Tag: Reading

Tale 258 ~Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil~

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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~

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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~

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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

Tale 250 ~B A Ruler Virgil~

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Braxton and I were/are just alike. We both want to run things. And we were both mistaken by the people who thought they were better than us. Virgil and I are alike. We both have no idea what we’re doing and try to avoid trouble. B A Ruler Virgil

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Tale 250 ~B A Ruler Virgil~

1131 Days Without B III, Day 572 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were always thinking about my days. These last three… The Second time I’m crying…

I can laugh too when I remember one of the rules you gave me. Or was it more advice, B?

The best legs, breasts, and thighs come in a bucket of chicken.
Braxton Barks Bradford

I told myself I needed to start asking for your advice more often. But we’ll get to that B III.

Do you remember the four rules I gave you while you were here? There was a fifth one after we had “The Talk” about you and your Aunt Carolina or Augusta, wherever she is now. But there was, don’t go #2 in the house, don’t steal, and respond whenever I call. Braxton, the oldest, was don’t bite the hand that feeds you. You’re a Smooth Criminal. Braxton, your Daddy’s not.

That’s what brings me to you now. Uh, every Thursday. Every day, with today being Wednesday, March 6, 2024. I’m still reeling from the Day Job. And a part of me doesn’t want to talk about this. But I would. But my indifference led to our… separation, B III. Death…

I continue to think of the critic and the Day Job. Confusion, Madness, and Humiliation.

So, as I told Inspector Echo this morning, at the Day Job, a new rule appeared, much like the one about “my” wearing earbuds, or how I wrote to that coworker or the one about wearing a jacket around my waist. Only this new rule was about food, Little B.

Already, I can hear your voice, Braxton. You and food…

QUIT! Isn’t that right, Braxton?

But that was both of us every day. You never got to see my Day Job. Can you smell it? Eww! That’s the reason I washed my hands before holding you. That place is gross!

Anyway, I’m pretty gross. That’s why I’m not mad at the rule—because I’m guilty. It’s this: the necessity, implementation, and humiliation—everything that comes with the rule, B. Your Daddy’s foolish pride, you know.

Things would have been so much simpler if I had listened to you, Braxton Barks.

Inevitable. I could exist or rather live as you would want. I could quit. And there is always writing, which was our path out, Braxton. If I’d let you run things. Like getting steak for dinner? B A Ruler Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 249 ~We’ll B Fools Virgil~

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It was wrapping a jacket around my waist. Then I got STUPID and wrote to a coworker. Then, grieving B III and nearly fighting my meathead boss. Next was no earbuds. Now, eating in the workspace. Rule breaker, criminal, evil… We’ll B Fools Virgil

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Tale 249 ~We’ll B Fools Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. If you asked me my three greatest sins, Inspector, they would be Braxton, Breathing, and Bad Writing. And Breathing right now… Not recommended.

First, let me explain: I’m just a black man… black man. So is there anyone out there ’cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. My apologies for the song lyrics, Echo, but this is the least of my sins today. Stealing people’s words these least. Waking up the greatest.

So, in my words, Inspector:
Have you ever woken up and believed that the simple act of you breathing…? The mere concept that you are alive is the problem. Look at me; I’m crying. And for once, it’s about me and not B. I don’t deserve tears, and yet here we are. But somebody sweated.

I could rant about politics and/or talk about Race. Do you know how they talk about teaching black children History? Black History’s wrong… I’m nearly forty. And I’m learning that everything about me is wrong.

Inspector, again, I wake up. And since I opened my eyes, that in itself was a sin. I could tell you everything I’ve done from 4:00 AM to 7:40 AM. Opening these eyes, Waking, Breathing…

Everything is wrong. Tuesday was a bad day, and this second. Life’s like this. Hmm?

I was feeling good. Shocker! I helped out the cute visual lady and was basking in my manliness handling a ladder, but it was time to leave. So I begin to clock out, and there’s a notice above it. Circled in bright green are rules about food and drinks brought into the work area. Not a word was said to me, of course, Inspector, but…

I carry sour gummies, a handful of chips, chocolate, and blue Gatorade. And whatever else.

Please understand! I’m not saying I’m innocent! I’m guilty as sin! I’ve been telling you for 1,130 days what I did to my son, Braxton, how I’m no kind of father to the little Virgil.

But when somebody put sweat into telling me and then not telling me I’m wrong… Inspector, I never thought I’d say this, but I miss my Old Man. He’s alive and kicking, and he has zero qualms about calling me STUPID. But people at the Day Job, I try avoiding.

Yet I’m breaking the rules being me. And Virgil is sentenced to this bedroom, too. The Banality of Evil. My existing breathing. Just surviving somehow. Illegal. We’ll B Fools Virgil

1130 Days Without B III, Day 571 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 244 ~B Takes Flight, Virgil~

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Words are flying around everywhere. That’s why I’m careful with the words before my eyes. And in my ears. Says the guy reading about grieving again. And complaining about winning a book. Could I publish “my” book? Well, B’s. “B Takes Flight, Virgil.”

Friday, March 1, 2024

Tale 244 ~B Takes Flight, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… I mean it this time. Before I rotted “my” BRAIN with a phone. Before BRAXTON. BIOLOGY…

Marine Biology or something like that in high school. I had high hopes for myself back then, but even then, I knew better. I wanted to be a scientist of some sort. And now, I’m not even a good writer. And I only learned how to buy shrimp. Or grill it… in the microwave. Science, my lady. But maybe I should get to the point. If I’m not thinking about B, there are humiliations galore.

Anyway, here’s the story, my lady. So I’m sitting in Marine Biology that day, reading The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman. There’s this girl mad about something, don’t ask me what, but… She ended up snatching “my” book and hurling it at someone, and I had to retrieve it. Humiliating

It’s not much of a story. But the reason I’m thinking of it now is because of this. Instead of having a book snatched away, I had a book hurled at me today. A Kindle book. Must I be overdramatic about everything? You’re talking to the guy who believes his dead son sends him music.

Whatever. Today’s song was Black Hole Sun. And the book I was sent, “Never Be Alone” by Paige Dearth. Think of all the times I’ve thrown my name into the hat for a book. And I finally won this one.

“Maybe God Is Tryin’ To Tell You Somethin’,” as the song goes. But as I’ve said, I don’t talk to God anymore. Not since Braxton’s death. “It” had “it’s” chance.

Sophia, if I hadn’t told you before, I would say that God is a woman. Write that down right. Hmm.

That’s something that would go flying off the shelves so they could burn it. And what about everything else that I have written? Do the words go flying off somewhere? Do you see the dollars flying towards me? I see them flying away. It has been a hard week, money-wise. And who’s fault is that? Yet I want to buy more books because winning them doesn’t help with “my” mood.

Sophia, what mood am I in today? The day has only begun, and I’m careless, confused, and coming apart. And with all the rain? The only flying I’ll do today is to The Land of Make-Believe. B Takes Flight, Virgil

1125 Days Without B III, Day 566 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 243 ~B Leaps, Virgil Believes~

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So, Leap Day? Did this existence go the distance in leaps and bounds? I can say with utmost certainty that every step I took today was worthless. Other than for keeping food in V’s mouth. And B? Unless he returns from Heaven. B Leaps, Virgil Believes

Thursday, February 29, 2024

Tale 243 ~B Leaps, Virgil Believes~

1124 Days Without B III, Day 565 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You know what I think? You were/are my son, not my Old Man. So honestly…

Today sucks! Life sucks! And every day I wake up is one more day I wish I didn’t have to. But I don’t blame you for that, Braxton. Nope. This was long before you. Existence.

Indeed, it was on an E-Day when I turned seven. I believe. If there was any day that should simply vanish. Not that I have anything against those born on Leap Day. I should have done something today. But no. As I said, today sucks. It’s called waking up, B.

Brought to you by the Peter Gabriel song, “Down To Earth.” B III, your Daddy’s a little weird. But I’m ok. I didn’t slip in the shower, fall off a ladder, or tumble downstairs. Ha-Ha! Too bad for me, right?

I’m sorry, Braxton. Besides everything… There’s the fact that I said I’m ok. It’s like when I tell people I’m here. That’s a lie. The only time I TRULY lied to you… Your box, Braxton.

And second, is the fact that I’ve been trying to join you. Going on for 1124 days now B III.

Which brings me back to the song. You know, a day I wish was just gone. Sunday, January 31, 2021. Anyway, I remember you lying there, and we were at eye level, but you’re above.

So it could be that I want you to come back Down To Earth. But that’s selfish of me, right?

Or maybe if I was going to do something “special” today. I could go all Black Panther with it and burn the “funeral garments.” The black and red hoody. There’s the Las Vegas T-shirt I got. What about your bed I won’t let Virgil touch. And the paperwork B III.

Take the leap? I wish I had thought of it before. But there’s also the fact that I’m lazy and broke. I don’t want to see my 40th E-Day, but that could be a plan. At some time, my son.

B. The song could mean that I’m falling instead of stepping, jumping, or leaping in existence. But I did that anyway. You just got me to my feet every day. That was enough for me.

