Chronicle 351 ~B On The Clock~

Sleep, nature’s call, back to bed, yabbos, a few more minutes gaming, music, YouTube, nap, and then hearing a noise. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I wasted four hours from 4:00 to 8:00. B wouldn’t have ever allowed it. “B On The Clock.”

Friday, June 17, 2022

Chronicle 351 ~B On The Clock~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so am I still waking up at 4:00 AM? How about 3:00? Well, B ain’t here.

Is that why “Every Day Is Exactly The Same,” Sophia. The fact that I feel like an “Every Day Normal Guy 2?” It’s strange wanting to stick to a routine and, at the same time. You know, a phrase like (another day) pisses me off. I’ll never forget such indifference. It’s how B died, after all. The fact that B was always there. And I took that for granted. But I could look to him at the foot of the bed, and it would be a new beginning Sophia. Braxton would begin running all over my face to go walking by seeing the light outside. And when he left, time seemed to stop, but here I am and what now 502 days. And the time…

I wish I could remember a time I wasn’t hurting. Hell! All our conversations are based on a time I was hurt. What four years ago? And what have I learned since then, Sophia? Nada. But we’ll get into that in a bit. Me and my fucking fetish for brunettes. All Yabbos in truth. But if you had seen me earlier. Here’s a hint “American Beauty.” Then again, um, UK. The only way time doesn’t seem so HARD is when I’m sleeping, and you know what I want to say. I wish I could sleep… and I won’t finish that idea. Dangerous Words; written down. Speaking of which, shouldn’t I be working on my novel? Well, B III’s novel, really. Maybe he understands my reluctance.

I hate myself, Lady Sophia. When I miss filling his water bowl. Or calling him down for his medicine sometimes. And here I thought I was lifting him up. “It’s Not Putting Me Down It’s Lifting Me Up,” as the book goes. I didn’t trust Braxton was looking down on me this morning. Sophia, that’s why I was in the drawer this morning reaching for, as the kids say, the gat, heat, strap, whatever. Vey wrong choice of words but, as always, Republican tendencies. Guns! Morning officially started after checking the doors. I heard a noise. Triple B waking me? And I wonder where he is now if he’s already reincarnated and is waiting, Sophia. Inevitably with my luck, it will take god knows how long. B On The Clock

502 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

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