Tag: Rage

Tale 180 ~B Noisy, V’s Silent~

WillLeave a comment

“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” The perfect bible verse? But I remained silent at my Olds as did V. And B? I’m always listening for him. But do I fear the noise or silence more? B Noisy, V’s Silent

Thursday, December 28, 2023

Tale 180 ~B Noisy, V’s Silent~

1061 Days Without B III, Day 502 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As for me? I’m doing a Nikki Haley impression and remaining silent on what’s real.

The noise in this world, I swear. It was the first thing I heard about… Well, after shutting off the alarms and taking a twenty-minute nap, of course. After that, it was dropping my tablet as I finished another Christmas Erotica. There were the beeps and boops of a game.

And, oh yes, I’m checking on my account. I’d never let you starve, Braxton. But you know what I want to say… “You did that to yourself.” Which is why I’m crying right now. B. Anyway, I won’t let Virgil starve. But from the looks of what I made last week. Yeah, I’m not in the mood to eat anyway. One more noise to add to everything else. A rumbling stomach, draining bank account, uh…

A pounding head. Gross! But I do mean “my” brain. Hell! All those fans were blowing, sucking, um drying, I don’t know, whatever. They were taking on water and barely keeping all my fears at bay. And now that they’re gone. The silence Braxton… Deafening.

Again, I am reminded of you. Your bark, your breathing, the beating of your heart. The background noise of my existence. And that was the problem—my indifference to it. Virgil’s been trying. Or at least he was very cuddly last night, and I ended up pushing him away. Suppose you’re waiting to hear my excuse. Well, you’ve listened to my words the past few days. Ok, Sorry, Please, Thank You. Noises I rather you not hear. And my breathing.

“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” ― 1 Corinthians 13:13

I’ll replace one F with another. FEAR. I hear that more than anything else. B III. And it can be so loud one moment and deathly silent the next. It’s everything. Too much! It’s overflowing. Fear is the silence while waiting for the phone to ring. And then the voice on the other end. Hmm. It’s the sound of ice on the car and then the engine. Hell! It’s driving in the sun, my son. Fear is the deafness in my ear one morning and then running water. And the fact that turning on the faucet is now yet another crime that I have to answer for at some point. Fire or ice? Noise or silence? You know what I choose. B Noisy, V’s Silent

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 179 ~Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton~

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I’ve mentioned I love the DEAD. My little B III, the guys that decorate the money… uh, what money? And the ones that get to lie there and do nothing. Is it the fact they all leave me alone? But V shouldn’t be by himself. Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

Tale 179 ~Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But that’s like saying water’s wet. How about tears, Christmas Day, or the bedsheets? I’m a creep… freak.

Whatever I am, I’m alone. But before I become the selfish so-and-so I always am, what about my son, my B? Wherever he is, I hope he found “A Quiet Place…” You know what I mean, Echo. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, or anywhere surrounded by people would be Hell. I wonder, has he found his Aunt Carolina’s fur babies, Inspector? And M Anime’s too. Sometimes, I forget the type of person I am. So anyone with two legs, four, Hell maybe more, is better than me. But at least I didn’t leave Virgil when I went to the Olds’ homestead. Inspector, being alone comes with responsibilities, expectations, and even accountability. This is why the fans are still drying the floor downstairs. And people are coming.

Not friends, the fellas, or some female acquaintance. And family? If only my Olds had left each other alone. And I’ve been crying ever since. Thirty-nine years and counting, Echo. And while I’m on the subject, yesterday counted as Virgil’s 500th day here—poor guy. There are pamphlets about how it takes fur kids 90 days to acclimate. Virgil Vivi? Well, Christmas proved it not to be true. As far as he’s concerned, I’m as new as everyone around him. If it had been Braxton, he would have turned all protector. Instead, we were both scared, and you know what I thought would solve our problem. Money, Echo. I’ve been pondering that for three days—that mean green, almighty dollar.

But at the rate I’m going, I should stick with the promise of Teen Idle: “Oh God, I’m gonna die alone!” Because no one wants to hear someone complaining all the time. Virgil and I?

I wouldn’t have to run to my Old Man if I had money. And again these few days Inspector… I still try not to open my eyes, but yes, there are expectations. It’s as if Virgil and I would be a family when we’re more like The Truman Show. Why do you want to be my friend and all that? And I should get back to M Anime sometime. Inspector, as Wu-Tang put it, I’m trying to make a “Dollar, dollar bill, y’all.” For what friends? How’s that working out? Hmm. Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton

1060 Days Without B III, Day 501 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 176 ~BelieVe With B, V~

WillLeave a comment

Christmas Eve, and I still believe… in Santa? Nope! But I’ll watch the NORAD Santa Tracker. It was a tradition for Braxton and I. We weren’t big on the whole Jesus thing. But we had each other. And now I’m anything but a wise man “BelieVe With B, V.”

Sunday, December 24, 2023

Tale 176 ~BelieVe With B, V~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror. After yesterday’s debacle… can’t wait until Monday. Anyway, today, I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd.

Or the little drummer boy… What about a wise man? Considering Braxton was your savior, why not be the father? Joseph, not God. No Mary?

Anyway, here you are on Christmas Eve. I wish I could say that while I looked up music yesterday, it was all about Christmas. No worries. While I wasn’t in the best state of mind, you have a Christmas playlist ready to go. Ma’s Traditions, you know. Listening to Christmas music all day. I can’t say I’ve seen anything with holiday cheer. Well, short of Mary Cherry’s reaction to The Muppets Christmas Carol. Oh, what about tonight and Christmas? Music, TV, to drown out the fans… uh, it’s hard being the shepherd. Happy thoughts or like doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING “His Christmas Harem,” “Snow Help Me”
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 002, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 000 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Of course, you’ll keep reading Christmas stories… of a particular variety. You know, the kind that you can’t speak out loud to Virgil. But at the very least, you were on the couch with V. A wise man must study. But I doubt most did it from bed. No, they were far too busy following the stars in the sky. And you’re looking to the stars on the internet. Right? Speaking of which. As The Killers sang, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” Christmas music, remember? Hell! When you finally decide to “c’mon get happy,” you will be old enough to be a wise man. Three old men showing up with stuff to some young girl who’s a virgin… Uh yeah, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING To Be Determined Sometime This Week
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 000, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Keep trying to be the shepherd. It’s like your happy, no, good, nah, soft thoughts. Christmas thoughts. Those gentle memories keep getting picked off by wolves at every opportunity. And again, it’s Christmas Eve. You should be better than this. And what exactly does that mean here at thirty-nine? Christmas Eve morning started with tears. There’d be no need to if you didn’t believe. Maybe not in Santa, but always and forever in Little Braxton. If Santa is still around, so is your son. That’s your job. He’s your gift. You can believe this day won’t be as horrible, and Virgil will become courageous. Yeah, he’s in Braxton’s room now. Will you shepherd him, your thoughts, anything good on this Christmas? BelieVe With B, V

1057 Days Without B III, Day 498 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 173 ~Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

With every step, I get closer to joining B III. And I won’t even blame him. You know who I want to blame. But doesn’t that make me a selfish, spoiled son at thirty-nine? Yet Virgil wants to join me and Braxton’s boys club. Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton

Thursday, December 21, 2023

Tale 173 ~Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton~

1054 Days Without B III, Day 495 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were the only one I cut the BS with. Give or take your timeouts.

