Tag: Lonely

Tale 124 ~B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons~

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People want a reset button. I don’t. I’ll wait for someone to push the wrong one, as I’m too lazy to play the game. And This Is America where even doors are an issue, Mr. Cruz. I try not to push people’s buttons, but B, V. B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons.

Thursday, November 2, 2023

Tale 124 ~B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons~

1005 Days Without B III, Day 446 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s only been seven hours, and I’m already counting today as a loss. Nothing new.

Speaking of which, “my” bank account. Not that we talked about that much, Little B. Every day, you had a roof over your head, a collar around your neck, food in your bowl, and… Ain’t that what you’re supposed to do? I’m your child. You had me. I didn’t ask to be here. Whatever happened to that video, Braxton? Were you even here during that? The things I need to give up. But no worries, B III, it will never be Virgil Vivi. He’s here. Still collarless… May I remind you how you’d sometimes get your nail stuck in yours? And with all the button pushing, getting your collar off was just the worst. Did I finally find something I would not like to repeat?

Hell! To me, that’s called breathing. This is one more reason this week’s been horrible. All the time in the world, Braxton. And what have I done with it? I just push a button, son. And as the song goes, “What A Heavenly Way To Die.” Or at least I can pretend a lot B. “When we pretend that we’re dead.” That is not a game Virgil likes to play. Then again, I’m at the dining room table while his pillow is in the wash. Vomiting. Not this again, B. Especially with how next week will be. Fear, Pain? I’ll never forget the one when you left me here all alone. Didn’t I say Virgil’s here… How do I forgive myself? Just push a button.

But not one of these buttons has the word LIVE on the front. And even if one did B III… There’s always the one that sends me right back to sleep. We’re approaching 9:00 AM. Before I try lying away, you know what begins in November. NaNoWriMo? Um, No F… And I already screwed that up. I should wear pants with buttons more often. Only, it’s never a good thing anytime I leave the house, except for running with your Aunt Carolina. I hope you’re checking in on her and the doctors. There are so many buttons to push I could never be one. Only I’m not much of a writer either. Because existing Braxton, without your button nose, really sucks. B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

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 119 ~Braxton For 1,000, Virgil~

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So, 1,000 Days since Braxton’s been gone? Why does it hurt more to think of these 1,000 Days? And the 15 years that I spent with him? Than the 39 years of “my” existence, I’ve wasted? Over 1,000 words, never can say goodbye. Braxton For 1,000, Virgil

Saturday, October 28, 2023

Tale 119 ~Braxton For 1,000, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… Sigh. If I were, I wouldn’t say I’ve wasted 39 years of existence. But it’s been…

“Though a thousand words
Have never been spoken.”
1000 Words

1,000 Days. Lady Lu, I have let 1,000 Days negate the 15 years I spent with my son, B III. And I know it’s not right, fair, or just. But when have I ever been right? Or even been a fan of Math? It doesn’t sound like a lot. Hell! To me, it’s one messed up excuse to sit here. 1,000 Days AND more. That is what terrifies me. And it should scare Virgil to death as well. Seeing as how he’s been here for 441 Days of them. But how many more, Lady Lu? I was supposed to be up at 8:00 AM to take him outside. So why haven’t I? I’ll tell you. Because I know he’s hungry, and where’s his dinner, Lunalesca?

1,000 Days, time loses all meaning. So breakfast, lunch, um, ok, a snack Lady Lunalesca? At least I can say it’s not anger or lust that holds me back. It’s only shame and sloth now. And in Virgil’s 441 Days here, I’m sure he has cried over 1,000 times. It only took me ignoring Braxton’s cries once for him to end up “resting in a box. Lunalesca, the lesson. 1,000 Days later, I haven’t learned a damn thing. I would say 1,000 Yabbos later. But we both know I’ve seen more than 1,000. And that’s only with October. With me almost being 40… again, it’s October, but my latest E-Day continues to haunt me. Tis the season, isn’t it, Lu? But Braxton Barks Bradford’s ghost…

