Saga 290 ~Some Are Born Many Times~

Well, did I survive the day? Are we talking today or Monday? I was dead this morning when I cut off the alarm at 4:00 AM. Then spent 1:00 PM edging. And I’m sure I did something STUPID today. But I got the right rule down… “Some Are Born Many Times.”

Monday, April 17, 2023

Saga 290 ~Some Are Born Many Times~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… so seeing that money is no object, let’s see if I can get this right today hmm.

As I’ve died so many times. But I only need to get it right once. Only you’ve never seen me write a goodbye… um, a suici… I’ve never said, “I’m going to see my son, so take care, everybody.” Please! Madam, I’m more inclined to go all in with this. “My respects to all friends, confusion to all enemies. God bless you. Take care of my little boy.” The Alamo. That’s from the 2004 edition, to be precise, Madam. How I hate counting these years. Talking to Lady Lunalesca today… It’s Saturday, April 15, 2023. So yes, I’m time-traveling. Even now, I wonder why. As I took a catnap, once again, I hoped, “prayed” I wouldn’t wake up Madam. Reincarnation’s a bitch. Braxton understands that.

I told Lunalesca that, approaching thirty-nine. I see how I’ve wasted this entire existence (sigh). Not that I ever asked for it. Or the fact that I have to relive it again and again, hmm. I keep telling myself that when I go to the Day Job. And they ask how I’m doing. I’ll say: “I’m waiting to see who will piss me off today.” It’s more like, “I’m waiting to see what kills me.” As the song goes, “You make me wanna die. I’ll never be good enough.” I don’t have to wait for them, dammit. The fact that we’re talking today… Dying. Yesterday or a few days before, I let the Day Job take this Monday and why. The cash to live, ha-ha?

If I told you about every single time I died. Much like The Cherry Collision. Or The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. Hell! I have pictures. NSFW work, though, Madam. Of course, there is Sunday, January 31, 2021. It was around 4:00 PM Braxton passed. Madam, Thursday, June 3, 2021. The day my “grief” ended? Never! But my cock gushed. Tuesday, January 11, 2022, The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. The first time I needed a doc for something besides my eyes. And how do I feel now, with The Cherry Collision? Monday, January 30, 2023. The day I stunk worse than my Granddad—his funeral day. Then there’s E-Day. Emergence, Existence, Extinction. What about tomorrow Madam? Unlike Braxton, I die, return… Some Are Born Many Times.

806 Days Without B III, Day 247 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 284 ~Solve For B, V~

I hate Math but History and Reading… Now those were my subjects. And I’m trying my best not to be a Republican should I ever make that billion I’m always talking about. Learning “my” history, love. And, oh, dead fur babies. My Braxton. Solve For B, V

Tuesday, April 11, 2023

Saga 284 ~Solve For B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should love Math. Like an effing Republican, I should sing “More, More, More!”

I said Sunday… Now, what is it? You know there are some things I can’t seem to escape, love. One of those is that I’m a selfish son of a bitch. Another is that my son is dead. Or would you have me talk about Andrea True or Billy Idol? Make your choice. Mine always is grief. Crying about B keeps me from weeping, raging, or effing the whole world, which is what billionaires do. Once you’re a billionaire, why worry about money? I wish solving for X attributed something to that. Only I doubt it. Science, History. “Where Is The Love?” Oh, that’s something I have to ask the man in the mirror every day, if not every moment, to keep moving forward, love.

You. My love for you is… Well, I want to get as poetic as I want to get political, love, which is why I’m talking to you on a Sunday. That’s something, right? And the fact that I even climbed out of bed and put on clothes. Braxton’s hoody as usual, but winning. I don’t know if it’s the meditation that I’ve started. This is the 8th day. I’m always adding something new to my plate, and speaking of which, vitamins? Everything, nothing? I can’t say that I’m feeling better. But Baby Girl, you “Keep On Liftin'” me. Anesthesia? Do you remember the “Dark Nightingale” from “Rumble Roses?” Anatomy, Breasts?” Growing up, there was a time I thought sex and/or money fixed damn near anything.

And considering it’s Sunday, so 100 Days. And after B died, it was 161… impossible. I always return to the numbers. He’s been gone… WOW! 800 Days today. And I’m still alive with V 241 Days. I can’t say it’s love, but he has his appointment for shots. But as for love, “My Love,” or should I go older as I sing this AHEM, “living for the love of you.” And that ain’t ever gonna change. Even though it’s been 100 Days. And more, I hope so. Why? I had Cherry ask me that. Considering I’m always in the mood, Baby Doll. I love you, I love our family, I love my boy. Virgil’s alright. And my XXX? To love me? Solve For B, V

800 Days Without B III, Day 241 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 283 ~Your Punchline Means My Punches~

“Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth,” I believe that was Tyson. One more reason I love B. He didn’t talk much, and he barked at everyone else. Then there are earbuds. But I talk to myself… oh no! Your Punchline Means My Punches.

Monday, April 10, 2023

Saga 283 ~Your Punchline Means My Punches~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Fourth Rule

NOTE: I wrote about this effing rule twice! So much for my focus and concentration!

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… Now that’s funny. But I can buy more than $10.00 Walmart earbuds with that money. Work harder?

I rather hurt my ears than my hands today. However, considering what time it is. I did both this morning. Must have. I punched out a clock or went deaf. Who knows. Well, Braxton would or does… I’ve talked about the looks he’d give me; what I wouldn’t give for one of those looks now. And I try to recreate them with Virgil. He’s not Triple B, reincarnated. Oh, I’m reading yet another book on dying fur babies. Find that funny, huh? Not you, of course, Madam. You and all the girls know how I feel about my son. And with everything people have made fun of me about. Even the universe knows that my B III. He’s off-limits. Unheard, unseen… humor; why so serious

Only there’s plenty to make fun of me about. Though if we’re talking about something like last night… I’ll say I’m more sad and pathetic than angry. If Cherry understood. Okay, last night I spent more money, $35.00, to see some titties. Online strippers (sigh). There’s always the fact that I’m begging to see Cherry’s yabbos and M Anime. Haven’t I said before men and women can’t be friends? Friends, but there’s always, um, desire…

Hell! Braxton was my best friend, and I effed him worse than anybody. I killed him.

Anyway, there was this other girl who reminded me somewhat of cuckolding. Maybe that was General Hospital when Elizabeth was sleeping with Lucky’s half-brother. Getting way off the subject… I don’t care for laughter.

So what joke gets me to punch someone in the face? I’m surprised I still have the Day Job for one. Again I killed my son. Euthanasia. I don’t need the cops outside the door like last night. Well, that was more Fire Department and an Ambulance for the neighbors.

Punishment for what happened to Braxton. I still deserve it. But yes, I’m frightened (sigh). In a way, Madam, I’m so busy hurting myself in this way or that. The Cherry Collision or denying myself release from pornographic passions… It’s easy to get angry. Rageful. Madam, this existence is a joke. And when other people remind me of it… Madness. That’s why I like hearing about “My Dick.” No Joke? Your Punchline Means My Punches

799 Days Without B III, Day 240 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 276 ~Sanity Is A Valuable Possession~

My head hurts or heads… Know why? Don’t stick your dick in crazy. And at the same time, don’t get out of bed in the morning. If I had my way, I wouldn’t. Hell, I would have joined my boy wherever he went. Insane idea? Sanity Is A Valuable Possession.

Monday, April 3, 2023

Saga 276 ~Sanity Is A Valuable Possession~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. When will that be true? Here’s a better question. When will I be healthy… um physically? Mentally (cue) Am I A Psycho?

Because SANE? No! Which already puts me in a bad position. What would you call being SAD for 792 days and counting? Despite every emotion. Why? MY SON IS DEAD! Braxton is gone, Madam. Now I’ve been sad before. Hell! Long before ever meeting him. I can’t say I’ve ever been a bastion of sanity. And with the world, as it is. We’re all broke. At least when it comes to our reason, all I have are excuses. I’m an effing Republican; because I’m not reasonable, ready, or right ever. Madam, accepting my effing insanity. Singing, “But I can’t walk on the path of the right because I’m wrong.” Again as I’ve said, I’ll take physical pain over any and all mental anguish, dear Madam.

Because SICKNESS? That’s what I thought about all day at the Day Job; that I deserve this pain. And why? Because of what I did to my boy? I’ll never forgive myself for that sin. So every day, I wake up with the thought of joining Triple B whenever. Madam, this morning as I was brushing my teeth, I found my hand was bloody. I went from, “is this a tooth,” to “it’s finally happening; I’m dying.” I think it’s from where I cut my chin shaving… But that’s not healthy. To be so in love with the idea of death. Zombies, Necromancy, Infection, etc… At least if I’m hurt, I’m not thinking about other things; if you knew what I was thinking Sunday afternoon.

Because SEX? Some people want life to be like some musical; I see existence as one huge porno set. Yesterday it was Street Blowjobs. I told this story before about the lady at the store years ago. The blonde that asked for money. If I had been a better man… or a worse one? Anyway, different woman, same scenario. And I flat-out refused to give anything. Madam, if only she had been prettier. I could have closed my eyes, Madam. Wouldn’t that make it harder to read… no offense to the braille or audiobooks. I’m thinking of those two stories on that app I saw this morning. Maddening being sexual. Because my desires aren’t sane, my existence found lacking… whatever. Sanity Is A Valuable Possession.

792 Days Without B III, Day 233 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 269 ~We Cannot Learn Without Pain~

Didn’t I say I’ll break a hand someday? It hasn’t happened. At least I’d have an excuse. Not to pet Virgil. Or pound away at keys for… reasons. And yes, the palms of my hands are filled with… Anyway, existence is pain. “We Cannot Learn Without Pain.”

Monday, March 27, 2023

Saga 269 ~We Cannot Learn Without Pain~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Or if I decided to be honest. I’m just a sucker for pain, as the song goes.

Of course, not a day goes by; I don’t think about the pain that defines this existence—my son’s death. Has a day gone by that I haven’t brought up Braxton Barks Bradford? And what did I learn from his leaving me? Well, more like his murder. THEY say at the Day Job with all the Humiliations Galore that goes on there. My face turns red. Well, tries. But it’s my hands, Madam. What color was the pen I used singing Braxton’s euthanasia? The Hell if I know. But my hands are red with his blood. Gray or black with B’s ash, hmm? I’m not opening that box again. What about B’s memorial, the money, and the memories? So many pictures I should look at.

Because everything hurts so much, and I’m still so effing STUPID. That happens when you’re busy pounding away on one head and ignoring the other. Oh, with these hands, Madam. With these hands. I can’t say I use them for anything that resembles love. LUST? I could go on and on about that. But first, I’m talking to you on Sunday, March 26, 2023. And I’m trying to keep my hands off my dick. Or from typing perverted desires. Why do you think I keep repeating The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident on January 11, 2022? And The Cherry Collision Thursday, February 16, 2023. I didn’t learn from one, so here I am, suffering. Will the pain subside after the lesson has been learned? Or vitamins…

And what did Virgil Vivi do to deserve the pain he’s in? He’s sitting in Braxton’s room because… I could give you an excuse Madam. I’ve been rereading a lot of quotes from all those dead fur baby books. About when I thought B III would be reincarnated and return. All the books I read only to remain STUPID. I should join the Republican Party. Only they don’t read, and the only burning I’m doing is the heat here. Me, being effing horny and waiting on my time in Hell. That’s right. The Day Job again. What’s there to learn? Madam, I want to join my boy. But he wasn’t smart enough to leave. Harsh! I decided that for him. We Cannot Learn Without Pain.

785 Days Without B III, Day 226 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Log 012 ~Can Only Learn Will~

Last week around this time I spoke about motivation, but today it’s been all about wasting time despite all the writing that I got done, and I can’t say I’m too proud of it, but I can always edit; am I serious? Can Only Learn Will

Saturday, July 13, 2019

Log 012 ~Can Only Learn Will~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Millionaire right now, and I don’t believe in Newspeak. A few days ago A&W said that even during a zombie apocalypse I wouldn’t get along with people. I hate it that he might be white; oh, excuse me, right. Anyway, I would like to think I would be reasonable considering zombies, but why do I want the dead to rise again? For one it might help with the novel I’m writing these days. Yesterday I asked the question about today and well 5000 words.

Can you picture this though, a BEAST taking care of an Android that becomes a serial killer? How about discovering a cure for the plague through sex with two girls at the same time? We also have another missing penis. Two sisters surrounded, and the Basic Bitch forming a religious cult. Sometimes Lady Lu people shouldn’t be allowed to write, speak, oh, and did I mention sing. More reasons for the undead, with all the moaning and everything. I have all but forgotten how much sex is in this pornographic travesty. Ways to keep me out of trouble without boobs come few and far between sorry to say. So have I learned anything today besides the fact that when I say I’m going to do something, I get it done.

