Tag: Anger

Saga 059 ~Better The Devil You Know~

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Times Like These, I need my little angel or devil on my shoulder. As the other devils, I know… My God! More like my dog, my son. There’s Virgil, who knows what he’s seen before me. If the past two weeks were any indication? Better The Devil You Know.

Monday, August 29, 2022

Saga 059 ~Better The Devil You Know~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if I could look the Man in the Mirror in the eye, right?

I don’t know how many times I’m going to say this. But I rather see my little boy, B III. The angel on my shoulder… more like the little devil. If anything, he’s a better man than me, that’s for damn sure. My Braxton, my son. A child makes you more than a parent, J.

“Take away a man’s son, you’ve truly given him nothing left to lose.” ― Zombieland

With Virgil, I don’t know what that makes me right now. While I’m busy quoting Zombieland, what about this, Madam? Only my sister doesn’t know Virgil. I tried hiding him from my “father.” Master Yoda was right; all do or do not… Not saying everything.

“And then I look into my nephew’s eyes
Man, you wouldn’t believe
The most amazing things
That can come from
Some terrible lies” Some Nights

Hell! I’ve learned from so many, and as much as it pains me to say this. That includes my “father.” Man in the Mirror again.

It’s not like I’m completely in the dark about who I am. At the moment, I’m going to be all sorts of pissed at Hemingway for “LY.” Should I talk about all the writing gadgets and gizmos that think they know better than me? To be honest, J, I don’t trust me either. I don’t like me neither. Especially (fuck you, Hemingway) this now. A long ass day Madam. It’s Friday, August 26, 2022. And all day today, “I roared. And I rampaged.” Satisfaction? There is none to be had, but the devil remains on my shoulder. Well, my pocket. My phone is waiting for my “father’s” call. And then there’s Virgil at my feet. Angel, devil, nothing really. Another (fuck you, Hemingway!) Sigh, Fuck!

Yeah, that’s going to get old. I’m sick of old men telling me what to do, despite certain pornos with plaid skirts. And, of course, there’s my B III. An old man worth listening to. When I started talking to you yesterday, the 25th, I wasn’t as angry as this second, Madam Justice. I listened to an old black man. And now I’ll have to face someone way worse. “Father!” Speaking of which. Virgil should be mad that whatever devil put fear into his heart made him be here with me at my worst. I’m not his Daddy. Harsh but a fact, J. The devils I know. And now, broke, busted, butt on the curb or this chair. Sooner, later? Better The Devil You Know.

575 Days Without B III, Day 016 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 294 ~To B Square Again~

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B III and I were like two grumpy old men. We read together every day. We hated all sorts of people. When we were sleeping, the other was on guard duty except at night. And, of course, we forgot about living forever. “To B Square Again”

Thursday, April 21, 2022

Chronicle 294 ~To B Square Again~

445 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Considering how late I’m getting up this morning and what I did. The box…

Is that why I keep you there? I fear that you’ll see me. Hell, I know you do. Braxton, you, I take off both my chains when I’m about to do anything sketchy, sinful, or quoting the “Basic Bitch” skeevy. I wish I could say it was worth it. Inevitable that it’s stupid, suspect, square. But it’s “Hip To Be Square,” hmm? I look at things that I’ve forgotten this week B III. There’s a ton. I’m not a Christian because I didn’t think anything about Easter, B. Death by chocolate. Nothing you had to worry about? And I didn’t get high either. Daddy… Devil’s Lettuce? You know that “Mary Jane?” I’ve been listening to the Succubus Lord series too often. Then again, so have you.

