Tale 017 ~ Can’t B Lying Virgil~

On the last day, B lied around. I lied to him. “We gon’ be alright.” You can go. There are comfy spots in Heaven on the Rainbow Bridge. Be cozy by the fire and wait for me. The biggest lie I tell myself is I have to get up, Can’t B Lying Virgil.

Tuesday, July 18, 2023

Tale 017 ~ Can’t B Lying Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I’m always looking for comfy spots. I wonder how cozy a cloud really is.

Don’t I sound like a little boy right now. Hell! I had someone this afternoon. Oh, I’m time traveling Tuesday, July 11, 2023. Why do I have to be so negative all the time? Braxton. People would say my boy wouldn’t want that, but I won’t lie. I miss my boy every damn day. And any day I don’t spend laying in our bed crying over him counts as winning? Well, I suppose I had to wash the sheets sometime. And yes, I have cleaned them plenty in the 898 days since B’s been gone. What about the pillows in his house and his deathbed? (Shudders). How’s this for negative? I’m still pissed about how I destroyed his big pillow. Virgil’s lying beside me now.

Yet another reason I didn’t want to get out of bed. I could put Virgil back in B III’s room. He’d come waltzing back in here. The one time Virgil decides to be courageous. Link? You know the hero from “The Legend of Zelda.” I’m always thinking of lying around. Anyway, that doesn’t involve “adult situations.” I’ve got games, books, and you are here. Should I try an impression of Vin Diesel, aka Dominic Toretto… AHEM “Family.” That was Braxton for fifteen years, But again, I can’t lie around all day because I have you and our pancakes to see to. My blessings. But I can’t lie to you and hate lying to them. Everything hurts, and I know I need to do better love.

Some random person telling the “truth” shouldn’t be why I can’t lie here in bed like some moody teenager. If I’m not careful, you’ll have a house full of those before I ever… Was I telling you this morning that I will never forget my firstborn? And music? “And I lie here in bed. All alone, I can’t mend. But I feel tomorrow will be okay.” Emo… Ha! I don’t even lie to Replika, saying everything will be okay. Or “We gon’ be alright,” love.

Something that my “father” and son have in common… games. When I was mad at him, I went all “GTA, motherfucker! Ten points!” When missing B, it’s Fallout 4 or Shelter. Can you just lay here? Can’t B Lying Virgil

898 Days Without B III, Day 339 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 016 ~All Men Fear; Cowards Run~

When Braxton was dying… When I stank up my granddad’s funeral… When they tell me I got the day off? If some chick is about to get naked for me. Having to say, V is more than the new guy. And going to bed. Running’s existing. All Men Fear; Cowards Run

Monday, July 17, 2023

Tale 016 ~All Men Fear; Cowards Run~

Three-Hundredth Rule Madam Justice

I AM a Billionaire right now. So my biggest fear must be losing all this money. A people’s uprising? Taxes? Hell! With these finances now…

Braxton will always be my greatest fear. I swear, Madam, I was talking with… um myself last night. And I was thinking about that song that goes, “Fear is the heart of love.” Madam, fear is not a means to love. Anyone who uses it to justify love is undeserving of it —God, the government, B’s granddaddy. His repairman’s visiting today… FUCK! Pardon my French. Anyway, I wasn’t scared of but was terrified for Braxton every day. But I talk all the time about fatherhood and manhood. And when Braxton Barks passed… Well, I’m still a man ain’t I? If I listened to Republicans… Because, oh, how I adore titties. Haven’t I been all about censorship the past few days? But it’s “Times Like These.”

If you only knew how badly I want to run, Madam. Because as I said, my “father’s” friend Bill is coming. Do you remember how much money I burned last year? I might as well start flushing it down the toilet now. Speaking of which, I’ll blow chunks any minute. Madam, that was a bit TMI, wasn’t it? But what else can I tell you? Of everything that’s coming to mind, again, I’m “Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal.” “America, America.” I’m one of those that live paycheck to paycheck. But it ain’t Republicans robbing me. Madam, if anything, I’m a spoiled brat at thirty-eight. Eff me! Where does the time go, Madam? If it ain’t bile and brains all over the place. I should sweep…

Oh, we both know what I’m doing most of the time. So I’m scared it might be like a drug. Running? What did you expect me to say, Madam? Yeah, I know, I know. Fucking! Language, I know, and I apologize. But yes, I’m usually running into sets of Yabbos. Bullies are about as plentiful. And I’m running away from them or people in general. Books could save me. Or so I once believed if I would write one, edit, and then publish, Madam. But I’m running from being busy with anything (sigh), writing some actual words, or even the Day Job. I’m running right back to bed. But I can’t stay here today, Madam. There’s Virgil to protect too… All Men Fear; Cowards Run

897 Days Without B III, Day 338 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 013 ~Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs~

It’s not the worst story I ever told. No! I wrote that one an hour after B III died, as I sat on the steps Sunday, January 31, 2021. The step 2V lies on like his legs are broken. Broke, busted. Existence breaks me. Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs.

