Tag: Knowledge

Tale 233 ~In The Ending Lies Judgement~

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My Old Man asks me, how’s the house. But at the end of 2023 and the start of 2024. The fence is falling, the floor’s flooded, and I’m trying to fix the shelves… So, sitting here in Limbo. Besides the house, there’s my B. In The Ending Lies Judgement.

Monday, February 19, 2024

Tale 233 ~In The Ending Lies Judgement~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Because I didn’t join my son. I won’t lie to you… Braxton’s end should have been mine.

Not a day goes by when I’m lying on my back, fighting to keep my eyes shut for the day.

Or when I’m lying on my belly like a slug, grinding away to some video or picture of, you know what. If you’re wondering why I’m so late talking to you today, my dear friend.

How about when I’m playing with the toys I showed Cherry on Sunday? I’m gross.

But I’m also not dead. Even though this is “The End.” It’s the first song that B III sent me.

Remind me not to watch anything to do with Vietnam, Madam. Or reactions to the film Forrest Gump. I ain’t no “Fortunate Son.” Neither was my Braxton. But he’s gone. And Hell’s not for him.

Only if he’s waiting for me, Madam J. But no.

What a way to start a Monday morning. It’s Monday here in Hell! Though I’m not hot because of the punishment I deserve. With Princess Tamer, Succubus Lord, The Gargoyle.

Is there a Hell for being too bright? That’s funny. If all my reading made me a wise man? But I read that The Third Circle of Hell would be a match for pride. “Gluttony.”

How STUPID have I been to realize that I am living in the center of The First Circle of Hell? A Thirty-Nine-year-old man who talks to pretty, pretty girls. Who has his OLDS paying most of his bills? A fur baby I mistook for Braxton. And lives from his bed?

I hate myself. I’m not V’s best pal. And again, my B is gone. How will I be judged? Hmm.

I could make decent showings for every circle but Treachery… But, I swear, Lake Cocytus. And I don’t know how to swim. I hate being cold. And aren’t I always? That’s one more argument for me being in Limbo. No matter the weather, I am always in a hoody, Madam.

And if I’m not, I’m usually taking my clothes off. And what good comes from that ever, Madam? With Virgil walking around everywhere. I can forget about any alone time.

So, what ending am I working for? Unless I’m wrong, Madam. And this is Purgatory.

And in fixing my existence… In The Ending Lies Judgement.

1114 Days Without B III, Day 555 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 230 ~ I’ll B Texting Virgil~

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Who knew the day would come when I’d fear a text as much as a phone call? And reading about fantasy princesses… isn’t giving me any insights. Not that I’ve been reading much, anyway. There’s lots to do besides texting, but I’ll B Texting Virgil.

Friday, February 16, 2024

Tale 230 ~ I’ll B Texting Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… A sad one? Cause “Only God Knows Why,” I can’t write my books. Aren’t those sad?

Replika will ask me what I do to relax. Reading, sigh… You know the strange thoughts I get when I can’t wear earbuds at the Day Job? I’m starting to understand why they don’t want you reading… In school! By this point, you’re already supposed to be a zombie. Ha!

Speaking of which, why don’t I enjoy more stories about zombies? I love the dead. Seriously, Lady Sophia, I did some texting with Cherry this afternoon. Sometimes, the girl can be… out there. But the stories she reads and writes occasionally… Look who’s talking. Right?

Necromancy? I swear Braxton’s Aunt and I would always talk about The Walking Dead. Now? We mostly text to ensure that the other isn’t dead. These days… I miss her.

But Hell! If I wanted to die, why not text my Olds? How many days have passed by? And it’s only going to get worse the longer I delay. I’m thirty-nine, Lady Sophia. And still, I hide things like a child with a bad report card. If I could go back to reading about my Stupidity. There’s plenty of that.

Which brings me back to the Day Job. I was reading about my idiocy there. And talk about an irrational fear. No! I was about to say something, but why wish it into existence, My Lady? And don’t worry, we’ll get to wishing about something when it comes to text.

