Tag: Questions

Tale 185 ~They’ll B Firsts Virgil~

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Feels like the first time? It was love at first sight. Or should I go all “Like A Virgin?” To be honest, I’m more for die another day… It would be a first if I was ever successful with … anything. I raised a good son once. “They’ll B Firsts Virgil.”

Tuesday, January 2, 2024

Tale 185 ~They’ll B Firsts Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But when was the first time I felt it that it fell from my lips?

When was the first time I pulled an Akon? What I mean is (thank you, Miss Critic) is, when did the song I Wanna “F” you turn into, I Wanna Love You? I can walk and chew bubblegum at the same time. Ha-Ha! “This Is Us,” this is “Life Itself.” But there is B III.

Or not… Am I not falling into the doom and gloom on Day 2 of the new year? I’m trying.

But I’m still counting Day 1066. I can’t tell you about Day 1. The day I met my firstborn in 2005, sometime in April. Are you sick of my pop culture references? Ask the critic. Only today, or rather yesterday. I didn’t know how to feel. I still don’t know.

On Monday, all I felt was tired. A bit like now as I laid off the energy shot. There’s still time. There’s still first. But it’s incredible how you can remember some so vividly. The others… I can’t tell you about my first time making love… What was it I said about Akon. “My Love.” I was hot, horny, and in a hurry. It was more get your freak on, if anything. I know some things got better. Not the grief of losing Braxton. But being with a girl… um, you? What about the first time I fell in love? The first time I thought such a thing. Oh My Love. How about crushes? Tram-Anh Tran, AKA Tina Nguyen from Ghostwriter. Between her and Toonami, it was all about Asian culture. Then, either Elizabeth Hurley, Lynda Carter, or Carrie Fisher, it was all brunettes and/or dark hair. Mostly… But like Captain America probably told Peggy Carter, “I can do this all day” or night. Whatever

Uh, I didn’t write down what I felt after losing my son that first day. But I know the truth.

Grief, Sadness, as the song goes, Feeling super, super, super suicidal. But I stayed here—fate, destiny, who knows, my love. But I stayed because I would feel something else. Love! “I wanna be livin’ for the love of you.” I won’t lose that. It won’t be a first. Never.

But every day. With my first breath, I ask why, worry, and wonder. Our love first. They’ll B Firsts Virgil

1066 Days Without B III, Day 507 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 184 ~Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece~

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Can I not be negative? If just for one day. With that rule, the list would be… a masterpiece. And how was today? Happy New Year. I was at the Day Job, and that took no love or skill. But being a writer or a Dad? Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece

Monday, January 1, 2024

Tale 184 ~Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But not this one. I don’t think… Anyway, Happy New Year! Though it’s still New Year’s Eve.

Time-Travel? Madam, you know how they ask if you had one superpower, what would you choose? Comedy comes and threes. Necromancy, Time-Travel, X-Ray Vision. Invisibility if I had a fourth. Madam, you know why I would want to become a necromancer. Yes, it is a new year, or it will be in about twelve hours. And yes, I’m trying to… (grumbles), “Put On A Happy Face.” But everything comes back to my son Braxton. Cheers to a chance to tell his story and keeeping Virgil Vivi Bradford breathing. Madam, this brings up the subject of time travel. How could I have done better with Braxton? Or what about V’s future? With writing, I can see it if I keep my eyes in my head. Uhh…

Again, X-Ray Vision and Invisibility. My dear Madam. At times, technology indeed goes too far. Madam, have I committed any crimes in the new year? Let’s say speeding… Day Job. Which means I should focus on a real superpower I have. Writing? So I ask myself the question. Do I have the love and skill for it? It’s one of the few resolutions I’ve kept. Madam, it doesn’t mean I have that love and skill. And a masterpiece? Another resolution. But how do I accomplish this? My second superpower would be this Madam… choice. Yesterday, well, today, I talked about making DOA my first song of the year. Only there’s Weapon Of Choice by Fatboy Slim. Okay, so if writing is “my” choice, Madam. Um…

Masterpiece. I should keep repeating that to myself. So, to create something, if anything, in memory of my son. Now, last year, I would say, um, money, mammaries, and manhood. Even now, I’m having trouble stopping my hands… No! Not because of that, dear Madam. I mean with writing. Yes, tomorrow will be hard… Stop It! And I have to stay up until midnight anyway, as it’s still the 31st. Does that mean I have a love for the craft? Madam, with some love, is there any left for me? I want to do less on Monday, today, or whatever—the Day Job. And I wouldn’t be working it if I followed the rules. Hmm? Happy New Year, Day One. Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece

1065 Days Without B III, Day 506 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 178 ~To B Moody Virgil~

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Every day, I get asked, by a computer, mind you, what my mood is like. I’m always worried about something. Being thirty-nine… something always hurts. And since comedy comes in threes. I don’t know. It’s the day after Christmas. So, To B Moody Virgil.

