Tale 213 ~To B Okay, Virgil~

The last time I felt okay… It depends on how you define the word okay. For most of these 39 years, it’s always been a response to an order. But then Braxton wished he’d be okay, so I would be too. I hope he is because I’m not. To B Okay, Virgil.

Tuesday, January 30, 2024

Tale 213 ~To B Okay, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… I want us to be okay, to be good. We gonna be “Alright.” Like Virgil?

Because without Braxton… I hear these words echo in my head… “Death is your gift.” It’s what I woke up to as I dragged my corpse out of bed. Then, I shut off the alarm and went back into the darkness. The longer I stay asleep, the longer I don’t bother the world. And since you are my world… It’s an effing excuse, for sure. But it’s also a favor.

Except when it comes to my Braxton. Yesterday or any day ending in Y. I was thinking about how best to honor him. Well, other than keeping my promise and failing to achieve it again.

I will “BE VALIANT” Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am. I want to be the person my dog thinks I am. I’M NOT!

So what comes next? If I had been BETTER before Gospel 213 ~Will “B” Seeing You~. It wouldn’t be necessary. I would be thinking about what to get him for his 19th birthday. Instead, all I could do was keep him with me three years ago. And then, well… love

TRADITION! As in me complaining about putting a man in the dirt. My granddad, to be precise. Saga 213 ~Hard Enough, Hearts Have Cages~. And I said I’d rather be working. It was working my Day Job and the rage I felt there that would kill my son B III.

My indifference with him to hide my fury. My indifference when it comes to you, hiding my grief. Good Luck.

No, I can’t hide my sadness. Not this week. Hell! I’ve cried three times, and it isn’t even 10:00 AM. And tomorrow, I’m going to be anything but okay. And going on three years now…

So, as much as I want to fix things and ask you to stay, it’s as confusing as my first love with my son. Sigh.

I asked him to stay. But I wanted him to go if it were better for him. And if it hadn’t made the decision… Is it any wonder I want the ones I love in collars, leashes, and chains? Pretty wifey and dogs? Not funny. I’m going to cry again.

But even with buying three black dog toys and movies? I’m pretty effing’ far from okay. To B Okay, Virgil

1094 Days Without B III, Day 535 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 210 ~B Free Before Virgil~

The last freedoms I gave my son… Freedom from food deprivation as he starved himself. Freedom from his fool of a father. And the freedom from fighting one more day even as he looked at me begging to stay. No, his daddy’s a slave. B Free Before Virgil

Saturday, January 27, 2024

Tale 210 ~B Free Before Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… I said that three years ago. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Yet things have changed. Not war! “War, War Never Changes.” I had to quote, “Fallout?” Anyway, what would I know about war? “It’s no surprise to me; I am my own worst enemy,” as the song goes. But about the things that have changed from the time of B III.

Three years ago… 2021, Gospel 210 ~Will To Break Free~

The crime I feared I had committed was nothing compared to what I was doing at that moment. Braxton was dying and besides fear… There was anger, rage. My INDIFFERENCE!

Last year… um, 2023, Saga 210 ~Mediums B, V, Granddaddy~

Hell! I wasn’t any better as I had forgotten about Braxton in his hour of need. My exhaustion and, again, INDIFFERENCE made me forget Virgil.

To be free of my boys. To be free of myself. If I was going to “Do It!” You know what I mean, Lady Lunalesca. Let me sing, “Feeling super, super, super suicidal.” Though, to be honest. This morning, I didn’t even need the alarm. I downed an energy shot first thing as well. So there goes the alarm-canceling nap I indulge in. Ok. To have such freedom, ha-ha. Speaking of freedom, “mine” lasted from Monday, February 1, 2021, to Saturday, August 13, 2022. What a way to put Braxton’s passing and Virgil’s arrival. 1091 days and 532 days, respectively.

Freedom is something I hear about nonstop these days. And those who say it have no idea of its true meaning. Like I do, Lunalesca?

Was I free on Thursday, January 27, 2022 Lunalesca? Chronicle 210 ~Getting A Bye B~. I’ve avoided talking about that year for the most part because it was the first year without Braxton, or nearly. Freedom not to care. People are slaves to everything Lunalesca. Somehow, it’s liberating, an exercise in freedom, to choose who, what, or why we serve. Like I haven’t given you enough pop culture today… “A man chooses, a slave obeys.” Lunalesca, “In serving each other, we become free.” And that was my life with Braxton. As much as I felt Fear, Fury… um another F was nothing because of fatherhood. Lunalesca, Braxton came first. Without him, freedom’s a word. Fear, obsession, pain, sadness, I’m a slave. B Free Before Virgil.

1091 Days Without B III, Day 532 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 209 ~Virgil, B Seeing You~

The first time I saw 2V, I imagined seeing some of B III in him. The brown around his eyes, three black spots (B III), him being a “ghost” or “reincarnation.” But the doctor said I’m not blind yet. And I’m reading about who I was. Virgil B Seeing You

Friday, January 26, 2024

Tale 209 ~Virgil, B Seeing You~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… No, I haven’t finished reading Red Rising yet. I need to start on Imogen Linn’s Epiphany.

But this week and next are all about my son’s passing. A fictional tale? By calling it B’s passing, sure. My Braxton’s murder, execution. The word I’m looking for… Euthanasia.

And speaking of “medical procedures,” I went to the eye doctor yesterday. Uh, talk about a change of pace. Or me trying to be positive. As the doctor said, the change in my eyesight was minuscule. There was no need for new glasses. I’m only getting older at 39. And there goes my positivity. But this week was not meant for “joy-joy” feelings. And next week? I get to see the world continue to go to Hell. And without my son B III protecting me.

And then there is Gospel 209 ~Will’s Yearly Eye Exam~.

Tuesday, January 26, 2021, I still had no idea of Braxton’s fate. But it’s creepy, coincidental, or at least enough to convince me that B III is Somewhere Out There. “Somewhere Only We Know.” Because, once again, Sophia, I doubt I will ever see Heaven. And I can’t imagine Braxton in Hell. B III liked being very warm, for sure. A spot by the fire…

It’s not my turn! Saga 209 ~Death, B Not Virgil~

Thursday, January 26, 2023, I told Braxton about his great-grandfather, who had passed. I’m surprised; I didn’t ask him to stay far away. I could tell you a story of a puppy that died bloody in my arms. My granddaddy’s dog attacked him. That’s some more sadness for another day.

Maybe? If I ever get around to finally publishing the two books I wrote about Braxton. And before that, there’s Gulp. And what about today? I’m talking to you and all the other girls as I prepare to spend next week crying. Don’t let me forget about Satan’s Sorority Girls 4, Sophia. There is plenty of writing to do. I will never forget the worst day of my existence like this. All I did was prepare more words. Braxton’s Emergency, Euthanasia, Eulogy… B’s E-Day is the day he died. My E-Day is my birth, Emergence, Existence, Extinction… Only I don’t see that last part coming. Again, the eye doctor said my sight was fine. I can see everything: everything but my son Braxton, alive. There’s Virgil. Virgil, B Seeing You.

1090 Days Without B III, Day 531 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 208 ~Will B Talking, Virgil~

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~

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 206 ~Virgil’s Gifts, B Present~

I might have to lay off that hot sauce I decided to try. Or maybe Jack’s sold me a drugged-up cookie with their effed-up chicken tenders. I suppose it’s that time of the month, though. Eight days till Braxton passed. “Virgil’s Gifts, B Present.”

Tuesday, January 23, 2024

Tale 206 ~Virgil’s Gifts, B Present~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But now is not the time for (cue SNL joke.) Or “A Wrinkle In Time.”

My mind can be a silly, scary, or sexy place. But last night, there was nothing but a series of nightmares. I can’t even remember anything but the premise. I need your help, please, Daddy.” Braxton didn’t make an appearance. And I felt so weak, calling out for my father. I’m glad we have billions, so I no longer have to call him. What kind of man would I be at 39, calling for him because I can’t provide or handle my business? My love.

Sigh. “A Wrinkle In Time…”

Where did that come from, right? I’ve never read the book or watched the film. But with everything else in my existence, I believe it’s Braxton sending me a sign. Beyond the grave… Comfortingly… Creepy

Anyway, seeing as how we are heading into his last week three years ago… Gospel 206 ~Willing The Days Away~. Never a more fitting title for the story of my life. But aren’t we talking about “A Wrinkle In Time?” With all the holidays and presents I’ve missed back in 2023. And now? Oh, now I want gifts! Well, I’m not getting Braxton back, love. What about last year? Saga 206 ~I Don’t Know Isn’t Stupidity~. I gave some words to Cherry. It was an effort to see her Yabbos. I can’t even think of her big pillows or yours. Ha! But again, I’m getting off the subject; the movie B was sent to me after yesterday’s nightmares. There were 3 gifts in that movie, right? Comedy comes in threes.

It’s the magic number since Braxton is still alive… somewhere. He’ll always be my B III, but staying 15? This year, he would be 19. But okay, the gifts for what will be B’s memorial.

  1. The gift of my faults. I continue to blame myself for B’s death. Uh, yeah, I killed B, sigh. But what about Virgil? Have I learned anything that will save him? I don’t know.
  2. The gift of my command or Braxton’s. Either I feel stupid or crazy. Both? I was talking to Braxton’s Aunt the other day, and she got into some good “stuff.” So, listening to B. What does he want me to do? I don’t know
  3. The gift to see… maybe. Virgil’s Gifts, B Present.

1087 Days Without B III, Day 528 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 203 ~That’ll B Morning, Virgil~

A message from Braxton… When I got up today, the first song was Here Comes The Sun (Nina Simone). V and I haven’t been fans of going outside. He could use a jacket. And I could use my cuddly firstborn. Here comes the son. “That’ll B Morning, Virgil.”

Saturday, January 20, 2024

Tale 203 ~That’ll B Morning, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… Which means I should have some company logo. Whatever happened to the SCC? Second Circle Creations.

Most mornings begin with Triple B. Of course, I mean my son. But there are also books and boobs in trying to keep a great attitude. I finished Eric Vall’s “Satan’s Sorority Girls 4,” Lunalesca.

Though I am surprised, Grayson didn’t get another girl. I thought Fiona or Chrissy for sure. But that’s more a discussion for Lady Sophia. Books and boobs… Why not both? Plus, it’s Saturday. This means I can talk about whatever I want. So how about some R and R. Oh and R as comedy comes in threes? Regret, rest, and reason. I knew I would regret staying up late last night, which explains why I’m late speaking this fine Saturday morning. Hell! I missed Smackdown yesterday as the days blend together. Braxton’s Last Month, Lunalesca.

As far as rest and reason. I’ve recorded two naps with Balance already. And do I feel any more rested, Lunalesca? I’ll add to the regret list my lack of money and needing energy shots. Now, when we look at reason… This week, I’ve been looking back at the “man” I was in 2021. Gospel 203 ~We Will Go Home~. On this day three years ago, I was still terrified. Only I had Braxton. Take all of my fears, Lady Lunalesca. I didn’t want to leave my boy for anything. Little did I know, right? And last year, Saga 203 ~Virgil Has Words B~ huh.

Virgil and I still aren’t talking. Did I even tell him Good Morning? Though he’s been staring out the window.

There is nothing out there. Well, my boy. I don’t want to think the end of him is sitting in a box on the nightstand, Lunalesca. But while I looked over the books and saw how little I have to spend… Again, I need a burger, fries, barbecue. And a few dog movies. There’s also the movie Spontaneous. So I know what I’m doing on the 31st. But what about all the mornings before then if I keep going on like this? Yesterday, I checked the gun drawer. And I said it was only because of all these strangers in the house. I hate waking up early for people. But there was Braxton and now Virgil. Waking up sucks. Existence… Sigh. That’ll B Morning, Virgil

1084 Days Without B III, Day 525 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 202 ~ Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes~

The things I need to read… A grocery list? How do you convince Olds to keep paying for a thirty-nine-year-old son? What to do when your fur baby has been dead for three years? No titles like those or reviews. But I wish. “Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes”

Friday, January 19, 2024

Tale 202 ~ Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Sister Christian? Uh, that’s in Satan’s Sorority Girls 4. Demon In Me? W.I.T.C.H. Clint Eastwood? Gaming…

Add a bunch of pretty, pretty girls, and you have this morning. “My” story. Lady Sophia, I could finish reading Satan’s Sorority Girls 4 if you give me a few minutes. But today isn’t about that. And as the month drags on, it’s harder for me to stay positive. Hmm.

I shouldn’t say, “Things That Make You Go Hmmmm…” We both know why Sophia. B III. It’s why today I wish I was reading something on grieving. Instead, it’s sexy witches and then Red Rising. Do you think I can finish that in a week? The smart money’s on me reading another in the Princess Tamer series by Neil Bimbeau. Yaboos make everything better, right? Or so I wish. Not losing my best friend, brother-in-arms, my son Braxton Barks Bradford.

Speaking of money and books, I could be reading. I should read about balancing budgets.

As long as I have enough for a burger and fries. And there should be ribs for dinner, Sophia. You know me… AHEM… TRADITION. I wish I didn’t have to read about this one, though. Around this time in 2021, I was scared, Sophia. Gospel 202 ~Sell You On Will~. And last year, 2023, I was sick like a dog, Saga 202 ~Virgil, Don’t B Mad~. I swore I would quit going to Jack’s. Do you remember the night I went to see The Book of Clarence? Again, I need to check the books… as in cash. I wish I were reading about my movie nights and Braxton getting pissy.

Unless they involve sitting on the couch with his Aunt reading subtitles. Our bad hearing.

Oh yeah! Before I forget, Sophia, I’m not congested anymore. My ear, though… I swear. And yes, I am sniffling, but I’ve been crying plenty this week. One more reason I’ve been reading Eric Vall and Neil Bimbeau books. I don’t need to get the tablet all wet, you know. There was that time, though, when I was all about Cherry and filmed myself… never mind. The thing is, Sophia. I couldn’t think about writing a review today except on existence. Braxton might still exist if I read about controlling my anger or handling indifference. Instead, I’m reading about missing Braxton. I wish he were here. Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes

1083 Days Without B III, Day 524 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 201 ~B’s Two Weeks, Virgil~

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~

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