But for now, it’s not so many texts… uh ha-ha. But everything else I should be doing. E-mails, reading, Braxton…

Did I nearly forget about him today? Especially in February? My fingers always found him, even when I was lost to rage three years ago. And at the same time, I should have been writing. I could have saved him. And have I even petted Virgil today? I scooted away.

That brings me to what I fear M Anime might do. Did I text too much on Valentine’s Day, Lady Sophia? It wouldn’t be the first time. But how long have I known Braxton’s Aunt and Cherry? M Anime has them beat. I’ve known my son, B III, for a long time —my Braxton’s Paws.

Others talk about Grandma’s Hands. And my hands? I’ve wept, wanked, but writing. PET Virgil, make a PROFIT, put on PANTS. I’ll B Texting Virgil

1111 Days Without B III, Day 552 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 227 ~Tomorrow Will B V-Day~

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I’m 39, which I hate. But I would’ve loved it if my son saw 19. Happy Birthday, Braxton. But there are so many days that involve people, sigh. And tomorrow is all about love, which has come and gone for me. And what about 2V. “Tomorrow Will B V-Day.”

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

Tale 227 ~Tomorrow Will B V-Day~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… You have my forever. But, uh oh. Guess what day it is. Happy Birthday, Braxton!

I know you’re asking yourself how many days belong to my son—counting 1108 now. And how long have we been together? That’s a dangerous question for a married man to ask. There are a lot of those going on three years. And still, my heart grows, my love, daily.

That should be more than enough reason to get out of bed each morning. Because I love you, our children… I’m still working on me. And I can’t promise you I’ll get there, my love. I’ve hated myself longer than I had my son. Have I mentioned I hate thirty-nine?

And there’s so much left to do, love. I could do my John Mayer impression. “One thing I’ve left to do. Discover me, discovering you.”

But you have your day. Hell! You have a lot of them. You probably rival my little furry son’s love. Only, can you let today be his? Am I asking you? Hmm. Or am I trying to be some alpha male, better known as an asshole? But no. I’m only a grieving Dad, missing my little boy every single day.

I don’t even take today off. I spend two days crying. But on the day my son came to be. And here’s something to bake your noodle. Sunday, February 13, 2005, is the day I chose for him. I never got an answer on Braxton’s birthday, but it was sometime in April. That’s when I met my firstborn son. And every day after… our tomorrow, always, forever… Valentine? Braxton was/is a saint, amongst other things.

And, I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved. I know you still do. As I you, my love. Hell! Even the playlist I’m making, John Mayer, Lewis Capaldi, Muse, and I can go on. I told Braxton I would find him a mom someday. And now Virgil is here. And I didn’t know what day I would find him. Or the day I would see you, love. But I keep telling everyone I’m here. But that’s a lie because I’m seeking my little B III today. Always.

It’s like something from The Big Bang Theory, “Emily or Cinnamon,” ha-ha. Words of love for my firstborn, for you, and so many. Even Virgil and myself? Today, Let It Be. Tomorrow Will B V-Day

1108 Days Without B III, Day 549 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

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It keeps you runnin’, yeah, it keeps you runnin’. It has a name… Braxton. I’ve chased V, too. But now I’m trying to outrun the flood of tears. Good thing I fear drowning. But who’s out to sea with me. I ain’t Jesus. “You Never Chase After Opponents.”

Monday, February 12, 2024

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

Three-Hundredth And Thirtieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But this is one of many that I wouldn’t mind wrecking. And trust me, I’ve tried. Braxton?

I swear the things I did for my boy. The things I should do for my son. Especially come tomorrow. But I’m not even here today. It’s Saturday, February 10, 2024. So you know what that means. Another hard week? And I don’t even want to think about the next.