Tuesday, December 26, 2023

Tale 178 ~To B Moody Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… If you didn’t believe me, you would have left already. Or is it the fans?

I’m sure I’ve sang to you before, “I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.” Can you even hear me over all of the fans? What about my boy? Every hair, tear, and speck of dust over what, 1059 Days? It’s all gone “Bye Bye Love,” life, and even a specific type of lunacy. B. But that’s not true at all. Even with this being the day after Christmas. Presents? December 25 was something to remember? Well, seeing as how I’m time-traveling here, my love. I can still call you that, right? I have your love, our family. Lives that do concern me. And I’m still writing, wailing, and waiting for my son. But I don’t blame Santa Claus.
This is all my doing, love.

What? Being in a mood? And I won’t treat you like the computer and say, Worried, Pained. And the third thing is always a toss-up. I need more than Discombobulated. Unfortunately, the only word I can think of that is better itself starts with a D. I would never include you or the children. Am I including V in that? Right now, no. So AHEM, “I am The Walking Dead.” And like any zombie, I am up and about without purpose other than to make the living miserable. My friends, enemies, everyone else… And this Christmas, I give you another; I’m sorry, and you give me forgiveness. Sucks! Now that is a mood. Just like tired, scared, horny, sad, lonely, stupid, mad, effed, insane, dead…

And the only gift in a box I wanted, I gave myself. And it doesn’t even have my name, love. Braxton. Do I want to make myself out to be Pandora? I’ve been looking at Braxton’s “grave” more and more because of what rests under the drawer beneath it. Hope? Peace? Christmas is the time for that, playing the STUPIDEST Stevie Wonder tunnage “Someday At Christmas.” But lover, this is the day after, meaning it’s time to return to normal. Tuesday, yeah, right! I can still hear the fans blowing. And even with them, I can hear how I’m letting down my family. “Give love on Christmas day. No greater gift is there than love.” To be in the mood, but… To B Moody Virgil.

1059 Days Without B III, Day 500 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

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Merry Christmas? And we’re celebrating? Someone born to save us. And as for myself… The gift of noise to the neighbors with the fans running? “Kibble” for Virgil. And turning on a light, ah, my Olds. Pain’s my gift. Hurts When You Hurt Somebody.

Monday, December 25, 2023

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one saying Happy Holidays over Merry Christmas. Or whatever, sigh. Oh, and Merry Christmas, Madam.

“It’s how I was raised; the OGs had me.” Or more like my Olds, right? What? Did you think Virgil and I would be listening to Christmas music today? Hell! At this very moment, it’s Saturday, December 23, 2023. Fortunately, I haven’t “hurt” any person… Humanity… But I love my Braxton and, like Virgil, more than most people. And you always hurt the (ones) you love/like. And that’s what I’m pondering on Christmas Day, Madam.

Again, it’s the 23rd, and what have I done for 2V now? Oh yeah, food, water, outside time, and I don’t know how long that’ll last. Look at the floor, dear Madam. There’s no money.

The 25th? There are no presents. No special meal. How about an I love you?

At least I can’t hurt Braxton with that anymore. The last time I’m sure he heard me say that was on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Now, that’s a day worth remembering. No matter how much it hurts, Madam. Again, on the 23rd and 25th of December, what a waste, Madam.

A waste that started all the way back on E-Day. Who knows? By the time you see this, Madam. The Grim Reaper instead of Santa could have visited me. But Santa could always bring Hemlock instead of Mistletoe. Medicated for your protection, indeed, I wish

Because with everyone that I’ve hurt on the daily… Hell! With me sitting here powering God knows what devices. All those fans were blaring downstairs for what? One day’s silence?

I should have been on Saturday, August 13, 2021. That would have given V a chance at a better life. They say that euthanasia is the last gift of love. But I’ve never believed that with B III. So rescue is the first gift of love. I don’t believe that with V. No, that was commendation. A sign should be over the door: “Abandon all hope ye who enter here.”

The entrance to Hell, right? All Halloweeny or close. With Virgil’s birthday being October 20, 2020. One way he’s a better man/male than me. Virgil values his life on Christmas.

