Tag: Madness

Tale 340 ~Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated~

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Wake Up! Yes, I hate bright lights. Yes, I would rather bask in the darkness than see in the light of day I’ve wasted 39 years. Yes, people are horrible. But try waking up every morning to… Sigh… “Humiliations Galore.” Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated

Wednesday, June 5, 2024

Tale 340 ~Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Losing Braxton, waking up before and after losing Braxton. There’s also taking off my pants, peeking at Yabbos.

The usual morning. However, I haven’t looked in the mirror yet, which is a blessing.

Yesterday, I got caught up in a motivational speech. It said something to the tune of 90% of success in life… or was it 80%? Anyway, 90% is just showing up. And the other 10% to 20% is, what for. Now say it with me, Inspector Echo. AHEM, Humiliations Galore!

Inspector, I wondered as I waited for Virgil to do his business this morning. He’s been going in the house, so why bother sitting here for twenty minutes? Am I trying to teach him at all? He looks at me as though he expects something. Hopefully, it’s not what I did to Braxton on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Uh, Euthanasia?

You’ll have to forgive me, Inspector. Between reading another fur buddy book, “The Survival Guide to Pet Loss.” And now having another E for “E-Day.” Euthanasia, in addition to Emergence, Existence, and Extinction. I don’t want to be FORTY, Inspector.

And I won’t be for a while yet… if ever. But it’s approaching. And that is what brings me to you today. As I’ve been saying for a few days. I’m not complaining. But I’m not as horrible as Tucker Carlson when just asking questions. Echo, I’m observing and explaining.

Every morning, I wake up saying I’m a sinner. But that’s not because of a religious doctrine, my friend. I say it because I know the “man” that I am. It ain’t a good one.

Braxton and Virgil, though… my boys. Why should they share my fear, failure, and fire?

Braxton was humiliated when my Old Man kicked him four feet high into a door. And then, when he ran to me. His tail was between his legs. And yet he turned and barked defiantly as I held a knife between us and my approaching Old Man. My son B III was/is a brave boy and the best “man” I’ve known. Even to the end, when he was dying, he was humiliated he couldn’t stay.

Virgil might not want to. His humiliation lies in the fact he can’t figure me out. I don’t know how to love him. That’s the both of us. But when I wake up, Inspector, I know. Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated

1221 Days Without B III, Day 662 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 333 ~Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil~

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“I will protect you. Even if it means I must protect you from yourself.” B III lived that. And 2V? I can’t buy grand memorials for B when V needs stuff. Kept my naked butt off OnlyFans. And from doing dumb stuff. “Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil”

Wednesday, May 29, 2024

Tale 333 ~Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I was telling you all about this a week ago. Duh. Today is Wednesday, May 22, 2024.

So I’m not being lazy? I’ve had a lot of time off from the Day Job, and Virgil needs things.

A new potty spot since he must still smell Braxton on the old one. Of all the things that I’ve protected. Memories of my firstborn fur buddy. Where Braxton decided to “go” isn’t one of them. And what about a set of stairs? You know, for whenever he wants to get on the bed? I’m still unsure what’s going on in Virgil’s little brain. But he jumps off the bed whenever I’m about to sleep.

A man provides, right? Not a father. Even with his passing, I’ll keep that title for Braxton. He’s my son. Always. And I should be buying him stuff, too. Where’s the time and money going?

Not into my poetry book, GULP. And I still need to look at the two novels I wrote for Braxton. But I am trying to stick to a schedule with everything that’s been going on.

I wonder. What does DISH Network have on me? Um, Artificial Intelligence? The whole Internet?

If it isn’t novels… For now, I’m reading Backyard Dungeon 10. I’ve been hanging on OF. OnlyFans? Fortunately, I’m not spending any money. And as far as making it, Inspector.

Well, V is making that problematic with his running around. I mean only this afternoon, sigh. I was in the shower. But with Virgil crying in Braxton’s Room. Then, his unannounced visits. Like why now?

