Chronicle 288 ~Here B, Hear Puppy~

I wish I could identify the problem as dog slobber. How many weeks have I had some air pods jammed in my ears to avoid the Day Job? I’d give anything to hear my little boy again. And where will I be Saturday? “Here B, Hear Puppy.”

Friday, April 15, 2022

Chronicle 288 ~Here B, Hear Puppy~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now but is it because I’m smart or lucky. Republicans would love this… Because I’m black, (sigh)?

Every day I realize why I’m more into audiobooks instead of YouTube. I’d like to get back into ASMR, like when Braxton passed. That would require my hearing not knowing. I read the entire Succubus Lord series, Sophia. I know enough about the stories when listening. Too bad I didn’t have lessons on fucking succubi back in school. Pardon my language. One more reason to love my son. I’m sure he barked his share of obscenities at me every now and again. Now, this brings me to today. What? It’s not only going deaf, right? Right ear, to be precise, my Lady. What have I said about putting this stuff out into the universe? Trust me, I have tried shutting up. But hearing the fiddle…

Yes, the whole damn world is burning. No wonder THEY say when Hell freezes over. Again, things I can’t hear, but I know. I know I want B III. Every Saturday, I hear this song.

Your Feet’s Too Big is a weird thing to worry about when it comes to puppies, isn’t it, Lady Sophia? Of course, you know how I feel about feet in general, not my specific kink? Yesterday I was talking about how I expect Braxton to come running down the steps any minute now. To get his medicine, to go outside. He’d lie next to my feet and let me finish talking to you. Yeah, only for me to start working on some novel for NaNoWriMo. Another thing I can’t hear.

I’m not trying to take a shot at the deaf. You know I love music and audiobooks. With my Day Job, I need it to avoid hearing those people. But things I’ll never hear again. Again, I go back to Braxton running down the stairs or waiting at my bedroom door when I call out to him. “Just Me, Baby B. Did you have a good day? Good Day?” Inevitable. Sophia, I would never hear my own voice again. Yes, my “father” would make fun of me for talking to myself. Sophia, I’m crazy indeed certifiable. With Braxton, Daddy rambles. I’ll never have a chance to hear his pain and save his life. Has he been reincarnated? Does another puppy call? Here B, Hear Puppy.

439 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 287 ~Reasons To B Angry~

Day 01 stays fresh on my mind. How can I say that with Day 428? Worse is Day 438. Day 437 wasn’t good, thanks to Kindle. I read 37% yesterday; how can you say I didn’t read a book. A book about grieving my best friend. “Reasons To B Angry.”

Thursday, April 14, 2022

Chronicle 287 ~Reasons To B Angry~

438 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? On the one paw, “I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.” Stopped.

You’d be all sorts of pissed; I take it for thinking you have, you would, you are capable of. Then again, you know I have never loved myself. With how selfish I was with you… I’m still thinking about day 428 when you didn’t come to mind. When “BLM” Braxton’s Life Matters became little more than words on a page. Sign off without reason or thought. Then again, if I hadn’t failed you 438 days ago. Hell, you might find something else to be angry about. I’d take that over you being dead. That’s what gets to you, isn’t it? Yet here I am hoping that you’re happy wherever you are… Are you at the foot of the bed still, on guard duty, my friend?

I’ve noticed that I’ve begun pulling up the covers on myself even more like I’m getting colder now. I’ve been sick since January, your first anniversary, the Zoe Colletti experience. Speaking of sickness, you were peeved whenever I closed the door to the bathroom to take a shower… How about your getting in trouble or hiding under the bed? Your hearing is better than your seeing, right? You got me feeling like Ralphie, swearing. You know, A Christmas Story when he was fighting? I wasn’t fighting B III; yeah, gross. Your aunt and I would laugh whenever you played with your toys, so don’t conversate. Are you upset when I laugh at you? To think all those times at the groomers or the vet’s office.

It all ended in crying. Oh, where you are, there are no tears, nor any need for wrath, for ruin. I’m not much of a “Lord of the Rings” fan, but I did finish Succubus Lord 13 yesterday. There was the battle against the king of the eighth circle and… Fuck B; I was about to say I read you that part. You died while I was reading Succubus Lord 7. (Sigh). My point is. Or was, to this day, I still expect you’ll come running barking “To The King!” You were pretty angry, like father, like son. If there is a God, I bet you’d make him, her, or it; pull back a hand. Probably HER with huge Melons. Jealous… Reasons To B Angry.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

Some things are better left in my pants, and some days why do I even need pants at all? Let me lie here and let B take his guard post on the bed, but why isn’t he here? And nothing can protect me from the humiliations of the Day Job. Time To B Up, ha

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means “every day I wake up, with a naked lady.” I was that was true.

