Tag: B III

Chronicle 147 ~Forgetting A’s Yeah B~

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This was my son’s “Christmas.” Sure he would get a large fry for himself on birthdays. His aunt baked him a cake. He’d get half my fries when I stopped for fast food. Today though, he’d get to see Grandma and, of course, turkey. Forgetting A’s Yeah B

Thursday, November 25, 2021

Chronicle 147 ~Forgetting A’s Yeah B~

298 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If “Only Gone From Your Sight” is to be believed, nothing I do tops wherever…

Only I ask that you allow me to try. Now we never did the holidays though you stuffed your face full of fries on many birthdays. There was also the time your Aunt Carolina “baked” you a cake. And let’s not talk about my Emergence, but there was steak, Braxton. Anyway, today is your Christmas or, instead, Happy Turkey Day. Can you tell that I’m trying to remember all the good times? The way you would dance around. And B, if you’re a good boy, pretty lucky one, grandma would pat your head. Thanksgiving dinner. Braxton, this isn’t me being a smartass, but you do remember last year? She brought a whole turkey… You were here to share it with.

Speaking of sharing, you know it’s my routine to share my sins on Wednesday. I did plenty, but I’m talking to you a bit earlier, not by much. You know about this time with NaNo season, I’m deep into my writing. There was the time ants invaded us one year. While I was working this afternoon, I found that I got 4,600 words down before 5:00 PM. So that’s good for me, right? You know what I’m doing half the time… But do you know why I got this done today? I didn’t stop to cry over you. Oh, I sobbed later, B as always. Braxton, it was like you weren’t on my mind at all. Language of the Heart, Only Gone From Your Sight.

It gets worse B III. Yesterday I spoke about things from my past. There are things I bought or did before you were ever here. I’ve been lugging one around with me all day. I feel as Ellie did some “Its light on the reading, but its got some interesting photos,” Um, yes and no. English Visual Novels B III. We would lie right where I’m sitting now, and I would read all sorts of stuff. Of course, things like cough Virgin Roster cough I saved for when you went to bed or got in trouble. Finally, there was what concerned me before you died. I shouldn’t cough, and I should say you’re still alive. Right now, though, I’m hungry, and I can’t share with you. Forgetting A’s Yeah B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 146 ~Law Abiding Citizen B~

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Justice was done today; more like people were held accountable. What is justice? The song goes, “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.” I don’t have any reason to go walking or jogging anymore without B but my crimes? Law Abiding Citizen B

Wednesday, November 24, 2021

Chronicle 146 ~Law Abiding Citizen B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means Hell yes, I’m above the law. If anything, I need to buy some forgiveness.

Now you’ll have to excuse me, Inspector Echo. Like I’ve been telling all the other girls and B III about calling you so late. While I’ve been dicking around with my writing, I’ve been looking at white boys getting away with murder. White men, going to jail or “I Hope.” Yeah, break out my best impression of Morgan Freeman from The Shawshank Redemption. But I’m more like Tim Robbins except fucking myself often. You’ll have to pardon my language Inspector but believe me when I say I’ve written much worse. Don’t worry, we’ll get to my novel. At the moment, the worse crime I’m committing is the fucking smell. Writing like this for two days straight. Starving myself. And sleep being my second greatest sin.

Of course, we know what the first is, don’t we? 297 Days and I “always” speak the truth. Three little words… I killed Braxton. I have continued reading “Only Gone From Your Sight.” Kate/Jack says I’m doing Braxton a major disservice wallowing in grief still. Inspector the idea that Braxton is with me right now? I do take comfort in it, but the things I do. Hell, B III was a saint by comparison. It’s scary that I don’t want B to see me. Yes, I’ve said that he accepted me for everything but between this and “This Dog’s Afterlife.” As the song goes, “Cause without you, they’re never gonna let me in.” Braxton’s defense? To be honest, he’d follow me straight to Hell, dammit.

