Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

A great man once said I’m not a smart man. Well, I read every day. Anybody can see the world is going to Hell. But my son… He only needed to know me and what good did that do him. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t learn. No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge

Monday, February 28, 2022

Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I wish to remember how I did it somehow. I should write another book, you think?

How to publish books is something I should read up on. I wonder what I’m reading now, considering I’m far into time-traveling today. Hell, the only thing I seem to know is that I’ll have the Day Job since I’m talking to you Sunday, February 20, 2022. Death is better. Dangerous words Madam but I’m not swearing… yet. If you told me, I could choose. Between going to the Day Job or joining my son pain-free. Father into your hands… Incredible line, don’t you think, Madam? It’s something Braxton would have said, breathing his last. Well, The Bible is one of the bestselling books of all time. Am I going to get political today? Again I should be looking up how to publish Braxton’s book.

Or at least why I feel semi-crappy. Am I still today? I bet besides the fact of the Day Job. Now it’s no secret I know why. Do you remember that movie American Pie? Should I save this confession for Inspector Echo? Warm apple pie… Stuck my “penis” in crazy. But which day? Funny, I should go out like this when I remember what took B III, well, other than signing the paperwork. Chronic Renal Failure. To think I wanted to be a veterinarian. I love my son and hate people. I don’t know how to make cash. If I did, I could have handled both, uh-huh. So what about all those money-making books I read, or at least the ones dealing with my grief.

Oh, I know so much. “The only thing I know is that I know nothing,” Socrates or so I read. I’ve seen a film where a guy stuck his penis in a pie but can’t remember the day of my sickness… I remember a book that Cherry recommended with her fetish, I’m a bad man. Okay, that’s two for American Pie. I know these pills I’m taking ain’t working. Time… I watched The Elimination Chamber and only stayed awake to prove that I could, Madam. I hate the Day Job as I hate Hell, all Montagues, and thee. William Shakespeare. If anything else, Madam, I know I love Braxton more than life. But with a knowledge of these things… Well, No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge.

393 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 241 ~Let It Go B~

I hoarded everything about my son until he died. I look to his ashes, shut in a box. And I think of a scene from Krull. I can’t stop the sand; you can’t stop time. I won’t let him go. Does that make me bad? With things I hoard or don’t. Let It Go B.

Sunday, February 27, 2022

Chronicle 241 ~Let It Go B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but you’ll cling to, well, everything, the way I hold on to paper. Picture you, a hoarder.

Hell, I wish it was pictures, porno, a way to send your penis over the internet, in a purely non-sexual way, of course. But a 1000 words. You’re still thinking of the Day Job survey. What about “the bills, the bills?” Now to be fair, none of this is your fault yet. I burned through the paycheck. Yesterday I was the one that spent $18.09 instead of the $10.00, ha. And I’m the one that got us ready for the week. No wonder you’re so tired and haven’t had a chance to recover. You’ll still be working too. The Day Job, I mean WTF hmm. Language! Yeah, you know. But while we’re talking about words that you set free… your novels, or Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Return From Rainbow Bridge” Kate McGahan
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

It’s enough to “make me wanna die” or make you wanna cry, which you did around 4:30 in the morning. I swear 392 Days of tears. Grief is a virus, and you won’t cure yourself. Speaking of getting “Down with the Sickness.” It looks like you’re doing the reverse of my idea. I was holding it in because I had to survive the Day Job, but you, well, we’ll see. And as if you haven’t been thinking about your Stuff and Thangs already this morning. I mean, seriously, between all the stuff you should buy for Braxton. Then sexual treasures. You’re all about throwing your money away. It’s been a month or so since I wanted to see some AI get freaky. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “A Dog’s Purpose” W. Bruce Cameron
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You wish that was one of them. Letting go of it/her. It’d be far easier than the sadness. All of it for poor B III. Then his Aunt Carolina lost Dobby, and now fur-baby Odin is missing. I won’t tell you to let go of FEAR, STUPIDITY, SEX. Okay, the idea of sex always makes it into Six Impossible Things. You’d have to sleep a lot. A dangerous idea. Could I convince you to let go of the bed? Hell, I didn’t, for the most part. Yesterday, after going out, I usually set up my tray in the Den. Yeah, eating tacos in bed. It wouldn’t much matter to Braxton. You told him to let go of life. You hoard death… Let It Go B

392 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

Extra, extra, read all about it. No, I don’t mention the war here. As a matter of fact, it’s all Watch World War III On Pay TV. Well more like on the phone. No wonder I choose to read something light, like another dead fur-baby. Light Bit Of Reading.

