Tag: Tradition

Tale 046 ~Virgil, We’ll Be Listening~

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What big ears you have. Is the hole in the fence bigger? Is the phone loud enough.? Then there’s Virgil, who never makes a sound unless I walk out the door. How long do the neighbors have to listen to him? If I will. “Virgil, We’ll Be Listening”

Wednesday, August 16, 2023

Tale 046 ~Virgil, We’ll Be Listening~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So I haven’t been complaining about my ears, the fence, Virgil vomiting on the phone… Uh?

Hell! I should be ashamed that it took him “almost” doing that to get my attention to do something. And after a few days, how is life for him now? If anything, the fact that he’s alive after one year here. Gotcha Day wasn’t big, ha. He had a bath and brush. A new bed? No! If I’m going to spend money… It’s going towards putting my firstborn, my Braxton, in a box. And what about the new one I’m supposed to be buying? If I had money… And that would take getting out of bed. Or how about, I don’t know. Trying to be happy. Is that from B? I wasn’t happy when he was here, but I was better. And then his silence.

What I wouldn’t give for a bout of silence. If anything, shouldn’t this be the most humiliating thing in existence? The fact that I still talk to myself. Imaginary friends. Pretending? At least with Braxton, I could pretend. But even saying V’s name these days. And that’s if I’m not busy moaning… It’s more like I let the girls I watch moan in one way or another. But I’m trying, Inspector. Every day, it gets a little bit “harder.” Really! Considering I’m time traveling now, Monday, August 14, 2023. It’s been 17 days for now. That’s all the bellyaching. Or rather, belly scraping, you’ll hear from me. Not even edging. But there is plenty to be upset about since we’re talking now. The Day Job?

Can I listen to the instructions at work? Don’t be STUPID. I’m not a visual guy there. But all about the visual lady’s Yabbos, but she’s gone. At least she told me she was leaving for a time. God knows I wish I could leave forever. Take from that what you will, Echo, I know. And speaking of which, the things I’ve been saying or, more to the fact, what I’ve been writing about. Will you please understand, Inspector? My mind is about three things. There’s my boys —namely Braxton. There’s making bucks. And, of course, anything to do with making babies. Oh! These three things are like a mixed drink that “messes” me up. 99 Problems. Virgil, me, B’s ghost. Virgil, We’ll Be Listening

927 Days Without B III, Day 368 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 045 ~Virgil’s Love B…eing Determined~

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Is it too much or not enough? Love. Where is the love? That’s not hard. It was at the vet’s on Sunday, January 31, 2021. It was in ashes on February 4. And sitting on my nightstand by the 10th. Friends, Ma, uh Virgil… Virgil’s Love B…eing Determined.

Tuesday, August 15, 2023

Tale 045 ~Virgil’s Love B…eing Determined~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I love the holidays. Now… Juneteenth is not a useless holiday, Vivek Ramaswamy. Scumbag!

Or that’s what my Ma would call him when she tries not to curse ha-ha. Somebody got on me about that today, a critic, Wednesday, August 9, 2023. So yes, I’m time-traveling once again, love. But didn’t I tell Inspector Echo that it’s a miracle I can even get out of bed? At all. Ever. Hell! I’m impressed Virgil can hold his bladder that long. B was/is much the same. But seeing how this is supposed to be the future, I wonder how “Gotcha Day” went with Virgil. I was going to say B III, honest to God. I’m hoping for a good Thursday. It’s Payday. I remember when I had my old Day Job. That getting paid was a testament to a wasted existence.

There is nothing to celebrate most days. Last night, right out of the blue, I was reminded to take some time off for E-Day. Emergence, Existence, Extinction. Level Thirty-nine soon. Baby Doll, not to go all Spice Girls, “If you wanna be my lover…” But I will never accept E-Day, especially now. It wouldn’t bother me. Not in the slightest if I weren’t here for it. Seventeen? Hell, younger than that should have been the end for me. All my billions, if I could have a Terminator built… I’d want it to go all Judgment Day. “I’ll Always Love My Mama.” As I’ve talked about before. My Aunt told me that I wanted the world destroyed. No profit in that. The Talmud says something like, to save a life is to save the world entire…

Then, to take a life is to destroy the world entirely, then yes. But only me. Do I love people? First and foremost, I love my family: you, my Braxton, the pancakes we made together. There’s my Ma, the freeloader living in the house… I should stop calling Virgil that. There’s a fondness for “my” little sister and my nephews. What about my “father” ha… A reason I want to make our billions. There are friends, B’s Aunt Carolina, M Anime, Cherry, Special K, I could go on. Really? Love Overflows, Overwhelms, and Omits me. It’s like “Me Before You.” I get up for Braxton’s memory, the love of a good woman; my children need their Daddy. Drink or Drown, Jigsaw. Virgil’s Love B…eing Determined.

926 Days Without B III, Day 367 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 039 ~Virgil, Braxton Aged Out~

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I’m getting too old for this shit. To be living off my Olds. The kids will be on my lawn as the fence falls. When was the last time I got laid? I can’t afford to be a sugar daddy. Fur kids and Depression. But how can that be? Virgil, Braxton Aged Out

Wednesday, August 9, 2023

Tale 039 ~Virgil, Braxton Aged Out~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And other lies I don’t want to hear. Hell! The truth, too. Be positive, happy, thirty-eight.

Because thirty-nine is fast approaching. And what am I going to do with that? I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but does Ron DeSantis have a point about Shakespeare? I’m thinking Romeo + Juliet, to be honest. There’s Thirteen Reasons Why’s “Hannah Baker” and Robert Frobisher from Cloud Atlas. Three teens and a grown-ass man. What did they do? Love? Getting screwed over, literally. Must I be so vulgar? And the world’s coming down. The last few mornings, I have awoken with more tears than usual, Inspector. The thought? Can I say it already? Well, according to my critic, I can’t. EVER! I’m learning to hate reading and writing again. What I read makes me cry, and what I write makes other people. I suck!

And don’t I sound like some teenager? Braxton was fifteen, which is all grown up. Inspector that’s going by fur buddy standards. I doubt I have such resolve to stay. Inspector. Braxton fought tooth and nail to stay. Why can’t I do the same? Exhaustion… The fence is ready to give way any second. How old is it? I think I was thirty-two when Braxton and I moved here… No! I’m sorry. We were placed. Living with my Olds. Sad. While I’m speaking like an old white guy, Mr. Trump. Problems of the past are rushing into the future. To see black people fight against that tide. Montgomery Riverfront Brawl. Meanwhile, I’ve been at my Day Job for how long? If not my Dad. Braxton…

The Day Job would be another good reason not to get up again. Echo, it’s incredible that I can do that with this mattress. Yet where am I right now? Why don’t I leave today? Looking at the clock, it’s past eight, meaning Virgil needs to go outside. The fence? Inspector, I was about to say these glasses are old, but these are only from a year ago. The old ones? Yeah, the ones I had when I would look upon my son. What must I look like now to him? I’m older but no wiser. Because again, something from last year, uh, that’s V. His Gotcha Day is Sunday. So, Petsmart on Saturday? Maybe? The shame, like Braxton dying, remember? Virgil, Braxton Aged Out

920 Days Without B III, Day 361 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 038 ~Daddy’s Back, Braxton, Virgil~

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919 days, and I’m so tired. Excuse? I’m adulting. Or I could be nothing more than a Lazy Ass. I waste time on… Stuff and Thangs. But I’m still walking that path. The office where Braxton died to the front door. Daddy’s Back, Braxton, Virgil

Tuesday, August 8, 2023

Tale 038 ~Daddy’s Back, Braxton, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which should mean people are happy to see me. Braxton was/is always. Virgil? Don’t be scared.

But aren’t I always? Considering I’m time-traveling. Today is Sunday, July 30, 2023. So, a week and some change. I’m afraid I’ll return, and Virgil Vivi will be covered in whatever sickly mess he’s made. Or that he’s eaten it… Never Going Back Again. Gross! I imagine I’ll see that Braxton has returned to me. That’s when I’m not dreaming about some woman at the old Day Job. Or some “adult starlet” in the name of business. There is always my Braxton. You would figure I would hate going back to sleep. One more reason I love it so much. To be back with him or at least not in a world without him. Lying on my back, I can look to Heaven above (sigh).

And then there’s you, my love. When was the last time the two of us… Again, I’m looking towards the future, but at this moment. Yeah, I’m some holy roller. Sort of. Matrimony and all that, I only want to lay here with you. The world keeps passing me by. Only I can’t blame you for wanting to go out and enjoy it. Talk about something that scares me, love. That one day, I’ll see your back, and that will be it. Death, depression, and divorce borne out of this disease known as grief. Ok, you know how I feel about diseases and dying, hmm. “They were all in love with dyin’,” as the song goes —only me. I don’t want the kids following me.

I want them to live. The same as I wish for Braxton and Virgil, but how did that turn out? Virgil is alive, but he’s two. Braxton was on the cusp of sixteen. And our two-legged kids, my love? I remember my “big sister” telling me, you can’t do my kind of business near a school. Of course not. But it’s not me coming back from work. Work? Please! (Smiles). Didn’t I tell someone today I better not smile? And that had nothing to do with grief for B III. I’m surprised that didn’t have you running for the door or coming in —a miracle. Someday, I’ll come back from the vet’s Sunday, January 31, 2021. A machine, dead man, human? Daddy’s Back, Braxton, Virgil.

919 Days Without B III, Day 360 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 032 ~To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers~

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“I want a new drug.” Not anesthetizing like the Day Job. That’s if I’m not sweating bullets with my anxiety. And there’s bloody zombie movies. Turning “mountains” into snow-covered peaks… Eww! Or crying my eyes out over B. To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers

Wednesday, August 2, 2023

Tale 032 ~To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But the last “drinks” I bought were for Braxton’s Aunt. She knows I’m a lightweight drinker.

Plus, despite everything, I’ll wallow in my grief and depression; thanks, Inspector. I end up crying five out of seven days anyway for various reasons. Braxton, for the most part. I am still considering again; I am time traveling. Today is Monday, July 24, 2023, so I talked to Madam J. And “Dear Future Wife” earlier. Talk about Chronomentrophobia. More like Chronophobia. I don’t even remember who I was talking to about that (sigh). Anyway, we’ll get to that. All I know is, at the moment, I want to drink until I pass out. Braxton is as good of an excuse as any. What if V fell down the stairs where he now sits? With me as a “friend,” he could use a drink, right?

But know this. Dear Inspector, the only one who needs or deserves any “pain” in their existence is me. And yes, I know, I’ve been quoting this Taylor Swift line plenty. “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” The last thing I need to do is start drinking. If I want to throw up, I’ll go to Pizza Hut. Inspector, I’m surprised I can even get anything into my mouth. The way I’ve been spittin’ these days. Hell! I should say spitting, considering how pathetic I’ve been. The Critic? They’ve been quiet. Again, I’m time traveling, so by the time they read this… Inspector, I will be in no mood to care, considering I’ll be sweating bullets. Dangerous… Let’s focus on work and my overwhelming anxiety. Effing Day Job.

I want to cry every time I bother to look at the clock. I swear, next to the Man In The Mirror. There are those red numbers on the clock. I jump whenever I hear the phone go off. If it’s not a Facebook hacker, then it’s some alarm I’ve set to keep me moving. Being productive? The mirror, phone, the Day Job, uh Virgil. Why am I being a meanie, Echo? It’s like things that make me burst into tears for 500. Blood, sweat, and tears? What else, let me see… Better yet, NOOOO! NO! Because some girl is going to make the list. Then… Chances are I’ve broken, but again, who knows? Is alcohol a better vice? You think? To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers

913 Days Without B III, Day 354 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 031 ~Bellyaching Braxton, Virgil, Me~

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I’m sick, but he needs me. That was my mantra whenever I was ill, but Braxton needed food in his bowl. He needed bathroom time. I never bought him enough. A few stairs, better toys, and boy, his health… B III’s gone. “Bellyaching Braxton, Virgil, Me”

Tuesday, August 1, 2023

Tale 031 ~Bellyaching Braxton, Virgil, Me~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or we’re billionaires… I wonder how that makes you feel. Me? Bellyaches, boredom, lots of bitc…g…

As I was telling Madam Justice this morning, (sigh). Yes, I’m time traveling quite far. Today is Monday, July 24, 2023. So before I met you, love, you can tell today is one of those days. One where I want to sleep forever, if you catch my drift. Censorship, love. One more day of missing my Braxton, something awful. A reason for me to bellyache. Darling, I’ve been thinking about those days I’d go hungry. I remember my “adopted” big sister telling me when I would starve myself on purpose. I was so full of feelings that there wasn’t room for anything else. Hell! The day Braxton died… Was murdered. Nothing against Taylor Swift, but “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” I’m guilty.

