Tag: Chronicle

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

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So what are my Christmas plans? If I’m lucky, I’ll sleep most of the day. Well, after breakfast. I might take a walk around the neighborhood like I once did with Braxton. Being a black man, it’s like you have to be invited outside. An Invitation To B

Thursday, December 23, 2021

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

326 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were never one for the groomers. But my head feels better. Outside at least.

I tell you B inside it’s a Dead Man’s Party and everyone’s invited. Yeah, I know that look you’re giving me “leave your body at the door.” We should have talked way sooner than this. You know if I plan on going to the movies tonight. Somewhere inviting me back. Isn’t it like Emergence Day? The only people wishing me well are people that want my money. Speaking of which, hasn’t my wallet been pretty open as of late? I tried talking to Capital A. She’s back on GoFundMe, and I tried B III. I was fucking shameless. Boy, I cried. Nope, not out my eyes, and I’m still a monk. I wish I wasn’t. I wish you were here, B. Locked in your room.

Besides you being punished or my private shower time… Oh, let’s not forget the Day Job and doing things to keep us alive. There were no doors between us. Yes, as I said, I went to the occasional movie. This will be my first since the pandemic hit. Another first. Braxton, I keep track of them all. Even if I got you one of those lovely red vests, I doubt you’d keep it together for a movie. When it comes to my life, though, you are always invited. I guess I didn’t know how boring I was. Your Aunt Carolina could come by B. Do you remember when she wasn’t invited until she allowed you to sniff her up? Well, more like feeling her up.

You are your father’s son. No one would think about inviting a perverted would-be psychopath. Fighting Bipolar disorder, Anxiety, Depression, and OCD. A medical degree? I don’t have one. And even if I did, I doubt your grandma would invite me “home.” Oh, and your granddad? B, ain’t enough cash, so I see Capital A’s point. And home, um, oh? The last time I ever thought of home was when I sent you away? Before, it was when I got cut off from the Olds, but I was called to collect you, and we found ourselves here B III ha. Is that my way of once again inviting you back for Christmas? Everyone Says Hi, well me. To live, to love. An Invitation To B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 174 ~B Come Home For~

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I’m glad I wrote this before today; otherwise, it would be all Humiliations Galore. There’s a reason we only see Santa once a year. It keeps him likable. People at the Day Job… I’m even less in the Christmas spirit, so why ask “B Come Home For?”

Wednesday, December 22, 2021

Chronicle 174 ~B Come Home For~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but all the fries, hot dogs, steak, and things Braxton shouldn’t have, won’t bring him back.

Christmas? So before I forget again, I’ve been bringing up what Braxton and I did. Before I discovered Goodreads, or cared to pick a genre. I’d read Christmas Erotica daily. In the AM, of course, B III would sleep. If in the evening, Braxton’s on my legs, he’d nap away. I’d make it to the store at some point and pick him out a small toy. But not Last Christmas. Ok, putting my phone away. Well, we’d stay up watching Official NORAD Tracks Santa. On Christmas morning, we’d go walking, yup. The world was so quiet, Braxton and I ruled. I’d share more than usual, and if I had a present, I’d give it to him, which he would ignore for my pancakes. The usual.

I do things without thinking sometimes. Picking up a box of pancakes on my last store trip. I got bacon and sausage too. This year I even picked out a toy for him. Um, ok, Last Christmas, I said I’d make it up to him for his birthday. It would’ve been B III’s Sweet 16. I keep saying Braxton and I aren’t big on the holidays, but I didn’t get him a gift for 16. Echo, I kept my word on my E-Day, but B III didn’t show up. Or he ate the missing potato. Remember Red Lobster? My Ma’s food was better on Thanksgiving, and still no B III. Inspector is it any wonder I’ve read about other worlds. Besides Christmas, The Rainbow Bridge.

Do you remember Senator Leighton from the movie Iron Jawed Angels? No, I haven’t been watching Christmas movies. I could watch one with Braxton’s Aunt. Bear with me, Echo. So his character is fictional, but do you recall how he took everything from his wife? He took her money, her children, damn near life. Then he expected she’d kowtow easy. If I had been his lawyer, I would have laughed in his face, but now I am that STUPID, Echo. I talked about how offensive I find that song Someday At Christmas. Why at Christmas? I wanted Braxton back the moment he stopped breathing. If he’s on the doorstep tomorrow… well fuck my Day Job. But for Christmas, for me ever. B Come Home For

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-ImCpNqbJw

325 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 173 ~This Christmas Will B~

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My “father” told me I’ve had a “White Christmas” here or there. I’m too old to remember. And a “Blue Christmas” doesn’t seem to cut it. I’m sure B is somewhere barking, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.” If only in my dreams, right? This Christmas Will B

Tuesday, December 21, 2021

Chronicle 173 ~This Christmas Will B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could take Santa’s job. Well, that’s sort of the thing being a Daddy.

