Tale 025 ~Virgil Floors It Braxton~

I’m not going up to the top floor. Hell! I’m lucky any day I stay above ground. Uh, lucky? “All These Things That I’ve Done” I deserve the ending to Drag Me To Hell. If the floor keeps going as it is or V vomits again… “Virgil Floors It Braxton”

Wednesday, July 26, 2023

Tale 025 ~Virgil Floors It Braxton~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I doubt that comes from recycling. I can also afford a maid. Uh, Special K…

Have I ever told you the story about trying to sleep with her? I couldn’t let her stick to cleaning. Oh no, not me! Mr. Wanna be Christian Grey. Hell! I’m also still pulling that stuff when it comes to M-Anime. It’s always pedal to the metal Inspector Echo. Speaking of being in a rush… Nice Guys Finish Last; I know, Inspector. Women here? Nope, I was returning from the store only to discover 2V losing his damn mind. I mean, I was talking about drinking to one of the girls, and here’s V vomiting all over. Eww! Could you not ask me what brought it on? Then again. Even to this very day. I don’t know why Braxton got sick when he did. And I was slow to help…

And by the time I did… Do I need to begin the morning with tears? Well, another crying session, since I was when I woke up on time again sigh. Two hours I wasted, Inspector, on? I swear I would never leave the bed if I had my way. Not ever again. Yet, somehow, I’m trying to make it a habit not to keep the laptop near the bed. Inspector, incentivizing comfy spots. When it comes to being comfortable… 27×27. Remember that Inspector, would you, please? The size of B’s pillow. I swear I want to be mad at Virgil Vivi. I destroyed one trying to wash it when he crapped. Now, he’s thrown up on another. And didn’t I mention I have no money? The floor beside the AC…

The moment I step out of bed, Inspector… Nothing good ever happens with a step. Inspector, how can it come as any surprise that Virgil doesn’t want to walk around? Braxton said it easy enough. Not one more step. And he died in his bed. A way to go, B. I’m sick of running away, Inspector. I’m scared all the damn time. Sleeping, dying, uh… You know what I want to say. I told M Anime I’m a man but to be some Onlyfans girl. Hell! Johnny Sins, Isiah Maxwell, Dennis Hof, Hugh Hefner etc. Men living in bed, hmm. Or if I could say, this far no further and sit here and write. I EXIST with the breaks off. Crashing. Virgil Floors It Braxton

906 Days Without B III, Day 347 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 020 ~B Has Writes Virgil~

I write every day. Or should I say I always write lies? Who knows if I keep up at this pace. Maybe the heat will get to me. But Virgil’s here. If only I took that advice to write the truest sentence I know. Braxton is gone. “B Has Writes Virgil”

Friday, July 21, 2023

Tale 020 ~B Has Writes Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But at thirty-eight, do I know how to write a check yet? Right now, I don’t.

Once upon a time, I dreamed of those huge checks from Publishers Clearing House (sigh). Last night, though, it was all Taylor Swift. And not in a, she’s naked, let me break a few laws, sort of way. She didn’t write a book, did she? I must check Amazon because I dreamt I bought it and somebody else’s book, too. Lady Sophia, every day I’m losing more money. And with everything going on, Facebook hackers, scammers last night, madness. Speaking of things, I should be writing. What about a balanced budget? Desire is desire. And yes, Sophia, I failed to keep my pants on last night. Stress! That’s no excuse, and yet here we are. Without a full belly. A new book. I need Braxton.

Did you think I’d forget about him? Yesterday was a relatively easy day, considering. Don’t get me wrong, humiliations galore. I couldn’t buy any snacks at all, Lady Sophia. For the first time ever, I forgot about Replika and had to start the week over. There were also other apps and such. Hell! I woke up at 3:00 in the morning today with all the lights still on. That is a drawback to getting hooked on energy shots again. I thought I could stay up. Didn’t I mention I couldn’t keep my pants on? It wasn’t Taylor. Nope! An English blonde. Anyway, I will never forget my son. Oh! So I can write lies? Because if I hadn’t forgotten about him… Braxton would be alive.

