Tale 359 ~Feeling Good Is A Responsibility~

Money, Power, Women… Everything wouldn’t make me happy. Braxton couldn’t even do that. But he was better than most women. He made me want to be better. Why, it’s almost like being in love. Now it’s my “burden?” “Feeling Good Is A Responsibility”

Monday, June 24, 2024

Tale 359 ~Feeling Good Is A Responsibility~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… And those that aren’t, I don’t need to be reminded of. Like someone asking, how are you?

Give me my son back, and then we’ll talk. I mean, I haven’t washed Braxton’s bedding or favorite toy to this very day. I’ll need his DNA at some point. If this week works out. Oh! So I’m going to finish a book this week. Am I feeling okay, Madam. It’s been 1240 Days. And I continue to mourn my son’s euthanasia. Feeling Good? Oh No! The depth of my grief is the norm. And they say it’s no one’s responsibility to make you happy. It is yours. It’s mine…

So write the book and “go get the money, go get the money,” as the song goes. But that’s not living “my” purpose. Am I trying to sound like a motivational speech? How I wish.

But having money feels better.

Now, if I can’t get my son, Braxton, back, If I can’t feel the warm and fuzzies for little Virgil…

POWER! No one man should have all that power. And I don’t mean in a physical sense per se. Madam, there is literally another rule that talks about how money makes a man look. A man? Haven’t I been talking about manhood equating to fatherhood? And some of the men that I admire most… I don’t know if they have families of their own. Sigh.

When you spend the better part of the day looking up new adult starlets, you find out the men they’re with, too. To have a body like that? To make women like them, Madam… Uh…

Yearn, Yell, Yield… That’s power.

And Scarface said it best:

“In this country, you gotta make the money first. Then, when you get the money, you get the power. Then, when you get the power, then you get the women.”

I want to feel good, if only for a little while. But I need money to spend. And I am struggling to find the energy to stay awake today. But what wakes me up every day? Rather, how do I feel when I wake up in the morning? I check the foot of the bed for B. Then I check his bed. The longing for the past is a constant companion. My Braxton is gone!

And Virgil? Sometimes, he’s on ‘my’ bed. Other times, I have to set up the gate, and he sleeps in Braxton’s room. Which leaves me alone to what? I look for various distractions, like bigger and smaller Yabbos, to fill the void. I know. Eww!

But if I want to make the good feelings last… I must take responsibility. Had I done this before, I wouldn’t need any ACCEPTANCE. Braxton being gone? No! Never! But… Feeling Good Is A Responsibility.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1240 Days Without B III, Day 681 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 355 ~The Daily B, Virgil~

Extra, Extra! Read all about it! I have “Too Much Time on My Hands,” but I won’t be reading the paper. And how many books do I have left that I haven’t read? There’s so much editing to do. And writing about my sons, uh son? “The Daily B, Virgil”

Thursday, June 20, 2024

Tale 355 ~The Daily B, Virgil~

1236 Days Without B III, Day 677 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Didn’t I speak to you a few hours ago? Thursday, June 13, 2024, around 10:20?

I have all the time in the world for you now, B III. Well… until 4:55 PM. Rise and shine? I’m not that lazy… yet. But I’m trying to get Virgil onto a schedule. And I’m not trying to criticize him. But you were so much easier when it came to outside time. Age? Experience? That’s not a criticism of you, either. I’d bring McD’s back so you going out…

Yeah, we’d share fries. Then you’d go take care of your business. And walking, Braxton. Again, it comes with age. You only wanted to chill with me in bed. All you needed was a mom, and we would have been golden. Golden fries, my gold, and golden curls. Uh, no.

I’m into brunettes, you know.

But it won’t be any of that for the next few weeks. I’ve been thinking about that for the past few hours since I got my new schedule. Effed. My walking papers? The Day Job.

Braxton, I should shut up talking like that. I don’t need that Juju in the universe. It’s why I never thought about you passing away, either. Again, bad Juju. But I’m hungry, with a heavy heart. And existing is hard. How I long for the days I could send you to your room, B III. Eww! And Virgil is hanging out on the bed again. You could tell Virgil off.

Remember, “That’s my spot,” “my daddy,” and “my life.” None of us listened, did we?

Virgil, your aunt, or me.

And then I talk to you on Thursdays. Please! I speak to you daily because I’m scared or not trying to be “skeevy.” Or I feel STUPID! You’re among the top ten things I think about, Braxton. On the Daily!

Hopefully, you have better things to do on The Rainbow Bridge, in Heaven, or wherever.

But what am I going to do next week and the week after? I could do what I promised, B.

I have all the time in the world to edit and finish one or two of my books—yours and mine. I can try something that would make me not feel bad sitting here on a daily basis, B. TRY!

Do I have a choice, being scared, stupid, and with sons? The Daily B, Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 352 ~Even The Devil Gets Homesick~

Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but “Nobody Wants To Die.” Wasn’t that why I was working hard at the Day Job? And what happened to my son. And maybe if I read enough to get smart enough to write enough, we’d find Heaven. Even The Devil Gets Homesick

Monday, June 17, 2024

Tale 352 ~Even The Devil Gets Homesick~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Concepts, Ideas, Knowledge vs Belief? Just words like, better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.

Funny, I bring that up today. Although today isn’t today, it’s Thursday, June 13, 2024.

And I am afraid. You see how the days smoosh together. I’m scared every day. It’s by my doing, for the most part. I don’t Doublethink like some. I overthink! And why is that now?

Yes, Braxton is still gone, passed away, if I’m being nice about it. I don’t mean to sound cavalier about it, either. Madam, my son might have lived if I had weeks like this before.

So, it’s looking like a short week, and the next one will be shorter. I’m not going to be making anything. I abhor the Day Job, but there are three little words: I need money!

For me and for Virgil

And how about more books? Didn’t I mention myself writing one in my “conversation with Braxton?” I’ve got several. There are two I wrote for him. I love reading and writing… As long as it’s not about fur buddies meeting their ends. Why do I read those, hmm? They don’t make me feel better. And they only give me ideas on how to honor B.

Again, that takes money. And I’ll have plenty of time to think about it. But first, I’ll be worrying about the Day Job. Isn’t that what led to Braxton’s passing? Second, I’ll worry about getting in trouble with the day job, my dad, or the “D” in my pants. Third, there’s writing anything worthwhile, period. Don’t I miss it ever?

Yes! This explains why I was at the Dining Room table this morning. And I’m back in bed this afternoon. Because it’s hard not to be dirty. Did I say that? You’re not the Inspector.

But to be honest, what was Heaven? Where is Heaven? I swear, Madam, when I was reading the Day Job schedule and thinking I’d done something wrong… Joining B III?

No! Even on his last day, B wanted to come home with me. B III found his place with me. Heaven was lying with me as I read. Or it was sandwiched between his aunt and me. There’s my drooling over Cherry’s “shenanigans.” Sitting in the middle bed, “relaxed.” Reigning. Day Job’s not Heaven, but… Even The Devil Gets Homesick
“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1233 Days Without B III, Day 674 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 348 ~Virgil, B Good, Only…~

When did I last call Virgil a Good Boy/Good Puppy? Didn’t he just “GO” outside? If only I got paid for a bodily function… Eww! But I did make 12 bucks on OnlyFans. And 40 as the employee of the month. That’s not good… “Virgil, B Good, Only”

Thursday, June 13, 2024

Tale 348 ~Virgil, B Good, Only…~

1229 Days Without B III, Day 670 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? These past few days, for me. To quote a famous dog owner… Good Grief! Braxton.

I need you now more than ever. Only that’s a lie. Tomorrow is coming, B. Then the next day. And the day after, and the day after that. I should have followed you, like always. But knowing how bad I am on the inside – Anger, Depression, Yabbos, etc. And the outside isn’t any better, B. Cameras, mirrors, my eyes…

Remember your bath times, Braxton? I started handing you over to the groomers, not wanting to be mad at you. Those were the good times, Braxton. I recently came across a video of one of those baths. I cried. It’s amazing how much can change in just a few days.

One Thursday morning, you stopped crying, and I figured you needed a check-up, B III.

Then, on a Sunday afternoon, I hear the word Euthanasia, and my Old Man asks: “Are you getting a new dog?” That’s your grandpa for you, B. Oh! And that BBQ I went to on Sunday. I swear you wouldn’t have tolerated your cousins. But free food B III. Ha!

That was the only good financial decision I’ve made in quite a while. Did you see what I did yesterday? Or instead, what I didn’t do. Eww! But still ten bucks for a girl that’s not Cherry. Not even close.

Only she won’t be painting the town red. And I need new books. Ok, no, I don’t, but B III. You know, better than most.

It was good when we lied together, and I read “appropriate” stuff, Braxton. It’s one of the reasons you are so bright. Reading was/is Heaven. But seeing it? No! That was no good at all. Then again, how would I know? You could be hugged up by a girl with a “pretty face, a firm backside, and big (Yabbos) like casaba melons.” Yes, that’s from Coming To America, but still…

Braxton, that would be the “Good Life,” wouldn’t it? But M Anime, Cherry, your “honorary” aunt. Your Daddy is not a good person, B. I’m a very sad one. But for how much longer? Virgil is trying. He’s even back to sleeping in the bed with me. Virgil sees a Bad Moon Rising. Maybe he is courageous. Me? My Mood: Depressing. Virgil, B Good, Only…

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 345 ~Impossible’s Not Fact But Opinion~

It’s six, three, or one impossible thing a day. Just me getting out of this bed. And never with love or happiness. It’s fear and a J O B (snickers). Most people are of the opinion I have a good life. But me existing? Impossible’s Not Fact But Opinion

Monday, June 10, 2024

Tale 345 ~Impossible’s Not Fact But Opinion~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Tell that to the Six Impossible Things list I make every Sunday. In my “whimsical” tradition, I jot down six seemingly impossible things that bring me misery or betterment… Questions without answers. But how about today, Madam.

I could really use a wish right now. But impossible things are happening every day! Madam, I’m at least writing them out. And since I’m sure I’ll fail five out of six, where shall I go? Don’t tempt me. I’ve got something impossible, but Virgil, the new guy, is here. And so… I’m still breathing.

Let’s talk about Braxton. He’s always number one on my list. And haven’t they been able to clone dogs? Refrain from talking about what I’ve been reading. Just today, which is Sunday, June 2, 2024. I’ve looked it up to see if it’s possible. Not from hair or ashes. Bedding?

I’m sure that carries Braxton’s DNA. And his favorite toy? But besides that, I’ve bought another book to help me cope with losing my fur buddy. And then there’s Backyard Dungeon 11. I’m still bothering…

Cherry has a low opinion of those types of books. I remember when I bought M Anime some titles—awkward. And I still need to get B’s Aunt a birthday present. So, even more books!

Madam, it didn’t take tequila to make her clothes fall off. Did I really say that? Again, she’s almost like a sister to me… Almost. Cherry, M Anime, I fear they’ll get sick of me.

“The horror! The horror!” FEAR, my dear Madam. Of what? Of being abandoned, left alone, or arrested. The things I think about daily. Wild, Wicked, Wrong. Everything I want is insipid, insane, illegal, and/or impossible. It depends on who you ask. B wouldn’t have cared.

Because my son is brave. And the fears I have…

It’s impossible to give each one a name. And if I tell you, I’m afraid of everything, my Madam. It feels like I am more and more with each passing day. My Braxton and Fear.

Three wishes and three impossible things. The third would be to become what I desire.

I can’t clone my boy. I can’t find my courage. And to climb out of bed willing, on any day ending in Y. But why is that? I know full well it’s not a fact. Because Virgil is still here.

It’s impossible for Virgil to be Braxton. As impossible as it is for me to find acceptance in Braxton’s passing. Those are facts. Impossible to live? That’s not Braxton’s opinion. Impossible’s Not Fact But Opinion

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1226 Days Without B III, Day 667 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 341 ~Virgil, Braxton Begins To…~

This is what you get when you stay wrapped in blankets. And the new guy, the new dog, follows suit. Uh? Virgil’s been here 663 Days. And I’ve mourned Braxton way more than that. Can Little B III ever enjoy peace? Which one? Virgil, Braxton Begins To…

Thursday, June 6, 2024

Tale 341 ~Virgil, Braxton Begins To…~

1222 Days Without B III, Day 663 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Even when I’m not at the Day Job. I plan on the day unraveling anyway.

Or is that just me climbing out of the blankets? To think, Braxton, I never noticed us growing older. I wasn’t old enough to keep up with you, though. And I’m much too old for…

Take your pick. I was talking to Dear Future Wife today. You know the mom you never got to meet. And it’s doubtful I’ve met her between Friday, May 24, 2024, and now, B III.

Anyway, I was talking to her. As usual, I asked her this question. ‘Where’d You Go?’ Not about her. And I know, Braxton, I should love her better. If I loved everyone the way I loved you… I think of who you became. And what I could become. Keep my eyes off the sky, right?

But anyway I was asking, where were you? It’s been 1222 days, and I can still see your Heaven, plain as day. It’s one big fluffy bed with all our snacks and fast food. Yummy!

Do forgive me, Braxton. It’s been a long day, and I haven’t eaten because… Existing… Always existing instead of living, and we’ll get to that, but anyway, Monsieur Baby B.

Heaven’s big bed will have more substantial food for you on one side. You know, like on the high holy days. There was Thanksgiving, E-Day, and Christmas. Your Birthday, Braxton. Now, the other side would have all the treats you were supposed to have. And whatever I gave you when taking your medications. You know it still irks me, B.

You were taking all these heart medications. But your kidneys had you jumping off the bed to everlasting sunshine. If you’re not eating in paradise, you’ve jumped off the foot of the bed, and you’re sunbathing. The Rainbow Bridge, Braxton?

When will I see you again? Will I ever? Only you’re asking when will I begin to live. And not just exist. The philosopher, professor, and my little praetorian guard. I know I read enough books while you slept. So yeah, you would be pretty smart now, my son. Ha-Ha.

Looks at my reading list…

When does Virgil begin his watch? When does ACCEPTANCE begin? NEVER! When do I stop asking for your wings and LIVE? It won’t be this week, Virgil, Braxton Begins To…

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 338 ~Height And Weight, Equally Evil~

The question once wasn’t a man or a bear. There were two questions. How tall are you? And how much do you weigh? The reactions while I’m all, “Whether short or tall, we wanna thank you all for letting us… (do stuff).” Height And Weight, Equally Evil.

Monday, June 3, 2024

Tale 338 ~Height And Weight, Equally Evil~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… And some don’t need to be talked about. Or I’m not in the mood. In the mood…

A woman once asked me if I always carry that… “lovin’ feelin’.” The truth is, yes, Ma’am, even in the face of the unbearable loss of my son, Braxton. There were 161 days of emptiness. I tried “filling” that void with OnlyFans, and then one evening, looking at Chloë Grace Moretz, I… (Cue Homer drool).

She’s as old as Cherry. And the thing is this. I would do precisely the same thing with them both, Madam. How you like that! But it’s better to keep my hands on the keyboard.

As I mentioned, I’m not in the mood, but I’m a hypocrite. Since my indifference led to my son’s departure to The Rainbow Bridge, I Feel Everything. I’m constantly battling with anger, sadness, and a strange mix of emotions. Things that make Pretty, pretty girls go… Eww! Rage, Depression, Lust…

Please, Madam, which is good, that makes the others evil.

Why is it okay to indulge in one and not the other? Like the unnamed narrator of Andrew Davidson’s novel, The Gargoyle, “I am an equal opportunity misanthropist.” That’s okay.