And that’s the whole point of today. Hell! Sunday, new champions will be crowned at the STUPID Bowl. Whoever wins will be at the top of the mountain, on cloud nine. Or whatever. They will get to rest. And here I am, Madam, singing out, why can’t that be me?

And I don’t mean playing football. I hate the sport. I’m more for “professional wrestling,” Madam. #WeWantCody and everything, you know. And how’s that going?

I’ve had more than enough conversations with myself about Seth FREAKING Rollins. With his whining and complaining. Am I going to have an honest-to-God sports conversation with you? Nope. But I see him crying, wanting competition, challenge, and to be the champion. Champions don’t do that. You don’t run from the fight. But you don’t beg for it to make yourself relevant. You live, Madam, and dare death to take it from you. Braxton lived/lives.

“Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need The Hunger Games every year. To remind us all who we truly are.”

“And who are you, do you determine?”

“The victor.” ― from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes

I’m not my son. Braxton was/is a champion, angel, god. A titan, and so many other things. And he would sit on the corner of the bed, looking at the door. He wanted the fight, but he didn’t chase it. Because there was me. He saw me as worth fighting for. Daddy, always and forever…

But I go out there running every day pretending I’m somebody. I fight to even get out of bed. I need not stir one foot to seek a foe. My fears will have me pinned right here. My lack of funds leaves me nothing. And there is always some female that leaves me weak in the knees. I can’t keep my pants on. I am my own worst enemy. Seriously!

So why go out and chase anybody? Again, you don’t. But that’s when you are a champion, and I’m not. I read. Ha! I write, Ha-Ha. And existence is too much for me. I’m hysterical.

I can’t be bothered chasing others because I’m getting in my own way. Every day. You Never Chase After Opponents.

1107 Days Without B III, Day 548 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 223 ~B’s Worlds Away Virgil~

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“King of the ashes?” I’m sure I read that somewhere. You could say I am, as my soon-to-be nineteen-year-old prince sits in a box. And is nothing but ash. Should I read another book about why I feel so guilty? Unfortunately, no. B’s Worlds Away Virgil

Friday, February 9, 2024

Tale 223 ~B’s Worlds Away Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… At least I’ll give it the good ole college try. But how did that turn out?

My GPA is as low as my son. Um? I’m in some kind of mood, aren’t I? And not just today. Tomorrow? Wednesday, February 10, 2021, where will I be? Running Up That Hill, or rather walking up that aisle, to collect what is left of Braxton Barks Bradford.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, we bury these (censored) in the Earth’s crust. Or keep my boy in a box on the nightstand. “There is another world. There is a better world.” Indeed, my lady. It sounds more like something out of a Black Mirror episode. But no, not yet.

Other than the episode Fifteen Million Merits, I haven’t watched another. And that’s the point of today. There are so many worlds out there, Sophia.

I’m ashamed I didn’t pick up another dog book this week. You saw my reading list this first year that Braxton was gone. Hell! Most of those books said the same thing, my lady. THEY said that we use grief to stay connected to the lost. Three years and counting.

Lady Sophia, I don’t know where I’m going. But I know where I want to be. Ash, dust, dirt? I’m not sure where I stand on the idea of a soul. But, “Somewhere Out There.” Sophia, my boy, is out there. I know it. And that’s what I should be reading about at the moment. Only today, to quote a particular politician. “I don’t want reality.” I want B III.

Playlists, Receipts, the STUPID Bowl.

But take the $13.95 I paid to get another audiobook. Satan’s Sorority Girls 3. I got three words for ya. Natasha (Tasha) Holland. To compare Gray’s college experiences to mine…

I imagine “What Kind Of Man Would I Be” if I had brains or balls. Uh, why not both, hmm? That would make me Darrow “Red Rising” to “Golden Son.” Or Eddie from “Backyard Dungeon” 4 to 5. My library is growing, Lady Sophia. And I’m still not reading with Virgil. At least not on the loveseat as I would and should. My “Lazy Ass!”