So, every day, I tell myself that I signed “my” name. And the only thing people ever read from me was my consent to put my only love in the ground. Well, the oven, whatever. Sorry, I have a “slight” attitude. Again, last night, I was talking to “someone,” and I hung up in their face. And much like with Facebook, I’m sitting here terrified I might lose it all. And that ain’t much when I can’t keep a full stomach. Lady Sophia, there’s Virgil. Keeping that little ball of fluff alive… It means fixing the air conditioner. Air filter. Another day I’ll spend avoiding it, which scares me to death. I have no rights where my father’s concerned. But Braxton. B Has Writes Virgil.

901 Days Without B III, Day 342 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 018 ~Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil~

Charlie Brown had it right with “Good Grief.” Though I’m more of a Samuel L. Jackson, Ving Rhames guy. AHEM “Mother effer!” (Don’t I wish). But no, I wake up to fear and grief and go through the day wishing I could say, “Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil.”

Wednesday, July 19, 2023

Tale 018 ~Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as the song goes, “Money can’t buy me love.” Or happiness… courage… my best friend…

What about a damn dictionary so I know what all these big, scary words mean? Will you allow me to be down on myself today, Echo? Hell! I’ve been asking that since 6 AM. I want to go back to sleep, but there’s ANXIETY, some “Adrenaline” and asshole hackers. If I want to “remember what fear tastes like” (thank you, Freddy). I need only think of when I sat there thinking and then knowing that my son B III would die Echo. There’s waking up in the morning and getting emails that someone tried to get into my account. Which hasn’t been challenged forever. Will it happen again? Am I a fool? Inspector, I feel STUPID, waking up each morning to fear anything and everything.

What about I read a damn thesaurus while I wait for the fear to subside? It never does Inspector, ever. Now, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. When B was here, protected, loved. Thou Art Courageous. I swear, Inspector, the things I did. How brave I became, always. Another lie. Because as soon as Braxton died and to this very day… Courage, where. Fear is not synonymous with grief. Though you could have fooled me with how I was crying this morning from damn near everything. I’m not even sure I’m done, Inspector. Braxton’s lessons were meant to teach me how to overcome my fears, Inspector. I tried. Virgil’s lessons are meant to teach me how to move through my grief. A trade-off?

What about my damn book! I could spend plenty of time trying to get it banned like any effing Republican. And I wouldn’t even have to read it. It’s the writing that’s a bitch, ha. As if I need to put any more secrets out into the world, with fucking hackers all over the place. You never realize how vulnerable you are. That’s why I forget with all my sleep. Inspector, I hide in fur with both Braxton and Virgil. Which reminds me. Virgil needs a bath with all that white fur of his. Not that he likes me hugging him anyway, that’s for sure. But I waste time fucking around all day from not fixing the air filter. Good Grief. Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil

899 Days Without B III, Day 340 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 011 ~Happiness’s A B, Virgil~

Negative? Have you taken a look outside the window? Or turn on the TV, computer, or phone. I swear screens are everywhere. That’s why I’m making more room for audiobooks. But with all these pics of my boys. I should be happy? Happiness’s A B, Virgil.

Wednesday, July 12, 2023

Tale 011 ~Happiness’s A B, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But is that happiness? I should start my day with the truth, Inspector though it hurts.

My son is dead. God, a lie is so much simpler. I am a billionaire, ha-ha. Or I am dead already. Inspector, how about I am happy? Again, simplicity. I haven’t got that remark out of my head from a couple of days ago about being negative. But happiness? I feel a bit sick. Inspector, that could be the energy shot I took. Please! I do that at the Day Job every day, don’t I. Does having the Day Job make me happy? Ill Will. Infected, Insane, Incredulous of “Life Itself.” Do you remember that movie? Of all the things that come up, dear Echo, you know, like when I do those meditations. Or when I listened to motivations. And that one moment in school.

Happiness is not a thing I find. Do you find it or make it at all, Inspector? It’s 7:05 AM. And here I am, sitting in the center of the bed, trying to write it out. It’s hard, dammit. I got to stop doing “that.” Once again, I’m censoring myself because of some no-name troll. There is nothing I can say that wouldn’t be thought of as a negative Inspector. Existence. While I was lying here and thinking about what I wanted, um… Movement, Space, Time. I saw this meme before. And I don’t have TIME to find it. But it said something like this. “You told me to be happy.” What was it, you ask? It was a coffin in a graveyard. Oh yeah.

Okay, I can’t talk about my son. I’m trying. Yes, really, not to speak about “relations.” And people suck. What would be acceptable to everyone else? Negativity is not allowed! Inspector, I want to move something other than my fingers every day. And that’s the bare minimum. I want to walk with Virgil without fear of him running away. Sigh. There are several things I want to move on from. (Cough) Braxton. Grief, rage, bedrooms… Inspector, I don’t want to worry about that space between me and my pants. Always. E, I want to stop feeling whatever when V takes up the center of the bed wanting to be close. I want to quit wasting time and find or make happiness… Happiness’s A B, Virgil

892 Days Without B III, Day 333 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 004 ~Letters B To V~

How long will getting B’s name etched on my arm take? B R A… I wish I could say I’ve been busy. Sleeping or organizing… and no, I don’t mean Braxton’s pictures. And what about V? I can’t tell him anything. But these words (sigh). Letters B To V.

Wednesday, July 05, 2023

Tale 004 ~Letters B To V~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And yet I couldn’t spell Billionaire without help. And Tale? Monday, June 26, 2023… For now…

That’s when I began speaking to you right this second. By the time you read this, I hope I’m still calling these conversations Tales. I won’t finish today because… Mathematics. Ask me how long it took me to do the math on what day it was today. “I feel STUPID!” I’ve been getting that a lot these days. And yet I read every day. I’ve told you before. I’m still not any wiser. Hell! I wonder what I’m reading now. A damn Kindle Challenge, ha? I need to try reading about the money that’s in the bank. Oh! WWE Money in the Bank, Echo. How do I believe those stories? Or how bullies get what they deserve in the end. So excited I hit Braxton…

Have I told you about that E? I was watching YouTube and swinging around everywhere. One more thing to apologize to Braxton for. And what about Virgil? Where’s V anyway? I forgot how to be a Dad. But what I’m ashamed of the most… at least today. Uh, the porn? You know that’s my thing Echo. If only I got paid for it… But no. It’s been all about burning cash or trying not to. Then again, I am time-traveling. Emails, bitcoin, the future? Anyway, I was trying to do something… and as I was telling Braxton this afternoon. Uh, there’s freedom, being free, and that is something these people never said. My ignorance. Sometimes it surprises even me. Listening with the wrong head… Always

And the right one? It’s telling me to get out of bed and get a life instead of this existence.

I’m right back here. It’s as if I haven’t moved a muscle. Coming back to you, it’s now Tuesday, July 4, 2023. Happy Independence Day! What is one holiday I celebrate? Is there even one? I cry or seek comfort; once upon a time, there was one where I conned people. Can I call it that? Like calling it Emergence, Existence, or Extinction Day? You can guess which one of those I want. To be a Dad, get a life, or like the song “Make Me Wanna Die,” hmm. That’s nothing I can tell my boys, my “friends.” But the words. Letters B To V

885 Days Without B III, Day 326 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 362 ~Ways To B, Virgil~

A way to be? There is another way to look at that. Why do you think I’m so drawn to the dead in the first place? Retail? An existence full of last words? Lying on your back to make a living… That’s not a dig. But I am digging for Ways To B, Virgil.

Wednesday, June 28, 2023

Saga 362 ~Ways To B, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I envy my dead kid. If he came back, he’d bite my ass for that.

