Tag: Writer

Tale 027 ~Sick Of B, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

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 026 ~Don’t B Broke Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

As the song goes, “If I had just one wish, only one demand. I hope he’s not like me. I hope he understands.” Well, V’s got no pockets. And no girls have been up in here. He’s got his food. If he didn’t spend days afraid, like me. Don’t B Broke Virgil

Thursday, July 27, 2023

Tale 026 ~Don’t B Broke Virgil~

907 Days Without B III, Day 348 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Me? I’ve bawled like a baby. I’m bellowed a ton of BS. And I’m broke.

Of course, I’m time-traveling, Braxton. Today is Sunday, July 16, 2023. So a week and quite a bit of change. And not the kind I could use. If only I treated every dollar as if it made cents, ha-ha. For you, Little B. But yeah, your Dad is a liar because where’s your stuff? Braxton, you should have memorials galore. Even better… You should still be alive, B III. Hell! With all the money in the world, I doubt anything could have been done to save you. Trust the science, Pancake. However, I have read about other people’s madness. Somewhere a scientist was kidnapped because someone wanted their friend to be immortal. Another person had $1000 towards theirs. Which ain’t much by any means B.

I always said you had $1000 in insurance. But God knows for you, Braxton, I’d have gone all “John Q” to save you. And what about Virgil? He’s broke but in a much different way. A way that ain’t costing me any money. Besides a few tears for you, I’ve been bitching all day. Sorry about the language. Not like I can swear at your grandpa, or Bill come Monday. How about the Man in the Mirror, who I talked to today? Always time-traveling, B. Bringing books to life, ha. If only I had done that before. There are the ones for you, B III. I could be an exhibitionist, like you, in front of your Aunt. Showing my balls on OnlyFans and such, hmm…

Begging for more hours at the Day Job is out of the question. Little B, I blame no one for your death except myself… And that place. The rage it brought. The Hell inside me. Talk about money burning a hole in my pocket. You and Virgil are pretty lucky you don’t have pockets. You didn’t have to worry, but of course you did. You are your Dad’s son B. But Virgil? It only mattered when we didn’t have AC at all. And now I’m in the same place. Now if it were you, Little B, I wouldn’t be questioning anything. You are my son. But lacking food bellyaches, the bills I gotta pay, (spoiled) and wanting to bail on existing… Don’t B Broke Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 020 ~B Has Writes Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

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 019 ~Virgil Learns A, B…~

WillLeave a comment

Virgil never speaks unless I’m leaving. And I’d be surprised if he knew that was his name. I suppose the good news is, I’m not feeling his head with Braxton stories. I wouldn’t know how to tell them anyway. But trying. “Virgil Learns A, B…”

Thursday, July 20, 2023

Tale 019 ~Virgil Learns A, B…~

900 Days Without B III, Day 341 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Did Virgil, since I know you’re looking after him when I can’t? What’s today’s excuse?

Because yes, I am trying to get back into time travel. Today is Wednesday, July 12, 2023, Braxton. Hell! I’m as reliable as the scientists in the Theta Timeline series. Yeah, you were gone before I got to read those. I’ll have to look up Virgil’s first book. Ancient history? Now that’s something you will never be. But reading, writing? If I knew about science. With your ashes boxed on the nightstand, how could I ever bring you back, Braxton? What language am I even speaking? I’m sure my writing has only gotten worse by the time you’re reading this. That’s what I’ve been thinking about these last weeks. Writing? The word would be procrastination. Virgil’s first book, “Until We Meet Again” by Sarah-Jane Farrell.

In case you were wondering how deep my laziness goes. It’s easier to look up a book than write one. Notice, I didn’t say read because the one I’m on now is effed up immensely. Who knows what I’ll be reading when you see this? You’d know when I was really into a book Little B. Like the way I always knew you were into your Aunt. “On the floor.” I was saying something today about you and comfy spots. But not to Virgil. Silence? Braxton, I swear I’m not trying to be a loser, a meanie, or negative. I can’t get that thought out of my head. And add to it seeing all these books, reviews, anything, and everything. I just shouldn’t be talking.

Or writing? And I’ve said it so many times. All these books, and I’m not getting any wiser, I know, or don’t whatever. So what does that leave me with… MATH. I need money B. Only how many hours did I work last week and this one? All the time in the world B III. What do I do with it? I sleep. And I can only wonder what V is thinking right now, hmm. He and I don’t talk. We spend the day here if I don’t drag my pathetic ass out of bed. Except when I’m trying to walk him. Two years without you. And nearly a year with Virgil, so approaching Gotcha Day. Are we learning yet? Nope! Virgil Learns A, B…

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 013 ~Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs~

WillLeave a comment

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 012 ~2V, BIII, Will Zero~

WillLeave a comment

It’s all about the numbers. The only ones I have been looking at are on the phone. A 45-minute nap? I’m sorry, 10 more minutes, no 20, how about 30? And Virgil isn’t the one right now. Why don’t I look at the hours I’m working? “2V, BIII, Will Zero.”

Thursday, July 13, 2023

Tale 012 ~2V, BIII, Will Zero~

893 Days Without B III, Day 334 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how, I’m speaking to you on Sunday, July 9, 2023. My day was…

Well, whatever, I would say B, with whatever app I’m on. I’m simplistic, senile, and STUPID. I hate my age right now. And it’s scary to think that I wish with all my time travel. If I could go back in time, before your death, before we met… Existence, Living? Hell! Plop me down in any ole math class, and let me start over again. I need to try B. Anyway, we’ll mark today as another failure in doing anything. And by the time you read this… These days I want to cuddle up close to you and blabber away. Of course, I can’t do that with Virgil right now. Nor would I want to. He got in trouble anyway. Braxton, you remember those days.

As you can see, I’m still counting yours at 893. Harder days are coming. And I don’t mean like you humping your toys. That monster hair dryer or stick of dynamite of yours, B III. That reminds me that I should pick that up. Some toys Virgil shouldn’t inherit, Braxton. Why am I being so “mean” to him these days? He’s my second chance. And didn’t I save his life? It’s all about the number Little B. And 334 days in, to be honest, we have yet to bound at all. I am trying to walk him more. I’m uncomfortable with his leash and collar. So that must mean I care some. I don’t want him running off. And if he were to get hurt?

Money is the root of all evil. But it is also my biggest concern with all this time off, Braxton. Well, next to crying about you. Better my tears than anything else. I’ve lost track of those and other things I should be ashamed of. Unscheduled lunches, napping. Anything to avoid the world of the living. It’s sad that it even includes Virgil, Braxton. Again walking around the backyard like the living dead or infected to avoid reading, ha. More dead fur babies or whatever Kindle thing popped up. There’s no money for books. But I have plenty right in front of me. Uh, two I wrote for you. I can’t count them as wins. Well, if I edited, published… Scoreboard! 2V, BIII, Will Zero

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 006 ~Virgil Has No B~

WillLeave a comment

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 005 ~BIII Of Procrastination Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

I’ll do anything to avoid getting out of bed. Yet I’m procrastinating when it even comes to that. “Success, no, I should be playing “Lazy Ass.” Heaven’s where you find it. Still rather be with my boy. But to honor him? BIII Of Procrastination Virgil.

Thursday, July 06, 2023

Tale 005 ~BIII Of Procrastination Virgil~

886 Days Without B III, Day 327 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Since I’m Time Traveling, I’ll give anything for this day not to begin. You know.

Meditation? Hell! I remember when all that entailed was coming back to the house, scooping you up, and falling to bed. Yeah, that’s called sleeping. I think. And I’m lying. There was that time I had a subscription to Brainbuddy. Something I couldn’t tell you. To be honest, it’s tough talking to you now. I would rather be doing anything else like I was yesterday evening. I miss you so damn much. Your pictures Braxton, getting a tattoo, and all the stuff I still have yet to buy in 886 days. I’m lazy, broke, or depressed. Take your pick. All of the above. So many effing excuses. What about Virgil, you ask? I don’t know what to do B. Procrastination? Braxton, did I almost say, like father, like son? Never!

