Tag: Questions

Tale 016 ~All Men Fear; Cowards Run~

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

Monday, July 17, 2023

Tale 016 ~All Men Fear; Cowards Run~

Three-Hundredth Rule Madam Justice

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 010 ~Virgil, Today Will B~

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Someday they’ll be happy tears? I remember when B’s Aunt got married, and now um… not my business. But a day will come that won’t be worse than the last. V might hop in the car. I’ll win the lotto. Or have some two-legged kids. “Virgil, Today Will B”

Tuesday, July 11, 2023

Tale 010 ~Virgil, Today Will B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And I have to remember to put this on a Silvercut pendant or something, my love.

Braxton, Virgil, Will, Today, or reverse it. Should I add, always? Buying jewelry of dogs? Hell! This wouldn’t be necessary if Braxton was still alive. If I was the man, I should have been. Seems there’s a lot of that going around. It’s day 891, and still counting as always. How many days have I woken up and been excited about it? (Sigh) A day that I can “honest to God” say I wanted to. Considering what time it is? I didn’t know I would meet Virgil on Saturday, August 13, 2022. I have to start reminding myself of it. To think I knew, ha. Dying and living, but it’s the sticking around that pisses people off. I remember that from a movie I saw.

Movie nights with B III’s Aunt. I never knew that those nights would grow to be so special to me and my son. Ask me what are the best moments of my life… well, existence. Actually, no! I will say life. And don’t worry my love, I will get to us in a second. The day I was born… does any baby expect it. Being thirty-eight now, I see it as the worst day ever. Second only to B III’s passing away. I killed B. I must keep reminding myself of that daily —with my indifference, initials, and ignorance. Hmm. And then there are the days to expect the unexpected. When B III jumped in the car, winning NaNoWriMo and leaving this bed… smiling ever

Because if I hadn’t, I would have never met you, “My Love.” Yes, I want to do my best Sia impression, ha-ha. You know music has a way of altering my mood immensely. Weak? Love, I might be. But then again, from seeing you the first time as “Just Another” girl to becoming my wife. Now that’s a day I can say it is a good life, all of it. But B III? There’s also the day that you and I made… pancakes. B III is my original, but for ours, I really did have to “pour the Bisquick.” That was a lot of fun. Do you “Remember The Time?” Someday I’ll… not forget. But look on Braxton, Virgil, myself smiling. Virgil, Today Will B

891 Days Without B III, Day 332 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 009 ~Even With Instructions, People Evolve~

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

Monday, July 10, 2023

Tale 009 ~Even With Instructions, People Evolve~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Ninth Rule

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 003 ~Fire Works, Braxton, Virgil~

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My boys hate fireworks… I know B did. And from Virgil’s behavior from gunfire, thunderbolt, and lightning, very, very frightening. Can’t say I care for fireworks. Except in bed. But what about a girlfriend or a honeymoon. Fire Works, Braxton, Virgil

Tuesday, July 4, 2023

Tale 003 ~Fire Works, Braxton, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m independent. I’m free. Now I can speak like a member of the GOP…

I’m not in a celebratory mood now despite everything, my love. “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man… a black man.” If I have to explain that to you, we’ve got problems. Other than another day of me mourning my son? 884 days and counting. Not that I consider that a problem. I should be more concerned that I had to look up the term “Compound Nouns.” Um. You don’t have to be a genius to make money in the USA. Ha! I wish I had sooner, as if that would have kept my little boy away from the fire. I’ll stop. Please, a lie if I ever heard one. Am I speaking in a political sense or that of Virgil here?

“Honey and the Moon” Honeymoon? Do we even have a song? Again, today we should be listening to something much more pro-American. I swear, love, much like my B III… Now that is an insult. I’m sad for my son and mad about our country. And it only gets worse. But let me cry about my boy and when it comes to the country. Well, I’ll leave that The Newsroom, nuts, and better Howard Beale from the movie Network. YouTube? Every morning after the alarm, there is a song in my head from Braxton. Playlist? Yeah, I made one yesterday but not for him. Although today it was “Lately” Trinton. Reading the lyrics to that, though… fuck how that describes you and me right now.

