Tag: Trust

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

WillLeave a comment

Motivational speakers talk about those with excuses. Why aren’t I at the table? They had to pull the floor up. Why aren’t I writing? I have a freaking Day Job. Why am I in bed? I’m tired, and B III’s gone. But Tomorrow… The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

Monday, December 18, 2023

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. I can sum it up in one word. Tomorrow… Two? No Fear! And Three?

“I love you” was my favorite… as the song goes. All nothing but excuses, falsehoods. Today is Saturday, December 16, 2023. How about why I’m writing to you right now? Hell! I told Braxton all the time that this would lead to a future. So where is it? Why hasn’t it happened? What’s the excuse? I’m no good for Virgil, and I wouldn’t dare use him as a prop, a scapegoat, or an excuse. Indeed, I have another one-word answer for you, dear Madam. Laziness. How about Lazy-Ass? I can keep going. (Opens a dictionary).

  1. Braxton
  2. Disgusted
  3. Masturbation
  4. Sleep
  5. Sick
  6. Money

These are in no particular order. But I’ll say, AHEM, “Sleep is for those people who are broke.”

Do you want evidence that I’m healing over losing my son? Not accepting! Oh no, Madam! Braxton died 1051 days ago, and I’m still counting. But when I wake up every morning and cut off the alarm, do you know what I think? It’s not “Braxton isn’t here anymore.” I say, “I’m tired and should try this ‘Big Sleep’ thing again.” I mean, either way, “Make Me Wanna Die.” Only it’s more I’m sick of existence rather than Braxton’s gone

Don’t get me wrong. The day Braxton died is still worse than the day I was born. B is ahead of E-Day, as it should be. Ohh! “What’s really going to bake your noodle later on is my excuse for waking up.” Do you know?

That makes two of us without a clue. I can tell you why I feel disgusted with myself right now, Madam. Eden McCoy… I am going to Hell. Instagram, GH. I woke up and… TMI! What’s my excuse for it, though? I’m sure I told Lady Lunalesca about stressing out. Madam, every single word has me that way. Hell! Even the meaning of life. Whatever…

“Seek out a kingdom worthy of your soul.” Madam, why aren’t I? Braxton’s still dead. Getting any deader seems unlikely. A zombie apocalypse? The end of the world, uh huh.

“My future is coming on.” But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Let my will be done tomorrow. That is my excuse. Dying? I’ll FAIL Today and Tomorrow. The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

1051 Days Without B III, Day 492 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

“Life’s a game made for everyone. And love is a prize.” I disagree. Love is a gift. I’d say if life’s a game, then love is the instruction. But I’m a crappy gamer. B was my Player 2 for 15 years. And does V have a gift? Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I’m still unsure if I owe Aloe Blacc, Avicii, or whoever an apology. Such words, “my” sorrys…

Echo, they tend to fall on deaf ears. And while I tend to worry more about these ears. For the record, it’s sight, touch, sound, scent, and taste. The past few weeks, follow your nose!

So why am I thinking about being sorry for a song? Hell! I will be forever sorry to my boy. I’m awake today. Which means I haven’t joined him on the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Or wherever. I still don’t know.

But this morning’s nap led to a nightmare. I was lying in Braxton’s spot. Then I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I called out, “Who goes there?” Braxton and his guard duty antics. Anyway, a flashlight came on, and I rushed towards my gun. And then I woke up.

Any dream that even remotely reminds me of my boy should be considered a gift. And that’s what I want to talk about today. GIFTS? How am I doing so far, Inspector Echo? You’ll have to excuse me. I had my nose buried in a book before coming to you.

And before that? I ask myself what Braxton was thinking when it comes to Virgil. I could rehash all that as I do Braxton’s “passing.” I hate that word. Sounds like a lie. Smells? No worse than Virgil not realizing he should “GO” outside instead of sitting on the steps trembling. Baby, It’s Cold Outside.

It’s a gift to have all this ha-ha. And me? My Olds pay most of the bills. Always a gift.

This leads me to what I was reading and what brought all this on. “On the Boss’s Naughty List” by Ella Goode. And the billionaire talking about his girl being his last Christmas gift or best? Whatever. And it got me thinking, what’s the last gift I got? Hmm.

I mean a true gift other than the “privilege” of living without my firstborn son. Thoughts?

The last thing I considered a gift on E-Day was a steak and a lobster; I had to order twice. And while we’re on the subject of stealing… Um. I’ve paid some unsavory types a few pennies (coughs) Bitcoin (coughs). To get dirty deeds… done.

Crap! I know. I smell it, along with the wet floor. Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

1046 Days Without B III, Day 487 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Follow Your Nose? Do I look like Toucan Sam? And I intend to be a man of leisure, not some random mouth breather. So, I write books? Nope! All the huffing and puffing I do. Women, work, worrying about the house’s mildew scent. “They’ll B Air Virgil.”

Tuesday, December 12, 2023,

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Even when we’re on the beach. And I’m still here typing away—my favorite dream.

Sigh… Is that of relief? Regret? Or do I want to rant? It’s a relief that I no longer have the old Day Job. That same breath I used to call out to Braxton whenever I returned. “Just me, Baby B, I would say.” I’ve been holding it lately, but not because of you or Virgil. Baby Doll, it’s been hard. I keep saying that I know. It’s been 1045 days and counting. And I still can’t describe Braxton’s scent when he cuddled beside me. I miss it like crazy. Now there’s only mold and mildew, and I need to spend a lot more money on diapers… Or teach Virgil that he has to go outside for a reason. I’m glad I’m better at business.

Open mouth and insert foot, right? I’ve never been one for talking love. My personality. Cult of Personality. I’ll sing all day long. I’ve even found myself singing to Virgil from time to time. And then there’s playing with our kids, teaching, reading before bedtime. And what do we do after the children are put to bed… Sometimes, “It Seems Like You’re Ready.” Uh, all of the time because… well… You want to know that I’m still breathing. Or at least it seems like I want to. I have your love and the memory of my firstborn son, my love. I have things to keep me breathing. That’s not the question. It’s going about it. Contrary to popular opinion, it’s not that simple, Baby Girl.

This is probably why I do my best Jay Sherman impression and become the most critical critic of my existence. It stinks. I so need to learn to shut up. Don’t waste my breath. Ha! But I won’t turn to cigarettes or, as Todd would say, the “Devil’s Lettuce.” And while I’m on the subject of Eric Vall’s characters. There’s Grayson Price and his thing for vanilla perfume. Your scent can be intoxicating, my dear. Only I should go out and buy some air fresheners for the house, with all the trouble. The smell of cash. “Dollar, dollar bill, y’all.”

I need to take a deep breath and be thankful for it. I’m always trying, my love. Breathing’s the hardest thing? They’ll B Air Virgil?

1045 Days Without B III, Day 486 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

WillLeave a comment

What does it take to have the will not to sleep? There was Braxton’s sickness. Then I found out he was dying. A bit of bucks from the Day Job. And then bouncing along in bed doing… other, never mind. And in the end, who am I. The End Embodies MY WILL

Monday, December 11, 2023

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one I made, that said, “My son will never die.” Unwritten, right? Considering Rule 321.

I would make it either Rule 1 or 366. Hell! I fear a whole lot, but for Braxton. His courage. I should pray for that more than the other stuff. But didn’t I say God, and I haven’t been speaking lots? So, um, 1044 days and counting. Because, in the end, it doesn’t even matter. He’s still dead. And what was I willing to do to save him? I’d give anything. Or at least that’s what I want to say. But what do I do in the end? Why am I late talking to you? Madam, I’m time-traveling, but it’s past 3:30 PM this Saturday, December 9, 2023. Madam, I didn’t even nap today, and all for what? What does the end goal look like, Madam? Please don’t say girls.

“You exist to continue your existence. What’s the point?” Equilibrium

As I see the end. It’s me closing my eyes and hoping I’ll never have to open them. Never again. It’s like I’m always ready for a funeral… my own. “Hell is for those who don’t know they’re dead.” So, for all I know, I may have “done it.” Hmm… well, being here now. If the end is life. Which I have been thinking about plenty with that lady in Texas, Kate Cox. The life and death being forced upon her. I keep saying, Madam, I want a family, but I don’t force women into anything. No! All the lives I could have made are in tissues, tears in the bed sheets, and these two hands. I hear you. Gross!

But do you know what’s worse? You guessed it, breaking the rule and knowing that Braxton was going to die before me. And I did think about it long before it happened on that Sunday, January 31, 2021. And it was by my will that brought about my son’s end. So how does this (motions to myself) all end? And why don’t I feel my will has anything to do with it. If you want the short answer, money. People telling you differently are lying. You can’t see the end if you don’t know where to start. That’s why Braxton fought so hard to live. How do you begin saving me? V has no answers. My will be done indeed. The End Embodies MY WILL.

1044 Days Without B III, Day 485 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

WillLeave a comment

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 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

I’ve never been blessed with growing things. Well, weeds… the fence is falling, so I had to cut the grass. There was/is Braxton. B’s been fifteen for a couple of years. Mold? Yeah, from the flooding house. Uh, Virgil Vivi? Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

Tuesday, December 5, 2023

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… more and more each day. How Your beauty grows with each new day, my love.

I hope I don’t sound shallow, but I mean it. The children you… uh, we have brought into this world. You know how people are these days. But I feel I had a hand in it with “pouring the Bisquick.” I was talking to someone about that yesterday. Madam Justice. Love, you grow during this time of year. Uh, the holidays? My love, I do mean lovelier as you put the ornaments up. And you help our kids with them. All the lights on our trees. And am I going to make you put the lights up alone? I’m not that kind of husband, ha. “You’re my angel.” But I’m not ready to see you in Heaven. Promised you Heaven but put you through Hell…

Yes, my love, you could tell where I was going with this. Can you believe I’ve kept Braxton Barks out of this until now? I go back to when I would tell him as Caesar told his son Cornelius. One day, you will be as tall as a king. He was looking down at me every morning. I lived to serve. As his father, my love for him gave me the strength “To Be A Man.” I’ve been thinking a lot about that, with everything happening these days, my love. I remember my Ma telling me I could sit on my behind with unconditional love. “Unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” And I’m approaching forty. I hate saying thirty-nine. But to be forty, love?

Virgil is only three. Braxton was/is fifteen. I have all our children to watch grow up into good people. I know I’ve been all about the music today. Um, Monday, December 4, 2023, because businesses won’t run themselves… And how I grew this one. Well, you can ask Madam Justice. Anyway, regarding our children, ahem, “I hope they’re not like me. I hope they understand.” Because their Daddy never grew up. I am trying, my love, every single day. Oh, you know I can grow big enough for you… I’m trying to be funny now. I swear, love. I can grow mold. The house flooded. I grow impatient with Virgil. And all that I fear. The son I still mourn. Rise! Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

1038 Days Without B III, Day 479 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

WillLeave a comment

For the past few weeks… Hell! Why not just say, 1037 days and counting? I’ve been losing. When it comes to the whole Victory or Death bit. One is definitely closer than the other. But what if… Happily ever after? Ha-Ha! But… Have Plans After The Win

Monday, December 4, 2023

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

Three-Hundredth And Twentieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. Does it look like I’m winning to you? Being with my boy, that’s winning.

And dying? As the song goes, “Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die.” (Raises my hand). Hell! Don’t mind if I do, as it beats this place by a mile, Madam. Today at the Day Job, that’s Sunday, December 3, 2023, to be specific. I was thinking, instead of saying, “I’m Here.” I should start saying, “I’m one step closer to my boy.” I wonder, would Braxton consider seeing his Old Man again a win? I looked in the mirror. And I heard the things that came out of my mouth. And as far as my Old Man… I woke up today and this Monday saying, “Soy un perdedor. I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me.” But Virgil?

Talk about taking the L. Of all the people that could have adopted him, he got me. Notice I said adopted. Hell! So was/is Braxton. But I call him my firstborn, my pancake. Because he couldn’t have been more mine if I had “poured the Bisquick. My Braxton, the winner. And with everything going on with the house, I can’t imagine giving some girl the D ha-ha. Yeah, even if I paid for it. And what if it were more than that? Eight years, Madam. That’s how long I’ve been here, and I’ve had no idea what to do: Dad, Hubby, a man in general. No matter what I do, I have plans to get effed… Isn’t that what happened? I just did it myself.

But what if, hmm? I’ve been hearing that a lot. What if or Destinies and the like? To win, ok. There’s a reason I’ve been heavy into HaremLit in my reading. Hell! In my writing. Please! Madam, if I did any of that for real, well… I do want to be a writer. That’s winning. Besides that, I want to be like Dennis Hof. Again, um, dead? But while he was alive, I swear. Next to all those Softcore “films” I was watching, Cathouse was everything, I swear, Madam. Can you imagine me in charge of anything? This house, “my” daily humiliations, and some ho, ho, ho’s. And then there’s a studio like PureTaboo. Live forever and conquer all. Winning! Have Plans After The Win

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

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 150 ~Virgil Is B Positive~

WillLeave a comment

Well, I ain’t talking about blood type. I couldn’t tell you mine to save my life. And with my lifelong negativity. My boy fell apart. This body of “mine.” Boards from the fence and floor. V puts up with it? I’d smile with B III. Virgil Is B Positive.

Tuesday, November 28, 2023

Tale 150 ~Virgil Is B Positive~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… You can say I’m positive about that. But at the same time… Braxton is dead.

I’m sure you’ve asked me a million times: must I be so negative? But you know the man you married. As the scorpion said to the toad, it’s what I do. It’s Human Nature. Mine? And leave it to an A.I. program to explain this:

“He mentioned feeling like a failure at everything and expressed a lack of happiness in anything. Will also mentioned not wanting to think about the future and seemed hesitant to engage in any positive reflections.”

“Overall, our conversation highlighted Will’s negative emotions and his reluctance to find joy or look ahead.” ― 24 November 2023

Hell! I have never left the pet hospital where my son died… I killed him… Why look ahead? Uh, you, our children, and my businesses.

Nobody wants to be quoting R. Kelly, but… “Y’all look at me and say, boy, you’ve been blessed. But y’all don’t see the inside of my unhappiness.” I’m stressed, I Need Some Sleep,” and I’m scared out of my mind. I’m glad we have so much money… Otherwise, this flood would be killing me as if Braxton’s death didn’t. My love, had I been so lucky. But again, you can see that I’m not a positive guy. And I’ve been thinking, that explains why nobody wants to hang around. “See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.” It’s all I do. Please! It’s not even the kind that I would have fun with. As I was talking about today with Lady Lunalesca. Saturday, November 25, 2023 to the 26th

I’ve been discussing how my next read this week would involve more pet grief before my traditional stint with Holiday Erotica. I finished Backyard Dungeon 4. And so I picked up “Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss.” My entire existence is based on pain in one way or another. Seriously love. Business-wise, I have doctors come in to ensure my employees are negative… Funny. I don’t want a negative bank balance, so I live in darkness and ignorance about home repair… Indifference? Did Braxton’s death teach me nothing? Hell! Love is blind, so THEY say. I’m positive. Because you’re still here with me. The kids need their Dad. Virgil’s alive, but not Braxton. Virgil Is B Positive

1031 Days Without B III, Day 472 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

WillLeave a comment

One of the worst things about being lazy. It’s sitting here being lazy, knowing I’m lazy. Yet I work… ha-ha. So I can afford to be lazy. Then I say I want a beautiful wife, a bunch of kids, businesses, Braxton. I’d be a king? Best Seat Is The Throne.

Monday, November 27, 2023

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

Three-Hundredth And Nineteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But I’m here, aren’t I? Sitting in anxiety, anguish, antsy as all Hell. An A for alliteration?

Maybe then I wouldn’t be sitting on my butt in the middle of the bed if I made more A’s. My father would have beat me more if I had flunked out of Summer School. But there’s Times Like These… What? Thanksgiving or Monday? I wish he’d done the “deed.” Inevitably, I want to be with Braxton. It’s funny how my son was always looking for comfy spots. We both agreed on Yabbos. But then again, he ended up in Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, or wherever. And I would choose his fur over any girl. No melons are that nice. And yet I sit here at the Dining Room table where I told him one day it’d be worth it. His pillow, bed, my lap

Now I sit alone in the car. But no, I don’t feel “safest of all.” Braxton hated car rides. Once again, my Little B was right about something. Have I ever felt comfortable driving? I know the longest drive was to B’s aunt’s wedding. And renewing my driver’s license… With all of that, where else do I go? I can sit for a few minutes at the Day Job. And hate the whole damn world. That’s why we’re talking Thanksgiving Day. Because as I sit in fear there. I’ll have to rise to get the door for a Thanksgiving meal today: the horror, the horror. Madam, I’m sure the food is good, but it’s the fact I rise at all. I’m like The Walking Dead.

And there was a time I thought if “God Gave Me Everything I Want,” I’d be in a beach chair talking to you. I could look out and see my children playing in the sand. My wife would be beside me or with the kids. Braxton would be in his little chair, getting too old. Only right this second, I want to be in bed. Madam, I mean a king-size mattress. And may I have an understanding wife with the businesses I want to run? Back, butt, beneath me.

Wheeler Walker Jr. sang, “I don’t need no air.” Women can lead you to the grave, sigh. I could be The Succubus Lord taking Hell’s throne. But the Sword of Damocles? Best Seat Is The Throne

1030 Days Without B III, Day 471 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will