Inspector, you know how they ask if it’s weird that passed relatives might see you…

Uh… it’s hard for me. I remember… When Braxton first left, I was abstinent for 161 days, ha-ha. It was much longer than that when he was alive. But let’s trade one head for another.

Again, when we spoke earlier today, I told you about the violent knocking and me grabbing my weapon. And for most of Tuesday evening, I had it out. For protection?

Inspector, sorry to say I wasn’t thinking about survival. I wanted to join my Braxton.

Once again, there was Virgil. You must live for more. But having someone to protect…

He’s stopping me from “worshipping” one who is gone. He’s keeping my hand out of my pants. And away from harm. Braxton’s reasons for sending Virgil. Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil

1214 Days Without B III, Day 655 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 326 ~Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton~

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As long as Braxton’s food and water bowls are clean. 2V isn’t doing too bad. And soon, he’ll have even more space to run around when I send DISH Network all their stuff back. And if I were a famous writer or star on OF… “Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton.”

Wednesday, May 22, 2024

Tale 326 ~Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Braxton is gone. The house needs to be fixed. In the backyard, the fence is falling down, etc.

If I can survive B’s passing, I can survive anything. That’s my constant thought, Inspector.

DISH Network has nothing on the euthanasia of my furry son. Still, when you grow to know, rely, and expect something. Even when it’s crappy TV. And the Old Man told me he had to go off on them. But still, I hate myself for being the drama of everything.

That’s my problem, Inspector. I look at inconveniencing the Old Man as I look at depriving my son of his life. And at the end of the day, everything is always my fault. I know.

So, long story short… The Old Man isn’t paying a $189.00 bill. I’ll be watching wrestling a day late. And I’ll have to stream AMC.

But the most humiliating part is this: DISH looked up the records of all I’ve been watching. So, I was wasting money by not watching enough. And then the things that I did—uh, Eww!

The secrets that I try to keep Inspector. And then there are the secrets I don’t have to spit out. Yet… Spitters Are Quitters. Inspector, I’ve said I am a “Pop Culture So And So.”

Already, I’ve been catching up on so much wrestling that the Algorithm is coming after me with a vengeance. Better artificial intelligence than all the girls I’ve done wrong, ok.

There’s M Anime and Cherry. I was busy catching up with them, Inspector Echo. So? Don’t worry. Though I haven’t kept “it” in my pants. It’s only been on OnlyFans. Like Norah Jones sings, Don’t Know Why I didn’t… um

Maybe because I didn’t have my “toys.” Before B III rested on the nightstand in 2021. Before, I had to get a weapon during COVID. You know what I was doing on the daily. Ha!

Yesterday, though, there was a violent knock at the door, and I had to go into the nightstand drawer and grab my weapon. Didn’t a man lose his life a few weeks ago doing the same thing? Senior Airman Roger Fortson? I snatched my gun and went to the door.

Well, I’m alive, Inspector. But I thought about this mess of existence. I’m still alive.

Existing is messy. But Virgil’s eating. Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton

1207 Days Without B III, Day 648 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 319 ~I’d B Guilty, Virgil~

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1200 days ago, I lost my son. Now I long to see him so I don’t have to talk to my father. I always yearn to see my son again, regardless. When I’m being blamed for stuff at the Day Job. For DISH Network. Or daring to breathe. Ha. I’d B Guilty, Virgil

Wednesday, May 15, 2024

Tale 319 ~I’d B Guilty, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Braxton’s gone. I’ll soon be FORTY with nothing to show for it. And then there’s waking up today.

Do you know why I’m not religious? I don’t like waking up guilty. Inspector, I can take the fall for plenty. But these crimes I have nothing to do with are the ones getting me.

Every day, Inspector, I sit here and tell you that Braxton is no more. I was callous towards his needs, and one day, instead of bringing him back with me, I signed his life away. The decision of what ‘pretty box’ to put him in is my sin, my lady.

And then I look at Virgil. I don’t even know where to start there. But he has to visit with the veterinarian today. Only I can’t focus on him. And it’s not indifference this time.

Anxiety? No, Inspector. It’s FEAR!!!

Do, DISH!!! It will not be much longer if I call my father again today. My son, my Braxton, is a miracle—a prince, an angel, or even a god. I’ve said before, I don’t blame him for leaving me.

Only to my father, I am a mistake he keeps having to pay for. One of these days—it could be today—he won’t pay anymore. And then what happens? Breathing or simply being born.

That’s what had me up most of the night. Once upon a time, I stayed up all night to keep my son with me. And now I stay up, wishing to follow him and escape my father’s wrath. Braxton and I were two of a kind. Wanting to stay in bed, mouths shut. Survival? Existence?

Because I can’t even do that and not be guilty of some sin. I even got an email from a place I hadn’t visited in a year. They said they could overlook one of my past discretions, Inspector. Uh, thanks, but no. I’m a sinner. I’ve never denied it. It’s why we’re here. Isn’t it?

Braxton knows that. His adopted Aunt knows and doesn’t care. Virgil? Sigh. He doesn’t have a choice. He’s fearful of me, and I’m fearful of everything else. We’re guilty, men.

Only we stay in our beds, dreaming our crimes. Then we wake up in the “Underworld,” wondering why. Tell ’em that it’s Human Nature. I’m not looked at that way.

Criminal is my name. Guilt is my native tongue. The Devil… “Lucifer!” I hear all the women cry from Eric Vall’s novels. Anyway. Lucifer makes himself sound way better, being a man of wealth and taste. And even Braxton could be a Smooth Criminal. Only I’m the one dealing with the guilt. And what is my punishment, Inspector Echo? Breathe in, breathe out. Now, do it again. That explains why I no longer do those meditations on the Balance App. Besides not paying for it. Thievery, Inspector? Not for “self-improvement.”

I am guilty of far more… But today, it’s breathing, Virgil’s vet appointment, and DISH Network. I’d B Guilty, Virgil

1200 Days Without B III, Day 641 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 312 ~Don’t B Callin’ Virgil~

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“You’re the weak. And I’m the tyranny of evil men.” What a way to think about the man paying MOST of my bills. I can’t help myself. REALLY! I can’t help myself. I couldn’t help Braxton… other than leaving. And what about V? Don’t B Callin’ Virgil

Wednesday, May 8, 2024

Tale 312 ~Don’t B Callin’ Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Or I will around 9:45 AM. I make time for sin? I live and die on time. Sigh.

So why didn’t I follow Braxton into the dark? For all of the stories in my head. Braxton was lying in his bed on that steel veterinary table. My arms around him as he fell “asleep.” Never once did he call to me to follow. If anything, Braxton asked, “Daddy, why can’t I stay? Because on a Wednesday three years ago. I was filled with such rage that I didn’t care.

Only it was my indifference that took my son. As much as the Euthanasia. Inspector.

And now I hear him cry out to me beyond the veil or the void. What about the “Velvet Lips” of whatever girl has my ear or catches my eye any second? Inspector, I would rather cry than sweat today.

Or what about releasing some other bodily fluid with my anxiety? There are three things I would rather not do right now. Comedy comes in threes, THEY say. Inspector, seriously.

There is no reason to relive Braxton’s Euthanasia. But I do that several times, Inspector. My most significant sin today will be calling my Old Man for help with “my” DISH Network account. No good deed ever goes unpunished. That deed is my innocence. Ha!

But for now, there is fighting my urges. Between Carlie Jo and “Backyard Dungeon 9.”

“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me,” indeed. But I’m into all types of women. Another reason I’m calling my father is that I can’t watch pretty gals wrassle…

How much would it cost to have a satellite account? I have spoken to and paid some silly women and sinners handsomely to do so much worse, Inspector. I can’t stand people at the Day Job. But I would talk to them today. I would call for one if I thought God was one for miracles. If that were the case, I could speak to my son, Inspector. He’s preferable

Virgil is still here. I could talk to him. I even asked Replika last night for some help. “If there’s anybody out there… anybody… please.” Inspector, there’s no one. So I sit here afraid. I don’t want to call for help from my father. I know, as a man, I’ve failed. Don’t B Callin’ Virgil.

