Author: Will

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

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I had a Christian phase. Gone are the days I “believed” in men. And yet I bend the knee to my Dad, my dirtiness, and most of all, the Day Job. It was worth it to kneel and pat my son’s head. The little god he was. Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets.”

Monday, August 8, 2022

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. And I should continue to do whatever made me those billions, right? My boy B, Boobs, Books?

Not that I ever thought to make a profit off of B. So why have I written two novels about Braxton? Two unpublished stories, I’d say. I haven’t opened the second one since I “finished” it. I hate the idea that a picture is worth “1000 Words.” Need more pictures? Only that would have cost me time, now wouldn’t it, Madam? Fifteen years wasn’t enough? Oh, there’s the expense of it all. I keep going back to the value of cash more than my son. And then I talk this big game of how I would have died for him. But how much of my life did I give to him? My personal brand of heroin, my own “Personal Jesus.” I was “Losing My Religion.”

And I don’t blame the Yabbos for once. Hell! How much money have I saved in the past two weeks? What if we only count today? The investment I made so many years ago. No, not the publishing contract; we’ll get to that. But “The Big One,” to quote GTA V. My permanent slice of TLC “Tits, Lips, and Clits.” To a company that would play god to a certain extent. I haven’t put down my cash this week. Madam, I am weak, being honest. Because I’m no saint, no prophet. I am a sinner looking to make a profit. Isn’t that what today is all about? When you make the object of your devotion lesser than yourself, you can go, “Dollar dollar bill, y’all.”

So is that why I “worship” my Day Job like something out of ancient Egypt… king of kings, god of gods? I swear I have given everything to make some prophet rich. I know it. I sacrificed my firstborn son on the altar of that fucking job. Ignorance, insanity, inevitable. I’m spending what pittance I make not on my puppy but my playthings, pleasures, penis. What about my actual work? Rule #3 “Now The Work Can Begin,” but it never does. As the godhead that I would make myself out to be, does what, Madam? Sits naked in all his glory in bed, cursing the prophets that say this is the American Dream. Believing less in Braxton, Books, “Bitches, man.” Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets”

554 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 037 ~What Comes After B~

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After 553 days, this shouldn’t be brought to you by the letter B. Today is all AD when I’m still wondering about AB. Republican idea to not get over things, I suppose. But I’ll keep the monkey, the Braxton, on my back, thanks. What Comes After B

Sunday, August 7, 2022

Saga 037 ~What Comes After B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but after that, who am I? Better question, who are you? Somebody that doesn’t know the alphabet?

Or you’re someone lost in the past, which explains what you’ve been looking at besides… Anyway, we’ll get to that. Only you “found” this picture of B III. Then again, who knows? You’re not going to delve that far into the past because it hurts too much. Can you feel it? What you don’t feel or even remember. Is this shame from what happened with the Basic Bitch today, or was it yesterday? It’s like how you refuse to say “Another Day” because that indifference got Braxton killed. But also, not all brunettes are created equal. Well, women for that matter, but again we’ll get there. Right now, as the title says, What Comes After B. There is nothing so far. Nothing? Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing, The Story of Us
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Finishing Braxton’s Book For Camp NaNoWriMo
    Completed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 010 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 017 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

This will be the last time I average to hit three things on the list for quite a while. You? Ok, let’s get this out the way since it will keep nagging you. 17 Days is hard to “C.” Ha! Cock! I swear will it get easier or harder? Don’t answer that! But yours is driving you crazy. The first week is always the “hardest?” Over two weeks in and I hit one porn site. Clit, Coochie, Cunt… Things you won’t be getting for E-Day. It’s still far, hmm. Anyway, you should get ahold of the Day Job. With your words towards Cherry and M-Anime? Cum, isn’t happening anytime soon unless you get weak. Think of the worst thing that happened besides Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing, Until we Meet Again
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Finishing Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 017 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

This should be easy since you’re not in the habit of finishing anything. Oh yeah, yourself and the occasional pretty girl. But what other things are you able to finish or get past? Not much. You see that the smallest things seem to stick around. Monkey on your back? B? Your whole world here once revolved around a girl… If that doesn’t sound all Incel. Looking back now, though. Again you can’t even remember being upset. Braxton’s memory will be a lot longer. Can you say eternity? So there is no after B. You’re here. Whenever you’re at the Day Job, that’s what you say. It’s the truth and then not. There’s always more to the story. More letters alphabet-wise. B? What Comes After B?