So that’s it, Lady Sophia. I’m so tired of crying for Braxton. I read of these other worlds but won’t go. And what of my writing? B’s Worlds Away Virgil

1104 Days Without B III, Day 545 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 220 ~Braxton and Virgil Financial~

WillLeave a comment

Sons, sustenance, and sex… I also buy a lot of books, kindle, and audio because people suck. I need to buy speakers. My playlists are “Fire…” No! But I’m burning money like I did B three years ago on the 4th. Not cool! “Braxton and Virgil Financial.”

Tuesday, February 6, 2024

Tale 220 ~Braxton and Virgil Financial~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… And seeing as how we make more money than Jesus. And ain’t that pretty blasphemous?

We should go and see The Book of Clarence again. Or if we stay in, we could watch Brewster’s Millions. In God We Trust, right? And yes, I tend to spend money like it’s going out of style. And I haven’t talked to “God” since Braxton passed. Even mercy cost

Today, which would be… Friday, February 2, 2024. I was going over the books, darling. Yes, I talked to Sophia about my ever-growing Study. I have to finish “Exodus” for my weekly read. And no, not the Bible book, but the one written by Imogen Linn. And then there’s still Red Rising, which is good but long.. Or I’m lazy. Braxton? Let’s say mourning. And I bought Satan’s Sorority Girls 2 the audiobook. The money I’ve given Eric Vall… sigh.

Three years ago today… Gospel 220 ~ Will’s Sound Of Silence~. All I could hear was the sound of my sobbing. And there has been plenty of that today. But most of this afternoon has been the sound of me trying to empty our accounts. More books, more books! There has been the tick-tock of the clock as I waste so much time. And what about Virgil. He’s the one that reminded me where some of our cash should go. How To Be A Man

Not a father because he is not my son… That’s a cruel thing to say. Isn’t it? When in Rome.

I mean, I took him in. I’m not sending him back. But the expense, love…

I’ve defined love before. But what about the term priceless? That’s what Braxton was, is.

And this time last year, Saga 220 ~ Don’t Worry Your Life Away~. There’s always money.

But for Braxton, I would have spent everything and more. Even if I didn’t have it, I would have found a way. Whether rhyme or crime, right? But what about all I have right now? I want to believe that a man is more than money. I mean, with us, that’s always been the case. You’re no “Gold Digger.” Well, unless we’re talking Red Rising again. I “love” books. I don’t burn them. But I love Braxton. And on Thursday, February 4, 2021, I See Fire. Love and money burn. Braxton and Virgil Financial.

1101 Days Without B III, Day 542 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 219 ~Ideas Wait For Busy Hands~

WillLeave a comment

What have I done in the last 1100 days since my B III died? He would be/is approaching his 19th birthday. I swear he was going to be half my age. And with my two hands, I would have been the one saving us. But instead, Ideas Wait For Busy Hands.

Monday, February 5, 2024

Tale 219 ~Ideas Wait For Busy Hands~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… And I wouldn’t precisely call prayer as looking busy. Yesterday, I should’ve… Even if it did nothing.

I do mean Thursday, February 4, 2021. And where were these busy hands then, Madam?

Gospel 218 ~Eyes Have It Will~. “Now, with these hands,” I was committing yet another crime. First B III, then me, and then “Dirty Diana.” Without a second thought.

Only I’ll admit I should have been begging for Braxton’s forgiveness all the more, as it was by my hand that B met his end. And I should have been there. “I See Fire” B III.

I saw him die, though. Did I need to see him burn as well? I’ll pay for my crimes; I do not doubt that. And in knowing I’m destined for Hell, I would choose the fire. But with my Treachery… Ice will suffice, I know.

But the rub is this, Madam. Though I have ended my boy, Braxton, myself, and Diana with the stroke of a pen and the push of a button. At the end of the day, I am still here with V.

