Tale 012 ~2V, BIII, Will Zero~

It’s all about the numbers. The only ones I have been looking at are on the phone. A 45-minute nap? I’m sorry, 10 more minutes, no 20, how about 30? And Virgil isn’t the one right now. Why don’t I look at the hours I’m working? “2V, BIII, Will Zero.”

Thursday, July 13, 2023

Tale 012 ~2V, BIII, Will Zero~

893 Days Without B III, Day 334 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how, I’m speaking to you on Sunday, July 9, 2023. My day was…

Well, whatever, I would say B, with whatever app I’m on. I’m simplistic, senile, and STUPID. I hate my age right now. And it’s scary to think that I wish with all my time travel. If I could go back in time, before your death, before we met… Existence, Living? Hell! Plop me down in any ole math class, and let me start over again. I need to try B. Anyway, we’ll mark today as another failure in doing anything. And by the time you read this… These days I want to cuddle up close to you and blabber away. Of course, I can’t do that with Virgil right now. Nor would I want to. He got in trouble anyway. Braxton, you remember those days.

As you can see, I’m still counting yours at 893. Harder days are coming. And I don’t mean like you humping your toys. That monster hair dryer or stick of dynamite of yours, B III. That reminds me that I should pick that up. Some toys Virgil shouldn’t inherit, Braxton. Why am I being so “mean” to him these days? He’s my second chance. And didn’t I save his life? It’s all about the number Little B. And 334 days in, to be honest, we have yet to bound at all. I am trying to walk him more. I’m uncomfortable with his leash and collar. So that must mean I care some. I don’t want him running off. And if he were to get hurt?

Money is the root of all evil. But it is also my biggest concern with all this time off, Braxton. Well, next to crying about you. Better my tears than anything else. I’ve lost track of those and other things I should be ashamed of. Unscheduled lunches, napping. Anything to avoid the world of the living. It’s sad that it even includes Virgil, Braxton. Again walking around the backyard like the living dead or infected to avoid reading, ha. More dead fur babies or whatever Kindle thing popped up. There’s no money for books. But I have plenty right in front of me. Uh, two I wrote for you. I can’t count them as wins. Well, if I edited, published… Scoreboard! 2V, BIII, Will Zero

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 011 ~Happiness’s A B, Virgil~

Negative? Have you taken a look outside the window? Or turn on the TV, computer, or phone. I swear screens are everywhere. That’s why I’m making more room for audiobooks. But with all these pics of my boys. I should be happy? Happiness’s A B, Virgil.

Wednesday, July 12, 2023

Tale 011 ~Happiness’s A B, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But is that happiness? I should start my day with the truth, Inspector though it hurts.

My son is dead. God, a lie is so much simpler. I am a billionaire, ha-ha. Or I am dead already. Inspector, how about I am happy? Again, simplicity. I haven’t got that remark out of my head from a couple of days ago about being negative. But happiness? I feel a bit sick. Inspector, that could be the energy shot I took. Please! I do that at the Day Job every day, don’t I. Does having the Day Job make me happy? Ill Will. Infected, Insane, Incredulous of “Life Itself.” Do you remember that movie? Of all the things that come up, dear Echo, you know, like when I do those meditations. Or when I listened to motivations. And that one moment in school.

Happiness is not a thing I find. Do you find it or make it at all, Inspector? It’s 7:05 AM. And here I am, sitting in the center of the bed, trying to write it out. It’s hard, dammit. I got to stop doing “that.” Once again, I’m censoring myself because of some no-name troll. There is nothing I can say that wouldn’t be thought of as a negative Inspector. Existence. While I was lying here and thinking about what I wanted, um… Movement, Space, Time. I saw this meme before. And I don’t have TIME to find it. But it said something like this. “You told me to be happy.” What was it, you ask? It was a coffin in a graveyard. Oh yeah.