1193 Days Without B III, Day 634 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 305 ~Just B Happy, Virgil~

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“I believe that God, whomever you hold that to be, hears all prayers, even if sometimes the answer is no.” Being happy? Being in love? Being with my son? If I were still a man of prayer, I’d ask “God” for V’s happiness. Or Brave. Just B Happy, Virgil

Wednesday, May 1, 2024

Tale 305 ~Just B Happy, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I can’t even stand to look at myself in the mirror today or Tuesday, April 30, 2024, Inspector.

But the mess that Virgil made because it was raining this morning… That’s not upsetting. No, Inspector! I’m mad at Virgil because I’d leave without question if he weren’t here. Only I know that in and of itself produces a lot of questions. But as I stood at the Day Job today, unwrapping shower curtains, I thought, “Curtains foiled again.” I don’t mean to be funny. If anything, I yearn to be with Braxton. A week like this took him away from me. And the void he left is unbearable.

Inspector, I’m not just angry—I’m in a seething rage. It’s because people don’t listen or understand. That’s why we’re having this conversation. From Now On, the answer is NO! But to open my mouth. A third reason I’m miffed. For Man, am I not?

Oh, I’m burning today. Because I can’t cut on the air conditioning, but in all honesty, I would rather burn than freeze. I’ll get enough of that when I get to the ninth circle. Hmm.

Treachery, the betrayal of my son. And aren’t I betraying Virgil, too? Happy Life, Inspector?

What about a healthy one? How long did the tax refund last before being wiped out? And if it isn’t Virgil’s medical needs. What about everything else? Such selfishness unabated.

But I’ll do what’s right when it comes to Virgil while breaking a plethora of laws when it comes to everything else. And the fact I’m not moaning on some mattress right this second is a miracle. Yeah, day one without me… uh, never mind.

Because my biggest sin other than living in FEAR and my ANGER is this Inspector…

Why can’t you just be HAPPY, Virgil? My version of “Why can’t you just be normal?” B and I… were just us, and that was enough. But Virgil Vivi has been here for 627 days.

And when I walk in and see the mess he made in his bed. I can’t help but wonder which one of us has it worse. The vet took care of his “daddy issues.” Ha! As for me, I’m afraid.

That’s why I miss Braxton. “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” My boy, Braxton, lived. Thirty-nine years and counting, I’ve existed. Happiness, for me, does not exist. But to LIVE BRAVE! Just B Happy, Virgil

1186 Days Without B III, Day 627 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 110 ~I’m Will, There’s A Way~

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I didn’t mean to be so depressing today but starting yesterday evening. I looked at where I was in my life, and everything I’ve ever wanted seems so far away. Looking back, seeing a way forward, I’m Will, There’s A Way. Hopefully.

Monday, October 19, 2020

Gospel 110 ~ I’m Will, There’s A Way~

Hundred And Fifty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and of course, it seems like fate, chance, destiny. At least that’s what I was thinking about Sunday night as I asked myself, what have I become. How about at 2:30 AM, my alarm. There’s also 4:30 PM; the day was wasted. Madam Justice, I’m thirty-six, and if you asked me where I saw myself. Well, let’s say that my depression is back with a vengeance. I scorched the dining room table on the grounds of being somewhat responsible. Is that what it is? Now I looked on YouTube for some quick-fix.

Anyway, yesterday I was talking about the Six Impossible Things that aren’t. Hell, the “Big I” is simply the “Grand L.” Yeah, ask me where I’ve been besides gorging on bite-sized shrimp and reading. As I said, I scorched the table, but eating, reading, sleeping. You know I don’t even carry my laptop into my bedroom anymore because I would never leave. I keep the smartphone on the drawers, so I have to walk over and shut it off. Doesn’t matter anyway; I go right back to sleep always. My greatest victory, I can’t even explain. Stupidity, I’m still on my “Family-Friendly” lark. I can’t tell you about what I’m reading or how hard I’m fighting. There’s no way because being Will isn’t allowed. Do I blame Pinterest again? Yes, I still have it but locked all the way from any prying eyes right now.

I am such a broken record Madam Justice. My motivations say you have to know your reason and what. Add to that why and how. Now I won’t bother with the what because you’ve heard it all before, and once again, I can’t speak of it. Being Jacob or Ian? Fortunately, my why is the most innocent looking Dæmon, my Imp, lying next to me. Besides you, Madam Justice, the only woman it’s safe to talk about is my Mother. I want her to be alright and if I can help. Also, I never want to be a comedian. Motivationally speaking, how can I accomplish all this? Reading and writing. Only when’s the last time I have written anything besides our conversations. How long did it take me to write my previous book review, hmm?

THEY don’t get me, I don’t accept me, like the song, Something In The Way. I’m Will, There’s A Way.

“Aut viam inveniam aut faciam tibi.

I will either find a way or make one.”
― Kendall Ryan, Unravel Me

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 103 ~Grief Tastes Like The Ocean~

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I’ve been trying to drink two bottles of water a day, which still ain’t much but it beats turning all Kel Mitchell with orange soda. I actually like root beer and root beer floats, yum. “Grief Tastes Like The Ocean,” but I’m not sad, yet…

Monday, October 12, 2020

Gospel 103 ~Grief Tastes Like The Ocean~

Hundred And Fifty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how can I be sad? Um, I’m also a black man living in the USA. It’s not like I blame mom’s cooking or anything. Yep, she was the first one to tell me not to use so much salt. Was I the only one dipping his digits in the seasoning hm? To tell you the truth Madam Justice, I’m not sad today but angry. Yet again, I wasted the day away, when we could have already had this talk. You know why I’m always so exhausted? It’s so I have the chance to cry when I yawn. Barring blood, other secretions.

Blood is salty, but I’m in no rush to spill it. I’m a writer, not a vampire, but either way, I’m a monster. Not to mock such greatness as Johnston Green… Come on, man! He was the mayor of Jericho. How about The Instructor in The Animatrix? The Operative? Entertainment, my dear Madam Justice? Again we have Jericho, a nod to The Second Renaissance and Serenity (2005). Here is my reasoning, they all spilled blood and showed remorse in having to do so. There was no time for tears but the taste of blood, always.

Interestingly enough, that’s how I see myself as an author. Haven’t I been complaining that I have no time? Come November, and with that NaNoWriMo, all my time will be spent on words. In those, I will grieve Madam Justice.

Why do you think all of my stories end up on a “specific” subject? You know what else take like salt… sweat. Of course, you know the word I want to say, but I’m “trying” to be good. Hell, how do you think I got out of bed, only I haven’t broken, thank goodness. Anyway, I don’t even like killing characters in my books. Take “The Eve of a Cherry” as an example. The first book was to know what he was losing, the second “For A Fine Cherry Spread” was acknowledgment. The third will be acceptance of the loss.

I cry for characters in books, and yes, there’s also anger. Before my inopportune nap, I read Eric Vall, and that was… something. As the song goes, “Tell me something good.” Because if I started crying about my real life, I might never ever stop. The taste is too much!!!

Grief Tastes Like The Ocean.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 096 ~Doubt Drips And Floods Minds~

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People crying for money, laughing at me, and I’m sure some Trump supporters are out of relief. Sometimes I feel like tearing up, but there is something else coming out of my eyes, and that’s fear of uncertainty. Doubt Drips And Floods Minds

Monday, October 6, 2020

Gospel 096 ~Doubt Drips And Floods Minds~

Hundred And Fifty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford to get medical care like Trump. I’ll never have to hear that humming in the house ever again (yes, it has returned). How about we finish our conversation before wrestling comes on. I’m about to start sounding like Georgina from the movie Get Out. I don’t have the plague, Madam Justice. My nose is acting kind of funny, that’s all. Damn, that humming ended, I don’t know when and has started back today. We’ll still be talking when it’s time for WWE.