That is if you’re here. And that, in a way, is what I’m afraid of. Not in you’re going to kill me sort of way, B. Then again, I’m still thinking about your first anniversary of passing, to be honest. I blame myself for that and for my illness. But if I died Braxton, whatever. You know I’m “trying” to always continue our routines. 8:00 on the dot, I refilled your water bowl, called you for “medicine time,” and fixed a white caramel cappuccino. I also have a tall glass of cranberry juice, the old man I am. It’s growing on me for the Placebo Effect alone. Of course, I’m not getting any better. It’s like when I had my awakening “religious phase.” Oh, wait…

You weren’t here for that. I did read the book of “John,” though. Didn’t I say that I can’t resist a book challenge? For God so loved the world and all that. Fuck the world. I wouldn’t trade you B III for anything. I’d give anything to be your old man, B III. To be the man that wanted to set a good example and tried to keep it in my pants, sigh. Back when I could take all the “Humiliations Galore” at work because Triple B, you’re here. When I would work on my writing because “I Believe” in it. We’d have a better life B III. Lying in bed isn’t square enough? Better off joining you? Such dangerous words. To B Square Again

Gospel 294 ~B Guile The Neighbors~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 287 ~Reasons To B Angry~

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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.

Gospel 287 ~B The Clock Challenge~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 021 ~The Letter B Moves~

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What’s doing more blinking, the cursor on the page or my eyes. B’s who I miss the most right now, but that’s not what my book is saying. I can’t fail B this month as I did in January, but that requires me to get up and move. The Letter B Moves

Thursday, July 22, 2021

Chronicle 021 ~The Letter B Moves~

172 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Should I even try to tell you about mine? No, I haven’t even lived it.

Today is Tuesday, and I’m trying to stay ahead. Do you remember when you were sick? You don’t want to, right but let me get this out. If I could do it again, B III, I’d pick you up and rush you to Banfield Hospital right this second. Could they have saved you B III? Yeah, because I was much too busy. It’s been the theme of this week. There is so much to do, and when I have time, what do I do. Today I had to talk to two of the girls and get to writing your novel. We’ll get to that, but I believe you know what the answer is Triple B.
You’re not sitting under the table or in my lap.

All the time in the world B, and money, Ha. How many times did you hear me talking about writing? Now instead of books, I want to go right back to bed. It’s a miracle that I even got to the table today. Of course, by the time you read this, I’ll be right back there. Yes, the Day Job remains horrible, which is one of the reasons I am writing to you today. It’s like anyone asking me there, “How are you?” I should say “Pissed” and then “Wait.” It’s only a matter of moments before THEY do something to fulfill such a prophecy. “Daddy, what about me?” I hear you, Braxton; I do, but like the novel, I’m writing. Nothing moves anymore, son.

If it hadn’t been 172 Days, I would think you left only yesterday. I was telling Dear Future Wife, the mom you’ll never get to know, that the tears I continue to shed are cleansing. Um, it’s like I’m in ice, nothing can get to me between, bed, boobs, and you B III it’s cold. Braxton sometimes, I melt, and I go everywhere. It’s as if I overflow, but then there’s not enough of me to fill up any glass. The bed’s not going anywhere, and neither are you. I miss being a monk; that’s how you always were, my Pancake. I haven’t eaten anything. I have to keep the cursor moving; I don’t want to fall even further behind. Trying, The Letter B Moves.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 309 ~Catching Our Tales Braxton~

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Braxton was never one to go chasing his TAIL as he was always so busy following me. Like The Road, “Sometimes I TELL the boy old stories of courage and justice,” it was never many of those. “Catching Our Tales Braxton…” maybe the world will know

Thursday, May 6, 2021

Gospel 309 ~Catching Our Tales Braxton~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Like last week when we spoke around this time, there was no story to tell.

If I do get fired, did, Hell Braxton, do you have any superpowers, supernatural? Have you become all-seeing, which explains why your Daddy is still a monk and a lazy ass? I have been talking to “everyone” today. I don’t know what the next day will bring for me ever. Now it won’t be the story of your resurrection, will it? As Tupac put it, “bury me in pieces cause they fear reincarnation.” My Old Man of all people said that your spirit could be calling out from another furbaby somewhere. I guess A Dog’s Purpose was plenty for me. You’ve seen what I’ve been reading nowadays. I would ask if you ever listened to me before to please avert your eyes and ears B.