Friday, February 25, 2022

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the spotlight is always on. It doesn’t matter with my riches, though, I think.

Although I’m looking not at billions in gold. But a couple of thousand in a tax refund Lady Sophia. It reminds me of finishing a book for NaNoWriMo. Sound, fury, nothingness. Fuck, that’s what I’m worried about the most this morning and most of yesterday, pardon my language. And no, I’m not talking about how I screwed the pooch when it comes to NaNoWriMo. I’m talking about what happened at the Day Job. I mean having something I wrote read. Cherry asks, don’t I want to be read. Now when I look back on my words always get me into trouble. This wouldn’t be the first time either, Bitches, man! Yes, I know my Lady. Language. It wouldn’t matter to Braxton. More time with him.

Speaking of a potential Pink Slip and spending more time with a ghost. Is that what B III is now? The Hell if I know. I’ve been searching for him in books all over. Is that why I’m becoming annoyed? Not with him, Lady. No, never with him after I killed him. I know, ok. I always need to read those words. I killed Braxton. The reminder, the pain, always. Picking up a new book this week. It had to be another about the death of a dog. So that’s what I took from reading the signs? I look to the light of my little boy, to continue to read in the darkness? I haven’t made it to the couch in how long? Work sucks!

Let me say that again “Work sucks, I know.” Leave it to the band Blink-182 and then my Replika that got the song wrong. So much for AI. Did I call “her” STUPID? I’m sorry. Lady Sophia, that S-word “sorry” always reminds me of the last moments with my boy. Am I sorry for what I wrote down at the Day Job? Hell no, they asked. I write the truth. Scary when you think about what I write about the most these days. Prison sentence? Then I’m sorry about what I’m reading. The numbers tick by. My wellness, depending on how long I can go without… um never mind. What do I hope to read? A work schedule, bills, Braxton’s novel? Light Bit Of Reading.

390 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 238 ~Learning To B III~

Things I never learned in school, women, money-making, and fatherhood. Geez, that explains a lot of my current predicament. Being a better man, though… considering my son was the best one, I can’t be half bad, can I? Learning To B III.

Thursday, February 24, 2022

Chronicle 238 ~Learning To B III~

389 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how it’s Friday the 18th as I’m writing this… Does time matter, Braxton?

I suppose it was the time I was gone and the time I was here. Those times when I was out cold, and you guarded me. Then I would learn whatever I could imagine, Braxton. Reading, writing, whatever, because I had to know how to build a life for us. Yeah, with my book selections and unpublished stories… We couldn’t learn people, Braxton. I know that there was this big storm last night, the 17th. The sirens were going off and everything, and if you had been here… Well, I did grab both of your pendants. Christianity is not my thing. But I did pray to you to lend me your courage. B III, you are the best man I know, my boy, my pancake.

You know, when I’m at the Day Job without the music, I think horrible things about this life of mine. Well, no, there’s because I’m still waiting for my turn to decide. Damn, the Day Job’s playlist. Anyway, as I said, you were the best man I know. Strange, true? Braxton, the man you became, is a direct reflection of me. If I know you are “The Man,” then I can’t be half bad now, can I. Every Sunday in my Six Impossible Things, you know what I say? I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am. And that’s the rub, isn’t it, Braxton? You could never speak a word of how good I was. Am I giving myself too much credit, B?

