Tag: Knowledge

Tale 125 ~Read… Ready… B, V~

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Am I ready to live or exist? Am I ready to read about life? Last week, I read of a guy and a corpse. Now, there’s a guy, a corpse, and a witch coven. People celebrate Christmas… now. I celebrate Halloween? Effing dead. Never Ready. Read… Ready… B, V.

Friday, November 3, 2023

Tale 125 ~Read… Ready… B, V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But I would rather write you a few. Hell! I should have written several. Next Week?

It’s like listening to Succubus Lord for… I don’t know how many times by now. But according to Audible, it’s been a lot. And you know what I want to say about them. Only I go back and forth on this whole censorship thing. I wish I could say certain things and call it free speech. It’s why I keep my mouth shut, ears filled and lost fifteen bucks. Meh. Yet opening my eyes and reading. It didn’t occur to me to read all those pet loss books while Braxton was dying. He was going to live. Sophia, that’s where faith lays, with B III. But at the same time, I read as I didn’t want to worry about it with B crossing the bridge.

Now, why do I bring this up today? Well, besides the fact that I talk about B III every day. If I had to express all my fears, we would be here, My Lady. Uh, “EVERYTHING” isn’t that hard to say? Writing it? Anyway, I’m afraid I won’t write Braxton’s name one day. Hmm? Before I decide to start scanning years sniffle worth of blogs. Again, what’s with today? It’s how I stayed ahead to watch my boy cross over. And yet, I’m not ready to step out of this bed. One step towards life or even a better existence at this point. And as I say that, My Lady. There was a zombie package at the door. A package for my package. Uh gross.

I really didn’t make a joke about “my” new toys, did I? My Lady, that’s the only thing I’m ever ready for. I’m always ready to get some. So, when was the last time that happened? This is more of a confession for Inspector Echo, but I’m always ready to read the truth. The last time I ever “got some” would be around seven years ago. Never in this house!!! And I can’t even blame that on Braxton. When it came to Carolina Bound, the woman I would make his honorary aunt since she’s like a sister to me. My son did try to play wingman. Did I ever read to him about moms? Not even how girls became mothers. Nope. Read… Ready… B, V

1006 Days Without B III, Day 447 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 122 ~A MASK B, V~

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Do you want to see a ghost? Been there, done that. Do I want to see a zombie? It’s more like I want to see a lot more. And there’s also Animatronics. But there’s no need for a mask tonight. I’ll be staying in alone. Well, V’s here too. “A MASK B, V.”

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Tale 122 ~A MASK B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you. It’s why I don’t hide anything from you. Why I hate myself. And I like Creed.

The movie? I’ve only seen the first. And parts of the second. But you know I’m talking about the band.

“If I had just one wish, only one demand

I hope he’s not like me, I hope he understands” ― With Arms Wide Open, Creed

I know it’s not a song having to do with Halloween. Happy Halloween! If I wasn’t in a messed up space right now. Hell! I should check where I was in 2021 and 2022, love. Messing around on Instagram and Facebook, I saw something about A Day of the Dead for fur babies on the 27th. Of course, I missed it. And now I’m reading up on the “official” Day of the Dead. But other than my firstborn son, who do I miss? I’m still cringing about how I stunk up my granddaddy’s funeral. Worse than his corpse? That’s not cool to say, I know.

Then again, I make you lie with a corpse every night. Two, if I’m being honest with Braxton’s remains on the nightstand. You’re the only one who loves the Dead as much as me. (Swoons). Maybe that should be your Halloween costume this year… Trinity. Because the man you love would be The One. Which means that I can’t be dead. But even now, sigh. I want to be with my boy. At least that’s what my face tells me every morning I wake up. But, like most days, I put on a mask and have to become someone else. And that’s the difference between my two boys. Braxton showed me who I could be. Virgil shows what I’ve become. Then you and our family…

Today should be… easier. I get to put on a mask, but even now. To be scary, not too scary. In a minute, I’ll burst out with Mulan’s “Reflection.” Mulan and Shang? That’s an idea. And after today? If there was one thing I liked about COVID, it was the mask. I didn’t have to hate myself for these fake smiles. Oh, I did mention I killed Braxton Barks, hmm. I’ll hide behind books so people can treat me like it’s school, always and forever. “Daddy’s tired.” How many times have I heard you say that as I lie, crying into a pillow? How many days has it been, 1,003? Did we buy candy? I’ve had a sugar crash for days. A MASK B, V

1003 Days Without B III, Day 444 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 121 ~Prisons Have Many Different Forms~

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I was arrested once when I was young and STUPID. I’m not young anymore, but STUPIDITY is a virus. I’m infected with it. There’s also Depravity, Fear, and Pain. And for today, at least, Sadness encompasses them all. “Prisons Have Many Different Forms”

Monday, October 30, 2023

Tale 121 ~Prisons Have Many Different Forms~

Three-Hundredth And Fifteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… like anything dealing with Time Travel. A dangerous business this is. And what’s my punishment, Dear Madam?