Girlfriend? And no, I’m not trying to sound like… I was going to say something… I don’t know; sexist, homophobic, or downright rude. I only know; I was thinking about the girls I used to know or a drag queen. That is another reason to miss Braxton. I could tell him anything. Ninety-nine percent, anyway. Going back to the days, though, when you were my girlfriend? Hell! I’m thirty-eight, love. Thirty-eight, and I’ll admit. Fireworks still creep me out. Sort of. Braxton and Virgil, same. Do our two-legged kids like fireworks? It only shows how much I’ve been paying attention. I prefer the ones you and I made on our honeymoon and our last time… Fucking, making love? Language, I know. But what to say, love? Fire Works, Braxton, Virgil

884 Days Without B III, Day 325 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 002 ~Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary~

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

Monday, July 3, 2023

Tale 002 ~Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Eighth Rule

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

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 361 ~Love… God, Braxton, Virgil~

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God is Love? I suppose if you look at it as a dog. But cats think they are gods… There are plenty who love… but “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” I want to be a good man. A Man Provides, right? Love? B could do that. “Love… God, Braxton, Virgil.”

Tuesday, June 27, 2023

Saga 361 ~Love… God, Braxton, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I love money, right? In God We Trust. It’s written right there, my love.

“They say money is the root of all evil
but that’s the first place I read, in got we trust
Crazy ain’t it?” La Reina De Blanco, Single by Pitbull

My Love? As if I even deserve to sing Sia right now, Saturday, June 24, 2023. We could have all the money in the world, which wouldn’t change me. Well, not for the better. Then again, I was… am Braxton’s father. Not to go all Vin Diesel… however, “FAMILY.” My family, which was me and B. Our family, the two of us, the kids. And is V still around here somewhere? There are my friends, the businesses. The man in the mirror, my love? Not yet. And I don’t know if that will ever happen. That’s as much chance as me becoming a Christian man. But I still know a bit of the Bible. 1 John 4:8; near the end, it says, “God is love.”

Braxton is love. You are. Who knows; Virgil could be someday, God willing… Not funny. I don’t want to laugh today. I know I won’t be by the time you read this. Don’t need jokes. As LL Cool J said, “I Need Love.” And that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the past few days. Hell! It’s like this damn nail that I haven’t ripped off my thumb yet. Maybe? As the song goes, I believe I can see the future. “Cause I repeat the same routine.” Then I think about something like love. And that never stays the same; I’m afraid to say. The same goes for hate. Saving that for myself. Looking into the mirror, “I hate you so much right now. Aah!”

That’s why I have so much love around me. God’s Love. I’d know much more about Nayru’s Love from The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (sigh) —something I love. Well, not video games so much anymore. But as if you haven’t had enough pop culture references from me this Saturday. How about 98 Degrees singing “I Will Still Love You.” My love for you grows every second, minute, hour, and day. Same for our kids, my firstborn… then there’s Virgil. You love me very much, my love. And the kids… as long as they don’t look at me like I do my father. It’s his birthday. But I won’t be saying I love him. “What Is Love?” You, family. Me? Love… God, Braxton, Virgil

877 Days Without B III, Day 318 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 360 ~Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords~

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

Monday, June 26, 2023

Saga 360 ~Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Seventh Rule

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 354 ~On Paws B, V~

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Pa’s thinking about paw prints. And putting on pause all the effed-up stuff he would like to do. But it’s only Tuesday, and this week isn’t getting better. Someone asked how my Father’s Day was. B’s gone, no baby mommas, V’s somewhere. “On Paws B, V”

Tuesday, June 20, 2023

Saga 354 ~On Paws B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. One thing never on pause is, as the song goes, “Money making is a wonderful thing.

Pa will always provide because that is what a man does. A man provides, as I was telling M Anime today. As a matter of fact, that is what my business, any business is about. Always and forever, “I want the money, money, and the cars. Cars and the clothes, the hoes, I suppose.” The things I shouldn’t be singing while married, huh? We’re still… Speaking of being a husband. What about me being a father, a pa, and a daddy? I don’t remember a lot from this weekend, to be honest. Does money make me a good one, hmm? From my employees in my line of work, I hear a lot of guys that pay to hear themselves called daddy. I have a family.

Paws. Yes, before you and our kids, there was my firstborn. My Braxton. I can still remember the last hug I gave him. Even now. I have a card and a cast of his final paw prints. And whenever I hear Virgil’s footsteps, I can forget sometimes. Minutes, a second? My son is gone, but I have to keep being a Dad. I don’t remember myself before my B III. Again we have our children, and I love them with everything I am. Unconditionally. But I’ve been reading “Good Grief: On Loving Pets, Here and Hereafter.” And while I love my son, I think he’s like Peter Pan, and I’m a lost boy. He’d never grow up. And without him, well, I’m still so lost.

Pause. That has been my entire existence. Or the past 870 days. Only nothing ever stops. Does it? My heart is still beating. So I’m alive. And as long as I’m breathing, Braxton is too. Two. That’s how old Virgil is, in case I forget. And his “Gotcha Day” is coming up in a few months. I’ve been on pause getting everything I promised him and Braxton. Love is not something that should be paused, but spending money. What about us? “You can fight a lot of enemies and survive, but not your own biology.” That’s Lord of War. Though I work more for life than death. Desire is desire. For you, baby girl. To love our family. Who I am On Paws B, V

870 Days Without B III, Day 311 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 353 ~I Am Different, Not Less~

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

Monday, June 19, 2023

Saga 353 ~I Am Different, Not Less~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Sixth Rule

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 347 ~Baby, Me, B, V~

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“Baby, baby, baby, oh. Like, “Baby, baby, baby, no.” I don’t think I could be so “articulate” when Braxton was in my lap dying. And why am I complaining? A tummy ache, ear wax, and a few too many pills. Me and the boys… such babies. “Baby, Me, B, V.”

Tuesday, June 13, 2023

Saga 347 ~Baby, Me, B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and besides writing books. There are my “businesses.” And possibly bending… breaking… a few laws sometimes.

Not that I have been thinking much about that these days. Now sure. I’ve been crying about Braxton a little more than usual. 863 days and counting… I’m not ashamed. Billionaires are big babies for the most part. Only it’s not my sinning, my love. It’s sickness. And we’re a week in or out… I don’t know. Every day I feel a bit better. Hmm… Like one of my “stars,” I ask. How do you want me? And everything within me says that I have to be a man: a boss, a father, a husband. I wear so many hats or heavy the head that wears the crown, whatever. My love, I’m getting the whole “Lap Pillow” trope. Again it’s my firstborn, as always. Braxton.

B would lie in my lap often enough. I was on his approved list of comfy spots. And that’s when I would call him “Baby B.” Besides, when I’d walk in the house. “Just me, Baby B.” Or I would call him “You Big Baby.” No wonder he liked lying there as I petted him. Yeah, I’m getting lost in nostalgia a bit. A time when I felt well. Because yet again, this past week… I’d be lying if I said I haven’t cried out of pain. Hurting, sickness, everything. And rather than a pillow… What kind of man am I that wants to be babied? I want to crawl into your lap for a while. Weak, weird? “Unconditional love for women, children, and dogs.”

“To Be A Man,” oh “My Love.” “My love, leave yourself behind. Beat inside me, leave you blind,” Would you sing to me? Hell! Can I hear you at all, Baby girl? Today I know I ain’t going to sleep for a bit. I’ve had my first energy shot in days (sigh). Not that I’m going to be any more of a man right now. From my stomach to my ear, and now the rest of my damn head. And did I forget all of the pills that I’ve been taking? Hmm? All I want to hear is, “Poor, sweet baby. Poor, poor, sweet, sweet baby.” Or to see my Baby B. Or feel like your man, baby. But I’m all… Baby, Me, B, V

863 Days Without B III, Day 304 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will