Category: Madam Justice

Chronicle 032 ~Sweat, Blood, Learn To Swim~

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There’s always talk of sweat, blood, and tears to get anywhere in life. Who knew by this time I would have more than enough tears. And “his” blood that rests on my hands. As far as sweat… I could use more but the Day Job? Sweat, Blood, Learn To Swim.

Monday, August 2, 2021

Chronicle 032 ~Sweat, Blood, Learn To Swim~

Hundred And Ninety-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which can buy a lot of towels. Hell, dry off in cash. I never learned to swim.

That’s because I rather stay in bed. As Eric Thomas would say, you’re given twenty-four hours, and what did you do with it? Cried about B, of course, on what’s now Day 183. Grumbled, Groaned, and Growled about today… (it’s still Sunday.) Isn’t Time Travel great? I’m not upset about grieving. That’s not going away anytime soon. And the only thing making me hot, because I’m not going outside… Yeah, by the time this is up, my blood will be boiling. Should I also add how disgusted I am with myself? I think I might vomit. Bathing is a good idea. But with all the “dicking” around, I have to do. I should stop using that word. Yeah, Madam. Go back to being a monk.

Return to some form of “atonement” as Braxton’s blood still rests on my hands. The definition of insanity. I continue to cry, but tears won’t do anything. Braxton’s still dead. The ink I spilled throughout his book “My Turn to B III” did nothing. Not that I expected it to. You must admit that there was some sweat there. I put in the work, exhausted, except that I always am. I’ve even turned to chocolate like I’m some girl. Yeah, that might have been sexist. Anyway, I was at the store the other day but not singing in the rain. Madam, I was only making more excuses. If anything, they are the one thing that is keeping me afloat. Braxton was my life preserver, Madam.

Too soon, brave captain to lose him. You know how I would tell Braxton that line from “Battle For The Planet of the Apes.” One day you will be as tall as a king. Yes, from my ankles to the couch. To the bed, in my heart on my shoulder, in my head, damn Rainbow Bridge. I’m the one that can’t stand tall anymore. I’m the one who once again falls into the bed as I did when I failed Braxton. I’m the one who bends the knee to a Day Job I abhor; who’s treated like slime and muck. Let me stop with the “I’m the one.” That’s Tony Baker Comedy. Talk about someone coming up swimming. Not me. Sweat, Blood, Learn To Swim.

183 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 025 ~A Thousand Choices Is Lonely~

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B III didn’t tell me what to do. He simply gave me a whole new set of options. Kinda like Detroit: Become Human. Without him here, you would think I would be freer but do I really want that. A Thousand Choices Is Lonely.

Monday, July 26, 2021

Chronicle 025 ~A Thousand Choices Is Lonely~

Hundred And Ninety-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if I would shut up and finish the damn book. We’ll get there.

So why are we talking at noon on Friday and not on Monday? Better yet, why not Friday morning at around 7:00 AM. I made a choice Madam to sleep and dick around, no doubt. Pardon my French; I’m annoyed at myself. I would be at B III if he tried to wake me up to go out. Yes, I made a choice, and that led to his death. And me, hungry, tired, angry, etc. I don’t want to leave these soft sheets because, as I told B III often enough. Make good decisions. I’d like to start working at the dining room table. “I’m Gonna Be Somebody,” I’d sing. Of course, that’s bullshit, right? Well, Braxton isn’t around to hear me use such language.

Yeah, my choice, isn’t it? My choice was to starve because if Braxton was here, he’d need water. Or I would have already gone out and picked up food if B’s bowl was empty. Being Dad. I was talking to Lady Sophia; yep, it’s Friday. Only I’m not looking to be anyone’s hubby, lover, or even Mr. Right Now at the moment. To be fair, love wasn’t a choice for me. Telling what happened this AM, was a choice, and it was the wrong one. If M Anime is right about her resistance to the vaccine, I’m going to Hell. But I already knew that. Madam, I have so many choices, but each and every time, I make the wrong one without question. Well, one.

Why? Because these choices are all about me and not about anyone else. Love makes you do the craziest thing of all. It makes you stop thinking about yourself. I’ve never liked that saying about you can’t love somebody else until you love yourself. Yes, that’s a big lie, ok. You can have a thousand choices. Although in The Cure by Sonia Levitin, there were far fewer. So I still don’t love myself. I keep saying I can’t love another fur baby like Braxton. Soon my body will give out and make me go downstairs. Before that, leave it to the Internet. And, of course, why I’m talking today? Once more choosing my Day Job over writing Braxton’s novel (sigh). A Thousand Choices Is Lonely

176 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 018 ~Nakedness Doesn’t Need Any Pockets~

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I was different when the rules came out. I can’t even tell you the year. Take a look at me now or don’t. The truth ain’t all it’s cracked up to be or cracked too much… It ain’t pretty, so I keep a mask in my pocket. Nakedness Doesn’t Need Any Pockets

Monday, July 19, 2021

Chronicle 018 ~Nakedness Doesn’t Need Any Pockets~

Hundred And Ninety-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Well, if I was, I would need much bigger pockets and pants.

As you can guess, Madam, when this rule came into being, my mind was elsewhere entirely. Not that for 169 Days, I would still be mourning my lost boy. My Braxton, who was not one for clothes. He would have taken a few fingers, a whole hand, for trying. Though he loved his collar. And as Shakespeare put it, with both wind and wrack, he died with the harness on his back. He met the end with my arms wrapped around him, in his own bed, surrounded by pure love. Love Madam Justice, is not anything found in pockets. Dare I say my Olds taught me that. Putting up money, so I can live, exist, be ok right now. For the love of money

Indeed, I “love” money but considering “Stuff And Thangs.” Yet another try, not netting me any money. I’m not ashamed of my nakedness. Oh, we could have a massive talk about me but two things. One is the idea of Time Travel, and two is the rule itself, how to explain. Violence Madam takes plenty of things and places to hold those things. Love or, more in my case, lust doesn’t take anything. It’s how I try explaining to M Anime the primal need of the species. I’m not a Trumptard, but hate is more than one’s skin color, dear Madam. You tell white people they deserve more. Then black people deserve less. And like a child asks. Why? Because you’re another color than them.

My Ma called Braxton and me brothers when clearly he had nothing, while I was given everything. He was my boy, my best friend, my brother, this is the truth. He had nothing to hide and nowhere to hide it. If anything, he only hid, and that was his lies. Monday will be a day full of lies, as it is Sunday now. I can’t tell you how sick I am of lying, Madam. It’s one reason I stick with Stuff And Thangs because I don’t have to hide. Well, my face and how did Quasimodo put it, “No face as hideous as my face.” What about my mind, heart, and soul? Nakedness is a truth away from secrets and lies we all sometimes keep, Madam. Nakedness Doesn’t Need Any Pockets.

169 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 011 ~Know Real Or Not Real~

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You love me, Real or Not Real? Now I never had to ask B that question, but sometimes he gave me a look. With everything after his passing, I don’t know what to believe anymore. It’s like I’m constantly dreaming while I’m awake. Know Real Or Not Real.

Monday, July 12, 2021

Chronicle 011 ~Know Real Or Not Real~

Hundred And Ninety-Sixtieth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which of course, is not real. Now do I want to be?

Real, always and forever, like my little Braxton. Of course, I say that now about the money because I’m highly motivated and you know why Madam. Come next Sunday, I see one more FAILURE. Oh yeah, and once again, I’m time-traveling, meaning, yes, I wasted another weekend not working on Braxton’s book. If I hadn’t wasted so many days, would I be Richard Branson? That kind of money, muscle, and mindset should be Not Real. Yes, I should have said unreal, but you know where this rule comes from, Madam. Hunger Games, Mockingjay, Katniss, Peeta. As the song goes, “This is no ordinary love.” Did I know what love was before him? Hell, my Ma is going to kill me if you ever ask her.

I’m sitting here, pretending to do something, telling myself, I’ll work on Braxton’s novel after. Do you know why I hate liars so much? I look in the mirror; I see the damage lies do. If you want the truth, I’m hungry. As I told Carolina Bound, my arm is okay, but no sudden movements. I got two books from Amazon, one for both heads. I’m always so tired now. If I want Not Real, all I need do is look at my list of Six Impossible Things. That pretending was seeing how much I don’t have to write, counting up Braxton’s letters. It’s playing around with the chicks on Onlyfans. Of course, my own Stuff And Thangs ain’t nothing to talk about for sure.

Telling the difference between what you feel and what’s real is getting harder to do. I don’t know all of what The Capitol did to Peeta in Mockingjay, but I’m more room 1408, so I think. What I need is some of that Room 101 motivation. Would that make Braxton Big Brother; everything for him? Or what about “Wanted,” shooting the wings off of a fly. I wanted to say something else, but people would take me for suicidal instead of. What, depressed, discontent, disgusting? I have to focus on something, anything else. Braxton Is Real. It could be the fact that I ducked when I heard “gunshots” just now. I’m alive, I’m real, Madam Justice, and you? Is it a question of Real or Not, more or less? I have rules for a reason. Know Real Or Not Real

162 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 004 ~Crushes And Stalkers, Fiction, Nonfiction~

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I don’t remember when I wrote this rule. But, I was in a group reading of alpha males, with flawless women on the covers. Or shirtless dudes. In their world, specific actions and words well… “Crushes And Stalkers, Fiction, Nonfiction.”

Monday, July 5, 2021

Chronicle 004 ~Crushes And Stalkers, Fiction, Nonfiction~

Hundred And Ninety-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford to lie in bed all day, now to turn off everything… right?

This is the perfect rule for today, as I’m starting a new year of Will’s Writings, Witticisms, & Wisdom. As THEY say, a “tale as old as time,” song as old as rhyme. I started all this because of a girl I’d rather not talk about, but when have fingers cared? From Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels, and now here we have a new Chronicle. I’m still talking about females. But it’s been Braxton for the most part for the past One Hundred and Fifty-Five days. Don’t worry, Madam Justice, we’ll get to him. Only we must go back. There was Lesson 001 ~Look Who Grossed Up~. I thought I had a Crush; she thought I was a Stalker. No, she said SKEEVY, at first, yeah.

Even then, Braxton was here, and I thought of myself as a Daddy. No, I was only a BOY WITH A BLOG (and a dog). To be fair, I would kill to be that SKEEVY BOY WITH A BLOG again, if only for B’s sake. Five years I’ve been here, “Oh I’ve Wasted My Life.” Madam, to think wronging the Basic Bitch and I believe around ten different women was bad. My crime now is simple, and again you’ve heard me go on and on about this. I killed Braxton. I killed my son, my best friend. All with the hatred for this godforsaken universe. Now that B III’s gone, my holy trinity, it sure is. And I’m his prophet. Am I writing his Bible?

For once, I’m hoping with Time Travel and all, today is June 30, 2021; I’m writing the truth. Now that gets me back to today’s “perfect” rule. You see, life is not some porno, erotica, or even a bit of softcore. The things I do, acceptable with money, manhood, might. No face as hideous as my face as the song goes. In fiction, I’m good, but for real, I’m skeevy. No one on Earth can tell me this. B III wasn’t my son, my firstborn, yet THEY will keep telling me he was only a dog. I wasn’t a parent; B III was not my family for fifteen-plus years, Madam. Words have power. They make us “Real or Not Real.” Crushes And Stalkers, Fiction, Nonfiction.

155 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 362 ~Though Routine, War Never Changes~

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Whenever I left, I’d tell my son, “I love you, B, I love you, Braxton.” Then I’d face the world and return full of Fear, Anger, and Hate. He made sure I wouldn’t suffer alone. I didn’t notice his routine changing. “Though Routine, War Never Changes.”

Monday, June 28, 2021

Gospel 362 ~Though Routine, War Never Changes~

Hundred And Ninety-Fourth Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should be screaming at someone, screwing someone over. And still sleeping like a baby.

The routine of what I call my life… When B died, routine is what kept me running or instead shambling. To this day, 148, to be exact, I continue to do everything in my Denial. What I can’t seem to figure out; when it comes to the Day Job, is which is worse, Madam? It’s not “Another Day,” I can’t show that indifference anymore. But it was Anger that led to me ignoring my son. No answer is good for me, and why the fuck should I care what the Day Job thinks? Pardon my French, but here I am on this Sunday; Time-Travel, SIGH. The mere thought of the Day Job. “It makes my blood boil. Turns my eyes to flames,” like the song.

I don’t think I ever spoke about what happened with the signs at the Day Job. Once again, why do I give a damn? I screwed the company over, or routine; every moment is my failure. It’s me being STUPID. Next to Braxton’s loss, stupidity is the worst feeling in the world. The third would be that night remembering the Basic Bitch. Fourth, failing to know success. I said this morning that I screwed myself over this weekend. Not doing a thing to help myself. M Anime and I talked, and she’s expecting a war, and I swear I want peace. So why is it I like to fight, to be filled with rage like one of those Infected in “Patient Zero.” Remember the peace

Braxton and I, sitting on the couch. I would read, and he would sleep, perfectly content. I would wake up in bed. And he’d be sitting on the foot, watching the door. The walks we shared together when it was only us. Brothers, warriors he and I but grateful moments. It was always my promise to give him anything, everything, but that’s not the purpose of war. “War can’t give life. It can only take it away.” It feeds on itself, Madam Justice. Yet we continue, and why? It becomes our routine. For only a little while fifteen years, Madam. At least I had an ally, and I wonder why my rage overflows these days. I am The Walking Dead. Though Routine, War Never Changes.

148 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Gospel 355 ~Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die~

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I don’t want to Accept, Acclimate, or Adapt to B’s passing. I broke one vow, but the one I spoke on January 31st, “everything stays the same,” remains unbroken. I look around, and he’s still here but to survive. “Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die”

Monday, June 21, 2021

Gospel 355 ~Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die~

Hundred And Ninety-Third Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I suppose it will take getting used to. Sonless, sinless, salvation

Sonless… my first Father’s Day without Braxton in fifteen years. Well, seeing as how I’m writing this on Wednesday. Speaking of time, I never planned on Braxton, and yet I want to be a Dad to another furbaby and others someday. Only, I’m learning Adaptation. Another word for my hate list is Normal or New Normal. Neither term is ideal, but at least with Normal, I had B III. Again, one of today’s words is Adaptation because with Evolution? It seems so far away. Even though it’s been 141 Days Madame. Existence moves ever forward. Is that my way of saying “Life, Uh, Finds a Way” or “Existence Locates a Path?” Is it the man or the road? In a way, I think it’s both.

“There’s a saying – the pessimist looks down and hits his head. The optimist looks up and loses his footing. The realist looks forward and adjusts his path accordingly.” TWD

“Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?”
― Garth Nix, Sabriel

Sinlessness is, of course, impossible. As the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus,” or at least I want to avoid a “political” discussion at the moment. I understand Jesus, though, because if I could take all of Braxton’s bad upon myself, I would. Only B III died. Madame, I let him go, and what did I receive? Braxton’s out there somewhere happy. These days I get to explore who I am, and every time I look in the mirror, I hate myself. Ok, now I’ve said J, I got cash, ha. Oh, “but in the end, it doesn’t even matter,” Linkin Park. I drift farther and farther away from the Daddy that Braxton honestly knew to become… I don’t know or care.

Salvation is beyond my reach because while I can’t adapt to life without Braxton, “I Don’t Wanna Die.” Isn’t this what they mean by a “Mad World.” Will I stop with all the music references? I broke my vow last week but with this one, who knows. There’s clarity now. Like Super Mario knowing that his quest will never end as there’s always another journey. So he adapts from being a plumber to whatever he needs to be. Yet didn’t he forget his brother eventually, his princess, and even the real world for a time? He wants to survive despite everything and anything. I want to say I’m not sure, but of course, I’m still here, isn’t that right, Madame? Unless I’m lucky, Time Travel. Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QpvHkBNGrlI

141 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 348 ~A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret~

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Conan became a King. He sat upon his throne with a troubled brow. Before, his life was full of high adventure. Only now, I feel like when he was pushing that wheel, bored thinking about life. A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret, I was bored of B?

Monday, June 14, 2021

Gospel 348 ~A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret~

Hundred And Ninety-Second Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and already I’m thinking I’m okay with it. I’ll make more tomorrow…

When I get up at 6:30 in the morning, instead of 4:00, the day is already ruined. When I have to get up for the Day Job, I’ll still be hating that week I wasted doing nothing at all. As always, Madam J, this is not Depression but instead shame. This is not okay ever. I should at least be saving money because what was it I said yesterday about spending $150 on Maitland Ward’s Yabbos. Um, that’s $140 now as I spent $10 on “Rachel McGuire’s.” Oh, all I’ve got thus far, can I say I’m so thankful with any one of them, hmm? Hell, would me getting that tattoo for Braxton be something that will make me feel better, Madam? I don’t know.

Also, yesterday I talked about Dakota Skye’s passing but did I look up some of her work? As the song goes, I won’t go getting “Tired Of You.” The fact that I’m still talking about this proves it. Yet I didn’t do any searching other than for a good picture. I do that for B. However, Madam, these past few weeks have been all about the things I do because B III isn’t around. I wrote of renewed vows and ended up breaking it in the same day, and for what? Do I regret going all out for “Stuff And Thangs?” In a way, yes, but I’m not bored yet… I’ve been living on background noise, but something woke me. Make Way For The King

Only it was the young prince who died first. Braxton would expect more from me than sitting here wondering why I’m not dead yet. If I am only going to sit around waiting for the end. I should at least get the vaccine. Definitely want to prolong what’s become Hell. I was never lonely or, let’s say, overcome with ennui when I was with B III. I’ll never get over being here reading a good book and him by my side. I wasn’t bored with life Madam Justice, I was angry at it, but I said Another Day to keep down the boiling blood. I couldn’t, and I became indifferent to the one that loved me the most, Braxton. And the moment that happened, Madam… A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret

134 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 341 ~The Walking Dead, Living Sit~

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Now I wish I could say the zombies came before… it doesn’t matter, but it looks like I have to start again. It’s a new world, but in July I’ll be writing about the old one. My loss, my learning, and living without B III. The Walking Dead, Living Sit.

Monday, June 7, 2021

Gospel 341 ~The Walking Dead, Living Sit~

Hundred And Ninety-First Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now and isn’t this how I always imagined it would be. First and always, a father; a writer?

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves as it comes to Rule 191. I should also choose my words with care, considering the goings-on in the world today. I’m sure I’ve talked about this with several of the girls and B. No, not his death again, but that railyard incident, damn. You know how I feel about my Day Job. Every day I talk about it’s like dying there, and Braxton indeed was. If I hadn’t been a zombie for four days, B III might be alive. Instead, five days passed, and you saw his peaceful end. It’s like Army of the Dead, and I’m Vanderohe. Even if I get out, Madam Justice, what will I become? Who will I be? And no, I’m not suicidal.

I may sit at my laptop and bleed, but that’s how I know I’m still alive. How many times, let’s see, 127 days have I mentioned my lost boy. That pain isn’t going anywhere, and you could give me more if it brought Braxton back home. Better Bargaining than Depression. Anyway, as I said, this is how I plan to make my billions by writing? First million, because I have a dream, I have a plan. Yet the know-how dear Madam J. If I’m alive, there is always time to learn something new. Maybe I wish I could go back to all those classes. Say what? You know how I hate the word “STUPID,” going back to school… oh my Madam, ahem, really FUCKING STUPID!!!

Less STUPID is my “Stuff And Thangs.” Seeing as how I’m a time traveler presently. I do wonder, am I a monk now? Nope! I’m trying, and I know I don’t want to give up yet. What is it that my motivations would always say? If it were easy, then everyone would do it, right? I talk about walking or standing and about sitting but lying down, I swear. As always, this is Inspector Echo’s racket, but here’s a confession. I almost broke this afternoon being Monday, May 31, 2021. The night before, I was all sorts of discombobulated, honestly. Nothing is permanent, Eric Thomas says. My vow, my rules, the boy that I thought would live forever, my Braxton. The Walking Dead, Living Sit

127 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 334 ~Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven~

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I remind myself it’s not just another day. “I wish I could say something classy and inspirational” for Memorial Day, but I know it’s Day 120. The defender of my kingdom, a “Real One,” is dead. “Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven,” what’s better than a dog?

Monday, May 31, 2021

Gospel 334 ~Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven~

Hundred And Ninetieth Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but THEY say that money is the root of all evil. I don’t believe that, Madam Justice.

I love my son, and with that, as Sade sings “No Ordinary Love,” I would carry out evil. Indiana Gone and I would “joke” about our children, but really any parent of a fur baby would say the same. Anyone would fight, steal, and kill to keep them safe, Madam. Interestingly, I would call this place Hell, which it is now because I didn’t know how good I had it. I’m sure I’ve talked about how cold it is. So cut off the air conditioner, duh. I can’t imagine what it would be like to feel right again. Little B beside me once more. Madam, to have such love? To give such love? I would instead have my grief and nothing more. Am I afraid?

Haven’t I said over and over that not much frightens me anymore? Well other than falling into Depression (Fourth Stage of Grief). I’m sure I’ve mentioned Dante’s Inferno, and each stage is like one of the Nine Circles. For Dante, it was Treachery, mine, Acceptance. So give me all the 404 errors or dubious musings; yesterday, the horror, the horror. Madam, the whole world could know about my “Stuff and Thangs,” I lie here unashamed. Worst of all is a broken what, “vow?” If I were getting paid, I would have done so, and yet? I haven’t, Madam Justice, but you must understand I’ve never gone so long like this. The man I see on the screen knows such bliss but knew even greater. Braxton

Once you’ve been a Dad, a brother, a best friend, a hero, how do you ever go back to a man? I won’t ever regret a single day I spent with my son, even the last one. It’s been 120 days for those keeping score at home. How could I ever think that meeting that little ball of fluff was a mistake? Madam, such a thing was evolution but now why do men fear death? It’s like the prisoner who has been institutionalized and now fears for life without walls. How about when Rogue took Captain Marvel’s powers, and she is back to Carol Danvers. Braxton is a blessing and the Devil I knew, my Daemon. Nothing greater for me

Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven

120 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will