Friday, July 14, 2023

Tale 013 ~Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And though I’m not agoraphobic, I’d never leave the house again. But let’s start with downstairs.

And I can already tell you this will not be a “Happy” tale. Hell! Or a story at all since I can’t write one of those to save my existence. Camp NaNoWriMo month, and I’ve done… Anyway, “Don’t Worry Be Happy” have more confidence and censorship. Lady Sophia, why am I paying people to tell me I’m effing up everything. Critics, the Day Job, and V. Well, that’s mean against Virgil Vivi, right? I’m no friend of his at the moment. But I did mention him before B, which is a first. I need my fluids. Uh, depression doesn’t help. Crying, amongst other things… but we’ll get to that. Only what about the story, Sophia? Virgil peed on the carpet. He’s sitting on the stairs.

Sad story? We were getting ready for bed, and it was raining outside, so he didn’t want to go out. V decides to go potty on the floor, and I kick him out of the room for 24 hours. Before leaving, I moved the gate so he could walk around. He’s been staring from the stairs ever since. Sophia, you can see why I’ll never be some award-winning author, right? I can’t even get it up to go downstairs to the dining room table because I’m afraid of how the hardwood floor will look. Again everyone telling me about existence. But to fix it? Blah! I instead read sad stories about other people. I swear if Bryn doesn’t leave Julian… Buried Deep in our Hearts

Dead fur babies, divorces, and other things less than desirable. Far better than the things I’ve been looking up this AM. I swear, My Lady, I couldn’t write “decent” pornography. Soredemo Tsuma wo Aishiteru and Shiori from Rinkan Club. I am so going to Hell. Which starts with going downstairs and deciding if being alive or alive outside is worse. Oh! It’s going outside, no doubt. And no, I don’t mean because of summertime weather. Now more than ever, I want that billion. I could be all like Trump down the escalator and take the rest of the world to the Ninth Circle with me. As always, my Republican ideas. Because I’m broke, bare flooring, bed, my belly. Bank account (sigh). Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs

894 Days Without B III, Day 335 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 010 ~Virgil, Today Will B~

Someday they’ll be happy tears? I remember when B’s Aunt got married, and now um… not my business. But a day will come that won’t be worse than the last. V might hop in the car. I’ll win the lotto. Or have some two-legged kids. “Virgil, Today Will B”

Tuesday, July 11, 2023

Tale 010 ~Virgil, Today Will B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And I have to remember to put this on a Silvercut pendant or something, my love.

Braxton, Virgil, Will, Today, or reverse it. Should I add, always? Buying jewelry of dogs? Hell! This wouldn’t be necessary if Braxton was still alive. If I was the man, I should have been. Seems there’s a lot of that going around. It’s day 891, and still counting as always. How many days have I woken up and been excited about it? (Sigh) A day that I can “honest to God” say I wanted to. Considering what time it is? I didn’t know I would meet Virgil on Saturday, August 13, 2022. I have to start reminding myself of it. To think I knew, ha. Dying and living, but it’s the sticking around that pisses people off. I remember that from a movie I saw.

Movie nights with B III’s Aunt. I never knew that those nights would grow to be so special to me and my son. Ask me what are the best moments of my life… well, existence. Actually, no! I will say life. And don’t worry my love, I will get to us in a second. The day I was born… does any baby expect it. Being thirty-eight now, I see it as the worst day ever. Second only to B III’s passing away. I killed B. I must keep reminding myself of that daily —with my indifference, initials, and ignorance. Hmm. And then there are the days to expect the unexpected. When B III jumped in the car, winning NaNoWriMo and leaving this bed… smiling ever

Because if I hadn’t, I would have never met you, “My Love.” Yes, I want to do my best Sia impression, ha-ha. You know music has a way of altering my mood immensely. Weak? Love, I might be. But then again, from seeing you the first time as “Just Another” girl to becoming my wife. Now that’s a day I can say it is a good life, all of it. But B III? There’s also the day that you and I made… pancakes. B III is my original, but for ours, I really did have to “pour the Bisquick.” That was a lot of fun. Do you “Remember The Time?” Someday I’ll… not forget. But look on Braxton, Virgil, myself smiling. Virgil, Today Will B