Grounding me, “When We Were Young” was no TV, Internet, and the like —going nowhere? As I was telling Baby B this morning, Thursday, October 26, 2023. I’m not going to Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge, or Purgatory. With that knowledge, I long to die. Why?

Sleeplessness? Now, that would be a punishment. I haven’t taken a nap today. But Hell, Braxton’s been gone 1,002 days. It’s like I’m doing life.

Sexlessness? I might as well be a damn eunuch. I’d say a priest. But only if Braxton were my religion. And there’s no women here.

Simoleons aren’t rolling in like they did the last few weeks, sigh. I barely made a hundred dollars. These are like confessions for Inspector Echo, Madam —my Dirty Little Secret.

Secrets, to be fair. And silence is one Hell of a prison. This is why I’ve been all about buying audiobooks. eBooks, and stealing “ideas” from X/Twitter. Things “Things That Make You Go, Hmm.” It’s more like things that make you moan and other noises…

Sadness though… That’s the one thing that has been loud and clear. If I hadn’t stopped crying at some point, I’m sure I would have drowned in my tears by now. Have I cried today? At the moment, I feel like crying. Only it’s not 100% Braxton. I mentioned I didn’t get a nap and was so frustrated this morning that I’m back to Day One-ish. Being a slave to certain addictions makes me sick and tired. It’s pretty sad.

It’s like when you hear an icon talking about a crime. And you know for a fact, yeah, I did that. Hell! I’ll do that tomorrow and the next day. It’s how certain people look at history, knowing they want to do such things and then trying to claim innocence.

Madam, why else do you think I read all those books on people who had to make “the decision” for their fur babies? You exist with that choice and then in the presence of their absence. It’s always and forever. And yet, you get to walk away from the crime. I remember my perp walk from Banfield and the aisle of PetSmart. I’ve never left.

What are my other crimes? Prisons Have Many Different Forms.

1002 Days Without B III, Day 443 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

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So I finished a book about a guy and a corpse. Then, last night, I hoped I wouldn’t see one as Virgil breathed weirdly. Should have read up on how to help him. If I had time. 15 years with B, what do I know of dog first aid. “Just Breathe, B, Virgil”

Friday, October 27, 2023

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Better yet, I need to read how to perform basic first aid on dogs. Virgil Vivi?

Lady Sophia, if you’re asking why I’m so late this morning. Hell! I lounged around in bed for an hour. And then I can’t say I was reading anything. How do THEY say… A picture is worth a thousand words. So, how many pairs of Yabbos is that? The answer might surprise you. But we’re not here because of Math. Next to History, Reading rules. Inevitable. And according to Kindle, I’ve read for 562 days. And not one of those books would have saved V last night. Don’t worry. He’s very much alive. Breathing? Happy? He’s becoming more and more like me. Except I think he would prefer breathing, Sophia. But what do I know? Braxton wanted to make me happy. What makes me happy?

Didn’t The Beatles write a song about it? Only I’m not one for that kind of violence. Have you seen the news the past few days? Something else I want to avoid seeing, hearing about, or reading. Then again, I could tell you that Virgil Vivi was gone. After the trouble, he had last night. I petted him and begged him to take a breath. Again, looking up medical emergencies. Sophia, I didn’t. While Braxton lay dying, I finished Succubus Lord 7, next came 8. Vladimir Nabokov’s The Enchanter came after. So, um, three books before I got to sigh… A Dog’s Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron. But what is my purpose, to keep breathing? More than likely, it’s to waste air, Sophia, I swear.

It’s a good enough reason not to buy physical copies of books. It’s an insult, Lady Sophia, to trees, blasphemy to the air, and humanity… What about it? Look at the last seven books that I’ve read. Sunday has always been a bad day. Well, since B died. But talking to the Man in the Mirror. Hell! I guess he’s sick of telling me about my failures every week. Anyway, I was talking about novels. The last seven were about dirty priests, vampires, elves, video game vixens, and a girl’s corpse. “Can’t Get It Up If The Girl’s Breathing.” Eww! Thank you, Repo! The Genetic Opera. Unfortunately, genetics, “my” biological imperative, demands I keep breathing. How these stories end. Virgil’s story? Just Breathe, B, Virgil

999 Days Without B III, Day 440 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 115 ~To B Beloved Virgil~

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The look of love is in your eyes. A reason I don’t have a mirror over the bed. I’m not that freaky. I’d never see it unless I found B III… um, Virgil, a mom. It has never been a love for me; it’s love for someone else, B, V. To B Beloved Virgil.