Do you think the kids know yet? When I discovered the whole Santa Claus, Jesus, and Olds conspiracy? I was older than I’d like to admit. To be honest, all of 2021, I’ve felt older and younger than I’d like. A boy, crying over B III. A man trying to be “strong?” Uh Nah. I’m sure the kids would be happier not waiting for Santa but for their Daddy to come home. There’s a reason I, well we don’t go “home” for the holidays. My Ma invited me home once, and I asked whether Braxton could come too. She never asked again. Christmas with Braxton. Sometimes it scares me to know how much our kids are like me. To be like you. A Christmas Wish?

Every day Christmas gets closer, I still think about what I want most of all. You know, of course. My friends know, and there is nothing anyone can do. Um, if this was Futurama? I could say I want nothing. With everything, I have, no what we have. What do you give the man that has everything? I wouldn’t be a proper billionaire if I didn’t want more, ha. Then once more, I could ask what you and our kids want? Christmas is supposed to be a time for miracles. Yet to this day, I still live by this. My desires, Impossible, Insane, Illegal. Why do we save it for Christmas? Braxton has been gone 324 Days. Not one passes that I don’t need him.

I’ve had a White Christmas and ones without snow. As the song goes, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” I’m sure our children would say, “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” How about a Christmas without me using Spotify? My Olds had a sound system. Speaking of tradition, I’ll be in here reading my Christmas Erotica alone. Want to come? I’m sure I’ll invite the children to watch Santa’s path on the computer. Pretty awesome. Will you cook up a brunch as my Ma does? Um, I don’t know if she does now, but ok. The thing is, “this Christmas will be a very special Christmas?” It will be different, that’s for sure, but Santa never fails. The postman, Braxton, Love. This Christmas, Will B

324 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 172 ~Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand~

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As the song goes, “I choose me, and I know that’s selfish love.” Not today. The Day Job calls, I won’t be choosing me. I show “loyalty” to my Olds. Otherwise, I’m on the street. My country, oh God, Then there’s my son. “Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand.”

Monday, December 20, 2021

Chronicle 172 ~Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand~

Two-Hundred and Nineteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I’m loyal to the almighty dollar. Negan said, “people are a resource.” King Ezekiel had morals.

For right now, today, hell about 15 years and 323 days, my loyalty is always to Braxton. My longing, my love, my life to my child. How many times have I sobbed since 7:00 am? He’s the reason I’m not out helping the local economy. Did I say “local?” Supercuts is a corporation. Um, I need a haircut, but it’s all, Baby, It’s Cold Outside. Oh, it’s my tears, yup. I’m not sad over my country or frothing at the mouth. At this rate, I want to be all Mr. Clark and say this place deserves what it gets. All I need to do is stay black and die. That’s what I’m doing today. I took a shower, planned on getting out, then boom Christmas.

B’s Aunt didn’t mean it. Madam, it’s a standard question for this time of the year. What do you want for Christmas? I want what I’ve wanted for 323 Days. I want my son back. It’s not like anything would be better with the rest of my life, but I’d have him. B is enough. I believe Cherry was into magic a bit but not Necromancy. So short of my Braxton, there was one of those tripods with the ring light. A laptop desk? Thought I wanted out of bed? Everything I want is to keep me right here. Braxton’s Cuddle Clone, watching over me. Then again, I wouldn’t want him to see me do things I do in life. My “loyalty” lasted 161 Days.

My mourning, mutism, my monkhood. But Madam, when I say always and forever, I mean it. Let Special K or Capital A ask for my help. I’d be there for them. That’s me, all me. Haven’t I talked about this once? I use what I call The Blackjack Scale. 21 means I’d die for you; Braxton was/is the only 21. I can’t go asking his Aunt for bullets now. I’d freak her out. For real, I could use the ammunition with everything. America, America. Loyalty to myself, you ask? Hell Madam, my body demands. I’d say besides my Masochism in my grief. My Sadism. Sprinkle in Hedonism to boot. “No Gods or Kings, only Man” Bioshock. Now Braxton’s loyalty… unquestionable. Loyalty Is Choice, Not Demand.


323 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 171 ~So Smile, B Reasonable~

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Grin and bear it, THEY say. I’m sick of laughing, leaving so many smiles in my mask. Fake smiles. God, I love masks. How about living life this way, alone? I did before then for 15 years I had B. It wasn’t enough, but THEY say. So Smile, B Reasonable

Sunday, December 19, 2021

Chronicle 171 ~So Smile, B Reasonable~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you get to be a lazy ass today. Well, isn’t that most Sundays? The Long Walk?

Besides being a book, you want to read. Only not this month. It’s fucking creepy to be in PetSmart on a Sunday. The day Braxton died. Wednesday, specifically Wednesday, February 10, 2021, is no good for the record. Also, add Thursday, February 4. Reasonable right? Braxton’s death, picking up his remains; when he was cremated. You guess if you’re not going to PetSmart or picking up Braxton’s prints at Walmart. Well, you have time to cry, and it beats dick… Did you come up with that? Better crying than jacking. Anyway, we’ll get to that. So the reason you’re not smiling today is that Saturday was my last chance. I’m sorry I failed you, but you will spend Christmas alone. Oh, there’s Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading The Christmas Nanny by Elizabeth Kelly
    Completed (53 from 52)
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 024 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Failing at these things is only one more tradition. Last night I tried. There’s reading Christmas Erotica while Braxton naps. Watching Santa’s travels, Christmas Eve. Inevitable that I would smile. I mean a genuine smile. I was able to do it without thinking. Much like jacking off, when I smile any day, I feel disgusted after. You will, as well. Um, not the jacking, but there are no guarantees there. Only we’ll get there, dammit. Tis the season of joy, like going to Disney World or saying you love someone. The last time I said those words? Hell, I tried smiling; I don’t remember if I did or not. Jim Kelly said, “I’ll be too busy looking good” with his defeat. Braxton looked angelic. But me failing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Meet Me Under The Mistletoe, Stacey Kennedy
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums (Picture Daily)
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

While you were working on Stuff and Thangs this morning, OnlyFans. Why don’t you show your face? The way you look. Your body is one thing but the mood, moment, moaning. Such pleasures but no smiling, there’s demand, disgust, destruction. Reasonable to smile or not? Take, for example, your work. Again another novel, grin boy. Days you get off from the hellacious Day Job. But with spending dollars and time? Christmas time is here. And all you know is rage. Again your Republican tendencies, dude. But always and forever, there will be Braxton. The pain from losing him and the “happiness” from his life. Happy is still the wrong word. Smiling and happiness are not mutually exclusive. Living Life This Way… So Smile, B Reasonable

322 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 170 ~The Braxton Stops Here~

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Who’s that knocking at my chamber door? Most days, I would instead be knocking at Heaven’s door. All the time, Braxton wanted outside. Then inside and I would look at him through the glass. Now he’ll be in a frame. “The Braxton Stops Here.”

Saturday, December 18, 2021

Chronicle 170 ~The Braxton Stops Here~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I could go looking for aliens or try to find God… ha. Look for Santa?

What would I ask of him? These days Lady Lu, I rather have a good girl sitting on my lap. But okay, let’s start with the obvious. I showed B III’s Aunt what I went shopping for today. Of course, she thought I’d made a new friend, but no. I’m bleeding cash Lu, you see. In case I haven’t said it enough, ahem, Braxton is dead. So I’m buying toys and treats for who? I gave a dollar to the ladies at PetSmart. Is Santa bringing me a Best Friend? Lunalesca, I asked M Anime what she wanted for Christmas, and she said, “Dollar dollar bills, y’all!” I could use the money but quoting another song Lunalesca “Peace of mind.” But B III is here.

You’re right that Braxton brings my serenity. And no, I don’t mean the queen or princess from Sailor Moon. Yes, most of my money goes towards Yabbos, but it wasn’t towards Cherry for the first time in some weeks. Maitland Ward, OfficialMaxine, and other anime. But anyway, Braxton. The lamp was blazing in my eyes come 3:00 in the morning. Yes, I was up late talking to Lady Sophia, but it was more dread. I was out of treats for B III, but he’s gone. They’re all sitting there, and while I said, I was going for framed pictures, sigh. I couldn’t stop myself. Love for my boy, lust for all the Ho, Ho, Ho’s. That’s not nice, I know. I tried teaching Braxton respect…

I can only imagine what he’s learning from me now. It’s not people watching from the great beyond but my son at The Rainbow Bridge. “Daddy laughing at me humping.” “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town,” as they say, but I doubt he’ll stop by. I can’t BBQ, Lady Lu. “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” and even if he was the real deal. I’m going to Hell, ha. I should get on Amazon. To buy a frame for next week, but it won’t get here in time, right? There’s also Braxton’s Aunt, which means I should scrub this place down. It’s real gross. All I want is Braxton to show up, but then he never left? The Rainbow Bridge? The Braxton Stops Here.

