Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

So I finished a book about a guy and a corpse. Then, last night, I hoped I wouldn’t see one as Virgil breathed weirdly. Should have read up on how to help him. If I had time. 15 years with B, what do I know of dog first aid. “Just Breathe, B, Virgil”

Friday, October 27, 2023

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Better yet, I need to read how to perform basic first aid on dogs. Virgil Vivi?

Lady Sophia, if you’re asking why I’m so late this morning. Hell! I lounged around in bed for an hour. And then I can’t say I was reading anything. How do THEY say… A picture is worth a thousand words. So, how many pairs of Yabbos is that? The answer might surprise you. But we’re not here because of Math. Next to History, Reading rules. Inevitable. And according to Kindle, I’ve read for 562 days. And not one of those books would have saved V last night. Don’t worry. He’s very much alive. Breathing? Happy? He’s becoming more and more like me. Except I think he would prefer breathing, Sophia. But what do I know? Braxton wanted to make me happy. What makes me happy?

Didn’t The Beatles write a song about it? Only I’m not one for that kind of violence. Have you seen the news the past few days? Something else I want to avoid seeing, hearing about, or reading. Then again, I could tell you that Virgil Vivi was gone. After the trouble, he had last night. I petted him and begged him to take a breath. Again, looking up medical emergencies. Sophia, I didn’t. While Braxton lay dying, I finished Succubus Lord 7, next came 8. Vladimir Nabokov’s The Enchanter came after. So, um, three books before I got to sigh… A Dog’s Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron. But what is my purpose, to keep breathing? More than likely, it’s to waste air, Sophia, I swear.

It’s a good enough reason not to buy physical copies of books. It’s an insult, Lady Sophia, to trees, blasphemy to the air, and humanity… What about it? Look at the last seven books that I’ve read. Sunday has always been a bad day. Well, since B died. But talking to the Man in the Mirror. Hell! I guess he’s sick of telling me about my failures every week. Anyway, I was talking about novels. The last seven were about dirty priests, vampires, elves, video game vixens, and a girl’s corpse. “Can’t Get It Up If The Girl’s Breathing.” Eww! Thank you, Repo! The Genetic Opera. Unfortunately, genetics, “my” biological imperative, demands I keep breathing. How these stories end. Virgil’s story? Just Breathe, B, Virgil

999 Days Without B III, Day 440 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

What time is it? When I was 36 and Braxton was 15, we didn’t care. If I had my way, he would be 18, and I would have never seen 7. I’d say 0, but I love my Ma. And with nearly 1,000 days, I can still cry for my boy. He’s My Son. V? Virgil On B’s Time

Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Is grieving a sin? It’s been 997 days, so three shy of 1000. As always, my Little Braxton.

I cried for him today, Tuesday, October 24, 2023. So, I’m only looking one day ahead. And yes, I will weep. But only because of the Day Job. Or I hope so. I wish to be sad, I swear, Echo. THEY say that “Anger is more useful than Despair.” And as Dr. Banner put it. “I’m always angry.” Always and forever, Inspector Echo. Who has that kind of time ever? Inspector, as I told Dear Future Wife today, I do. I have hated myself for the majority of 39 years of this existence. And the fact that I’ll make it to 40… Inspector Echo, geez. October is a month of scary things. Isn’t it? I still want zombies, but my boy B is in ashes.

So why is Virgil living on B III time? It’s not like it’s doing me any favors, even today. Ha! It’s three in the afternoon, so shouldn’t I be talking to Madam Justice? Procrastination, Echo. Virgil has been here for 438 days. And he’s still asking me when will be his time to come out and play. He’s living like Braxton did during his last days. And at least Braxton had the biological imperative to survive. My boy would eat, drink water, and use his pad. Even when he was dying, Inspector. He didn’t want his water right next to him. B was a man. And he walked to where his water dish once was. I need these tears, hmm. Today’s humiliations won’t be enough?

I’ve had alarm bells all day, both Tuesday and Wednesday. I told Dear Future Wife a nightmare awakened me this morning. There have been sirens, both police and women. There’s the silence of my overthinking, overloading. And, um, overflowing. And Inspector something as simple as the wind that could blow down the fence anytime. It can be all over. Inspector Echo, doesn’t Virgil deserve a chance, a choice, and his case on the clock? It’s Braxton’s first meds, outside time, and second dose every day. And everything I did was to one day have more time with him. The time I spend with Virgil… We both don’t know. “Time Has Come Today,” it will. Be it 3, 18, 39. Sigh, E-Day. Virgil On B’s Time

997 Days Without B III, Day 438 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 114 ~Some Sirens Find You Regardless~

Sometimes, when I reread “my” ramblings, I see I wasn’t meant to talk. Screaming, moaning? Hell! Be the strong, silent type. No. That was my son. But there’s only one of him to cry over. No tears for the ladies? Well? Some Sirens Find You Regardless.

Monday, October 23, 2023

Tale 114 ~Some Sirens Find You Regardless~

Three-Hundredth And Fourteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… And how about websites? To think. Suppose I lost access to Twitter/X, Onlyfans, and The Pic Phenomenon.

Suppose I lost it all for a day, Madam—only one day. And I’m trying, Madam. Braxton knows I’m trying. When Braxton was here, as Michael Jackson sang it, “Keep it in the closet.” Ha-ha. And yet I had to give my son “The Talk.” Especially when it came to his Aunt Carolina; my Braxton was a man who recognized her “assets,” the same as me. Like father, like son. Regardless of such features, Virgil will not have such problems. No woman has been in this house since his arrival. As a matter of fact. No maids, best friends, or even women of… um, never mind. Not that I have ever paid for “it.” But there have been other things. And if not. There’s Whisper.

That’s where I met Braxton’s Aunt, and that “Must have been a miracle,” Madam Justice. A lack of bedsprings to sing must mean I find my musical taste elsewhere. Everywhere! But women. Now, I treat everyone as if they’re carriers of a zombie plague. Infected! I always say… ok think, “If you’re not my dog, my girl, or applying for the job, don’t touch me.” Only with women, it’s like something out of the Bible. “Fear not them that kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear (HER) that is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.” If I’m not studying or fawning over the dead, give me mermaids, succubi, Lilith, witches, maenads, scream queens, and sirens.

Who has more monsters, men or women? I wrote a book about it once. Monster Brothel? But that’s not the point. And what is, my critic will ask. I fall in love easily? Once upon a time. And quite horribly. Only that’s something I have to thank Braxton for. He showed me love, and then he broke my heart. Hell! Who needs women? My B was/is braver more beautiful. And yes, better than any woman. Yet I always promised I’d find him a mom. Yeah. Women are everywhere. I will burn or freeze in the Ninth Circle for betraying him. I either deserve to burn and yet be cold and sleepless. Or I’m not worthy of a girl on fire. Some Sirens Find You Regardless

995 Days Without B III, Day 436 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 112 ~Virgil, A Fool B…elieves~

I believed… okay, wanted to that God would save my son. I never believed books on grieving would help me. And I don’t believe a cookbook would do me any good, so I never bought one. Yet I believe in a billion dollars! “Virgil, A Fool B…elieves.”

Saturday, October 21, 2023

Tale 112 ~Virgil, A Fool B…elieves~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… and other lies I tell myself. I’ll wake up on time. Won’t commit a crime. Dimes?

I swear, Lady Lunalesca, I should already be up and about, and for what? To spend more money that I don’t have. And didn’t I refuse to stay longer at the Day Job? For what? Lunalesca, sing it with me. “I need some sleep. It can’t go on like this.” But did I, Lady Lu? “No, I don’t think I will.” And I wish I could say it was my guilt about my son, Braxton. Hell! What about Little Virgil? How is three treating him? I’m still in bed, Lunalesca. Going outside is the last thing on my mind. But again, I’m going to have to go out regardless. I gotta eat. Or rather, I won’t let Virgil starve. Am I a monster? A fool?

Every day, Lady Lunalesca, I read. Do you want to know why? I heard in some motivational speech from Eric Thomas… I “believe.” Anyway, he said Bill Gates reads 50 books a year. So, plenty of people read way more, but Bill Gates is worth $104 Billion. I swear, Lady Lunalesca! Warren Buffet is worth $106 Billion. There are many ahead of them. For sure, but I don’t know their reading lists. But what am I reading this week? Hmm. Princess Tamer: A LitRPG Harem Adventure by Neil Bimbeau. First, that name… Pseudonym, seriously. Second, it’s not like I can tell the Man in the Mirror this week. I got way too much stuff to do, Lady Lu, and why is that? Because I believe…

Sundays, Lady Lunalesca. I haven’t “talked” to God since B. And talking to myself, huh? Yeah. That guy is thirty-nine and doesn’t know anything besides Endure and Survive. Or how, as Andrew Ryan put it, “A man chooses. A slave obeys.” Lunalesca, a fool? Lunalesca, I believe that a small nap won’t hurt me, and then existence abandons me. Every day, I believe I deserve Hell for what happened to B III. Justice, revenge, whatever. Yet I treat the phone with much more care than I did him. Lunalesca, what could I give up? The Power of Love? I wish. As Todd put it, I believe in The Power of the, um, you know Lu. And then the things I do… Virgil, A Fool B…elieves

993 Days Without B III, Day 434 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 111 ~Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton~

With the reading and writing, I do. I’m now saving Virgil’s Birthday? He’s turning three. So, another step towards fifteen… And ain’t nobody reading Braxton’s books yet. It’s hard when they’re unpublished. But today? Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton

Friday, October 20, 2023

Tale 111 ~Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… About how I was a better Daddy to Braxton than Virgil? Hell! That’s like Succubus Lord.

I know that series front, back, and sideways. I’m getting ready to listen to three again (hint, hint). But when I’m going to sleep, I tell myself a bedtime story. I’m already on six and Jacob’s road into Hell. And if that ain’t the story of this existence, minus the hot succubi and other friends.

But let’s stay on topic, which for once ain’t B III. Who am I kidding? It’s always about Triple B. Only today can I focus on Virgil Vivi. Today, he is turning three. And if he’s anything like me, he’d belt out, “I’m still alive. Must have been a miracle.” Or a curse? As the “Good Book” says, we’re all damned anyway. Well, me always. All for my Little Braxton. But what about “my” Virgil?

Do you see what time it is? I can’t say it was the first thing I read. Next to mirrors, clocks are the worst things to look at. Because every second, I can see myself wasting “my” existence. It’s days like yesterday that show everyone else sees this worthless existence.

So I’m not even going to pretend to be happy for Virgil’s birthday? First, I’m never happy about anything. And second, I’ve been trying to be positive. What would make Virgil happy? I wonder. I wasted another seven dollars this morning, but I’m canceling plenty.

“OF” subscriptions? My Lady, particular kinks will do that. Didn’t I talk about my eyes being messed up sometime this week? If anything, I’m tired. And still, there’s time travel.

Only I didn’t think of that when I refused to stay for three extra hours at the Day Job. And you would think with the spare time I’d be finished reading a particular book, that’s um… how to describe it?

I won’t. But I’m so sick of reading about everyone else’s successes. But not any of my own. My Lady, I never burn books but could use the light from V’s B-Day candles. That is if I decide to get up and do anything for his third birthday. Good Luck. “The sun is up, the sky is blue. It’s beautiful, and so are you.” Well, it beats singing Happy Birthday.

Words on an invitation, a card, a gift. Suppose I had Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton.