Okay, I can’t talk about my son. I’m trying. Yes, really, not to speak about “relations.” And people suck. What would be acceptable to everyone else? Negativity is not allowed! Inspector, I want to move something other than my fingers every day. And that’s the bare minimum. I want to walk with Virgil without fear of him running away. Sigh. There are several things I want to move on from. (Cough) Braxton. Grief, rage, bedrooms… Inspector, I don’t want to worry about that space between me and my pants. Always. E, I want to stop feeling whatever when V takes up the center of the bed wanting to be close. I want to quit wasting time and find or make happiness… Happiness’s A B, Virgil

892 Days Without B III, Day 333 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 007 ~Braxton’s Doggone Insanity Virgil~

Last week? Why I’m not a millionaire or billionaire… Every Day Is Exactly the Same. Wake up late, conversate, take a break, masturbate, life to fake, accept my fate, dream my mistakes. Wash, rinse, repeat. Braxton’s Doggone Insanity Virgil.

Saturday, July 8, 2023

Tale 007 ~Braxton’s Doggone Insanity Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But I think to myself I should state facts —Braxton’s dead. I’m wrong. I like blowjobs…

Hell is repetition. Whether what I say is the truth or a lie. Hell! Why not a little of both… Who am I now, Erwin Schrodinger? Lady Lunalesca, don’t look up Hell in the morning. So I say I’m a billionaire going on seven years now. Not always. But I don’t want to look it up. I’ll go back to searching for porn. I’ve been sitting here listening to Balance. Meditation runs amuck and all that. I can’t say that it’s been helping. And yet here we are, Lady Lunalesca. And why? I tell everyone how many days Braxton’s been gone. But how many days have I been meditating? Ninety-eight days, 115 hrs, and 59 mins at last count. And? “Insane in da membrane,” Lunalesca.

For Hell is the impossibility of reason, Lady Lunalesca. Do you remember when I was all in my motivational phase? The way I would burn through Spotify for inspiring words. Speaking of which, I don’t have enough money for audiobooks. I do, but you know what I mean, Lady Lunalesca. Yesterday I was talking about that 50/30/20 Rule. Money spent? Lunalesca, you don’t want to know. But plugging my ears to listen to people’s prattling. All because I don’t want to hear other people talking all day. Their insanity, madness. Then at the same time, I’ll complain that my ears are all stopped up with earwax. I know Lady Lunalesca; that’s some TMI, right? Braxton was so loud, but to hear my little boy B.

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” They say one of the wisest men ever said that. So here I am, trying to be a dad again with V. At the onset of our conversations, Lady Lunalesca, I could be saying one more thing. Please! Not those mean words. “He’s not my son.” Again who am I, Lady Lunalesca? Looking into the mirror (eww), I have yet to become Joel Miller from The Last of Us. The world he lived in would drive anyone crazy. And yet he kept going. He tried, you know.

“You’re not my [son]. And I sure as hell ain’t your dad.” Joel Miller, TLOU

But “Who Wants To Live Forever?” Even in Hell. Every one! Braxton, Virgil, even me. Fact or question to meditate on. Braxton’s Doggone Insanity Virgil

888 Days Without B III, Day 329 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 006 ~Virgil Has No B~

I’m crushing on one of the chicks in “Buried Deep in Our Hearts.” When she told a few of her coworkers to shut their pie-holes about her cat. But I was so angry I went back to reading about the world’s end like losing a fur baby is. Virgil Has No B.

Friday, July 7, 2023

Tale 006 ~Virgil Has No B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so why not try to get off this godforsaken rock? Too busy getting off, aren’t I?

Heh-heh, Day One Ish… And yet 887 days without my son. Hell! If I were a better man, I’d go the same amount of days with my dick in my pants, my hands… whatever, Sophia. As you damn well know, I am not a good person. But how? Do you mean besides the death of my son B III? And there’s the fact that I can’t call Virgil that. Some say that makes me “normal,” not referring to a dog as my child. I couldn’t read “Buried Deep in Our Hearts.” No worries… (which I haven’t said in a “long, long time”); I will sometime soon. Thursday though… Well, we’ll get to that. What about my boy, though? Virgil’s here. Do I treat him like Braxton or “The New Guy?”

