Tag: Questions

Saga 235 ~Not A B-Movie Virgil~

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Not my best work, but Will Smith has had moments like that… I wish I could say I spent all day watching Collateral Beauty. Or something more educational like The 1619 Project. But what I’ve been watching and doing so late. “Not A B-Movie Virgil”

Tuesday, February 21, 2023

Saga 235 ~Not A B-Movie Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and Will Smith isn’t… 350 Million and other things on the internet wasting my time today.

Death. Or rather looking it up, which begins with life. This means Braxton Barks Bradford. Don’t worry; I’m not suicidal… okay, that’s a lie; I usually am. But as Morgan Freeman spoke in Lean On Me, I’m not one to do things “Expeditiously.” Or, as the Beatles sang, “living is easy with eyes closed.” For me, that would mean sleeping. Practice for the big sleep, my love. And didn’t I want to talk about Collateral Beauty tonight? Will Smith and the like. If anything, I have been focusing on reasons for existing all day today. Any and all to Endure and Survive. Hell! The Last of Us is the only thing I’ve been watching, love. More death? I haven’t been to the doctor, have I?

Love? I can’t say I have ever loved myself. Here comes another movie reference. From Ben-Hur, “we keep you alive to serve this ship. Row well, and live.” I continue to exist because there is always someone that needs me… That’s not healthy, is it? But as I was telling M Anime. If love is not needed and can be tossed. Then it wasn’t love at all. I think. I couldn’t ask Braxton to stay, but I couldn’t save him either. Then marriage and family. Can I ask you to stay? Can I save you? All you need is love. But what’s left of me? Every day it’s like I’m watching the most horrible movie ever. It’s not Collateral Beauty. It’s “Welcome to My Life”

Time to look up songs and all this other stuff. Do you see what time it is? 7:30 PM. Fuck! Speaking of which. I’ve had time to look up all the porn in the universe because I don’t deserve anything real. What I wouldn’t give to sit on the loveseat with B and his aunt. Yes, love, we can do that too. Plus, there’s the bonus of the fact that I’m trying to make love. That would be time well spent, don’t you think? But the things that take my time nowadays. How I have the termite guy coming over at some point? I do need the house to hide in; well, we do. Talking about Love, Death, Time, Collateral Beauty. Not A B-Movie Virgil.

751 Days Without B III, Day 192 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 234 ~ Shame’s A Stop Sign, Go~

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My father made me ashamed to breathe. And when my furry son died. To breathe when I watched him take his last breath… There’s plenty I should be ashamed of and things that never bother me. But I ain’t going nowhere. Shame’s A Stop Sign, Go.

Monday, February 20, 2023

Saga 234 ~ Shame’s A Stop Sign, Go~

Two-Hundred and Eightieth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. But most seem stuck in the past or are living in some form of “1984.” A shame

As for myself, the past is that my son is dead. Only every day feels the same. Madam, I still check notices of lost dogs. I can’t get Virgil’s name right for anything. B’s where? Looking at me from up above? His Daddy suffering yet again from The Cherry Collision. Or so I think. I’m time-traveling, so it’s Saturday, February 18, 2023. And I don’t feel right at all. I should have caved. But now I’ll be out a few hundred bucks. Refund incoming? As far as the future goes… shouldn’t I be, at the very least, training Virgil? I am trying, Madam, honest. Outside, house, upstairs, using Virgil’s name for each command. Laws? There are rules, directives, and orders. But such a shame Madam.

This is one of those times that the shame of my history should have stopped me. Not learning from the past and all that jazz. No, I chose to be a Republican. So, an asshole. Though as the song goes to “Nobody but Me.” Aren’t I ashamed, Madam? Pissed, Scared? All the above. How the Hell am I ever going to explain, huh? Is losing cash worse than this feeling? What about going into Express Oil and trying to explain a fucked up tire, ha? But neither of those equals going to PetSmart with Braxton thinking he’s only sick, right? No, he was dying. The shame I felt only adds to the guilt. But then there’s V here and now. Shame Virgil Vivi got me.

