Tag: Questions

Tale 255 ~Spell Manhood, B, V~

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Don’t crying to your Mama. Cause you’re on your own in the real world. I swear I hear that song every day at the Day Job. And here I am, nearly 40 and ready to text mine because… You wouldn’t believe it. Where’s my pride or mind? Spell Manhood, B, V.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Tale 255 ~Spell Manhood, B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… My spelling could be called into question. My courage, too. Even this very existence, love.

But my love for you should never be in doubt despite everything. I’ll even include the loss of my son. I love you. That is the correct answer. And yet, I remain full of questions.

Since yesterday? Try, 1136 days ago. But Monday was a particularly hard one. And you know what I do with a hard one. Eww! Well, no! You like my sense of humor. And what was it that Marilyn Monroe said? If you make a woman laugh and all that. My love, I’m trying to figure out how to provide. Please! Isn’t that solved, considering billions?

Existing isn’t the problem. Living is. “We’re the ones who live.” Of course, I would be one to quote “The Walking Dead.” A dead man.

And what does that make you? My Sabriel, my Michonne, one of Jacob’s, Grayson’s, or Eddie’s girls. I swear! For my love of pop culture. I started my day reading “Backyard Dungeon 7.” Because I don’t love what’s going on outside in our backyard. Braxton?

Yeah, my firstborn would have something to “bark” about that. And what about the front…

That’s what I’ve been thinking about since yesterday. Besides Braxton, wondering where my bravery is and giving into, boo… I mean Cantaloupes. Critics and censorship can be as spoiled as our children, if not worse. But who am I to talk? Husband, Father, Owner, Man…

A Monster, Ahh! My Love…

As the song goes, “I wanna be your man.” Ha-Ha. But what Braxton sent today…

My son tried. “God” knows he tried. All the moments when I thought I had become a man. I didn’t chase those moments… necessarily. But nevertheless, they came, my love.

The first time a girl let me… I thought, yeah, I’m a man. No! It meant I officially like girls.

What about the first time I got into a fight? I’ve never been to war. But the mere act of breathing for me… Not that I mean to offend fighters, warriors, or soldiers. But my manhood? War never changes. The fight never ends. Yet I look out the window and… I want to call my Ma. Well, text because I am without courage. And manhood.

There’s you, our children, Braxton, Virgil. Spell Manhood, B, V

1136 Days Without B III, Day 577 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 254 ~Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed~

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Coffin costs? I use the bed as a final resting place, anyway. If I’m not going to bother making it… In more ways than one. And since I’m dying of humiliation at the Day Job. That place “helped” end my son. If I could “Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed.”

Monday, March 11, 2024

Tale 254 ~Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But You don’t know how much I want to follow this one. Today’s Wednesday, March 6, 2024.

By the time you read this, I could have made the change. The only reason I’m even trying today is this. I promised myself a steak dinner if I talked to you, Echo, and Braxton.

Promise B anything to do with food; you’ll have his loyalty. Always and forever, Madam.

Instead, my loyalty is to sadness and sleep. I’m ashamed to admit that today, there’s been more sadness about the Day Job. And not my son? But we’ll get to that. Because the boy I lost trumps everything. Am I talking about Braxton or me being a boy at thirty-nine? Madam, sigh, we’ll talk, ok? But that’s not to say the Day Job isn’t involved with my little boy. Sometimes, it looks as if Virgil is following suit. We lie together all day, Madam J.

At least when Virgil’s here, I can’t succumb to temptation with some P.Y.T. online. Thankfully. But wouldn’t it be even easier if I got out of bed and went to lie on the loveseat instead? There’s a reason that I did most of my reading there. It gives the words “down boy” a whole new meaning… Eww! But really, when you read what I read but have a furry son…

Two words, Madam… Birth Control!!!

But it starts with getting out of this bed. I put some pants on and make the bed. That’s it.

I could work like Joe Stevens or Bingham Madsen, but for what? Uh, women, humanity? Ah! T.V. and a steak.

That’s why I’m avoiding making the bed. Or not doing it at all. I’m not going to nap, Madam J.

I’m looking for anything to avoid thinking about the new food rule at the Day Job. Do I believe I was the only one who wrapped a jacket around my waist? Or is my writing terrible? What about wearing earbuds and such? And now it’s eating chips and candy, Madam.

I sound like a broken record talking about this. And yes, I am guilty of doing these things at the Day Job. But it’s the utter humiliation of everyone seeing the rule and then me.

Madam, I wouldn’t be humiliated if I’d followed “my” rules. If I could give Braxton and Virgil better lives. So, Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed.