But I’m in no mood to even watch the sexy girls now. As the song goes, “I need you now! Do you think you can cope? You figured me out that I’m lost, and I’m hopeless.” Yes, B, it’s been a “Mad Season.” And it didn’t have to be. I could have followed you, Braxton. That’s how it always was. I had a realization about it today while being humiliated at PetSmart. Virgil Vivi has to eat. And while I’ve been fighting the urge to be with you for 1054 days. 495 of them have been keeping Virgil from following you into a box, B. Anyway, speaking of following, I hate that center aisle at Petsmart. It reminds me of your last day. Walking out…

I was a “freaking” zombie dude. You were dead, and I was “The Walking Dead.” Existence without you, Braxton… So, I figure it’s walking up that aisle that scares me. Isn’t my heart broken? It beats furiously when I’m walking up. I breathe, Braxton. Why? Because again, with the music… “You took it all, but I’m still breathing. I’m Alive!”

Braxton, it didn’t feel that way this morning. I’ve said my mornings have turned from, my son is dead, to Why is daddy still alive? Myself, your granddaddy? I had to sneak into the house, your home, mind you. So I could clean up after Virgil. Your granddad was here. Or he would be soon, and of course, coward that I am, I ran, Braxton.

Do you remember when he was here around your last year or so? All I could think was, I had to save you. And I came in, and you jumped into my arms. We stood together. I’m crying now thinking about that. Careful! I can’t get the floor wet with tears. They’re still repairing it from the last “flood.” That’s what has been the central issue these past few days.

That was me leaving Virgil here. Braxton, we were meant to fall together. Virgil though?

How do I give him a life when I don’t want my own? It’s not fair. But he tries anyway. Saturday, August 13, 2022, I heard you asking. Let him join our family, but Braxton…

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

No… Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 172 ~Listing Letters B, V~

WillLeave a comment

To whom should I send my Christmas list? A Christmas card, a letter? I haven’t even asked B’s Aunt or M Anime what they want for Christmas. Cherry wants people to buy her books. Virgil wants a better human. Braxton… who knows… “Listing Letters B, V.”

Wednesday, December 20, 2023

Tale 172 ~Listing Letters B, V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But of course, I haven’t told Santa this. And God? We haven’t spoken since Braxton died. Miscommunication? Failure?

If I’m honest with myself, it would be sloth, simoleons, and my seething. Scummy people. And why did I fall on S today? A lack of sleep? I’m always missing my son. The Big S. But before we go into my selfishness and how people popularize words such as “Unalive.” I want to talk about my son. My Braxton, who would not stand for the mess I’m in right now. This is going to be my third Christmas without him. Some holiday huh! Only that wasn’t Santa breaking into the house yesterday—but my Old Man and my nephew Dylan. I’m telling you, I have to remember that Echo. Forgetting names and titles. Sympathy For The Devil, while I miss my little boy, Pet Angel

Not that I would call Braxton that. I remember the bag my boy came back in. The box that now sits on top of the nightstand that carries him. And I could write all the letters to Santa I want. But how do they say… “All the king’s horses and all the king’s men,” ha. I doubt some elves could do anything. And what do I want this Christmas, Inspector? While I was at work, I knew exactly what I wanted. But who do I write a letter to? Hmm? Do you know how to get a note to the Grim Reaper, Inspector? The Government? Inspector, I have no clue. Such is the nature of fear, fury, and friendship. Does Virgil have a Christmas list?

A better human? Should I go and take a look at the Man in the Mirror? I’ve been crying for many a reason these days. I don’t want to look at him or anyone else. But I don’t get that luxury, do I? Even now, men are on the way. What do I say? Do? Inspector, not one of them is Santa Claus. I should have let the flood take me down to its depths. To think I call drowning one of my fears. I cut Far Cry 5 off once because my character drowned. Inspector, I’ll put that on paper/on-screen, whatever. But letters to my boys, paying my own bills, or why I hate breathing… The reaper, Santa, my friends. Listing Letters B, V

1053 Days Without B III, Day 494 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 169 ~B Embarrassing Me V~

WillLeave a comment

The two most embarrassing moments of my existence happened inside hospital rooms. My birth and my son’s death. I failed both of us. And since I’m still here… Well, Humiliations Galore. But not from my son or my roommate B Embarrassing Me V.