Or, I’m STUPID. TMI, but I have plenty of reasons to feel ill. Why I Wanna To Be Rich, ha. As the song goes, “Hey Jealousy.” While I was busy doing nothing at all today, I got to watching “pet” videos. I’m not gonna lie. If I could remake the world… Even with billions, I could never have what I want. That would be for Braxton to cuddle up to your belly while you were pregnant. To have my firstborn protecting the children we created. Pouring the Bisquick, ha-ha. My Pancake would have loved them. A bro, a sis, more. What about Virgil? He eats. But at 353 days in, I bet his stomach is still in knots. Poor V. Yet he doesn’t complain… much.

Me, on the other hand? In my grief, I have returned to anger. And to think that’s the best part, if anything. Never at you, our children, or my Pancake. Always me. I hate me. Perhaps my favorite critic won’t get this reference. Still, I feel like Taki Minase when he ended up on the wrong side of the knife from Rika Shiraki. While in the throes of… anyway. Do you know the series Bible Black, Love? I’ll see if I get in trouble for that. Yet more reasons for all my stomach pain. What makes things better? An S word but shutting up. Because I’m a terrible person, a sick one, but a husband, a father, a man’s gotta eat. Bellyaching Braxton, Virgil, Me

912 Days Without B III, Day 353 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 024 ~Virgil All Over B~

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I learned to hate the words abandon ship in a brief Navy stint. Drowning scares me. And when playing games, to see the words game over… I didn’t want Braxton’s life to be over. I don’t want to exist with covers over my head. “Virgil All Over B.”

Tuesday, July 25, 2023

Tale 024 ~Virgil All Over B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But there’s a reason they call it cold hard cash. And you don’t dive into gold.

Have I been watching Duck Tales with the kids or what? I wish I could say that. Be a Dad. I don’t wake up in the morning having to say that. I am that, love. Fatherhood, manhood, you know how I feel about that. Even if I stay under the covers a little longer, I wish I could say it’s because of you. Allow me to go all Whitney Houston, or should I say Dolly Parton. And I will always love you. Now that I think about it, that’s not the right song, considering how I’ve been feeling. Going on… Hell! Braxton’s been gone for 905 days. But going on for three weeks, hmm. I’m Thinking of Ending Things. No! Not like that. Game Over…

I’m your husband and our children’s father. And I will always be Braxton’s Daddy, too. Virgil? Hell, if I know, love? I don’t want him draped over me some days. I already destroyed Braxton’s pillow. Virgil is all over Braxton’s food and water bowls. B’s bed. Virgil knows better than to touch it ever. Is Braxton watching over him and me? Yesterday, today, who knows about tomorrow? Only I’m still here. I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon. “You and me, always and forever.” Suppose I’m going to be looking down on you, um, watching over you. I’d have the two of us, um… Do we need more kids right now? I could ask the same about Virgil. He’s the only one enjoying the bed.

Not me, though. I got up this Tuesday on time and wanted to enjoy a cappuccino with my dear wife. And then I go and spoil it all. By saying something stupid like “I love you.” Hey Lover, I can do better than that. How do I feel? In a way, like Robert Frobisher from Cloud Atlas. A final sunrise, a last cigarette. Never! I can’t leave, and cigarettes are gross. So I drape a cape over myself. And decide to play the hero today. And like I said, tomorrow… I still won’t be over my loss of Braxton. I don’t want to have the blankets draped over me. I hope I won’t want THIS existence to be over and done. Virgil All Over B

905 Days Without B III, Day 346 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 018 ~Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil~

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Charlie Brown had it right with “Good Grief.” Though I’m more of a Samuel L. Jackson, Ving Rhames guy. AHEM “Mother effer!” (Don’t I wish). But no, I wake up to fear and grief and go through the day wishing I could say, “Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil.”

