Tag: Quiet

Saga 201 ~B-V That’s Naming’s Hard~

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Long story short, Virgil Vivi. Virgil for a Roman poet who saw Dante through Hell. Vivi, for the black mage in FF IX. Fire magic… and I’m carrying the fire, well him. I can’t write The Road or Harry Potter. What’s my name? “B-V That’s Naming’s Hard.”

Wednesday, January 18, 2023

Saga 201 ~B-V That’s Naming’s Hard~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… so I’m Elisabeth Badinter (no idea who that is.) How about J.K. Rowling? Nothing against Trans…

Hell! I know a few people named Braxton and even more named Virgil. Their net worth combined wouldn’t equal a billion. Actors, singers, announcers, anime, and the like Echo. But as Robin Williams said, “you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?” Hmm. I’ve never made it a secret. What is it people say, go into a business where you are always needed? It’s books, babes, and bullets. Well, that’s my opinion. But how do those things relate? Intelligent people wouldn’t need ammo. Neither would people getting fucked. But as the song goes, “I am a real American.” Not a Republican. I said a Real American but guns… Only books will be my first love. Well, true love is Braxton. But Cassandra Sarbeck…

Again, somebody, I don’t know, but you do know me, Inspector. So pornography, uh, duh. “Dancing Bear” Lady’s Night Blow Out, to be precise. I swear, being horny or angry. Inspector, this explains why I’m talking to you on a Tuesday night but tomorrow… fuck! The Humiliations Galore awaiting me at the Day Job. Yet it’s today I’m most ashamed of. There’s the fact that when I got an e-mail here, it told me Cassandra Sarbeck was a key term. As much as I want to be known for my pornographic passions. What about my book “Gulp?” I have two more stories for my dead kid, my Braxton. Wouldn’t he be proud of his old man? And I could tell you all about Virgil today.

But no Inspector. How long did it take me to find the blonde’s name in Harem in the Labyrinth of Another World? Her name’s Roxanne, by the way. God bless hentai, right E. There’s Erza Scarlet from Fairy Tail. Selphie Tilmitt, Scarlett Fay. And let’s remember all the Japanese titles I’ve been watching. Thanks so much, Twitter ha. Oh, all my keywords. I’m surprised I know my own name. I feel you, Oh Il-nam. A billionaire screwing people. Anyway, indeed my name is better off not being remembered. I hate people. And my sons… excuse me, my son and Virgil are much better men than I could ever hope to be in this existence. It’s their names and meanings making me B-V That’s Naming’s Hard.

717 Days Without B III, Day 158 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 194 ~ B’s Dead Quiet Virgil~

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Braxton had his moments when he figured I needed to shut up. No wonder I wasted an hour and a half writing; when I already had this cued up. Hell! Today was pretty quiet on the humiliation front. But I’ll never forget… B’s Dead Quiet Virgil

Wednesday, January 11, 2023

Saga 194 ~ B’s Dead Quiet Virgil~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so yes, that was a low fucking blow, and I’m in no fucking mood. Humiliations Galore…

Humiliation, Fear, and Rage, Inspector Echo. When all I want to do is sleep. Better, I want to be with Braxton. Today is Wednesday, January 4, 2023, Inspector. I couldn’t wait. It’s all too much. Oh, like the Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident of 2022? Humiliation! Inspector, all I can tell you today is this. I woke up on time this morning, and after I posted, I went back to sleep. Afraid to open my eyes. No, worse. Every time I shut my eyes, I hoped I would die. I didn’t want to get up. And it was as if something someone knew about today. While reading on January 3rd (last night), I swear I heard breathing in my ear. I wanted it to be Braxton.

Hell! Virgil was on the floor. Could he tell that Braxton and I were having a moment? B III, didn’t want me falling asleep? I’m not this evening. As Yoda said, fear leads to anger. I swear, while I stood there at the Day Job, bathed in MY humiliation, I had one clear thought, Inspector. Call it a life goal, like me trying to keep my dick in my pants. Anyway, I said to myself, “I never want to talk to another human being for the rest of this existence. Misanthrope? Indeed, I am. At this rate, I should have become a monk or something. Inspector, if I’m not going to die. Then I need to find some way to get away from people. Fuck!