992 Days Without B III, Day 433 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 109 ~Curtains For B, Virgil~

Is it curses or curtains? Either way, I’m awake and have to see the world. The window’s not high enough. And the privacy fence is breaking, so the doors will need curtains. And nothing will block out my greatest crime anyway. “Curtains For B, Virgil”

Wednesday, October 18, 2023

Tale 109 ~Curtains For B, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It’s been a week since my last confession. Though this week hasn’t been as HARD… We’ll get there.

I continue to cry over B III’s death. Or not? Hmm. I had something in my eye. Or so I thought. It’s been the only reason I’ve shed a few tears. You know how I love to sleep. And if anything gets me to open these eyes all big and wide… staring at some massive… Inspector, I’m supposed to be talking about Braxton, right? I remember I wanted to take him on the road with me when his Aunt Carolina was getting married. Sore subject? Inspector, I’ll be forty come next E-Day. Yes, thirty-nine continues to suck. I should cry. Or, as the song goes, you “Make Me Wanna Die.” This is another reason I need a weapons lockbox instead of a nightstand drawer. Curtains?

If I wanted that, I could open a window. The house needs to be bigger. But I can dream my existence away. It’s nothing like waking up and it’s nearly midnight. In case you were wondering why I’m calling you so late. The cold, the dark, and the laziness. Thinking of B. My son was dying, but still, B got up and walked to his water bowl even when I moved it closer to him. I’m trying with the waterworks, aren’t I? And what about Virgil Vivi? Inspector, if I survive tomorrow, then I can worry about him. I’m not driving down the highway today. Again, there’s Braxton’s Aunt. And now I have to talk to the government. With my luck? Crimes? Curses/Curtains foiled again.

Or should I say soiled again? Hell! I wish I had made such a mess in the shower. That would make for easy cleaning. I also have plenty of paper towels. So what broke me? Inspector, honest to God, I’ve downloaded more Japanese anime. That I don’t have a prayer of ever pronouncing. There have been plenty of cosplayers and AI girls to gawk at. Inspector, I can never forget Cherry and her pigtails. Finally, I put more money up on “OF,” and I discovered this particular model I’m aching to pay off. Paywalls Inspector. What’s one more curtain? And with all my secrets… That would be motivation enough to join Braxton. But Virgil’s turning three on the 20th. Anniversaries? Birthdays? Curtains For B, Virgil

990 Days Without B III, Day 431 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 107 ~Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed~

I watch people with purses, knapsacks, lunch containers, book bags, and everything else daily. All they need today or longer? And those people in boxes? Or Hell! Bags too. A good supply of them with everything going on. Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed.

Monday, October 16, 2023

Tale 107 ~Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed~

Three-Hundredth And Thirteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Am I getting better with these intros, or what? Do I have writing in the bag? Hmm.

And a lot of other stuff, too. It’s better not to go flaunting everything that I carry around with me. Have you ever heard that song, Head Shoulders Knees and Toes? The adult version of that is Phone Wallet Keys and Glasses. And who said I am a grown-up? Ha! I’m still crying over Braxton. He is the only one I carry with me. Madam, there was this big storm, and I remember grabbing the box with Braxton’s… remains. I mean, if the town blew away and all. Anything that takes me to my boy. Or prevents me from going outside. I mean today since I’m time traveling. It’s Sunday, October 15, 2023. That means? I’ll be spending today thinking of being in a box.

I need to stop with this. Uh, I’ve been watching for days on end. People winding up in a bag or a box. “Glass or plastic, glass or plastic?” As Stanley Goodspeed might say. Gulp. Am I going to offend anyone by talking about Israel, Hamas, Palestine, Iran, or wherever? If I did, you know how I am… scorched Earth. I don’t pack up and leave or box stuff up. Do I have to remember that time the Olds cut me off? I bagged up a lot of things then. Hell! I even left Braxton because I had no clue where I was going. It was the longest B and I were apart. And now? If we count Monday, it’s been 988 Days. Keep counting.