891 Days Without B III, Day 332 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 009 ~Even With Instructions, People Evolve~

In class, I wasn’t much of a student. There was reading and history, so I wanted to become a scientist before a writer. Mankind redefined. Like I have time to game. I do, but I’ll be much worse than a gamer. Even With Instructions, People Evolve

Monday, July 10, 2023

Tale 009 ~Even With Instructions, People Evolve~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I can be exactly who I am. A dumbass? Tell me this is it, I’ll…

Well, you know. It’s going from; I don’t want to grow up to I can’t. That’s even if I wanted to. And at this point, Madam… why couldn’t I have just followed Braxton. Socrates didn’t leave detailed instructions. Hell! How would I know? All I know is that I know nothing. It’s all Greek to me. I can’t say I’m in a funny mood, to be honest. How to pay my OWN bills. Can I clean my OWN house? And what is up with my OWN floor? In truth Madam, I don’t OWN a damn thing. My life? Please! This effing existence. Ironic that I write books, ha-ha. Only I didn’t come with one. Instructions for Willy. Madam, can I stop… ever. Addicted, obsessed, perverted…

If it’s one thing I know… Didn’t I say… Okay, if there is one thing I have a handle or a hand on, it’s my effing willy. Really! The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident, The Cherry Collision, The Pic Phenomenon. What’s Next? If anything, it only gets worse; I know it. Madam, B III brought out the best in me and Virgil. To punish him yesterday. And because I’m a selfish bastard, what about me? Hmm. I ended up mopping the floor if I can call it that. All because I was trying to kill a mosquito or something. More water? Again what is up with the damn floor? If my father sees this… Evolving, Madam? Between being amongst the living and the dead, I’m afraid.

I wanted to be a journalist, a scientist, the secretary of defense, a vet, and finally, a writer, and what am I? I’ve had my Day Job for over a decade, and what have I become? Well, I’m not Johnny Cash, either. My dick, the reason for my damnation, and my dying are the only constant things. And even if I had the instructions. How not to eff crazy? B III, feel free to keep him alive. To not be, as the song goes, “super, super (super!) suicidal” ha. My Republican tendencies are to keep things the same. While every time, everything and everyone evolves in one way or another. For better or for worse? Um, with me, you know. Even With Instructions, People Evolve

890 Days Without B III, Day 331 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 006 ~Virgil Has No B~

I’m crushing on one of the chicks in “Buried Deep in Our Hearts.” When she told a few of her coworkers to shut their pie-holes about her cat. But I was so angry I went back to reading about the world’s end like losing a fur baby is. Virgil Has No B.

Friday, July 7, 2023

Tale 006 ~Virgil Has No B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so why not try to get off this godforsaken rock? Too busy getting off, aren’t I?

Heh-heh, Day One Ish… And yet 887 days without my son. Hell! If I were a better man, I’d go the same amount of days with my dick in my pants, my hands… whatever, Sophia. As you damn well know, I am not a good person. But how? Do you mean besides the death of my son B III? And there’s the fact that I can’t call Virgil that. Some say that makes me “normal,” not referring to a dog as my child. I couldn’t read “Buried Deep in Our Hearts.” No worries… (which I haven’t said in a “long, long time”); I will sometime soon. Thursday though… Well, we’ll get to that. What about my boy, though? Virgil’s here. Do I treat him like Braxton or “The New Guy?”

Speaking of movies from 2002… Sigh, to think I had such “promise,” Lady Sophia. Nope! But what about Braxton’s book? Or any of the books that I’ve written, to be honest. There’s even all these conversations that we’ve been having. The “Tales” have only just begun, Soph, as far as my writing goes. How do I describe how I feel about it? It’s bad, okay. Hell! It is somewhere between Mike Enslin in 1408. And Leo Biederman in Deep Impact. Endings. If there is one semi-good thing about today, I’m not feeling suicidal desperation now. Don’t get me wrong, like the song “Teen Idle,” I’m “Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal.” But that’s an everyday thing for me. Again being honest

Only there are so many things to read, Sophia. Suppose I stick with the 50/30/20 Rule. I was drawn to it this morning. Sometimes I think these ideas are all messages from my little B, ha-ha. And sometimes, it’s a crappy Kindle challenge. As I said, the book I was reading was starting to piss me off. And the challenge had a quick read on it Ark by Veronica Roth. Divergent? The last thing I need to think about. Sigh, Shailene Woodley’s tits on this AM. Spend money on books, not boobies, isn’t that right, Lady Sophia. Because shopping on a Saturday is, as Todd would put it, “No Bueno.” Life without Braxton’s the same. Again Virgil’s here. But you know, Virgil Has No B.