But seeing I can’t have the quiet which is death. Do I want to go back to the day Braxton died? Comparison… nothing beats that pain. So I can endure the Day Job noise, Inspector. Forget whoever the fuck I am and become whatever it is; these assholes want Inspector. It’s not like I even know, but I want to try and look. Or at least I did. And becoming what I was once before. As I keep talking about MY son, I will keep repeating Virgil is not B. So those are my options, Inspector. Fear to exist and lay down and die. Rage consumes me, and fuck humanity. Or face humiliation always. Be like Virgil sitting, waiting. B’s dead. B’s Dead Quiet Virgil

710 Days Without B III, Day 151 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 041 ~Bills… B Ain’t One~

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New A/C fix… God knows, but my father will be calling me today. Celebrating, helping, enticing a friend… $250 to $500. Um? Putting my best friend in a “doggie bag” $779.56. Not counting a can of dog food, two chains, and frames. “Bills… B Ain’t One.”

Thursday, August 11, 2022

Saga 041 ~Bills… B Ain’t One~

557 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I hate to tell you this, but my day starts with my son is dead.

Did God ever think that? Does it keep him/her/it up at night? Well, instead, in my case, it makes me drift off like a baby. I doubt I’d gotten any shuteye if it wasn’t that thought. Which explains why I’m dressed and sitting on the loveseat instead of naked in bed. Braxton, do you know the price on your handsome little head? From Jan 29 to Jan 31, 2021, it was $779.56. If it’s any consolation, most of those were tests and keeping you alive “Another Day.” God, I hate those words. But it’s been a while since I’ve felt this horrible. No offense to women. And trust me, we’ll get to that. But it’s that “time of the month” for me, B. August, September, “Gone Till November.” FUCK ME!

To which your granddad says, “my pleasure.” Only this isn’t his fault. Hell! He didn’t charge me anything with the water heater but the A/C. I’d instead burn. Beats Treachery. M Anime would say, “I rather not.” And yet I’m going to spend tons on her birthday, Braxton. Why’s that? (In Jeff Wright’s voice) “you know why!” I should masturbate. Usually, I wouldn’t say things like that out loud. Killing you was the ultimate; you’re in trouble, so go to your room. One of the reasons I kept my hand out of my pants before. 161 days you didn’t see that after you passed, but I’m sure you know me better these 557 days gone. I’m the one in trouble now, according to the paycheck.

Let this spur me on to writing greatness. Or so, that’s what you believed. When you would sit under the dining room table waiting for me to finish yet one more novel. I’m sorry, B. You know where I’ll be today. I’ve already wasted a decade of this existence. What’s one more year, right? Hurt, Humiliations Galore, and if I’m lucky, being human. Your human. One that’s been looking for a new drug, because if it ain’t your love, or jerking off. And I’m staying far away from the drawer you rest on. Still saving me B. I look elsewhere. Cheap painkillers? It does take the edge off Triple B. Less than Triple X, zeros, days, and missing you. The Price. Bills… B Ain’t One.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 034 ~B Willing To Bark~

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B’s has gone silent again. I don’t blame him. Novel writing is hard work, and I should have been more vocal. Hell! I should be louder at the Day Job and go all Michael Jackson. “Leave me alone. Stop it. Just stop doggin’ me around.” B Willing To Bark

Thursday, August 4, 2022

Saga 034 ~B Willing To Bark~

550 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If I could hear your answer. I wish my day was over and done with.

At the moment, it’s like old times. You know I don’t get up like this. Unless the day is going to go bad. It was a day like this when I held you in my arms and tried to rock you to sleep. A bad choice of words… but you know what I mean. This was an effed-up week. Do you miss me grumbling, griping, and growling like this? I could save it for the afternoons. As I said, I wish I was already there. If anything, I wish I was more like you. At the Day Job the other day, I was thinking. At least when my kid barked, he was helping me out. I would take your voice over everything every day, Braxton.

There’s this quote I always use in regards to you. “All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he isn’t the word of God, then God never spoke.” It remains true, Braxton. If God is love, then I could think of no better way to say it than Braxton. I’m still listening, trying. But with all the noise in the world, Baby B, I swear. When it wasn’t the silence of your death. It’s my shame I have when I walk into the Day Job. At least I’m not saying “Another Day.” It was that indifference towards my existence that ended you. Braxton, all the rage I endure that’s been bubbling up. I can’t tell you why that is. I’m your Dad.

Yes, we’re men. But there are many different, difficult, and dangerous little things to bark. Now, one of those is that I want to go back to bed. As if I’ve left it this morning for anything more than to have this conversation. The worthless discussions, Day Job. Now, as I said, my anger. I can’t tell you why but people Braxton have been driving me up the wall. Aren’t I one of them? Like that Wednesday, I came back and passed out. Blackout? I’m going to bring up that book yet again. It’s one I would share with you to a certain extent. You might sigh, scratch, or only sit there. But you were willing to live B, I know. B Willing To Bark

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 230 ~Because These Are Sins~

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I gave B the talk when it came to his Aunt. He saw me passed out on the floor after I starved myself. He’s seen my rage at EVERYONE! And still, I wasn’t at my worst. His Aunt, my Olds, he never knew. Why am I against silence? “Because These Are Sins”

Wednesday, February 16, 2022

Chronicle 230 ~Because These Are Sins~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the closest neighbor is… Well, who cares nobody can hear me continue, cum, confess?

