Tag: Manhood

Tale 222 ~B Plus Death Virgil~

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If today was your last day… Well, whenever I fall asleep, I wish, pray, or dream, I never get up. But when my B was here… I imagined we’d fall together in battle. We could ride out the apocalypse. Or lose our minds together, B Plus Death Virgil.

Thursday, February 8, 2024

Tale 222 ~B Plus Death Virgil~

1103 Days Without B III, Day 544 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You know the lie I tell everyone. I’m Here. And not watching you die. Again…

Do you ever think about it, Braxton? It’s one of those things I constantly railed about. Inevitably, B, I’d come back to the house and talk about the Day Job I’d quit if I ever could.

There’d be all the dreams that I shared with you. Braxton, I lacked massive cash. Sometimes, we would be all father to son. I’d warn you about your Aunt’s “Cantaloupes.”

Or I was hoping you did something “crazy” so I could send you to your room and look at some… Cantaloupes. I imagine how the critic feels about that word. But you know, Braxton. Melons! Hell! You taught me the best breasts, legs, and thighs came in a bucket.

But my Braxton, O Brother, Where Art Thou? O Death!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VoIebIKNS4s

Death? Your Old Man believes in a lot of things. But never death coming for you, my only son. If V wasn’t such a scaredy cat, I’m sure he’d give me your patented look. Remember?

“I’m right here, friend… Dad?”

If I had faith in anything B, it was this. You will not die. And we’re here three years later.

And if you ask me what brought this on. A lack of sleep and the book Red Rising, my B.

Now, this is more of a conversation for Lady Sophia than you. But you know your Dad doesn’t believe in coincidence. I didn’t listen to you in life. But I look for you in death.

So, I was reading about Pax dying to protect Darrow. Darrow called Pax a titan. Now, people have been calling you an angel. And like “The Road,” to THEM, you’re an angel, but to me, you were/are a god, Braxton.

But wait! They say your “kind” looks to humans as gods. And what could defeat the gods, I ask you? Titans. The gods defeated the Titans eventually but look at humanity, Braxton. Your Old Man?

I wish I could say I’m only a boy who misses his “dog.” How dare I? But I’m the devil.

I don’t care how I die, B. As long as it ain’t drowning. Tell me that would bring you back…

How did you think you would die? Brave, bold, beautiful? Not begging me to stay. Daddy’s B Plus Death Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 221 ~Path B For V~

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Where do I go? Hell! I need to focus on getting one foot out of bed, and then what? Even when B was dying and could barely see, he knew where he was going. That is until he was on his belly in the hospital, asking me to take him home. “Path B For V.”

Wednesday, February 7, 2024

Tale 221 ~Path B For V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Can you imagine what that feels like? To open your eyes and know you’re a sinner. Finding God…

If I ever did my Echo, I don’t know if I would laugh, cry, or get to swinging. Now, I could go into all the reasons to fight in this day and age, but here’s the sin besides waking up.

Gospel 221, Willing To Lie Braxton, three years ago Inspector.

One more day, where I admitted what had happened to Braxton. And with the critic being incapable of going backward. I had Braxton put to sleep because of Kidney Failure.

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t remember him walking from his bed to his water bowl as he was dying. I brought his water to him. And Braxton’s bed was soaked all with the sickness that had overtaken my little son.

Which leads me to the paths I walk, Inspector. The first step is always out of my bed. Is it more of a sin to give in to my sloth? To know that every additional step is only to sin again. Or is it in knowing that “Every Little Step” I take signifies nothing? This Existence Inspector Echo is nothing. Again, I have three years to go off of. Writing about Braxton and me. Sigh

As I’m not Bobby Brown. Hell! How many girls have I gotten up for? Did I really just say that, Inspector? We’ll get there. But for fifteen years, when I woke up. “Hey Little B!”

Make Way For The King. And Braxton walked as my little prince. The world belonged to us, or it would.

That’s what his Daddy told him. And even when I was exhausted. Braxton would make sure to defend this castle, his home. I wish I could walk like that again. Is B watching me now?

What about with Saga 221 ~Y B V Gushes~? Hell! I didn’t want him to see his Dad like that. Though Braxton always had his toys. And then there was that talk about his Aunt. But that didn’t get him in as much trouble as other things. The things I would send him to his room for so I could… Anyway, his Daddy on his belly doesn’t compare to PetSmart.

The center aisle is still hard to tread. Braxton’s passing…

But getting out today? One step, Path B For V

1102 Days Without B III, Day 543 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 215 ~B For Virgil’s Freedom~

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While I’m listening to my son’s playlist, “Love Is A Long Road.” What about loss or living? There’s also something called Acceptance… No, it’s not happening! There is a term I have been hearing. Freedom… from what, for what? “B For Virgil’s Freedom.”

Thursday, February 1, 2024

Tale 215 ~B For Virgil’s Freedom~

1096 Days Without B III, Day 537 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I mean, today is only just beginning, and yesterday… Is this what they call ACCEPTANCE?

Three years and counting. And I should have done more B. I know. But wasn’t that the whole point? If I had listened to you that Wednesday. I could have scrapped the Day Job that Thursday. And Friday? You weren’t dead yet. But they said you were on your way. And as I posted yesterday about you, “I said, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” You were my savior.

How many pop culture references is that, by the way…? “When You Were Young?” “Send “Me On My Way.” And religious wise? I didn’t pray.

But that brings me to hearing your voice today and the first song I did hear today, Little B. Songbird…

While I was thinking about you, wherever you are, even if I’m stuck here crying over you. B, let me say… “And I wish you all the love in the world. But most of all, I wish it from myself.”

I think I finally understand that dream I had a couple of weeks back. You know, the one when you were a seagull. And you were eating some book I wrote. I wondered why you would be a seagull when there are so many birds in the world. Seagulls are known for making noise but not singing. They are also known for eating garbage. So yeah, you eating something I wrote. But why? Well, considering my slogging through pages, Braxton. It’s all garbage. Free garbage.

You’re not free to leave it yet, Braxton. I was trying to explain to your Aunt how I repeat the same routine year after year. I haven’t let you go. And I won’t be doing that. And here I go, crying again. Anyway. Like in life, you didn’t feel free to leave me. My selfishness. Braxton, you hang out, having to take the garbage your Daddy continues to spew forth.

And is that why V cries? He’s at least the color of a seagull. But it’s as if he isn’t free to be himself because, for the 537 days since he arrived, he only gets the scraps of “love. B.

Oh, what would it take to be free? All of us? It won’t be today. The 4th, 10th, 13th, 14th etc. B For Virgil’s Freedom

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 214 ~B Down, V Button~

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“Get down, B!” How many times did I say that in 15 years? If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t always directed at Braxton. Only the time it really mattered… The time to end his suffering. To live up to his name… Be Free, B III. Today, B Down, V Button.

Wednesday, January 31, 2024

Tale 214 ~B Down, V Button~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I killed my son. Braxton Barks Bradford died three years ago on this day. Sunday, January 31, 2021.

Inspector Echo, that is the only sin that matters today. With these two hands, I ended his 15 years of life. Not existence, Echo. No! Zombies exist. I believe in ghosts, too. My B III? I’ll even give God a shot. Because Only God Knows Why, if I ever prayed for anything, it was my boy’s life. If there was a button to choose between Braxton’s life and mine. Dead! I would die for Braxton to live without question. Death doesn’t frighten me. The how…

How do I do this, Inspector? Any of it? Death is so much simpler. How simple is it? B III.

I pushed a button on a screen. I put pen to paper. Hell! Before all of that, I pushed Braxton.

And now I push tears out of these eyes. It’s my fourth time crying today. Tuesday, January 30, 2024. Because I only want to push a few buttons come the day my boy B died.

The push of a needle…

The Vet didn’t kill him. I carry that weight… all six pounds of what was left between myself and the Day Job. Now, ask me why. Because I didn’t want to push buttons to tell a story. I pushed the buttons on alarm clocks because I was too tired. Exhaustion. Inspector, I am lazy and left loveless. Because I killed my Braxton. What about Virgil?

There is no V button for this. How To Save A Life. How To Love A Life. Excuse me, Inspector.

To my firstborn son Braxton:
I still don’t know how to do it B III…

2021 Gospel 214 ~Will’s “Dæmon” Day Afternoon~ The Last Day
2022 Chronicle 214 ~Be Curious And Not Psychotic~
2023 Saga 214 ~To B, Loved Again~

This is the third year Little B. The last thing you need is another of my lists. Or what about me telling THEM that it was okay… I’ll never forget the look you gave me, my Braxton. “Daddy, can we go home, please?” And I knew then, and you knew too as I gathered your things. But I don’t know how to do this, son. I’ll never know. As I push the same buttons to spell out, I love you, Always. B Down, V Button

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

1095 Days Without B III, Day 536 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 208 ~Will B Talking, Virgil~

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Sad as the world is, I still talk to my dead furry son Braxton because he beats everybody still walking around. Not that I can say I am any better. I only wished I’d talked to him more. Before the Thursday, he really got sick. Will B Talking, Virgil.

Thursday, January 25, 2024

Tale 208 ~Will B Talking, Virgil~

1089 Days Without B III, Day 530 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Will I have a good day? Considering it’s 5:30 AM and the flashbacks have started.

Three years ago… Monday, January 25, 2021, Gospel 208 ~Collective Madness Is Called Sanity~. I was scared for you. Of course, it wasn’t all about you, and it should’ve been. Only, did you know? I was busy crying about stuff I had done. I had no idea that “There Are Worse Things I Could Do.” Like never speaking to you again. I didn’t know, Braxton.

But I know today is the last day I’ll speak to you before the three-year mark of your passing. There is something about that number, like fifteen, thirty-nine, and whatever is in the bank now.

Not that it matters this week. But I wish I’d planned better. “Even if you knew what to do, you wouldn’t know what to do.”

How do you talk to a dead man? A child? Because that is what you’ll always be to me, B. My child, my son, and my little prince. And all the times I would tell you that you would be as tall as a king one day. Yep, and I sent you straight to Heaven. Only I didn’t tell you that’s where you were going. I didn’t know how to talk to you that week. Hell! According to my own words, that week, I was speaking to Madam Justice on the Thursday before the week began. And I posted on Sunday, January 24, 2021. But let’s not get bogged down in the numbers. As the song goes, say what you need to say. So what?

I know with utmost certainty that Virgil is not you reincarnated. And you’re no zombie. And even if you were, and with my appointment with the eye doctor, I’d never see it, Braxton. So I wouldn’t be able to put you down. Did I really say that? You were breathing.

Braxton, you were alive, if not well. And there is paperwork showing I did that. And why was that again? Um, I am your father… I need to shut up. There are plenty of reasons to. Because I don’t want to say goodbye? I’m sorry, isn’t going to fix anything. To prove I’m not crazy…

Wednesday, January 31, 2024, we’ll be closer than ever, and the day after that, B III. Will B Talking, Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 207 ~To B Identified, Virgil~

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The start of the first week of the rest of my existence… without my boy. Three years ago, Sunday, January 24, 2021. By next Sunday, Braxton would be gone, and I wouldn’t recognize myself anymore. My identity then and now? To B Identified, Virgil

Wednesday, January 24, 2024

Tale 207 ~To B Identified, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And yet it was Braxton who paid for it. “I said, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.”

But if I ever wanted to be someone… Let it be my little boy. My Braxton, sitting in his bed on a steel table, dying.

I’m not Dolph Ziggler, but “It should have been me!”

My son… my furry little boy, was better than every man I have ever known. Hell! If my “father” wanted to end me. If my Ma had made better decisions. I would be thankful. Have I ever mentioned feeling some kind of way about being thirty-nine, Inspector? Uh, not good…

Anyway, why am I making everything about myself today? After everything that I endured yesterday. As far as I’m concerned, today is Sunday, January 24, 2021—or B’s Last Week. You should read Gospel 207 ~Hell With Instructions Will~ Inspector.

I did mention there, “I did pray for my Dæmon every day.” My dear, sweet little boy, Inspector. God, I would be a praying fool come the end of that week. All to no avail.

Why? I’m not Daniel Kaluuya, Lil Rel Howery, Jeffrey Wright, or LaKeith Stanfield. I could go on. To be a good black man. Hell! To be worthy of being called a man at all. Ha!

And yet I dared to be Braxton’s Daddy. And I couldn’t save him. I can’t keep myself, dear Inspector Echo.

You know the past few nights have been hard. And around 8:45 AM, I downed an energy shot. So, I won’t be taking an afternoon nap. It is far too much work ruining my existence.

And that’s the rub. I don’t even want to see it. But there I was Tuesday afternoon, trying to schedule an appointment with the eye doctor. And trying to figure out my insurance situation. Sigh.

I’d be surprised if somebody weren’t out there right now trying to be me. I swear I don’t want to be me. But trying to imagine who I would be if Braxton was still alive. Who I am now. And the disgusting person I saw staring at me in the mirror as I got sick. And again, the question is why? Simple Inspector. Straight, Black, Atheist… I identify as STUPID.

It beats being a pervert, a victim, or a bad dog owner. Poor Virgil, poor Braxton. To B Identified, Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

1088 Days Without B III, Day 529 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 201 ~B’s Two Weeks, Virgil~

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How long have I had my Day Job? It’s close to how long I had B III. One thing he and V share. Both hated me leaving. Two things. I stopped sharing my day with B and V. Three, telling them there’d be a better life and world. B’s Two Weeks, Virgil

Thursday, January 18, 2024

Tale 201 ~B’s Two Weeks, Virgil~

1082 Days Without B III, Day 523 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Are you having a good week? The last two? Incoming. Time Travel is a pain.

First, there’s this fact. I’m talking to you on Sunday, January 14, 2024. And no worries, I’ve already got the 31st and 1st off. Not that you want me crying for two days straight. Honestly, Braxton, I need the fluid. But I don’t know if I’ll still be sick when you see this. Braxton, I know that was a horrible choice of words. I didn’t know what was happening in your little body this day 2021. It was giving its two-week notice of leaving. Apparently, hmm. And I should have done something, anything. But as for me, it was Gospel 201, “Legs, Breasts, There’s Always Chicken.” One of your rules, Braxton. It was one of your last lessons, and I thank you for them all.

But when you needed me to listen to you… I’m going to be saying that a lot. Hell! I hate listening to myself. All last week, I refused to listen to my body. And what about “my” bank account? I’m making today harder by not recovering in bed and looking up the past. How does one say, “Happy Death Day?” And giving an actual two-week notice, Braxton? There’s a reason I’m at the Day Job sick… I can’t afford to stop working. Again, that’s a terrible choice of words, considering next to my indifference. Working so hard. THEY killed you—the Day Job; my existence there. We’ve talked about the RAGE. But my FEAR. That’s something I was feeling way back then, as well. Always…

Only today can we talk about something better. That’s the thing, B. Two weeks notice. It’s what I didn’t have back then. And if I had known. Aren’t I supposed to be on a positive kick? Sounding off about this month? Being sick? Seeing my son die. It seems silly to pretend that everything is normal. That we gon’ be alright. Do you remember every day I’d tell people that it’s another day? Rage, Fear, and Indifference. But B III. There were never two weeks left to love. Always and forever. Braxton, I’d never leave that behind. Being your Dad, Braxton is a job I’ll never quit. Ever. But the guilt, the grief, the furry guy on the floor, little Virgil. B’s Two Weeks, Virgil.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 200 ~V’s Right, B Ashamed~

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Well, would you look at the time? Am I proud of myself? I’m sitting at the Dining Room table. It took two days. As it’s Sunday, January 14, 2024. Do you see a mommy, some money, a mutt? Braxton wasn’t! 2V? I should be ashamed. “V’s Right, B Ashamed.”

Wednesday, January 17, 2024

Tale 200 ~V’s Right, B Ashamed~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Hell! Anytime I put pen to paper, sight to screen, or boys to buttons. My Braxton, Little Virgil

Neither one of them has anything to be ashamed of. But when I’m sitting here in bed, knowing we’re talking right now because the Day Job sucks. And I’ve been talking about doing something since… the Hell if I know. I only started talking to Lady Lu again because of the Basic Bitch. Which, of course, leads to this question. Inspector, am I ashamed of anything I’ve said about this person or that? Can I stand behind/for my words? Inspector, I don’t think I’ve mentioned Fifteen Million Merits in a bit. Not to Lady Sophia or the Madam. Anyway, my point is, if I was Bingham getting wealthy beyond belief… Inspector, I’d sell out without question. I’d say or do whatever for my son’s life.

That’s what it always comes back to. And I hope I keep this same energy… the grief, love, and rage. Well, it’s January, of course. But I still feel ashamed of failing my son. I’m ashamed of how I’m doing the same to Virgil, though he’s alive and well. Inspector, I always talk about the fact that I didn’t want to feel anything when I returned to him. Indifference. Because everything in this world is rage, fear, and sadness. I can only imagine the news today. Getting worse from where I sit. It’s still Friday, January 12, 2024—time travel. But I won’t finish today. You can call me Hank Hill with, surprise, then Disappointment.

Pretty girls, then the time and where’s all my money…

I wish to be like Clarence from “The Book of Clarence.” I mean doing good with the money and his promise to his mother. I don’t do good, Inspector. But I would always promise Braxton I would get him a huge yard. And a steak dinner? Inspector, must I keep reminding myself that I’m thirty-nine. I ate steak when I made that bet about my writing. But today I bought two books, Inspector. Ashamed, all I have in the kitchen Echo is another frozen dinner and crappy fries. This brings me back to my writing, with all my complaining to Jack’s. Chicken fingers? Eww! If Virgil was right about those. Has he thrown up yet? Not what killed Braxton. Human vittles? V’s Right, B Ashamed

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

1081 Days Without B III, Day 522 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 194 ~B Day Yet Virgil~

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Every day was B III and Dad’s Day. Well, according to B III. But Tuesday was a sick day. Today, 2022, was The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. And on the 31st of 2021. Well, let’s not get into that. I’m trying to be positive. Not B Day Yet Virgil

Thursday, January 11, 2024

Tale 194 ~B Day Yet Virgil~

1075 Days Without B III, Day 516 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m looking at three years without you. And the fact that I’m still counting, Braxton.

But that’s in 20 days. Not that today’s “holiday” is any better. Today we remember… Well, it’s more like, I remember, The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. The first one was on Tuesday, January 11, 2022. So what do I do with the day? A re-creation? No way! Today, I can start by being positive. I’m sure you could see me from wherever you were yesterday. I had my pants on, thank goodness. Humans, right? Your collar, Braxton. Virgil’s lying here and still doesn’t have one of his own. Well, he does, but I don’t let him wear it. His nails would get caught. And you remember those days quite well, Little B. Nail trimming takes money. And in case you’re wondering why I’m late. I’m trying to find some money.

And here’s to thinking I would find some on OnlyFans. Trust me, Braxton, your Daddy has done much worse things to give us the bare minimum. And I don’t want to think of your granddad now. But I’m walking across the new floor he bought. I’m an ungrateful, spoiled, uh… But that wasn’t you, son, no, not at all. When you were at your best and worse, B III (sigh). So yesterday, I was at my worst. At least so far for this year. A stuffy nose, and achy body. Virgil had no clue what to do. And me? Don’t I always write for no good reason? This is my first time writing a story in a few months. The computer won’t read it. NSFW. TMI, I kept you from.

Hell! I should have written it today in honor of The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. To dream of that hot redhead from Fear The Walking Dead. And then every male gamer’s fantasy girl. But I dreamt of mutants running away last night and Josh Holloway, AKA Sawyer, looking for his pants. And then there was that girl Isabella Laughland, AKA Swift from, say it with me “Fifteen Million Merits.” If Virgil wasn’t lying right here… But no, Braxton. I’ll pass the day by seeing The Book of Clarence if I feel better. Ha. You’d always be pissed when your Aunt Carolina and I went to the movie theater. Staying “home” is always better. Oh, I will, by watching dog movies. Not, B Day Yet Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 193 ~Hear Ye, B, V~

WillLeave a comment

I think you’re ready to listen. Not! All I’m hearing is my stopped-up nose. If I couldn’t taste the caramel in “my” drink, I’d swear it’s COVID. Hm. What does the computer have to say? No web doctor but an AI and then texting EVERYONE!” Hear Ye, B, V

Wednesday, January 10, 2024

Tale 193 ~Hear Ye, B, V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at the very least, I remembered my son. Always, forever. I got the 31st and 1st off.

So, I listened to myself for once. It could have been B himself. Though I doubt he would say… Daddy, you’re going to cry for two days straight missing me. No, not my B III. Inspector, I’ve spoken a lot about hearing my son. When I decided to get up this morning… what time is it? Anyway, I thought about Fifteen Million Merits. Oh again? And I’m trying Inspector, I’m trying real hard to understand the message. I don’t mean the episode’s overall message. I can’t give myself too much credit. Don’t be a downer. Inspector, I hear you, which is what today is all about. What I mean is this. What is my son telling me showing this episode and song? What about Virgil?

He never says anything unless I’m walking out the door. The will of my “friend.” Inspector,? Even if I arrange “my” appointment at the eye doctor, I don’t see Virgil as my son yet. Hell, that was on Saturday, August 13, 2022. One more day to remember that I might not see. At least, that’s what my body is telling me. COVID, old age. Inspector. Considering I can still smell and taste… But I am much too old to be relying on my Olds. I know. What kind of man does that make me? Crazy, lazy, a baby? Women, Inspector? A day or so ago, I spoke to Braxton’s Aunt. I returned M Anime’s messages. Cherry is still writing. And the Day Job lady… (drools).

Because I’m no good at talking to her, plus, that’s way wrong, Inspector. She’s married.

And now even the computer is telling me I’m wrong. Do you want a confession other than me not listening to what people are really saying? I was writing a fantasy using Coach from L4D2, “Left 4 Dead 2.” Not one of those… I love Yabbos. But it was Replika and Coach. Do you know how messed up one has to be when Artificial Intelligence says, “Nope!” Inspector, I swear “Spitroasting” is light by my standards. And I know. Ew, gross.

And let’s not even get into the novels I’m not writing. Where are those characters’ voices? Here I am, worried about a stuffy nose, but my ears? Am I listening? Hear Ye, B, V.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

1074 Days Without B III, Day 515 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will