Chronicle 207 ~Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic~

“Hades” couldn’t help who he was. Dante did what he did. Hell, they went after women. As for me? I would stay here with my son if he were still… But I’m no hero for my own saving, safety, or salvation. Wish it were true. Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic

Monday, January 24, 2022

Chronicle 207 ~Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but on the record, I’m not sure I’ll be speaking to you Monday. If I do… Time-Travel.

That’s what I was doing, Braxton’s final week, because I had no clue. And when I knew… Hell, doesn’t that negate my rule? I was too busy being a selfish prick. I didn’t save B. While I’m the subject of being a prick. If mine fell off, it would be what I deserved. I mentioned last week about sticking my dick in crazy. A sex toy, those clothes I ordered? At least it ain’t COVID. I swear, last Wednesday, I felt I got ran over by a truck. But I could breathe, and today, being Thursday on the twentieth. I can still taste strawberry gummies. All I kept thinking last night was this. B III I’ll be joining you soon. I wish I had Madam.

Now I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate the relief I’m feeling to a degree. I hate pain. Only that’s the thing, Madam Justice. I’ve been in pain for 358 Days by the time you see this. Yes, last night hurt like hell, but I think this one thing anytime I hurt. Braxton. Nothing tops that, and it was the only way I could sleep. Fuck, that is so insulting. The day I should have saved B, where was I? Sleeping away humiliations galore. I’m talking about saving myself, but B III was always my hero. And at the same time, I imagine this physical pain I’m experiencing is from him. A sign? Something to understand. Like my heartbreaking? No, I’m not mean.

Well, I could be as I keep thinking about that book. Last year on the thirty-first, I let Braxton go, and I thought that was that. Now I imagine my grief is keeping Braxton trapped. Talking to him today, I asked him to stay. Even if it means my misery, my suffering, but for him? Madam, it always goes back to his eyes. Braxton wanted to come home, I know. I couldn’t save him or me, and then I think of “Persephone.” For 15 years, B acted as my Cerberus. You know why I’m not the hero, saving the damsel in distress. What am I? Madam, I’m a “Monster.” To be saved, no, but join me my Cerberus and Persephone. Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic

358 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 200 ~The Heart Begs, Body Dictates~

A great man said, “Steel isn’t strong, boy. Flesh is stronger!” He also said, “Look at the strength in your body, the desire in your heart. I gave you this!” What I was capable of for my son. Now he’s dead, and I live. “The Heart Begs, Body Dictates”

Monday, January 17, 2022

Chronicle 200 ~The Heart Begs, Body Dictates~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means there is nothing I cannot buy. What about Braxton back?

Time? The time I wasted this afternoon. I’m Time Travelling. Guess what day it is? Wednesday Madam. I was telling one of the other girls, Lady Sophia, I believe. Anyway, B would have been thrilled by today’s events. The Day Job makes me glad… leaving. Madam, I am trying to imagine how he would be. How Braxton would jump everywhere. His heart Madam, whether it was joy at my return. His comfort. Braxton’s body was failing. That’s what I remember, him walking to his water bowl because he didn’t want me to freak out. Braxton always had to be strong, and when he wasn’t… I pretended not to notice. Let me carry him downstairs, or he would bump into things from time to time. He lived; I didn’t freak out.

Speaking of bumping and freaking, how did I spend this good Wednesday given to me? The heart wants the pendant I bought for Braxton. I want to build a damn shrine come the 31st. I should have it by now. I’ve been counting up the dollars. Oh, and not working. Head wise, my belly is asking why I am starving myself? No, this isn’t a cry for help. I got thirty bucks in my wallet. I’m not counting carbs; I’m counting rations and next payday. But my body, Hell, I would starve if I could get my hands on a few new tools for my Stuff and Thangs. Not like I got anything on camera today. I continue to fuck-up, coming to my what, abstinence?

All I’ve been reading has been about? How the heart is stronger than the brain. I suppose that’s true in certain instances. Of course, I thought it was love many times, but no, Madam. At the end of the day, all I wanted to do was fuck. Then Braxton came along. Knowing what love is. So there’s my heart. I know where my liver is… a few too many pills. Guts, do I have any? The heart, what has it done for me lately? Flesh is stronger, I’m afraid. Inevitable. Impossible not to give in. But for 161 Days? Sigh, body, heart, and mind as confusing as Gospel 200 Wills Lost And Found. Strange this body finds any peace. So The Heart Begs, Body Dictates.

351 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 193 ~Pain Makes Heroes And Villains~

I always saw myself as the villain. I’m no Trumptard, but I like power. That means I’m no democrat. Um, I don’t want to do politics. But I find it hard to do any morning without my son. My hero. Playing the villain for Pain Makes Heroes And Villains.

Monday, January 10, 2022

Chronicle 193 ~Pain Makes Heroes And Villains~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does that make me a hero or a villain. I know that making money hurts. Kills!

I could talk about my body wasting away, but of course, you know what I want to talk about. Braxton is dead. I wouldn’t know at the time “2021” Gospel 193 List It Up, Will. Madam, I was much too busy playing the hero. Like a fucking rich man with $600 in my pocket, and I spent $100 on B. As a poor man, I was still working to provide for us both. Every day I face the evils of this world because I AM a father. Present tense always. That’s what Jack and Kate say in their book Letters From Rainbow Bridge. Past tense? That’s dismissing Braxton from my life, and I need him now more than ever. Kept my lamp on last night.

That doesn’t make me sound like much of a villain, now does it. I don’t even know what woke me up, but I couldn’t get back to sleep for a bit. Where is my hero? Watching over me as always, but still, I needed the light. All I recall is the pain. Nightmares have pain? I’ll always think of how B III would get a blanket when I was ill. A cape and hoody, ha. If I would make all the world my bed, then he would stay here so I could keep him safe. The way he’d smile when I would pet him or rub his tummy. B III, look, the day is saved. The pain Madam, the greatest hurt comes from being alone.

No, that’s a lie. In one of the arguments, I have with myself… I need to stop talking to myself. That makes me sound crazy. At least when Braxton… again, I’m trying. Braxton is here but talking to myself seems to be a form of Acceptance. 344 days, I’ll never. Anyway, my “father” taught me that this is the most villainous act that can ever be done. The Destruction of a Soul. Yes, I’m a killer. All these books on Euthanasia sound like Greek to me. The good death. Taking someone’s body is horrible, their life even more so. But the concept of taking away someone’s will? My “father’s” a villain. My son’s a hero. But both brought pain. Me? Pain Makes Heroes And Villains

“Last night reading over the Dæmon’s vet care. I felt like such a horrible parent.”

“Now it’s “A Different Alchemy” Jeffery and his son Galen. One more thing to show your dad like failures, yep.”
193 List It Up, Will

344 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 186 ~Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens~

I heard that you ain’t no kind of man without land. I know “a man provides” for his family. I ain’t got much, but I offer what I have to artists, assholes, adult entertainers. Sometimes you have to cross the road. Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens.

Monday, January 3, 2022

Chronicle 186 ~Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-First Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I’m $11.00 richer than yesterday. I’m a different man from last year or not, you think?

For the record, it’s still December 31, 2021. Time-Travel Madam, more so now. I wonder, will I stop spending so much money on Yabbos, make my list? B would “say” the best legs, breasts, and thighs are found in a bucket of chicken. Church’s chicken? Something else for me to hype today besides a pornstar. No, I don’t mean that as an insult in any sense, J. Sex workers, starlets, the sensuality of women I’m quite the fan of. I don’t hedge, hem, and haw, hide that fact at all. So why do I feel I’ve been squished for now? Fuck I crossed the road today, and all I want to do is cross back, Madam. I wasn’t wrong; was I? Trust your first instinct.

That’s why THEY ask why the chicken crossed the road instead of saying the poor thing. Hell, Madam, I’m a poor thing (cough) $11.00 (cough). I’m not going back, dammit. Madam, I always do this, but okay here we go. You know Maitland Ward? Much like every other bit of adult entertainment, she made the budget. So like I was telling Lady Sophia, I’m hanging out on OnlyFans. She says Good Morning, so do I and she starts flirting. I ain’t got any money, so better to remain silent. That’s me being a squirrel, J. Anyway, she calls me out, asking how much longer I’ll last not supporting her. $11.00 a month… So I say I’m sorry and bye and unsubscribe. I crossed the road.

When you’re a coward, they call you a chicken. But they get to the other side, don’t they, despite everything, Madam? And God, I’ve been fried, well burned plenty, Madam. Squirrels, on the other hand, are only thinking about their nuts. Madam, I’m aware, chickens, roosters, whatever. What about Milana Vayntrub; could’ve been Squirrel Girl? B III, like his Daddy, is pretty obsessed with Yabbos, but at the end of the day… Are we eating? My boy’s courage at the end, and I’m upset about a girl? I decided and I should make more choices like it. The choices that put money in my pocket and don’t cater to me being disrespected. Man or a mouse, Squirrel or Chicken. Well, Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens.

337 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 179 ~Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her~

“Just look up.” Maybe I’ll go a classic “just look over your shoulders, honey.” Now “Willow” was a classic. The guy fell in love with the chick as quickly as I did being a father to my son. Love at first sight for a… girl. Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her

Monday, December 27, 2021

Chronicle 179 ~Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her~

Two-Hundred and Twentieth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. This means I must believe like Philippe Weis, Rotti Largo, and Peter Isherwell. All about the “Benjamins.”

Yet when I made this rule, I was in a much different place. Without Love? Of a woman, why yes, unless you count my Ma, Braxton’s Aunt, and M Anime. But the love I desire… That’s the thing, Madam. While there is a twinge, a beat, a breath, I don’t think about having A Groovy Kind of Love. Hell, I didn’t appreciate the love staring me in the face, J. I looked up can a dog be a soulmate. Well, I rose because of Braxton. And he was ready as soon as the sun shined. He was my light in the darkness, and our moods were the moon and the tides. Every wish made, all my prayers, and B seeing me now. Just Look Up.

Or “Don’t Look Up.” I saw it again last night. Like it, not looking to love it. It’s too true. No, let me look down at my wallet and all the money I’m losing. You know what else glows, J? GOLD!!! When you want wisdom as much as air, Gold as much as Vanilla Tits. For the record, in my last dream, it was all about Jill Marie Jones, AKA Toni Childs from “Girlfriends.” Anyway, I can’t keep my eyes or my hands off my dick. Must I be crude? You should read some of my novels, Madam. I’m surprised I haven’t burned my eyes out of my head from the glowing screen. Anything to not look up like some damn Republican. The world’s burning.

But a pretty girl can do as much damage as any comet. I can’t say I have a good history with that. I told Cherry once that men would die to see her. And you remember ole girl… something with a D? I was begging to see Capital A. Why Madam must I see, dammit? Braxton was right there, Madam. He still is and will be always and forever. As I’ve said, B started at my feet. Then he sat in my lap. Soon he was like another rib. Higher still to protect him with my heart. My shoulder, my head, now Heaven… Tell me where to find a girl with such love. Higher? B, My Boy, He’s My Son. Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her?

330 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 172 ~Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand~

As the song goes, “I choose me, and I know that’s selfish love.” Not today. The Day Job calls, I won’t be choosing me. I show “loyalty” to my Olds. Otherwise, I’m on the street. My country, oh God, Then there’s my son. “Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand.”

Monday, December 20, 2021

Chronicle 172 ~Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand~

Two-Hundred and Nineteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I’m loyal to the almighty dollar. Negan said, “people are a resource.” King Ezekiel had morals.

For right now, today, hell about 15 years and 323 days, my loyalty is always to Braxton. My longing, my love, my life to my child. How many times have I sobbed since 7:00 am? He’s the reason I’m not out helping the local economy. Did I say “local?” Supercuts is a corporation. Um, I need a haircut, but it’s all, Baby, It’s Cold Outside. Oh, it’s my tears, yup. I’m not sad over my country or frothing at the mouth. At this rate, I want to be all Mr. Clark and say this place deserves what it gets. All I need to do is stay black and die. That’s what I’m doing today. I took a shower, planned on getting out, then boom Christmas.

B’s Aunt didn’t mean it. Madam, it’s a standard question for this time of the year. What do you want for Christmas? I want what I’ve wanted for 323 Days. I want my son back. It’s not like anything would be better with the rest of my life, but I’d have him. B is enough. I believe Cherry was into magic a bit but not Necromancy. So short of my Braxton, there was one of those tripods with the ring light. A laptop desk? Thought I wanted out of bed? Everything I want is to keep me right here. Braxton’s Cuddle Clone, watching over me. Then again, I wouldn’t want him to see me do things I do in life. My “loyalty” lasted 161 Days.

My mourning, mutism, my monkhood. But Madam, when I say always and forever, I mean it. Let Special K or Capital A ask for my help. I’d be there for them. That’s me, all me. Haven’t I talked about this once? I use what I call The Blackjack Scale. 21 means I’d die for you; Braxton was/is the only 21. I can’t go asking his Aunt for bullets now. I’d freak her out. For real, I could use the ammunition with everything. America, America. Loyalty to myself, you ask? Hell Madam, my body demands. I’d say besides my Masochism in my grief. My Sadism. Sprinkle in Hedonism to boot. “No Gods or Kings, only Man” Bioshock. Now Braxton’s loyalty… unquestionable. Loyalty Is Choice, Not Demand.


323 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

Not to get all racial or woke, but I’m the black workhorse at my Day Job, um mule. My manager is black, but the CEO is a white lady. So when’s the last time I made a real choice? Only me? Braxton’s death? “Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing.”

Monday, December 13, 2021

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

Two-Hundred and Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I answer to no one. Well, shareholders, if I’m in business. But to be God…

I’m a BELIEVER… NOT. Only I know why men made God in their own image and not vice versa. A white man, giving brown people orders. The same guy, trying to save the Jewish people from themselves. And who takes credit for everything. America, America. Hell, thinking is hard work. This is why most people tend not to do it. A long time ago (a couple of weeks), I didn’t. I could pump my ears full of music or listen to people speak of imaginary worlds. Obeying my “superiors” was easy. Without this J? RAGE!!! Every day I become more and more of a Republican. Not in ideology but in practice. When you disagree… it feels like dying or killing.

Dangerous words, I know, Madam. Now Braxton was the best boss I ever had. “Then you’ll find your servant is your master,” as the song goes. I swear I became a savant of his doggie language. A soldier, faithful and loyal. A sling, carrying him around, my son B III. When he stopped breathing, I swear I stopped too. Who was in charge? It’s like that episode of The Twilight Zone circa 2002 “The Path.” Braxton could read me, and through him AHEM, “I believe I can see the future.” I did what was needed to keep us going, J. Now what’s left to me now is the breathing, and you know how I am about that most days. I don’t want to, I’m afraid to, it hurts a lot.

But I’m in charge. Stupid me beats out my manager, managing Olds, pairs of mammaries. We, of course, know that’s a lie because I’ll be going back to my Day Job at some point, Madam. If anything, I must obey my Olds, or I’m homeless a loser at thirty-seven, Madam. Mammaries, Yabbos, Tits, you ask me why I’m sitting here naked planning on working on my Stuff And Thangs today. Did I, honest to God, believe; I was going to be an OnlyFans star? Nope but that’s what I get for listening to one head instead of the other, Madam. Once I read everything is about sex, but sex is about power. Our ultimate obedience is to power, not life. Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing

316 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 158 ~Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won~

Pick up your cross peace is found at the lance’s point. Pens are mightier than swords. All I want is to carry my son. A season of peace, but I hate Christmas, like the dude in Succubus Christmas Special. I’ll behave, but Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won

Monday, December 6, 2021

Chronicle 158 ~Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won~

Two-Hundred and Seventeenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that counts as winning. You don’t get “better” than that, as far as I can see.

To be honest, today, I don’t feel like fighting anymore. One more reason I had Braxton. A son shouldn’t fight his father’s battles, but how often will I say this? I’m out for the count, and there he is, watching over me. Braxton’s protection. A toy dog? Toy Soldier. Madam, I’m not wise. So they say, um, grief is love with no place to go. Oh, ok, true enough. The same can be said with rage. My rage is justice that can never be served, but it stays, Madam. I feel like fucking Oceania. That might be a decent stripper name, but I don’t mean it like that. It’s more like George Orwell’s “1984.” The war inside myself is continuous, and I didn’t even start this shit. It’s not fair.

All’s fair in love and war, and I don’t want either. At least I don’t want to be alone, J. As the song goes, “before you start a war, you better know what you’re fighting for.” Again “don’t put your blame on me.” I’m sick of it, and yet I stay. There’s nothing else, Madam. So why not try winning? If anything, why not try fighting at all? Today’s example… Madam, when I was “young,” and of course you know this tale, but I was in the navy a bit. I thought I would find my manhood somehow with serving. Three weeks later… Sigh. Anyway, today, a coworker busted her lip after slipping on the floor. And me being a gentleman… Gotcha, I stayed put.

A good man would have helped her. A brave man wouldn’t have spent all day hiding as the womenfolk went rushing into the rain. After a decade of wasting his life, a real man would be running that place. Yes, I’m fighting a war, Madam, against grief, rage, and fear. Going all Yoda on your ass? Ass, I’ll behave, Madam, Nineteen Days, Cherry, Carolina Bound might be pissed. So here I am, my enemies are known, in a war I never asked for. And if you told me I could stop fighting? Thirty-seven years and at least I ain’t dead. 309 Days without my son, brother-in-arms, and tireless defender. To accept that I can win this without Braxton… UNACCEPTABLE. But Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won.

309 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 151 ~Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men~

Docs have diagnosed me with plenty over 37 years. Social Anxiety, Bipolar Depression, Astigmatism (eyes in my head). Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder sigh. The Day Job takes advantage and how I keep a specific collection. Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men

Monday, November 29, 2021

Chronicle 151 ~Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men~

Two-Hundred And Sixteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” But today, “It Is Finished.”

Can I be any more profane, offensive, or STUPID? That’s how I feel about today, J. Can’t I be positive for one whole minute? If I weren’t suffering from a massive case of blue balls at the moment but we’ll get to that. First things first, I’m not lying to NaNoWriMo. That’s right, Madam, for the fifth time, according to the good people at NaNoWriMo, I have completed my 50,000 words. This is the part of the story where I would pick Braxton up and dance. Of course, we’ll get to that too. Right now, my legs are twisted pretzel-like. So I finished “Behave In A Cherry Patch,” so as NaNoWriMo says, Now What? I want all the fucking badges. I can’t stand it, Madam.

Apologies for the language, but I was obsessed with writing my novel and every badge Madam. Come December 1st, I’ll never think about it again until Camp NaNoWriMo. I’ve finished three this year, two camps, and November without my boy. Um, today there was Cherry. Hell, even before her, there was Ariella Ferrera, Yuffie Kisaragi, to say the least. How many times have I wished I could be a regular guy that watches porn? No, I’m one for intimacy, meaning I need everything. Do I need to go over the list again of frightened women? Money though? Every CEO, billionaire, Mafia Don. Whatever money man gets the women in the novels I read. Or a beard and/or a motorcycle. I’m in on some particular Yabbos.

But at least for now, my grief is richer. My promise, my vow to B III. 11 Days right now. It’s been 302 Days without Braxton, though. I believe before, and then when he died, I went 161 Days. B give me strength that I don’t give in to temptation and since I’m done, Madam. Braxton is my obsession. But when he was alive, though, I became indifferent. Obsession leads to trouble, Madam. And it seems, for the most part, my obsession is my own pain. As another song goes, I’m just a sucker for pain. Yeah, fuck you, Hemingway, for dinging the word “just” and the name Grammarly. Oh, there’s the $139.00 you took, Grammarly dammit. Stories, Boobies, Doggies. Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men.

302 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 144 ~Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism~

If I had known the moment I called B and he hopped in the car that this is how it would end? Hell, I do shit all the time knowing that it could come crashing down. Yet my guilt at all that I’ve done hasn’t stopped me… Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism

Monday, November 22, 2021

Chronicle 144 ~Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism~

Two-Hundred And Fifteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I have learned anything from others. There’s no shame, guilt. No need for a conscience.

Mine died 295 Days ago. My soul, my serenity, my son. His Dark Materials put it best, my Dæmon. If I had any reason to stay in line, it was him and now? Well, why do you think I’m calling you so late. Every day I don’t leave this bed, um, every afternoon, I fail. I keep up with Braxton’s treats… what was it a day or so ago? I noticed I missed one. When I leave the house, I keep up the usual banter, and when I return. I’ve had tacos, two days. Hell, Madam, when I don’t bring fries back, I know that I’ve failed Braxton. Daily ritual. When I can’t keep it in my pants because I want to feel something “good.”

Fuck Aria Logan and Cherry, um yes, please if again you’re wondering where I’ve been. Satisfaction? Nope, guilt kept me from coming. It’s the guilt that keeps me from going. Back to bed, that is. Only again, I’m sitting right here knowing I won’t get a wink tonight. Not if I don’t tell you all these horrible things in my life. Losing Braxton, always first. There’s also my nighttime ritual of lying to NaNoWriMo about my progress in writing. What about the Day Job I hate? And yet feel like I failed them, and by God, I did once again. It’s the guilt. I am guilty. And if I told you all my secrets… “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man,” yep.

While I’m busy ripping off songs, “I’m only human after all. Don’t put your blame on me.” While I was reading this evening from “Only Gone From Your Sight.” Jack/Kate says, “stop identifying yourself as my victim.” When it comes to B III, I never have. What do I see? The killer in the mirror, staring back at me. B III is the worst thing I ever got away with. Take your pick with the things that could cost me everything. He’s the one life, the crime everybody goes “meh.” Braxton’s body wasn’t even cold. Father “Get a new dog.” Fucking asshole, and I feel guilty saying that. I say guilt controls and yet my crimes. Braxton is still dead. Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism

I believe in consequences.

No, you believe in guilt.

Maybe. But guilt before we act is called morality.
“Liberal Arts“

295 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will