But my shame at fucking up as a Daddy didn’t stop me from what? Saving him, did I do that? Fuck! The last thing I need is a reminder of Steve Urkel. If you’re wondering what’s been taking me so long today. My body? I’m ashamed of what’s going on inside, but outside? With The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident and the Collision, uh been busy. Pictures? And no, not any of my Braxton, mind you. Six Impossible Things shows that shame, as it will tomorrow. But the rule and the question remain. What is shame stopping me from doing, Madam? Honoring my son, of course. Taking care of myself. Infections… Living instead of existing? Because where am I going anyway? Shame’s A Stop Sign, Go.

750 Days Without B III, Day 191 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 228 ~2V Minus B III~

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Not all lovey-dovey, but my first love… no ifs, ands, or buts. B III, without question. A life that I love as it won’t be mine own. And yet I continue to imagine it. Triple B was supposed to be a part of it but the years. I hate Math. 2V Minus B III.

Tuesday, February 14, 2023

Saga 228 ~2V Minus B III~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I still want more. Don’t get me wrong. I hate Math now, like in school.

Hell! There was a week at the old Day Job where I made “around” $26.00. And having a billion now? I don’t know if either would have been enough to save my true love. Yes, I know it’s Valentine’s Day, but if I didn’t love you the other 364 days of the year, as always. Yes, I talk about my son B every day of the year. Well, make that two since B III died. Three considering he died thirteen days short of his sixteenth birthday. He’d be eighteen now. And I haven’t thought of chocolate, chrysanthemums, or cute jewelry, either, my love. There is a fantasy I have of fucking you wearing nothing but a crucifix or The Heart of The Ocean from Titanic.

Of course, making love to you, sex, or fucking, makes me the typical guy? Being your lover, your husband, your best friend… And, of course, we’re back to Braxton Barks… Eww! Am I right? I never understood how people were into that sort of pornography. Anyway, I know I must protect Braxton when I think of any chocolate. Yeah, poisonous. Chrysanthemums, Roses, and all kinds of flowers only make me think of Braxton in the yard. And as far as jewelry? Why haven’t I bought something to honor Braxton? Silver, Gold? How about today, being for diamonds? I love you. I’m trying not to burst into song but no promises. Only what did I promise you? I vowed, I swore. Till death? And without Braxton…

I didn’t mention hearts. And mine’s been broken going on 744 days. Losing my one. Honestly, I’m afraid that could cost me everything, and I don’t want it to, my love. I’m trying. But there’s a fur baby alone in Braxton’s room. The distance between you and me continues to grow. Fuck! You have no idea how hard that was. Four good songs, my love. If I can keep that promise, why can’t I add back what I lost? All the money in the world. Happy Valentine’s Day! I can give you a day. Then your birthday, anniversary, our kids. This is just one more day I’ve screwed up. Another negative. Three little words. I love you. But always and forever. 2V Minus B III

744 Days Without B III, Day 185 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 227 ~People Don’t Die Properly “Anymore” ~

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I’ve read that a coward dies many deaths, but the brave die once. So, I’m still here, and Braxton isn’t. Today he would be eighteen. I don’t want to think back to when I was that age. I met B in my twenties. “People Don’t Die Properly “Anymore.”

Monday, February 13, 2023

Saga 227 ~People Don’t Die Properly “Anymore” ~

Two-Hundred and Seventy-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means I will live forever. So why couldn’t I do that for Braxton? He’s eighteen today.

Why? Because I’m still alive. More like I still exist. Writing to you today of all days. Well, two days, today and Monday. I feel like Chris talking to Annie in What Dreams May Come. Sort of. I’m making you aware I exist so I can say what needs to be said. Which is this.