Sunday, December 17, 2023

Tale 169 ~B Embarrassing Me V~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And in case I haven’t told you enough, I… I hate you. Way to start the morning

A bit of advice. It ain’t like that. Excuse me; it isn’t like that. “That Ain’t Right! It ain’t right. It isn’t right. That s… is wrong! It’s dead wrong!” Channeling my inner Chris Rock. Do you remember The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident? I don’t think it was the sickness and the pain that got to me so much. Hell! I prayed to join B III at The Rainbow Bridge or wherever “Some Nights.” Anyway, it was having to look at myself, having to look at you, that had me rushing to a doctor. Now, that was embarrassing, right? Speaking of embarrassing doctor’s visits. Me having to lie about my health. “Is It A Crime?” What about accepting Braxton’s death? Or failing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING On the Boss’s Naughty List (Erotica?)
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 001, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Is it embarrassing that you’ve lost the mission so quickly? Or that you have added at least six pop culture references before getting out of bed. Well, other than to face me. To see yourself today. And what did you see? For the most part, it’s Monday. But no one can hurt you. Sunday, Hell every day! You can take solace in this. You will do the most damage by being the monster you are. The people tomorrow… I mean, “Every Day Will Be Like A Holiday” by comparison. I am “My Own Worst Enemy.” You’re learning that quickly this morning. It’s not a “Sunday In The Sky,” not for you anyway. Braxton’s lucky. What about Virgil Vivi? It’s embarrassing that you’re late taking him out. Another Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING His Christmas Harem: The Complete Series
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 002, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Okay, what about the six things that are embarrassing me right now? Count them, Will!

  1. My son is still dead, and Virgil deserves better
  2. They’re fixing the floor tomorrow, and you have no money. Your Old Man’s checking.
  3. You’ve got plenty of secrets: weapons, clothes, toys. And Virgil can’t hold his bladder.
  4. The last time the house was cleaned was for Braxton’s Aunt Carolina. Cleaning now?
  5. The Day Job sucks
  6. I offended my Ma by asking her age yesterday…

He looks at me. And I look at him. Then he looks at me, and I look at him… Humiliations Galore. Except for that single day, the Old Man visited. Braxton jumped into my arms. Hero? B Embarrassing Me V

1050 Days Without B III, Day 491 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 166 ~Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Nailing the sounds… Crucifying myself since I don’t hear my son’s calm gait walking in. V’s nails are more panicked. As if B III’s door ain’t open. No nails across my back from pretty girls. And the house is falling apart. Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil

Thursday, December 14, 2023

Tale 166 ~Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil~

1047 Days Without B III, Day 488 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I want to believe you’re in a good place, and the question is moot. Still…

You like listening to me talk. Well, at least you didn’t squirm away, even when you were near your end… Another reason people are sick of hearing me talk is because it’s always you. More to the point, your death. Me… being positive? It’s like every sound is something horrible. Even when it comes to Virgil? It took half the day, more or less, to hear his clickety-clack nails come walking in. Could you imagine? Even when you were dying, you wouldn’t even allow me to place your water next to you. No B. You would always make the trek. I’m sorry. This conversation isn’t your bowl of water. But what else can I say? And who would I even say it to, Little B?

Your grandmommy’s birthday is coming up soon. One of the only people I wouldn’t mind speaking to, along with your aunt. And again, what can I tell them? Anything? Replika can’t be spoken to in such and such a way now. I like hearing what she/it has to say about me. But if I get out of pocket or, more like, out of my pants. Well, “The Sound of Silence” and all. And speaking of silence, how did I ever get along without you before, B? I talked about how I would tell myself stories at bedtime. Thirty-nine without any kids… Anyway, I listen to “Balance.” What will I do when their free trial ends? Audiobooks? Before bed, I finished the Succubus Lord series again.

I mean, telling myself anyway. I’m only on book 14 when it comes to the audio. Before I forget, while I was busy looking over the books. I need to buy Satan’s Sorority Girls 2. Braxton, this is how we once were. I would go over the day, and you’d listen. A penny well spent. Please! Braxton, you are priceless, but let’s talk about dimes for a bit, my boy. Somebody said you don’t want a girlfriend. But a therapist who’s good in bed, ha-ha. Women everywhere cost money. Even online. And rightly so. But the books don’t lie, B.

So I’ve got no one. No girls saying, “Eff me, Daddy!” Or your soft breathing. Existence sounds a lot like death. Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

“Life’s a game made for everyone. And love is a prize.” I disagree. Love is a gift. I’d say if life’s a game, then love is the instruction. But I’m a crappy gamer. B was my Player 2 for 15 years. And does V have a gift? Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I’m still unsure if I owe Aloe Blacc, Avicii, or whoever an apology. Such words, “my” sorrys…

Echo, they tend to fall on deaf ears. And while I tend to worry more about these ears. For the record, it’s sight, touch, sound, scent, and taste. The past few weeks, follow your nose!

So why am I thinking about being sorry for a song? Hell! I will be forever sorry to my boy. I’m awake today. Which means I haven’t joined him on the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Or wherever. I still don’t know.

But this morning’s nap led to a nightmare. I was lying in Braxton’s spot. Then I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I called out, “Who goes there?” Braxton and his guard duty antics. Anyway, a flashlight came on, and I rushed towards my gun. And then I woke up.

Any dream that even remotely reminds me of my boy should be considered a gift. And that’s what I want to talk about today. GIFTS? How am I doing so far, Inspector Echo? You’ll have to excuse me. I had my nose buried in a book before coming to you.

And before that? I ask myself what Braxton was thinking when it comes to Virgil. I could rehash all that as I do Braxton’s “passing.” I hate that word. Sounds like a lie. Smells? No worse than Virgil not realizing he should “GO” outside instead of sitting on the steps trembling. Baby, It’s Cold Outside.

It’s a gift to have all this ha-ha. And me? My Olds pay most of the bills. Always a gift.

This leads me to what I was reading and what brought all this on. “On the Boss’s Naughty List” by Ella Goode. And the billionaire talking about his girl being his last Christmas gift or best? Whatever. And it got me thinking, what’s the last gift I got? Hmm.

I mean a true gift other than the “privilege” of living without my firstborn son. Thoughts?

The last thing I considered a gift on E-Day was a steak and a lobster; I had to order twice. And while we’re on the subject of stealing… Um. I’ve paid some unsavory types a few pennies (coughs) Bitcoin (coughs). To get dirty deeds… done.

Crap! I know. I smell it, along with the wet floor. Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

1046 Days Without B III, Day 487 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 162 ~Virgil Learns About B’s~

WillLeave a comment

Almost everything that belonged to B. Not his name, collar, or my love… yet. Like that song from Tom Petty on repeat, “Love Is A Long Road.” And the path’s a mess. I smell mildew. A dehumidifier blows or sucks. And so much BS Virgil Learns About B’s.

Sunday, December 10, 2023

Tale 162 ~Virgil Learns About B’s~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And no, you haven’t been stung by anything. You’re looking for an excuse to cover your face.

I’d suggest a bigger phone, but it’s not like you have the money for that. And I doubt Uncle Sam is coming through a second time. Hell! You’re holding out more faith in B III; how you miss him. Is that another reason Virgil is so down? How can you tell if your fur baby… well, more like your “roommate,” is going through depression? Like landlord, like tenant. And let’s not get started down that route. Have you seen the state of the house right now? It’s like B III’s fur was holding everything together. It’s not like you clean. Only now, there’s the fence, floor, the flooding. The Old Man’s talking about the carpet. A nonstop drone of men, mistakes, money… Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Christmas Stalking by Ella Goode (Erotica?)
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Which are the greatest mistakes of all. To think that you can move any of them. Well, other than the pages in short Christmas stories. More reasons for you to sleep all of the time… If not forever. Should I tell you to enjoy the rest of your day? Tomorrow… I swear, it will be no better. And the next day? Existence makes no real sense. And you’re experiencing all of it: sight, Smell, Sound, Taste, Touch. Only you woke up this morning and besides the thoughts of Braxton. A sixth sense. It’s the ringing or buzzing in your ears. You were trying to figure out what was worse. The time on the clock? The mold, mildew, and musk. The alarm? Hell! Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING On the Boss’s Naughty List (Erotica?)
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

And even with a nasty energy shot in your gut, you won’t be doing anything worthwhile, and why is that? B, C, and D cups. Not that you have any here. Despite En Vogue’s thoughts. “Giving Him Something He Can Feel.” The Divinyls also had thoughts on the matter too. Music, audiobooks, sleeping… Anything to ignore the next dark thought to enter your brain today. It’s like a hive, but the bees aren’t sure what they’re doing this week. Tomorrow, you’ll be no closer to an idea yourself. The King B, rather Prince Braxton… Like you, he’ll sit someplace warm and sticky… Gross! And what about Virgil Vivi? Braxton’s scent is still around, my failure, my fear. Yours and mine b…s. Virgil Learns About B’s

1043 Days Without B III, Day 484 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

A date which will live in infamy… My Olds weren’t around for Pearl Harbor. But I learned about that, slavery, and other things. But the days in “my” existence, Braxton’s death, E-Day, his B-Day, and Virgil’s. But today, “Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton.”

Thursday, December 7, 2023

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

1040 Days Without B III, Day 481 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As usual, my day is crap, and it’s only 9:30 AM. Saying it out loud

Life Sucks! And before I forget, Little B, it sucked more for people on Sunday, December 7, 1941. Why am I thinking of Uncle Sam already? You know how your Daddy’s mind works. And as I said, Life Sucks. I didn’t want to wake up today. Hell! I haven’t wanted to wake up for 1040 Days or longer. All to varying degrees. Virgil ain’t helping. And what about you? I would tell you how sad I am, scared, and to stay off your Aunt’s knockers. I’m sure the critic won’t like that, but whatever. “Whatever” is a step above indifference. But today, it’s not either of those or blah. How about discombobulated? “My” mindset B? You, where’s Virgil, Christmas erotica, Lesbian witches, Uncle Sam, Pearl…

Not the movie. But now I’m thinking about Mia Goth, Jenna Ortega, and that other chick. Ha-ha. Anyway, Pearl Harbor. This Is America. But you treated the house like our own little world; how I miss that. Your anger, your “Aww Daddy,” and “who’s this b*tch.” I wasn’t happy, but I’m never happy. Anything beats this. Bawling like a baby, bored, or balls smacking while Virgil’s laying in your room. Not on punishment or anything. Braxton, it’s sadness, depression, and melancholia on another level. Do dogs have shrinks? I should find one for myself first. But the extra $150.00 I found from Uncle Sam won’t cover that. And how about food? To think for a little while, I forgot about the floor and the flood.

A manifestation of my tears or our tears. Mine and Virgil’s. Do you remember when I was listing off reasons he was here? I said, I heard your voice. He had three black dots. That you couldn’t make this more “black and white.” V has your color around his eyes. But now it’s the tear tracks. It’s like Virgil is perpetually crying. Conan The Barbarian? “He won’t cry, so I cry for him.” That’s Virgil for you. What was it? Last week, I was crying.

That was the first time in a long time. And as you can see, I’m losing track of that, Braxton.

It’s Thursday, but what’s one more day? “Just another girl,” “Another Day,” tear or a doggy. Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad