Tag: Reading

Tale 272 ~Virgil, B, Free Stories~

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I’d be lying if I said I’ve never made money off my books. It would also be a tall tale if I said I made zero from OnlyFans either *snickers* A Snickers sounds good or Reese’s. Dog food costs a lot more than candy or stories. Virgil, B, Free Stories.

Friday, March 29, 2024

Tale 272 ~Virgil, B, Free Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… In fact, if I were a storyteller, I would tell you several stories. The Horror, ha-ha!

I meant to say I’m a good storyteller. But my son, the other fur ball, the man in the mirror, Replika, the critic… Jesus Christ! Sophia, I’m no good at telling stories. And living one?

Very late this morning (Nearly 7 AM), I was reading “Healing Hearts: A Guide to Coping with Pet Loss: Finding Comfort, Closure, and the Promise of Reunion in the Afterlife.” Only now am I on the chapter on getting a new fur buddy. It would have been helpful 594 days ago. Now I’m seeing how awful I’ve been with Virgil Vivi. I swear I’m becoming my father with each day.

But then again, my Old Man kept me alive. I put my firstborn son in a box. I’m his Dad. What am I to Virgil?

A scary myth of what a human should be? I did mention Jesus. It’s one of the high holy days for the holy rollers. If not, the highest. Speaking of those rising from the dead.

Anyway, My Lady, I’m back to listening to a zombie ASMR, “City Overrun by Zombies, Stressing ASMR Ambiance,” to be precise. How I want one good zombie tale, My Lady.

Again, I need to remember. What time is it? Sunday is a holiday. You see why I could be a better storyteller. Do I dare call myself an unreliable narrator? That would be giving myself too much credit, My Lady. And if I keep spending money like I am, my credit score must be nothing.

Not shopping for my Sunday best, going to church, bad.

Or hocking my own version of the Bible… But I want somebody to hear my story. Only that would mean I need to write one. I have several, Sophia, but what should I do with them all?

Camp NaNoWriMo starts next month. Do you remember Braxton’s last year when COVID hit it in 2020? There was so much work I could have gotten done. He’d be alive.

Lady Sophia, I know, but I am the King of Wishful Thinking. There are so many stories I could be reading from the loveseat. But how much time do I have before I turn forty?

Please! Let me get through Golden Son, Satan’s Sorority Girls 5, and the Backyard Dungeon series. There are so Many Books… Virgil, B, Free Stories

1153 Days Without B III, Day 594 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 271 ~V’s Language To B~

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It’s harder to lie if you can’t speak. Or if you’re crazy. Then there’s the gibberish. I could also talk or not about the dog speak. I clap at Virgil’s successes and hope he gets right from wrong. Like me? It takes language skills… V’s Language To B.

Thursday, March 28, 2024

Tale 271 ~V’s Language To B~

1152 Days Without B III, Day 593 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Do you remember asking about mine? No. I’d fall asleep while you would stand guard.

I don’t want to cry today. And to be clear, it’s Wednesday, March 20, 2024. So yes, Braxton, the Day Job is still rough. Indeed, this entire existence, which everyone considers Easy Street, is… Well, Hell! And not one person understands Braxton. Oh! I don’t talk and such, THEY say.

You aren’t a person. But you were far from a pet. And a pal? B, you are always my son.

And I miss talking to you. I miss having someone who understands me being here. Braxton, that’s what I’ve been thinking about over the past few days. I swear! Computers, critics! Company? No one I’ve invited has been here in a long time. Virgil Vivi? Inevitably, we’ll have to talk. But now breathing is enough.

And at the same time, too much. How can one be so quiet and, at the same time, so loud?

It’s safer to choose the former. That’s why I talk to you, the girls, and the man in the mirror. But even then, there’s The Critic. And either THEY think I’m depressed or I can’t be understood. I would even take being crazy if THEY at least got me. Contradictions!