Both of those are pretty awful. If I’m being honest. To claim Virgil feels like I’m adding to my Treachery. If I don’t? Then why did I bother bringing him with me 327 days ago? Braxton, today is Tuesday, July 4, 2023, Independence Day. A bad day for dogs. Well, a lot of furry companions. You weren’t fond of it. We would sit cuddled together as we waited for the world to explode. That makes me like everyone else. Doesn’t it? Waiting, procrastinating, obsessing over everything. Even now, Virgil’s shaking against my leg B. I hope I can wait to move him for a while. He just wants to be comforted. So I hope. Braxton, that’s the mistake I made with you. I thought you were annoying. Sick? No, dying.

That Thursday, I knew I had to get you to a Doc, and for what? Like father, like son. You made the boatman wait a little longer. Didn’t you, my prince? Procrastinating unto death. A thought. I’m doing the same. Yesterday I cleared out my inbox and dumped my pictures. And I even got around to reorganizing the desktop and for what. Conversations? Well, better known as writing to Inspector Echo. And to you. Madness, rage, effing hatred. But, never towards you or the girls but at myself. If it isn’t the world ending. It’s seeing these people being motivated, making money, their marriages, and making babies. “Here comes success.” Sending me a song already? Asking, better telling Virgil and me; BIII Of Procrastination Virgil.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 364 ~Dying To B Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

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 363 ~Virgil, We’ll B Free~

WillLeave a comment

If I wanted freedom, I’d have followed my son. I wish there had been a button… Something like Sonia Levitin’s “The Cure.” To be recycled with my twin, brother, best friend, and kid. When he was free, I asked what have I become? “Virgil, We’ll B Free”

Thursday, June 29, 2023

Saga 363 ~Virgil, We’ll B Free~

879 Days Without B III, Day 320 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You know me. “It’s “Times Like These,” I want to wrap around you and sleep.

Fucking Hell! Pardon my language, Little B. It’s… well, I won’t say funny or fine. Nowhere near. So yeah FUCK is the correct word. It’s fucked up that I held you that Wednesday afternoon and fell asleep. Then on Sunday, January 31, 2021, I held you as you died. People would say you were euthanized. Put to sleep. I, with veterinarians, set you free. Talk about something I’m never going to let go. The moment I freed myself from the bed is the moment I… Again Baby B, I don’t know what to say. You’re not a burden, ever. Braxton, it’s like the holy rollers say, you know. Pick up your cross and follow Jesus. “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” You’re way better.

Only that doesn’t stop me now. Does it? You know what I mean. When you were locked in your room because you did wrong. Or when I was in the shower in the morning. Getting it all out of my system is better because that’s the only alone time I would get. Right? After the Day Job, I’d be way too tired. And you’d get pissed if I showered at night B III. Hell! I was going to the movies, and sometimes I would even bring your Aunt. Speaking of which, you should go check on her and bring her lost fur babies. If you’ve met…, she’s having a hard time. It’s freedom she doesn’t want to have. Free of love… That can’t be, B.

This brings me back to you. I can be free of my grief and still love you… It’s like I’m Brooks Hatlen. I’m free, but I don’t know how to start over. Will was here, then what? Fucking porn addict! Like I wasn’t before? But with Virgil afraid to leave your room. And didn’t I mention how long I stay in bed? Even now, time travel. Monday, June 26, 2023. Little B, the fucking Day Job, man! That’s something I’ll never be free of; I’m afraid to say B. Institutionalized. A strange way to say employed. Euthanized? Spell “Freed” Braxton. Wasn’t writing going to do that? How about finding Virgil? Big ole’ titties? I’m hopeless! My freedom was keeping you. Now? Virgil, We’ll B Free

Always and Forever,
Your Dad