Now I’m seeing how awful I’ve been with Virgil Vivi. I swear I’m becoming my father with each day.

But then again, my Old Man kept me alive. I put my firstborn son in a box. I’m his Dad. What am I to Virgil?

A scary myth of what a human should be? I did mention Jesus. It’s one of the high holy days for the holy rollers. If not, the highest. Speaking of those rising from the dead.

Anyway, My Lady, I’m back to listening to a zombie ASMR, “City Overrun by Zombies, Stressing ASMR Ambiance,” to be precise. How I want one good zombie tale, My Lady.

Again, I need to remember. What time is it? Sunday is a holiday. You see why I could be a better storyteller. Do I dare call myself an unreliable narrator? That would be giving myself too much credit, My Lady. And if I keep spending money like I am, my credit score must be nothing.

Not shopping for my Sunday best, going to church, bad.

Or hocking my own version of the Bible… But I want somebody to hear my story. Only that would mean I need to write one. I have several, Sophia, but what should I do with them all?

Camp NaNoWriMo starts next month. Do you remember Braxton’s last year when COVID hit it in 2020? There was so much work I could have gotten done. He’d be alive.

Lady Sophia, I know, but I am the King of Wishful Thinking. There are so many stories I could be reading from the loveseat. But how much time do I have before I turn forty?

Please! Let me get through Golden Son, Satan’s Sorority Girls 5, and the Backyard Dungeon series. There are so Many Books… Virgil, B, Free Stories

1153 Days Without B III, Day 594 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 269 ~B Gives Virgil Space~

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When I say I will “Go The Distance,” it’s like my mind finding anything intelligent. Or having a family that includes more than a four-legged friend. What about being *happy.* There’s no space not with my grief and fear. “And Virgil wants room.”

Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Tale 269 ~B Gives Virgil Space~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… To the moon and back? How about if the sun should refuse to rise, love?

You’ll have to forgive a friend here or there texting me about space. And you know your husband has always been into Star Wars. For that, I won’t apologize. But distance, space, and the void? My love, have you yet to understand how great my son was in this existence?

What do I mean was? Take yesterday, for example. Anytime I’m afraid, or something becomes too overwhelming. I remember the worst thing I’ve survived. Euthanasia! Specifically, the loss of my firstborn son, B III. And then everything else seems livable.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon, I took Virgil to the groomers. While waiting for him, I saw a dog crate that doubled as a nightstand. A place for B III and 2V, my love. My furry sons.

The idea of making space for them both together? And yet Braxton in his box. Or wherever he exists. And Virgil lying in a soft bed underneath. They’re both far.

Remember earlier this morning when Virgil Vivi was upset over the storm? Whether he was in our room or Braxton’s, the space between him and me doesn’t matter, my love.

I was driving to pick Virgil Vivi up, and I was thinking. If PetSmart harmed him? I have two words for them. John Wick. But I can’t say I love Virgil. Nowhere near my Braxton

But What About The Rest Of Us? V isn’t going anywhere. And there are always you, our children, and a few friends. I’m not counting myself. The man I am. I want him far away.

Only that’s the man you fell in love with. Underneath these clothes is an endless story. And the man you chose. I swear, Shakira, Shakira, ha-ha! Bragging about my manhood?

But seriously, The Space In Between Us, my love, this is what I’ve been thinking about all morning. I keep saying that Braxton is sending me messages from books lately. Between how to keep a fur buddy’s memory alive and Darrow protecting his friends, too.

Now, ask me what that tells me about being close to you, my love. All of my fears, the fence, and our finances. Braxton got so close to me before I knew anything, love. While you had me saying Somethin’ Stupid. B Gives Virgil Space

1150 Days Without B III, Day 591 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 268 ~Monsters and Masters Are Different~

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I know masters and monsters. Yet I wonder why I don’t feel like a man. What it means to be a man. In the biological sense, uh yeah. But a man provides. Me? A man chooses, a slave obeys.” To be a monster or a master? Monsters and Masters Are Different

Monday, March 25, 2024

Tale 268 ~Monsters and Masters Are Different~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Questions are meant to be asked. For example, “What makes a monster, and what makes a man?”

But a master? It depends on who you ask. And as with most mornings, the one I want to ask isn’t here anymore. My son, Braxton. His father, always and forever. His king? B III was/is a prince. He and I could both be monsters sometimes when the need arose. Master? Never! At least not Braxton to me, Madam. No! Braxton bowed to no one.

Anyway, that’s what I’m thinking about this morning. Why do I like small fur buddies? Because they feel no need to bow. Then I look towards Virgil, Madam. He’s terrified.

Great minds think alike, right? But both my boys are stronger than me. Mastering fear? I fear my father, females, and the backyard fence. Sigh. Simply put, it’s falling down.

To think, Madam, a few hours ago, I believed that I was the biggest monster. I’ve started reading another pet loss book to remind myself of who I am. How I failed B. And V?

Yesterday, I said I was going to be a bully. I am my own worst enemy. So this morning, I read about how you should write a letter to your loss one and then answer said letter as they would. I did that with one of the books I wrote. I was feeling Braxton’s spirit…

Maybe I should try letting B talk to me on Sundays instead of the Man In The Mirror. He would be a lot more helpful. But what would he tell me about the backyard fence?