1135 Days Without B III, Day 576 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 248 ~Hear B, Hear V~

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I don’t know what kind of man I am. But for this week, at least, I would be glad if I could be a voice. And what would I say? When did I last say I love you to anyone besides my dead fur buddy? And no one would understand it. Hear B, Hear V

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

Tale 248 ~Hear B, Hear V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… If there’s one thing, I want you to understand. It’s that I love you, Always.

We’ve only just begun to live, as the song goes. I should find another way to communicate other than with pop culture references. As if you haven’t been hearing it all this time, my love. Braxton didn’t care. He understood me in one way, but you are much different. Right.

Braxton knows me as his father. And to you, I’m a… uh… fine man. But you both know me as a friend. And I’m sure on many occasions, I was “Daddy.” Do you know what I am saying? Because that’s what’s been bothering me since last week. Not being understood.

And I don’t know how to say what I need to say. Ever. The why should be easy, my love.

I love you. That’s all.

So why do I continue to mourn and grieve for my Braxton? I don’t know how to say goodbye. You’re a testament to that as well. You’re here. That’s how we live, isn’t it, love?

I’m here, we’re here, they’re here. We all are right here. And I don’t know how to move on. I need the words to move people. Even if it’s good or bad at this point. I need to communicate. And when someone tells you, you’re inappropriate and irrelevant, my love.

Why do you keep speaking? I ask myself every time I look in the mirror. With enough money, what I say is OK. I use others’ looks in the businesses I run. But please listen.

I love you. Please understand!

But I miss my boy. I miss B III. And I don’t see why that is so hard to understand, love. And as far as 2V, my love? I took responsibility. Friendship, love, and happiness? Understand that I wish I could be the man that I once was. I don’t want to remember the child I was. And then there was Braxton. Now, I’m trying to figure out everything else.

But our love. And not only that, but anything and everything nobody wants to understand. Or it’s me. I can love plenty without loving myself. I’m ain’t happy. And I shouldn’t say I am happy for everyone else. But I’ll be glad if you’re happy, our children, Braxton and Virgil. Understand? Hear B, Hear V

1129 Days Without B III, Day 570 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 247 ~Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated~

WillLeave a comment

What do I want in a woman? Criteria? When B was here, it was simply as someone he didn’t hate. When we met her, I made her a sister and his aunt. “Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?” Me or women? “Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated.”

Monday, March 4, 2024

Tale 247 ~Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like giving it the good ole college try when I talk to women. How’d that turn out?

I love my Braxton more than any woman walking the Earth. And he wasn’t complicated. But I couldn’t save B. I knew him better than any human being, but at the end of the day…

And what about Virgil. It’s been 569 days, and I can’t say I know him. Not at all. But he’s not complicated. He’s like Dante’s Inferno. It’s where he got his name, of course, dear Madam. I don’t get Inferno, but at the same time, I know it’s about a trip through Hell. Am I STUPID? You know how I feel about that word… It’s complicated. I’m pretty much the same. Or, as Taylor Swift sings, “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” Complicated? A father or a female…

Wow! In this day and age, I could go to so many places with that. Where do I need to…

Inevitable that I lose the plot of today’s lesson. It’s about women. I wonder if my critic is a man, woman, or… I don’t know what. I’m beginning to sound like one of those “people.” You know, the ones blabbing online day in and day out. I’m an old man.

Becoming a husband, a father, or any sort of a man is getting away from me as “time keeps on slipping into the future.” I keep saying it. I don’t want to be forty, Madam.

There’s a better way to say that. I don’t want to be 40, thinking, “I can’t live my life this way.” What about 39, 38, 37, 36? You don’t understand how much simpler existence was.

Back then, all the time. I would say, “I’ll marry the first girl, Braxton is nice to…” Ha-Ha! The first woman that fits the bill is more of a sister to me, B’s aunt. My tastes are so “freaking” complicated.

Today, Sunday, March 3, 2024, the critic said that “my” words are inappropriate and irrelevant. Duh! Madam, that was only me talking to the man in the mirror. Other people…

Please! What about Virgil? Or should I go all “Make Archie Great Again?” First name…

I want Braxton back. That’s easy enough to think. But the type of woman wanted. Braxton was my everything. I desire the same from women. Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated

1128 Days Without B III, Day 569 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Wil

Tale 241 ~Virgil Loves To B~

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Ask me the type of man I want to be. A good one, godly, one that is gone? I wouldn’t leave my family, but it was the other way around with Braxton. And did I tell him to go? Not in so many words. But Virgil’s here, alive. Virgil Loves To B?

Tuesday, February 27, 2024

Tale 241 ~Virgil Loves To B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… I love being in love. But much like the Marquis de Sade’s views on lust.

Love is in everything, everywhere entire. Well, not if you’ve turned on the TV and looked at your phone. Then there’s your husband. I often compare myself to a zombie. However, I’m not “gone” yet. My boy still is —my B III. And I still feel that he’s out there.

Braxton’s love? He and I are still connected, like father, like son. As the song goes, “No, there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do. To make you feel my love.” While I’m on a musical kick, what about, “And I would do anything for love. But I won’t do that.” What?

Give up, my boy? I did, and I didn’t. I wish I could still blame my hand. But that doesn’t explain my laziness right now.

Three years ago, I was writing plenty. I wrote two tales, both for my little boy. But for what? Hmm. How often have I prattled on about B III, and you’ve been here to listen?

And it was only a year and some change. I was putting cash down to save Virgil Vivi. Saying it like that makes me think. What an insult! Since I couldn’t save Braxton. Or us?

I love you. You are my life. And if I ever get back to the Red Rising series, you’ll be my Eo saying, I must live for more. But I do live for you and our family. And yes, I make sure Virgil is still breathing. Because if something were to happen to me, love…

Would anyone even notice? Again, it’s like I’m a zombie. A time-traveling zombie. Now, that is an idea worth exploring. But not now since it’s Sunday, February 25, 2024. That means The Walking Dead is coming back. Well, “The Walking Dead: The Ones Who Live,”

Today, am I doing that? It’s a hard thing bringing back the dead. How did Jesus get it done? Oh, I can hear the holy rollers now saying he is God. And what about the whole God is love verse? And I’ll give you one more musical verse… “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.”

Or she… You’d love to bring me back as a friend, lover, husband, and father. Virgil wants to be a dog. Virgil Loves To B

1122 Days Without B III, Day 563 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 240 ~Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes~

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The things I’m curious about. Where did my boy end up? How much do animal communicators charge? Can I finish speaking before 5:00 PM and get a steak dinner? Is V happy? Does my sharing food help? Uh, girls. “Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes.”

Monday, February 26, 2024

Tale 240 ~Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Or Laws. But since I don’t match the criteria of those people. Cash flow, color, criminal actions…

Hell! Here’s the facts. I’m sitting in bed on Wednesday, February 21, 2024, Madam. What about the fact that I haven’t had an energy shot all day? And what about having some fun? I told Inspector Echo that the Artificial Intelligence called out such freaky-deeky…

I’m not one to push the envelope. That’s another reason I’m not living the “Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous.” Braxton and I were… Sadly, I don’t know how to answer if B was happy.

Happy to me is a foreign concept. “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” And at this particular moment, that’s a lie. If anything, I’m hungry. And I’m curious how much money I want to waste on myself and Virgil Vivi.

To be more curious there…

Yes, I’m about to be a meanie by saying this. Virgil was not my first choice at all. Lucky, doomed? Before him, there was that one puppy that kept trying to escape the cage. And there was a brown one who I saw in a pen and I got upset. They sort of hoisted him on me a bit. Ha!

With Virgil, first, it was his lack of curiosity and sticking to discipline. He went on the paper as though it was routine. He still has some training to do after 562 days—my laziness.

Then I wondered what Braxton was saying. So, “I gotta take it on the other side.” And much like B’s death, supposed reincarnation, Virgil’s life. Curiosity killed the cat. Right?

And then I figured, what would it feel like to be a Dad again? Hell, a grown-ass man. Huh! I’m still curious, seeing I adopted/rescued Virgil in 2022. And how am I now, Madam? Are you curious how Virgil could win me? What will it take with Happiness vs. Grief?

Hell! I’m always more curious about how Cherry and M Anime look in an “adult” way. “Girl All the Bad Guys Want,” or girls judging by my search history. Curiosity…

I’m curious what dinner will be tonight. Again, I waste the cash or cook. Microwave.

Madam, I quest for knowledge on the most simplistic things. But my boys, books, and big ole… I’ll shut up.

But I want to know Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes.

1121 Days Without B III, Day 562 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 234 ~B’s Price Tag, Virgil~

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Love language? I should focus on quality time. But what do I spend all my time on? With my pop culture references, you’d think I’m an expert with Netflix and Chill. And how much is Netflix? What about my boys, books, and balls? B’s Price Tag, Virgil.

