Saga 216 ~Breathe, Virgil And B~

Smells Like Teen Spirit or worse. B was only fifteen. But I’m thirty-eight, crying over a second year without my son. He’d be eighteen come February 13. And I haven’t washed his bed since he passed. The smell… um, no, that’s me. Breathe, Virgil And B

Thursday, February 2, 2023

Saga 216 ~Breathe, Virgil And B~

732 Days Without B III, Day 173 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I remember how you used to dance, wag your tail, and your footsteps. Little toesy-wosies…

Oh, how long did it take me to learn English after you left? Uh, you’d listen to me rant, B. But of course, I’d rather not today. Only you wouldn’t have me crying either, Braxton. Confession was earlier this morning, Wednesday, February 1, 2023. I am still afraid, B III. Cooking something to eat? You’ll be happy to know I have food left from the funeral. No, not yours. I’m sort of pissed about that. It’s tradition. Barbeque… Piggie Potato. Yesterday, I wanted both. Only since the place I got my first meal without you sucks at making a Piggie Potato… Well, a part of you says I’m thinking about myself. But no B III. Well, other than the fact I stink… I don’t know.

Not any people around here to make me nervous. I swear I should have had you registered as Emotional Support. As for Virgil… He’s still breathing. A low blow Braxton? Please, he’s only been here about six months. Call me in fifteen years, eleven months. Actually, call me sooner, Braxton. I won’t forget about you. But then, forgetting myself, B? How I wish I could B III. For real, I want to forget about that damn funeral and my funk. One more reason I’m going to go ahead and finish that food from the funeral. And I can hope that I don’t hear from your grandparents for a while. All that’s taking me away, B. That’s how I lost you, B. Holding my breath boy

Barely. Forgetting. And not wanting to breathe. Being around people B III. It’s like I don’t have the right to be alive. I want to be so small. But you are my world, a god, and even a titan. And on today of all days, I remember carrying you dying. The smell of my failure. All I need is the air that I breathe. And if that meant I could keep you alive without pain. If I had to carry you around to keep you with me, B. I wouldn’t mind at all. Not ever. Always and forever, that smell I couldn’t put my finger on, holding you. Those McDonald’s fries you loved. Braxton, you’re my reason to breathe… and smell. Breathe, Virgil And B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 215 ~Braxton, Virgil, Everyone Nose~

Well, I finally fell asleep at 2:00 in the morning. So after waking up at 4:00 AM, blotting my eyes. After some bed antics, and reading a book, I’m ready to go. Um, a shower? Hasn’t been helping much lately, and “Braxton, Virgil, Everyone Nose.”

Wednesday, February 1, 2023

Saga 215 ~Braxton, Virgil, Everyone Nose~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now; only you don’t know. I stink… sure. My writing sucks… ok; my son is dead, yep.

My Braxton is dead. And January 31, 2021, is the worst day, next to E-Day. But what about my granddaddy? Am I still going on about that? Not his death but yeah, humiliations galore like moi exist everywhere. And not only in my Day Job. I should have went Echo. Instead, I decided to stink up the funeral worse than a corpse. That’s pretty harsh against someone I don’t even know. Anyway, I got to get a new deodorant, Inspector. Whatever I got, I don’t know when. Well, it’s not working, and I have been stinking up joints royally. Hell! Is this my form of penance, confessing this shit? I’m sure my Ma was awfully embarrassed. And “What’s My Age Again?” Thirty-eight. And everyone else…

If only I could be as unknown as I am on Twitter. And Facebook, it looks like, but then yesterday. Um, like going on a week or so now. I’ve been losing people everywhere, Echo. Of course, the only follower, friend, and little fellow I should worry about is Braxton. What about Virgil, you ask? I didn’t hang out with him yesterday. Again, I’m a meanie. Or I didn’t want to deal with all the humiliation, shame, and guilt. If you want to know why I’m so late talking to you today. 9:05 in the morning. I was busy reading Inspector… Come on! That’s not a lie. I’m 60% into “The Book Eaters.” But I’m also a breast man. With two of my friends… Turned-on?

And I’m wondering why people are leaving in droves. All I think about… “Get Naked!” It’s either that or my little boy. And no, I don’t mean my “Enormous Penis….” Ok, Inspector, I’ll stop. With today being February 1, I should have plenty of respect Inspector. Talking to M Anime yesterday. A particular image she laid out would have me sprung. Instead, I kept my Nose out of my pillow and into Braxton’s hoody and other things that were his.