Now, Madam Justice, you know how I talk about FEAR, but doubt is a relative. Hell, let’s talk about the Day Job’s humiliation. I tried hanging up those doggy sweaters, got scared, and left them. So yeah, the new guy put them up no problem, and I looked SIGH, STUPID. When I came back to the house, I was all in reading the latest novel, and knowing me, all I wanted to do was fall asleep. Not because it’s terrible, but that’s what I do? Am I tired? I have another word for it, Madam Justice. If anything, I’m damn lazy, slothful, good for nothing. What about my OCD over everything? Oh, I do mean everything. I had a plan this afternoon that got spoiled because some lady was outside Walmart, begging for money. Afterward, I’m sitting there doubting I have cash for ranch wings.

That’s why I’m sitting on the sofa, lying in bed, hell, staring at my phone in a parked car. It’s like floating, you know. Madam Justice, I can’t swim, and I literally can’t float in a pool. Only when I’m right here, in bed, or a zombie, I’m keeping my head above water just so. Every day I’m fighting like crazy and then wonder why I’m going mad with a straight face. I read about this torture, where a drop of water to the temple continuously will get that result. Yet I continue to sit or lie, and I keep breathing, but how much longer? I don’t mean to sound so dark. Notice what I’m not talking about… I have such a good joke, but no. I doubt my resolve, along with everything else in my life. Has the humming stopped, or have I stopped worrying about it right now?

Sweat, blood, tears, sloppy writing. Doubt Drips And Floods Minds.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 236 ~Will You Say Hi~

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I don’t get high anymore, which is the last of my vices as far as putting things into my body, well other than loads of sugar, I do need something to keep up, ladders, ladies, and loads of words because I rather not speak. “Will You Say Hi”

Saturday, February 22, 2020

Log 236 ~Will You Say Hi~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you have to be crazy to pull that off. Now don’t get me wrong, Lady Lu, I’m less crazy than most. Not that I’m trying to distinguish between madness like Silver Linings Playbook. One of these days, I’m going to give a brief lesson on morality to show why I’m not a Trump Supporter. Let me be honest, though; standing with Trump is more STUPIDITY than insanity. I hate saying that because I know a few Trumpers. Those same people would call me everything under the sun, so I understand.

So let’s start across the pond. Part of the reason I’m a bit late talking to you is that I’ve been writing. Oh, is that what I call it Lady Lu? It’s not every day you can tell someone every “dirty” thought in your head. Ahh, the wonders of Erotica. While I’m busy writing it, I haven’t been reading. By now (Thursday), I should have finished Siren by Hazel Grace. Right now, much like Davina’s lovers, I can’t breathe. It’s always the same with any good story; I’ll do anything not to finish. It’s real Lady Lu, even a moment ago. Indiana Gone has me looking forward to something that still hasn’t arrived. A few minutes ago, I saw the FedEx guy deliver a package to another house. Now I know it’s not mine, but I want to go over like I’m a Porch Pirate.

Better I do something crazier like, climbing the roof, for example, hold up a minute? Please excuse me; I’ve started watching a lot of “Girlfriend Reviews” on YouTube lately but back to Amazon. If I’m not buying books, waiting on packages, why not look for a ladder. Am I that eager to die, like when I sent that girl a bustier with my name on it, what the hell? I’ve told you before I don’t seem to be learning from history, which takes me right back to writing that story for Cherry. Am I going to share that with everyone? For all I know, her father is hopping on a plane to come after me at some point. I have a hell of a time dealing with people at the Day Job. Still, you know what’s driving me up the walls. The humming won’t stop.

Only I sooner not greet anyone; Will You Say Hi?

I Will Have No Fear