Tag: Truth

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

Tale 009 ~Even With Instructions, People Evolve~

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In class, I wasn’t much of a student. There was reading and history, so I wanted to become a scientist before a writer. Mankind redefined. Like I have time to game. I do, but I’ll be much worse than a gamer. Even With Instructions, People Evolve

Monday, July 10, 2023

Tale 009 ~Even With Instructions, People Evolve~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I can be exactly who I am. A dumbass? Tell me this is it, I’ll…

Well, you know. It’s going from; I don’t want to grow up to I can’t. That’s even if I wanted to. And at this point, Madam… why couldn’t I have just followed Braxton. Socrates didn’t leave detailed instructions. Hell! How would I know? All I know is that I know nothing. It’s all Greek to me. I can’t say I’m in a funny mood, to be honest. How to pay my OWN bills. Can I clean my OWN house? And what is up with my OWN floor? In truth Madam, I don’t OWN a damn thing. My life? Please! This effing existence. Ironic that I write books, ha-ha. Only I didn’t come with one. Instructions for Willy. Madam, can I stop… ever. Addicted, obsessed, perverted…

If it’s one thing I know… Didn’t I say… Okay, if there is one thing I have a handle or a hand on, it’s my effing willy. Really! The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident, The Cherry Collision, The Pic Phenomenon. What’s Next? If anything, it only gets worse; I know it. Madam, B III brought out the best in me and Virgil. To punish him yesterday. And because I’m a selfish bastard, what about me? Hmm. I ended up mopping the floor if I can call it that. All because I was trying to kill a mosquito or something. More water? Again what is up with the damn floor? If my father sees this… Evolving, Madam? Between being amongst the living and the dead, I’m afraid.

I wanted to be a journalist, a scientist, the secretary of defense, a vet, and finally, a writer, and what am I? I’ve had my Day Job for over a decade, and what have I become? Well, I’m not Johnny Cash, either. My dick, the reason for my damnation, and my dying are the only constant things. And even if I had the instructions. How not to eff crazy? B III, feel free to keep him alive. To not be, as the song goes, “super, super (super!) suicidal” ha. My Republican tendencies are to keep things the same. While every time, everything and everyone evolves in one way or another. For better or for worse? Um, with me, you know. Even With Instructions, People Evolve

890 Days Without B III, Day 331 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 007 ~Braxton’s Doggone Insanity Virgil~

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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~

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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 004 ~Letters B To V~

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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

Tale 002 ~Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary~

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Imaginary? I “want” to believe my son is a ghost. Or that a couple of women, one Somebody That I Used To Know when I could tell her, I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved… But waking up every morning… “Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary.”

Monday, July 3, 2023

Tale 002 ~Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Which means I don’t have many friends. That much… Dolls, Robots, Prostitutes… But Musk, Trump, soon DeSantis…

Not that I mean to get all political now. As much as I wish those fucktards were imaginary in this existence. Like the Basic Bitch? I was playing pretend… She was a fever dream. One kind of fucking mistake. Hell! The only kind I seem to make. The Pic Phenomenon?

But what about my Braxton? My fascination… (Um, the song is “Infatuation,” thank you, Rod Stewart. And no homo Todd). Anyway, my friend, first love, I fucking love my son, and the letter F, yeah. I love my boy, never loved, but love forever. Always. Even now. With Virgil sleeping beside the table, I can see Braxton sitting beneath it. Madam, what happens if I stop crying like a little boy? Let the pain go…

Oh! Like I did last night when I was engaging with my cuck fantasy. “You Don’t Know Me.” How many imaginary lovers do I have at the moment? Do we count another girl from OnlyFans from this morning as I came to sit at the table? And with more money? Don’t worry; we’ll get to that. Of course, there are all the ones that I can have freely. And if I grew desperate enough… Yet another reason I broke yesterday —my six impossible things, ha-ha. I don’t even remember the last time I had something, someone real. And any women that imagine me… At best, I’m invisible; at worst, imaginary. And you’ve seen me the past few days. To not be here at all… sighs.

But how would that be any different than what I do to others, Madam? I’m not friends with the people I got Virgil from. Only I haven’t seen those folks in a year. “Gotcha’ Day?” I keep telling myself I need to check on Braxton’s Aunt… her love life. And M Anime… her mom. I meant to do that Saturday. But I was too busy for them. My imaginary friends. That includes a new book I got, “Buried Deep in our Hearts.” Humans and fur-babies. Everything is fiction, make-believe, pretend, and imaginary. Madam, that’s best. Necromancy, on the other hand… Everything is dead and brought back. No wonder I’m scared all the time. Life is real. Myself, an imaginary existence. Friends Don’t Make You Imaginary.

883 Days Without B III, Day 324 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 365 ~Virgil, These Endings B…~

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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~

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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 362 ~Ways To B, Virgil~

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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

Saga 360 ~Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords~

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Cut it out! This being afraid crap. If I could write something like Be Not So Fearful. Hell! More like Game Of Thrones… which made tons? With or without cash, I’d be afraid. No blades, no bows, leave your weapons here. “Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords.”

Monday, June 26, 2023

Saga 360 ~Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I can pay people to be eloquent for me. Even with money, I’m afraid, Madam.

I’m sure I’ll be saying that in a brothel someday. But yesterday, I was coming back to the house, and I breathed, “I’m afraid all the time.” That’s the last thing I need, Madam Justice. To sound like Ellie from The Last of Us. I have plenty of knives. But you know I’m not a cutter. Even if that nail fell off my thumb yesterday evening. I’m not for self-mutilation. That’s a step too far. It was only a nail. But hell, Madam! Everything in this existence feels like a step too far or at least in the wrong direction. That’s if I bother getting out from beneath the covers at all. Ask me where I am right now, Madam. It’s part fear, part laziness.

I’m CUTTING time out of this existence sitting here and again; why is that, Madam? Yesterday. The start of this week. When I spell out my six impossible things. Hell! I can relate all those things to cutting. There’s opening a book… And didn’t I say I wasn’t getting any wiser from doing so? I’m as bad as Moms For Liberty and the GOP assholes. I’m tearing myself to pieces. When it comes to looking at my son. Did I forget to mention Braxton… almost? I still have his two books, but what about editing GULP, the poetry book? How I hate editing. And am I afraid of being cut to shreds by critics anytime? Madam, I might as well cut up any cash today.

Which, of course, leads me to my favorite thing… Pretty Piece of Flesh. Pic Phenomenon? Only I don’t need any blade for that. Even with my effed-up thumb, I can still get my pants off. And this existence for me. Besides caring for my little boy. This existence has been all about getting women out of their clothes. With enough money or know-how. People with sharp minds, Madam. I was reading the other day and saw “GPA.” How I cut “mine” to ribbons. I would rather cut my flesh. Again I’m not a cutter. But something? Braxton’s tattoos? Would that make me brave, like holding a sword? M Anime, Braxton’s Aunt, and Cherry. They’re fighting their battles. I’m afraid Madam… Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords

876 Days Without B III, Day 317 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will