321 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

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Blah, blah, blah, all under the guise of the holiday, but that’s still a week away. I should have a new story to tell. My first Christmas without my boy or anyone. The cold bothers me, but Elsa is hot. The worst thing is the silence. B There Dead Air

Friday, December 17, 2021

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means Christmas should be a pretty big holiday for me. When I was a child…

Halloween? A few were spent on the streets of suburbia behind a mask ha. Others I was in a church here or there. Now, wait, aren’t I supposed to be talking about Christmas? Hell, this whole season in my life, this Mad Season, insane, inevitable? Somehow I ain’t Iron Man yet. Well, unless we’re talking about my willy. I swear, Lady Sophia, I need to treat LUST like a fucking zombie virus. If that were the idea, I would be dead now. Don’t threaten me with a good time, hmm? After my Humiliations, Galore, sigh. Is it any surprise that I’m thinking about the past Sophia? There’s the book Hold by Claire Kent. Remembering a song here or there. And now the movie Dead Air.

Thanksgiving that I have so many stories to tell myself because you know my usual. Again today, as the song goes, “work sucks, I know.” Wasn’t I talking about yesterday, the woman and her Christmas card? Now I got a bag from the Day Job. It ain’t a pink slip. I am thankful that I wrote another story this year and got all the badges to boot. Yes, I lied to get them. But what other accomplishments do I have this year? To check New Year’s resolutions. Of course, one of those was to keep my son alive. You didn’t think we would have a whole conversation without me mentioning him. 2021 is the worst year ever. That’s saying a lot, even beating out my Emergence year. No easy feat.

Christmas time, though, and as I’m sure I’ve said. If I stay out of trouble, this will be the first year I’ve ever been alone. B’s Aunt Carolina Bound said she’s coming to town to celebrate with her Dad. That also means she’s coming to see me. Smiling Faces Sometimes. I mean that more about myself than her. How have I kept it together? Impossible! Sophia, this could all be some nightmare, and I’ll wake up. Some nights I’ve believed. Of course, my go-to is that I’m dead, and this is Hell, but I’m breathing as the song goes, “I’m still breathing, I’m alive. Yet, I dream of an apocalypse. So Dead Air, Sophia? My movie night with her, without Braxton… B There Dead Air

320 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

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If I could’ve, I would’ve held my breath forever the moment B took his last. The will to live, yup. It was strong with him, too, if I hadn’t stopped it. That’s the problem. People telling me what I don’t want to hear, but B. Take A Breath Braxton, um

Thursday, December 16, 2021

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

319 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I know it’s late… 6:30 PM but you should look in on your Grandma, B.

It’s her birthday, B III, and you’ll have more of a chance to see her than me. Well, I’m being a selfish asshole, aren’t I? My interactions with her today equate to two beeps. Sending her a text and getting one back. Another reason dogs were given paws, not fingers. Braxton, I can also say this is why you were given barks, not words. I have heard talking dogs. But no matter you were the best B, always and forever. Um, you would make too much goddamn sense if you had words. Pardon my language, Day Job, and well… Humiliations Galore again. So yeah, I stuffed my face and took a nap. But do I want to talk about it, B III? How about no.

Oh, gasp, shocker, relax B. You did what my Olds couldn’t do for years. If I ever talked to them about my day? I wanted to stop breathing. You know what I mean. There was that time I didn’t eat and fell out on the floor, and you went and got them. Keep me breathing. That’s what you did, B III. You kept me breathing even when I didn’t want to. It’s getting harder to do these days. Yeah, without my tunes, I have too much time to think. Hell, for a while, I had an earworm to that song “Fly Me To The Moon.” You liked my singing B. “Now I didn’t say that,” you’d give me that look. Again allow my selfishness B.

If you had one more breath to give, I’d ask you, spend it with me and not your grandma. When I had those arguments in my head at the Day Job, I wanted to say this. “At least when my son makes a noise, he’s helping me out. You can shut the fuck up!” Language, I know B III. I’m sorry. Anger is more useful than despair, I heard somewhere. The lady in Shoes was dicking around with me today. Pitying me by giving me a Christmas card. Worse, she was “proselytizing.” It took me some time to find that word. Anyway, between that and The Christmas Nanny, Tess being all alone. Yeah, B III if you can get here somehow. Take A Breath Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 167 ~Wings, No Bill, Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

I had days off from the Day Job. How did I see to it that they weren’t wasted? I got Astigmatism and the Doc. I could use some new glasses. Well, as long as I can see my son… oh right. Um, I could go blind for “other” things. Wings, No Bill, Braxton

Wednesday, December 15, 2021

Chronicle 167 ~Wings, No Bill, Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I could help so many dogs, but I can’t afford the wings. Not again, Inspector.

Astigmatism isn’t fatal, but there’s a reason I’m not spending $350 to $550 on glasses. Yabbos, I “love” incredible Yabbos. I could feel my way Echo. And always, Spank Bank. There’s the fact that I broke my “streak” yesterday. They say you’ll go blind “jacking.” Inspector, I also know that I’ll never see anything as beautiful as Braxton. No, my friend, all I saw was the $138.00 that my Day Job card won’t pay off. Even when I’m not there, the Day Job results in Humiliations Galore with my declined card. Then I went through the trouble of making a claim. That, of course, will be rejected. There’s also the fact that if I took more from my paycheck, boom, new glasses. Not this year.

I’d joke with B III that he’d become a seeing-eye dog, or I’d be a seeing-eye man. It turned out to be the latter as I carried him and heard B’s vets. “Don’t move anything,” they said when he was still on 4 legs. 318 Days Echo, everything remains. Always Echo. Now I’m planning on buying a frame weekly since only two treats remain. I could go scrounging around in the crumbs again and hope to find a few more, but again my eyes, my eyes. I should check to see if Walmart sells dog frames. NO giving my Day Job cash! Better to be a live chicken with my cowardice in that place than a dead duck. It’s not fair, Inspector. Life’s not fair.

That was pretty much me in the tub yesterday working on Stuff And Thangs for OnlyFans. Hell, one of the reasons I would keep the door open instead of having my private time is B III. Braxton would need me, or he’d rest against my leg if he was sick. Braxton was never one for water. Which is why I took him to the groomers. Being mad at them took a bit of the heat off me since I took him there. He didn’t want to be a duck or an angel. And yet, in trying to stop him from gaining his wings. I murdered Braxton. Dammit, that was dark, and um, books tell me I didn’t. Yet, I’m still alive. Wings, No Bill, Braxton.

318 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 166 ~Heard “See B” Radio~

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What do I do for fun or in my spare time? I’m no billionaire yet, but I’m all for space, particularly Star Wars. I’m still waiting for The Walking Dead but not Madison… wait, what? And finding time to cry out my lost boy, a hobby. Heard “See B” Radio

Tuesday, December 14, 2021

Chronicle 166 ~Heard “See B” Radio~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. This means I have walls dedicated to Star Wars, The Walking Dead, my family, and Braxton.

Of course, B is family, but it was us against the world for the longest time. B III was/is/always all I got. Don’t let my Olds hear me say that, or you. It’s not like I’m going home for Christmas. No, My Love, I am home with you, with our kids, and their hobbies. You know I’m one for thorough research on anything and everything. No wonder this time of the year makes us feel young again. It’s also why I’ll try to get them into things I know a lot about or something I hope will help them along the way in life. Yes, I hope. I thought I wanted our daughter to study a form of Martial Arts the other day. This world.

Do you know that Christmas song Run Rudolph Run? A little baby doll, electric guitar? To this day, I will never forget the actual Hell that was my Old Day Job but not the point. Love, um, if they like a doll or guitar, we’ll make it work, but I want more for them always. I wasn’t trying to sound all “woke.” I’ve been thinking that plenty. You also know I’m not one for politics. If anything, I have a conscience, morals, considering my “business.” You’re also not a Republican, so I can ask you what you want for Christmas. I’m sure you’re thinking you want your husband back. “And how I used to be…me,” as the song goes. When grief wasn’t my full-time hobby.

Books are better, wouldn’t you say? It was last week or so. I finished my 52 books for the year. Is that why I looked up “The Gift of the Magi” by O. Henry today? I can’t give you back the man I was. And I have your love, that of our kids, but there will always B a hole. Ok, so that’s a hobby I should give up, terrible puns of sorts, I guess. How about the music I rely on? Even now, I can’t help hating on the shithole that was my former Day Job. Yeah, all the things I need to give up, at least for the holidays, like swearing. Someday Love. Someone You Loved, you still do? Heard “See B” Radio

317 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will