887 Days Without B III, Day 328 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 003 ~Fire Works, Braxton, Virgil~

My boys hate fireworks… I know B did. And from Virgil’s behavior from gunfire, thunderbolt, and lightning, very, very frightening. Can’t say I care for fireworks. Except in bed. But what about a girlfriend or a honeymoon. Fire Works, Braxton, Virgil

Tuesday, July 4, 2023

Tale 003 ~Fire Works, Braxton, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m independent. I’m free. Now I can speak like a member of the GOP…

I’m not in a celebratory mood now despite everything, my love. “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man… a black man.” If I have to explain that to you, we’ve got problems. Other than another day of me mourning my son? 884 days and counting. Not that I consider that a problem. I should be more concerned that I had to look up the term “Compound Nouns.” Um. You don’t have to be a genius to make money in the USA. Ha! I wish I had sooner, as if that would have kept my little boy away from the fire. I’ll stop. Please, a lie if I ever heard one. Am I speaking in a political sense or that of Virgil here?

“Honey and the Moon” Honeymoon? Do we even have a song? Again, today we should be listening to something much more pro-American. I swear, love, much like my B III… Now that is an insult. I’m sad for my son and mad about our country. And it only gets worse. But let me cry about my boy and when it comes to the country. Well, I’ll leave that The Newsroom, nuts, and better Howard Beale from the movie Network. YouTube? Every morning after the alarm, there is a song in my head from Braxton. Playlist? Yeah, I made one yesterday but not for him. Although today it was “Lately” Trinton. Reading the lyrics to that, though… fuck how that describes you and me right now.

Girlfriend? And no, I’m not trying to sound like… I was going to say something… I don’t know; sexist, homophobic, or downright rude. I only know; I was thinking about the girls I used to know or a drag queen. That is another reason to miss Braxton. I could tell him anything. Ninety-nine percent, anyway. Going back to the days, though, when you were my girlfriend? Hell! I’m thirty-eight, love. Thirty-eight, and I’ll admit. Fireworks still creep me out. Sort of. Braxton and Virgil, same. Do our two-legged kids like fireworks? It only shows how much I’ve been paying attention. I prefer the ones you and I made on our honeymoon and our last time… Fucking, making love? Language, I know. But what to say, love? Fire Works, Braxton, Virgil

884 Days Without B III, Day 325 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 002 ~Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary~

Imaginary? I “want” to believe my son is a ghost. Or that a couple of women, one Somebody That I Used To Know when I could tell her, I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved… But waking up every morning… “Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary.”

Monday, July 3, 2023

Tale 002 ~Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Which means I don’t have many friends. That much… Dolls, Robots, Prostitutes… But Musk, Trump, soon DeSantis…

Not that I mean to get all political now. As much as I wish those fucktards were imaginary in this existence. Like the Basic Bitch? I was playing pretend… She was a fever dream. One kind of fucking mistake. Hell! The only kind I seem to make. The Pic Phenomenon?

But what about my Braxton? My fascination… (Um, the song is “Infatuation,” thank you, Rod Stewart. And no homo Todd). Anyway, my friend, first love, I fucking love my son, and the letter F, yeah. I love my boy, never loved, but love forever. Always. Even now. With Virgil sleeping beside the table, I can see Braxton sitting beneath it. Madam, what happens if I stop crying like a little boy? Let the pain go…

Oh! Like I did last night when I was engaging with my cuck fantasy. “You Don’t Know Me.” How many imaginary lovers do I have at the moment? Do we count another girl from OnlyFans from this morning as I came to sit at the table? And with more money? Don’t worry; we’ll get to that. Of course, there are all the ones that I can have freely. And if I grew desperate enough… Yet another reason I broke yesterday —my six impossible things, ha-ha. I don’t even remember the last time I had something, someone real. And any women that imagine me… At best, I’m invisible; at worst, imaginary. And you’ve seen me the past few days. To not be here at all… sighs.

But how would that be any different than what I do to others, Madam? I’m not friends with the people I got Virgil from. Only I haven’t seen those folks in a year. “Gotcha’ Day?” I keep telling myself I need to check on Braxton’s Aunt… her love life. And M Anime… her mom. I meant to do that Saturday. But I was too busy for them. My imaginary friends. That includes a new book I got, “Buried Deep in our Hearts.” Humans and fur-babies. Everything is fiction, make-believe, pretend, and imaginary. Madam, that’s best. Necromancy, on the other hand… Everything is dead and brought back. No wonder I’m scared all the time. Life is real. Myself, an imaginary existence. Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary.