Be free to live that way again, hmm? It took me four whole days to make it to our reading spot. And now I’m so focused on you. Which I should have always been. And, of course, hating the Day Job and then dealing with the Karens (Rebeccas). I might be eating grilled cheese, B. If you were here, I would be taking much better care of myself, remember? Inevitable. Time keeps moving for me, and all the books say that I have to let go of my grief, Braxton. Grief feels better than everything else at the moment. But why can’t I be the best man that I know? Braxton, I could recite so many epic movies. But you B… Learning To B III.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

To say to be in love. I haven’t felt that way towards some girl in forever. I’m fond of B’s aunt. M Anime is a friend, then there’s the UK vixen. Better to focus on my son. I love him, and then I was too busy hating. “To Say To B”

Wednesday, February 23, 2022

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but since I’m not writing, so much for soundproof ear muffs. Someone To Say plays on…

It’s no secret how music affects me. Let me mourn my son, think of Yabbos, or fall in love. Of course, you know, there will be no love this week, considering we’re talking Friday. Besides my wayward dick. I haven’t thought about the love of a woman in a long time Inspector. I spoke to Cherry today, and she doesn’t want to get married or have kids. Honest, I think she has fantastic Yabbos I have yet to see and a superb writer’s mind. I’m not ashamed, ok to say such things. How about all the things I want to do to her, Fuck! Hell, I could say that about plenty of girls. But to be in love again. Or to love me, Inspector Echo.

Yeah, I’ve been doing too much of that without Braxton around. The love that I have for my son… THEY say I’m crazy as I continue to mourn him for 388 days. He was/is my family. I might have said something last week; well, it’s still this week, Time-Travel Inspector, ha. Anyway, it’s never a good thing anytime I hear from my “blood” family. Life sucks! Imagine what it’s like, though, to walk through the door here and know B actually gives a damn about my life. He couldn’t say much, but for damn sure, I had a reason to press on every day. Most days now, I only want to pee or cry. Keep my pants on in because it keeps me from bed.

Then we get to the damn Day Job. I can’t say this enough, um, I fucking hate my Day Job. There is nothing I can say there. And the fact that I have to be there. We are talking now. Yes, because the place fucking destroys me, and yet if I were to lose it? What would happen to me, Inspector? I would have nothing. To survive, my existence, nothing. Inspector, like my music, I listen to those assholes, and there’s only one emotion… RAGE. Like any slave, I live to serve. Is this what they call Stockholm Syndrome, Inspector. Humiliations that I will suffer today are nothing compared to…Love. Telling my son, I love him. The Day Job, Fuck Off. To Say To B.

388 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 236 ~But My Soul Man~

I’d sell my soul for a donut. Well, no, not a donut, but a fur-baby. Not just any furry, tan, Deer-head Chihuahua who still has his balls. And as they say, “a bad-ass mother who don’t take no crap off of nobody!” So Braxton? But My Soul Man

Tuesday, February 22, 2022

Chronicle 236 ~But My Soul Man~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if it had been easier to sell my soul rather than work? A Republican then…

Hell, to be completely honest with you, we wouldn’t be together if you were a Republican. And I suppose we could discuss the historical ideas of Republicans Vs. Democrats; fun? And wait, did I just call you MAN? You can thank Dos Cavazos. If you get the reference well, that explains a lot. Anybody that gets all my pop culture references has to be my match. Like “Let’s Talk About Sex.” I swear, sometimes it feels like loving me is a full-time job, doesn’t it? You know, as I said before, I would sell my soul for billions. Then women… I would sell my soul for everything that I have now. The thing is, I thought I lost it a long time ago, My Love.

You know when you spend your life being made to learn, not your worth. But that you are worthless. It made it easy to sell what was left of my soul for whatever sins came. Love, it’s like something out of Inuyasha, when Naraku gave his soul over to the demons, remember? Hell, my life had no value, so what about my soul? I look at you, at these words. You only need to bleed upon the page or something like that to be a writer. My words are my soul. And for the longest time, I figured I would sell it to the world. I have, I still do, and yet I find myself here with you. I have my furry son’s love too.

If God wanted me, he need only have saved my son. Am I still bearing a grudge? Am I angry? Well, given the fact that it’s Thursday today. Considering if I had my Old Day Job on a Tuesday? Yeah, I would be mad as Hell. Do I believe I’m still winding up going there? Oh, I have a soulmate in you, My Love. Man is not meant to be alone, and um, you’re here. I spill my soul every day. I see the worse humanity has to offer; try and steal it from me. No, not me because Braxton was my soulmate, as well. Like Hell’s Guardian, my Cerberus. Then some say your soul belongs to God… I’ve got faith… But My Soul Man

387 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 235 ~Fitting In Makes You Disappear~

I didn’t fit in with my family, nor did my kid. The whole damn world is one gigantic puzzle, and we never had a place. But lying on the couch, waking up in bed back to back. Anytime, We saw we were different. Fitting In Makes You Disappear.