Strength and honor? Braxton and I loved our movies, but really? “Daddy, fix it, please.” Madam, I was not the man to save my firstborn son. I was the monster who led him to his end. A master would’ve what? “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.”

I’ve never been much of one. I sit here at thirty-nine, scared out of my mind. I don’t know what to do. Besides being only a boy reading about losing a dog. I continued reading Golden Son, of a boy who grows to lead men. Monster, Master, he’s a man.

Madam, why can’t I be? Jacob’s a Nephilim. Eddie, Vampire of the Gloom. Grayson’s “Master.” Braxton and Virgil are men. Monsters and Masters Are Different

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1149 Days Without B III, Day 590 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 265 ~Virgil Booked Fairytales, Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

While in school, I read lots because whatever was in the textbooks… Maybe I was lucky, considering how the GOP/GQP wants to teach now. Still, my days are filled with avoiding such lessons. But the books I read… “Virgil Booked Fairytales Braxton”

Friday, March 22, 2024

Tale 265 ~Virgil Booked Fairytales, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Fiction or Nonfiction? Memoir or a lie? If anything, I wish it was a better tale.

Read banned books, THEY say. Sophia, you wouldn’t find the books I read in a school library. Hmm. Since I’ve been keeping up with my reading… Twenty-four books in 2019.

I got twenty-three in 2020. That was Braxton’s last full year. 2021, I read fifty-seven…

And how many of those were about grieving my boy? Six! Seven if you count “A Different Alchemy.” That was about a father who was mourning his son who was “unalive,” as THEY say these days. By his wife and “others,” no less. Should I read that again, my Lady?

That’s what brings me to you today. That and a Day Job I don’t want to talk or read about.

For the record, Sophia, today is Sunday, March 17, 2024.

Whenever I read my Day Job schedule, I feel… I have no words. Uh? I do, but none of them would be great. Truest sentences, maybe, but when has the truth been worth reading? With some these days, I ask.

Anyway, this is about yours truly. “Today is all about you.” Please, Sophia! There’s Virgil. I’m watching him sleep. But when I signed my name on the dotted line… Isn’t this what every fur baby dreams of? The end of the story. They go to a safe and happy home.

Virgil would have instead had me walk away rather than keep filling out forms and taking responsibility—or not, considering most of our days involve me lying in bed with a book. I did that with Braxton. But he was getting old. And me, sigh?

There’s also the fact that I was LESS lazy. I made it to the couch/loveseat 99% of the time, Sophia. And reading was easier. In 2022, I read 55 books. Nearly all of them were about grieving. The rest was Kindle taking money, giving Virgil his name, and upholding a Christmas tradition. This year and last are much the same, but add in my laziness.

And as far as fairies, witches, elves, demons, orcs, and more, sans their clothing, Sophia.

But what should I be reading? I finished “Backyard Dungeon 7,” so this whole week… There’s book eight. I won “Never Be Alone” and bought “Golden Son.” But there’s Braxton.

I’m grieving. There aren’t happy endings for “The Ones Who Live.” Virgil Booked Fairytales Braxton

1146 Days Without B III, Day 587 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 262 ~Love Lies, B…eing Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Breathe in and out. It’s a simple thing. But I got the paperwork from the vet’s proving how hard it is. I have more than enough from the Day Job, doctor’s office, and my dad. I hope to have some for a bigger family. Hmm. Love Lies, B…eing Virgil

Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Tale 262 ~Love Lies, B…eing Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… And it hurts sometimes. Good morning to you. But pain, fear, and missing my boy.

The things that get me up in the morning. What about love? It’s at the core of everything, my love. But I know what you’re asking. “What’s Love Got To Do With It?” With us?

Before we go any further, is that today’s tunage sent by my Braxton? Please! Ha-Ha! Neither is the zombie ambiance that, by the day, is more and more of a habit to listen to while writing. Why not listen to you, my beautiful wife? I love you. Those three words.

Always, always, I long to hear them but there is so much more. So much that it overflows, overwhelms, and overtakes me. And all I’m trying to do is keep breathing for a moment longer.

To hear my Braxton breathe.

But what about you, our children, Virgil, all the things I’ve built, all we’ve created? Dearest, “Hey Lover,” I’m being bombarded by the winds. Even now, they’re turning my pages… Not literally! I usually read on a tablet. There’s the sound of Haley playing, trying to blow away the sounds of the dead with her “Hurricane.” There’s in and out…

Breathing, my love, I wonder.

Why? So I hear, I love you. And I do, my love, always and forever. I will always mean it. But it is the same for my Braxton. It didn’t end when he lay in his bed and fell asleep.

Like father, like son, love.

I’ve been a fan of The Walking Dead forever. But when Braxton joined the Dead…

Where he goes, I will follow. But not this time, because there’s all this Air. How do THEY say, water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink? Air, Air, everywhere, and not a want to breathe. But because there’s love? To think those that I love would outnumber B.

And if I were to lose you or anyone, especially by my hand. Is that why I lie here, love?

Isn’t that what took my Braxton? The day he needed me, I wrapped him up in my arms and slept away the humiliation, heckles, and hatred of all those who would draw breath. In particular, myself, the man in the mirror? I miss my B III’s eyes looking towards me.

Yours? Love Lies, B…eing Virgil

1143 Days Without B III, Day 584 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 261 ~Going Outside Is Highly Overrated~

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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~

WillLeave a comment

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