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,

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