Oh, along with myself. I swear, after granddaddy’s funeral, I thought I caught COVID-19. Inspector, as the song goes, “I’m still alive.” The songs that Braxton begs me listen to. Inspector, he’s always and forever in my business… and heart. Plus, he doesn’t mind the smell… Braxton, Virgil, Everyone Nose

731 Days Without B III, Day 172 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 214 ~To B, Loved Again~

Ain’t no woman like the one I got… Blowing her off to spend time with my son. Braxton died today 2 years ago, at 15. He was 13 days shy of his birthday. To lose such a love… All the women in the world… I’m sorry. I want my boy back To B, Loved Again.

Tuesday, January 31, 2023

Saga 214 ~To B, Loved Again~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now… No! Scratch That! Leave Me Alone! Not Today, Please! Fuck!

(walks to Braxton’s old/new room)

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Good day… Last time I ever said that to you was Saturday, January 30, 2021. I should have starved. I’m sorry… Geez! Bad choice of words. I wanted to apologize for yelling at your stepmom; ok. But today, Braxton Barks Bradford. What? Today is our day, your day, the day? I don’t know how to say it. Like the vet’s office? If I were a good man, a great daddy, I’d head up to Banfield today. I would ask to sit on that bench for but a few minutes. Waiting, knowing, and yet I was hoping to. I had to. “He’s My Son!” I wanted to yell at those ladies, the vets, the whole damn world!

And I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. How many times have I said that, Braxton? It never stops. Two years. Always and forever. Look at where I’m standing? What was it I read about Enshrinement? Braxton Barks Bradford… Whatever, you’ll always be here. Only how many apologies do I have? There’s Never Enough. I’m sorry about this week. What about the last week you were alive? I had so many plans for what today might be like, Braxton. I would have been better off joining you the day you died. Too damn easy. I’m sorry for talking to you today… It’s Sunday, January 29, 2023. You were dying. Braxton, that was on a Friday in 2021, but you know that. Triple B, I love you

Always and forever! B III, nothing turned out right, then or now. This second anniversary. Who knows? I could get lucky, and my “father” could kill me Monday. Funeral… Ironic. If I wanted to die, why not blow off your great-granddaddy’s funeral. Making money? To think I believed the old Day Job was my punishment, my damnation, and indifference. No, Braxton. Losing you and having to suffer with living relatives and what about, um… I ain’t mentioning him today. I want to sit on our loveseat and watch movies. Barbecue? Braxton, that was my first meal without you. That night, “I’ll never be loved again.” Braxton, you have to know, You Were Loved. You are loved. I once was. I am… To B, Loved Again

730 Days Without B III, Day 171 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 209 ~Death, B Not Virgil~

I didn’t sign up for this… stuff. But in 2021, on the 31st of this month, I signed the paperwork to end my son’s life. I swear he gave me a look that said, “Daddy, can we go home?” And now 2023, I got a call from “home.” Death… “Death, B Not Virgil.”

Thursday, January 26, 2023

Saga 209 ~Death, B Not Virgil~

725 Days Without B III, Day 166 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Well, I’m still breathing. So is Virgil. My “granddaddy,” your great-grandfather, not so much today.

I didn’t sign up for this shit. Being born, Braxton. I know you’ll hate me saying this, but it was the second worse day of this existence. If I had a choice B III to do it all over again… I didn’t sign up to be your daddy, either. I’m 38, and you were the greatest love of what I wish I could say is “my life.” It was the greatest honor to be your Dad, Braxton. I mean that B. I didn’t sign up to kill you… Well, no. There was actual paperwork involved in that, I remember. Sings out… “(Remember who you are) I remember (Remember what you did to him).” At this rate, I’ll have to do it again. Only Virgil’s 2.

You know he’s okay, Braxton. Starts singing again… “Lift me up. Hold me down. Keep me close. Safe and sound.” That’s Little Virgil, Rihanna, you know what I mean, Braxton. One more reason I wish you were around. Because I have no idea. Today’s thoughts… When I was leaving and listening to Virgil cry, I couldn’t help but think. Betrayal. Treachery. For the record, that’s the difference between you and him B. Looked it up. Betrayal is violating loyalty, love, and your very life. Treachery’s the same but without any loyalty. Anyway. As I listened to Virgil, I thought of you and said, “fucking ninth circle.” Then there was the text about your great-grandfather. Your grandma is who I’m worried about. And what about me?

The third thought of the day. As I was leaving the Day Job, I read this flyer saying something like, “It’s okay to talk about suicide.” Do you remember when your great-grandma died? It was the day your grandfather kicked me out. Hell! I deserved that, given my age. It was the longest we were apart, Triple B. It was around 2 months. Terrible! Braxton, there came your Aunt’s wedding, which was about 5 days as I went to see her, which wasn’t bad at all. And now here we are 725 days, almost 2 years. Gospel 209 ~ Will’s Yearly Eye Exam~. I couldn’t see how sick you were getting? How do I feel about my granddaddy? RIP. Virgil’s life? Death, B Not Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 208 ~B Virgil In Time~

A big lie, I tell myself… There’s No Time. What did I do all this morning? And those small instances when I’m trying to teach V (sigh). I had all the time in the world after the Day Job, but I was so mad. Braxton paid with time. B Virgil In Time

Wednesday, January 25, 2023

Saga 208 ~B Virgil In Time~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, ha-ha. How I wish. It would be better if Virgil (formerly Archie) knew who he was. And me… I’m a Boob.

Not the guy that should be worrying about taxes, calling the termite guy. Terrible Daddy? That last one we’ll get to in a while. Only I need to make a list of the necessary things. Yeah, it’s not like my Six Impossible Things are any closer. Even pepped up with energy. Please, I’ll be asleep by five. And speaking of closing my eyes, have I cried for B III today? I did curse out Virgil for stepping in shit last night. As I’ve said, January is not a good time. And isn’t this entire existence about me stepping in shit? One more reason we’re talking now. But (sigh) we’ll finish well today because what shit will the Day Job bring. Again, taxes, termites, filters, adulting…

When all I want to do is be a little boy, curled up in blankets crying for my best friend. That Inspector Echo is what is pissing me off the most. Well, the Day Job. But besides blaming myself for Braxton’s death, I blame them for making me hate. Republicans? Inspector, I’d make a damn good one if I was some old white Trumptard. But no, I want to talk about my son (Braxton) and the boy (Virgil) in this house. Whatever will I do? There will be barbecue and dog movies. No new treasures as I look at the account that doesn’t say billion. So why do I keep saying I AM? Hell! I am still Braxton’s Daddy, and nothing will change that Inspector.

But then there’s an animal communicator I want to talk to sometimes, Inspector. A wish. And before that, I meant to speak to some of these counselors. About what I will do with Virgil, come the day. When has anyone ever agreed with me? Oh, right, I killed him. And it should have been me, but this isn’t Heaven. Tuesday begging for heavenly boobs. Only she refused, so I had money to spend on books. And those books, Echo, weren’t about burying fur babies. Inspector, love and hate Amazon. Wonder what they and other stores must think of me? When the truth is “I Don’t Know Who I Am.” I could use a “Repair Man,” a bug guy, a counselor, or an adult. Virgil? No, Braxton. B Virgil In Time

724 Days Without B III, Day 165 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 202 ~Virgil, Don’t B Mad~

I’ve raised my voice at Virgil once… ok, twice. What he did on Braxton’s pillow, I tried to wash it and destroyed it. And sniffing Braxton’s bed. But Virgil’s not mad; he’s scared. Physically I’m sick, and my heart remains broken. Virgil, Don’t B Mad

Thursday, January 19, 2023

Saga 202 ~Virgil, Don’t B Mad~

718 Days Without B III, Day 159 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Even if you got food poisoning, you’d consider it your best day ever. But milkshakes…

2V can’t be mad at me today. Besides sharing a ton of fries with him, I’m sure he doesn’t have a stomachache right now. Not throwing up or crapping all over your room B III. About to get all TMI. Well, Jack’s is now one more place I can’t go anymore, considering how I’m feeling. But I can’t check the walking path, either. You remember all the walks you took until you got old and I was lazy. My zombie apocalypse buddy. Braxton, I swear I have plenty of reasons to be mad these days. A stomach bug. Way too many boobs, and missing you, my boy. More than ever. It’s making me a meanie regarding Virgil Vivi. I’m a crappy friend so far, B.

I’m sick and tired. Yes, plenty mad too. But Virgil is scared, if anything. It’s been about five months, and where is he? As I said, Braxton, your room lying on a pillow by himself. At least now I have an excuse. I don’t want him to see me like this, about to blow any minute. And I mean that in more ways than one. So gross, I know. I remember your good days and bad. If I thought of those more, I would focus on something other than your last ones, Braxton. And as far as Virgil is concerned… I suppose that’s one thing you two have in common, Triple B. Every day is your last and his first. And at best, I’m in the middle every given day.

But right now, I don’t know how I feel. Well, physically, I’m hopping out of bed. Fuck that milkshake! Or was it the chicken? The fries were on the chicken, but V’s good. I’m fucked. At least I’m too sick to be Humpin’ Around. So I can’t eat, I can’t hump, I’m just like you. How dare I compare this to your last days. Yet again, you see what I’m doing, don’t you, Little B? Anytime there’s pain, I have to dig into the greatest pain. Hurts Like Hell. As the song goes, “I loved and I loved and I lost you.” But I don’t love Virgil like you. When shall I? Not this month; the next, ever, I don’t know. Virgil, Don’t B Mad

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 201 ~B-V That’s Naming’s Hard~

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

Wednesday, January 18, 2023

Saga 201 ~B-V That’s Naming’s Hard~

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 195 ~B “Stairs” Down Virgil~

Virgil successfully climbed up the stairs today. And what was my accomplishment? I stepped up my porn viewing. I climbed up the stairs at the Day Job to avoid people. What would B III be proud of? B “Stairs” Down Virgil.

Thursday, January 12, 2023

711 Days Without B III, Day 152 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I haven’t looked up in some time. Looked down? That our song Don’t Look Down?

I have yet to listen to one song on Spotify this year. I’m still trying to pick something to set the tone for the new year. Don’t Look Down, Just Look Up, and He Lives In You, to name a few. Staring down at the phone when we should be talking. You remember B III. Can’t say I have such memories with Virgil yet, but it’s been five months and some change, 152 days, to be precise. But you’ve seen everything. Kinda scares me when I’d go out of my way to keep something from you. What kind of Dad would I be, ha? I am trying with Virgil Vivi, honest. He could need you more than me right now, don’t you think, B III?

Yesterday was not one of my best days. And that was with getting off early. Yuck! Get your mind out of the gutter or wherever it was. The stuff that you would get into, Braxton. Yes, I’m reading yet another book about dead fur babies. “The Grief Recovery Handbook for Pet Loss.” Braxton Barks, you wish I’d keep my head out of such things. Memories. Like King Ezekiel would say, “and yet I smile.” It’s good to think about how you’d bury yourself in your aunt’s cleavage. Beats you being buried in another way. Fucking low. Speaking of which, yesterday. Remember I said I wished you didn’t see me like that… much too often. My Triple B seeing some Triple X exploits in Saimin Seishidou.

In this Mad Season…, yet another song for the playlist I’m building. Virgil needs you. Braxton, it’s not like I remember how you learned to navigate the stairs. One of the few things I can’t write about. But you learned, and that was a miracle. Your whole life was B. My little miracle, my son, my best friend. One of the few things I can claim in this world I continue to exist in. And I can only imagine you giving me one of your looks. You know, the ones that seemed to say. I hate this inflection, but “… is you crazy.” Yesterday yes. The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. More like The Reika and Reina Kurashiki occurrence. So let’s say B “Stairs” Down Virgil.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 194 ~ B’s Dead Quiet Virgil~

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

Wednesday, January 11, 2023

Saga 194 ~ B’s Dead Quiet Virgil~

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 188 ~To B New Virgil~

The first thing, the first someone that made me want to be a better man, ha, wasn’t some parent or teacher. A lovely girl with decent Yabbos made me clean the house. Or flash some cash. But a four-legged kid… I Tried, I try? To B New Virgil

Thursday, January 5, 2023

Saga 188 ~To B New Virgil~

704 Days Without B III, Day 145 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Are you having a good year, seeing as I’m from the past, the future… whatever

Time-Travel is way past my pay grade Braxton. And speaking of time, you know why I’m talking to you on Saturday, December 31, 2022. Today, this year, already fucking hell! There are better ways to start the year. Am I right? It’s my third cry of the day this morning. Braxton, by the time you read this, how many times will I have cried? And more tears are coming. Remind me that I need to see to it getting time off for Tuesday, January 31, 2023, and Feb 1. Ok, Triple B, I’m going to stop crying now. Then again, Virgil might be awfully confused by the change. “You’ll be like lil’ John Q and get a change of heart.” Do you think so, Braxton? Yep, still looking up music.

Ludacris? Both the man and ludicrous my existence. Both cruel and, as for now, necessary. Though I want to say, highly unnecessary. But again, Virgil is here. And how does he know me? Indeed do you know me at all? The day you went away… I wish I had too. The fact that I’m writing this at all (sigh). Unless, by some miracle, I’m not going to do something STUPID today. But again, Little B, I have thought about it. Anytime I open my eyes. Indeed the moment you took your last breath, I closed my eyes. Brand new me. Unfortunately for me. Anyway, this is a brand new year. “It’s a new world, it’s a new start.” Again with the music. Nothing new, B.

I can’t even guess what might be new because of how far I’m jumping. No, not like that, Triple B. If I am keeping my promise… that’s one of many reasons B III. You know, going crazy over Triple X or something like that. Once again, RAGE driving me bonkers. How about thinking that Virgil Vivi could be you somehow? I don’t even remember “Me Before You.” Or I just don’t want to. Hell! I’d give anything to be who I was… perhaps two weeks before you died. And every week I write, I’ll be the person you think, Braxton. Virgil would be better off. But then again, you might have lived. Yet how to see the man in the mirror? To B New Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad