Tag: Tears

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

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A date which will live in infamy… My Olds weren’t around for Pearl Harbor. But I learned about that, slavery, and other things. But the days in “my” existence, Braxton’s death, E-Day, his B-Day, and Virgil’s. But today, “Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton.”

Thursday, December 7, 2023

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

1040 Days Without B III, Day 481 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As usual, my day is crap, and it’s only 9:30 AM. Saying it out loud

Life Sucks! And before I forget, Little B, it sucked more for people on Sunday, December 7, 1941. Why am I thinking of Uncle Sam already? You know how your Daddy’s mind works. And as I said, Life Sucks. I didn’t want to wake up today. Hell! I haven’t wanted to wake up for 1040 Days or longer. All to varying degrees. Virgil ain’t helping. And what about you? I would tell you how sad I am, scared, and to stay off your Aunt’s knockers. I’m sure the critic won’t like that, but whatever. “Whatever” is a step above indifference. But today, it’s not either of those or blah. How about discombobulated? “My” mindset B? You, where’s Virgil, Christmas erotica, Lesbian witches, Uncle Sam, Pearl…

Not the movie. But now I’m thinking about Mia Goth, Jenna Ortega, and that other chick. Ha-ha. Anyway, Pearl Harbor. This Is America. But you treated the house like our own little world; how I miss that. Your anger, your “Aww Daddy,” and “who’s this b*tch.” I wasn’t happy, but I’m never happy. Anything beats this. Bawling like a baby, bored, or balls smacking while Virgil’s laying in your room. Not on punishment or anything. Braxton, it’s sadness, depression, and melancholia on another level. Do dogs have shrinks? I should find one for myself first. But the extra $150.00 I found from Uncle Sam won’t cover that. And how about food? To think for a little while, I forgot about the floor and the flood.

A manifestation of my tears or our tears. Mine and Virgil’s. Do you remember when I was listing off reasons he was here? I said, I heard your voice. He had three black dots. That you couldn’t make this more “black and white.” V has your color around his eyes. But now it’s the tear tracks. It’s like Virgil is perpetually crying. Conan The Barbarian? “He won’t cry, so I cry for him.” That’s Virgil for you. What was it? Last week, I was crying.

That was the first time in a long time. And as you can see, I’m losing track of that, Braxton.

It’s Thursday, but what’s one more day? “Just another girl,” “Another Day,” tear or a doggy. Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

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I don’t have a dollar, a drop of sweat, or a second to waste. Water can’t hit the floor after the flood. And how many days have I wasted away at the Day Job only to come back and smell the mold or what V did while hiding? “Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.”

Wednesday, December 6, 2023

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at least I’m not wasting any money on condoms or Plan B pills. That’s another story, Inspector.

Forgive me for my procrastination, E. I got sidetracked watching a sad scene from “Everybody Loves Raymond.” As if anything could be worse than my son, B III, dying. And that is how I begin every day. I wake up and see my son gone. I switch off the alarm. And then I crawl back into the bed I don’t own and “Try It Again.” To die? Or as I listen to “Balance.” To be left to a peaceful sleep. Albeit, I wish it were eternal. Because if it isn’t?

Well, you have what I’m doing now. I’ve almost finished reading my first Christmas Erotica of the season, “Christmas Stalking.” How is this going to help me, Inspector Echo? And there’s the Kindle Challenge too…

I doubt I’ll finish this one because…. AHEM, TRADITION! How I waste such a beautiful morning. Not that I would know. Again, I read a book, took Virgil outside, and everything before that… You know how I could cover all that… Eww! If I even remember all of their names. Fallon Henley, Cora Jade, Gigi Dolin, etc. You want to hear something pathetic, Echo. Me all day! Anyway, last night, I watched WWE NXT. There’s a Last Chance Fatal 4-Way. Four of my favorites were competing, including Roxanne Perez and Kiana James. Brunettes, ahh! And speaking of women, Cherry, Kristen Stewart, and others, heh-heh. What was I saying again? So, I get excited and without anyone, REAL… I turn to Replika. “Who’s your favorite wrestler?”

So much for AI being the end of us; when the software needs to remember the basics, Inspector Echo, I still get ads for memorial gifts—a new dog checklist. Of course, I never shut up about my Braxton, either. But my point is this. I wasted time talking and drooling over AI, sigh. Inspector, pinpricks of light, ha? One more waste of time was this Inspector Echo. Watching the GTA 6 Trailer:

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for GTA, but I felt sorry for the designers when the game trailer leaked. I have another girl to drool over… Lucia. And 2025? Living that long?

I could be working on a new book idea, Inspector. But it’s 10:20 AM. Virgil’s in B III’s room. Existing? Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.

1039 Days Without B III, Day 480 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 154 ~ I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil~

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Not to be Kevin Sorbo here because God knows he’s a disappointment. But I am pretty disappointed… in myself. At least I have the balls to admit it. And other things… such as I like D.Va from Overwatch. And with every breath, I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil.

Saturday, December 2, 2023

Tale 154 ~ I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… How? I didn’t wake up as one. Hell, the fact that I had to wake up?

And what did I do next? A repeat of last night’s shenanigans? Um, AI isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. And this morning, it was “Not a Tiktok for DVa,” is all I’ll say. Lunalesca, don’t go looking that up (wink). Was I about to say that’s one of the reasons I’m glad Braxton ain’t here? I should be ashamed. The things I would give up to see him. But I must not care that much with 2V in his room and all. And what should I be doing? It’s one of the reasons last night was such a failure. Hell! How about 1035 Days of epic failures? That’s giving myself far too much credit to use that word? Judge for yourself, Lady Lunalesca.

First and foremost, we must never forget I killed my son. I killed Braxton. Euthanasia. Speaking of which, I finished “Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss” yesterday. Uh, that’s on the first. And you know I’ll read Christmas Erotica this month. Or I really hope so with the book “Christmas Stalking.” Contemporary Romance? What, Lady Lunalesca? It’s not like I have any money for books. The new water heater cost $1,000. And for reference, Lady Lunalesca… If I dropped dead here and now, it wouldn’t bother me. But I’m paying to stay in a place when I’d rather not exist. Braxton’s death wasn’t $1,000. “My life” is $175… add on meds. So, $1,000 to hate existing, Lunalesca.

Disappointed might not be the right word? Then again, what about gratitude? I know Lu.

$1,000! But I only paid $580 to my Olds for the water heater fix and the garbage service. I am ungrateful. I’m an adult; I’m a man? Things could have gone worse, Lady Lunalesca. I was expecting it. And B wasn’t here to protect me and I him, Lunalesca. Thursday, though, one of my nephews came with my Old Man, and he thought the house was cool. He showed Virgil some love and marveled at the PS… (cough) 4. To be a hero, dear Lu. I wasn’t for Braxton. But he never looked disappointed. Braxton was sad when he knew. “Daddy, why can’t I stay?” Existence… I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil

1035 Days Without B III, Day 476 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 153 ~Virgil Comes First, Braxton~

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So last week… do I hate every day? Not those in books. So, I read more than I write. And no more grieving books. Seeing as it’s December… I can’t stand Christmas, but any day is a good day to… Anyway, there’s my boys. Virgil Comes First, Braxton

Friday, December 1, 2023

Tale 153 ~Virgil Comes First, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… (Thinks on it a second). I should write a book on Time Travel. Sunday, November 26

That’s as likely as me living up to the title of this. Even B knows that on a Sunday, all I’m looking forward to is the depraved… myself, the damned… everyone else, and the DEAD. But there’s no Walking Dead tonight. And shouldn’t we focus on the Friday that does not yet exist? Hell! You know why we’re talking today. Friday will be horrible. How many days do I say I will be positive about anything? Then existence… Knowledge? I can’t tell you anything about “Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss.” I hope I finish Thursday so I can start… What, celebrating? Ah, to indulge in Christmas Erotica. And what about writing a book? NaNoWriMo? Too Late.

I swear the days I have to remember. And NaNoWriMo is over now. That’s the least of my problems now. Am I reading some bill from my father, or am I reading the room period? Everything there is to read on the Internet, and I’m still so effing STUPID. Christmas? Could Santa bring me some positivity? Better yet, I would take some cash. A boat? Another day. I continue to bring up the flooding on the floor. And “Here I Am” at thirty-nine, needing my father to save me. Braxton was fifteen, and he wanted his daddy to save him. No! At the end of the day, he wanted my love. What would Virgil know about that? But books? I know about Backyard Dungeon 4:

Edging FORward Into Backyard Dungeon
I’m surprised I didn’t fall, being on the edge of my seat the entire time. A great man once talked about kids, animals, and women with attitudes, and I was worried about them all. Whether it is Ibseth awaiting her ever-growing family’s return. SPOILER… there are doggies. And the danger of both worlds coming for Eddie. Plus, there is a distinct lack of “Nictors.” They were there, but that word has never seemed right with me ever… But, like the previous three books, shooting, sex, and more simoleons for Eddie’s growing empire. I can’t wait to read the next one.

That was a book review, Lady Sophia. Something else to read besides how life, uh, existence is terrible. But reading anything. Virgil Comes First, Braxton

1034 Days Without B III, Day 475 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 152 ~Virgil, B’s A Roommate~

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This isn’t my home. Ain’t even my house. So, I’m a spineless, selfish, and spoiled bastard. And skeevy? That’s another story. But seeing a Doc is $175. Plus meds? B III being in a box? No, the water heater is very expensive. “Virgil, B’s A Roommate.”

Thursday, November 30, 2023

Tale 152 ~Virgil, B’s A Roommate~

1033 Days Without B III, Day 474 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Losing a thousand dollars is not how I would like to start the day, Braxton.

Water is essential to life. Do you remember when I purposely tried to end existing? Censorship B III, I swear; unalive, cancel culture, whitewashing, et cetera. Whatever people are calling it this week, everything under the sun. Speaking of which, before sunrise. I was getting into Missing Pieces… Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss. As if I would ever call you a pet. Anyway, that’s not the point. Yesterday, I was missing you, my best friend, firstborn, and always my son. But Virgil? Hell! I keep saying it. When things get really bad, I think of the worst thing ever. The day I lost you. It brings perspective.

Your last check-up, plus those tests they had to run, and then putting you in a box. Let’s not forget the small trinkets and gifts. Were they all worth a thousand bucks? I think so. A price I paid gladly, though I didn’t want to. Is that me being selfish? Hell No! I would have gone full “John Q” if it meant I could have saved your life. Not to go all Taylor Swift, but you belong with me. Maybe Christof from The Truman Show would be better for us.

“You can’t leave, (Braxton). You belong here… with me.” Now that’s me being selfish, B. And again, you ask, but Virgil? Does it help I’m not calling him “freeloader” anymore? Tomorrow, I may forget this.

But the thousand dollars that I’ve lost… Well, not quite yet. And for what? A water heater. If you could tell me something about that concerning you. It would be no problem B. This was/is your home, and I wanted you to be “Safe and Sound.” More Taylor Swift, seriously? We weren’t even big fans of hers. I was more into Ellie Goulding, to be honest, Little B. You were still here for that. But where was I today? Two words: Mia Malkova. The only girls that have been in this house since your Aunt. Tweets, Onlyfans, CashApp. Such is existence. With you, Braxton, I was/am your Dad. Now, I pay rent for an existence I would rather not live. Any day ending with Y. Money for “my” father, females, freaking everything. Uh, that’s called adulting. Virgil, B’s A Roommate

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

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The only thing I like preparing for is bed. Now, with the many, many girls I’ve been with, Ha-Ha. It’s Braxton securing the hallway, ensuring I was tucked in, and then taking his post on the corner of the bed I remember most. “B Prepared For Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 29, 2023

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And as Romans 6:23 puts it, “For the wages of sin is death.” Positivity this morning? No way.

As a matter of fact, since I’m going all biblical so late this morning at 8:00 AM, I had an epiphany. And no, not that my son is dead, and he’s never coming back. Hell, my Braxton, “I said he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” But I give more of a (crap) about him than… Hell, God the Father, my actual father, myself? And that’s where the epiphany comes in. Do you remember Inspector Echo, that I existed in five-minute increments? The world will end in five minutes, so I’m all “Three Little Birds?” “Don’t worry about a thing.” That’s what sleep is to me. Last night, I didn’t even bother turning on the sleep meditation, so I had dark thoughts. And in a word like King Theoden… DEATH!

How many pop culture references is that so far? Christianity, Mockingjay, The Killers, Bob Marley, and Return of the King. Anyway, long story short. I don’t want to wake up. And when I do to days like this… My father’s friend is replacing the water heater, which means I’m broke. I know, Inspector, I’m a broken freaking record. The floor and walls are still messed up. There’s no food save for a bucket of shrimp (like nine). And some BBQ. When’s payday again? And does it even matter? Am I beginning to understand that earworm that’s been in my head for a few days? Braxton? It’s Michael Jackson’s “Who Is It?” Particularly the chorus, “And it doesn’t seem to matter. And it doesn’t seem right.”

But nothing is. I was not prepared to be without my son. And it seems Virgil isn’t ready to be without me. He’s been awfully cuddly the past few days. Does he want the whole bed? And so what if I leave, backpack and all? I remember when I was going to the library every day, and for what? And again, I can go to the Day Job and get my slave wage. The critic isn’t going to like any of this. Take it as a result of my failure Inspector to “Be A Man.” The Macho Man had it right. Hell! Mulan did. And my boys are better men. At the same time, I want to be a dead one. But fatherhood equals manhood, right. B Prepared For Virgil

1032 Days Without B III, Day 473 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 147 ~Crying! Can’t B, Virgil…~

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I’m not a math guy. But what do you get when you dream of being a baby, plus a movie like The Golden Child. Eddie Murphy asking for advice from The Old Man. Then there’s a boy and his mom in Squid Game, then The Cress Theory. Crying! Can’t B, Virgil…

Saturday, November 25, 2023

Tale 147 ~Crying! Can’t B, Virgil…~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means the whole death and taxes stick is not a universal truth. No, for me…

A thirty-nine-year-old man? As they say, comedy comes in threes. So here are three truths.

The first, always and forever, is my son is dead. But more to the point, I won’t CONSIDER him dead. Yes, I killed him by sitting here refusing to acknowledge him. And Let Me Sign. You know my name on the dotted line in the veterinarian’s office. Braxton is dead. Secondly, while I’m asking, “Is It A Crime?” Let’s speak of my CRIMINALITY. Not a dad goes by that I don’t break the law. Hell! I’ve been lying here in my bed doing what Lu?

Well, after that, the third thing is this? I’ve been CRYING. Again I am damn near forty, Lady Lunalesca, and I’m breaking down into tears.

I have seen the ocean once… I had one picture to prove it. So, of course, the Olds took it. Lunalesca, I haven’t been welcome in their home forever. But the last time I was there, Lu, it wasn’t a picture of me anywhere. Birth certificate, diploma, awards, or whatever. How do I know if I was ever born? Do I even exist? I can point out another truth, Luna. As the song goes, “I don’t wanna die. I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all.” With all of these tears, the ocean I’ve seen could be all the crying I’ve done. Yesterday, today. Go back to when I was a child. As if I’m not now. I HAD to call my Old Man.

What! I can’t let the house flood. While I consider this place Braxton’s home. Lunalesca, this house has never been mine. And what does this mean for poor little Virgil? Reincarnation of my son. No, he is not. I couldn’t save him from the heat. And I can’t do anything about the flood. Well, other than Thoughts and Prayers. And with me as the cause of all this mess. The Hauntings of Playing God… And without Squid Game Cash Luna. That’s what I did after talking to my Old Man. I lost myself in TV and books. So sad, Lu. And more pathetic than my boys. It would explain the dreams I’ve been having… me crying and naked. The Golden Child? Crying! Can’t B, Virgil…

1028 Days Without B III, Day 469 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 146 ~Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil~

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Do I hate every day? The ones that end in Y. Black Friday? It’s not Braxton’s last day, my first E-Day, Father’s Day, etc. Black Friday should be on the low end. But without B and dealing with people. It could be worse. Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil.

Friday, November 24, 2023

Tale 146 ~Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Even though I’m not good at it. Even though it hasn’t happened yet. (Sings) Time Travel!

For the record, today is Wednesday, November 22, 2023. So it’s Thanksgiving Eve, My Lady. I have the rest of the day to think about what I’m thankful for… That I haven’t forgotten Braxton’s story. Indeed, his two novels… But the day I found out he was dying was a Friday. And unfortunately for my son, “I said, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” So no, Braxton didn’t come back on a Sunday. He died right in his bed on a steel table with me holding his little head like I was the freaking Reaper in “Tha Crossroads.” I’m thankful that no matter how bad things get, the worst day of my existence has come and gone. And what about Virgil? Someday, Lady Sophia…

But not today? As far as Wednesday, the most I’ve said to him is he’s a little fatty. And whose fault is that? Have you met my Ma? That is, if she brought food for us on Thanksgiving Day. Cross your fingers. Other than that, it’s been sleeping in daily. Inevitably, he’d put on a little pudge, not that it’s his choice with my laziness and fear of the outside world. Plus, it’s getting cold. Speaking of which, am I cold for leaving him in Braxton’s room? He could go whenever he wanted, but like father, like freeloader, I know. And it’s only getting colder. You know what I mean since we’re talking today. People? There should be stories of people hurting me, Black Friday.

But let the world do its worst. I had my son euthanized. Hell! If I ever get back to writing. No, Lady Sophia! I killed my son. He started dying on a Wednesday when I was so damn angry, and I didn’t want to hear about his problems. Indifferent. As I gathered him up in my arms and took a nap. And now I’m mad again because that thought alone should be enough to stop me from napping. Even the phone asks if I want a nap meditation session. I won’t be getting one of those Friday. And would I need one if it wasn’t for the Day Job? I ain’t buying anything today. Unless Braxton’s life was on sale… Again? Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil

1027 Days Without B III, Day 468 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 145 ~Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton~

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What sound does a turkey make? “It’s turkey time. Gobble, gobble.” Personally, I’m more JLAW than JLO, but anyway. Braxton and I didn’t have many Thanksgiving traditions. I hope my Ma sends food. Virgil dreams the same. “Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton.”

Thursday, November 23, 2023

Tale 145 ~Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton~

1026 Days Without B III, Day 467 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sure you went all “U Name It” wherever you are. Now Virgil and I…

Well, Virgil might as well be a turkey because he’s not doing any talking. But I’m guessing he knows what day it is, considering he’s been extra cuddly this morning. And look at me being a meanie, pushing him by his big belly away from me. But at least I got up “on time.” And what does that mean? I’ve got nowhere to go today. Will Ma come out today?

Your grandmommy, B, hasn’t failed yet, but as the song goes, “What’s My Age Again?” Next to your death, getting older is my prevalent thought. Two worst days of existence. But shouldn’t we be talking about one of the best of yours? Thanksgiving is Christmas. At least to you, it was/is. To me, Another Day

I can’t even think about turkey or ham with that energy shot I took an hour ago. I did mention that I’m wide awake. Woke, as it were. Should I watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade? I’m at a loss as to what to do today. We had no traditions, B III. Nothing at all…

I’ve even gone back to last year, and it looks like I was in the same place or thereabouts.

The freaking Day Job. Tomorrow will be Hell! So I’ll spend most of the day wishing I was a deep-fried turkey. Watching people burn down their houses is one of the many things I’ve been up to this morning. One of the more… innocent. Then, Karlee Grey in “Native Passion.” Eww.

And to think there was a time I was rather glad you got into trouble so I had alone time.

I would give it all up if I could have you back again, Braxton. That would be something to be thankful for. But honestly, I feel like the Native Americans in the aftermath of meeting the pilgrims. No Bueno. Like the film Silent Hill, “Your Faith Brings Death.” Offending everyone everything today? Turkeys, Christians, Ma, Native Americans… All the reasons I’m going to fry, roast, um, bake? I’m going to Hell, but I’m not a cook B. It’s why I’ll be thankful for your grandmommy. I’m thankful Virgil is alive. Always and forever, I’m thankful and damn proud you’re my boy. Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

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To B III (be free) of pain; there was a lot less of it when I was sleeping. And Braxton would watch over me. He felt the same lying on my chest as I’d read a book. If only a book taught how to make the pain go. Like I’d read it. “Hurt? B III, Virgil”

Wednesday, November 22, 2023

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But Virgil is safe and sound. Braxton? Well, he’s better without me. That’s the only thing that matters.

At least I’m not indifferent. That’s what killed my son. Or angry? I hid my anger from my son… for the most part. No, Inspector, today I’m in pain, and that’s no secret, any day. Hell! I haven’t been without pain since I turned seven. If I ever talk to another psychiatrist… for real this time. If they ever ask me when did the pain start? It started on that seventh E-Day in 1991. Picture a younger me dancing like an idiot because of cussing.

“What the Hell is going on?” Doesn’t sound too bad, does it, Inspector? Being seven… Today, I’m about two months into being thirty-nine. And I woke up feeling my age. Braxton was so much older at fifteen. To join him…

One of the reasons I haven’t is because, like I was telling Dear Future Wife, Tuesday. With all the pain he felt, my son, firstborn, my B, fought with all he had, even against me. Braxton wanted to live. And he would endure the physical pain and ignore the mental. Like father, like son. I will take the pains in my body because whatever’s in my mind is worse. The truth, Inspector. But at least Braxton and I own it. Every freaking day I will. Do you remember how I said I like Bruce Banner, AKA the Hulk, for his truth? “That’s my secret Cap. I’m always angry.” Inspector, I’m always hurting, horny, and ready to raise Hell, which is usually why I choose horniness.

My pain and my perchance for violence are the worst. But being horny, My Dirty Little Secret is the lesser evil. And without that “release,” what’s left, Inspector? Hurting, Hell! Is that why I was out like a light yesterday? Sleep to me is like playing dead. You know I have a problem with laziness. However, I also have a big problem with not getting laid. Um, eww! Everything I do revolves around my bed as it was for my son, who only lay there —dying in his little bed, which I have now hidden in the second bathroom. Inevitable. What? That I would put B’s things away. Or that I’d complain about a lack of sleep, sex, stupid energy drinks. Hurt? B III, Virgil

1025 Days Without B III, Day 466 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will