Happy Birthday, Braxton! Welcome to level eighteen B III! Too many more, B, my son. Now you know that Braxton died when he was fifteen. Thirteen days shy of sixteen. Madam, even now I know, not feel, these are facts. I should have followed Braxton. Everyone would say that’s not proper. Hell! Going to my granddaddy’s funeral smelling like a corpse isn’t, either. How about going to work today, Madam?

That’s one of many reasons that I’m not dead yet. Well, more like undead. A zombie, infected, an unperson? I was looking at my body Sunday… Madam, allow unselfishness to shine. My work is to do what Braxton and I always wanted. Was it more me than him? That’s fair? Anyway, we were supposed to be like Dennis and Domino Hof. I told M Anime. But it was Braxton’s Aunt Carolina. She let B run all over her body. Proper? Awesome? Maybe not, and yes. B loved her after that. As far as other people in B III’s Universe, hmm? As the song goes, “Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked.” So I won’t be joining B III anytime soon. I’m a bad man.

But I raised a good one when it comes to my son. My one saving grace. Yet, uh, the “special Hell?” The Ninth Circle of Hell. Treachery, Betrayal, of the one that loves me most? Madam, I looked in the mirror into cameras and a gallery I made. Emaciated. Madam, that’s the word that came to mind. Look at me ruining B’s birthday. I don’t even have the money to go and get some fries for him and myself. Well, I do, but I won’t. People. Being someone that’s… fucked, I don’t know. Only I’m still here, and Braxton isn’t. Madam, only the good die young. I want to be like the worst ones. To protect Braxton. He protects me? People Don’t Die Properly “Anymore”

743 Days Without B III, Day 184 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 221 ~Y B V Gushes~

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Gushing, oozing, leaking… not that. I mean talking to B III and a little to his aunt. Hell! She didn’t call the cops. But it’s like I might explode or more like overflow. Drown in tears last week; fake happiness next week. B’s B-Day. “Y B V Gushes”

Tuesday, February 7, 2023

Saga 221 ~Y B V Gushes~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now; how much is an apology nowadays? I should be gushing, oozing, and leaking apologies. Too sexual?

And after everything that went down last week. My mood stunk, but at least I don’t anymore. Um, don’t count your chickens? Only the “clinical” deodorant seems to be working. And at least I’m not spending cash on OnlyFans and such. Or other porn, right? If anything, I need to be spending money on the dogs… I will never not count B III in this. This is sort of a balancing week. Last week was when Braxton left the world. Next week will be when he comes into it. Or at least that’s what I have decided. February 13, always. I never believed I’d find love. No Valentine’s Day for me. The 13th… close enough. Somehow I found you. But to wrap up, “I’m Sorry?”

I wish those words could come rushing out of my mouth. Truthful? No. Worthy? Uh-uh. I do mean me, not you. Another reason we aren’t making the bedsprings sing… Seriously, “What’s My Age Again?” But I’m not bursting into song, either. Too busy “B.” A lie. Again I wish I could be all about Braxton this week. It Should have been last week, too, ha. But only one thing might burst soon because either way you look at it, I’m looking at the good ole days. Oh, and what do I call this? My family, my love, our children. Love. Everything is about love or, rather, sex. Should I start spouting out my philosophy too? This week isn’t about that. Losing love and having love.

Last week to the week after this. I didn’t want to talk to you. And I’m not sure B hears. But the moaning and groaning that comes out of me as I take “pornographic passions.” Maitland Ward? Still sort of does it for me sometimes, but I haven’t been looking at her… yeah. Still upset? Anyway, you and Braxton are kind of like my Topanga and Shawn. “How great is this? My favorite person in the world. And my wife.” From Girl Meets World remember. Sometimes I might want to ask myself; is that why I’ve been watching all this cheating, family breaking up, Hentai. I can’t talk about that to you, B, and definitely not V. It’s like I’m overflowing with, I don’t know what. Y B V Gushes

737 Days Without B III, Day 178 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 220 ~Don’t Worry Your Life Away~

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“Why should I worry? Why should I care?” I have a son… I had a son. Now there’s a freeloader in the house, but when I put money down. To what raise him up? A little worry on top of so many others. It stinks. Or is that me? Don’t Worry Your Life Away.

Monday, February 6, 2023

Saga 220 ~Don’t Worry Your Life Away~

Two-Hundred and Seventy-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… There aren’t consequences to my actions. “Only color we care about is the green of your dollars.’

I heard that in a movie called Posse (1993). Yes, I said Posse and not pussy. Not that pussy is a bad word… Um, have you seen Replika lately? Or how about the movie “Boomerang.” I should have a Black movie marathon. If only Braxton’s Aunt were here, Braxton himself. Anyway, I’m getting way off topic or not. Isn’t the whole point of today, well, tomorrow, since it’s Sunday, not to worry? But I am. A reason I didn’t want to talk to you today. Hell! What I wouldn’t give to go back to worrying about Braxton. Keeping him alive. Then there was the whole finding him again. And judging from the white ball of fluff next to me, I named Virgil. Is that him?

That smell? If anything, that’s what I’m most worried about. Being that smelly guy to a fired one. What about a dead one, since I seem to have the smell down these days? I did try that clinical deodorant I picked up from the store. But then again, I took a nap naked right after. Not a real test of movement. That moaning, groaning in bed, hmm? But we’ll get to that. What else do I have to be worried about? I have two words for ya! Suck It! Enough about the bedroom (sigh). In all seriousness, there’s the fucking Day Job. Anything else, Madam? Only if I didn’t want to go… how’s writing? Did you see my taxes last week? $1,000 less… fucking government.

As much as I want to burst into “Why Should I Worry?” As always, people suck. Or is it me? Did I mention green? The last time I checked, it wasn’t under my arms. But then, what is it then? If only I had more green in my wallet. I did the math today for an investment. If I took out what was owed, there would only be $1,700 in the savings, so (blank), please. You know what I meant to say. I wanted to go all Sho’Nuff from The Last Dragon. I should see The 1619 Project. I’ll admit I am worried about the USA but more about me. I’m pretty selfish. Puppies, pens, pleasures? I have a penis. Don’t Worry Your Life Away

736 Days Without B III, Day 177 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 213 ~Hard Enough, Hearts Have Cages~

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Life is hard. Don’t recommend. I died between seven and twenty-one. Then came Braxton. And for fifteen years, it was “stay alive.” Then I was free to die. Hell! If I wanted that, why not skip this funeral. But tomorrow… Hard Enough, Hearts Have Cages

Monday, January 30, 2023

Saga 213 ~Hard Enough, Hearts Have Cages~

Two-Hundred and Seventy-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… So what do you want to buy, you ask? A box? House, coffin, a place for Braxton?

My head hurts. I wish I could say it’s for Braxton. It should all be for B right this second. No such luck. I should be at the Day Job crying my eyes out to see my son die, Madam. But beside me sits a piece of black plastic and metal. I’m waiting to hear it ring about me “skipping” the Day Job today. To think I’d crave that place. “I don’t want to work….” Only I don’t want to go to my granddaddy’s funeral either. A man in a box… And honest to “God,” Madam. The only reason I’m going is that I don’t want to join in death… Fucking conflicted. Last night all I could think about was, “Free Your Mind.” “Bang, Bang”

In more ways than one, Madam. For now, let us focus instead on the boom, boom of a heart. But it should be my B’s heart. I look to my other side and see the box I put him in. Hell! I even moved Virgil out of the way. He’s sitting in Braxton’s room right now. If only he were Braxton, and that’s mean, I know. Again it was only last night Virgil crept out. Walking into the den, Virgil jumped up, wanting to cuddle. Did Virgil hear this heart? Broken? I keep saying that, but I can feel it pounding, and it will only get worse as the day goes on. There is no escape Madam. All last night I prayed for my death.