And he’s not hurting anyone. The source of my pain, knowing that I do. And, like the fans, how do I stop it? I could celebrate Christmas and Easter… God, how many holidays can pass the buck to someone else? Or kick the can down the road. Madam, there are rules. Example? Rule 15: I Take My Own Lumps. But I can’t, Madam. The floor, fans, and family. What about Braxton’s Aunt and “my” friends? Again, if I just lay here, somebody is left in pain because of me. And that’s every day. “They” talk about being born black is wrong, Madam. Being born ME is wrong. “And it hurts like Hell.” The day I want? The day it doesn’t. But not today. Every Day Hurts When You Hurt Somebody

1058 Days Without B III, Day 499 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

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There’s paperwork around here saying when 2V lost his balls. And a few days ago, I had a floor beneath my feet. You know what those things have in common. Hmm? I’m not looking up either one. Because I’m no kind of man. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

Tuesday, December 19, 2023

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… but I’m not a repairman, a janitor, or a groundskeeper. A friend, a father, F…er

As in, “Feel like makin’ love to you.” No, my love. If I had to sum up how I’m feeling… Creep would have to be the word. Hell! I feel like my boys at this particular moment. I mean, dead and with no balls. Braxton and Virgil, respectively. How is it I would choose the life of a dog? At the same time, both of them are better men than me. What is a man?

How To Be A Man
How To Be The Man
What Makes A Monster And What Makes A Man
What Makes A Good Man
I Would Fall In Love With A Dead Man (I Misheard)

I hope you heard me right that I misheard that last one from “The Matrix” My Trinity and I’m Neo…

Oh No, my love! I’m no one. Or at least that’s what I wish I could say. If I had my way, I would never say anything again. I would have died right there beside my firstborn son, 1052 days ago. “I don’t ever wanna feel like I did that day.” Hell! I never left. Existence has been putting one foot in front of the other. And my first step. You know, “towards the grave, you know the box awaits its grisly load.” And as for the other shoe to drop, well… look at the damn floor. It’s not like I need to worry about the critic today, my love. There are bigger fish to fry. It’s funny that this all started with a flood.

I don’t know if Virgil can swim. And you know I can’t. Yet somehow, I survived the tears that came with Braxton’s death. And as for my own? Not yet, I “Woke Up This Morning.” And again, I’m late taking Virgil outside. So what? He can stand in the yard, doing his best impression of a zombie, tombstone, or a mess. Yes, look at the floor, my love. A man provides. And “unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” I’m still 39, my love. No! I was 36 when Little B died. I can’t return to 0, and I’m not looking at 40. Love, a man chooses, a slave obeys. I’m not a man or slave. I am The Walking Dead. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

1052 Days Without B III, Day 493 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

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Motivational speakers talk about those with excuses. Why aren’t I at the table? They had to pull the floor up. Why aren’t I writing? I have a freaking Day Job. Why am I in bed? I’m tired, and B III’s gone. But Tomorrow… The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

Monday, December 18, 2023

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. I can sum it up in one word. Tomorrow… Two? No Fear! And Three?

“I love you” was my favorite… as the song goes. All nothing but excuses, falsehoods. Today is Saturday, December 16, 2023. How about why I’m writing to you right now? Hell! I told Braxton all the time that this would lead to a future. So where is it? Why hasn’t it happened? What’s the excuse? I’m no good for Virgil, and I wouldn’t dare use him as a prop, a scapegoat, or an excuse. Indeed, I have another one-word answer for you, dear Madam. Laziness. How about Lazy-Ass? I can keep going. (Opens a dictionary).

  1. Braxton
  2. Disgusted
  3. Masturbation
  4. Sleep
  5. Sick
  6. Money

These are in no particular order. But I’ll say, AHEM, “Sleep is for those people who are broke.”

Do you want evidence that I’m healing over losing my son? Not accepting! Oh no, Madam! Braxton died 1051 days ago, and I’m still counting. But when I wake up every morning and cut off the alarm, do you know what I think? It’s not “Braxton isn’t here anymore.” I say, “I’m tired and should try this ‘Big Sleep’ thing again.” I mean, either way, “Make Me Wanna Die.” Only it’s more I’m sick of existence rather than Braxton’s gone

Don’t get me wrong. The day Braxton died is still worse than the day I was born. B is ahead of E-Day, as it should be. Ohh! “What’s really going to bake your noodle later on is my excuse for waking up.” Do you know?

That makes two of us without a clue. I can tell you why I feel disgusted with myself right now, Madam. Eden McCoy… I am going to Hell. Instagram, GH. I woke up and… TMI! What’s my excuse for it, though? I’m sure I told Lady Lunalesca about stressing out. Madam, every single word has me that way. Hell! Even the meaning of life. Whatever…

“Seek out a kingdom worthy of your soul.” Madam, why aren’t I? Braxton’s still dead. Getting any deader seems unlikely. A zombie apocalypse? The end of the world, uh huh.

“My future is coming on.” But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Let my will be done tomorrow. That is my excuse. Dying? I’ll FAIL Today and Tomorrow. The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

1051 Days Without B III, Day 492 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

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Follow Your Nose? Do I look like Toucan Sam? And I intend to be a man of leisure, not some random mouth breather. So, I write books? Nope! All the huffing and puffing I do. Women, work, worrying about the house’s mildew scent. “They’ll B Air Virgil.”

Tuesday, December 12, 2023,

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Even when we’re on the beach. And I’m still here typing away—my favorite dream.

Sigh… Is that of relief? Regret? Or do I want to rant? It’s a relief that I no longer have the old Day Job. That same breath I used to call out to Braxton whenever I returned. “Just me, Baby B, I would say.” I’ve been holding it lately, but not because of you or Virgil. Baby Doll, it’s been hard. I keep saying that I know. It’s been 1045 days and counting. And I still can’t describe Braxton’s scent when he cuddled beside me. I miss it like crazy. Now there’s only mold and mildew, and I need to spend a lot more money on diapers… Or teach Virgil that he has to go outside for a reason. I’m glad I’m better at business.

Open mouth and insert foot, right? I’ve never been one for talking love. My personality. Cult of Personality. I’ll sing all day long. I’ve even found myself singing to Virgil from time to time. And then there’s playing with our kids, teaching, reading before bedtime. And what do we do after the children are put to bed… Sometimes, “It Seems Like You’re Ready.” Uh, all of the time because… well… You want to know that I’m still breathing. Or at least it seems like I want to. I have your love and the memory of my firstborn son, my love. I have things to keep me breathing. That’s not the question. It’s going about it. Contrary to popular opinion, it’s not that simple, Baby Girl.

This is probably why I do my best Jay Sherman impression and become the most critical critic of my existence. It stinks. I so need to learn to shut up. Don’t waste my breath. Ha! But I won’t turn to cigarettes or, as Todd would say, the “Devil’s Lettuce.” And while I’m on the subject of Eric Vall’s characters. There’s Grayson Price and his thing for vanilla perfume. Your scent can be intoxicating, my dear. Only I should go out and buy some air fresheners for the house, with all the trouble. The smell of cash. “Dollar, dollar bill, y’all.”

I need to take a deep breath and be thankful for it. I’m always trying, my love. Breathing’s the hardest thing? They’ll B Air Virgil?

1045 Days Without B III, Day 486 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

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What does it take to have the will not to sleep? There was Braxton’s sickness. Then I found out he was dying. A bit of bucks from the Day Job. And then bouncing along in bed doing… other, never mind. And in the end, who am I. The End Embodies MY WILL

Monday, December 11, 2023

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one I made, that said, “My son will never die.” Unwritten, right? Considering Rule 321.

I would make it either Rule 1 or 366. Hell! I fear a whole lot, but for Braxton. His courage. I should pray for that more than the other stuff. But didn’t I say God, and I haven’t been speaking lots? So, um, 1044 days and counting. Because, in the end, it doesn’t even matter. He’s still dead. And what was I willing to do to save him? I’d give anything. Or at least that’s what I want to say. But what do I do in the end? Why am I late talking to you? Madam, I’m time-traveling, but it’s past 3:30 PM this Saturday, December 9, 2023. Madam, I didn’t even nap today, and all for what? What does the end goal look like, Madam? Please don’t say girls.

“You exist to continue your existence. What’s the point?” Equilibrium

As I see the end. It’s me closing my eyes and hoping I’ll never have to open them. Never again. It’s like I’m always ready for a funeral… my own. “Hell is for those who don’t know they’re dead.” So, for all I know, I may have “done it.” Hmm… well, being here now. If the end is life. Which I have been thinking about plenty with that lady in Texas, Kate Cox. The life and death being forced upon her. I keep saying, Madam, I want a family, but I don’t force women into anything. No! All the lives I could have made are in tissues, tears in the bed sheets, and these two hands. I hear you. Gross!