You hated my phone as it took my attention away from you. Daddy always had a song for you, so let me sing. “Son, what you don’t understand, my words might never explain. So I am hoping that time will.” When I took a shower, though… Daddy’s stuff and thangs. However, when I wasn’t looking those things up, I’ve been researching what took you away. Oh, I still blame myself, no doubt, and I don’t blame you for wanting to get to the bottom of it. I read in Succubus Lord how the Shades relive their deaths over and over. Not saying you went to Hell, of course, unless Cerberus needed friendship or you’re saving me a spot by the fire. The two of us…

Didn’t I tell you I killed off your character writing for Camp NaNoWriMo? I swear if I write another book for the next one, it will be about us, I promise. Maybe I will include these letters with some poetry, and I’ve gotten into photography books. What do you think? Braxton, I haven’t been telling the happy stories about us these days because I explained to someone. Without your love, the void has been filled with hate, I’m afraid. Rage, I have no problem letting out, but if I had shown more love to you and less wrath to others, I wish? What I wouldn’t give to have you lying on my ass again as I come up with these gems of wisdom Little B.

I’m trying, and one day, hopefully Catching Our Tales Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 302 ~What’s The B Ending~

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I had no idea how bad Wednesday was going to be. The last one that was so… heinous, B III cried, but all I could do was pick him up, wrap him under my arm, and nap. It didn’t end there; the week only got worse but for a moment. “What’s The B Ending?”

Thursday, April 29, 2021

Gospel 302 ~What’s The B Ending~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I don’t really want to talk about my day, and I haven’t even lived it.

I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that Wednesday when I was feeling this way. Time-Travel, Monsieur B. If I had done more of it on January, 27 perhaps I wouldn’t be here April 29 without you. At present, though, it’s April 24, and you know why I’m speaking. As I tell you every AM, I miss you, B III. I still love you like pancakes, but B, I must confess. Shouldn’t I have done that Wednesday? God, I hate Wednesday and Sunday. Not the days’ fault but mine. So my secret… when I say I miss you, I can hear MILF Dos’s voice. If it’s any consolation, you would have liked her yabbos. Now I know you appreciated Indiana Gone’s, without a doubt.

I was thinking about getting her a picture of you or us. Braxton, she misses you, but that would be weird. Always and forever B, so as long as I’m alive, you will be too until we’re together again. I should try cutting off Youtube once in a while, but um, “He Lives In You.” It’s what I tell myself every day, B, and look at me crying again. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop, but I need something to round out the Anger, especially this week. It’s almost like the one I had when you…. Again I’m not even living this week as I write you B Squared. Tell me something, do I deserve to have this pain end? I finished Camp NaNoWriMo…

Hell, if I had published a book already like Cherry? I saw her this morning, do me a favor, B, and see if you can find a cat named Millie. Talk about “stalking,” remembering some English vixen’s cat on the Rainbow Bridge. I’m still a monk and your Daddy. Braxton, was that even funny? So many things ended when you left, and those that began? I want to stay in the same place, you know, but life has its ways. How dare I say that. You wanted to live and now… was I going to say I want to die? I don’t want to move, I know that. The way our story ended like something out of NieR: Automata. Always, Forever, What’s The B Ending?

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

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There’s no alarm for “mourning.” There’s no routine for it; otherwise, I would listen to He’s My Son by Mark Schultz 24/7. “What A Heavenly Way To Die” that would be. Instead, I take a second step in the five stages of grief. “Sounds Like B Leaving.”

Thursday, April 22, 2021

Gospel 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I don’t want to make you mad, although your Dad is all sorts of pissed.

I know. It sounds like I could be doing better. Today it sounds like I’m going to talk about the good, the bad, and the ugly. Braxton, you were the soundtrack of my life. I need you to know that. Do you remember the day I said, “Braxton get in the car,” and you hopped? The first day you chose me, not my sister, not the grandparents, only me. In their new house, you barked at them in the AM defending the gate for me. The best welcome I got from you was the day your granddad was here. You jumped into my arms, whining. Braxton, the most beautiful sound was nightly. When I would say, “Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams.” You’d paw the bed, settle and sleep beside me.