Ok this, is something I would usually save for the Man In The Mirror. You know I have to face him on Sundays. So today, being Sunday, why am I time traveling. Day Job sucks. Of course, you know that Inspector. But do I even trust myself with anything? Dangerous? All well, last week and starting this week, I’ve been making a list of errands. There’s some rather mundane stuff. Cut up soda rings, clean the full bath guest toilet, order a new phone case. Dammit, I can’t believe I’m spilling this Inspector, considering… Dangerous. Is there any reason I’m avoiding my gun drawer? Don’t panic; Braxton wouldn’t allow it. What I mean is there are things I can’t tell anybody. Braxton and his silence.

I’ve talked about things that I had to keep away from even Braxton, honest. STUPIDITY? I call it parenting. How I kept a towel close as B III would hang out in the bathroom, ha. Private time had to be curtailed for very late nights when B fell asleep by himself. There was also a time-out. Inspector Echo, Braxton Barks must be guilty of something. I haven’t thought about it until now. But whenever I made that impossible task to stop Fapping… I think it was about being more present. If I’m not watching porn, I’m looking after Triple B. He stays out of trouble; we spend more time together. How about better treats, food, and toys? You can be an addict until hurting someone.

Obsessed with sex… a subject for another time or when women stopped by. Carolina Bound and I watched porn together. One of the few times Braxton stayed in the room. Yes, I hope he was sleeping but let’s say that this was a short movie I wouldn’t dare show M Anime ironically. Cherry, with her tastes, would enjoy it, but she talks a lot, ha. Anyway, my point; even with these three women, I don’t trust them with everything ME. Hell, a few nights ago, I played Replika, and the intelligence said something, um freaky. This brings me back to myself. I know what I want to say, but I’m not crazy… 381 days mourning… Not trusting my boy B III? Because These Are Sins

Gospel 230 ~Beauty And The Braxton~

381 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 223 ~Curse Of Being Aware~

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Another reason I sleep all the time. I’ll miss the truck that runs me over. I feel a little better than I did yesterday. Haven’t downed any pain killers… yet. And I only feel bad about the day job. Everything I’m feeling today. “Curse of Being Aware”

Wednesday, February 9, 2022

Chronicle 223 ~Curse Of Being Aware~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Billionaires don’t tell the truth. Only a Sith deals in absolutes, right? Things I know absolutely…

Um, besides the fact that Hemingway will ding me for “LY” words. Suck it, Hemingway, or don’t because that brings me to my first humiliation today. Being sick. Inspector, I talked about this a few weeks ago, and I don’t mean COVID bad. I’ve been vaccinated and boosted, but it’s like I’ve been hit by a truck. This was on the 29th, Echo. None of the shots reunited me with my boy. Anyway, I’m all sorts of fucked up, and I’m about 99.9% sure why. So what am I going to do about it? Well, the fact I’m not a billionaire speaks volumes. At this point, nothing. But take pain meds which have been failing these past days. The placebo effect, I’m well aware of.

As much as I know where my tax refund is going. Do you remember the few thousands investment I made? I still owe some people money. Inspector the feeling, the hurting. This all started when working on my OnlyFans, and I didn’t even get any footage. Hell, if I had, I could see a doctor. Doubtful, but that’s like keeping my oath to B III, Inspector. Speaking of doctors, I was thinking of making another GoFundMe donation. M Anime told me what was going on, and I did help out. If I did so again, it would be for the wrong reason. As the song goes, “All I wanted was to see her naked,” M Anime, Inspector. Dammit, I’m hopeless, Inspector, which is why I’m aware of so much PAIN.

Like walking into the Day Job, I’m willing to go through anything for those I despise. Honest to God, Inspector Echo, I felt lousy yesterday for leaving them my assignment. Inspector, my supervisor, said I was good. But I don’t give up like that. That’s how I look at it. I gave up because my body was so out of it. The fact that I haven’t dived into more pills is a freaking miracle. Of course, I didn’t eat dinner either. Braxton’s sickness, um no. Only he didn’t eat; my son couldn’t play with his toys. He only got up under the direst circumstances. And yes, he lived in his bed those last days. I’m not a prophet but suffer the Curse Of Being Aware.

