Tag: Thoughts

Tale 093 ~No Scar Is The Same~

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“Cause it hurts when you hurt somebody.” And I don’t want to do that… That’s a lie. When it comes to certain people, pain is fun. But I never wanted to hurt B III, 2V, or scar people. And how’s that working out. Chicks dig scars? No Scar Is The Same.

Monday, October 2, 2023

Tale 093 ~No Scar Is The Same~

Three-Hundredth And Eleventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… This means I must always be hurting somebody. And yet, I’ll play the victim. But these scars…

Heart, Mind, Body, And Soul. I want to say I don’t have a heart. But a lie against B? Madam, I remember when they told me B had a Heart Murmur. I have his medications. And twice every day… at least once (sniffles), I call him for “Medicine Time.” But in the end, it was his kidneys that failed. I failed Braxton, my son, prince. Hell! The littlest God, Madam. And talk about not being healed or leaving a scar. A broken heart, 974 Days. Well, by the time you read this, anyway. I’m way in the past. With Time Travel, it’s Sunday, September 24, 2023. Still in the month of E-Day. Oh! You know we’re going to talk about that. And thirty-nine still sucks.

My head hurts. But the only scars I ever hear about came from my sister when she cut my forehead. Or whichever poor lady cuts my hair. As I don’t take care of myself, sigh. The real damage is my mind, though. Have you noticed how I talk to myself? Hell! The fact that I do talk to myself at all. And about what? How Republicans scar us all daily. My body, though. I’ve noticed… yeah I still have The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident tag. There’s also the memory of The Cherry Collision. What do I have in the closet, along with every outfit for potential partners? I call myself as a sadist. But I’m just a sucker for pain. And what about my soul?

Without Braxton’s death and the ninth circle, I’d be headed for the second with my LUST. This blog, The Pic Phenomenon, character customizations, lingerie purchases…

My poor Ma… from my mother’s womb, untimely ripped. A scar I’m sure she bares. Madam, that’s something I wish I could heal. Again, we’ve moved beyond E-Day for another year, but if I had my way… All I’ve ever done is cause her pain; I know it. Hmm. Then there’s my son, my granddad’s funeral, the fur baby I adopted. Virgil doesn’t cry… Not until I leave the house anyway. And for now, he must be bored out of his mind, poor guy. Me? Besides billionaire status, I’m worried and pained. So many scars… No Scar Is The Same

Tale 086 ~Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving~

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I had a “phase” when I asked God to save me. There were those days I asked God to save B. Like the song goes, He’s My Son. And what about saving myself? “I’m the bad guy, duh.” I need saving from the radio. Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving.

Monday, September 25, 2023

Tale 086 ~Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving~

Three-Hundredth And Tenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… so say it with me… You’re No Hero! I’m far from it. But Ma’am, I know one.

Okay… a few more. But I, as always, want to talk about my son, who was/is my hero. B. Be my hero… get it? Yeah, I’ve never been one for comedy as I’m not one to be brave ha. The comedian and caped crusader are dead. I wish I could add my cowardice, Madam. But no. My courage died alongside my son. And what about Virgil? He ain’t Braxton. Madam, my son was/is a big, brave dog… in spirit. What drew me to Virgil was the fact that I saw fear. I am my father’s son and don’t want to be um… scary. I mean, both Virgil and I are afraid to exist. But I saved him. What does that make me? A big hero, Ma’am. Ain’t we just. Firefly?

In case you were wondering where that bit of diatribe came from. Plus, censorship. Critics. One more reason I ain’t a hero and more like a Republican. Won’t I defend free speech? There’s plenty of which I should be fighting for every day. “It’s a wicked world that we live in. It’s cruel and unforgiving,” the song says. That’s why we need heroes and champions. I need my son. But when he needed me? Virgil needs me? A hero born and one in the making. What does it take, Madam? Daddies are heroes, or they should be. But with V. Hell, with existence in general? “Wish I’d been a prom KING, fighting for the title,” I swear this pop culture.

Because today, I would instead pay off a villain and possible racist in Logan Jacobs. Speaking with Lady Sophia this morning, I said I needed more audiobooks. Am I Wrong? This Is America. So that means, in one way or another, I’m paying off a racist somewhere down the line. And while I’m no Republican or one to stick to the status quo… yeah, right. I want to play the villain. Or should I say antihero, depending on your definition? I could say I’m giving myself too much credit since all I want, I’d do right here in bed. Madam, I want to write books, run a brothel, and make “specific” movies. Sheets become capes? For Braxton, myself, a wife? Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving

967 Days Without B III, Day 408 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 079 ~Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings~

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I’ve kept V alive for 401 days. B had 15 years. Now, what made B happy? Comfy spots, cuddling with his Aunt’s Yabbos, and counting the minutes until his Dad arrived home. I survived 15 E-Days with him. But Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings.

Monday, September 18, 2023

Tale 079 ~Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings~

Three-Hundredth And Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… But I have seen that billionaires are the cringiest, crabbiest, and crappiest people. They don’t die. Submarine…

So does that mean I want to be happy? Today, Sunday, September 17, 2023, I long to die, Madam. It will be no different by the time you read this. But “Love and Happiness,” huh? Love died with my little boy, my Braxton. And Happiness? The seventh E-Day. I think. I survived that one and the thirty-ninth, too. Somehow, someway, I’m surviving. But for what? As I told Lady Lunalesca yesterday. Pop culture has been bouncing around inside my head. “My” Existence is a mix of 2009’s The Road, Half-Life 2, 1984, and Equilibrium. Sigh. As the song plays, “I keep asking God what I’m for. And he tells me, “Gee, I’m not sure,” sigh. I’m doing a lot of that, Madam. I’m still breathing.

So, shouldn’t I show some gratitude? That’s not one of the meditations I’ve done today. And I got enough gratitude with those motivational speeches I once played daily. Ha-ha! From wanting to move forward in this existence. To seek only the will to endure. Endure and Survive? But don’t plan on being happy for the love of everything, Madam. Hell! I love Braxton like pancakes, but he didn’t make me happy. I was/am proud of him, Madam. I was a Papa. I pounded the pavement of this existence. That’s because I promised him that I would keep him safe. And here I go, crying again because how’d that turn out? Madam, with all the stories I tell myself. Braxton didn’t die happy. Brave, proud, loved…

But Happy… That’s a question I don’t ask the Man in the Mirror anymore. I don’t ask how to survive either, to be fair. It’s what I do? It’s like that fable “The Scorpion and the Frog.” But neither of them survived? One more reason I’m so “in love with dyin’,” as it were. “We are The Walking Dead,” “We are the Dead,” and that’s how it is, Madam. Life, Living, Love? No! Every day, I rise from the dead. And I move like everyone else towards… I don’t know. But zombies, the infected, and the stupid. Viruses Madam. Stupidity has infected me. And the cure? One day, I’ll find out, Madam, if I survive. Do I want to? Knowing Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings

960 Days Without B III, Day 401 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will