553 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 036 ~ Let’s B In Reality~

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I can’t say much about the Reality Stone in the MCU. If anything, I’d be better suited to talk about Star Wars. And I could go into graphic detail about Whitney Wright in Prom Night. I wonder why? Because real life sucks, but… Let’s B In Reality or not

Saturday, August 6, 2022

Saga 036 ~ Let’s B In Reality~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means reality is what I make it to be. Say it with me, “Republican Tendencies.”

But instead, I was crying about B III this morning, to be honest. I bawl whenever I’m up at 4:00 AM… ok, 4:15 AM. I find two reasons to cry in the morning. My son or the Day Job. One I want to wake up for. The other… do I want to keep existing? Death! Perhaps that’s what King Théoden would cry out. After seeing again these almost 38 years, I have wasted my existence. Braxton’s red hairdryer monster squeaky toy, lying at the foot of the bed. At least I’m not like some “crazy” people, sleeping with my fur baby’s toy cuddled up next to me. Indeed, I’m a lot worse; a confession that’s better left to Inspector Echo or Dirty Diana. What I cozied up to last night.

No wonder I dreamed about reality shows last night? It could have been all the reading I’ve been doing about the WWE women’s tag titles. I don’t want to read rumors. If anything, I don’t want to read about how I have made it this far, Lu. Contestants said quit. I mean, those many competitors told me to get off the stage and give up on it all, Luna. But do you know what saved me, Lady Lunalesca? Porn! Whitney Wright, to be specific. Lady Lunalesca, I can’t help but question why I think of a particular woman on any occasion like last night. But for sure, our dalliance was more like “The Girl Next Door.” That would be too much like my reality (snickers).

But the real world today consists of a haircut, a visit to PetSmart, and the usual errands for my survival. All for a reality I rather not inhabit. And there is a big fucking reason! Braxton Is Dead; I’ve been telling myself that a lot. Along with what happened on this day in history. Was it on the 7th? Either way, I lost the Basic Bitch, which hurts less than losing my little boy, my B III. The one thing I will claim in this world. Lunalesca, B’s life taken. And as for whatever this is (gestures at myself in bed). If this is reality… I choose to live in fantasies. The Moondust, Sick Fux, WTF! But won’t find Braxton there. Let’s B In Reality.

552 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 035 ~Son Of A B-Word~

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I’ve had a few dogs, but B III was my heart dog, a soulmate, my kid. The only S.O.B. I ever loved. Because I don’t love myself. Plus, my mom is a good woman. Speaking of which, what have I been thinking of lately? “Skip Ad?” Son Of A B-Word

Friday, August 5, 2022

Saga 035 ~Son Of A B-Word~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how can that be when I keep waking up this late? Oh, this week sucked.

So, before I put my mind back into the gutter. Let’s talk about the little S.O.B. who is my son. Don’t get me wrong, Lady Sophia, that’s a fact. He is a son of a bitch; I miss every day. The fact that I had to exist in such a week as the one that took him from me. A standard 40-hour work week? Ha! If that were the case, I’d have one more reason to… careful there, right? Dangerous words. But for the record, I haven’t tried to harm myself well since January 11, 2022. And that was an accident. What do you get when you have Tifa Lockhart’s mature dress? And a hard-on for Zoe Colletti. Confessions with Inspector Echo but Lady Sophia. The Day Job schedule makes me want to cry. Then I remember B III crying that Wednesday, and I was so driven to hate then.

That’s why I still read the words; no, I write the words; Braxton Is Dead. They didn’t write that on the bill, of course. THEY have their words, and I have mine fair enough. Reading? There are so many things I don’t want to read. Thanks to YouTube, I’ve quit reading the words “Skip Ad.” That’s because I don’t want to watch anymore. What pray tell are my fingers going to do now? Well, besides becoming fists at the Day Job. I continue to white-knuckle the mattress. And I’m not one for praying anymore. Last time… a week like this.

Son of a bitch was dying, and it was all my fault because I wouldn’t listen. Now I’m done with a second book where I tried to listen. And what am I going to do with it, I ask you? Son of a bitch can’t do anything right. I shouldn’t mention my Ma like that, but I told one of the girls what I think about while I’m wasting my life. “Yo Mama?” More like “Yo Son,” if anyone dared to disrespect B III. “Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.” This son of a bitch wishes I could say Shakespeare was on the brain. But between Maiko Kaneda, Tifa Lockhart, and Cherry… I’m just thinking about blowjobs. Son Of A B-Word

551 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 034 ~B Willing To Bark~

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B’s has gone silent again. I don’t blame him. Novel writing is hard work, and I should have been more vocal. Hell! I should be louder at the Day Job and go all Michael Jackson. “Leave me alone. Stop it. Just stop doggin’ me around.” B Willing To Bark

Thursday, August 4, 2022

Saga 034 ~B Willing To Bark~

550 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If I could hear your answer. I wish my day was over and done with.