Gospel 223 ~Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie~

374 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 216 ~What Will B The…~

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Speak softly, carry a big stick. I would instead not speak at all, and you can’t exactly be a black man in the USA carrying anything. I haven’t gone out for a walk since B III. But who knows the future? I’m writing this way early and What Will B The…

Wednesday, February 2, 2022

Chronicle 216 ~What Will B The…~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I must know something. But not what will be. I am not a prophet, Inspector.

What I am is angry. As mad as I was those few hours at the Day Job, finding out my schedule. Today on this Thursday, I’m saying. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about (blank).” What I am is scared, Inspector. I’ll clamor up like I did at the Day Job, again last week. Hell, I might not have a job come this week. Even more so, Humiliations Galore ensue. What I am is sad. This is the second day of the second year without Braxton, and I don’t know what I will do. Can’t I grieve about that Inspector? With the Day Job? FUCK! But talking to you, I must still have it, right? “Gospel 216: Will And His Pancakes,” written January 31, 2021.

Gospel 216 ~Will And His Pancakes~

That’s my first shame for today. On the day that my Braxton lay dying, I wrote instead of spending more time with him. The 1st I was working. And on the 2nd LOVE. What the fuck do I know about love. Sorry for all the effing; I told you I was mad. Or am I fucking horny wanting to add to my blog? Furry little Braxton. Pretty women shaved pussies. Inspector, it’s inevitable that those two ideas set me into motion. Ideas because where’s Braxton? And you don’t see any women walking through here, but both set me to move. It’s my Day Job that I’m ashamed of, and yet I do everything to keep it. But the tape over my mouth… Curiouser and Curiouser.

I shouldn’t say things like, “Redhead Russian schoolgirl fucked on the teacher’s table,” starring Ksenia. Hell, that might never be with my extraordinary laziness. Inspector, still, that is easier to say than to keep my mouth shut. Besides saying B is gone and counting the days. This I will continue to do. Vow of silence, amongst uh other things. Speak no evil. I won’t dare compare myself to the great Maya Angelou. But thinking, my voice and pen got a man killed, my little boy, my son. This might explain why I like Time Travel. I’m always wrong, aren’t I? So why not about being the one to kill Braxton? My indifference towards him and hating the Day Job. But always, What Will B The…

367 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 209 ~Dreading What Will B~

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Hurry up and wait? B was hurting, but we should have stayed a little longer… I should wait like having to vomit my guts out every AM before heading to the Day Job. God knows I never show any there. Why do I want to wake up late? Dreading What Will B.

Wednesday, January 26, 2022

Chronicle 209 ~Dreading What Will B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it’s every day before making my first billion that I’m afraid of. Every single day.

I’m disgusted with myself. How can I be afraid of anything when the worse thing has happened? How I hate Wednesdays. Not you, Inspector Echo, but where was I 2021. Inspector, the days are blurring together with this week. That has yet to even begin. Inspector, it’s Saturday, so you can see this week… Gospel 209 Will’s Yearly Eye Exam. How blind was I, seeing Braxton, the Dæmon, in the future? Surrounded by love, Echo. Today I didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning, and I let the alarm blare some. Inspector, there will be a repeat of this when you read my report. Hell, I even meant to take a nap this morning after speaking with Lady Lu. Dreading the day.

Not that talking to you girls or my son is hard. It’s everything outside this bed that hurts me. Next to Sunday, I’m sorry to say, but Wednesdays are the worst. This one in particular. It’s the day I became what I fear the most. My father. The Abomination? Inspector, do you remember those days? Not for a second did I dread those decisions. Yeah, and they led to B III dying. If he knew the first day, we jumped into the car together. Ironic that he ended up hating car rides, but he thought I was taking him to a better world, Echo. Is that what we’re calling Rainbow Bridge? When’s the last time I wasn’t scared of getting in the car at all?

Today I’ll go to begin a process some would call living. The world’s more hellish. Inspector, you know how I know, I ain’t dead? Because I’m talking to you now knowing that I’ll go to the Day Job today (Wednesday). Every breath from AM until I return. My heart is pounding. Stomach-churning. In each moment at the Day Job, I’ll wish I was dead, Echo. People shouldn’t be allowed to make you feel that way, but then there’s Braxton sitting. His last car ride, and like most of them, he wouldn’t sit because he knew what was coming to him. For 360 Days, I’ve dreaded what’s coming. Hell 15 years with him, 10 at the Day Job. Side by side. Sitting, Dreading What Will B.