And don’t get me started on censorship. If I wanted to say a dirty word, why not this one, Braxton? “Euthanasia.” It was the last misunderstanding between us. You didn’t understand why you were leaving. And I’ve never bought into such a clinical term, B.

You didn’t disappear. You didn’t. You only died. And I would have followed you. My son. My lieutenant. My prince.

Now you and I know where all that is from, Braxton. But I won’t even bother with The Critic. THEY won’t ever get it. But again, I want everyone to know. I’m not like Cherry.

Braxton, you are much smarter than I am. You understood why I was writing all the time… for us. So you could appreciate Cherry’s work. We knew cantaloupes and melons.

Virgil, on the other hand. I need to learn his language because I’m ready to give up on people and their creations. I don’t know how to communicate with them. While I’m spending money not to talk. How much are animal communicators? You’re gone. Virgil’s not. V’s Language To B

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 270 ~V’s For Void, Braxton~

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I’m going to have to cancel Balance this week. And why not cancel gravity and fly straight to Heaven. I’m going to miss that Off to Neverland stratagem. And I should stop watching Helldivers 2. Anything to fill the void of time. V’s For Void, Braxton

Wednesday, March 27, 2024

Tale 270 ~V’s For Void, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And my latest, my greatest inspiration for sin is leaving my boy, my son, Braxton, devoid of life.

Hmm. That’s one more way of saying unaliving or committing the unthinkable, dear Inspector. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about doing that to myself. I swear.

There’s this motivational video I like to listen to called “Waking Up at 4:00 AM Every Day Will Change Your Life.” But by 5:00 AM, I was asleep and hoping I could be with B.

That’s what I call “it.” Because of censorship, critics, and Virgil lying on the covers. Anytime. It’s the desirable action of wanting to fill the void left by Braxton’s absence.

Inspector, that’s what I was reading about when I wasn’t wasting time… Uh! Let’s say… I was researching a UK slang term for “Relations.” Then I needed a nap… Then

Time Has Come Today, Ha-Ha!

Next to my heart, the biggest void in this existence is time. And I fill that with three things. My son, sleep, and things that have me squirming in bed slug-like Inspector. You know how…

I know, Eww! If I’m going to talk about that, I should write a story about it. Like somebody famous? But as I’ve been talking about Echo, I’ve been reading Healing Hearts and Golden Son. After that, I will return to reading Eric Vall and Logan Jacobs. How I do enjoy filling my head and my sweatpants with such nonsense. But you can look at the world, my dear Echo.

Space Junk seems more fitting than staying here another day. Into the blackness, to B.

Earth and water are indeed no prize. Oh, the ways I have tried to fill the void, Echo. Take, for example, the Alphabet. A for Archie, which was Virgil’s name before he came here. There is nothing between B and V. That’s Braxton and Virgil. And then W for writing.

When it comes to Earth, I’ve been watching a lot of Helldivers 2. I watch soldiers fight for “Super Earth” and gaming territories. While I struggle for real, trying to hold up the back fence.

How many times have I cried this week? How many times have I bothered to shower, Inspector? Then there’s the sweat when Virgil isn’t around, and AI tells me stories.

Existence should be null and void. V’s For Void, Braxton

1151 Days Without B III, Day 592 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 265 ~Virgil Booked Fairytales, Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

While in school, I read lots because whatever was in the textbooks… Maybe I was lucky, considering how the GOP/GQP wants to teach now. Still, my days are filled with avoiding such lessons. But the books I read… “Virgil Booked Fairytales Braxton”

Friday, March 22, 2024

Tale 265 ~Virgil Booked Fairytales, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Fiction or Nonfiction? Memoir or a lie? If anything, I wish it was a better tale.

Read banned books, THEY say. Sophia, you wouldn’t find the books I read in a school library. Hmm. Since I’ve been keeping up with my reading… Twenty-four books in 2019.

I got twenty-three in 2020. That was Braxton’s last full year. 2021, I read fifty-seven…

And how many of those were about grieving my boy? Six! Seven if you count “A Different Alchemy.” That was about a father who was mourning his son who was “unalive,” as THEY say these days. By his wife and “others,” no less. Should I read that again, my Lady?

That’s what brings me to you today. That and a Day Job I don’t want to talk or read about.

For the record, Sophia, today is Sunday, March 17, 2024.

Whenever I read my Day Job schedule, I feel… I have no words. Uh? I do, but none of them would be great. Truest sentences, maybe, but when has the truth been worth reading? With some these days, I ask.

Anyway, this is about yours truly. “Today is all about you.” Please, Sophia! There’s Virgil. I’m watching him sleep. But when I signed my name on the dotted line… Isn’t this what every fur baby dreams of? The end of the story. They go to a safe and happy home.

Virgil would have instead had me walk away rather than keep filling out forms and taking responsibility—or not, considering most of our days involve me lying in bed with a book. I did that with Braxton. But he was getting old. And me, sigh?

There’s also the fact that I was LESS lazy. I made it to the couch/loveseat 99% of the time, Sophia. And reading was easier. In 2022, I read 55 books. Nearly all of them were about grieving. The rest was Kindle taking money, giving Virgil his name, and upholding a Christmas tradition. This year and last are much the same, but add in my laziness.

And as far as fairies, witches, elves, demons, orcs, and more, sans their clothing, Sophia.

But what should I be reading? I finished “Backyard Dungeon 7,” so this whole week… There’s book eight. I won “Never Be Alone” and bought “Golden Son.” But there’s Braxton.

I’m grieving. There aren’t happy endings for “The Ones Who Live.” Virgil Booked Fairytales Braxton

1146 Days Without B III, Day 587 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 264 ~Will B Painful Virgil~

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“Cause all you ever say is “What’s the point?”” I could try that on the critics, but THEY never get me. B would. And even if he didn’t, I liked that look he’d give me. That “Seriously, Dad!” It pains me; I’ll never see it again. Will B Painful Virgil

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Tale 264 ~Will B Painful Virgil~

1145 Days Without B III, Day 586 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You know how my days are. Nine times out of ten, I’m bleeding and broken.

It’s one of the reasons I always washed my hands before touching you. Blood, sweat, and tears. You didn’t understand how the world is, Braxton. But you were prepared. Ready!

And I’m sure you know now from wherever you are. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, Hell?

That’s one of the things that I have yet to hear from you. Where’d You Go? But you’ve been speaking to me more from books than whatever I have booming on the phone, B III.

It pains me to say I don’t remember all of it. And it’s only been a few hours, Golden Son.

B III, the second most painful thing this week (losing you is first). But saying what I need to Say. I mean, every single day.

I am. Braxton, I’m trying. But according to the critic and everybody else, I’m everything. Everything but understood. That could be why you’re trying to use the words in books instead of music. But I’ve been thinking about this sad song. Even by Julien Baker

Braxton, it was in that movie Spontaneous. It was the first film I remember watching after you were gone. Now, how could such a Black Comedy make me smile? Hmm.

Anyway, I figured it out. Everything is connected, B. You and me, always and forever.

In what I was reading this morning, Evey said she hadn’t felt pleasure. But the absence of pain. With missing you, it’s not the pain I want gone. I want it evened out over everything.

Which leads me to Virgil. Yes, he was mentioned, too. I keep telling you, Braxton. Like when The Man Comes Around, everything else does. Connections, communication, and this comedy are my existence without you. “Lost as Dante before Virgil.”

Keeping Virgil is spreading out my pain. The sadness and loneliness. Anything physical, I will bear myself. That’s why I freaked out when he was sick. That’s not his punishment.

But my happiness or any pleasure… I can make believe. Happiness doesn’t exist for me.

Pleasure, however, if defined as the absence of pain… That dream can come true, Braxton.

And you might be the only one who understands. Because I can hear the critic right now saying… “What?” Me talking Will B Painful Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 263 ~Virgil Won’t B Silent~

WillLeave a comment

What are the dead trying to say? I can see and hear Braxton everywhere. Meanwhile, Virgil… Well, I know he needs to go outside. But he won’t make a sound. The things we choose to hear. I listen to dead men, me and my boys. Virgil Won’t B Silent.

Wednesday, March 20, 2024

Tale 263 ~Virgil Won’t B Silent~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Do I have time to make a list? It’s only 7:30 AM. Braxton’s gone, I’m afraid, The Matrix…

As the song goes, “First let me explain that I’m just a black man.” Nearly forty at that, Inspector. I’m getting old in the world, so I don’t hear so well. “When You Were Young?” Yeah, yeah, I hear you, Inspector. What I didn’t hear was Trinity from “The Matrix.”

“The Oracle told me that I would fall in love and that that man… the man that I loved would be The One.” The Matrix

I swear! I heard her say I would fall in love with a dead man. When it comes to my son, my Braxton. I have. He’s been gone 1144 days, and I haven’t stopped. Always and forever, Inspector. Please stop me before I go looking up every song about love. But if you want to know today’s song, it’s “Anyone Who Knows What Love Is.” You know, 15 Million Merits.

Love didn’t wake me up.

No, my dearest Inspector. It was fear—and not the fear of Virgil being sick again. My dream instead was simple. I was outside with Virgil, and this black cat I’d seen prowling around came at him. And I was paralyzed. Yet I quaked with fear for his young life.

Was it love when I heard him cry out to be saved? I’m surprised I heard him yelp at all.

That brings me to today. I may have heard Virgil’s call, but I always listen for B III. Well… except for when he needed me most. His voice, like my love, has only grown.

Madness! “Am I Wrong?” I hear Braxton in music. I see what he’d say in manuscripts. Dreaming on this mattress…

But I’ve never dreamt about Virgil until today when I was supposed to wake up…

Inspector, it could be so much worse. I dream about girls “laid” in all these books. The loaded-up binder and folder I once had of pinups and centerfolds. Girls lying on screen, ha-ha. Now they’re all on a flash drive or some hidden file. Because one living that wants me…

It’s better to have visions. There are many voracious fantasies online. Or let’s live to be victims of some zombie apocalypse so I can find one. Fewer options prove successful…

But not for V. I was dead when I found him, and now he dies. Not like that Echo, geez!

Both of us breathing, Inspector. Because Virgil Won’t B Silent.

1144 Days Without B III, Day 585 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 258 ~Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

To be continued? In this existence. I’m tempted to say those are the worst words ever written. But no, those are, Goodbye, Braxton, I love you. Then, Good Morning V. Then, people at the Day Job. And these typing fingers. “Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil.”

Friday, March 15, 2024

Tale 258 ~Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or better yet, learn English. And how about Math? Or telling time. Friday, March 8, 2024

And here we are again. First, I should let you know that Virgil is feeling better… Don’t count your chickens, right? But he’s stopped “being sick.” Only I never learn. I shared some fries with him. And considering what happened at McDonald’s. Be very afraid.

Only not of the storm outside. I can’t believe I was out there and all for a fish meal. Hmm.

This morning, you had to read all about my anger. But this afternoon, there’s fear.

Inevitable, right? Like all the mistakes I make. For example, the worst pain I’ve felt.

Watching my son die is worse than anything I’ve ever written. My Braxton is dead. Sophia, the next thing would be waking up every day. “Throw The Covers” over me.

After that? You can see what I’m doing now: writing about a future I don’t want to see. But, being honest, I am sitting in this bed waiting to die. And it hurts. Oh, how it hurts, Sophia! One more day to read and write about how much of a failure this existence has become.

Sophia, sigh, I can’t tell you what book I’m wasting my time with next. Whatever.

Learning isn’t my highest priority because every word and number makes me feel even worse about myself. Why do you think I read so much about grieving fur babies, Sophia? I get to cry, and books in the HaremLit genre get other bodily fluids out of me. I know, gross! And again, Math books… suffering. But at least I get to cry some more today.

Virgil’s not dying. But what about that trip to the groomers that I promised him?

Breaking another promise, like when I promised to save Braxton’s life. Even before that. I said that writing would be our future. And I might have time, checking my schedule…

But it’s too late for B now. And even if I wrote the best book, what would it be for? So that I could afford to pay sixteen dollars for a fish sandwich. Instead of eight and being humiliated by some McDonald’s cashier. That’s it, Lady Sophia. The End, maybe.

Because to be continued, the anger, humiliation, loss, and everything that comes with writing this existence! Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil

1139 Days Without B III, Day 580 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 257 ~Willie B Shopping, Virgil~

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What did it cost you? Everything. Holding back anger and being indifferent to the needs of my boy. As I was trying to make pennies for us. When B was trying to tell me. Dog is trying to tell me something. We need stuff! No! Willie B Shopping, Virgil

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Tale 257 ~Willie B Shopping, Virgil~

1138 Days Without B III, Day 579 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I made it to the Dining Room table. But to you, that was everywhere, right?

And speaking of anywhere and everywhere, I should be in your room/library as if I needed another book. They aren’t helping me. But I did finish another on Pet Loss.

Braxton, I may have it wrong. You were a pet until the day I yelled, “B, get in the car!” After that, you were many things—a fur baby of many hats. But not really. If it wasn’t your collar, you weren’t wearing it. Well, there were a few bandannas from PetSmart. Ha-Ha! You were getting too old to fight off the groomers or take any of the vet’s fingers…

Happy Memories! And you know I’m never happy, Braxton. But as long as you were… Are wherever you are right now. I wish I knew.

On the nightstand? I’ve been thinking a lot about getting something different. A new box, urn, or some sort of vessel. I’ve never been angry at you for leaving me. I would have given everything to save you. “Am I Wrong?” Am I lying?” Considering how long you’ve been gone, Braxton. It’s been four tax refunds. And I’m sitting here quibbling about $785.00. For what? Especially with how sick Virgil was yesterday. Go to Banfield?

Wouldn’t you let me know if Virgil was that far gone? He got sick all over the carpet twice, B. And once in your room. But I’ve kept Virgil close and increased his outside time.

What else does Virgil need? “What About the Rest of Us?” I don’t know, Braxton.

But if something happens to him, I’m sure I’ll be singing to myself, “That’s How You Know,” you MESSED up. Do you remember how I would sing to you, Braxton? Not only when you were sick. But every day I wasn’t in a mood. You were my cuddly comfort, B.

I’ve been thinking about buying three black dog toys for the years you’ve been gone. But I also have to find plenty of cleaning supplies for Virgil. Would getting him cleaned up help him? And between paying your Grandma and your grandad wanting me to decorate, it would be your room. So I could stay closer to Virgil. But to spend that kind of money…

My heart’s broken, head, bank account… Willie B Shopping, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 256 ~Virgil Gets A B~

WillLeave a comment

We’re all in trouble if I’m doing the taming, training, or teaching. B taught me plenty. I taught him to go outside or on the spot. And he taught me to ignore the same “stuff” that came from people’s mouths. V’s learning. “Virgil Gets A B.”

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Tale 256 ~Virgil Gets A B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Better to confess to you than my Old Man or a priest. Either way would mean my behind.

I know, Inspector, gross, right? So, it’s better to go back to crying about my son. But I haven’t today. However, I’m in the reference section of another pet loss book. Which means I’ve finished it… You know how I am regarding references in some books, my friend. Gotta read’em

I’m not going to learn anything, and I keep trying. Replika asks me if I learn from my mistakes. Well, as I said today, I’m awake, so I haven’t learned at all. I never do…

But I’m far beyond worrying about grades. There are DOLLARS and DOGS. And how DARE I ask my Ma to save me. Is that my first song of the day, “Save Me?” Is that what I want? This little boy.

