Tag: Questions

Saga 270 ~Lovin’ B Wrong Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Love Hurts again. And it’s ringing true like Hell’s Bells. Listen to me repeating myself. But this week has been notably more painful, and it’s only Tuesday. B cried on a Wednesday, and by Sunday, he was dead. What Is Love? Lovin’ B Wrong Virgil

Tuesday, March 28, 2023

Saga 270 ~Lovin’ B Wrong Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And I’m starting to understand the Squid Game VIPs; I’m not bored. No love, I grieve.

I hope you’re ready because there will be plenty of pop culture references today. From Korean TV to Namor “The Child Without Love.” Sigh. I love the wrong way. There’s that movie “Everything, Everything.” Amandla Stenberg (Homer drool) eek. Do you remember her mother lying to her to keep her safe? Only it was the mom who had issues. B III would have acted like he was okay to keep me “happy,” whatever. The dad did the same thing to Alexa Vega in “REPO: The Genetic Opera.” He made her intentionally sick and locked her away to protect her from the world. But at the same time to never risk losing her. Then there’s Gwyneth Paltrow in Great Expectations, and she knew what her aunt did. She talks about daylight…

The way she was taught to fear love. If you knew how many places my mind could go with talk of love. Hell! Before I can even say it to you, I cry for the first one that I love. I still love Braxton. But I always return to that day. No! That week. Because all there was, was indifference. The more things change, the more they stay the same, my love. I love you. Only I’m doing it wrong. “It’s my heart, and it’s broken,” Finn said. So what can be expected of me? I can give you my definition of love. That’s easy, something like this: The want, need, ability, and desire; to put whatever before yourself. I love you, them, him… Virgil?

But I effing hate me. It’s the only thing I’ve ever done better than my father. How he threatened to kill me. No, asshole! I’ve gone ahead and gotten close. Starvation, dehydration, pills, a gun, everything. When Braxton died, talk about the nail in the coffin. And when I realized Virgil wasn’t him, well… But I have you, our children, Virgil. Today’s last comparison… Will Traynor from “Me Before You.” So that’s how I feel, love. How dare I, right? He was paralyzed. And I would be selfish to leave, but that’s my right, right? And STUPID about my Braxton. But it’s selfish asking you to stay; I love you. Only it’s wrong to love in such ways. I think so Lovin’ B Wrong Virgil.

“What do you usually do?”
“I don’t do anything Miss. Clarke, I sit and just about exist.”
Me Before You

786 Days Without B III, Day 227 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 269 ~We Cannot Learn Without Pain~

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Didn’t I say I’ll break a hand someday? It hasn’t happened. At least I’d have an excuse. Not to pet Virgil. Or pound away at keys for… reasons. And yes, the palms of my hands are filled with… Anyway, existence is pain. “We Cannot Learn Without Pain.”

Monday, March 27, 2023

Saga 269 ~We Cannot Learn Without Pain~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Or if I decided to be honest. I’m just a sucker for pain, as the song goes.

Of course, not a day goes by; I don’t think about the pain that defines this existence—my son’s death. Has a day gone by that I haven’t brought up Braxton Barks Bradford? And what did I learn from his leaving me? Well, more like his murder. THEY say at the Day Job with all the Humiliations Galore that goes on there. My face turns red. Well, tries. But it’s my hands, Madam. What color was the pen I used singing Braxton’s euthanasia? The Hell if I know. But my hands are red with his blood. Gray or black with B’s ash, hmm? I’m not opening that box again. What about B’s memorial, the money, and the memories? So many pictures I should look at.

Because everything hurts so much, and I’m still so effing STUPID. That happens when you’re busy pounding away on one head and ignoring the other. Oh, with these hands, Madam. With these hands. I can’t say I use them for anything that resembles love. LUST? I could go on and on about that. But first, I’m talking to you on Sunday, March 26, 2023. And I’m trying to keep my hands off my dick. Or from typing perverted desires. Why do you think I keep repeating The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident on January 11, 2022? And The Cherry Collision Thursday, February 16, 2023. I didn’t learn from one, so here I am, suffering. Will the pain subside after the lesson has been learned? Or vitamins…

And what did Virgil Vivi do to deserve the pain he’s in? He’s sitting in Braxton’s room because… I could give you an excuse Madam. I’ve been rereading a lot of quotes from all those dead fur baby books. About when I thought B III would be reincarnated and return. All the books I read only to remain STUPID. I should join the Republican Party. Only they don’t read, and the only burning I’m doing is the heat here. Me, being effing horny and waiting on my time in Hell. That’s right. The Day Job again. What’s there to learn? Madam, I want to join my boy. But he wasn’t smart enough to leave. Harsh! I decided that for him. We Cannot Learn Without Pain.

785 Days Without B III, Day 226 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 263 ~To B Hurt Virgil~

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Love Hurts? A song that I’ve never liked but rings true. Since I’m never happy with it. I’m always hungry in one way or another for it. And effing horny. Well, except when I’m mourning my son. For 161 days. And to hurt anyone else. “To B Hurt Virgil”

Tuesday, March 21, 2023

Saga 263 ~To B Hurt Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I will never be hurt again. Oh, sure, I’ll claim victimhood like a Republican.

“I believe I can see the future,” as the song goes. Do rich people have time machines? I still want my Braxton back but damn. The worst pain I’ve ever felt, I keep telling myself today. Today is Sunday, March 19, 2023. Time Travel! But today, Trump is supposed to be arrested. Is anyone hurt? And who? If anything, the pain has become my constant, my love. Hell! Am I becoming like M Anime? Before Braxton died, I can’t say I was ever at 100% at any time. It was more of a “But I’m not crazy. I’m just a little unwell. I know, right now, you can’t tell.” Does my singing help, or does it hurt your ears? My ass is kicked thinking about my “Lost Boy.” Always Braxton.

Remember when it was only these ears hurting me? Saying “I love you,” always, forever? Braxton couldn’t speak such a thing. But he was the only man I ever listened to. Talk about “love is louder.” What’s with all the pop culture references today? Well, I did climb out of bed to talk to you instead of watching whatever and being lazy. My eyes hurt. Better than talking about The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident on January 11, 2022. Oh No. That led to The Cherry Collision Thursday, February 16, 2023. Oops! I should be looking for medicine. But love, you don’t know how badly I want some. Uh, sexual healing. Or some tacos. The doctor said I should cut out the spicy. But yesterday… yeah

After I was done reading, of course. In a “Study,” not a Man Cave. Braxton’s Mausoleum? Dammit, with all our money, you know I would build one. Failing to save Braxton? Hurting that never goes away. But what about you and me? I can save us. I can fix this. I can save you… Not a day goes by that I don’t think I should have joined my B in death. But you, our children, there’s even Little Virgil upstairs waiting. I don’t know what for. Love? My love. A sadist? Yes, I am, my love. But I take no pleasure from the pains I know. Braxton has known for fifteen years. But always and forever love. I’m just a sucker for pain. One more song. To B Hurt Virgil

779 Days Without B III, Day 220 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 262 ~Your Punchline Means My Punches~

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I’m going to break a hand someday. Will it be on the shower tile, a Day Job locker, or will I finally go all out? Everything happens for a reason. When my ears were stopped up, and I couldn’t hear people’s jokes? Your Punchline Means My Punches.

Monday, March 20, 2023

Saga 262 ~Your Punchline Means My Punches~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Forth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. And hopefully, I don’t get as raw-dogged as all the others. Always practice safe sex, guys ha-ha.

Why am I laughing? For all the people that make fun of me, you know who’s the worst. I think Taylor Swift had it right “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” Braxton’s knowledge. That’s why he would stomp on my head every morning. Oh, look, here’s my tears for this morning. All I have to do is remember that his purpose was to protect, save, and love. And if punching me in the face with those little legs did the trick. Well, then do it. My Braxton. While I’m all in a musical mood, “It’s no surprise to me, I am my own worst enemy.” Braxton protected me from bullies. The two biggest being my old man and me.” The mirror Madam… SIGH

Nah! “I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror.” Hah! Do I not want to eff Taylor Swift anymore? Trust me, Madam. We’ll get to that. Trump was staring at the sun. He’s one sad joke. But I’m usually up before the sun. Even if it’s not at 4AM as I planned. Now if I were a better man, I would change “sun” to “son.” Braxton’s eyes served as a mirror. Only within them, I saw a much better man. Somebody I wanted to be. Not now. Every day if I don’t start the day thinking, “my son is dead,” it’s, “I’ll join him, my B III.” It wouldn’t be a punch in the gut to anyone. Then again, no more jokes.

Punchlines! And here’s another one, Madam. The phone has become the sun. Oh, the light. And I spend at least a half hour punching at the bedsheets. Wayward dick Madam. Staring at orbs, I want more than any sun. Those are called breasts, tits, yabbos, fun bags, dirty pillows, etc. To think of such a release Madam. But instead, I get so angry. Please! Not at women. It’s the fact that I have to punch into the Day Job, and for what now, hmm? It was wanting to throw punches in that Hell. Even after saying the comedian is dead. Myself. But no! I let those bastards’ punchlines go unpunched, and Braxton paid the price. Virgil’s no joke, me neither. Your Punchline Means My Punches

778 Days Without B III, Day 219 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 256 ~Virgil, B, A Word~

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I’ve always given examples of how I know Braxton loves me. One I miss the most is him sitting at the corner of the bed, watching the door. Loving anybody else. The things I do. But I prefer the Word always to love. Always here. Virgil, B, A Word

Tuesday, March 14, 2023

Saga 256 ~Virgil, B, A Word~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And for the love of money or rather why I love money, and you, B, family…

You know that song “More Than Words?” The most romantic way to ask for a blowjob. Whoa! Sorry about that. But I didn’t mention the other B-word, did I? Braxton? Sunday to Tuesday, and every other day that ends in “Y,” time travel. So we’ll always come back to him. I want to talk about “You and me – always – and forever.” What about How Long Will I Love You? And again, More Than Words? Showing you. Well, the words are still there, Baby Girl. All the I love yous and such. You know how I feel about those words. Even though I mean them with everything I am. Will they keep us together? You’re here, and that’s enough. I’m still here. Always, forever…

And so is my Braxton? You have to understand. The one that couldn’t speak a word was also the one that loved me the most. Or at least I hope he still does. Braxton’s, wherever. My Olds might have said the words, “I love you” at some point. My Ma, in particular, I believe. Only it wasn’t the words. It was the fact that they kept up my existence here. Good or bad, the reality is there weren’t only words. There was action from them. Even if I regret it now. Honestly, my love letter to the world would be to never speak, Baby Doll. Everything I said to Braxton when I should have followed him, like taking a walk. Fucking darker than I intended.

Well, today is Sunday. I don’t feel too good at the moment. I’m scared right now. If I’m being honest. And not only because it’s the series finale of The Last of Us. Children, right? Our kids need me, us for sure. And that’s not me being some asshole, Republican. Fucktards screaming about family values. There are all types of families. As long as there’s love. Even if it’s not in so many words. I want them to always know that I do love them. I love them like pancakes, as I always said about B. Really pouring the Bisquick. Yep, into the love of my life. And we made them. So I love you, them, myself, Braxton, the world. Virgil? Virgil, B, A Word

772 Days Without B III, Day 213 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 255 ~Desperation Can Make Anyone Dangerous~

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Desperate times, desperate measures? I’m desperate. If I had my way, I’d be with my boy. But I’m desperate enough to keep existing. Working a Day Job, which I hate. Watching dirty things, dealing with my Olds. “Desperation Can Make Anyone Dangerous.”

Monday, March 13, 2023

Saga 255 ~Desperation Can Make Anyone Dangerous~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I will never be desperate again. (Snorts Loudly). Have you seen most billionaires these days?

Hell! It’s like me trying to save my B III’s life again. Yes, I’m crying again. And I’m sure a tear or two is about him now… Time Travel, Madam. Those meds for his appetite… Desperate, like when Cherry was pulling off her famous red lingerie. What I would give to see her put whip cream on her nips. The way she took the treat in her mouth. Oh, fuck! I was desperate. It’s like that time I went to summer school. All I wanted was a D-average so my father wouldn’t beat my ass. He said it wasn’t even the money but the time. Fucking time. Again it’s Saturday, March 11, 2023, and what was I doing before two? Wasting time fucking… well, masturbating.

Other than prayers for B, crying for him. The way this heart shattered that day… Do you remember how I said I’d burn the world down if I blamed anybody? Other than myself? A monster, a murderer, I’m just a “man.” And is there worse? Um, The Last of Us… Madam. I mean that the show teaches that it’s not the Infected that are the monsters but mankind itself. I should know, right? Once again, what I want more than B III alive beside me… A woman, women? I want to be Dennis Hof or Hugh Hefner. Dark things. Like revenge, Madam? And I’m not trying to sound like some Incel freak. You know who I would punish. Um, me, the man in the mirror.

And yet I am desperate enough to try and save my existence. It’s why I still have the Day Job, isn’t it? I ignored Braxton because I thought he needed the money more than me. Madam. Every day I bawl up my fists and smash them into bathroom walls. Lockers? Hoping nobody in the breakroom can hear me. Such is my rage. At everything, everyone. I’ve given up trying to be a hero because hoping for something. Debated myself before. Sadness, Fear, Hatred vs. Hope. Rules four and five. I can’t die until Braxton’s book… This is why I’m desperate enough to ignore everything. A little bit for this conversation. Good Luck! Because I am always desperate enough to sin. Desperation Can Make Anyone Dangerous.

771 Days Without B III, Day 212 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 249 ~Virgil Loves That B~

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So when did I know… love? When I told him to get in the car? Standing between me and my father, fangs ready to protect me. His guard post on the corner of the bed. And how did he know? With his aunt, he knew he loved her easily. “Virgil Loves That B”

Tuesday, March 7, 2023

Saga 249 ~Virgil Loves That B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But my love, at the end of the day, “It’s my heart, and it’s broken.” Still?

No! You would never be so cruel to think it. But to love is to understand. Or at least try. Right now trying to understand why the tears are falling from my eyes. Time travel? Today’s Monday, March 6, 2023. It’s day 765 without B III. You know where I am… There’s no leaving Sunday, January 31, 2021. And yet I couldn’t tell you the day I met my firstborn. There’s no telling the day that it became Braxton and me against the world. Hmm. We could even debate his birthday. But I go with Sunday, February 13, 2005. The day Braxton died, though. I’m like Finnegan Bell from 1998’s Great Expectations, heart and all. Only from all the books I actually read. Well, love…

I’ve been trying to figure out how Braxton knows love. Again I can’t remember the happy days. Yet I remember when Triple B fell in love with his Aunt Carolina. It involved him going all Triple X, X-rated… whoa not that far. Ha-ha. She let him climb all over her. The next thing I knew, he was in love. Or he really liked her boobs. My son the dog; like father like son, ha-ha. I can’t recall when he fell for fries. Particularly McDonald’s. “Sorry, Blame It On Me.” Especially when he started getting older. And he always had that choice of going for a walk or waiting for fries. It could have been that he only wanted to be near me, always and forever.

Working the old Day Job… well, that was fucked up. Hell! I think Virgil understands how I “felt” about that place. Virgil understands? But what about love? Let’s try stairs. Anyway, Braxton didn’t love saying goodbye. Yes, more tears. To think he has that in common with Virgil. Now even with Braxton’s last day. He didn’t want to say goodbye. Those mornings imagining the former Day Job, Virgil will howl and cry for a while. Honestly, my love. Me and those boys, we don’t say goodbyes too well. Nope. Never. Only how do we say hello? I suppose I could crawl all over you. B III, and I know boobs. I could stop running away. We could sit here together, love. Virgil Loves That B

765 Days Without B III, Day 206 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 248 ~Living Reasons Are Dying Reasons~

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I’m not fit to live, and yet I survive. Virgil is not Braxton, but so that B can live always… I could publish a damn book. And pornographic passions are always evolving. And at the Day Job. Who’s pissing me off now? “Living Reasons Are Dying Reasons”

Monday, March 6, 2023

Saga 248 ~Living Reasons Are Dying Reasons~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but unlike the assholes in the GOP, I have studied “my” history, black history like MLK Jr.

Rover… Oh no, I’m not comparing any person or persons to beasts. Republican dickheads. No, I’m thinking about a Dr. King quote, “A man who does not have something for which he is willing to die is not fit to live.” You know what that was/is for me. Braxton. Can I not publish his two books already? Ensuring he’ll live forever, and then I am free to die. I sort of feel like doing that right now, time-traveling. And seeing to the… um, Virgil. For certain, though, if I could have given my life for Braxton’s… In a heartbeat, no questions asked. The things I survived because my boy needed me. Only, I couldn’t give him the life he deserved. And why, Madam? Strokin’, Rutting

Rut before when I was dead to the world. But rutting? And yes, I did look up the meaning of the word. Again that book “Mesmerizing Caroline.” Pornographic passions, language. Hell! Madam, if there is a hint of titties. I’m going to be a fanboy. Ask Cherry one day, ok. Next to my Braxton, women are the most beautiful things on the planet. Getting up? Madam, I promised Braxton I would find him a mom or a stepmom… fucking stop. Anyway, isn’t that the purpose of people? There isn’t one person on the planet. Not this moment I would give my existence for. But if B could find a way to love me well… A woman learning to value my life; maybe I can too.

Revenge ha? Or should I say, Justice Madam? I live to hurt myself. Only not in any traditional way. Thursday, February 16, 2023, The Cherry Collision. The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. Fuck! All the time, I spend wanking instead of writing. Even right now, geez. Sitting here on a Sunday afternoon, I’ve been looking up Lucy Tyler and Kiara Gold. Onlyfans will never net a profit (cough) $12.00 (cough). But with the money? Madam, I mean much more than that. I would go all The Count of Monte Cristo on the world. But who specifically… Careful right? Other than Braxton’s passing. My fault. Remember rules four and five. Hate will keep you alive. Love is worth dying for. Are those Living Reasons Are Dying Reasons?

764 Days Without B III, Day 205 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 242 ~To B Healthy Virgil~

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Black History. I’m a black man, and “This Is America.” Thinking I can make a change. A family of my own? I don’t know my nephews. Or two half-brothers. And I was the best man I could be for Braxton. But some doggie or woman… To B Healthy Virgil.

Tuesday, February 28, 2023

Saga 242 ~To B Healthy Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Which means annual checkups, insurance, and staying the fuck out of Florida. But then again, Disney.

I may not have a healthy relationship with my Olds. But tradition. I want to take our kids to Disney World, Universal… Uh, what else is there again? I don’t want to think about it. Isn’t that the thing, love? I always told myself there would be time for Braxton. Living for my son; when he was the one living for me. Because what have I done for 758 Days? Existing. And yes, this is something I should be sharing with a therapist. Doggie, Wife? I should dig my hole a bit deeper. If I dare compare you, the love of my life, with Braxton. Love, my love. If it wasn’t for my firstborn, I don’t know if I could ever say I know love.

Because I didn’t go to the doctor yesterday for me. I still wake up every day not wanting to. I close my eyes with dreams to never open them again. Something else to discuss, right? Instead, I told the Doc what was going on. And she said that no, that’s not it. My sore ass. They shot me up with some antibiotics. And I got a prescription for the drugs I took after The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. A week’s worth for The Cherry Collision. I’m upset about that. What! That I got a week’s supply. Or the fact that I cared to get well. Being a husband, a father, and having the freeloader to feed. I swear I’ll stop calling Virgil Vivi that at some point. But today, love…

It’s not killing him. Been there and done that with Braxton. As for myself. Breathing. Yesterday the Doc said I need to drink more water, and I’m trying to keep it up for the week. Until I run through my course of meds anyway. B wouldn’t want this, I know. People in Hell want ice water but isn’t the Ninth Circle all ice? Treachery, Betrayal? Braxton, again, he kept me alive so that I could find you. So that I could give the love I should have been giving him to you, our family, even saving little V. But indifference? It’s what killed Braxton, and I could understand it killing me as well, for sure. It’s what I deserve. Existing living? To B Healthy Virgil

758 Days Without B III, Day 199 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 241 ~Nice Guys Occasionally Do Win~

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Why can’t you just be nice? I heard that in a movie… But I heard This Is America. It’s also not some Hentai, Reality Kings, Bang Bros, or Pure Taboo. And the only one I wanted to be nice to…. Nice guy? Not me! But “Nice Guys Occasionally Do Win”

Monday, February 27, 2023

Saga 241 ~Nice Guys Occasionally Do Win~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-First Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. So I think that automatically disqualifies me from being a nice guy. Like being broke helps, either.

If I were a nice guy, my son would still be alive. I would have burned the world for him. The thing is, I can’t imagine being a good person. Hell, can’t keep my dick in my pants to honor him. Oh, we’ll get to that, Madam. Today has been one Hell of an experience. Speaking of which, being a daddy again? I still think of Virgil as the freeloader. Not that I call him that to his face. But he is annoying me to no end these days. Training? It’s not his fault at all. Only there’s a reason I leave him alone in Braxton’s room for hours. Madam, I need to stop using that word… END. Aren’t I being nice to myself today?

I went to see the doctor today, and can you say humiliations galore? Wait Times… Anyway. Of course, I had to go because of Thursday, February 16, 2023, The Cherry Collision. Never forget! But I did forget The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. So OW! Perhaps I should save this for Inspector Echo. Only I have no shame. Needle meet ass. More antibiotics and a week’s worth of medication. And what happens after that, I ask. I wouldn’t even be in this situation if I were a nice guy. “Everybody know I’m a motherfuckin’ monster” as the song goes. Or do they? Doctor’s office, Day Job. I’m fucking weak, spineless, a victim. How long did I let them ignore me? How I apologized, groveled, and shit.

And at the same time, the lady who thinks I’m so nice… the things I would do for a chance. Again that’s the whole point. It wouldn’t be nice. Never can be. Appearing as such… Stupid. You know how I feel about that word. I rather take another needle to my ass? Or why not suffer for what happened to B? It’s not nice using his memory like this, Madam. But let’s say I could be the nice guy. What would be my prize? Playing pretend hasn’t netted me anything. When’s the last time I did something nice. Ulterior motives… Nothing is coming to mind. And existence is not a porno. I said that sometime last week. But there are places Madam, movies, manuscripts, memories… Nice Guys Occasionally Do Win

757 Days Without B III, Day 198 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will