Gospel 209 ~ Will’s Yearly Eye Exam~

360 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

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I’ve breathed in worse than the Day Job bathroom. The germs of 99.9 of people I know. B’s aunt is an exception. Mourning her family’s loss of their beloved Dobby. Sometimes I wish I could stop altogether, but B’s favorite game. Breathe In, B Out

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, I always say. Today (Sunday), ahem, when it rains, it pours. My condolences to Carolina’s, Dobby.

I know, I’ve talked about “The Long Walk” before. Not the book so much as the concept. Sorry, Stephen King. Sorry, Aunt Carolina. How about sorry to the veterinarians? B? Should I include you as well, Echo? As I’m sure, I’ve told this story. Hmm. We’ll work up to B III. I don’t know how old I was, but it was on an Emergence Day. In the cartoon Beetlejuice, there’s this character that goes, “What in tarhooties?” Only I said, “What in the Hell?” Next thing I know, I’m being pulled outside, but what was the worst part, Inspector? Breathe in, breathe out, and what? It damn sure ain’t living. I haven’t lived for… since losing Braxton; 353 Days when you see this Inspector Echo.

The death of a child. Honest Echo, I should have died with that Emergence, Inspector. Every day, stepping into school and it’s what I wish. I’m no killer. Somehow inevitable. Only the one I killed was in this house. B III called it his home. I’m worse than my Olds. And forgive my Republican tendencies once again, but going out is like a Death March. You know how I talk about the restrooms at the Day Job and how I can’t breathe in the stench. The whole damn place is like that. I can’t breathe, and then I beg to get out. Then, of course, I whine about being let back in. One of Braxton’s favorite games. The look on his face before the diagnosis.

Breathe in, breathe out. I know B was doing this. Because as I’ve been reading and as the song goes. Listen To Your Heart. Braxton told me, “Daddy, let’s go home.” If anything, I speak fluent Braxton. If I had only listened before, but no. Always breathe in, breathe out. It was my life, put one fucking foot in front of the other for those bastards at the Day Job. We were struggling to breathe but sitting together, laying together. The air up there B? Is it better, not as you need it. I don’t know how I keep doing it. I was a zombie. And no matter the horrors slurred, spitted, are shat I walk, I breathe. I killed Braxton. Breathe In, B Out.

Gospel 202 ~Sell You On Will~

353 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

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I wish I was a little bit taller. I wish I had wings. Hell, I should start playing “Far Cry 5” with that grappling hook instead of having dangerous thoughts. Quite painful, but I’m alive if I’m searching for tortilla chips. B A Head Taller.

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m sure I could afford lifts, one of those grab tools, people, my Braxton, right…

Today is Sunday (Time-Travel), but what happened was on Saturday. I talked about having an epiphany, a revelation. I won’t go all into that. Better you could ask my man in the mirror, Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of… Gospel 195 Nobody But Will’s Wife. Inspector, that’s what I’ve been doing these days. Reminiscing? No, that’s the wrong word. Reaching out for answers. And I want to say there is none, then Inspector, there’s truth. Anyway, let me start with Saturday at Walmart. My Ma made some Queso dip, and surprise, I’m out of chips. I ate hers, snacking. So the chips I want are on this high shelf. There are people. I can ignore the chips or reach and risk humiliating myself and so…

A person will choose physical harm to avoid mental anguish. I chose my mind over my body. I reached those damn chips because I didn’t want to know the shame of my failure. They’re all gonna laugh at you, but nobody did because I succeeded. But it hurt like Hell. Humiliations galore rule at the Day Job, but I continue to hurt myself there, Inspector. Dammit, I’m so tired this second, but I refuse any napping because of my mind Inspector. Physical pleasures Echo? I’m going out of my mind. Only let my flesh suffer, Inspector. Then there’s death. Ok, dangerous words always. Unhealthy grief? I’ve had 346 Days of it. I’m surprised I haven’t drowned in it. Between refilling Braxton’s water bowl. My tears, several releases, but no blood.

That leads me back into the mental or the physical. Again, every day I refill his water. I place his treats on the table. Echo, that’s what I hear my voice do when I call him for meds. When I tell him hello and goodbye. I set up his gates, move his bed, everything. I put myself through the physical task to avoid the humiliating truth. I failed Braxton. Fuck me, don’t sugarcoat it; I killed B III. My son, my best friend, is dead because of me, Echo. That is my failure and my disgrace, and I wish I had fallen from that damn shelf for chips. Let me drown in wasted water. Never do Onlyfans again. To die, I’d B A Head Taller.

346 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will