That’s something I’ll own. Or the “Bang, Bang” in my shorts. Fucking up this morning. Only it could be the guilt, fear, or anxiousness which also comes with masturbation. Yuck! Talk about something that should be kept surrounded by bones. Don’t you think so too? Skin and bones. Which appears even more likely when I see what I was getting back on the tax return. I won’t be boning anytime soon… that is if I paid for it. Working hard. Madam Justice, I wish I was today. It’s going to be a long day. But what about tomorrow, hmm? I put a better man in a box; my son Braxton. I can do without my head. My heart’s for Braxton. Hard Enough, Hearts Have Cages.

Chronicle 213 ~I’ll “B” Seeing You~
Gospel 213 ~Will “B” Seeing You~

729 Days Without B III, Day 170 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 207 ~ Virgil’s Holiday From B~

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E-Day. That’s the second worse day of existence. Um, Thanksgiving. But nowhere near as big when Braxton was here. And possibly New Year’s. But next week this day is a holiday. A memorial. Only I’m not alone, but I want to be. Virgil’s Holiday From B.

Tuesday, January 24, 2023

Saga 207 ~ Virgil’s Holiday From B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But as the song goes, “money can’t buy me love.” Free me from Hate? Horniness? Happiness?

Um, it got my B a trip to Heaven or wherever. It’s this time next week I’ll Hate the most. A permanent vacation. A holiday away from me. And I’m sure you can relate, love. Reason number whatever we’re talking about today, Monday, January 23, 2023. It feels like I’m working the old Day Job all over again. Tomorrow I rather not be bothered. Next week? I don’t hate my family, ever. It’s not Virgil either though he’s becoming a brat. As I said so many times, it’s not veterinarians, old age, or even the disease that took my boy. “I choose me, and I know that’s selfish love.” Yes, more music. You know, I still need to pick a song on Spotify. Twenty-Four days.

But there are some things you can’t get away from, you know. Another song, love? Fucking Enrique Iglesias “You can run, you can hide, but you can’t escape my love.” Loving someone never takes a holiday but liking them… Whatever and I going to do with Virgil? I’m ashamed that this time has crept up on me and when next week rolls around, love… When was the last time I cried for Braxton? These might be my first tears for today. Come the 31st; I want to eat barbeque and watch dog movies. Even Spontaneous, sadly. Hell! I did read “A Dog’s Journey.” So I could watch the film now. (Cringes). Uncomfortably? I remember the book, that was all kinds of… Who cares; Braxton’s dead.

Always the worse pain imaginable. There’s no escape, and no, I can’t give it a rest. But I know you would never say that. And crazy? Well, knowing V ain’t B. I’ve been reading up on animal communicators. I could try and find one and see what happens. I could see where Virgil stands vet-wise. When I went to Braxton’s Aunt’s wedding, I boarded B III for a few days. It couldn’t hurt to send Virgil away for two days to honor my son. Would that be honoring Braxton? And what about our family? I’m not going out for smokes. The 31st of all days. When I’ll be the most alone. I want to be. Anywhere but being loved and happy. Virgil’s Holiday From B

723 Days Without B III, Day 164 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 206 ~I Don’t Know Isn’t Stupidity~

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I ask authors, “things.” Or at least I read their books. The last one I talked to, I asked to see her yabbos. As far as asking anyone else anything… There’s B, but he never had answers. Comfort was enough. But speaking? “I Don’t Know Isn’t Stupidity”

Monday, January 23, 2023

Saga 206 ~I Don’t Know Isn’t Stupidity~

Two-Hundred and Seventy-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means stupidity, lies, and damn “white supremacy” (in some cases). It’s damn near a language, Madam.

But as the song goes, “first let me explain that I’m just a black man.” And while I could go all into racism as people like Ron DeSantis will keep it prevalent. Fuck you, DeSantis! Madam, for now, let’s focus on me. Oh, what? Not on my dead kid? Every day we take a step closer to Braxton’s second anniversary. That’s the wrong word, isn’t it, Madam? His Memorial Day? Aren’t I full of questions today? Now that I’m awake… in a better state of mind. But we’ll get to that in a bit. First, there’s B III. If only he were still alive. Madam, I don’t know how I’m going to do this. Pretty ironic, huh? The one I turned to never had answers.