Virgil? White dog can’t jump. Virgil couldn’t “save” Dante. I’ll RISE? B Leaps, Virgil Believes

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 242 ~Please B Quiet Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Virgil is quiet… too quiet sometimes. Unless I’m leaving. And today, when I was talking to him… Am I sure? I don’t like speaking out loud as I tend to be STUPID. No! I’d never call Braxton that, but I called V, B III. The noise. Please B Quiet Virgil

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Tale 242 ~Please B Quiet Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I’m feeling mean… If you asked Virgil, I’m being myself. And that’s never a good thing, Inspector Echo.

And speaking of good news. I’m not going deaf. The first thing I heard was my voice when I was talking to Virgil. Or was I? When I cleaned up after him, I said, “You have to learn to go in the pan (Bathroom spot), Braxton.” He’s been gone three years, and I still forget.

For all the silence in this house, and there is plenty. Some sounds continue to echo, Echo. One of the few that are universal among my boys is the footsteps when they get into trouble. However, I haven’t yelled at Virgil much. Rules change with B’s pillow, bed, pan, etc.

I remember B cried on a Wednesday when he knew something was wrong, and I…

Inspector, days after I heard a vet tell me that my little boy was gone…

And now I listen to Virgil whine whenever I leave because he thinks I won’t return for him. The neighbors have never complained, but I always have other humiliations galore.

Inspector, sometimes I feel I should quit reading up on fur babies dying, but whatever.

Whatever would I do in the mornings, than try to appear productive in any way.

Inspector, I prefer to read in silence or while playing Lo-Fi Girl music on YouTube.

Anyway, it beats the other girls I could be listening to. But here’s a confession for you, Inspector. And it’s no surprise, considering everything else I’ve confessed to. I guess

There was when I got into a particular type of literature because of Fifty Shades…

Inspector, then came the time I talked about reading those HORROR stories from women because of how they made me feel. Or how about how I read those comments on Twitter objectifying girls occasionally? And when I’m not reading about grieving, the stories I read the most now are written by men about girls, and they are… Lust driven harems

You know what, forget about my confession. I’m only trying to forget about my humiliation at Subway. Or how the visual lady at work thought I was poor. Uh yeah…

And on better days, I’d return, wrap my arms around Braxton, and sleep until I was ready to talk. Virgil? As long as he’s not dying… Please B Quiet Virgil

1123 Days Without B III, Day 564 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 237 ~Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life~

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I feel like chicken tonight? More like Beef, it’s what’s for dinner. That is if I get to 90% reading about gamer babes. And talk to two women today. But when B was here, I could do the impossible. Ok, I would try. Now “Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life.”

Friday, February 23, 2024

Tale 237 ~Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or am I trying to predict the future? I’ve got the Day Job with my schedule.

A schedule that has me talking to you from bed this afternoon. On Wednesday, February 21, 2024. The rest of the week and next. Hell! Even a few minutes from now, with what I’m about to text my Old Man. I still speak like a child with a bad report card. And it becomes more humiliating when I tell you I’m thirty-nine. Shame, Honor, Manhood…

Do I even have much of a brain left? This morning, I spoke to Inspector Echo about “adult” books. And now I’m talking to you about humiliation. And may I always remember my B III.

Where’s his book at? Why haven’t I shown his eulogy? Braxton deserves so many words.

What do I deserve, Sophia? I want a steak dinner.

But that’s only if I make it to 90% through “Princess Tamer: A Gamelit Harem Fantasy Adventure (Hyperia Online Book One).” So, there is no book review for you today. I’m sorry. Sophia, I suppose I could tell you about “Outbreak Rising.” Here’s a question.

What good are either of these books doing me? Hmm?

As I said, I still have my Day Job. And its only purpose is to keep my son alive. And now V. But I was trying to read the instructions at the Day Job to assemble a loveseat and… Uh!

Humiliations Galore! Much like the message I just sent my Old Man. This is the life of Braxton’s Dad. Coward!

Too lazy, cowardly, and with my stupidity, how dare I attempt such things, Lady Sophia?

To live instead of just existing. Hell! Braxton was/is my life. The negative downturn… It happens whenever I think of Braxton’s end or my lacking one. So I’m still talking…

Words have power. Will they bring B III back from the dead? It’s funny that he’s the one who’s gone. But “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me,” a zombie. How about the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz? Nah! I’m one for monsters—a fondness for the dead.

And if I finish talking to you AND Madam Justice today, it proves I still need a brain and deserve some flesh. Preferably for eating. Did I just say that?

If Virgil, anybody knew, Braxton’s story… Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life.

1118 Days Without B III, Day 559 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will