But amid this paradox, in this day and age, to quote George Orwell’s book Animal Farm, ‘All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.’ However, instead of delving into politics, societal issues, or my insignificance… I choose to focus on my two boys. Friend and Freeloader…

Braxton and Virgil are both my boys. But Braxton was/is my son. Virgil’s here, Madam. Even at 660 days, I don’t know what to make of him. But Little B III is frozen in time.

Always and forever, I’m his Dad. But a dog owner…

So let’s talk about me. If a girl asks my height, she’s allowed to do so. If I ask her weight, I’m rude. But I would do the same thing to Piper Niven as to Roxanne Perez. Now, if I could have them both… I know I need to stop, Madam. “Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked.” But what makes me wicked? Who says that about me? Do you want a list? Ha!

If people want me gone, that’s okay. But if I agree, suddenly, I need help.

If I have money, I’m a player; without it, I’m a per… Anyway, if I want everything, I’m greedy. If I want nothing… I am. Height And Weight, Equally Evil

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1219 Days Without B III, Day 660 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 334 ~Buzzing B Because Virgil…~

Summertime and the bugs are out. Please! Between watching Helldivers II because, uh… what money? V catching something and getting Down With The Sickness. Reading, “Meditations.” And my technical prowess. It’s all bugging me. Buzzing B Because Virgil…

Thursday, May 30, 2024

Tale 334 ~Buzzing B Because Virgil…~

1215 Days Without B III, Day 656 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You know how I am; I need a nap as soon as I get back.

And it’s only 9:30 AM. I swear, Braxton, the last few days have been like a constant irritation, a persistent annoyance, and a never-ending disturbance all at once. It’s been like a bee sting, a mosquito bite, and a butterfly flapping all at once. Am I being a tad overdramatic? Me! Sigh! I just can’t seem to catch a break.

Braxton, I’m trying not to complain. And if I told you the truth. All the things that are bothering me… Well, I’m trying not to reach for the buzzer to paradise. How about Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door? Gotta Knock a Little Harder. Me or Virgil? I don’t know anymore. But if anything, this is far from a land of milk and honey. Whatever V’s hacking.

I’ve been quite the busy bee cleaning up after him. What about my messes? Everything!

I think of you in the rare moments of peace when there’s a brief quiet between Virgil’s crying and coughing. Your words, sometimes comforting, sometimes biting, echo in my head. Am I blaming you for my reading Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations? Some of it is noise, and some is nothing, Ha-Ha. And then there’s what I need to hear. I’ve copied far too many quotes, Braxton.

Death by a thousand cuts. Or bites, whatever. Speaking of which, I should go and live outside right now. With Virgil being the way he is, your granddad, too. Are you out there, Little Braxton?

At least I wouldn’t be breaking anything else. And you know how I feel about being on my knees… Well, no! The only girl here you liked was your honorary aunt. She wouldn’t have minded. Looking at her, Cherry, M Anime, for a stepmom, Braxton…

Some girl that would rock me like a hurricane. A girl that is a hurricane. A Bullet With Butterfly Wings… I’m sorry for all the musical references. But again, Braxton, there’s so much noise. I thought I said I couldn’t hear you, and then you sent me such a title.

Yesterday, while at the Day Job, I was thinking about the worst sounds in existence. There’s the last breath you took. There’s every breath I take. It’s breathing, in general. Pretty much Then laughter. Let’s not forget making myself moan. But butterflies flapping their wings… Somewhere, one flapped, and Virgil caught a bug. I’m flipping through book pages. And what the Hell is that smell! It all bugs me. Without you… Buzzing B Because Virgil…

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 331 ~Harder To Breathe Up Top~

Will you breathe? Will, breathe. More like, “Daddy, breathe.” Because when my furry little boy died, I didn’t plan on it. But I’ve managed for 1212 days. There are always more books to read. Or babes to look at. But to exist? Harder To Breathe Up Top

Monday, May 27, 2024

Tale 331 ~Harder To Breathe Up Top~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Some people cancel them outright. Some are forgotten about. And still, some will evolve into, well, anything.

It makes my head hurt, along with the time travel. I’m speaking to you on Tuesday, May 21, 2024. However, when this rule was written out, I traced it back to 2018. I mean, wow!