But do you know what’s worse? You guessed it, breaking the rule and knowing that Braxton was going to die before me. And I did think about it long before it happened on that Sunday, January 31, 2021. And it was by my will that brought about my son’s end. So how does this (motions to myself) all end? And why don’t I feel my will has anything to do with it. If you want the short answer, money. People telling you differently are lying. You can’t see the end if you don’t know where to start. That’s why Braxton fought so hard to live. How do you begin saving me? V has no answers. My will be done indeed. The End Embodies MY WILL.

1044 Days Without B III, Day 485 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

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I’ve never been blessed with growing things. Well, weeds… the fence is falling, so I had to cut the grass. There was/is Braxton. B’s been fifteen for a couple of years. Mold? Yeah, from the flooding house. Uh, Virgil Vivi? Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

Tuesday, December 5, 2023

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… more and more each day. How Your beauty grows with each new day, my love.

I hope I don’t sound shallow, but I mean it. The children you… uh, we have brought into this world. You know how people are these days. But I feel I had a hand in it with “pouring the Bisquick.” I was talking to someone about that yesterday. Madam Justice. Love, you grow during this time of year. Uh, the holidays? My love, I do mean lovelier as you put the ornaments up. And you help our kids with them. All the lights on our trees. And am I going to make you put the lights up alone? I’m not that kind of husband, ha. “You’re my angel.” But I’m not ready to see you in Heaven. Promised you Heaven but put you through Hell…

Yes, my love, you could tell where I was going with this. Can you believe I’ve kept Braxton Barks out of this until now? I go back to when I would tell him as Caesar told his son Cornelius. One day, you will be as tall as a king. He was looking down at me every morning. I lived to serve. As his father, my love for him gave me the strength “To Be A Man.” I’ve been thinking a lot about that, with everything happening these days, my love. I remember my Ma telling me I could sit on my behind with unconditional love. “Unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” And I’m approaching forty. I hate saying thirty-nine. But to be forty, love?

Virgil is only three. Braxton was/is fifteen. I have all our children to watch grow up into good people. I know I’ve been all about the music today. Um, Monday, December 4, 2023, because businesses won’t run themselves… And how I grew this one. Well, you can ask Madam Justice. Anyway, regarding our children, ahem, “I hope they’re not like me. I hope they understand.” Because their Daddy never grew up. I am trying, my love, every single day. Oh, you know I can grow big enough for you… I’m trying to be funny now. I swear, love. I can grow mold. The house flooded. I grow impatient with Virgil. And all that I fear. The son I still mourn. Rise! Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

1038 Days Without B III, Day 479 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

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For the past few weeks… Hell! Why not just say, 1037 days and counting? I’ve been losing. When it comes to the whole Victory or Death bit. One is definitely closer than the other. But what if… Happily ever after? Ha-Ha! But… Have Plans After The Win

Monday, December 4, 2023

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

Three-Hundredth And Twentieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. Does it look like I’m winning to you? Being with my boy, that’s winning.

And dying? As the song goes, “Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die.” (Raises my hand). Hell! Don’t mind if I do, as it beats this place by a mile, Madam. Today at the Day Job, that’s Sunday, December 3, 2023, to be specific. I was thinking, instead of saying, “I’m Here.” I should start saying, “I’m one step closer to my boy.” I wonder, would Braxton consider seeing his Old Man again a win? I looked in the mirror. And I heard the things that came out of my mouth. And as far as my Old Man… I woke up today and this Monday saying, “Soy un perdedor. I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me.” But Virgil?

Talk about taking the L. Of all the people that could have adopted him, he got me. Notice I said adopted. Hell! So was/is Braxton. But I call him my firstborn, my pancake. Because he couldn’t have been more mine if I had “poured the Bisquick. My Braxton, the winner. And with everything going on with the house, I can’t imagine giving some girl the D ha-ha. Yeah, even if I paid for it. And what if it were more than that? Eight years, Madam. That’s how long I’ve been here, and I’ve had no idea what to do: Dad, Hubby, a man in general. No matter what I do, I have plans to get effed… Isn’t that what happened? I just did it myself.

But what if, hmm? I’ve been hearing that a lot. What if or Destinies and the like? To win, ok. There’s a reason I’ve been heavy into HaremLit in my reading. Hell! In my writing. Please! Madam, if I did any of that for real, well… I do want to be a writer. That’s winning. Besides that, I want to be like Dennis Hof. Again, um, dead? But while he was alive, I swear. Next to all those Softcore “films” I was watching, Cathouse was everything, I swear, Madam. Can you imagine me in charge of anything? This house, “my” daily humiliations, and some ho, ho, ho’s. And then there’s a studio like PureTaboo. Live forever and conquer all. Winning! Have Plans After The Win