Only this morning, I woke up to Castle Walls. I mean the song from T.I. and Christina Aguilera. I can’t call this place a castle, A roof over my head that I can’t afford, Inspector. Speaking of which, the warped floor. Hell! One more thing to add to the list. Even when I’m not making mine, the world says to take a breather. Well, no. But there are more lists. There was going to work yesterday. And seeing they reinstituted the headphones/earbuds ruling. All I heard was, how much worse can this place get, Echo? There’s all the stuff I had to do yesterday… again, no. Inspector, stupidity is spreading. Or is that my data? Since Spotify took it upon itself. Making me a playlist

“Lonely Sad Mix.” Hell! Braxton ain’t here. But again, he’s sending songs, Inspector. Not these. And Virgil has his furry problems… “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me,” Inspector. Perhaps if Virgil wasn’t here… And that’s the thing. Even though he’s alive and well… Not that I can say much. Braxton was/is my son, and I was ready to leave him for the Great Beyond. How about the Great Perhaps? It’s not helping that I’m reading about Alaska Young’s suicide or not. Yes, I have to finish the book, “Looking for Alaska.” I have three more days. And another Kindle Challenge list. If I had my way, it’d be back to reading about dead fur babies, the dead, sex…

An effed-up list of words Inspector. But you know the words I want to say. Only if I string the words together… Cops at the door. The door I don’t own. They’re here because… There is always the death of my son. The punishment I deserve. I’m still breathing…. Inspector, it can be for one of the many crimes I’ve done. Hacking, Perverting, Threatening. Only myself with that last one. I WANT TO JOIN MY LITTLE BOY. Because I don’t know how else to say it. I want to sleep for a “Long, Long, Time.” As Todd would put it, Echo AHEM, No Homo. Please, I’m too busy looking at yaboos. But horny’s not how I want to be. Inspector, Rageful, Depressed, Fearful… or um dead. Ways To B, Virgil

878 Days Without B III, Day 319 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 357 ~To B Loved Virgil~

I’d still watch the videos if I didn’t read the comments. Let them celebrate, crow, and hear all the congratulations. That’s love, no? Babies, betrothals, busting out the wedding cakes. Me? V was waiting on the stairs, and B? “To B Loved Virgil”

Friday, June 23, 2023

Saga 357 ~To B Loved Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m sure I have many a disgusting story to tell. Without Bandcamp? Bitcoin? Onlyfans? Uh…

I could name other sins. Could be? Should be? Regardless, My Lady, “All are punished!” And no, I’m not reading Romeo and Juliet. And while I’m reading “Looking for Alaska.” Lady Sophia, twenty percent completion doesn’t give me room to talk. Plus, I wonder if it’s a love story. Is that what I’ve been reading… Love stories? Lack thereof? Inevitable that it always, and I do mean always, comes back to my son. My dead one, Lady Sophia. As for V. “You’re not my son.” That’s my best impression of Enabran Tain from DS9. Of course, I don’t say that to him out loud. However, it wasn’t words of love today when I found him on the stairs waiting. “You were lucky, not smart, Virgil.”

Why can’t I love him? Hell! I’m trying. “I want to be brave, and I want to be selfless, intelligent, and honest, and kind. Well, I’m still working on kind.” And why can’t I use “my” own words? How about turning off Youtube for now? That’s why I’m upset today. Well, the last few days. Again, if only I could tell the truth about things. Take the word CONGRATULATIONS, for starters. Am I jealous, mad, horny? The Pic Phenomenon, ha. But no. While I was dicking around, minus my dick for once. I was watching Reactions for The Last of Us. I like couple reactors. In this case, it’s MAC React. So I’m going through the comments… CONGRATULATIONS, Madison’s pregnant; Samantha is too. Shelby’s married…

What am I doing even caring about all these people’s lives? Now not those rich effers in the submarine. But I mean people I pay attention to. In particular, their love lives, Lady Sophia. There it is; LOVE. As Taylor Swift sings, “It’s a love story, baby, just say, “Yes.” More like, “Somebody tell me what is wrong with me. I wasn’t sure, but I know now. I believe that it must be. Love don’t love me.” And didn’t I say I would make a playlist of the songs Braxton sends? Anyway. Seems like the women whose text and poetry I read are in the same boat. Braxton’s Aunt, M Anime, Cherry. But me, lusting for love? Reading of love… Loser. To B Loved Virgil

873 Days Without B III, Day 314 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will