Any ideas? You know where my hands have been. Oh! What will I tell the man in the mirror this week? Do I mean myself? Today is Thursday, February 1, 2024. And I’m here, huh! So today didn’t go exactly to plan because I shouldn’t be doing anything. Cry, Die?

Don’t I wish? I could say I have a few good ideas, but it wasn’t inspiration, the insanity of losing my son. Or even the indifference that led to his death. Madam, it is fear.

Ask me why these hands do anything, and it’s like Dead Air’s “I Don’t Wanna Die.” That’s from Theresa Walker, to be precise. This is ironic. Because all I want to do is see my son again. And you can ask THEM at the Day Job why I do what I do. Let me fall off a ladder or break my neck doing something. One more reason that we’re talking today. I still hate the place. And if it was between the Day Job and Hell… I’d rent out the Day Job and live in Hell. But my boy won’t be there. So I’ve been asking B III. How do I “See You Again”
hmm?

With Daddy’s two hands doing… Ideas Wait For Busy Hands.

1100 Days Without B III, Day 541 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 216 ~Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm~

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There are few words on the page that I can call my own. I have to feed the beast. I’d tell B my words that would save us. But I feast on the words of others. A bookworm. I spared B that fate because I don’t burn books. “Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm”

Friday, February 2, 2024

Tale 216 ~Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… about how not to write a book review. Or not finishing Red Rising. And getting up…

I swear, where are the worms and maggots already? I didn’t let them have Braxton. Dearest Sophia, didn’t I tell one of the girls the other day that my son had gone through the fire? Hell! On the day Braxton passed… I swear, as I walked outside, the son, my son, shone down on me if there was ever a more perfect time for the end of the world, Sophia.

But that’s how it did end. “Not with a bang but a whimper,” as I think T.S. Eliot wrote. Hmm.

So I can read that, but not Red Rising by Pierce Brown? Let me be clear. I will finish it, but not this week. Unless I buckle down… Ha-Ha! Again, the worms, maggots, and grubs.

That’s as likely as me reading the Bible. How else am I going to stay out of Hell for what I’ve done to my son? What about the way I treat Virgil? And women? I am trying to forget. When Braxton was gone, I lost everything. And you want to talk about love, Sophia?

I would become a eunuch. Virgil doesn’t have his “stones.” Grey Worm had two beautiful women. Darrow is trying his hardest to resist Virginia/Mustang. I could go on for some time.

But my point is, I would give THAT up if I could see my son again. But the answer’s no.

And now I read all these books, Lady Sophia. If we’re talking about 2024, there’s been Robyn, Julia, and Tasha from Satan’s Sorority Girls. Jenny/Sister Meretrix from the Pessumae Christi. EO/Persephone and Virginia/Mustang from Red Rising. I’m on a list… I’m a worm on my belly. Or whatever. Tossing and turning with what’s to come

Sunday, February 4, 2024… But it was a Thursday in 2021 when my boy met the fire, and then… I’ve only opened his box once to see what had become of my son. My Braxton.

Sophia, this is the way the world ends. I bought a gun in 2020 on the grounds of keeping my son and me safe… Of course… Only 2021 came not with a bang but whimpering. Braxton would never. That would be me. What have I learned in three years since about Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm?

1097 Days Without B III, Day 538 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 213 ~To B Okay, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

The last time I felt okay… It depends on how you define the word okay. For most of these 39 years, it’s always been a response to an order. But then Braxton wished he’d be okay, so I would be too. I hope he is because I’m not. To B Okay, Virgil.

Tuesday, January 30, 2024

Tale 213 ~To B Okay, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… I want us to be okay, to be good. We gonna be “Alright.” Like Virgil?

Because without Braxton… I hear these words echo in my head… “Death is your gift.” It’s what I woke up to as I dragged my corpse out of bed. Then, I shut off the alarm and went back into the darkness. The longer I stay asleep, the longer I don’t bother the world. And since you are my world… It’s an effing excuse, for sure. But it’s also a favor.