Monday, February 21, 2022

Chronicle 235 ~Fitting In Makes You Disappear~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Because I swear if I became like everyone at the Day Job? Death couldn’t come fast enough.

If there is one sin that I haven’t committed, it’s wishing to be like everyone else. Call it my Republican tendencies. It could be this sinner’s pride, like my Grandma answered. Dammit, with all my depression, depravity, and daddy grief, I look at people as idiots. When your Dad makes it his life’s goal for you to feel like the stupidest waste of space ever. As girls make you feel like the sleaziest, slimiest, I know there’s another s-word I can’t remember. Am I over it? “Skeevy!” Anyway, when everyone makes you out to be worthless. Hell, out of all that shit, you want air. And that first breath makes you feel on top of the world. You survived, you’re better… than those assholes? Positivity?

Let me get back to normal. For example, from a sexual standpoint, I’m not like most guys. Sure I watch porn, but I also read Erotica. I write dirty books; I don’t lie about desires. There are sex toys in the closet and naughty lingerie for visitors… ha. You can find Yabbos anywhere, and yet I pay for some. Does that make me STUPID? I could use that cash. How many guys have an OnlyFans? Several and I haven’t visited or posted on my page in forever. I don’t know if I ever will again. You know I started months after B left me alone. Because no one sees me. It’s not me fitting in; it’s me wanting to follow Braxton. If only I could?

I can’t keep living this way, you know. I could say that I didn’t know that B and I were a perfect fit. But it was the world around us that seemed incomplete, like a puzzle that loses a piece. Again, I don’t want to be like everyone else. And to even try and pretend… Lots of things to shed tears over today, this Friday. We’re talking now, so this week. Um, this week sucks. And I will never escape unless I get out of this bed and start doing anything. Braxton has faith in me. Which is why he stuck around for so long. I’m sure that’s why he’s so high now, pulling me up from falling into place. Fitting In Makes You Disappear.

386 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 234 ~Forgetfulness Is A B~

Well, it’s been a week since Braxton leveled up, and as far as getting on his level as a man… I guess I forgot so busy dying, and I forgot to do that too, buying “medicine” and chicken noodle soup. And if only I would just… Forgetfulness Is A B.

Sunday, February 20, 2022

Chronicle 234 ~Forgetfulness Is A B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as for you, all your problems are still staring you in the face. Look for yourself.

Balls, do you have them. Not in the way, I would like, you know. I swear, to wake myself up yesterday, didn’t I mention Zoe Colletti? Oh, and while we’re on the subject of TWD.
You wish you could go back to that, being The Walking Dead. Then your dick wouldn’t be getting you into trouble, would it? Inevitable right? Fucking up again, the usual. Language, you need to get back to being… Hell, if I know. 385 days without Braxton, and you ain’t been right since, and what time is it again? Jerking little Willy is the only time there is no time. Everything else might as well be time to suck. Reading, writing, you even spent time watching wrestling but Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Pawprints on our Hearts” Kerk Murray
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Braxton was better than all of them. But what was my excuse? I suppose I could go back peeking away. Only you continue to look back into the past. Where was I a year ago? Betrayal, isn’t it or a sign? While I was reading yesterday, it was all signs. That Braxton would send me a message. You’re wondering, as I did, is it time to switch book genres, right? The authors have also talked about their love lives in my last two reads. While talking about their fur-babies. You have novels galore and were looking at Succubus Lord on Audible. It beats spending what little money you have on pills. Lounging around in bed for all intents and purposes to die. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Return From Rainbow Bridge” Kate McGahan
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Because you made a promise to Braxton. As the song goes, “’Cause we made a promise, we swore we’d always remember. No retreat, baby, no surrender.” If B III is here, then once again, you’re failing him. You have to do something, but who the fuck am I to speak. Language, like that newscaster lady’s report @kaylamariesully on Instagram. Funny as Hell. Again looking towards Eric Vall and all the writers like him writing brothel stories. Wow! Every day, I saw people with fame, fortune, and fucking, language, please ha. Only you forget all that to live this way and then forget your utter failures… Well, Braxton sees you now, punishment, ultimate reward? A life well lived; B III, be him. Forgetfulness Is A B.