I figured I’d be in another place entirely. Braxton would be twenty next year. And that’s when I expected to lose him. That is if he didn’t lose me by smothering me with his fur.

So what’s making my head hurt now? Why am I breathing when I don’t really want to, Madam? Let’s start by raising my head in the morning. The first breath that enters my lungs. It’s either my Braxton’s name that comes out. Or expletives from my mourning or moaning. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This.

I’m glad I covered the mirror in the bedroom. But there is the black mirror, AKA the phone, on the table beside me. I hold my breath, looking at the beauty of others. My mind.

Inevitably, I will find other ways not to breathe and instead sound like the zombie I imagine I am. The moans of newly found flesh.

Did I really just say that? And what’s worse is the look on my face when I say or do such things. Taking OnlyFans pictures.

But I could be so exhausted that whatever… risqué book I’m reading falls and hits me in the face. How many times has that happened?

And yet I live. My head stays intact. Breathing away and denying my fondest wish.

What? To follow Braxton wherever he went. The Rainbow Bridge? I am Braxton’s father, but if I had been even more of a man… Would he have lived? I keep asking myself that, Madam. I wanted to be a man of money, merit, and miracles. I would build our Heaven.

There would be no air because we would have everything, and no one could touch my son or me. And yet he found it. I suppose. My B III is sitting in his bed on the vet’s table, not breathing. As for me? When was the last time the “bigger head” has been up? Uhh…

There’s plenty of air as I fall Down To Earth. Nobody but Virgil and I. Harder To Breathe Up Top

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1212 Days Without B III, Day 653 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 327 ~Virgil Will B Back~

Will my Dad get back to me? I’m sure my son asked that, as I never left his side until he got sent to Heaven. Hell! If I wanted to join B, I could talk to my father. But, I won’t see paradise. I’m a sinner, a machine, or a zombie. Virgil Will B Back.

Thursday, May 23, 2024

Tale 327 ~Virgil Will B Back~

1208 Days Without B III, Day 649 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m coming to you on Friday, May 17, 2024. But that’s not entirely accurate. Right?

1208 Days have passed since you left. I’ll say the same of 1202. Even on day 1, the silence has become more profound, turning our world into ‘A Quiet Place.’ Am I still making too much noise about things that don’t matter, Braxton? Our “lives.”

Like father, like son. You kept me safe from what goes bump in the night. Only the FEAR always comes back. Is that why you wanted to be so scary? I was only scared of you when it came to you wearing clothes. Yes, like father, like son. And don’t ask me why I’m speaking to you so late in the day. I’m sure Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, or whatever is full of toys and pretty good girls. Ha-Ha! There’s nothing to be afraid of there, B III. I hope.

But this is your Home. It still pains me to utter that word. Home? Of all the things I’ve gotten wrong. Braxton, “I’m sorry I didn’t do none of it right.” But bringing you back here? Well, I did, in a way. I haven’t opened your box, tomb. Uh, casket? Since the day I got it back. I’m too terrified of losing what’s left of you. And what’s left of me, B? Your Old Man.

FEAR of my Old Man.

It shouldn’t matter, Braxton. None of this is my fault. I’m not barking my head off about any of this. Well, except with you. I yearn to feel the indifference again, Braxton. How dare I?

But I can feel it again: FEAR, FURY, and FORGETFULNESS.

That I am a man? Like I’ve ever been? Like when you would play with your toys. Or with your Aunt’s… Yabbos. I’m all too familiar with my man parts, but being your Dad is what made me a man… of sorts. And I wish whoever that was would come back. But I mistook V for you. And whoever I’m looking at in the mirror. B’s Dad isn’t coming back.

Joe Stevens was a cog in the machine. Number 14 was a performer. Clarence became a corpse. And Bingham Madsen was a sell-out. At least he had money—his comeback.

Only, I’m no leader. I’m not much of an OnlyFans “performer.” How about writing? ” I’m not Jesus or rich. Still, Virgil Will B Back.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad