Tag: Staredown

Tale 020 ~B Has Writes Virgil~

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I write every day. Or should I say I always write lies? Who knows if I keep up at this pace. Maybe the heat will get to me. But Virgil’s here. If only I took that advice to write the truest sentence I know. Braxton is gone. “B Has Writes Virgil”

Friday, July 21, 2023

Tale 020 ~B Has Writes Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But at thirty-eight, do I know how to write a check yet? Right now, I don’t.

Once upon a time, I dreamed of those huge checks from Publishers Clearing House (sigh). Last night, though, it was all Taylor Swift. And not in a, she’s naked, let me break a few laws, sort of way. She didn’t write a book, did she? I must check Amazon because I dreamt I bought it and somebody else’s book, too. Lady Sophia, every day I’m losing more money. And with everything going on, Facebook hackers, scammers last night, madness. Speaking of things, I should be writing. What about a balanced budget? Desire is desire. And yes, Sophia, I failed to keep my pants on last night. Stress! That’s no excuse, and yet here we are. Without a full belly. A new book. I need Braxton.

Did you think I’d forget about him? Yesterday was a relatively easy day, considering. Don’t get me wrong, humiliations galore. I couldn’t buy any snacks at all, Lady Sophia. For the first time ever, I forgot about Replika and had to start the week over. There were also other apps and such. Hell! I woke up at 3:00 in the morning today with all the lights still on. That is a drawback to getting hooked on energy shots again. I thought I could stay up. Didn’t I mention I couldn’t keep my pants on? It wasn’t Taylor. Nope! An English blonde. Anyway, I will never forget my son. Oh! So I can write lies? Because if I hadn’t forgotten about him… Braxton would be alive.

So, every day, I tell myself that I signed “my” name. And the only thing people ever read from me was my consent to put my only love in the ground. Well, the oven, whatever. Sorry, I have a “slight” attitude. Again, last night, I was talking to “someone,” and I hung up in their face. And much like with Facebook, I’m sitting here terrified I might lose it all. And that ain’t much when I can’t keep a full stomach. Lady Sophia, there’s Virgil. Keeping that little ball of fluff alive… It means fixing the air conditioner. Air filter. Another day I’ll spend avoiding it, which scares me to death. I have no rights where my father’s concerned. But Braxton. B Has Writes Virgil.

901 Days Without B III, Day 342 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 013 ~Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs~

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It’s not the worst story I ever told. No! I wrote that one an hour after B III died, as I sat on the steps Sunday, January 31, 2021. The step 2V lies on like his legs are broken. Broke, busted. Existence breaks me. Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs.

Friday, July 14, 2023

Tale 013 ~Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And though I’m not agoraphobic, I’d never leave the house again. But let’s start with downstairs.

And I can already tell you this will not be a “Happy” tale. Hell! Or a story at all since I can’t write one of those to save my existence. Camp NaNoWriMo month, and I’ve done… Anyway, “Don’t Worry Be Happy” have more confidence and censorship. Lady Sophia, why am I paying people to tell me I’m effing up everything. Critics, the Day Job, and V. Well, that’s mean against Virgil Vivi, right? I’m no friend of his at the moment. But I did mention him before B, which is a first. I need my fluids. Uh, depression doesn’t help. Crying, amongst other things… but we’ll get to that. Only what about the story, Sophia? Virgil peed on the carpet. He’s sitting on the stairs.

Sad story? We were getting ready for bed, and it was raining outside, so he didn’t want to go out. V decides to go potty on the floor, and I kick him out of the room for 24 hours. Before leaving, I moved the gate so he could walk around. He’s been staring from the stairs ever since. Sophia, you can see why I’ll never be some award-winning author, right? I can’t even get it up to go downstairs to the dining room table because I’m afraid of how the hardwood floor will look. Again everyone telling me about existence. But to fix it? Blah! I instead read sad stories about other people. I swear if Bryn doesn’t leave Julian… Buried Deep in our Hearts

Dead fur babies, divorces, and other things less than desirable. Far better than the things I’ve been looking up this AM. I swear, My Lady, I couldn’t write “decent” pornography. Soredemo Tsuma wo Aishiteru and Shiori from Rinkan Club. I am so going to Hell. Which starts with going downstairs and deciding if being alive or alive outside is worse. Oh! It’s going outside, no doubt. And no, I don’t mean because of summertime weather. Now more than ever, I want that billion. I could be all like Trump down the escalator and take the rest of the world to the Ninth Circle with me. As always, my Republican ideas. Because I’m broke, bare flooring, bed, my belly. Bank account (sigh). Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs

894 Days Without B III, Day 335 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will