Tuesday, February 20, 2024

Tale 234 ~B’s Price Tag, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But love’s not free. Sade sang, “Your Love Is King. Anastasia made it Christian’s song.

And as much as I agree that love is no prize. No. Love is a gift. But very expensive, sigh.

You can thank Mr. Dink for that one. Have I gone to buy a bunch of new gadgets yet, my love? As a billionaire, I know my tax refund must be enormous. But I’ll stick with Doug and not politics. And who pays the cable, satellite, and internet bills? I’m a man, aren’t I, love?

A very rich and wealthy man. But in my past… Hell! The businesses I’m running. Healing, addiction, obsession in all things sexual. The things we do for love. The price.

I don’t know how much my Old Man paid for Braxton to this day. Now Virgil Vivi Bradford was $150.00.

But my firstborn and then our firstborn. I swear when I first thought about money… Everything came back to power. Money is power. But in the face of love. Nothing.

There are billions of dollars, baby girl. But if I didn’t have you. Our family, children. Inevitably, the money would not be enough. But what more do I have to spend, save, and sell? Today, I’m thinking about time. How much time do I spend not loving? Well, myself, anyway.

Hell! I’m a billionaire. No! We are billionaires. “But you’re a terrific person. You’re my favorite person.” And I ain’t Bill… You know, from Kill Bill Vol. 2. But right now, I feel like The Cable Guy, my dearest love.

I’m not making sense, but I’m trying, love. I’m trying.

I want to be real. Only it seems that I pay for one illusion after another. I don’t pay for fun, fucks, or freedom. Of course, “Freedom Ain’t Free.” These days, I pay to feel.

How much did I spend? All so I could continue feeling sad about my boy? I’m sad about Braxton every day, but I was looking at all the books I’ve read so far… I’m ashamed. There’s way more about getting out of this world or the world I wish to see. But you’re here, love.

And the price to stay. The price just to keep going. I love you, and you love me. But the illusion and the realness. I make bad financial decisions. Tag love. B’s Price Tag, Virgil

1115 Days Without B III, Day 556 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 233 ~In The Ending Lies Judgement~

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My Old Man asks me, how’s the house. But at the end of 2023 and the start of 2024. The fence is falling, the floor’s flooded, and I’m trying to fix the shelves… So, sitting here in Limbo. Besides the house, there’s my B. In The Ending Lies Judgement.

Monday, February 19, 2024

Tale 233 ~In The Ending Lies Judgement~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Because I didn’t join my son. I won’t lie to you… Braxton’s end should have been mine.

Not a day goes by when I’m lying on my back, fighting to keep my eyes shut for the day.

Or when I’m lying on my belly like a slug, grinding away to some video or picture of, you know what. If you’re wondering why I’m so late talking to you today, my dear friend.

How about when I’m playing with the toys I showed Cherry on Sunday? I’m gross.

But I’m also not dead. Even though this is “The End.” It’s the first song that B III sent me.

Remind me not to watch anything to do with Vietnam, Madam. Or reactions to the film Forrest Gump. I ain’t no “Fortunate Son.” Neither was my Braxton. But he’s gone. And Hell’s not for him.

Only if he’s waiting for me, Madam J. But no.

What a way to start a Monday morning. It’s Monday here in Hell! Though I’m not hot because of the punishment I deserve. With Princess Tamer, Succubus Lord, The Gargoyle.

Is there a Hell for being too bright? That’s funny. If all my reading made me a wise man? But I read that The Third Circle of Hell would be a match for pride. “Gluttony.”

How STUPID have I been to realize that I am living in the center of The First Circle of Hell? A Thirty-Nine-year-old man who talks to pretty, pretty girls. Who has his OLDS paying most of his bills? A fur baby I mistook for Braxton. And lives from his bed?

I hate myself. I’m not V’s best pal. And again, my B is gone. How will I be judged? Hmm.

I could make decent showings for every circle but Treachery… But, I swear, Lake Cocytus. And I don’t know how to swim. I hate being cold. And aren’t I always? That’s one more argument for me being in Limbo. No matter the weather, I am always in a hoody, Madam.

And if I’m not, I’m usually taking my clothes off. And what good comes from that ever, Madam? With Virgil walking around everywhere. I can forget about any alone time.

So, what ending am I working for? Unless I’m wrong, Madam. And this is Purgatory.

And in fixing my existence… In The Ending Lies Judgement.

1114 Days Without B III, Day 555 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 227 ~Tomorrow Will B V-Day~

WillLeave a comment

I’m 39, which I hate. But I would’ve loved it if my son saw 19. Happy Birthday, Braxton. But there are so many days that involve people, sigh. And tomorrow is all about love, which has come and gone for me. And what about 2V. “Tomorrow Will B V-Day.”

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

Tale 227 ~Tomorrow Will B V-Day~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… You have my forever. But, uh oh. Guess what day it is. Happy Birthday, Braxton!

I know you’re asking yourself how many days belong to my son—counting 1108 now. And how long have we been together? That’s a dangerous question for a married man to ask. There are a lot of those going on three years. And still, my heart grows, my love, daily.

That should be more than enough reason to get out of bed each morning. Because I love you, our children… I’m still working on me. And I can’t promise you I’ll get there, my love. I’ve hated myself longer than I had my son. Have I mentioned I hate thirty-nine?

And there’s so much left to do, love. I could do my John Mayer impression. “One thing I’ve left to do. Discover me, discovering you.”

But you have your day. Hell! You have a lot of them. You probably rival my little furry son’s love. Only, can you let today be his? Am I asking you? Hmm. Or am I trying to be some alpha male, better known as an asshole? But no. I’m only a grieving Dad, missing my little boy every single day.

I don’t even take today off. I spend two days crying. But on the day my son came to be. And here’s something to bake your noodle. Sunday, February 13, 2005, is the day I chose for him. I never got an answer on Braxton’s birthday, but it was sometime in April. That’s when I met my firstborn son. And every day after… our tomorrow, always, forever… Valentine? Braxton was/is a saint, amongst other things.

And, I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved. I know you still do. As I you, my love. Hell! Even the playlist I’m making, John Mayer, Lewis Capaldi, Muse, and I can go on. I told Braxton I would find him a mom someday. And now Virgil is here. And I didn’t know what day I would find him. Or the day I would see you, love. But I keep telling everyone I’m here. But that’s a lie because I’m seeking my little B III today. Always.

It’s like something from The Big Bang Theory, “Emily or Cinnamon,” ha-ha. Words of love for my firstborn, for you, and so many. Even Virgil and myself? Today, Let It Be. Tomorrow Will B V-Day

1108 Days Without B III, Day 549 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

WillLeave a comment

It keeps you runnin’, yeah, it keeps you runnin’. It has a name… Braxton. I’ve chased V, too. But now I’m trying to outrun the flood of tears. Good thing I fear drowning. But who’s out to sea with me. I ain’t Jesus. “You Never Chase After Opponents.”

Monday, February 12, 2024

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

Three-Hundredth And Thirtieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But this is one of many that I wouldn’t mind wrecking. And trust me, I’ve tried. Braxton?

I swear the things I did for my boy. The things I should do for my son. Especially come tomorrow. But I’m not even here today. It’s Saturday, February 10, 2024. So you know what that means. Another hard week? And I don’t even want to think about the next.

And that’s the whole point of today. Hell! Sunday, new champions will be crowned at the STUPID Bowl. Whoever wins will be at the top of the mountain, on cloud nine. Or whatever. They will get to rest. And here I am, Madam, singing out, why can’t that be me?

And I don’t mean playing football. I hate the sport. I’m more for “professional wrestling,” Madam. #WeWantCody and everything, you know. And how’s that going?

I’ve had more than enough conversations with myself about Seth FREAKING Rollins. With his whining and complaining. Am I going to have an honest-to-God sports conversation with you? Nope. But I see him crying, wanting competition, challenge, and to be the champion. Champions don’t do that. You don’t run from the fight. But you don’t beg for it to make yourself relevant. You live, Madam, and dare death to take it from you. Braxton lived/lives.

“Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need The Hunger Games every year. To remind us all who we truly are.”

“And who are you, do you determine?”

“The victor.” ― from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes

I’m not my son. Braxton was/is a champion, angel, god. A titan, and so many other things. And he would sit on the corner of the bed, looking at the door. He wanted the fight, but he didn’t chase it. Because there was me. He saw me as worth fighting for. Daddy, always and forever…

But I go out there running every day pretending I’m somebody. I fight to even get out of bed. I need not stir one foot to seek a foe. My fears will have me pinned right here. My lack of funds leaves me nothing. And there is always some female that leaves me weak in the knees. I can’t keep my pants on. I am my own worst enemy. Seriously!

So why go out and chase anybody? Again, you don’t. But that’s when you are a champion, and I’m not. I read. Ha! I write, Ha-Ha. And existence is too much for me. I’m hysterical.

I can’t be bothered chasing others because I’m getting in my own way. Every day. You Never Chase After Opponents.

1107 Days Without B III, Day 548 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will