“So I’ll say, “Why don’t you and I
Get together and fly
To the moon and straight on to heaven?
‘Cause without you, they’re never gonna let me in” ― Why Don’t You & I

“Now that the world isn’t ending
It’s love that I’m sending to you
It isn’t the love of a hero
And that’s why I fear it won’t do” (Chad Kroeger)

I couldn’t do that to my boy. Then we get to my writing and where my “character” is a family man with Sabrina (wifey), Bastian (B), Willow (daughter). Oh, my wife is expecting too. Then I go and turn Willow into a mass murderer. What is wrong with me, Echo? While I was writing that tripe, I got back into, let’s say, a past life. Remember Virgin Roster? Anyway, I was busy perusing J-List and, as they say, “English Visual Novels.” There’s one title of the sort that nobody sells. And I took a character from that and Virgin Roster. Inspector, you don’t happen to work for, um, The Man? I always go back to the week before Braxton left me. Law Abiding Citizen B.

297 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 145 ~Tail Of Two B’s~

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As B passed, he looked me in the face. I turned around when his heart was no longer beating. When there was no longer the huff and puff of breath. When he could not hoist himself from the table. But turning my back on more “family” “Tail Of Two B’s.”

Tuesday, November 23, 2021

Chronicle 145 ~Tail Of Two B’s~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but if my father taught me anything, it’s that money is no replacement for someone’s love.

Time is money… well, I haven’t been sitting here crying all day over my lost boy. Ok, yes, I paused a bit and “let it out” while I was reading. It seems this or that, one way or another, that something is pulling us apart. The more things change, the more they stay the same. I let everything and everyone get in the way when it came to Braxton and me. The idea was to keep us alive. I loved him more than anything in this world but to survive, to build a life. With all the love songs in existence, I cannot believe “All You Need Is Love.” Again all day, it’s been about working, writing. To this day, I hate the Day Job.

Of course, I’m talking about the old one. The thing is, what that hellhole and doing what I want have in common? I put everything I have into them and leave nothing for myself. I’ve had a nap today, but I’ve barely eaten anything. Yes, time is money. My masterpiece? I wouldn’t go that far when it comes to my novel. How many years have I made this error? I’m the guy that gets mad when the line is too long at McD’s, and I’m late picking up a pizza from Pizza Hut. I’ll sit in the B-Dubs parking lot for a half-hour for food. Dammit, all the time I could be giving to my family, and it goes out the window on this crap.

Braxton would be upset that I still haven’t learned this lesson. I’ve told you before he taught me so much, but to cherish time? I would say Braxton taught me plenty of patience. When it came to things like walking, giving him his medication, just sitting on my lap waiting. I made time for him and before the end, where was I? Buying fries every day to avoid walks. Getting annoyed when I had to carry him. Fuck me. Yeah, when’s the last time you and I did that baby girl? Anyway, I would carry B forever and a day if I had the chance. The children can’t wait, neither can you, and I shouldn’t as you Love Me Now. But, Tail Of Two B’s

296 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 144 ~Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism~

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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

Chronicle 140 ~B In The Corner~

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Don’t remember when I was a boy (I still am, overgrown baby at 37) if anyone ever told me to stand in the corner. I got a friend who wants to be a real fighter; as for what I want to do in the corner. Sit in the fetal position and cry. B In The Corner

Thursday, November 18, 2021

Chronicle 140 ~B In The Corner~

291 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I hate saying this, but this is another day I’ll curl up in the corner.

“Legends don’t die; they reload.” There’s also, um, “Marines don’t die. They go to Hell and regroup.” Now ain’t the time for such ideas? I also know I’m no legend or marine. But B III, the world is a step closer to the brink, and where are you, apocalypse partner? Braxton, I know I’m late talking to you today. When I did wake up from my nap today, I was scared out of my mind. It’s been 291 days, and I’ll always miss you guarding the stairs. The days when you would sit in the den waiting for me to share my fries Little B. It was the only way I could get undressed. The corner of my bed B III brings me to today.

