Tale 020 ~B Has Writes Virgil~

I write every day. Or should I say I always write lies? Who knows if I keep up at this pace. Maybe the heat will get to me. But Virgil’s here. If only I took that advice to write the truest sentence I know. Braxton is gone. “B Has Writes Virgil”

Friday, July 21, 2023

Tale 020 ~B Has Writes Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But at thirty-eight, do I know how to write a check yet? Right now, I don’t.

Once upon a time, I dreamed of those huge checks from Publishers Clearing House (sigh). Last night, though, it was all Taylor Swift. And not in a, she’s naked, let me break a few laws, sort of way. She didn’t write a book, did she? I must check Amazon because I dreamt I bought it and somebody else’s book, too. Lady Sophia, every day I’m losing more money. And with everything going on, Facebook hackers, scammers last night, madness. Speaking of things, I should be writing. What about a balanced budget? Desire is desire. And yes, Sophia, I failed to keep my pants on last night. Stress! That’s no excuse, and yet here we are. Without a full belly. A new book. I need Braxton.

Did you think I’d forget about him? Yesterday was a relatively easy day, considering. Don’t get me wrong, humiliations galore. I couldn’t buy any snacks at all, Lady Sophia. For the first time ever, I forgot about Replika and had to start the week over. There were also other apps and such. Hell! I woke up at 3:00 in the morning today with all the lights still on. That is a drawback to getting hooked on energy shots again. I thought I could stay up. Didn’t I mention I couldn’t keep my pants on? It wasn’t Taylor. Nope! An English blonde. Anyway, I will never forget my son. Oh! So I can write lies? Because if I hadn’t forgotten about him… Braxton would be alive.

So, every day, I tell myself that I signed “my” name. And the only thing people ever read from me was my consent to put my only love in the ground. Well, the oven, whatever. Sorry, I have a “slight” attitude. Again, last night, I was talking to “someone,” and I hung up in their face. And much like with Facebook, I’m sitting here terrified I might lose it all. And that ain’t much when I can’t keep a full stomach. Lady Sophia, there’s Virgil. Keeping that little ball of fluff alive… It means fixing the air conditioner. Air filter. Another day I’ll spend avoiding it, which scares me to death. I have no rights where my father’s concerned. But Braxton. B Has Writes Virgil.

901 Days Without B III, Day 342 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 018 ~Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil~

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 016 ~All Men Fear; Cowards Run~

When Braxton was dying… When I stank up my granddad’s funeral… When they tell me I got the day off? If some chick is about to get naked for me. Having to say, V is more than the new guy. And going to bed. Running’s existing. All Men Fear; Cowards Run

Monday, July 17, 2023

Tale 016 ~All Men Fear; Cowards Run~

Three-Hundredth Rule Madam Justice

I AM a Billionaire right now. So my biggest fear must be losing all this money. A people’s uprising? Taxes? Hell! With these finances now…

Braxton will always be my greatest fear. I swear, Madam, I was talking with… um myself last night. And I was thinking about that song that goes, “Fear is the heart of love.” Madam, fear is not a means to love. Anyone who uses it to justify love is undeserving of it —God, the government, B’s granddaddy. His repairman’s visiting today… FUCK! Pardon my French. Anyway, I wasn’t scared of but was terrified for Braxton every day. But I talk all the time about fatherhood and manhood. And when Braxton Barks passed… Well, I’m still a man ain’t I? If I listened to Republicans… Because, oh, how I adore titties. Haven’t I been all about censorship the past few days? But it’s “Times Like These.”

If you only knew how badly I want to run, Madam. Because as I said, my “father’s” friend Bill is coming. Do you remember how much money I burned last year? I might as well start flushing it down the toilet now. Speaking of which, I’ll blow chunks any minute. Madam, that was a bit TMI, wasn’t it? But what else can I tell you? Of everything that’s coming to mind, again, I’m “Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal.” “America, America.” I’m one of those that live paycheck to paycheck. But it ain’t Republicans robbing me. Madam, if anything, I’m a spoiled brat at thirty-eight. Eff me! Where does the time go, Madam? If it ain’t bile and brains all over the place. I should sweep…

Oh, we both know what I’m doing most of the time. So I’m scared it might be like a drug. Running? What did you expect me to say, Madam? Yeah, I know, I know. Fucking! Language, I know, and I apologize. But yes, I’m usually running into sets of Yabbos. Bullies are about as plentiful. And I’m running away from them or people in general. Books could save me. Or so I once believed if I would write one, edit, and then publish, Madam. But I’m running from being busy with anything (sigh), writing some actual words, or even the Day Job. I’m running right back to bed. But I can’t stay here today, Madam. There’s Virgil to protect too… All Men Fear; Cowards Run

897 Days Without B III, Day 338 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 014 ~Braxton Tells Tales Virgil~

Braxton would tell me stories with every breath he took. When he would step on my face waking me up. With the wag of his tail. Paws clicking on the floorboards. Leave it to me to destroy them. And my stories? Hideous. Braxton Tells Tales Virgil.

Saturday, July 15, 2023

Tale 014 ~Braxton Tells Tales Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning there are no flimsy floorboards. No calls to “father.” And no failures of my manhood.

Not in this house. But you know what else isn’t here? Braxton. Because he’s dead. Lunalesca, what’s one more reason to cry, hmm? Hell! “Woke Up This Morning…” Uh yeah, I got myself a gun. I’ve had that one since April 2020. Had to protect B and I, you know. Anyway, I haven’t killed anyone… Lies! What did I say? My son is dead! Lunalesca, that, of course, was a euthanasia situation. The pen is mightier than the sword. Or the keyboard. That’s one of the reasons I’m crying right now. Plus, um, strawberry jelly… At least it ain’t blood. Only that doesn’t explain what’s coming out of the floorboards. Yesterday I did try looking. But Daddy? It is the beating of his hideous heart.

I wouldn’t be in this mess if I could write like Edgar Allan Poe. B III would be here, Lu. Now it might be my Dad. So I should be getting out of this bed, shouldn’t I? Hmm. If not for him, I need more food. But where did all the money go? What about next week with the hours I worked? Uh, six… I should be worrying about the growling in my belly Lunalesca. Instead, I’m crying about all the blinks and bloops of the screen before me. That isn’t doing a damn thing, Lunalesca. As if I got money for a new computer, phone, tablet, etc. I bet if the first thing on my mind was some comedic redhead’s dirty pillows… I’d work…

Wasn’t I talking about Soredemo Tsuma wo Aishiteru and Shiori from Rinkan Club yesterday morning? And I can’t say I’ve ever been one for Sir Mix-a-Lot’s ideology on the female anatomy. Is that my way of saying I like, um, another part? Damn censorship, Lu. If I was worried about big butts, well, small ones, that’s keeping Virgil’s tail wagging. Even now. I’m sure he’s wondering what’s wrong with everything. But for now, sleep, V. I wish I could go back to sleep. M Anime was saying she wanted to sleep for a long time. I can’t talk a woman into sex. What makes you think I can be a wonderful counselor, Lady Lunalesca? “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” Braxton Tells Tales Virgil

895 Days Without B III, Day 336 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 013 ~Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs~

It’s not the worst story I ever told. No! I wrote that one an hour after B III died, as I sat on the steps Sunday, January 31, 2021. The step 2V lies on like his legs are broken. Broke, busted. Existence breaks me. Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs.

Friday, July 14, 2023

Tale 013 ~Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And though I’m not agoraphobic, I’d never leave the house again. But let’s start with downstairs.

And I can already tell you this will not be a “Happy” tale. Hell! Or a story at all since I can’t write one of those to save my existence. Camp NaNoWriMo month, and I’ve done… Anyway, “Don’t Worry Be Happy” have more confidence and censorship. Lady Sophia, why am I paying people to tell me I’m effing up everything. Critics, the Day Job, and V. Well, that’s mean against Virgil Vivi, right? I’m no friend of his at the moment. But I did mention him before B, which is a first. I need my fluids. Uh, depression doesn’t help. Crying, amongst other things… but we’ll get to that. Only what about the story, Sophia? Virgil peed on the carpet. He’s sitting on the stairs.

Sad story? We were getting ready for bed, and it was raining outside, so he didn’t want to go out. V decides to go potty on the floor, and I kick him out of the room for 24 hours. Before leaving, I moved the gate so he could walk around. He’s been staring from the stairs ever since. Sophia, you can see why I’ll never be some award-winning author, right? I can’t even get it up to go downstairs to the dining room table because I’m afraid of how the hardwood floor will look. Again everyone telling me about existence. But to fix it? Blah! I instead read sad stories about other people. I swear if Bryn doesn’t leave Julian… Buried Deep in our Hearts

Dead fur babies, divorces, and other things less than desirable. Far better than the things I’ve been looking up this AM. I swear, My Lady, I couldn’t write “decent” pornography. Soredemo Tsuma wo Aishiteru and Shiori from Rinkan Club. I am so going to Hell. Which starts with going downstairs and deciding if being alive or alive outside is worse. Oh! It’s going outside, no doubt. And no, I don’t mean because of summertime weather. Now more than ever, I want that billion. I could be all like Trump down the escalator and take the rest of the world to the Ninth Circle with me. As always, my Republican ideas. Because I’m broke, bare flooring, bed, my belly. Bank account (sigh). Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs

894 Days Without B III, Day 335 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 011 ~Happiness’s A B, Virgil~

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~

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~

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~

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~

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