Tuesday, October 24, 2023

Tale 115 ~To B Beloved Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you. I can confidently (ha-ha) say that I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. That’s scary, right…

Another reason I love money so much. Yes, I’m going to keep it ninety-two plus eight, babe. “My” Olds never taught me to love myself. But keeping me, myself, and I alive takes money. I’m thirty-nine and still thinking about “my” E-Day. One too many, sigh. Anyway, to love myself. And that’s in a keep-my-pants-on sort of way. I don’t think I ever will. Braxton, though, got the closest. I love him so much that I know my biological imperative. Love, you know I will indulge in my pop culture tendencies. Several, I’m afraid. As Haymitch Abernathy told Katniss… “Stay Alive.” That was my B III whenever I went out. Or, as Max said in Fury Road… “So I exist in this wasteland, reduced to one instinct: survive. I do

Two little words from the three I tell you all the time. I love you; I do. Just keep breathing. I did that for Braxton. And I do it for you every day. Take this morning for example. I saw this thing when They asked when do you feel the most STUPID. It’s opening my eyes. Hell! A “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.” It’s STUPID, too. But you know why I feel that way. Because I hate myself and like most things, I do, if for everyone else. Love and Hate, which both require me to live. And as the song goes, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” I hate myself to love Braxton, you, our family.

Geez! I sound so much like, um… a specific political party. I don’t love my critic but care enough to censor myself. Now I’m sitting in bed, wanting to make the list. “Someone You Loved.” I’m still talking to myself because I know you love me, somehow. And Virgil does, too… Why don’t I ask you? How I could love myself, baby girl. Last night, I dreamt about the old Day Job and how I would have felt if I lost it. Hell! I watched my firstborn die, and in his eyes, was his Daddy. I couldn’t even close them. Punishment I needed to see. Beloved, how I long to see a better man in your eyes someday. But how, love? To B Beloved Virgil

996 Days Without B III, Day 437 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 114 ~Some Sirens Find You Regardless~

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Sometimes, when I reread “my” ramblings, I see I wasn’t meant to talk. Screaming, moaning? Hell! Be the strong, silent type. No. That was my son. But there’s only one of him to cry over. No tears for the ladies? Well? Some Sirens Find You Regardless.

Monday, October 23, 2023

Tale 114 ~Some Sirens Find You Regardless~

Three-Hundredth And Fourteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… And how about websites? To think. Suppose I lost access to Twitter/X, Onlyfans, and The Pic Phenomenon.

Suppose I lost it all for a day, Madam—only one day. And I’m trying, Madam. Braxton knows I’m trying. When Braxton was here, as Michael Jackson sang it, “Keep it in the closet.” Ha-ha. And yet I had to give my son “The Talk.” Especially when it came to his Aunt Carolina; my Braxton was a man who recognized her “assets,” the same as me. Like father, like son. Regardless of such features, Virgil will not have such problems. No woman has been in this house since his arrival. As a matter of fact. No maids, best friends, or even women of… um, never mind. Not that I have ever paid for “it.” But there have been other things. And if not. There’s Whisper.

That’s where I met Braxton’s Aunt, and that “Must have been a miracle,” Madam Justice. A lack of bedsprings to sing must mean I find my musical taste elsewhere. Everywhere! But women. Now, I treat everyone as if they’re carriers of a zombie plague. Infected! I always say… ok think, “If you’re not my dog, my girl, or applying for the job, don’t touch me.” Only with women, it’s like something out of the Bible. “Fear not them that kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear (HER) that is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.” If I’m not studying or fawning over the dead, give me mermaids, succubi, Lilith, witches, maenads, scream queens, and sirens.

Who has more monsters, men or women? I wrote a book about it once. Monster Brothel? But that’s not the point. And what is, my critic will ask. I fall in love easily? Once upon a time. And quite horribly. Only that’s something I have to thank Braxton for. He showed me love, and then he broke my heart. Hell! Who needs women? My B was/is braver more beautiful. And yes, better than any woman. Yet I always promised I’d find him a mom. Yeah. Women are everywhere. I will burn or freeze in the Ninth Circle for betraying him. I either deserve to burn and yet be cold and sleepless. Or I’m not worthy of a girl on fire. Some Sirens Find You Regardless

995 Days Without B III, Day 436 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 111 ~Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton~

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With the reading and writing, I do. I’m now saving Virgil’s Birthday? He’s turning three. So, another step towards fifteen… And ain’t nobody reading Braxton’s books yet. It’s hard when they’re unpublished. But today? Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton

Friday, October 20, 2023

Tale 111 ~Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… About how I was a better Daddy to Braxton than Virgil? Hell! That’s like Succubus Lord.

