Tag: Write

Tale 055 ~That’ll B Virgil’s “Weekness”~

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It is not weak to value life. I valued Braxton’s one way, and Virgil’s the other. And if I wasn’t on the cusp of E-Day… One more week. And then what? Next week will be more of the same, and then… And here come the tears. That’ll B Virgil’s “Weekness”

Friday, August 25, 2023

Tale 055 ~That’ll B Virgil’s “Weekness”~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I can create my own word. Happiness will never become me. And The Ten Commandments…

“You lost him when he went to seek his God. I lost him when he found his God.” ― Sephora

Whether it be that mere minutes ago, I was lost in “The Pic Phenomenon.” You know my weakness so well. And yes, I can spell Sophia. Or is it the thought of one week remaining? Either way, I was led to the word of “God” this morning. Necromancy now Christianity?

Hell! If I believe in anything, it’s in my little boy, my son B. The little God that he is. He couldn’t save me at 37, 38. Only here we are a week away from 39. What the Hell am I going to do? We’ll get to that. Haven’t I been saying that for years, Sophia? Here we are approaching the 39th E-Day. Emergence, Existence, Extinction. It’s about damn time… To go? What about Virgil?

Didn’t I say something about Virgil not being Braxton’s reincarnation this past week? If anything, I am a weakness that the two of them share. Braxton didn’t want to go, and Virgil asked me to stay. It sucks to be V for the moment because he thought this week was hard. Well, next week… I guess it could be worse. The Day Job demands. And while I’m speaking of a Day Job, a business? “My” favorite hot dog place closed down on Wednesday. I couldn’t even treat myself to one more pepper dog, Sophia. Inevitable. Isn’t it? Time! Now that Lady Sophia is a major weakness. Time, Titties, Tears. And the little two-year-old at the end of the bed. That, again, (sigh) ain’t my son.

No! My child died on Sunday, January 31, 2021, at 15. That’s around 76-80 human years. Seeing as how he was on the cusp of being 16. B III was/is so strong. Existing hasn’t made me so. I wish I had never emerged. And extinction? Olds called? They haven’t yet. But supporting a “man,” that’s 39. Who needs that kind of weakness? Jigsaw would have a field day with me. Something to do with the survival instinct… Sophia, I am still here. It’s what I tell everyone. So, shouldn’t that tell me something about my strengths and weaknesses? I have one more week to figure it out. But then what I ask will come next. Hell! One last book to read… That’ll B Virgil’s “Weekness”

936 Days Without B III, Day 377 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 048 ~Braxton, The End, Virgil~

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“My” story, me existing… It’s a bit like the Bible. I never read it all. Has a lesson here or there, B, a time in high school, B’s aunt, M anime. But the story shouldn’t be taken as gospel. And don’t burn it, like my B was. Braxton, The End, Virgil

Friday, August 18, 2023

Tale 048 ~Braxton, The End, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But I have a feeling that’s not how the story will end. Only it should end.

My favorite critic, of course, was railing about why I must sound all depressive. And how many days have I talked about Braxton? 929 days and counting. Braxton’s story ended. And mine should have ended there as well at the age of 36. And here I am, turning 39 ha. That’s nothing to laugh at. But don’t I remember what day it is? Someone’s birthday. Happy Birthday, M Anime!!! Welcome to Level 35! I envy you. Given your years, I’d… Well, we’ll get to that, won’t we, Lady Sophia? But for now, it’s Braxton’s story. Or that’s what I should say. On top of everything else, there’s been guilt with a book I’ve read. Hmm? It has nothing to do with dead fur babies. Hamster?

No, the hamster is alive and well. Even Grayson’s relationships are working out great with Robyn, his English Rose. And Julia the witch. Two sets of Yabbos, I swear, Sophia. Yes, it’s Friday. But I figured it would take me longer to get through Satan’s Sorority Girls 2 by Eric Vall. There was a moment this morning after I realized Braxton wasn’t stepping on my head. And when I did a morning meditation. Anyway, what came next was the idea that I could become a harem romance writer. But it’s too late for that, Sophia. Inevitably, E-Day will come -Emergence, Existence, Extinction. And my Olds will realize that I’m 39. There’s comfort in the fact that if they wanted to cut me off… why wait?