I hated fighting with you. There were times you would growl at me or snap. I’d be all, “you’re in trouble, the longer you hide.” You and I would both listen for one of my alarms to go off so I could call you a “good puppy” again. Your nails were pacing the floor all alone. I would call you about your meds, but it was hard for you to get down the stairs. I would carry you for so many days, but once you were outside for a walk, you were young again. You couldn’t hop in the car anymore, and I couldn’t blame you; with my final act. No, it started the day you cried… I ignored you.

I swear I thought you were going to be okay. Wednesday, you cried. By Thursday, you were back. I didn’t need the doctor to utter the words that Sunday evening. “He’s Gone.” The worst sound in the world was as I held you there and I heard your final breath. Braxton, I sat there on the stairs that day and cried like I never have before. It was the fucking silence that was killing me. How dare I? I killed you, so my going to Hell is what I deserve. For 72 days, I lived in Denial, I continue, but then the fucking ASM, ANGER. That bastard took my “peace.” Down from Denial to Anger, Up from Treachery to Anger. Always Sounds Like B Leaving.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 241 ~Braxton’s All The Rage~

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I deserve Hell. Only I would never wish it upon anyone else. Yet none of the Nine Circles call Sadness a sin. So people would prefer me to be angry. I don’t hate the vet that showed mercy. “Braxton’s All The Rage,” but since I can’t hold him anymore…

Saturday, February 27, 2021

Gospel 241 ~Braxton’s All The Rage~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now because they seem to be mad at everybody. Only I continue to say I’m in Denial.

When I’m not, it’s fear. Now how can that be true? M Anime and I were talking about people and hypocrisy. I swear the things I miss about Little B. I say I’m not afraid because I have nothing else to lose. Arrest me, torture me, kill me. In the end, my Braxton is dead.
To be blunt, like my “father.” I imagine the worst thing, and then I need only say my son’s name. Do I find strength? No, but rather, understanding, and I carry on. “He needs me,” I would often say. Come the night, how about being outside anytime? I’m still afraid. Denial, though, I don’t want to lose it; I can’t lose Braxton. But people seem dedicated to bringing on Anger.

It’s not like my tears will put out the inferno. Braxton’s fire. Geez, how macabre am I? Amongst everything that is left of my B III is his “Certificate of Cremation.” Yeah, I’ll frame it as I bear witness to the paperwork of loss. Not blaming Banfield, Petsmart, Pet Angel…

Lady Lu, I’m trying my damndest to escape Hell, and at the same time, I’m already there. I would say I have COVID or something as I’m hot and at the same time freezing. I didn’t realize how cold this house could be. I was sitting here holding my chest a while ago. Please die. Only I continue to live, but how can I be expected to mourn when wanting to sing “I Hate Everyone.”

Let’s start with me, for what I have done. Yes, not one sin compares to Braxton’s loss. I did it. I “hate” my “father” for treating Triple B’s passing like it should be nothing. Part of me knows why. I was angry the day I saw people with puppies as I looked at B’s ashes. Can I be pissed at Amazon for allowing me to indulge in pain in two different ways? I buy stuff for Braxton and read about suffering. Youtube is killing me with my playlist, while Spotify does nothing. Most of all, these days it’s the Day Job. At my last shift, well… It’s a Mad Season and without Braxton to help. I love him; Indiana Gone did. Braxton’s All The Rage

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 048 ~Will Needs His Space~

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I get pretty tongue-tied when I talk to women, and then I go ahead and write something like this… It’s a reason I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid, and people call me a headcase. Will Needs His Space.

Tuesday, August 18, 2020

Gospel 048 ~Will Needs His Space~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how can I be mad? Well, I know quite a few Republicans that hate so much more. Only I don’t want to speak about hate because I love you. Talk about Doublethink, I tell you all the time you take my breath away. Sometimes it’s like I’ll overflow with everything about you. Today though, it was like being in love with the stars, how high can I go. It was like loving a grave. Make no mistake, I would die for you. I was reminded of that poem Suicide’s Note.

“The calm,
Cool face of the river
Asked me for a kiss.” –

Langston Hughes

You’re not “Equipped” to be loved this much. Well, you did marry me, after all. Now you know I come out of nowhere with my music, but today I want to share my favorite song with you, one anyway. It’s called Moondust (Stripped; EP Version) by Jamyes Young. He sings about burying his love, and for some reason, this stands out to me. It’s not only because of my novel. I named “The Business,” “The Moondust.” I’ve been thinking about how many friends I’ve lost and how I’m always afraid that someday you’ll leave. One wrong word, and it’ll be like something out of the movie “Pontypool.” You say I’m a hard man to know, and I want to be so close but not today. Hell all the movies, music, my manuscript, to tell you the truth. Okay then, I’m mad as Hell, My Love.

That’s what I’m burying, this rage that I feel at so many that I know it would send you running. As the song goes, I bury my love to give the world to you. I won’t have you rob me of my hate, but I can’t give it to you.

I bury my tears everywhere else but not where you can see them. A man ain’t supposed to cry; yeah, another song. I need to lie down, though, and I don’t know if you or my firstborn could help me.


I bury myself in my work… no, not like that. Let me work harder or, as people say, all work and no play. I need some awesome video game carnage, and does that make me sound like a kid again.

Now that’s what I won’t do? I would do anything for love, but I won’t do that. I keep burying the man I am, and for what? I love you.

Only Will Needs His Space.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 045 ~Big Willie Style, NOT~

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No, I’m not getting jiggy with it, but how I wish. It’s ten at night already, and I haven’t been getting to bed until after two in the morning, and I know why. One of these days, the answer will be zombies, and I’ll be living. “Big Willie Style, NOT”

Saturday, August 15, 2020

Gospel 045 ~Big Willie Style, NOT~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and Will Smith isn’t? Now how would I accomplish this, seeing as how I couldn’t climb out of bed today? I know I say that a lot Lady Luna but I did go and get a couple of Honey Chicken Biscuits this morning. Yeah, making up for last week. Are they good enough but not my writing? I ask you? Is everything better than anything I can do? So what’s with the depression and the questions? One head has been busier than the other since Monday.

I have these phases when I get heavy into NO FAP, and now I know why. Excuse my language Lady Lu, this is more for Inspector Echo, but I am FUCKING Mad. Tuesday morning, I was at the Day Job listening to sad songs that turned into rap. I’m an African-American man, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about rap, but most of what I chose was angry. Now, if that’s not enough to scare “white” people, I’ve also been reading. No, not, The Manual: What Women Want and How to Give It to Them. Yesterday it put me to sleep. Instead, I’ve been looking over The Screwfly Solution. Let me guess, now I sound like one of those women-hating Incels, right? Hell Lady Lu, I’m not mad at anyone but me. This brings me back to the point; I’m only punishing myself again.

Instead of working like Will Smith, I’m doing me, which means sleeping. I won’t finish our conversation until later on tonight. No disrespect to people who have other addictions, but it’s like rehab. There’s nothing inside and what’s outside isn’t right. Speaking of outside, this is still the plague era. Porn is like a vaccine, you’re infected, and at the same time, you’re fighting the onslaught. If you knew how many times I’ve searched for Tifa Lockhart in the past few minutes. When I’m outside though, SIGH. THEY say the problem is men don’t look at women as people. Nowadays, I look at them as monsters. People have always been zombies to me, now I’m only running faster. Why can’t you just be normal? People cry over and over again.

When has anyone saw me as such and what they do see me as well, they “Make Me Wanna Die.”

They’re disappointed, Will Smith, W. Anton; Big Willie Style, NOT.

I Will Have No Fear