1,000 Days. I don’t know what I’m trying to do anymore. Do I want to forget him? No, not ever. So why have I procrastinated by reading over 1,000 words from all these emails? Lunalesca, I’ve been lamenting that I’m not participating in NaNoWriMo this year. But if I write 400 words a year, that’s 146,000 words. Lady Lunalesca, I’m doing nearly three NaNoWriMo challenges a year. And what have any of those words ever gotten, Luna? 1,000 Days saying goodbye to my son? Only I’ve never found Acceptance, Lady Luna. The other day, I petted V’s head and said, “You’re a good boy, B.” So, 1,000 days, ha. Days, words, dollars. One thousand more won’t bring Braxton back to me… Braxton For 1,000, Virgil

1,000 Days Without B III, Day 441 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 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

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I’m not right. When I know I’m wrong, I don’t exactly stop. Moral compass? All those don’t steal, don’t kill, and the rest. I know a few companies that would be pissed. My son is dead. And when X/Twitter is reporting on crimes. “Wrong Answers, B, V.”

Thursday, October 26, 2023

Tale 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

998 Days Without B III, Day 439 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s only 7:30 here, and I woke up at 4:00. Yesterday was even worse, B.

Not to sound like “Since U Been Gone…” I’ve looked at you as the angel on my shoulder, Braxton. But I would call you a little douche. And what was the middle ground? Just B. Every day, I wake up wishing you could just be. Because at the end of the day, your good dog moments beat out your bad puppy antics. It doesn’t work that way with men religiously. And when did I become one of the righteous? “I’m a man of God, but I don’t need a savior.” What I mean, Triple B, is I tried to “Do the Right Thing.” Saving you? Braxton, it couldn’t be done, and trying to keep you alive would have been a “Way Wrong Answer!” Killing you?

I swear B that there are no right answers in this world. And maybe that was your secret B III. You never answered questions. Hell! How many pictures do I have of your eyes, B? One of the few things Virgil Vivi has in common with you is that he doesn’t answer me. Wasn’t that one of the rules I had for you? Answer me so I know where you are in the room. It was the only way I could protect you. And again, did I? I failed miserably. And it’s not like you answer any of these letters anyway. I’m starting to feel like Bella from New Moon. Can I not think about Kristen Stewart or any girl? Another reason I’m late today

Yeah, Wednesday was a shit show. My head got slammed by a shelf Wednesday. But seeing how I woke up today, can I rule out a concussion? Anything that brings me closer to you. Only I’m not coming to The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, not even purgatory. The 9th Circle. And why? Taking “my” own existence would be a sin. And I can’t even get that right despite all my studies. That’s what I was thinking about Wednesday… researching sin. There’s always death, primarily zombies. I said something this week about monster/demon girls… Succubi, Witches, Heather Loralie, the list goes on —torture, Hentai, and grieving fur babies. There’s punishment, sleep deprivation, no sex… Ha! Only Masturbation. There’s being broke, zero simoleons. Sigh. Wrong Answers, B, V.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

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 112 ~Virgil, A Fool B…elieves~

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I believed… okay, wanted to that God would save my son. I never believed books on grieving would help me. And I don’t believe a cookbook would do me any good, so I never bought one. Yet I believe in a billion dollars! “Virgil, A Fool B…elieves.”

Saturday, October 21, 2023

Tale 112 ~Virgil, A Fool B…elieves~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… and other lies I tell myself. I’ll wake up on time. Won’t commit a crime. Dimes?

I swear, Lady Lunalesca, I should already be up and about, and for what? To spend more money that I don’t have. And didn’t I refuse to stay longer at the Day Job? For what? Lunalesca, sing it with me. “I need some sleep. It can’t go on like this.” But did I, Lady Lu? “No, I don’t think I will.” And I wish I could say it was my guilt about my son, Braxton. Hell! What about Little Virgil? How is three treating him? I’m still in bed, Lunalesca. Going outside is the last thing on my mind. But again, I’m going to have to go out regardless. I gotta eat. Or rather, I won’t let Virgil starve. Am I a monster? A fool?

Every day, Lady Lunalesca, I read. Do you want to know why? I heard in some motivational speech from Eric Thomas… I “believe.” Anyway, he said Bill Gates reads 50 books a year. So, plenty of people read way more, but Bill Gates is worth $104 Billion. I swear, Lady Lunalesca! Warren Buffet is worth $106 Billion. There are many ahead of them. For sure, but I don’t know their reading lists. But what am I reading this week? Hmm. Princess Tamer: A LitRPG Harem Adventure by Neil Bimbeau. First, that name… Pseudonym, seriously. Second, it’s not like I can tell the Man in the Mirror this week. I got way too much stuff to do, Lady Lu, and why is that? Because I believe…

Sundays, Lady Lunalesca. I haven’t “talked” to God since B. And talking to myself, huh? Yeah. That guy is thirty-nine and doesn’t know anything besides Endure and Survive. Or how, as Andrew Ryan put it, “A man chooses. A slave obeys.” Lunalesca, a fool? Lunalesca, I believe that a small nap won’t hurt me, and then existence abandons me. Every day, I believe I deserve Hell for what happened to B III. Justice, revenge, whatever. Yet I treat the phone with much more care than I did him. Lunalesca, what could I give up? The Power of Love? I wish. As Todd put it, I believe in The Power of the, um, you know Lu. And then the things I do… Virgil, A Fool B…elieves

993 Days Without B III, Day 434 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 110 ~Virgil Sounds Off Braxton~

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I didn’t know V was howling. For a few weeks, he only coughed like hacking up a lung. Then his howl when I left, vomiting and barking at a possum. Hell! All I’m saying is don’t you effing die to myself. “Virgil Sounds Off Braxton”

Thursday, October 19, 2023

Tale 110 ~Virgil Sounds Off Braxton~

991 Days Without B III, Day 432 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Would I be better off if I lied to you? Sorry B, highway, government, time-travel…

This is why I’m talking to you today. “Good morning, and in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night.” Since wrestling isn’t on tonight, I could watch The Truman Show. NXT was on Tuesday, and I didn’t watch any of it either B III. Roxanne Perez, Piper Niven… And yet, I wonder why I like M Anime so much. It’s the best of both worlds, but we’ll get to that. I should keep it in my pants, but Braxton Barks. Remember when your Aunt Carolina would come by, and you’d be awfully busy with your toy? And she had to let you run all over her massive pair of… Um, anyway, you were very vocal, liking her, not liking her.

But it would be nice if you kept her in your thoughts today. Triple B, please. Probably me, too. Wednesday… well, today for me. I’m thinking about what I have to do. Highways B… Thirty-nine and counting, unfortunately. And the only time I’ve taken a trip like this is when your Aunt was getting married. She’s not anymore, but I’m still scared to death. Hell! She is my friend, and you are my son. And that was enough to give me courage in 2019. And why do I need to talk about courage, your Aunt Carolina, and car rides? Braxton, we’re talking a few miles to prove to Uncle Sam that I am, whatever you say I am. Well, not you specifically. To you, I was Daddy. To them… sigh.

What about to Virgil? He’s sitting at the door in your room, but for once, he’s quiet. You should hear him when I leave the house. I’m sure you have. Have you been scaring him? I’m sorry, Triple B, for my attempts at Halloween humor. Will I even get to see it? Do I have no faith in my driving ability? Or that of other people? Remember sitting with me, Braxton? With my luck, I’ll even end up in Hell, a ghost or a zombie, with no chance of seeing you. If I make it back, I’m the monster or whatever Virgil thinks I am, All to defend a name I hate. And I don’t call Virgil my son. Yet, ever… Virgil Sounds Off Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 108 ~Virgil Looks To B~

WillLeave a comment

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