Why wait? As I look at the nightstand beside me. It’s an altar to the end of all things, yep. On top is B III’s shrine. There are his ashes, condolence card, cremation certificate, etc. In the middle are a few knives. An emergency fund. Braxton’s aunt’s wedding card. Oops! In the next drawer are more weapons that scare me to even look at these days. All I’ve been feeling. And the last drawer is empty. I want to say since I quit “adult entertaining.” Myself, of course. And that’s why I’m rushing to finish Eric Vall’s book. And all the “anime” I’ve seen on Twitter. Wanting more it never ends, Lady Sophia. This depression, disease of existence, deviancy. “My” story… Braxton, The End, Virgil

929 Days Without B III, Day 370 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 041 ~Virgil Reads Braxton’s Ending~

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I’m sure wherever Braxton is, he’s learned to read now. I would tell him stories… The ones that didn’t involve this or that. Anyway, I think about how our story ended… And if I could rewrite it? But I’m not with the GOP. Virgil Reads Braxton’s Ending

Friday, August 11, 2023

Tale 041 ~Virgil Reads Braxton’s Ending~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. It’s more like I’m rushing to read all about it. Or better. Checking the fence today

That’s something I’m not looking forward to. But I wasn’t eager for B’s passing either. Lady Sophia, if you had told me the story would end with me murdering my best friend in the world… I swear I’m not learning anything from these books on grieving fur buddies. Euthanasia, AKA the “good death.” Braxton’s gone, I’m guilty. I’m not good. Hell! I’m reading the reference section from Pawprints on the Heart. I need every word. I’m so used to not finishing anything. Remember a couple of days back, I got into working on one of the novels? I paid $300 for a book I haven’t sent in. Going on four years, to be honest. If Virgil could read, Braxton says, “it is what it is.”

And that’s why we ain’t got no money. But the fence held up to the storm. Glory Hallelujah! I said that before checking because I’ve been lying here looking for a birthday gift for M Anime. Um, that soon turned into looking for a gift for myself. What was that? M Anime wants seeds for her garden. I want to see her with less clothing. Lest we forget, what else do I want, Lady Sophia? When Braxton was on his last legs. He could always count on me to bring back fries. My payday was better than I expected yesterday. Hallelujah! No, I’m not finding religion. Between this week and the next… No money for the church. What about a tip? I didn’t say that, did I? Or think it?

Lady Sophia, that’s like saying “adult entertainment” is free. I don’t have to spend money on OnlyFans. A few months back, I figured I was in trouble with The Pic Phenomenon. And this morning, I was looking up Elegant Moments Style 1404, for real. But I got “bills” to pay as an almost thirty-nine-year-old man. If it’s not the fence, it’s what my Olds will say come E-Day. I won’t pay for a man’s sausage biscuit. That’s what my father told me at church when I was young. I agree. Incredible right? Anyway, speaking of spending more money, Satan’s Sorority Girls 2 has come out. Ok, should I read it? No one will be reading about me dying soon… But, Virgil? Virgil Reads Braxton’s Ending

922 Days Without B III, Day 363 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 034 ~Virgil Knows, B’s Tales~

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Who do I tell when there’s nothing they can do? Braxton couldn’t save himself. But he fought to live so he could save me. “How to Save a Life.” I can’t fix the floor or fence or find a dentist for my face.” I’d tell B. And V? Virgil Knows, B’s Tales.

Friday, August 4, 2023

Tale 034 ~Virgil Knows, B’s Tales~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. That doesn’t make me benevolent. I’m neither brave nor bold. Balance isn’t helping this scared BOY!