If anything, it has been a repeat of everything, Youtube and Marz videos. B III is sleeping his life away, which would be better than what dad is doing. Enough of the pity, some bright side news besides writing? Bugs hate B III’s meds so no trip to the vet but he could still use a bath. BBQ is still good though the best is farther away according to some. One more day of keeping my pants on but how long will that last? Damn, I would say I have to relearn everything from those motivational books if I had time. I haven’t even been listening to my money playlist anymore. Even at the day job, it’s time for some hardcore rap. It gets me in the mood to deal with A&W and Captain Maple Leaf. I like white women, but the men make me mad as Hell these days.

As the song goes, This Is America but at the Day Job and with the real work, what’s that evil word? STUPID, if only people somehow Can Only Learn Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 120 ~Don’t Make Their Lies True~

I don’t bother to introduce myself; I won’t even say hello because if the conversation goes further than that, do you care how I am, should I care how you are, sooner or later you’ll lie to yourself about me. Don’t Make Their Lies True

Monday, October 22, 2018

Episode 120 ~Don’t Make Their Lies True~

Fifty-Sixth Rule Madam Justice

How To Make One Million Dollars, the first bit of change but why should I, you know it’s never me wanting to fit in, it’s what’s left inside me, and then I don’t recognize who I am anymore, yet one more reason I avoid mirrors.

Last week I talked about writing a decent sentence but how many people have seen that coming from me, no instead I believed the first lie from my “father” and that was “stupid” everything about me. Madam Justice I don’t want to be a downer today but isn’t ironic that with lies you can be president but the truth can put you in prison regardless of guilt or innocence, I heard again I was stupid in my “home,” and thus I became it. So I’ve spent my life wanting to be everything but, I read every day, I attempted to join Mensa, hell I don’t know how many books I’ve written, but I struggle with such small tasks making my father and everyone else smarter.

In the flesh, I am ugly, and like the Phantom, Quasimodo, or Cyrano de Bergerac, I began to wear masks, I hide upstairs; my downstairs barely has furnishings, and I don’t bother to fix the doorbell; how about the fact that I hide behind words? I don’t check mirrors because there is no point, I wear hoodies and dark colors, I keep earphones on always, the music a feeble attempt to drown out the lie that is becoming the truth.

Of course, I can’t neglect this, let’s say half-truth that got me here talking to you… how many times will I return to this; I was acting skeevy and creepy to a girl, fair enough, I started talking to Lady Lu and next thing you know I’m a stalker. Now if comparing a girl to Brazzers or Reality Kings is one thing, I get the same damn reaction if I write something sweet, of course, when “gentlemen” pay me for my words, they get girls panties to drop quick. Even now you might say I sound bitter, to one girl I’m too sweet, to another I attempt to nail her whenever she comes by, but my point is I don’t know my truth as I’m in many lies and falsehoods.

With that on repeat having never known myself since the cradle, believing and knowing I was worthless, nothing, and stupid and having the world echo that well… it started with one man and a bitch here or there; it can end with one man, me, that’s if I figure out who I am one day, Don’t Make Their Lies True.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 034 ~Noncommittal Grunts & Other Noises~

“Sup” is that even a word, now I’m not a believer in Newspeak but even that would be better than the noises I just happen to make on any given day. Noncommittal Grunts & Other Noises aren’t enough for me, not in this world anymore

Friday, August 4, 2017

Lesson 034 ~Noncommittal Grunts & Other Noises~

To My Lady Luna,
Seems like a polite way to start a letter though we’re just talking, I haven’t forgotten NO FEAR, you know “Indiana Gone” said the same thing about speaking to her once, however, I usually say whatever I want to her. Now there are times I’m just being lazy, maybe I’m pissed, for the past few days it’s been wondering why even waste the air on some but today the lesson is, this grunting I do.

You know, usually when I’m about to snap at people at work one of my main arguments is, when my dog barks he’s usually trying to accomplish something, most people are just adding to the depleting ozone layer. Maybe in a way, I’m just trying to do my part for the environment, surely just by practicing my native tongue as it were… silence. Don’t get me wrong, as I have said, everything has its place, and Luna I know I want to bring the ruckus but I just can’t.

“From now on you’ll have no identifying marks of any kind. You’ll not stand out in any way. Your entire image is crafted to leave no lasting memory with anyone you encounter. You’re a rumor, recognizable only as deja vu and dismissed just as quickly. You don’t exist; you were never even born. Anonymity is your name. Silence your native tongue.” Zed, Men in Black (1997)

I think I would fit in quite nicely don’t you think; maybe I’m hoping everyone will forget, I’m always trying and then on the other side of the coin, I remind “Okay” that “The Day” is coming soon, now what did I say once about having ulterior motives? Stop wasting your breath as “The Guilty Remnant” writes because talk is cheap and this is a time of action but wouldn’t me talking be a form of action in a way?

Which brings me back to today, and tomorrow, and the day after because the world is still not ending and as much as I hate to admit it I have to live in this one my lady. Now if I can find the strength to move my legs, to do what must be done at work, hell to even speak to Braxton, why can’t I trigger those same muscles to talk to an actual person.

You know they say it takes more muscles to frown than to smile… no wonder Caesar and the apes, kick our asses but we all can’t go on a rampage whenever we feel the need… I thought this was America? Maybe if I had parents that told me to kick ass or use my words but my parents told me everything I said was stupid and that I was nothing and so here we are.

It’s as if I devolved and please don’t bring up that stupid gun from the “Super Mario Bros.”, now we’re all devolving, I know a writer who wrote a great series about it but at the end of the day, the everyday person with their phone can still speak. When it comes to me though, I’m better off learning sign language, at least it would require me to put my phone down and possibly lift my head up. Maybe I started off too quickly, trying to move into the talking phase and I just need to focus on keeping my head up and looking people in the eye, for starters.

“I’m so sick and tired of my chin being up.” – Winifred “Fred” Burkle, Angel

Am I in pain all the time, life hurts like a bitch and speaking of “Ms. Seasons” anyway I can barely shuffle my feet and it’s like the slightest sound I make could just end everyone else’s universe instead of my own. I laugh, I snicker, and hmm, I want to go ahead and add ‘sup’ to the menu, which has become my normal greeting for everyone, I make sounds not words my dear Luna. Maybe when I went all homicidal on my imaginary friends there was no one left to really speak to… but what are you my dear Luna, writing is less crazy.

“I thought what I’d do was, I’d pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes. That way I wouldn’t have to have any goddam stupid useless conversations with anybody. If anybody wanted to tell me something, they’d have to write it on a piece of paper and shove it over to me. They’d get bored as hell doing that after a while, and then I’d be through with having conversations for the rest of my life. Everybody’d think I was just a poor deaf-mute bastard and they’d leave me alone . . . I’d cook all my own food, and later on, if I wanted to get married or something, I’d meet this beautiful girl that was also a deaf-mute and we’d get married. She’d come and live in my cabin with me, and if she wanted to say anything to me, she’d have to write it on a piece of paper, like everybody else” – The Catcher in the Rye

That’s not going to happen is it, Luna, it’s not the world I live in I’m afraid to say and what do we say now, no fear, I have to live in this world and this world requires speech. It must be easier for singers and spoken word artists and I haven’t given up on the notion that one day I might join their ranks.

“Haven’t you learned anything, not even with the approach of death? Stop thinking all the time that you’re in the way, that you’re bothering the person next to you. If people don’t like it, they can complain. And if they don’t have the courage to complain, that’s their problem” Paulo Coelho, Veronika Decides to Die

This is part of what today was about Luna, a test if you will, how would people respond, they would talk and I suppose I committed myself to speak, if not beginning the conversation then I could at least end them. More reasons I’m quiet, I can’t do the every day with fear, but then sex and violence to boot.

I told you I think about how my grand mommy made me watch an Oprah special about children being kidnapped which terrified me to the point of wearing a whistle around my neck or on my wrist for weeks because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to scream. A reason why horror doesn’t bother me and as far as sex goes, hell I can be a dirty talker but as long as the girl is moaning and screaming, I’ll consider it a job well done. Violence is a bit of the same, between bullets, bombs, and babes screaming, noise doesn’t bother me at all.

So at work today I was listening to my hardcore gangsta playlist, been getting into as of late thanks to “Saints Row” again, anyone I wanted to see if anyone would comment and if they did, I would have to respond. How about the woman at Walmart who tried to short me four bucks and anxiety be damned I made sure to get my money, I’ll consider that a win I think. Other than that it was a typical day, can’t say I’m super proud of myself but it was a step in the right direction and led me to my first real goal honestly.

No more grunting Lady Lu, no more silence, if somebody talks to me I will respond, I mean am I really afraid of what I will say when I get started if I could be as open as iPhone music. So that’s what I learned today, that’s what I know honestly has to change, to use my words, no fear, Noncommittal Grunts & Other Noises.

Tell me, Mr. Anderson… what good is a phone call… if you’re unable to speak? Agent Smith, The Matrix (1999)

I Will Have No Fear