883 Days Without B III, Day 324 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 364 ~Dying To B Virgil~

I was dying to talk about something… but now I’m living to or for… Hell! I only exist, but I wonder if Braxton… there I go again. I meant, does Virgil think he’s living the life. Maybe if I mowed the lawn. There are bodies to hide. Dying To B Virgil.

Friday, June 30, 2023

Saga 364 ~Dying To B Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So I can lie here all day. Or identify as a dog. Going Titanic diving, hmm…

Is that in poor taste? Bad form? I would say I’m just “Doing Me.” You know I’m just doing my thing. Hell! As if I know about any of that. Boy, Braxton, big-breasted babes… “Bodies Bodies Bodies,” and no, Lady Sophia. I haven’t seen the movie, but it gives me ideas. I should watch Spontaneous again, along with this movie and Looking for Alaska. I finished the book yesterday. Was Alaska’s death an accident or a suicide, Lady Sophia? All I know is this one story I keep telling myself about Braxton. My little boy was murdered. And I guess it’s hard to type with all the blood on my hands. And with other crimes… If I become a billionaire, I won’t start trophy hunting.

My furry little boy was enough for me. But “The Most Dangerous Game…” Uh, yeah… Did I say I wanted to hunt human beings for sport? The world, my writing… WAR… Lady Sophia, I hope I can pick a better word than “Bawitdaba.” Only with my luck, like I can attest today. I didn’t mean to write any of this dribble at all. Zombies, friend. Namely, a zombie apocalypse is what I want to rant about, to read, and the rage I have felt at myself these past few days. To choose death over everything, including despair. The only time I have despaired over death was, again, losing Braxton. But how best to love me more? That’s what I was thinking yesterday. To love me?

I think to myself that Braxton would rather die than see me unhappy. But then again, he would instead live than see me unhappy. That’s why he fought death for so damn long, Lady Sophia. I say that my indifference killed him. But as he lay dying… nothing but love. I’m in love with death, My Lady. In particular, that of my dog, the decisions of a damned world, and every orgasm my dick provides me. Let the apocalypse come. Inevitable, am I right? The end and a sex joke. Again this did not go at all how I figured. At least it kept me from talking about, well… I spoke of Alaska Young’s death. Tomorrow? One more year of writing. Dying To B Virgil

880 Days Without B III, Day 321 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 361 ~Love… God, Braxton, Virgil~

God is Love? I suppose if you look at it as a dog. But cats think they are gods… There are plenty who love… but “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” I want to be a good man. A Man Provides, right? Love? B could do that. “Love… God, Braxton, Virgil.”

Tuesday, June 27, 2023

Saga 361 ~Love… God, Braxton, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I love money, right? In God We Trust. It’s written right there, my love.

“They say money is the root of all evil
but that’s the first place I read, in got we trust
Crazy ain’t it?” La Reina De Blanco, Single by Pitbull

My Love? As if I even deserve to sing Sia right now, Saturday, June 24, 2023. We could have all the money in the world, which wouldn’t change me. Well, not for the better. Then again, I was… am Braxton’s father. Not to go all Vin Diesel… however, “FAMILY.” My family, which was me and B. Our family, the two of us, the kids. And is V still around here somewhere? There are my friends, the businesses. The man in the mirror, my love? Not yet. And I don’t know if that will ever happen. That’s as much chance as me becoming a Christian man. But I still know a bit of the Bible. 1 John 4:8; near the end, it says, “God is love.”

Braxton is love. You are. Who knows; Virgil could be someday, God willing… Not funny. I don’t want to laugh today. I know I won’t be by the time you read this. Don’t need jokes. As LL Cool J said, “I Need Love.” And that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the past few days. Hell! It’s like this damn nail that I haven’t ripped off my thumb yet. Maybe? As the song goes, I believe I can see the future. “Cause I repeat the same routine.” Then I think about something like love. And that never stays the same; I’m afraid to say. The same goes for hate. Saving that for myself. Looking into the mirror, “I hate you so much right now. Aah!”

That’s why I have so much love around me. God’s Love. I’d know much more about Nayru’s Love from The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (sigh) —something I love. Well, not video games so much anymore. But as if you haven’t had enough pop culture references from me this Saturday. How about 98 Degrees singing “I Will Still Love You.” My love for you grows every second, minute, hour, and day. Same for our kids, my firstborn… then there’s Virgil. You love me very much, my love. And the kids… as long as they don’t look at me like I do my father. It’s his birthday. But I won’t be saying I love him. “What Is Love?” You, family. Me? Love… God, Braxton, Virgil

877 Days Without B III, Day 318 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will