It’s such an ugly word in how it’s spoken in this country. Not that I’ve heard it from a white person lately… We’ll get to that. I’m more concerned with the man in the mirror. No! The BOY. That’s what I am, Lady Sophia, a pathetic (puss… censored) poor BOY. Yeah? Should I start singing, “I’m just a poor boy; nobody loves me.” Yesterday… Please! But Virgil did try. I don’t talk to him about Braxton often. Only I was lying here crying about the rain… Again, we’ll get to that because, as the song goes, “I’m only happy when it rains.” Or I once was, but with everything coming down on me these days. Anyway, Virgil attempted to cuddle me, and I fell asleep.

Two things, Lady Sophia. One, I’m never happy. Two, when Braxton was here. It didn’t matter what happened as long as I was wrapped around him. He would somehow wind himself around whatever was hurting me… Which explains why he was constantly stepping on my head. Or the way he would watch over me always. I was safe, protected, and loved. Lady Sophia, a boy, and his dog. If I ever published that story, I wouldn’t be in the mess I am now. And truth be told, I want to make a mess I’ll never have to clean up. Ever! So, let’s start at the beginning. I’m “Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal.” Every day now. And of all the STUPID reasons, the fence is broken.

I’m 38, OK, Lady Sophia, and I have no idea what I will do. Call my Dad? Oh God! Well, not doing anything to help myself, I cut some weeds off the opposite fence. I then decided to check the route Braxton and I would walk behind the houses here. Those were much better days. Anyway, this guy calls out and asks if I live here. Then he asks where before he accuses me of trying to steal some bikes. “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.” And so was he, Sophia. A black man! Not a white guy, a Karen, or M Anime and her… Racism? Existing has always been too much for me. No fairytale world Virgil Knows, B’s Tales.

915 Days Without B III, Day 356 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 027 ~Sick Of B, Virgil~

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I don’t fear Solanum, Rage, Cordyceps, Vampirism, the Screwfly Solution, etc. For most of those, you’re dead or facing extinction. Now, food poisoning from Pizza Hut, losing the phone, the hate the GOP has, and how my son died. Sick of B, Virgil

Friday, July 28, 2023

Tale 027 ~Sick Of B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And short of bringing Braxton back… Money don’t buy happiness. But courage? Freedom from FEAR? Uh…

Those aren’t the same thing. Hell! This morning, I could find you a ton of memes, hmm. Isn’t that how we all do our reading nowadays? And I’m looking up courage and hope like it’s candy in my pocket. Wasn’t that from the 1997 film The Postman? More to read… I should be looking up why Virgil seems to be sick. If this were Braxton and I wasn’t pissed about the Day Job. Today, though, it’s not rage. Okay, that’s a lie. There’s a bit. Sophia, I could be reading about dead fur babies. That’s like my bread and butter, so I may never forget what I did to Braxton. My son, sick as he was, and how I failed him. There’s the phone too.

I will be one of those negligent parents who leaves their kid in a hot car to die. Huh. Accidently. But I am worried about the phone. Did Virgil puke on it with his sickness? Why do you think I’m up now? While I’m busy trying or instead not trying to quote movies, Fear, uh? It doesn’t shut you down; it wakes you up. That’s from Divergent. I can’t stand Arron Rodgers. And I’m disappointed that Shailene Woodley “Tris” was ever with him. Eff no! Oh! Here’s something you thought you would never read from me. Sophia, I hate SEX! Now, that’s the sickness I should be worried about. But with all the Fear that’s coursing through my veins. Quarantine. Now, that’s what’s driving me.

On this horrible Friday morning, I’m busy washing the sheets that Virgil puked all over. Even money has taken a backseat with all the cleaning stuff I should buy. Veterinarian? I’m not going yet. But isn’t that the mistake I made with Braxton? Shouldn’t I be in his room now, watching over Virgil? He walked Dante through Hell, but giving it, I swear, my lady. All he does is remind me of my failure. Like scam emails, Braxton’s pictures, etc. Uh, the phone that I should be worried about if it’s ruined or not. I can’t stop the Fear. There are books? Please tell me Succubus 8 ends well. To be continued? Are there more? Braxton was one of a kind. Sick Of B, Virgil?

908 Days Without B III, Day 349 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 020 ~B Has Writes Virgil~

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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

Lesson 254 ~Write Where They “WILL” See~

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People are frightened by silence, but while they fear to shut-up, I am afraid to speak because even now I can imagine what’s going on upstairs in their brains, and what is going on in mine at any one time. Write Where They “WILL” See, maybe not?

Monday, March 12, 2018

Lesson 254 ~Write Where They “WILL” See~

Twenty-Third Rule Madam Justice

I Am Not Afraid Anymore, but perhaps I am a fool because war doesn’t frighten me, hell what do I know about war, as a matter of fact, what do I know about writing? The things I dreamed as a child, there was a point where I wanted to be the Secretary of Defense, and while I still envision such power, you must start with one’s self, so I sought to be a journalist, a wartime journalist to be precise.

“I didn’t think I could stop the war. I just thought maybe, I might try and understand one.
Maybe help folks back home understand. I just figure I could do that better… shooting a camera than I could shooting a rifle.” We Were Soldiers (2002)

Now ask me why I’m not a psychopath Madam Justice; I couldn’t tell you the names of the living or the dead in any of the shootings running rampant, how many novels could I outline at the moment, what about all the things that Trump has said? Grab them by the pussy; not eloquent, or profound words but they resonant and sad to say, what I strive for as a writer, words that cannot know avoidance, dismissal, or forgetfulness. Hell, there are words that I didn’t read like “The Harmonic War,” that are a physical illness. There are friends I have lost that I can never forget, and my god we’re here day two-hundred and fifty-four and I still think about being called “skeevy,” that just resonates in my skull.

Write Where They Will See, is, unfortunately, a rule I still refuse to live up to because of my fear but when I write, I want my words written in your bathroom mirror, I want you to see yourself through my eyes. I want my words scribbled on your skull, a white room for your brain where you sit in the middle wondering is it you or me. My words should be so freaking painful that you go to a website and you hold your hand up trying to block the words on Google, that for days on end you’re looking around wondering, do they know, am I this thing; I’m a horrible writer right?

Even now Madam Justice I am incapable of hurting anybody, only myself, at work today I told the general manager that with how he feels about the first amendment, I couldn’t speak up. I don’t think anybody sees us, but that has got to change, I refuse to lie amongst the dead a name and nothing more, they took that, she stole that. Only my dream is to write my name across the sky, to echo like thunder, to rage like the winds, to drown some in their tears, and leave nothing of the man they think me to be.

No pages, no blogs, no comments, not anything but the truth; how to do that, Write Where They “WILL” See.

First Amendment Bill Of Rights

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 182 ~Yearly Revolution, Evolution, Resolutions~

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Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve, and on Monday I will yet again be reborn, but will I still be in the same place, if I can’t get out of bed for one night, how best to do what I should be doing for the new year? “Yearly Revolution, Evolution, Resolutions

Saturday, December 30, 2017

Lesson 182 ~Yearly Revolution, Evolution, Resolutions~

Hey Lady Lu,
No Fear, if I could but leave it in the past, the end of this year, I don’t know whether to be glad, sad, feel bad, excuse the rhymes but that is yet one more thing that has not changed. It’s like the eye doctor always asks, better, worse, or about the same, and I’m pleased if things remain but I shouldn’t.

1. See Braxton through another year
2. Write 400 words on workdays (Goal 120,000)
3. Write 5000 words on off days (Goal 120,000)
4. Sleep with a different girl a month (and, or) have a girlfriend
5. Buy a cookbook
6. Participate in NaNoWriMo (novel in a month) 50,000 words
7. Finish repairs (Back Fence, Refrigerator Light, Car, etc.)
8. Publish a poetry book
9. Collect more than 4,000 dollars in 52 Week Money challenge
10. Read for an hour and a half every day

Last year’s list of resolutions, high hopes but Braxton is alive, and I hope happy, I didn’t write 400 words a day until we began talking again but I have finished my 120,000-word novel “Some Assembly Required” that’s still a working title of course. This whole year I haven’t slept with one girl, and though I could have had one, I didn’t take the opportunity or speaking of which buy a cookbook either. I did complete NaNoWriMo “The Keys To Life” working title, I got a new car and did minor household stuff, no book of poetry, barely over 2,000 dollars, and reading… my lowest score in a reading challenge with 26 books so no.

2018 Resolutions:
1. See Braxton through another year
2. Continue to write my blog, at least 400 words daily and gain a profit
3. Complete one novel without NaNoWriMo
4. Sleep with a different girl a month (and, or) have a girlfriend/submissive
5. Read over 25 books one being a cookbook
6. Participate in NaNoWriMo (a novel in a month) 50,000 words
7. Finish all repairs (Back Fence, Refrigerator Light, Car, etc.)
8. Publish two books, poetry and novel
9. Collect more than 4,000 dollars in 52 Week Money challenge
10. Read for an hour and a half every day

Does it look like I’m even attempting to evolve, to rebel, of course, Braxton always comes first, and I bought everything I needed for a blog in September didn’t I and if I call myself a writer, shouldn’t I be going to work on that? I have to get out of this house and start hitting Books-A-Million, Starbucks, the library again, maybe even try Target because of Indiana Gone put it “bitches love Target”; and I should have a girl before November. I know I have skills, hell I built a coffee table, wrote a book, and if I publish I should have money and time honestly am I right?

What happened to me Lady Luna, where is the impossible, immoral, illegal, and insane, Tony Montana, of course, has it right, you have to work, you have to make money. As the song goes it’s a Bittersweet Symphony, and I can change, but then I look at this year. Now that should be the most significant fear, that I will still be sitting here, same as I was last year, fighting a stomachache, hiding in the house, with too much to read and not enough to write but another excuse, a wish, and some dream.

So what have I learned today, to be me and then not so, other than Braxton’s life, make my life so I just might need new Yearly Revolution, Evolution, Resolutions?

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 163~How To Write, Just Bleed~

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Nothing has ever come close to destroying me more than words have, and maybe these pages only serve as a reminder that the wound is there and then I rip them off and throw them in the trash. How To Write Just Bleed.

Monday, December 11. 2017

Lesson 163~How To Write, Just Bleed~

Tenth Rule Madam Justice,
No Fear, the first name on the list is mine own, the old story of the first word I ever wrote, my first victim who is me because maybe I knew what was coming, perhaps I wanted to do the world a favor. The thing is Madam Justice; I don’t die, people say that women talk too much, people also say “I don’t trust anything that bleeds for a week and doesn’t die” another shot at women, so what kind of man does that make me.

With my writing, I think it both hurts and helps me; most days especially like today I feel like dying, and then I expect my words actually to give me the life that I deserve. Sometimes I do use words to hurt other people, whether intentional or not another saying, about the pen to the sword, which I can believe. What about other people’s words, I thought about that bitch you know who and her words ripped into me, but I’m still here, every now and again I just have to pull the Band-Aid off.

The best art comes from suffering, of course, that’s just a personal opinion but some create such beauty and what do I make… if anything we just want to see it, the mess. Burn books, then burn people but nothing seems to quench the flames does it, so maybe that’s why I bleed more because I know I’m going to Hell. So why do I make Hell even bigger or perhaps I’m trying to drown myself, blood, sweat, tears, and yes Madam Justice cum too, it all hits the page.

Could it be as in Fight Club, that I want to destroy something beautiful and isn’t that something, there is so much beauty in the world, so it will take something hideous to be recognized by anyone. I know I am coming up with theory after theory, so I present you with another if this is my “suicide note,” relax Madam Justice something I heard from Fear The Walking Dead. Anyway, suicide is a solo act; some say a selfish one, so I hurt myself, I write not caring if anyone sees the outcome right?

Writing is why I continue down this road, the typing dead, the write one dead, one more thing, I write to remember and so that’s How To Write Just Bleed.

I Will Have No Fear