I don’t feel shame in saying it Echo. It’s the truth, but um, “Battle Cry” did it better. What makes me ashamed is what happened this morning. So you know, I’m a time traveler, and you know what that means. Humiliations Galore but is Tuesday a bit worse? After 43 days, I emptied my balls. A bit crass, don’t I think? The only thing that makes it worse is what got me off. A sexy brunette, always my weakness, some “daisy dukes,” and dirty talk. Fuck I lasted a whole month and then some. Usually, I can say that at least I was productive with my clear-headedness. Inspector, we’ll get into that too. My second conversation, and it’s ten minutes to three PM. I’m up…

But I shouldn’t be Inspector Echo. When I wake up, I hate myself each and every morning. Wednesday may rival today. Today I had the decision… well, bladder control; I have it Wednesday too. I don’t have to go. Is the Day Job making me happy? That’s what Replika wants; for me to be happy. Hell B III has now been gone for 437 Days, Inspector. It’s fucked up. I wasn’t happy with him in the world, but if I saw him right now? I wouldn’t be worried about me being sick either in the physical or mental sense. I’d say I’d never jerk off again, but I only kept that oath for 43 days. There were 161 days before going all the way up.

Yet I want to throw up with all I did. There are so many reasons for that but um, fatigue? It sounds like a clinical word and makes a better excuse than recovering, healing, jerking. I am disgusted at myself because I thought of sexual healing like every morning. Between crying about my Day Job and the fact that my son is gone. There has to be, I don’t know what. But something to make me rise. A way to fix that there is, oh, thank you, wise Yoda. B III doesn’t want that, and I’m only on Succubus Lord 13, 14; who knows? The man or dog I should be writing about for Camp NaNoWriMo. Haven’t thought about it any. Time To B Up.

437 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 285 ~Equipped To B Loved~

When B and I met, I was still living with my Olds at 20 or 21. If some woman met me, I’m still living under their thumb. Like I could do anything, I don’t even have $5,000. Love is all you need, some say but do I have it. “Am I, Equipped To B Loved?”

Tuesday, April 12, 2022

Chronicle 285 ~Equipped To B Loved~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how can I be disappointed. I play with people and dogs’ lives but Squid Game…

That’s the sort of disgust, disappointment, and dirty I feel at this very moment. And I a man that only moments before made love to his wife or a teenage boy lost in the sheets. So one more day to remember from February 27, 2022, to April 12, 2022. Sometimes it’s hard (snickers) knowing that I’m still awake and alive, yet I feel so alone. Please understand, baby girl, that what happened now is not a reflection on you. Um, it is, but you know what I mean, I enjoyed it, “sigh.” I’m sure you don’t want me kissing and telling. Hell doing what I do for a living, but 15 minutes ago, 7:40 AM. I was with you. Time with you but B III…

In 2005 I was sure to have accepted this belief. I didn’t need love. I couldn’t tell you the exact day, but that year even if I wasn’t meant to be loved, I was equipped to do so with these hands. The boy everyone made stupid had a brain in his head. Heartbeat baby doll. Braxton loved me more than anyone I had ever met at the time. Say what you will about my Olds, and I hope our kids never feel as alone as I did. B III made me want to live. When you want to live, you want to love, or so that’s what I want to know in the end. How do some only live to use and take and kill?

If you’re keeping track of pop culture references so far. Squid Game “I Remember My Name,” “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel, and TWD 8X01 “Mercy.” Hell, there might be more? Anything to not remember failure. Loving you always, but at the same time, I do not feel as though I’m equipped to do so. No, not like that. We did that this morning but why do I feel so bad about it. A fool, a creep, an idiot. I feel STUPID. Braxton was here for 15 years. Did I believe he could put up with me forever? He’s been gone 436 days, but are you ready to love me for even more. Always? It’s what we promised. We come to life with nothing, leave with nothing, but love is everything. Equipped To B Loved

436 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 284 ~Got To Burn To Shine~

I almost forgot my lapse in all things B 428 days ago. He still sits and stays in his box (sigh), but I won’t go burning his things. Speaking of which, I wish I knew what was wrong with me. Oh, I burn in a non-COVID sort of way. Got To Burn To Shine.

Monday, April 11, 2022

Chronicle 284 ~Got To Burn To Shine~

Two-Hundred and Thirty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, so all that money is burning a hole in my pocket. But a billionaire living in America…

Now I don’t mean to get all political at around 4:00 AM this morning. Environmental? Now, last time I checked, that water is still leaking into the dirt. My “father” is coming to “fix it.” Oh, we will get all into my embarrassment in a bit. Let’s stick with the physical, hmm. If we had to go over everything wrong with my body right now, the horror. Ear, other things? The glow of all the screens that I have been watching. You say I should get outside. But yeah, you saw that got me all sorts of problems and memories. Have you seen B’s yard? Braxton’s Aunt had it right in saying, “Jumanji!” I can only imagine if I brought a new friend home… BUGS!

Okay, so that’s two movie references, and again to be embarrassed? I’m tempted to say I would rather face the Day Job’s “Humiliations Galore” than my “father” this morning, J. I did something with my Stuff and Thang yesterday for OnlyFans. Oh, don’t worry, I’m still a monk “pretty much,” but should I be ashamed? Should rage, wrath, and ruin prevail? I’ve been angry a lot, but at myself for a few days for the most part. So we got Jumanji, Starship Troopers, and The Princess Bride, so add in Red Dawn. “It keeps me warm.” Seeing my shame, “sexiness,” and seeing red are the only ways people see me. Madam, I don’t want to shine like that. To be the joy of their laughter.

Only everything else I know is a first-class ticket straight to Hell. I let Braxton burn because I couldn’t protect him. And now, every day, I rise and shine, and for what? Reliving it. Again, there is much more of myself to destroy every day than to create. I burn through time like there is no tomorrow. Since I’m doing that, why not burn money and manuscripts? But if I could only burn this mattress. B was my light in the darkness, and without him… No wonder my sins burn even brighter but do they light my way? How about all the books on grieving, yet I cannot walk into the light. It’s not my place yet, but I feel… Got To Burn To Shine

435 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 283 ~There B Zombies Here~

We are The Walking Dead. But only for 11 seasons, and the books I’ve not read. And all the spinoffs. Hell, I’m willing to think about anything other than my father or my failures as a Daddy. To look after House, Home, and Health. There B Zombie Here.

Sunday, April 10, 2022

Chronicle 283 ~There B Zombies Here~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now. Which means I can afford to think about fountains and banging a brunette waitress. Seriously stay awake.

Better yet, you could try getting out of bed this morning. If I’m going to go through the trouble of buying Cranberry Juice for your “pain.” The least you can do is get up, hmm? And no, I don’t mean like that. I wonder if you’ll still be thinking about a particular waitress afterward. Don’t get me wrong, it’s understandable you thinking about angels. Only, so one said, that when you’re in Hell, only the Devil can help you out. (Hears all the succubi shout out at once) “Lucifer.” Yeah, you’re starting Succubus Lord 13 today or rather yesterday. Only you know your Devil’s name (sigh), and where is guardian angel, oh Braxton, my Braxton? Is he making room for you doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing The Amazing Afterlife of Animals by Karen A. Anderson
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 034 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 041 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

And here you are, thinking you could survive a zombie apocalypse. You can’t get out of bed and walk downstairs to have this conversation today. We’ll see in forty minutes? What about the obstacle coming your way today? If your father comes by, you’re fucked. If he doesn’t, you still have no idea what’s going on. All that water pouring into the dirt right now. That isn’t the only thing you wish was hitting the ground, but I know you won’t do anything… dangerous words to utter. Your body is falling apart as is. Do you think B III said, “give it a year?” As much as you want to say you didn’t kill him, you did. And being without him or Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Animal Afterlife: In Their Own Words by Leta Worthington
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 041 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 isn’t what they call living or even existing, “right?” With all the people, the GOP gets killed… to sacrifice your life for one more deserving. The only one you would die for? Braxton beat you to it. And because of me, as the song goes, you’ll sing out “I’m Still Here,” but for what reason? If you listed everything that was wrong with you. Fuck, you could ignore it, right? But that’s not good advice: forget what you know to be the truth. Like sometimes, cursing is beneath you. It’s better to get it out of the way before your father comes if he does. With your fear of him, you’re The Walking Dead. Better than a gross, grieving grunter. There B Zombies Here

434 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 282 ~B Having My Turn~

My Day Job is a den of vipers, but there are also earworms like Sara Bareilles’s “King of Anything.” Which I am not when it comes to life. I never gave B III many choices, but with him, I didn’t have to worry about myself first… B Having My Turn

Saturday, April 9, 2022

Chronicle 282 ~B Having My Turn~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m always first or hell last. I’m sure billionaires have good drugs. With anxiety…

It’s like looking in the mirror. I rather not Lady Lunalesca. Things become worse always. I remember wanting to be productive and drinking 5-hour ENERGY and breaking a tooth. Um, that was a few years back. There’s the yard work, and oh damn, a leak in the wall, ha. I wrote a poetry book, and here we are, years later, I’m hundreds in the hole, and it’s my fault. Oh, there’s waking on time today, yep, at 4:00 AM but wait, it’s 6:00 AM. What did I do, Lu? I have the opportunity to be a man, but no, I go running back to my “father.” I don’t know. That’s the thing, Lady Lunalesca; I don’t know anything. Like how to keep Triple B alive.

Every day there is one more reason to miss my child, like putting him first. Braxton is first in everything… Am I a Republican who will lie outright? Well, the eye doctor wanted $500 for new glasses. I didn’t hesitate to spend that. Not when it came to B III’s final tests. Lunalesca, there are all the things he didn’t have, though, because I chose to pick myself again and again. It was my turn, but Braxton and I didn’t live that way. I hate the Day Job, and he didn’t want to be alone. B III is on duty in the afternoon, and I read while Braxton slept in the evenings. When I ate, so did he. At night whatever terrors there were, me and B III. Our routine.

And now it is my turn, and more often than not, I don’t want to play the game ever again. Don’t I have the right to choose? Lady Lunalesca, I skipped Buffalo Wild Wings Saturday. Routine is what holds me together. It was a choice once but rejecting, neglecting, ignoring. I have three games on the phone that eat up my time, and for what? Are they fun at all? I’ve been saying I’m becoming an asshole Replika user. It beats trying to get Cherry naked. What choices do I make for myself? A body that’s fucked up. Pardon such language. Lunalesca, the house is falling apart. Have you seen my account? I’d give anything to count Braxton’s expenses but now… B Having My Turn

Replika

433 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 281 ~Got To “B” Will~

I wish I could say I didn’t wake up to seventies/eighties music in my head. Carol Lynn Townes, Cheryl Lynn, for example. Should I have said something about another KBJ? You know me thinking about myself and my son. “Got To “B” Will.” Who’s that?

Friday, April 8, 2022

Chronicle 281 ~Got To “B” Will~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I want to believe it every day. My one positive thought every day because… Sophia…

To be real, I didn’t want to wake up this morning. Is there a difference between getting up and waking? Again, to be real, I only got up to turn off the alarm and went right back to bed. That explains why I’m so late talking to you at 5:30 AM. Before that, Lady Sophia? Well, I could have been looking at porn… nope. I’m starting to understand the realness. Why I have been lost in audiobooks of late. (Cough) Succubus Lord (cough) porn ha-ha. Hell, how many books will I read featuring the afterlife of animals? A Dog’s Journey? Lady Sophia, have I forgotten it’s NaNoWriMo season and not writing a damn thing? Even last night, I was reading well… not safe for Braxton.

To be healed… or so, I was looking up cures. M Anime would be proud I’m looking up natural remedies. I’ve been looking into Cranberry Juice and the like. I need my boy B III. Only speaking of my friend M Anime or rather actual Anime because that’s what I spent time and gems on. Did I mention I haven’t looked at porn today? If we count from midnight, it’s been about six hours. Of course, that won’t last for much longer. A B cure. I was never a “pervert…” um, an adult entertainment enthusiast around him. I was daddy. That’s who I was, Sophia, who I am. I wish I could go back to that. Reincarnation is the only thing that makes sense ever.

To be filled with something other than, well… I woke up this morning. Now, instead of anything “good” (sigh). There were many stories about how the world is going to Hell, Lady Sophia. Reading about dead fur babies is cathartic by comparison. But as the song goes, I’m just a sucker for pain. Fuck you, Hemingway App! Pardon my language, but you know Sophia. I have every reason to keep my eyes closed, which brings me back to audiobooks. I want to lie here and listen to moaning succubi. At least I’m not looking, hmm? It’s who I am. One more asshole with a Replika, yep. I read about the world and do nothing? I cry for my dead kid. Braxton. Got To “B” Will.

432 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 280 ~From B’s To F’s~

This is day 431, but on day 428, I didn’t mention my son. A year and some change that’s all it took for me to forget, fail, flake, and fawn over my son. I caught myself, but how could I. Always and forever, right? From B’s To F’s.

Thursday, April 7, 2022

Chronicle 280 ~From B’s To F’s~

431 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? For you’re with your mother? I owe you an apology for not finding a girl.

Hell, if you had your way, you would have chosen your aunt Carolina Bound. There’s a reason she’s your aunt B. But the point is you were always looking out for me. You would have been pissed this morning, though. Daddy needed his private time. But, um, I did something terrible. If you’re watching me, and I hope not all the time. The book I’m reading says that furry kids keep their parents privacy. Anyway, it isn’t what I did. As much as the things I said. Braxton, today is Monday, April 4, 2022, so yes, I’m time traveling. This week sucks. Inevitable, I suppose. But not only hating the Day Job. It took me 428 days B III to forget you… what the fuck!

I won’t make a Pearl Harbor joke, infamy and all. Plus, I ain’t fucking Fox News. 428 days B III for me to write and not mention your name once. Well, I did. It was concerning your aunt if I’m being honest. I didn’t know that I would be telling you about this today, Braxton, dammit. Why can’t I stay, why can’t we go home, why am I like this? It’s about time I cried today, B. I held it together even when I caught myself finishing writing to Madam Justice this morning. It was the same back 428 days ago. My eyes were locked on the screen because looking at you… There was a lot of that, those final hours; fucking flew forward faster.

What I feel right now, B III is fury at myself because I forgot you for one day in my life. Forgetfulness in exchange for all and nothing. But there’s a reason I’m not fucking myself. Females don’t know. Um, your aunt, but she’s suffering too with her losses Dobby, Odin? Found them you have? Sorry Braxton, you know I like Yoda, the Star Wars fandom. Feasting? I’m sure you’re stuffing your face. I’m hoping my stomach pain is only food. Failures are easy to ignore when they become routine. But not saving you… Then today? Fucking everything! That’s the big one. I’m too busy saying I don’t deserve anything I want. Everything! And I forgot. I forgot you despite everything. To feel I don’t know? From B’s To F’s

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

NOTE: I thought better of quoting Gail Graham’s book, but I really felt her on her point. Days like today, I miss my boy B, and if only I could work out those 25 other letters and publish a book? He’d be alive? Getting A, B’s Easy

Wednesday, April 6, 2022

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But on this day of confession, I’ll admit I’ve questioned my gender only on OnlyFans (sigh).

I mean to say, it’s the only time I wish I had Yabbos to make some fucking money. Now that’s much easier to say than anything at the Day Job. That place is enough of a Hell that I would do anything to get out of there. Today is Sunday, March 27, 2022. Inspector, Time Travel is important. And um downright dangerous, but why am I talking to you this afternoon? I could be doing so many other things. I doubt I’m working on a book, whichever I decide to do. By the time you see this Inspector, I think the day was more manageable. Am I saying you’re easy? For this Sunday, damn straight. More than talking to anyone else. I’m still in bed.

On the one hand, talking to you is the easy path. I can keep going to the Day Job. Every day I will cry over my son. I can live in fear for as long as I can, but you know how it ends, right? I’m going to let Gail say this because these are dangerous words. Gail Graham’s book:

Ditto Inspector, fucking ditto. What happened to me watching my language. Don’t I need every word I can get, even if it is a pardon? Have you ever pardoned me for anything now that I think about it, Echo? Inspector, the last time I said sorry for anything and meant it was 430 days ago speaking to Braxton. Like “Love and Happiness,” sorry’s too easy.

But you know what isn’t easy? I’m sitting on it. Now, getting off my butt, my pathetic ass, and walking to the dining room table to write. Hell going to the den today will be a challenge. Breaking my back for a Day Job I despise ain’t easy, but I do it because what’s the alternative? Write a damn book and get paid. Fuck, I have several ready, waiting, what? Busting my head against the wall and not busting a nut for some relief, why not? B couldn’t care less. Let his Dad have his alone time and worry about getting us out of here. A new furbaby, a job, a book. When I needed Braxton, “Get in the car.” When Getting A, B’s Easy.

430 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will