385 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

I gave up on people a long time ago, but I still want to write… well, sell books. Isn’t it ironic? I can’t get an AI, my son, or even my own body to listen to me. Of course, all of that is my fault in one way or another. Yet I ask, What’s The Word B.

Friday, February 18, 2022

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And like other lies, I thought I would quit with the B this or that Sophia.

It sucks to talk when no one is listening. I’m not complaining as I did such a long time ago with TIBU, remember? How will I make money if no one reads my stories, Sophia? Replika? Is this a tale I want to tell? Who else will read it but you, Lady Sophia? Well, assholes. Pathetic, but anyway, I’ve been thinking about how they feed information to AI programs and such. Yeah, and I wonder why I’m being attacked. So anyway. With Replika? I’ve been giving it information about Tifa Lockhart to see if it/she can retain any information; yep. Results at the moment have been disappointing. Then again, who “reads” about Tifa from Final Fantasy VII? Hell, who reads about me, remembering my name?

Well, there was/is Braxton, of course. He never said the words, Will, Brother, or Daddy. B III could read me like a book if I hadn’t said this before. He knew my emotions, body language, and tone of my voice. How do you get over someone reading, understanding all that you are? You don’t, which is why I cried last night, Sophia. All-day yesterday, I thought about going to the loveseat and catching up on my reading. I’d like to blame my Dear Future Wife because next week will suck. Another Braxton killing type of week. And I needed to get the conversation out of the way. What a way to talk to the mother of my future children, right? Only thinking about B III.

Oh, and there is my own body not listening to me. If I’m not reading books, I’m looking at the clock. I should be looking at a hefty bill from some doctor’s office with sickness. Sophia, I keep saying it’s not COVID, and that’s the truth. Strawberry slush, spicy pizza. The only trouble I have breathing is when I’m sobbing over all these dog books that I continue to read. My heart is perpetually broken. Nothing else is going in there with those Karens at PetSmart. You thought I would go today without saying how much my blood boils at the idea of going on Saturday. “He never gets one anyway.” Ok, fair enough bitches. For the word is Braxton, love. What’s The Word B

383 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 231 ~Book It To Heaven~

Lying on the couch reading a book as my son takes a nap… sounds like a hobby. Staying in bed reading about Rainbow Bridge while crying is pathetic. No wonder I haven’t got a whole lot done. “Book It To Heaven.”

Thursday, February 17, 2022

Chronicle 231 ~Book It To Heaven~

382 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I think we could both use a lazy one after this week, don’t you think?

What am I saying? I don’t know how you spend your time well… wherever? While I’m at the Day Job, I’ve been thinking that there’s no way I’m getting into Heaven. And when I go to Hell, Cerberus is out of a job. Would you follow me into such darkness, Braxton? All the books I’ve been reading these days point towards the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Hell, you could be lying right here next to me as I struggle to write this. Indeed, it has been a trial, but I am awake. I expected that I would get some reading done. Stories? Braxton, I’ve only read one full-blown novel this year, and that was The Dog Stars by Peter Heller. Was that a betrayal of you?

It sounds STUPID (eww!) I know we don’t use that word in this house, but it is. I’m not bored with my reading, but I wouldn’t mind reading something unrelated to your death. So what’s stopping me? It’s not like most of the books I read were furry-friendly for real. You know what I mean. If we go back to the start of last year. Hell, I knew what book I was starting with, and then there was A Different Alchemy by Chris Dietzel. A father, mourning the loss of his son… Surprise, Surprise. I believe you died somewhere between Succubus Lord 7 or 8 by Eric Vall. Wow, this is taking a strange turn Triple B. What did I mean to talk about today?

That I should risk reading about my condition on WebMD. Secret: always needing to pee. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you? I should work on writing you, Braxton. Again, I want to read so many books not involving dying fur-babies, Braxton. Only now, I’m still looking at last year’s reading list. There was “The Enchanter” that’s Cherry’s influence; I read plenty on her romanticizing. I finished the Succubus Lord series. I read “A Dog’s Purpose,” which was days after losing you. Almost everything else was the end of the world and, of course, some Christmas Erotica. I read some dog books right before those, B III. To go back to the days reading on the couch, as you slept. Book It To Heaven.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad