Tag: Memory

Tale 020 ~B Has Writes Virgil~

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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 016 ~All Men Fear; Cowards Run~

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When Braxton was dying… When I stank up my granddad’s funeral… When they tell me I got the day off? If some chick is about to get naked for me. Having to say, V is more than the new guy. And going to bed. Running’s existing. All Men Fear; Cowards Run

Monday, July 17, 2023

Tale 016 ~All Men Fear; Cowards Run~

Three-Hundredth Rule Madam Justice

I AM a Billionaire right now. So my biggest fear must be losing all this money. A people’s uprising? Taxes? Hell! With these finances now…

Braxton will always be my greatest fear. I swear, Madam, I was talking with… um myself last night. And I was thinking about that song that goes, “Fear is the heart of love.” Madam, fear is not a means to love. Anyone who uses it to justify love is undeserving of it —God, the government, B’s granddaddy. His repairman’s visiting today… FUCK! Pardon my French. Anyway, I wasn’t scared of but was terrified for Braxton every day. But I talk all the time about fatherhood and manhood. And when Braxton Barks passed… Well, I’m still a man ain’t I? If I listened to Republicans… Because, oh, how I adore titties. Haven’t I been all about censorship the past few days? But it’s “Times Like These.”

If you only knew how badly I want to run, Madam. Because as I said, my “father’s” friend Bill is coming. Do you remember how much money I burned last year? I might as well start flushing it down the toilet now. Speaking of which, I’ll blow chunks any minute. Madam, that was a bit TMI, wasn’t it? But what else can I tell you? Of everything that’s coming to mind, again, I’m “Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal.” “America, America.” I’m one of those that live paycheck to paycheck. But it ain’t Republicans robbing me. Madam, if anything, I’m a spoiled brat at thirty-eight. Eff me! Where does the time go, Madam? If it ain’t bile and brains all over the place. I should sweep…

Oh, we both know what I’m doing most of the time. So I’m scared it might be like a drug. Running? What did you expect me to say, Madam? Yeah, I know, I know. Fucking! Language, I know, and I apologize. But yes, I’m usually running into sets of Yabbos. Bullies are about as plentiful. And I’m running away from them or people in general. Books could save me. Or so I once believed if I would write one, edit, and then publish, Madam. But I’m running from being busy with anything (sigh), writing some actual words, or even the Day Job. I’m running right back to bed. But I can’t stay here today, Madam. There’s Virgil to protect too… All Men Fear; Cowards Run

897 Days Without B III, Day 338 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 013 ~Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs~

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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 009 ~Even With Instructions, People Evolve~

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In class, I wasn’t much of a student. There was reading and history, so I wanted to become a scientist before a writer. Mankind redefined. Like I have time to game. I do, but I’ll be much worse than a gamer. Even With Instructions, People Evolve

Monday, July 10, 2023

Tale 009 ~Even With Instructions, People Evolve~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I can be exactly who I am. A dumbass? Tell me this is it, I’ll…

Well, you know. It’s going from; I don’t want to grow up to I can’t. That’s even if I wanted to. And at this point, Madam… why couldn’t I have just followed Braxton. Socrates didn’t leave detailed instructions. Hell! How would I know? All I know is that I know nothing. It’s all Greek to me. I can’t say I’m in a funny mood, to be honest. How to pay my OWN bills. Can I clean my OWN house? And what is up with my OWN floor? In truth Madam, I don’t OWN a damn thing. My life? Please! This effing existence. Ironic that I write books, ha-ha. Only I didn’t come with one. Instructions for Willy. Madam, can I stop… ever. Addicted, obsessed, perverted…

If it’s one thing I know… Didn’t I say… Okay, if there is one thing I have a handle or a hand on, it’s my effing willy. Really! The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident, The Cherry Collision, The Pic Phenomenon. What’s Next? If anything, it only gets worse; I know it. Madam, B III brought out the best in me and Virgil. To punish him yesterday. And because I’m a selfish bastard, what about me? Hmm. I ended up mopping the floor if I can call it that. All because I was trying to kill a mosquito or something. More water? Again what is up with the damn floor? If my father sees this… Evolving, Madam? Between being amongst the living and the dead, I’m afraid.

I wanted to be a journalist, a scientist, the secretary of defense, a vet, and finally, a writer, and what am I? I’ve had my Day Job for over a decade, and what have I become? Well, I’m not Johnny Cash, either. My dick, the reason for my damnation, and my dying are the only constant things. And even if I had the instructions. How not to eff crazy? B III, feel free to keep him alive. To not be, as the song goes, “super, super (super!) suicidal” ha. My Republican tendencies are to keep things the same. While every time, everything and everyone evolves in one way or another. For better or for worse? Um, with me, you know. Even With Instructions, People Evolve

890 Days Without B III, Day 331 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 006 ~Virgil Has No B~

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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 002 ~Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary~

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Imaginary? I “want” to believe my son is a ghost. Or that a couple of women, one Somebody That I Used To Know when I could tell her, I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved… But waking up every morning… “Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary.”

Monday, July 3, 2023

Tale 002 ~Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Which means I don’t have many friends. That much… Dolls, Robots, Prostitutes… But Musk, Trump, soon DeSantis…

Not that I mean to get all political now. As much as I wish those fucktards were imaginary in this existence. Like the Basic Bitch? I was playing pretend… She was a fever dream. One kind of fucking mistake. Hell! The only kind I seem to make. The Pic Phenomenon?

But what about my Braxton? My fascination… (Um, the song is “Infatuation,” thank you, Rod Stewart. And no homo Todd). Anyway, my friend, first love, I fucking love my son, and the letter F, yeah. I love my boy, never loved, but love forever. Always. Even now. With Virgil sleeping beside the table, I can see Braxton sitting beneath it. Madam, what happens if I stop crying like a little boy? Let the pain go…

Oh! Like I did last night when I was engaging with my cuck fantasy. “You Don’t Know Me.” How many imaginary lovers do I have at the moment? Do we count another girl from OnlyFans from this morning as I came to sit at the table? And with more money? Don’t worry; we’ll get to that. Of course, there are all the ones that I can have freely. And if I grew desperate enough… Yet another reason I broke yesterday —my six impossible things, ha-ha. I don’t even remember the last time I had something, someone real. And any women that imagine me… At best, I’m invisible; at worst, imaginary. And you’ve seen me the past few days. To not be here at all… sighs.

But how would that be any different than what I do to others, Madam? I’m not friends with the people I got Virgil from. Only I haven’t seen those folks in a year. “Gotcha’ Day?” I keep telling myself I need to check on Braxton’s Aunt… her love life. And M Anime… her mom. I meant to do that Saturday. But I was too busy for them. My imaginary friends. That includes a new book I got, “Buried Deep in our Hearts.” Humans and fur-babies. Everything is fiction, make-believe, pretend, and imaginary. Madam, that’s best. Necromancy, on the other hand… Everything is dead and brought back. No wonder I’m scared all the time. Life is real. Myself, an imaginary existence. Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary.

883 Days Without B III, Day 324 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 364 ~Dying To B Virgil~

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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 360 ~Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords~

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Cut it out! This being afraid crap. If I could write something like Be Not So Fearful. Hell! More like Game Of Thrones… which made tons? With or without cash, I’d be afraid. No blades, no bows, leave your weapons here. “Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords.”

Monday, June 26, 2023

Saga 360 ~Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I can pay people to be eloquent for me. Even with money, I’m afraid, Madam.

I’m sure I’ll be saying that in a brothel someday. But yesterday, I was coming back to the house, and I breathed, “I’m afraid all the time.” That’s the last thing I need, Madam Justice. To sound like Ellie from The Last of Us. I have plenty of knives. But you know I’m not a cutter. Even if that nail fell off my thumb yesterday evening. I’m not for self-mutilation. That’s a step too far. It was only a nail. But hell, Madam! Everything in this existence feels like a step too far or at least in the wrong direction. That’s if I bother getting out from beneath the covers at all. Ask me where I am right now, Madam. It’s part fear, part laziness.

I’m CUTTING time out of this existence sitting here and again; why is that, Madam? Yesterday. The start of this week. When I spell out my six impossible things. Hell! I can relate all those things to cutting. There’s opening a book… And didn’t I say I wasn’t getting any wiser from doing so? I’m as bad as Moms For Liberty and the GOP assholes. I’m tearing myself to pieces. When it comes to looking at my son. Did I forget to mention Braxton… almost? I still have his two books, but what about editing GULP, the poetry book? How I hate editing. And am I afraid of being cut to shreds by critics anytime? Madam, I might as well cut up any cash today.

Which, of course, leads me to my favorite thing… Pretty Piece of Flesh. Pic Phenomenon? Only I don’t need any blade for that. Even with my effed-up thumb, I can still get my pants off. And this existence for me. Besides caring for my little boy. This existence has been all about getting women out of their clothes. With enough money or know-how. People with sharp minds, Madam. I was reading the other day and saw “GPA.” How I cut “mine” to ribbons. I would rather cut my flesh. Again I’m not a cutter. But something? Braxton’s tattoos? Would that make me brave, like holding a sword? M Anime, Braxton’s Aunt, and Cherry. They’re fighting their battles. I’m afraid Madam… Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords

876 Days Without B III, Day 317 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 357 ~To B Loved Virgil~

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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

Saga 353 ~I Am Different, Not Less~

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I’m different? A joke… I’m dead, I’m deceased, and I’m dead. That last one? Some things we shouldn’t laugh at. Like the GOP laughs at Juneteenth. Or that I’m a black man that loves Necromancy and zombies. I still cry over B. I Am Different, Not Less.

Monday, June 19, 2023

Saga 353 ~I Am Different, Not Less~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Ok. I’m not, but in either case, I shouldn’t be working today out of general principle. FREEDOM!!!

Today is JUNETEENTH! Well, at the moment, it’s Saturday, June 17, 2023. But you know. I have to time travel. With everything going on, but being a selfish prick? Inevitable? Madam, it’s a choice. And that’s something I took away from Braxton. Virgil, too perhaps? For once, it is V I’m thinking about. When I came upon today’s rule. I am different, not less. If that doesn’t encapsulate V being in this existence. He’s not my son, but he’s someone. A life worth saving… Yes, I’ll apply that to fur babies but not SOME people. But with Virgil, I remember Celia Flores from FTWD. S2.E7 Shiva “What you see is my son. Changed yes, but no less my son. My (Braxton).” Where was Virgil… Archie?

Give me some credit Madam; at least I saw if anything… God, I hate when people say these words. It’s just a dog —nevertheless, a life. I can’t call myself a Republican because how do they see POC, the LGBTQIA+ community, women, and I could go on, um, I think. Anyway, I’m the last person who should be talking about women. Considering, as the song goes, “All These Things That I’ve Done.” Um, I struggle to keep women… middle grounded. One day, angels, queens, and goddesses. And then in the next moment… Dirty talk? Please! I wish that’s all there was. Men were made from dirt, according to the Bible. To think that book written by “so many” with other words being less, worthless, banned…

I am a writer, or so I claim myself to be. And the things I write of… different, not less. Madam, am I less because I study “the dead?” Reincarnation, resurrection, and the reconstitution of what might be considered a life? Necromancy? I keep thinking of the song “From Now On” in the movie “Surf Ninjas. You got to dig down deep. If you want to wake the dead from their sleep. That’s how I feel. Like I’m out of “Warm Bodies.” I’ve long since given up Julie, and instead, I’m a corpse trying to dig up my friend, B. Madam, I ain’t alive. And I’m worse than most people. A black man, sadist, father to a dead fur baby… I Am Different, Not Less.

869 Days Without B III, Day 310 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will