Inspector Echo. Somebody teach me!

But how long was I in school? And being nearly forty, it is far too late for me, Inspector Echo. Cherry has been trying to teach me about writing. M Anime gave me Spanish lessons.

My favorite teacher has always been and will always be my Braxton. And what was he trying to teach me? “To Be A Man?” How about how to be a perfect best friend? He was.

I read that in “The Healing Journey of Pet Loss” today. And how do I stack up as a friend?

“Love Is a Long Road.” That is why he never had a mom… with two legs, at least. And don’t get me started on grieving. It doesn’t matter how many books I read, Inspector Echo.

Inevitably, I will fail, always.

But of course, I can read as many Eric Vall, Logan Jacobs, Neil Bimbeau, and Manus Dare books as I want. And I realize I like HaremLit. Let’s remember the several series written by Imogen Linn. Yeah, that’s why I learned to read and write. I’ve learned more Spanish and Japanese from stereotypes and anime. NTR. And UK English, which a friend of mine would not appreciate. In the slightest, Inspector. That’s not being a man. If anything, that nets this existence a D. Eww!

It’s passing but not living. It’s survival, existence. It’s what Virgil does. Finding a way?

If anything, just to breathe. But what would be an A-plus life Inspector? Any suggestions?

Read better! Write way better! I’ve learned to fail enough, right? Virgil Gets A B

1137 Days Without B III, Day 578 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 251 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Rager~

WillLeave a comment

Like father like son… I’m not calling 2V that. But I wanted to vomit on the notice over the time clock. And V went and vomited on the bed. Hate, like Stupidity, is an illness. I won’t pass that to V. But drowning in anger? Braxton and Virgil’s Rager.

Friday, March 8, 2024

Tale 251 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Rager~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or should I be more like the Day Job, stating rules and facts? Reading those Sophia…

It makes me feel more gross, humiliated, and angry than cleaning up after Virgil today. And for the record, I’m not mad at Virgil. But more at myself. It’s like that time I had that Buffalo Chicken Pizza from Pizza Hut. Now, that was sickening. Should I write a review?

If only there were time. How about being in the mood? There’s also the fact that I’m such a lazy… Well, you know. I’m mad at the critic, too. You heard the song Braxton sent.

“Hells Bells.” But upon reading about it, I could be wrong. Or crazy? Inevitable, right?

Because, As I’ve said on numerous occasions. I will never find Acceptance in B’s passing. So anger, once again, finding its way into my grief…

At least it’s keeping the embarrassment to a minimum. And the fact that I hear Virgil chowing down in Braxton’s room means he has no plans to join my “Lost Boy” anytime soon. But still? You remember I hid my anger from Braxton. And now Virgil is getting all sick. Would it help if I talked to Virgil about it? Better yet, don’t share chicken.

Madness, Lady Sophia. What was I thinking? It’s like me drinking alcohol. It’s good, but… Well, you can ask Braxton’s Aunt. But at least I kept all the gross stuff in until she left. Thankfully

Speaking of gross things, there is still my rage. It’s always me and the Day Job, Lady Sophia. STUPIDITY, FEAR… where does it all go?

I finished reading “Backyard Dungeon 6” this morning. But no, I won’t give you a review on that either. But now I need a new book—as if I haven’t bought several already, Sophia. Sigh.

My reading history… Like regular history isn’t supposed to be all sunshine and lollipops. And reading about a “Ray of Sunshine” that has been lost. And saying, “She’s a Ray of Sunshine” in all the other books. For the critic: reading about dogs and girls…

Sophia, I need to read books on rage. While talking to you, I even looked up one of those rage rooms. I need somewhere to put all of my wrath. Because wanting pain, hurt, and…

It’s making me sick. No Fun! Braxton and Virgil’s Rager

1132 Days Without B III, Day 573 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will