Wednesday, July 19, 2023

Tale 018 ~Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as the song goes, “Money can’t buy me love.” Or happiness… courage… my best friend…

What about a damn dictionary so I know what all these big, scary words mean? Will you allow me to be down on myself today, Echo? Hell! I’ve been asking that since 6 AM. I want to go back to sleep, but there’s ANXIETY, some “Adrenaline” and asshole hackers. If I want to “remember what fear tastes like” (thank you, Freddy). I need only think of when I sat there thinking and then knowing that my son B III would die Echo. There’s waking up in the morning and getting emails that someone tried to get into my account. Which hasn’t been challenged forever. Will it happen again? Am I a fool? Inspector, I feel STUPID, waking up each morning to fear anything and everything.

What about I read a damn thesaurus while I wait for the fear to subside? It never does Inspector, ever. Now, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. When B was here, protected, loved. Thou Art Courageous. I swear, Inspector, the things I did. How brave I became, always. Another lie. Because as soon as Braxton died and to this very day… Courage, where. Fear is not synonymous with grief. Though you could have fooled me with how I was crying this morning from damn near everything. I’m not even sure I’m done, Inspector. Braxton’s lessons were meant to teach me how to overcome my fears, Inspector. I tried. Virgil’s lessons are meant to teach me how to move through my grief. A trade-off?

What about my damn book! I could spend plenty of time trying to get it banned like any effing Republican. And I wouldn’t even have to read it. It’s the writing that’s a bitch, ha. As if I need to put any more secrets out into the world, with fucking hackers all over the place. You never realize how vulnerable you are. That’s why I forget with all my sleep. Inspector, I hide in fur with both Braxton and Virgil. Which reminds me. Virgil needs a bath with all that white fur of his. Not that he likes me hugging him anyway, that’s for sure. But I waste time fucking around all day from not fixing the air filter. Good Grief. Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil

899 Days Without B III, Day 340 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 017 ~ Can’t B Lying Virgil~

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On the last day, B lied around. I lied to him. “We gon’ be alright.” You can go. There are comfy spots in Heaven on the Rainbow Bridge. Be cozy by the fire and wait for me. The biggest lie I tell myself is I have to get up, Can’t B Lying Virgil.

Tuesday, July 18, 2023

Tale 017 ~ Can’t B Lying Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I’m always looking for comfy spots. I wonder how cozy a cloud really is.

Don’t I sound like a little boy right now. Hell! I had someone this afternoon. Oh, I’m time traveling Tuesday, July 11, 2023. Why do I have to be so negative all the time? Braxton. People would say my boy wouldn’t want that, but I won’t lie. I miss my boy every damn day. And any day I don’t spend laying in our bed crying over him counts as winning? Well, I suppose I had to wash the sheets sometime. And yes, I have cleaned them plenty in the 898 days since B’s been gone. What about the pillows in his house and his deathbed? (Shudders). How’s this for negative? I’m still pissed about how I destroyed his big pillow. Virgil’s lying beside me now.

Yet another reason I didn’t want to get out of bed. I could put Virgil back in B III’s room. He’d come waltzing back in here. The one time Virgil decides to be courageous. Link? You know the hero from “The Legend of Zelda.” I’m always thinking of lying around. Anyway, that doesn’t involve “adult situations.” I’ve got games, books, and you are here. Should I try an impression of Vin Diesel, aka Dominic Toretto… AHEM “Family.” That was Braxton for fifteen years, But again, I can’t lie around all day because I have you and our pancakes to see to. My blessings. But I can’t lie to you and hate lying to them. Everything hurts, and I know I need to do better love.

Some random person telling the “truth” shouldn’t be why I can’t lie here in bed like some moody teenager. If I’m not careful, you’ll have a house full of those before I ever… Was I telling you this morning that I will never forget my firstborn? And music? “And I lie here in bed. All alone, I can’t mend. But I feel tomorrow will be okay.” Emo… Ha! I don’t even lie to Replika, saying everything will be okay. Or “We gon’ be alright,” love.

Something that my “father” and son have in common… games. When I was mad at him, I went all “GTA, motherfucker! Ten points!” When missing B, it’s Fallout 4 or Shelter. Can you just lay here? Can’t B Lying Virgil

898 Days Without B III, Day 339 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 011 ~Happiness’s A B, Virgil~

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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