I know that series front, back, and sideways. I’m getting ready to listen to three again (hint, hint). But when I’m going to sleep, I tell myself a bedtime story. I’m already on six and Jacob’s road into Hell. And if that ain’t the story of this existence, minus the hot succubi and other friends.

But let’s stay on topic, which for once ain’t B III. Who am I kidding? It’s always about Triple B. Only today can I focus on Virgil Vivi. Today, he is turning three. And if he’s anything like me, he’d belt out, “I’m still alive. Must have been a miracle.” Or a curse? As the “Good Book” says, we’re all damned anyway. Well, me always. All for my Little Braxton. But what about “my” Virgil?

Do you see what time it is? I can’t say it was the first thing I read. Next to mirrors, clocks are the worst things to look at. Because every second, I can see myself wasting “my” existence. It’s days like yesterday that show everyone else sees this worthless existence.

So I’m not even going to pretend to be happy for Virgil’s birthday? First, I’m never happy about anything. And second, I’ve been trying to be positive. What would make Virgil happy? I wonder. I wasted another seven dollars this morning, but I’m canceling plenty.

“OF” subscriptions? My Lady, particular kinks will do that. Didn’t I talk about my eyes being messed up sometime this week? If anything, I’m tired. And still, there’s time travel.

Only I didn’t think of that when I refused to stay for three extra hours at the Day Job. And you would think with the spare time I’d be finished reading a particular book, that’s um… how to describe it?

I won’t. But I’m so sick of reading about everyone else’s successes. But not any of my own. My Lady, I never burn books but could use the light from V’s B-Day candles. That is if I decide to get up and do anything for his third birthday. Good Luck. “The sun is up, the sky is blue. It’s beautiful, and so are you.” Well, it beats singing Happy Birthday.

Words on an invitation, a card, a gift. Suppose I had Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton.

992 Days Without B III, Day 433 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 108 ~Virgil Looks To B~

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I want to see my son again. But until then. Have I been working on his photo album? Or I could be training Virgil to do something other than sleep. And if you saw the things, I’ve typed into search bars lately. Better to sleep. So, Virgil Looks To B.

Tuesday, October 17, 2023

Tale 108 ~Virgil Looks To B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you. Hell! I desire you, want to devour you, even though I don’t deserve you these days.

Do I want too much or too little? As I used to say, I am a billionaire. I want money. Inevitably, I’ll cut on one of “my” playlists, and ahem… “Yo, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.” The Spice Girls? I could lose all of pop culture, “For one thing.” Finger Eleven? Are they still together? Anyway, I only remember that one song for real. Like you know, the one thing that I would give up everything for. I want my son back. I want Braxton more than “the air that I breathe.” Okay, will I sing something else, love? That’s three songs I’ve looked up in about five minutes on this Sunday, October 15, 2023. I’m looking for time.

Which I’ll have a lot more of after these past couple of weeks. Does that mean less money to spend? Again, we are still billionaires, so I’m not looking at the money. Or the mother of my children. What about the mutt I still call my firstborn? Even now, I’ll defend Braxton’s pedigree. He was a purebred Deer Head Chihuahua. Now Virgil Vivi (sigh). Can I ever look at him the same way? And does he even want me to, with B’s paw prints? And, of course, I’m lying when I say I don’t look at you. I’m trying not to sing, still trying. You know the type of man I am, baby girl. The businesses I run. That I’m a connoisseur of boo… cleavage.

But looking at anything good? I’ve been struggling with gratitude and counting my many blessings. And to this day, I continue to say I’m never happy. And I can’t help this… AHEM: “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” Someday, maybe if I knew where Braxton rested forever. And I feel like I’ve stopped looking. I’ll feel the pain always and forever, but after all this time. It’s STUPID, but I left my pendant with his ashes on. What if I had lost it while I was doing whatever? The last Fur Baby book I read was five books ago, love. Virgil’s been hiding because it’s like Braxton no longer guides him. And me? Saving the day, sleeping with you, such beauty. Virgil Looks To B

989 Days Without B III, Day 430 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 107 ~Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed~

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I watch people with purses, knapsacks, lunch containers, book bags, and everything else daily. All they need today or longer? And those people in boxes? Or Hell! Bags too. A good supply of them with everything going on. Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed.

Monday, October 16, 2023

Tale 107 ~Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed~

Three-Hundredth And Thirteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Am I getting better with these intros, or what? Do I have writing in the bag? Hmm.

And a lot of other stuff, too. It’s better not to go flaunting everything that I carry around with me. Have you ever heard that song, Head Shoulders Knees and Toes? The adult version of that is Phone Wallet Keys and Glasses. And who said I am a grown-up? Ha! I’m still crying over Braxton. He is the only one I carry with me. Madam, there was this big storm, and I remember grabbing the box with Braxton’s… remains. I mean, if the town blew away and all. Anything that takes me to my boy. Or prevents me from going outside. I mean today since I’m time traveling. It’s Sunday, October 15, 2023. That means? I’ll be spending today thinking of being in a box.

I need to stop with this. Uh, I’ve been watching for days on end. People winding up in a bag or a box. “Glass or plastic, glass or plastic?” As Stanley Goodspeed might say. Gulp. Am I going to offend anyone by talking about Israel, Hamas, Palestine, Iran, or wherever? If I did, you know how I am… scorched Earth. I don’t pack up and leave or box stuff up. Do I have to remember that time the Olds cut me off? I bagged up a lot of things then. Hell! I even left Braxton because I had no clue where I was going. It was the longest B and I were apart. And now? If we count Monday, it’s been 988 Days. Keep counting.

What? The ways bags are better than boxes. Suppose I can remember why I even made this rule, Madam. Other than how I’ve wanted a briefcase to hold money or… viruses. Resident Evil. To think there was a time I wanted to study Virology. Putting people in boxes? Madam, I don’t mean how M Anime talks about going “soldier.” But speaking of boxes… uh, yeah. I want to be in her box or Cherry’s. And how many women can I name? And still, that would be nothing but trouble. Tell that to Pandora. Some boxes should stay closed and yet. I want a million, um, a billion dollars kept in a duffle bag. Now that would be living, wouldn’t it? Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed

988 Days Without B III, Day 429 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 104 ~Virgil’s That Sleepy B~

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The best things in life… Sex, Simoleons, and sleep. What about my son? Well, Braxton ain’t here no more. I’ve been sleeping too much to listen to Succubus Lord. What about Satan’s Sorority Sisters. Plus, it’s “Friday the 13th.” Virgil’s That Sleepy B

Friday, October 13, 2023

Tale 104 ~Virgil’s That Sleepy B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… It won’t be the one of braving the highway and or talking to the local government.

No, Lady Sophia. I was too busy doing my best impression of Gabrielle lost to the Flames of Brunhilda. You remember from Xena: Warrior Princess. The last thing I need. Ideas, like I’m Jason Derulo in Want to Want Me. I don’t want to tell myself lies about my continued abstinence. Yeah, right! As if I could even wake up to reset my days without… Lady Sophia, I can live without THAT… I can’t live without Braxton. I’m still breathing. Yes, I am aware. I’m not burning books, but that doesn’t mean the air is clean. It’s clear enough for me to spend all this time sleeping. And after the week I’ve had, Sophia. One more reason I couldn’t go to the courthouse today, sigh.

Well, tell me some pretty girl is waiting for me there… I’m thirty-nine. (Groans). Lady Sophia, I can read all the books about losing fur babies throughout the universe. But a book about love? Myself? Hell! What about a book on cooking? I’ve started reading or instead listening to Succubus Lord again. But I don’t think that counts. And neither does Backyard Dungeon, I’m afraid. I meant to get the audiobook. But I didn’t try too hard to find it. This week has had me reading takeout menus and recipes I’ve seen a thousand times. And government legalese. And all I want to do is close my eyes again. Existence. It’s so hard, Lady Sophia. And no wonder Virgil is following suit as he sleeps.

I’ve spoken so many times in Braxton’s eyes. Seeing myself in his eyes made me want to be better. Virgil knows that if I look at him, I’ll see myself as… Soy un Perdedor, sigh. Only that’s my problem, so why should he have to suffer with being sleeping cuteness? Sophia, I don’t think I’ve ever read the story of Sleeping Beauty. And my stories? Yesterday, as I was listening to Succubus Lord. One of the Succubi talked about fantasies. You know of the dark and forbidden. I imagined what does that mean with mine. Someday, I may write it down if I haven’t already. Any day is a good day for an edit, hmm. I have money? Could I rest? Virgil’s That Sleepy B

985 Days Without B III, Day 426 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will