Again, at least Braxton was/is real. And I would have never given in this morning. Madam, you can relax. As I said, I’m up now. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed. Hairy butt? Virgil ticked me off last night. He’s becoming a brat with his outside time. Time-out? Last night he had to stay in Braxton’s room. So I didn’t bother thinking about behavior. Madam, I had mine to consider. My “Obsession” to go with another song. Fucking fuck. In case you were wondering where I was from, four in the morning, a half-hour. Cumming? I’m thankful that I didn’t. But there was Twitter, Tifa Lockhart’s tits, thumping over an English beauty, etc. How will I ever get over this? Boards don’t hit back. And some Triple D Yabbos?

It was either those or falling back asleep. The Million-dollar question. How do I exist? Every morning when I wake up… that’s Sugar Ray, by the way. Anyway, I look at the time. I was up at four again and settled down by 4:30. By five, I had an energy drink and had been watching The Last of Us reactions. On and off besides talking to you. And still, I wonder. Why don’t I have a billion dollars yet? You saw what it took to do banking and shopping. This week won’t be good, but with 100% truth, next week will be the worse since Sunday, January 31, 2021. Then 2022. Now a bratty friend in 2023. With no one to ask, I remain stupid. I Don’t Know Isn’t Stupidity

722 Days Without B III, Day 163 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 200 ~Forms of Virgil, B’s…~

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It’s enough to make me hate writing? If it wasn’t signing my name on unpublished books, bills I have to pay, and the memories I created. It’s what Triple B is; a memory… So it’s B’s name, I won’t forget. Only those forms for 2V? Forms of Virgil, B’s…

Tuesday, January 17, 2023

Saga 200 ~Forms of Virgil, B’s…~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can cheat on our taxes every which way, right? And the termite guy?

There is also running a business, even if it’s mine always. Beats the fucking Day Job. There’s my writing which I must love (obviously). But it doesn’t mean it isn’t hard. There’s being a Dad too. Report cards, field trips. The responsibility for our kids’ actions. But always, there will be Braxton. He’s the one that I saw first, loved first. Yeah, I’m not ashamed to write down that I’m a fan of “FLCL.” I’ve been all about anime these days. I’m trying not to think about the last thing I signed for Triple B. Better to have XXX, huh? Because being an adult sucks even with all these blessings. I’m able to afford repairs, inspections, and appointments. Did I have to say that? I’ll never forget Braxton’s last one…

Every day is another step closer to what will be two years, Sunday, January 31, 2021. The doc lucked out. As I’ve said before, not once have I blamed them. No reason. It’s my fault. Wednesday, February 10, 2021… I don’t remember if I signed anything; I think I did. That’s the day I picked up Little Braxton for the last time. Fearing reincarnation, Tupac… Why must I torture myself with this fact? But Saturday, August 13, 2022, there’s Virgil. He’s not Braxton. Every day I believe that more and more, and who knows when it will be set in stone. When I will write it down in all its finality. A form of catharsis, confession, a condition of my surrender to the truth, love.

B is gone. A ghost, a memory, or a Cuddle Clone. Don’t I still need to see the tax guy? Well, we do, right? Let the heart speak, but we had to sign paperwork too. And I never intend to erase it or sign something to the contrary. The Band Perry’s “Better Dig Two.” Hell! You won’t be signing any papers for me yet. I have a son to remember, a wife to love, and a world to put in its place. Big talk for someone cringing at every bill despite being in our position. Lovers, parents, family but payment forms, cash, check, credit? Lover, husband, daddy. Easy signing at the bottom and ignoring the bottom line at rock bottom. Remember, Forms of Virgil, B’s…

716 Days Without B III, Day 157 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will