First, it was your spot to protect me. I would wake up and not fear a goddamn thing in the darkness. You’d be sitting right there staring into the abyss which is outside this room. Second, I’ve been reading a lot about what dogs can see. It’s no secret that even when they said you were going blind, you could see me. You fought back the evils of my mind. No wonder I’m thinking about the military, or it could be First Blood and Red Dawn. Anyway, third, speaking of movies, you were always in my corner, my Mick. Nicknames? You, more than anybody, know my affinity for good cinema. In this case, Rocky. And then, last Saturday, I went looking for an Apollo Creed.

I’ve been waiting to ask you all week, what would you think about that? Lord Give Me A Sign as the song goes. Last night your grandma called and told me your great grandfather’s dog passed. Are you making new friends? That was a warning. Dammit, I could not go through such a loss again. Then at the same time, I could have saved him B. I’m talking about Chase at PetSmart. To be a Dad again? I’ve never stopped. Only I’m not worthy. Now yes fuck R. Kelly as a human being but that song Bad Man. “And don’t need no love.” That’s what I keep telling myself, but there’s one problem. You’re standing right there in the corner and ain’t hear no bell. Woke, B In The Corner

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 139 ~Number Of B’s Gotten~

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When I was a kid in summer school, I prayed to “God” that I ended up with a D average to keep my father from beating me. He nearly ruined root beer. I hit a dog once, which almost ruined Icee’s. Stuff a D student, shouldn’t do. “Number Of B’s Gotten”

Wednesday, November 17, 2021

Chronicle 139 ~Number Of B’s Gotten~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I shouldn’t be catching many Z’s, but the ones I get must be peaceful.

Usually, after I pull my shorts back on. Such is the start of my shame today at what? It’s 7:10 PM, so why am I calling you so late. Day 1 of No Fap again, thanks to 2. Scarlet and… Anyway, along with the conversation we’re having, I have yet again written 5,000 words. I continue to lie to NaNoWriMo. I’m at 28,000 when I should have 28,900. Wasted day. Inspector, I thought I would stop with that. What, did life not matter 290 Days ago? If it had, Braxton would be here. He’d be bored to tears, but “I’m writing for us,” I’d grumble. Should have thought better of that when I was still in school. I would be better off. A B student?

If you count what I know about B III, that is. As for how many classes I failed. How I could make it out of high school at all. My Olds money I threw away at junior college. Such sin. Why not add up everything I have going on with me mentally. Right now, I’m pretty clear-headed, and I told you why. The biggest problem is, at the moment, ADD or OCD. It goes. It was only at the Day Job a day, or so ago, I caught myself counting, I don’t know what. Perhaps how many dogs I’ve seen die. That I can take some guilt for… 2 or 3, B III being last. The worst are dogs I hated. Being A B student?

I was too full of, as Star Wars would put it. Fear, Anger, Hate, Suffering. Again at this very moment, it’s pretty much all disgust and self-loathing. Mixed with exhaustion. Looking at my schedule for the rest of the week. Sometimes I think NaNoWriMo should revoke my membership. Not like they’re checking up. Arrived at the point of no return. Yeah, like I was at PetSmart last Saturday. I talked about checking my wallet, week 3, and no Chase. I didn’t even talk to the ladies there. They say comedy comes in 3’s, huh, Echo. I’m not ready to be a dad again or any other type of “Real One.” Because I keep saying I’m no B Student. Echo, count the Number Of B’s Gotten.

290 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 138 ~May Love B Unconditional~

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Do kids still watch Pinky and the Brain? I want to know what my own children will be into. With B III, it was the same thing every day, fries. I wouldn’t mind spending my nights trying to take over the world, but I mourn it. May Love B Unconditional.

Tuesday, November 16, 2021

Chronicle 138 ~May Love B Unconditional~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I didn’t love what I was doing, I’d never leave the house again Love.

What do I mean? Crying? Where are we now, 289 Days in? I was outside today, telling myself that B would be mad at me for dropping all those fries. It wouldn’t matter to him. He wouldn’t care if I didn’t get my lazy ass out of bed for his meds. One more reason Braxton’s dead though it was his kidneys and not his heart. Hell, Braxton loves my trying. Doing my best, as winners go home and fuck the prom queen. Tell me, Baby Girl were you the prom queen. I didn’t go to my prom, but I didn’t save my son Braxton either. Today my point is that it didn’t matter to him… Again I tell myself his love was unconditional. Plus fries

Now our kids would have liked me bringing a puppy home. I can honest to God tell you that I wasn’t thinking anything about them on what, Oct 30th. How I track my failures, sigh. Any way they want me to stop somewhere and again look at Braxton. He’s not even in the car. I take that back. He’s always with me, but I stop every day picking up some lunch. Yeah, I’ve said before that he would skip walks if he had fries when he was here. Do I want to quiet our own kids? The silence was unbearable, then endured. Now it’s what I deserve. That being the deafness of Braxton no longer being here. Yet do I want to talk about it?

Only mourning this long? Every day I think you’re upset that I can’t overcome this. In truth, I don’t want to. I’ve done, do, will continue several “unspeakable” acts. Baby Doll, it’s this, though. The suffering of the loss of B III gets my friends to give up ok. I talk to Braxton’s Aunt once a week. Saturdays when I visit Petsmart. The doggies. Remember M Anime? She says God bless Braxton’s little soul, but what else is there? Cherry has her own losses and everything else in her life. Braxton has my sobbing. However, thinking I can’t talk to my own wife? Hell, I can’t speak to Braxton either with what I tried to do on Nov 13th. Another betrayal? May Love B Unconditional

289 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 137 ~Victory Is Faster Than Escape~

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So what did I win today? I didn’t get fired from a job I hate; my humiliations were kept small. Somebody got banned on my blog. I get to talk more about my dead son. This for sure ain’t winning, but where would I run? “Victory Is Faster Than Escape”

Monday, November 15, 2021

Chronicle 137 ~Victory Is Faster Than Escape~

Two-Hundred And Fourteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and money is the fastest way out of any situation. Well, a bullet, bucks, and, yeah, boobies.

I find the sandman can be as efficient as any hitman. He acts as quickly, at least because, as you can see, I’m still alive. I swear, J, if you told me I could close my eyes and never open them again… I’m not saying something STUPID like I love you, I’m not crazy either. Yeah, I keep telling myself that. Hell, I ain’t been right since Braxton died; I wasn’t right before that, but I at least had someone. I told Carolina Bound today, you know B III’s Aunt that it keeps piling up. All that pain, prose, and those penis-pumping wants. Is it any wonder I became a monk 288 Days ago? Victory, Escape, no Madam, I was defeated. Accept my unconditional surrender.

NaNoWriMo hasn’t defeated me yet, but I still lie my ass off every day. It’s like I’m some make-believe General and I would settle for that than what I’ve been. Today has been challenging, and what am I complaining about? Who am I complaining to; a better question, J? This Monday, I have yet to cross the point of no return regarding my writing. I even listened to some motivations, and I was getting revved up and then, of course, life. It seems that I and everyone else in my life are dreaming of a place to call home. Where’s that? Tell me where Braxton is and that I could follow him. B III fought hard just to get home. He’d want me to win.

The problem is to be a winner, I have to destroy the man he tried to save. Does that make any sense, Madam? How do they say you win some, you lose some, but you live. Talk to Braxton about his last fight. I had to destroy his father and become the freaking reaper J. I was telling Cherry this morning that a man provides for his family, and may I be such a man someday. I’ve often said that the epitome of manhood is not where you stick your dick but what happens after. Being a father, that’s me winning, success, victory. I would instead Take The Long Way Home. Braxton died at 15; I’m 37 and getting older. Victory Is Faster Than Escape

288 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 133 ~So Who You B~

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Yeah, sometimes I’m too tired. Others I’m asking for help in the strangest of ways. If “This Dog’s Afterlife” is anything more than wishful thinking, then dogs learn how to read. So I keep writing to my lost boy. Or I should ask, “So Who You B.”