Speaking of movies from 2002… Sigh, to think I had such “promise,” Lady Sophia. Nope! But what about Braxton’s book? Or any of the books that I’ve written, to be honest. There’s even all these conversations that we’ve been having. The “Tales” have only just begun, Soph, as far as my writing goes. How do I describe how I feel about it? It’s bad, okay. Hell! It is somewhere between Mike Enslin in 1408. And Leo Biederman in Deep Impact. Endings. If there is one semi-good thing about today, I’m not feeling suicidal desperation now. Don’t get me wrong, like the song “Teen Idle,” I’m “Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal.” But that’s an everyday thing for me. Again being honest

Only there are so many things to read, Sophia. Suppose I stick with the 50/30/20 Rule. I was drawn to it this morning. Sometimes I think these ideas are all messages from my little B, ha-ha. And sometimes, it’s a crappy Kindle challenge. As I said, the book I was reading was starting to piss me off. And the challenge had a quick read on it Ark by Veronica Roth. Divergent? The last thing I need to think about. Sigh, Shailene Woodley’s tits on this AM. Spend money on books, not boobies, isn’t that right, Lady Sophia. Because shopping on a Saturday is, as Todd would put it, “No Bueno.” Life without Braxton’s the same. Again Virgil’s here. But you know, Virgil Has No B.

887 Days Without B III, Day 328 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 005 ~BIII Of Procrastination Virgil~

I’ll do anything to avoid getting out of bed. Yet I’m procrastinating when it even comes to that. “Success, no, I should be playing “Lazy Ass.” Heaven’s where you find it. Still rather be with my boy. But to honor him? BIII Of Procrastination Virgil.

Thursday, July 06, 2023

Tale 005 ~BIII Of Procrastination Virgil~

886 Days Without B III, Day 327 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Since I’m Time Traveling, I’ll give anything for this day not to begin. You know.

Meditation? Hell! I remember when all that entailed was coming back to the house, scooping you up, and falling to bed. Yeah, that’s called sleeping. I think. And I’m lying. There was that time I had a subscription to Brainbuddy. Something I couldn’t tell you. To be honest, it’s tough talking to you now. I would rather be doing anything else like I was yesterday evening. I miss you so damn much. Your pictures Braxton, getting a tattoo, and all the stuff I still have yet to buy in 886 days. I’m lazy, broke, or depressed. Take your pick. All of the above. So many effing excuses. What about Virgil, you ask? I don’t know what to do B. Procrastination? Braxton, did I almost say, like father, like son? Never!

Both of those are pretty awful. If I’m being honest. To claim Virgil feels like I’m adding to my Treachery. If I don’t? Then why did I bother bringing him with me 327 days ago? Braxton, today is Tuesday, July 4, 2023, Independence Day. A bad day for dogs. Well, a lot of furry companions. You weren’t fond of it. We would sit cuddled together as we waited for the world to explode. That makes me like everyone else. Doesn’t it? Waiting, procrastinating, obsessing over everything. Even now, Virgil’s shaking against my leg B. I hope I can wait to move him for a while. He just wants to be comforted. So I hope. Braxton, that’s the mistake I made with you. I thought you were annoying. Sick? No, dying.

That Thursday, I knew I had to get you to a Doc, and for what? Like father, like son. You made the boatman wait a little longer. Didn’t you, my prince? Procrastinating unto death. A thought. I’m doing the same. Yesterday I cleared out my inbox and dumped my pictures. And I even got around to reorganizing the desktop and for what. Conversations? Well, better known as writing to Inspector Echo. And to you. Madness, rage, effing hatred. But, never towards you or the girls but at myself. If it isn’t the world ending. It’s seeing these people being motivated, making money, their marriages, and making babies. “Here comes success.” Sending me a song already? Asking, better telling Virgil and me; BIII Of Procrastination Virgil.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 004 ~Letters B To V~

How long will getting B’s name etched on my arm take? B R A… I wish I could say I’ve been busy. Sleeping or organizing… and no, I don’t mean Braxton’s pictures. And what about V? I can’t tell him anything. But these words (sigh). Letters B To V.

Wednesday, July 05, 2023

Tale 004 ~Letters B To V~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And yet I couldn’t spell Billionaire without help. And Tale? Monday, June 26, 2023… For now…

That’s when I began speaking to you right this second. By the time you read this, I hope I’m still calling these conversations Tales. I won’t finish today because… Mathematics. Ask me how long it took me to do the math on what day it was today. “I feel STUPID!” I’ve been getting that a lot these days. And yet I read every day. I’ve told you before. I’m still not any wiser. Hell! I wonder what I’m reading now. A damn Kindle Challenge, ha? I need to try reading about the money that’s in the bank. Oh! WWE Money in the Bank, Echo. How do I believe those stories? Or how bullies get what they deserve in the end. So excited I hit Braxton…

Have I told you about that E? I was watching YouTube and swinging around everywhere. One more thing to apologize to Braxton for. And what about Virgil? Where’s V anyway? I forgot how to be a Dad. But what I’m ashamed of the most… at least today. Uh, the porn? You know that’s my thing Echo. If only I got paid for it… But no. It’s been all about burning cash or trying not to. Then again, I am time-traveling. Emails, bitcoin, the future? Anyway, I was trying to do something… and as I was telling Braxton this afternoon. Uh, there’s freedom, being free, and that is something these people never said. My ignorance. Sometimes it surprises even me. Listening with the wrong head… Always

And the right one? It’s telling me to get out of bed and get a life instead of this existence.

I’m right back here. It’s as if I haven’t moved a muscle. Coming back to you, it’s now Tuesday, July 4, 2023. Happy Independence Day! What is one holiday I celebrate? Is there even one? I cry or seek comfort; once upon a time, there was one where I conned people. Can I call it that? Like calling it Emergence, Existence, or Extinction Day? You can guess which one of those I want. To be a Dad, get a life, or like the song “Make Me Wanna Die,” hmm. That’s nothing I can tell my boys, my “friends.” But the words. Letters B To V

885 Days Without B III, Day 326 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 365 ~Virgil, These Endings B…~

Why aren’t I a billionaire yet… A millionaire, at least? It’s because I write like this after six years. It’s getting worse. “Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels, Chronicles, Sagas,” what’s next, hmm. I don’t know. But tomorrow. “Virgil, These Endings B

Saturday, July 1, 2023

Saga 365 ~Virgil, These Endings B…~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now because that’s the way my existence… No. My life is supposed to end. Discovered immortality yet…

If I had Lady Lunalesca, I would have given it to my son. Well, enough of it because at the end of the day, “Who Wants To Live Forever?” Hell! I’d have said goodbye, Lunalesca. And that was last night. Anyway, back to my “point.” I would have given Braxton enough so that we would have gone together. The good death, as they say, and a perfect victory Lu. It even beats out what Tyrion said “Belly full of wine, girl’s mouth around my cock. But of course, we never saw him die, so we don’t know. And you would think I’d be better at this “last words thing” after reading “Looking for Alaska.” It’s only “The Closing Of The Year. How many is that…

Lesson, Episode, Log, Gospel, Chronicle, Saga. So six years? Yep, what a waste, Dear Lu. And all because my “friendship” ended with the Basic Bitch? I don’t know anymore, ha. I’m not going back to read all that, either. Funny how I expect other people to want to at all. And no, that’s not me complaining like on TIBU. Do you remember that? This Is By Us? If I could do it all over again… Hell! I have too much to do today. Ending existence… I’ve said before my aunt had me all wrong about me wanting to destroy everything. Lunalesca, ask me why I dream of an apocalypse, then. “Whoever saves one life saves the world entire.” Schindler’s List, the Talmud, Pop Culture Whore.

“That’s Me!” that’s from Ask Ashley. “I’ll miss the start as long as I’m here at the end.” That’s from the movie Troy. And “all of it. It’s all true.” I’ve saved a life… As effed up as I am, I’m still here. And while this is the end of another “writing” year. Still breathing. And with these breaths, what do I have to say for myself? Well, other than yelling at Virgil to show some courage. As always, he is not my son. Now that’s a last word Lunalesca. Braxton. To say my son’s name. Now that’s a fitting end, Lu. To take a life is to destroy the world entire. Better worlds… never, other, alternative. Words to speak before… Virgil, These Endings B…

881 Days Without B III, Day 322 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 364 ~Dying To B Virgil~

I was dying to talk about something… but now I’m living to or for… Hell! I only exist, but I wonder if Braxton… there I go again. I meant, does Virgil think he’s living the life. Maybe if I mowed the lawn. There are bodies to hide. Dying To B Virgil.

Friday, June 30, 2023

Saga 364 ~Dying To B Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So I can lie here all day. Or identify as a dog. Going Titanic diving, hmm…

Is that in poor taste? Bad form? I would say I’m just “Doing Me.” You know I’m just doing my thing. Hell! As if I know about any of that. Boy, Braxton, big-breasted babes… “Bodies Bodies Bodies,” and no, Lady Sophia. I haven’t seen the movie, but it gives me ideas. I should watch Spontaneous again, along with this movie and Looking for Alaska. I finished the book yesterday. Was Alaska’s death an accident or a suicide, Lady Sophia? All I know is this one story I keep telling myself about Braxton. My little boy was murdered. And I guess it’s hard to type with all the blood on my hands. And with other crimes… If I become a billionaire, I won’t start trophy hunting.

My furry little boy was enough for me. But “The Most Dangerous Game…” Uh, yeah… Did I say I wanted to hunt human beings for sport? The world, my writing… WAR… Lady Sophia, I hope I can pick a better word than “Bawitdaba.” Only with my luck, like I can attest today. I didn’t mean to write any of this dribble at all. Zombies, friend. Namely, a zombie apocalypse is what I want to rant about, to read, and the rage I have felt at myself these past few days. To choose death over everything, including despair. The only time I have despaired over death was, again, losing Braxton. But how best to love me more? That’s what I was thinking yesterday. To love me?

I think to myself that Braxton would rather die than see me unhappy. But then again, he would instead live than see me unhappy. That’s why he fought death for so damn long, Lady Sophia. I say that my indifference killed him. But as he lay dying… nothing but love. I’m in love with death, My Lady. In particular, that of my dog, the decisions of a damned world, and every orgasm my dick provides me. Let the apocalypse come. Inevitable, am I right? The end and a sex joke. Again this did not go at all how I figured. At least it kept me from talking about, well… I spoke of Alaska Young’s death. Tomorrow? One more year of writing. Dying To B Virgil

880 Days Without B III, Day 321 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 363 ~Virgil, We’ll B Free~

If I wanted freedom, I’d have followed my son. I wish there had been a button… Something like Sonia Levitin’s “The Cure.” To be recycled with my twin, brother, best friend, and kid. When he was free, I asked what have I become? “Virgil, We’ll B Free”

Thursday, June 29, 2023

Saga 363 ~Virgil, We’ll B Free~

879 Days Without B III, Day 320 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You know me. “It’s “Times Like These,” I want to wrap around you and sleep.

Fucking Hell! Pardon my language, Little B. It’s… well, I won’t say funny or fine. Nowhere near. So yeah FUCK is the correct word. It’s fucked up that I held you that Wednesday afternoon and fell asleep. Then on Sunday, January 31, 2021, I held you as you died. People would say you were euthanized. Put to sleep. I, with veterinarians, set you free. Talk about something I’m never going to let go. The moment I freed myself from the bed is the moment I… Again Baby B, I don’t know what to say. You’re not a burden, ever. Braxton, it’s like the holy rollers say, you know. Pick up your cross and follow Jesus. “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” You’re way better.

Only that doesn’t stop me now. Does it? You know what I mean. When you were locked in your room because you did wrong. Or when I was in the shower in the morning. Getting it all out of my system is better because that’s the only alone time I would get. Right? After the Day Job, I’d be way too tired. And you’d get pissed if I showered at night B III. Hell! I was going to the movies, and sometimes I would even bring your Aunt. Speaking of which, you should go check on her and bring her lost fur babies. If you’ve met…, she’s having a hard time. It’s freedom she doesn’t want to have. Free of love… That can’t be, B.

This brings me back to you. I can be free of my grief and still love you… It’s like I’m Brooks Hatlen. I’m free, but I don’t know how to start over. Will was here, then what? Fucking porn addict! Like I wasn’t before? But with Virgil afraid to leave your room. And didn’t I mention how long I stay in bed? Even now, time travel. Monday, June 26, 2023. Little B, the fucking Day Job, man! That’s something I’ll never be free of; I’m afraid to say B. Institutionalized. A strange way to say employed. Euthanized? Spell “Freed” Braxton. Wasn’t writing going to do that? How about finding Virgil? Big ole’ titties? I’m hopeless! My freedom was keeping you. Now? Virgil, We’ll B Free

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 362 ~Ways To B, Virgil~

A way to be? There is another way to look at that. Why do you think I’m so drawn to the dead in the first place? Retail? An existence full of last words? Lying on your back to make a living… That’s not a dig. But I am digging for Ways To B, Virgil.

Wednesday, June 28, 2023

Saga 362 ~Ways To B, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I envy my dead kid. If he came back, he’d bite my ass for that.

Only this morning, I woke up to Castle Walls. I mean the song from T.I. and Christina Aguilera. I can’t call this place a castle, A roof over my head that I can’t afford, Inspector. Speaking of which, the warped floor. Hell! One more thing to add to the list. Even when I’m not making mine, the world says to take a breather. Well, no. But there are more lists. There was going to work yesterday. And seeing they reinstituted the headphones/earbuds ruling. All I heard was, how much worse can this place get, Echo? There’s all the stuff I had to do yesterday… again, no. Inspector, stupidity is spreading. Or is that my data? Since Spotify took it upon itself. Making me a playlist

“Lonely Sad Mix.” Hell! Braxton ain’t here. But again, he’s sending songs, Inspector. Not these. And Virgil has his furry problems… “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me,” Inspector. Perhaps if Virgil wasn’t here… And that’s the thing. Even though he’s alive and well… Not that I can say much. Braxton was/is my son, and I was ready to leave him for the Great Beyond. How about the Great Perhaps? It’s not helping that I’m reading about Alaska Young’s suicide or not. Yes, I have to finish the book, “Looking for Alaska.” I have three more days. And another Kindle Challenge list. If I had my way, it’d be back to reading about dead fur babies, the dead, sex…

An effed-up list of words Inspector. But you know the words I want to say. Only if I string the words together… Cops at the door. The door I don’t own. They’re here because… There is always the death of my son. The punishment I deserve. I’m still breathing…. Inspector, it can be for one of the many crimes I’ve done. Hacking, Perverting, Threatening. Only myself with that last one. I WANT TO JOIN MY LITTLE BOY. Because I don’t know how else to say it. I want to sleep for a “Long, Long, Time.” As Todd would put it, Echo AHEM, No Homo. Please, I’m too busy looking at yaboos. But horny’s not how I want to be. Inspector, Rageful, Depressed, Fearful… or um dead. Ways To B, Virgil

878 Days Without B III, Day 319 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will