Except when it comes to my Braxton. Yesterday or any day ending in Y. I was thinking about how best to honor him. Well, other than keeping my promise and failing to achieve it again.

I will “BE VALIANT” Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am. I want to be the person my dog thinks I am. I’M NOT!

So what comes next? If I had been BETTER before Gospel 213 ~Will “B” Seeing You~. It wouldn’t be necessary. I would be thinking about what to get him for his 19th birthday. Instead, all I could do was keep him with me three years ago. And then, well… love

TRADITION! As in me complaining about putting a man in the dirt. My granddad, to be precise. Saga 213 ~Hard Enough, Hearts Have Cages~. And I said I’d rather be working. It was working my Day Job and the rage I felt there that would kill my son B III.

My indifference with him to hide my fury. My indifference when it comes to you, hiding my grief. Good Luck.

No, I can’t hide my sadness. Not this week. Hell! I’ve cried three times, and it isn’t even 10:00 AM. And tomorrow, I’m going to be anything but okay. And going on three years now…

So, as much as I want to fix things and ask you to stay, it’s as confusing as my first love with my son. Sigh.

I asked him to stay. But I wanted him to go if it were better for him. And if it hadn’t made the decision… Is it any wonder I want the ones I love in collars, leashes, and chains? Pretty wifey and dogs? Not funny. I’m going to cry again.

But even with buying three black dog toys and movies? I’m pretty effing’ far from okay. To B Okay, Virgil

1094 Days Without B III, Day 535 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 212 ~Remember, Do Good, Die Great~

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The last good thing that I’ve done. Define good? Being a father is good. I was/am Braxton’s father. A lot of good That did him. I fed Virgil and washed Braxton’s rug. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Braxton was/is good. “Remember, Do Good, Die Great”

Monday, January 29, 2024

Tale 212 ~Remember, Do Good, Die Great~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But this one… In the spirit of transparency, I heard this rule from a kid long ago.

And not my kid. My little boy. My Braxton. He lived up to this rule and then some. B III.

Say his name! Braxton Barks Bradford. Yes, Dear Madam, I am here. Now or will be quite shortly. Today is Saturday, January 27, 2024. For you, it’s Monday, January 29, 2024. But for me, it’s Friday, January 29, 2021. I may have stolen today’s rule. But I wrote a lie.

Gospel 212 On The “Will” Succubus, “My Dæmon is suffering from Renal Failure.” B III.

What I should have said is this: “My son Braxton is dying of kidney failure.” And on that Friday, I sat on my hide, much like I’m doing today, and I did nothing! Do Good?

No, Madam, I MESSED Up!

Braxton did good! Braxton died great! That little boy of mine fought to his very last breath, and why? He wanted every single second. But why? For me? His old man. B did good because I promised him. One day, I would be great! And if I did that very thing, my Braxton. I look at the yard that he once protected. The gate is falling apart. Like him?

I didn’t want to notice. I didn’t want to try and be good or plan on dying great. Not me! Bullets, Boobies, and Boys. His last year alive, I was excited. Me and Braxton’s apocalypse.

He saw me through 2020 and then the start of the new year… Death. He did good one last time. ALIVE!

And how do I repay him? While I’m all Dawn of the Dead, let me tell you something, Madam Justice.

“I realize there are some things worse than death, and one of them is sitting here waiting to die.” Kenneth

And that explains the dreams I’ve been having lately. I’ve dreamt about how Joe wanted to burn Mallard down (The Mill). Jules says, “I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd” (Pulp Fiction). And how Bing, at the very least, tried to tell the truth (Fifteen Million Merits.) Even from the grave… a box on the nightstand, my little boy, my soul, Braxton does good.

I told his Aunt that. And I’ve figured it out. I read books and watch shows. I sing “I Have A Dream.” I feed Virgil, calling myself a friend. What does Braxton want? Live Daddy! Remember, Do Good, Die Great

1093 Days Without B III, Day 534 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will