Thursday, November 11, 2021

Chronicle 133 ~So Who You B~

284 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If “This Dog’s Afterlife” is any indication, then I’m sure it’s freaking awesome. I hope

Santa, is that who I should be talking to? I was thinking more Morgan Freeman, aka Red. “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” well-inching closer Braxton. Awesome… Satan doesn’t think so, or that’s what I was thinking to myself when I held Chase the Saturday before last. I should stop thinking about that fur baby. Christmas present now? Soldier, steady on. But while I got soul, I’m not a soldier as the song goes, and yes, I know what day it is. It was yesterday, though, that was so exhausting. I’m all discombobulated. Like on any day since you’ve been gone, I’m trying to find myself again. 284 Days isn’t going to cut it. I’m only hoping that I can be as productive.

Writing? Is that what I’m doing. I’m a writer. I still remember you thought I was a doorman with your demands. At least you got me out of bed, B. Where am I right now? Wealth isn’t raining over me, but I did get paid today. If you were here, I wouldn’t ever let things get this bad. B, I’m looking at grilled cheese sandwiches, and as for your food? Women never came before you. Though I thought for sure, you would have gone home with your aunt. How about the way you led her to the bedroom? Southern Braxton… Have you changed at all? As I said before, with the book, I’m reading. If it’s one thing I know, it’s that you could fly.

Sinning prevents me from doing as such. Yes, your Daddy is still on his wanting to be a monk trip. At least I did do some pretty decent work, though… after. You had gone out. Survivor, or the Soul Survivor, that’s what I am now, and I don’t like it. But I better get used to it because come this Saturday I will still be alone. Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge? Savior, when I don’t look a thing like Jesus. Sorry about all the musical references. As I said, I’ve been working. But how could I see you again? Had I known how to save a life? That was the last song, promise. But my B with everything you have going on. So Who You B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 131 ~Can’t We B Friends~

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Who’s your best friend? I’d like to say a pretty girl. More to the point, Braxton would say over my dead body, and here we are. Well, minus both girl and dog. There’s a lot of pretty girls in this city but only one Braxton. So Why Can’t We B Friends?

Tuesday, November 9, 2021

Chronicle 131 ~Can’t We B Friends~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but also a Boy as in, “that’s my boy.’ A Brother. A Better man, aka Daddy.

Ah yes, what about, husband? Before that Betrothed? If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been reading another book “This Dog’s Afterlife.” It has a couple losing a dog and another losing a kid but anyway. How about a Boyfriend? Good times.

Further back even, a Best friend, right? Nobody tells you how to be these things. If I were my father, I’d throw some money at it and consider myself a good man. These days I’m less and less of one I know. Of course, I failed way before now. Even more than the 282 Days since B III’s been gone. I’m tired. You put up with my ass when I had the old-day job. You survived my madness back then, but B III didn’t. I envy him every so often.

Some days like today. I should have stopped myself sooner. Working for people I hated, and it’s cost me the one I love. Then it’s a fucking domino effect; pardon my language. I’ve been down for so long, and I ain’t getting up any time soon. Well, then I’m disgusted. Getting “up?” There’s some things you don’t tell your friends. Keep it “In The Closet.” No, I don’t mean like that. I’ll entertain dark “passions” over hatred forever, baby girl. Impossible as it may seem. As my best friend lay dying, I had no idea who I was or what. So every single day, it’s like I’m living some sort of character and the real me? It’s Kill Bill and, wiggle your big toe Love.

A friend might tolerate all my pop culture references; a best friend would get them all. And then there was Braxton. He would be right here listening to “Ben,” “Would You Be There,” and “In The Closet,” thinking to himself. “Women ain’t nothing but trouble.” Braxton was/is the boy, as the kids say, “kept it 92 plus 8.” Oh, um, and you, my Baby Doll. You could ask anything of me, anything at all. Your wish is my command, but in this, my lost son. I know I must sound like a fool which explains why I don’t have many friends. If I did, though, I wouldn’t go around killing them. Where’s Braxton’s privilege there? That doggie in the window. Why Can’t We B Friends

282 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will