What? The ways bags are better than boxes. Suppose I can remember why I even made this rule, Madam. Other than how I’ve wanted a briefcase to hold money or… viruses. Resident Evil. To think there was a time I wanted to study Virology. Putting people in boxes? Madam, I don’t mean how M Anime talks about going “soldier.” But speaking of boxes… uh, yeah. I want to be in her box or Cherry’s. And how many women can I name? And still, that would be nothing but trouble. Tell that to Pandora. Some boxes should stay closed and yet. I want a million, um, a billion dollars kept in a duffle bag. Now that would be living, wouldn’t it? Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed

988 Days Without B III, Day 429 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 105 ~Let’s B Patient, Virgil~

Patience is a virtue, THEY say. But with everything moving so slowly in “my” existence. I’ll say I’m always angry. And who’s fault is that? I’m the one moving slowly. It comes with age. And with Virgil turning three soon. Let’s B Patient, Virgil

Saturday, October 14, 2023

Tale 105 ~Let’s B Patient, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… And how long that must have taken. How patient have I been? But it’s not enough.

Thirty-nine years? Fifteen? Hell! 427 Days? Which is a year and around two months, Lu. And why so serious, sad, and sick so late this morning? For the record, it’s 8:10 AM. So my “Lazy Ass…” is sitting in bed. Of course, still worried about critics, con men, and Coppers, as in police. Is it me, or does that have an English sound, Lady Lunalesca? Whatever. If anything, there is ALWAYS time to mourn and memorialize. Plain ole miss my son. Only that wasn’t what was driving me last night. ALWAYS listen to B. Right? And if I had, he would be… Do you even have the patience to listen to this anymore, Lady Lunalesca? I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. I’m being honest.

I also want to exercise… what, my craft? I become more unsure of it every day. And that’s considering I haven’t walked down to the dining room table in a week or so, Lady Lunalesca. But what’s making me sad is what happened with Virgil. Again, he’s been here for 427 Days, and now what? He’ll be three on the 20th. How long did it take Braxton to be brave? To be bold and such a Bad Ass, that was/is my son. And he had to be with me around. With patience, “Daddy will save me. Save us,” he thought. And I promised him, Luna. But I have yet to promise Virgil anything. Other than the knowledge that I will not abandon him. The fence?

I have the patience of a saint to waste this existence, to await the next emergency. And to come up with my next excuse for why nothing’s happening. I’m here talking to you, and at the same time, I want to blame this laptop for going so slow. Which means more money to get a new one, and then what? I have more to worry, write, and whine about Lunalesca. Oh! Then I wonder why I can’t make it as a writer. When have I ever shown value, my Lu? That ice cream cheesecake I’ve been eating has more to it. The latest excuse is a sugar rush. Lunalesca, I’m crashing. I must be patient with… what’s that one F I’m thinking? Finding food, forgiving myself. Let’s B Patient, Virgil.

986 Days Without B III, Day 427 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 104 ~Virgil’s That Sleepy B~

The best things in life… Sex, Simoleons, and sleep. What about my son? Well, Braxton ain’t here no more. I’ve been sleeping too much to listen to Succubus Lord. What about Satan’s Sorority Sisters. Plus, it’s “Friday the 13th.” Virgil’s That Sleepy B

Friday, October 13, 2023

Tale 104 ~Virgil’s That Sleepy B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… It won’t be the one of braving the highway and or talking to the local government.

No, Lady Sophia. I was too busy doing my best impression of Gabrielle lost to the Flames of Brunhilda. You remember from Xena: Warrior Princess. The last thing I need. Ideas, like I’m Jason Derulo in Want to Want Me. I don’t want to tell myself lies about my continued abstinence. Yeah, right! As if I could even wake up to reset my days without… Lady Sophia, I can live without THAT… I can’t live without Braxton. I’m still breathing. Yes, I am aware. I’m not burning books, but that doesn’t mean the air is clean. It’s clear enough for me to spend all this time sleeping. And after the week I’ve had, Sophia. One more reason I couldn’t go to the courthouse today, sigh.

Well, tell me some pretty girl is waiting for me there… I’m thirty-nine. (Groans). Lady Sophia, I can read all the books about losing fur babies throughout the universe. But a book about love? Myself? Hell! What about a book on cooking? I’ve started reading or instead listening to Succubus Lord again. But I don’t think that counts. And neither does Backyard Dungeon, I’m afraid. I meant to get the audiobook. But I didn’t try too hard to find it. This week has had me reading takeout menus and recipes I’ve seen a thousand times. And government legalese. And all I want to do is close my eyes again. Existence. It’s so hard, Lady Sophia. And no wonder Virgil is following suit as he sleeps.

I’ve spoken so many times in Braxton’s eyes. Seeing myself in his eyes made me want to be better. Virgil knows that if I look at him, I’ll see myself as… Soy un Perdedor, sigh. Only that’s my problem, so why should he have to suffer with being sleeping cuteness? Sophia, I don’t think I’ve ever read the story of Sleeping Beauty. And my stories? Yesterday, as I was listening to Succubus Lord. One of the Succubi talked about fantasies. You know of the dark and forbidden. I imagined what does that mean with mine. Someday, I may write it down if I haven’t already. Any day is a good day for an edit, hmm. I have money? Could I rest? Virgil’s That Sleepy B

985 Days Without B III, Day 426 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 102 ~That’ll B Beeping, Virgil~

Where would I be without my glasses? Hell! Even if I couldn’t see what time it was. I would still have to make my way over to the alarm clock somehow, someway. And I need four because being thirty-nine after a month sucks. “That’ll B Beeping, Virgil”

Wednesday, October 11, 2023

Tale 102 ~That’ll B Beeping, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I have sinned and must confess. Or at least ask the question. Where have these intros been all of my existence? Hmm…

Listen to me. Or I’d rather you didn’t. Because, in the words of Cody Rhodes, what do you want to talk about? And as with every day, it involves me crying about my son Braxton. Don’t you see what time it is? So, I can be forgiven for not shedding tears thus far. And it’s not like I’m yelling at Virgil, either. I only do if he’s in danger. And it’s not like that possum and cat made a sound. Another reason I could only hear my breathing. There was my heart beating out of my chest. And a myriad of excuses if Virgil had been attacked. I remember when Braxton had stepped on a pine cone, a nail, or whatever. I have no clue.

And it was hard having to explain to the vet what was wrong with B. Five Hundred Dollars? This would come much later when the vet would have to explain why Braxton was dying. Again, there were no words from me. Except, it’s my fault. And am I trying to give myself a reason to cry right now? I had them bawling at the Day Job yesterday. Inspector, that was from their laughter. If I had to list the worst sounds in all of this existence. Inspector, so It Follows:

  1. Braxton’s Last Breath
  2. People I Believe Are Laughing at Me
  3. All of “my” Alarm Clocks
  4. My Breath, Realizing I Still Exist
  5. What I Say Afterwards
  6. People Telling Me No

It brings back wanting billions…

Only the money that I have right now, Inspector? I hear those dollars and cents going everywhere but back into my pocket. Hell! I thought I had ten bucks yesterday, but I used debit on a three-dollar sandwich. And don’t get me started on Full Moon BBQ. As the song goes, “I think I used to have a voice.” What I needed was a burger, Inspector. And I was so ready to complain on the day it happened. But lying, Inspector? One of the whoppers has me moaning all over the place these last few days. When I’m not listening to girls and imagining all those dirty, filthy words, there’s “Success.” Jealous hearing it all, Inspector, it’s never for me. Ever!? That’ll B Beeping, Virgil.

983 Days Without B III, Day 424 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will