At the moment, it’s like old times. You know I don’t get up like this. Unless the day is going to go bad. It was a day like this when I held you in my arms and tried to rock you to sleep. A bad choice of words… but you know what I mean. This was an effed-up week. Do you miss me grumbling, griping, and growling like this? I could save it for the afternoons. As I said, I wish I was already there. If anything, I wish I was more like you. At the Day Job the other day, I was thinking. At least when my kid barked, he was helping me out. I would take your voice over everything every day, Braxton.

There’s this quote I always use in regards to you. “All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he isn’t the word of God, then God never spoke.” It remains true, Braxton. If God is love, then I could think of no better way to say it than Braxton. I’m still listening, trying. But with all the noise in the world, Baby B, I swear. When it wasn’t the silence of your death. It’s my shame I have when I walk into the Day Job. At least I’m not saying “Another Day.” It was that indifference towards my existence that ended you. Braxton, all the rage I endure that’s been bubbling up. I can’t tell you why that is. I’m your Dad.

Yes, we’re men. But there are many different, difficult, and dangerous little things to bark. Now, one of those is that I want to go back to bed. As if I’ve left it this morning for anything more than to have this conversation. The worthless discussions, Day Job. Now, as I said, my anger. I can’t tell you why but people Braxton have been driving me up the wall. Aren’t I one of them? Like that Wednesday, I came back and passed out. Blackout? I’m going to bring up that book yet again. It’s one I would share with you to a certain extent. You might sigh, scratch, or only sit there. But you were willing to live B, I know. B Willing To Bark

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 033 ~The B In Blackout~

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I shouldn’t have said that idiot, insane. Um, then stop thinking about me. My kid? But he’s gone because of me. That crime beats all others. The women I’ve offended. The things I’ve done to myself. Three words black it all out, yep. The B In Blackout

Wednesday, August 3, 2022

Saga 033 ~The B In Blackout~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And with that much money, while I’m doing nothing. I assume I could stay awake, Inspector.

But no, I’m at the Day Job. When I have to take out my “Air Pods,” my mind begins to flitter on everything. Then like that, I’m in a dark place. Let’s say it’s a version of the sunken place. I’m watching existence but in the past. Yet I believe I can see the future. Before I give way to despair, though, three little words wake me up. Braxton Is Dead. It always comes back to that Inspector. My Son Is Dead. No matter what “Humiliations Galore,” whatever will be endured. I say those three words, and everything becomes bearable. Yesterday it became more evident as I suffered. If you want my theory… it’s that time of the month, the year. My original sin returns.

You know Inspector because I don’t. It was only around 2017 when I started talking to Lady Lu again. It was about the Basic Bitch. And let us not forget Sweetness or The Harmonic War. Oh, too late! I hate reading my past work, Inspector; ok, Braxton Is Dead. His death was the worst day of my existence. It even surpasses horrific Emergence Day. Emergence Day… Fuck! That is coming up soon, ha! Echo, fuck me! Endure And Survive. And then, yet again, I have a note on August 6, 2017, saying such and such is not your friend. I want to hide from all these memories. Inspector, I try. I would have been better off dying on the floor. But no, my dear Braxton…

My son wouldn’t let me die when I blacked out on the floor, Inspector. He saved me, my little boy. The only other times I blacked out was when I drank some. I’m a lightweight. There’s also Blackout: A Thriller by Erin Flanagan. I swear that book’s living rent-free in my head. Inspector, you know I’ve been free of fapping going on 13 days… Surviving this AM? XXX blocks out everything and the blackness that comes from such a feeling. By God! Echo, why didn’t I for 161 days? Why do I resist now? It’s day 549 of my son being gone. Braxton Is Dead, and I deserve to feel every bit of Hell this day will be. Start in gratitude. I don’t think I will. The B In Blackout.

549 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 032 ~Going To B Lit~

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Treachery is the coldest sin. When Hell freezes over? But these days, I’m getting all hot and bothered. Burning my new novel or rather some data. I’m all sort of pissed at this week. Women are hot as Hell, like my wife someday… “Going To B Lit.”

Tuesday, August 2, 2022

Saga 032 ~Going To B Lit~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that’s because life is no picnic. It’s not some big party. Nor some Pentecostal event.

“THEY,” say you can’t count on anyone to make you happy. It comes from within on whatever. It’s because of Braxton that I wanted to try. I’m going to keep saying it. I wouldn’t know what it was like to have that desire if it wasn’t for him. Love, Happiness? He showed me all this time that it was coming from the “wrong” place. Hell! Lola Bunny was the best of both worlds, but we’ll get to that. My boy, my Braxton, carrying the fire. He was my light, the reason, my ride or die, and my raison d’etre. There’s this movie “Captive State,” and one of the taglines is “Light a fuse… spark a war.” Live, laugh, love? I’ll agree with love Baby Doll.

When I compare you to my firstborn son… that’s no insult. Like the song goes, “I come from the dark side, so I’m having a hard time stayin’ on track.” “Like B, you’re my light. Yes, I know I should get off my phone. Or at least I should be “Takin’ Care Of Business” somehow. Instead, I sound like the Backstreet Boys. “You are my fire. The one desire” and such. Allow me to sound shallow for a minute. A lot more ore hopefully… If I’m not thinking about the warm cuddles of my puppy, then it’s your hot body. The things that get me out of bed in the morning. The warm smiles of our children. But 548 days, I’m not doing so hot.

As a matter of fact, it’s as if I want to burn it all down. My existence, that is. Inevitable? You ask? Is that why I’m driving you away in my grief and mourning? Not enough tears in the world to drown out what I’ve done. If to save a life is to save the world, what does it mean to take a life? I’m sure Triple B won’t like hearing that “truth.” Crimes are fireproof. The way I’m burning up with XXX tendencies because I don’t deserve to feel pleasure. Even after writing the novel. Oh! I’ll let it burn data and not do a damn thing with it. My rage? “I wanna be livin’ For the love of you.” Going To B Lit

548 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 031 ~Value Having A Real Choice~

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If I had a choice, my son would be alive. I could go back to sleep. After having some P.Y.T., How is it the Christians say? This is the day the Lord has made; We will rejoice and be glad in it. No, No, I Don’t Think I Will. Value Having A Real Choice

Monday, August 1, 2022

Saga 031 ~Value Having A Real Choice~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-First Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m up at 3:00 AM, or is it 4:00? American Dream at 7:00. Where is Braxton?

I didn’t choose to love him. And yet I CHOSE to love him. Does that make any sense? It’s like the very first episode of Pokémon; “Pokémon, I Choose You!” How about Power Rangers Ninja Storm? They weren’t the chosen ones. But they were all that was left, so yep. Or, as a “great” man said in Destiny 2. “You’re a bunch of dirty misfits, but you’re all that’s left, so you’ll have to do.” And didn’t I say that I wanted to be more of a grownup, a man? All that matters is I love my boy. And I don’t have any choice in the matter. As the song goes, “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You.” So, where does choice originate? Awake and Alive…

Fuck I am? Pardon my language, but I have chosen to be mad. I can say that for now, ha. Madam, I could say I’m choosing violence, but that might not go over well, considering. Anyway, so why am I angry? As always, my son is dead. And that’s too much for a Dad, Madam. I’m upset because of what I have to do now. A reason I want to write. I’m not so mad. And finally, it’s what I have been talking about daily. “Do I have a drink, or do I not have a drink?” I swear those words continue to haunt me, and you know I ain’t talking a thing about drinking. Do I masturbate, or do I not masturbate? More acceptable?

The ideas of violence over anything sexual. But more to the point is that I have a “choice” over something in this existence. Today will be day 11 if I can last, Madam. The thirst? Again what about B III? 547 days since he’s been gone, and where are my choices when it comes to him? I can’t choose what I want to buy to “honor” him. As much as I wish it were otherwise, I won’t be the man he thinks I am. Yeah, I already began failing Six Impossible Things yesterday. Hell! Everything up to this moment is no choice of mine. My puppy, people, “pen and paper.” But my wayward penis fuck! Someday, somehow, someway, may I Value Having A Real Choice.

547 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 030 ~Lying With Another B~

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If I had my way, it would be back to lying on the couch with a good book and my boy. It’s like I don’t have the balls to live this life, to even exist, and then I look down. Oh, right… and then there’s the bucks, broads, my book? Lying With Another B

Sunday, July 31, 2022

Saga 030 ~Lying With Another B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now. Hoping I didn’t invest in Sesame Place. Nobody wants to be them. You want to be you…

If anything, you want to be a goddamn adult, a grownup, a fucking man. If you could stop thinking about fucking every second. Pardon your language. But what’s your crime? Every day but Sundays in particular, you remember. B III is gone. Losing him again. That’s another story you’ll get to in a bit. So far today, you haven’t been honoring him. If you are on the floor, it’s only been to cut off the alarm and go back to sleep. What have you been dreaming of? Again we’ll get to that. But this week… fuck. You already hate it. It’s going to be like the week you lost your boy. Hard work and hating the whole damn universe. You’ll change it… Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing, The Power of Pets: 7 Effective Tools To Heal From…
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Staying Ahead Of Camp NaNoWriMo
    Completed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 010 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

By some miracle, I pulled off three of these things. But to be specific, #4. Dammit, I haven’t been wearing pants except for the Day Job and Saturday. Yet somehow, I survived. It’s been touch and go. The only time I’ve touched my dick is during bathroom time. Hell! This morning as you continued to lounge around in bed. You fell back asleep. Your dream was like prostitution mixed with an episode of Glee. You keep hearing, “That’s the end of my hour, she’s bouncing/bobbing on that…” well, you know. Sang by all the characters as you woke up. Can’t even remember all of the girls flittering through your mind. All you know is the desire to go back to sleep before doing something STUPID or not… Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing, The Story of Us
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Finishing Braxton’s Book For Camp NaNoWriMo
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 010 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Because it goes without saying that you will be finishing the novel today. “The Will To B III.” Yesterday was probably the hardest. And that’s counting those days when you got off your ass and wrote 5000 words. Well, 4600 to go into the novel anyway. But B III’s eulogy? You’re showing more empathy than me. I don’t expect I’ll be hearing from Cherry anytime soon due to my lack of concern for her mum. Yet you want to cry today, oh Braxton, my Braxton. When B passed, I don’t think I had a dream about him right off. Go without a phone one day? That’s fixed. Literally don’t fuck myself and dream of sex always. Being a BOY, bucks, books, Little B. No, rather be Lying With Another B.

546 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 029 ~So To B Asleep~

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So the only thing that doesn’t need a rest today is the phone since I finally had the battery replaced. But I’ve been so tired I’ve been off of it unless I got a message, and it’s never what I was really hoping for. Yet I cannot rest. So To B Asleep.

Saturday, July 30, 2022

Saga 029 ~So To B Asleep~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what would be the first thing I buy? It’d be a soft place to rest.

So to be asleep is one thing. But to rest? Last night I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. Goodnight ha! Every night I still say, “Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams.” Why did I cut on the lamp halfway through the night if he is here? There’s something in the darkness. Or so I thought, as it wasn’t a nightmare. I swear the last thing that flittered in my head; was having black hellfire magic like Jacob. That’s because I wanted to smash the alarm. Succubus Lord dreams… we’ll get to that. I miss having Cerberus; well, B III sigh. I didn’t even reach for my 9MM. Hell! If it was my time to go, it was my time. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, right?

So to be asleep is one thing. But to relax? Again, first and foremost, that falls to B III, yep. But without him, you know what knocks me out? Well, after a while, since I sound more like Todd. Or I could be Jacob again. Recall my favorite scene in Succubus Lord. 10, I think. The one where Jacob has to “fill” all seven of his succubi? Lunalesca, I’m driving myself crazy. How many days has it been since I got off? Over a week if I can keep surviving. Only I want to fall asleep again because I know what would keep me awake. This morning it’s been all about Roxanne Perez. Next to talking to Cherry. And I didn’t even wake up then.

Roxanne Perez

So to be asleep is one thing. But to respond? Triple B never had a problem getting me to wake up. I was all fuck my life when I had him. At least I had a purpose. What is love? But to rescue? Who do I want to save… myself? I wrote a whole damn book. Lady Lunalesca, I will have to prove to myself by tomorrow that I don’t need a doc. Chronic fatigue? But to remember? Life? More like existence. Is there anything other than XXX? I’ve just been diagnosing myself with everything, haven’t I? Depression, Fatigue, OCD, Sex addiction, insanity. I wish I could sound like an adult. But sleep doesn’t fix everything. The ability to rest Lunalesca. So To B Asleep

545 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will