Tag: Chronicle

Chronicle 065 ~B A Little Happy~

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I had little to no control over these ramblings, or so it feels that way. How do I feel today? Going to PetSmart today. Lunch with my bestie, my homegirl… is there a manly way to say that. What little cash for food and “Emergence.” “B A Little Happy”

Saturday, September 4, 2021

Chronicle 065 ~B A Little Happy~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now; because is anyone a trillionaire? Do I need my expectations any higher? I’m not a Dad.

At least not anymore in the dog realm. Nowhere near the TRADITIONAL sense. But as has become my “New Normal,” I’ll stop by PetSmart today, then visit my second BFF. Lady Lu, I don’t mean to sound so down, and it’s only 7:45 AM. So yeah, I’m late as is. Feeling like The Priest from Romeo & Juliet “There art thou happy.” Don’t I need to go back and look up my most hated words? I’m sure Happy was on the list. When B lived? Was I happy, you ask? Hell Lady Lu, anything was better than this. For the past few days, I’ve been biting my tongue. Yesterday I finished the novel “Tampa” by Alissa Nutting. Writers aren’t meant to do as I am.

I mean to mince words for a small mind. Alissa didn’t, but every day I try to move a little bit faster. I make myself out to be smaller. And what, am I ashamed of all that I am? Lady Luna, you have seen what is becoming of this place. On Friday, I even tipped an OnlyFans creator to get my “Stuff And Thangs” promoted and expanded. A “Shower Cam,” yeah. Making money makes me happy? If it did, wouldn’t I feel something for the Day Job? Yet again, I left a note in an attempt to get out of a shift. Preparations for Emergence trouble. The second worse day of my life next to Sunday, January 31, 2021. On the 30th, I watched Braxton.

He wasn’t my happiness. How dare I, right? Nobody can make you happy, but you THEY say. Calm, Peace, Love, that was B III. I still hate the phrase “Live, Laugh, Love,” but to say B? The tiniest thing, and that’s the essence of man, I say. Fatherhood to Manhood. Titans gave creation to Gods. Those Gods made Men. Men sought power over everything, not knowing we gave our hearts to those we sought to own. Dogs? Conan The Barbarian? That’s one of the little things, Lu. At the Day Job, the first thing I would listen to is Braxton’s playlist. Now it’s TBR Schmitt’s reaction to Conan. I’m not happy. In fact, in this “Mad Season,” I feel STUPID. To B A Little Happy?

216 Days Without B III

Chronicle 064 ~History of B Longing~

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Last week I called myself a writer, and that’s without taking a writing class. Most think of me as a Sci-Fi Nerd, Geek, Freak, watch it, but that explains my Second BFF. She has a thing for nerds, whatever. History um, Jan 31. “History of B Longing.”

Friday, September 3, 2021

Chronicle 064 ~History of B Longing~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but this doesn’t allow me to change history. No matter how much I seek erasure, forgiveness.

It’s days like these… what Thursday, Time Travel? When I was young, I loved SCIENCE. Again Time Travel, wanting to raise the dead, and Hell if I die, I want my ashes to become a virus. Everything to be with B sigh, perhaps our ashes would mingle, hating people ha. Of course, Science involves plenty of Math. Well, I’ve spent this afternoon looking at how much money I’ve lost and for what. Writing, we’ll get to that. How about anatomy? If my “Stuff And Thangs” is any sign. Today I did write out my dream. The Science of it, okay. As close to the subject as I’ll ever get again. Sci-Fi references and defending never having another furry life in my hands. Never again, Sophia.

Because I’ve spent 215 days WRITING about the son I lost. I don’t believe I have ever taken a Writing class before; junior college? Of course, you’re saying that’s quite obvious with how I can never stay on subject. You could also look to yourself and the girls; now B. Baby Braxton always wanted more time with me, a man of few words he was. Only I gave myself over to them. I’ve been down here since 8 AM, and talking to you will account for 2000. I haven’t even left my seat. I should, I’m sure English teachers would approve. What about my next novel for the Big Show? NaNoWriMo in November. Am I hoping to cheat? Remember French?

Yet when I was in school, my subject was HISTORY. As you know, I feel some kinda way about my father, but he was ready to fight a History teacher for me. Calling me Professor. I don’t forget that my son is dead. How many times will I say it, Lady Sophia? Have I mentioned somebody else is sick of me talking about it? Oh, and lunch with B’s Aunt. Emergence Day is coming up fast, and what do I do before each one? CLEAN. I never took a Home Ec. course, and why would I decide to start tidying up? This was B’s home. It’s never another day, Lady Sophia. Each is brand new, trying to find a way to live without him. My lessons, History of B Longing.

215 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 063 ~B Selfish And Others~

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I didn’t eat dinner last night thanks to Burger King, eww. T.M.I., but at least B wasn’t here to suffer with me as I didn’t get any fries. Not that I needed them. Now an Emergence Day meal, I was selfish to the both of us 2020. “B Selfish And Others”

Thursday, September 2, 2021

Chronicle 063 ~B Selfish And Others~

214 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I would tell you about yesterday, but I’m trying to avoid institutions. And for today?

You are a selfish little S.O.B., you know that. Before you think I’m angry like I almost was with your Aunt Carolina Bound, for no apparent reason. “You & Me” always and forever, like Father, like Son. So you being selfish was learned from me. You are B. Every single day you remain the first thought. Whether the Day Job or waking late. I’m pissed at myself about yesterday, but it serves me right because of forgetting your fries… I was even reminded of your birthday, your Sweet Sixteen, and wanting to go crazy. Selfish to think there would be more time, and you always wanted more of mine. And sitting here at the dining room table thinking if I had kept my promises B.

Didn’t I give those out by the truckload but actually executing them. Bad choice of words but B III, yesterday I went to Burger King thinking I would have enough for some days. STOLE my money, got a STOMACHACHE, “dude,” you’d SAY, “where’s my fries.” Trust me, you didn’t miss anything and with what I did to you? 214 Days B III, and I continue to feel pain. Only like Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting when he says, “My wife is dead.” I say, my son is dead; nothing beats that pain B. You’re gone, B III, I know. Everyone else knows too. A “friend” is sick of me talking about you. I’ll see your Aunt Saturday. M Anime says, bless your little soul.

What about mine, B? It’s getting around the time of “Emergence,” and I don’t have you to smother me. If my body is wracked in pain or lazy, what about my heart. My betrayal B. Saturday, I’ll be headed to PetSmart to pet the fur babies and then lunch with your Aunt and her hubby. A shared meal and there will be nothing for you. My Emergence Day meal B? How about my wish list? Your grandparents aren’t crazy enough to do some things. That dream I had a week or so ago meant I can’t be a dad. A Cuddle Clone, Stuff & Thangs? Fuck, I want my best friend back… you B III. Dance On Our Graves such selfishness. B Selfish And Others.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 062 ~B As In Building~

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The things that September brings to mind. Buildings, birthdays, my B, but to be honest, B is daily. I’ll have to write him another book, not like I ever published the first one. The things I’m trying to build in my country but then… B As In Building

Wednesday, September 1, 2021

Chronicle 062 ~B As In Building~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that doesn’t take an A student or B. What about C. Who am I kidding.

But grades are a thing of the past for me. Why am I even talking about me now, Echo? You know I hate that concept of somebody having it worse than you. When I was 17, what did I have to be worried about? The more things change, the more they stay the same. Inspector Echo, it’s the 1st of the month, and unlike all the others, where do I begin, my dear? Birthdays, Buildings, Braxton’s dinner. Which would be my dinner, but B III is my boy. Inspector, in particular, I need him for one day out of 365 because he would never say those dreaded words. Hell, I shouldn’t even be telling on myself, but I’ve been building today, my dear Inspector Echo.

No, I don’t mean at the Day Job, and yes, I’m ashamed that I’ve wasted ten years of my life. Today is Sunday, August 29, 2021. Welcome To The Suck. Again I shouldn’t be speaking like some soldier. Such were the events that took place in the U.S.A. this month. Inspector, if I want to be a more horrible human being and American, how about this? While I’m proud to be an American and God Bless The U.S.A., you know I’ll have to say something to Lady Lu. But when I compare the 11th to January 31st, what’s worst? Should I stick to today, which is Sunday? As I told the Man In The Mirror, I found more energy for “Stuff And Thangs” this afternoon.

I don’t know what I’m trying to build, which of course, is so wonderful (sarcasm). Inspector, if anything, now is the time to once again take stock and building a life. One more time letting the cat out of the bag. Inspector, I’ll be 37 shortly and what is there. These days are filled with hoping I have enough for an Emergence Day meal next week. I did take time off from the Day Job, which might be why this week must suck. What about a list for “Stuff And Thangs” on Amazon, but who knows with my current building? How far am I behind reading my latest book and betraying my son? I could write another novel for B III. B As In Building

213 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 061 ~B Losing Some Lovin’~

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How many times have I lost love, my heartbroken? I thought I loved many a girl, but um… My Olds, way too much to unpack. I write every day but is it, love. Not like I had for B III. 212 Days, and with my love with no place to go B Losing Some Lovin’.

Tuesday, August 31, 2021

Chronicle 061 ~B Losing Some Lovin’~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would give it all up to save B III. What do you want, God?

Should I have asked that instead of, um, please save my son? Is that why “He’s My Son” strikes me, you know? Mark Schultz sings to let him take his son’s place. For my son to have more love, take my life if needed. Robbing B of that, may God’s love be with you always. Hell, most days, I don’t believe in God, and if we’re going to get all religious? I don’t want to go all-in on my Olds either. Mother is God in the eyes of a child, or why I don’t fear the father of lies, aka Satan. I got my Old Man for that. For the love of money, a child. I hope I need neither by now, their love, money.

Ok, that sounds harsh, and I don’t mean death, mind you. What I mean is, if you asked me how many times I’ve said the words “I Love You?” How many times I’ve fallen in “Love?” What do those three little words mean to me? Fatherhood, Manhood, the boy in the hood? Before everything, there was writing. Even now, I’m thinking about the dream I had Sat. There was Braxton. I felt a woman was what was needed to know love. Somehow. Yes, I met you, a miracle. Baby, you chose me. We have a family. I love you and our kids. Always and forever, never forget that. It’s not a lack of love; it’s the fear of it. My Olds wouldn’t say I lost their love, I don’t think.

The thing is, I don’t feel it except the bills, and yep that idea would cost me. I have billions? You know I’ve never been good with the idea that you won’t just wake up one morning and be gone. But if you ever say, “Hey Stupid, I Love You.” I can’t stand that song. Neutron Star Collision, that’s how I love. “’Cause our love could be forever” that’s better. Love is forever. So I guess when I think of losing love… well didn’t I say love is like the sun? And I don’t know if I’m seeing an ice age or The Midnight Sun from The Twilight Zone. No matter its time, I’m losing, and God ain’t giving it back. B Losing Some Lovin’.

212 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 060 ~Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations~

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This should be a longer, like B’s life. At least I’ll say it. I don’t ask for the young to die so I can make some sort of statement. To think there was a time in my life I wanted to be the Secretary of Defense. Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations.

Monday, August 30, 2021

Chronicle 060 ~Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations~

Two-Hundred And Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I wish I had done it sooner. Tomorrow would be good.

Tomorrow as today is Thursday, August 26, 2021. More Time Travel. Now would be a decent time to bring up Rule Number Two, “You Are Not A Caveman.” Only today’s rule is so damn usual in a world of kids dying so old white men can allow plagues, own guns. Hell, I want to be a daddy someday; I was to Braxton. The odds of B III outliving me? All I know is he should have lived longer. That is my failure and my disgrace. Thus my shame. I don’t bury children lightly, not like the men and women I see every day on TV. I don’t want to get all political, Madam; I want to be real, but manhood’s purpose is family. That’s a man to me. Be that.

I’m a man, as Nicolas D. Wolfwood put it. With the loss of my child, yeah, I said it. Braxton, “He’s My Son.” With his death, I’m not like… Do you remember Hurricane Katrina? Black people lost their homes, and then they were made out to be refugees? Politics Madam. Anyway, I was never meant to make it this far. I’m about to be thirty-seven and with what I’ve done. Years of suicide attempts, not now. The lot of them I tried to hurt my father. It’s not like he would have cared, but maybe Madam maybe, shock, humiliation, failure. There was no shame when Braxton left me, for he fought with everything he had. He wanted to live. I didn’t, like father like son.

My father lives with his shame of a son, and that’s the thing, ain’t it? I live. I would have gladly died instead of my son. I was always worried about leaving B III alone. I talked to B III today (again Thursday), and I had an epiphany about why I’m still eating. Because no one will ever say he died because of his dog. How hard is it for anyone to understand this from Denzel Washington in John Q

“I AM NOT GOING TO BURY MY SON! MY SON IS GOING TO BURY ME!”

People, no, politicians have no shame. The young and the old don’t die for your power. For 211 Days, I would die for love. Others? Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations

An old man dies. A little dog lives. A fair trade. I love you, Braxton

211 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 059 ~Ten Year Worker B~

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I regret the ten years of my Day Job, the nearly thirty-seven of my life. The 210 days of being without my son. Only I will always love the 7,884,000 minutes I had with him, Seasons of Love. Yet how can I complain about being sigh A Ten Year Worker B

Sunday, August 29, 2021

Chronicle 059 ~Ten Year Worker B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and here you are, still complaining. You put up with the Day Job. Braxton’s life was you.

No wonder, what was it? Only last night, I felt a renewed energy for “Stuff and Thangs.” You’ve been continuing that this morning since you didn’t wake up on time. Or is it the fact that this week is going to suck? Welcome To The Suck. Stop using soldiers’ lexicon? You can’t help yourself with everything going on in the world nowadays, the U.S.A. dude. Yet THEY wonder why you put your earphones in every day. E-Day, earbuds, you think? On the subject of Emergence Day, how about more books from Audible, hmm? My dude? Anything to avoid listening to me, and I don’t blame you. Life is the hardest job there is. The Day Job is the second. Yet being a Daddy… the greatest. It’s not Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, The Theta Timeline (Novel)
    Completed
  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 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of Braxton
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Only you’re not anymore, and yesterday I talked about that dream as to why not. Do you think that you’ll write it down before you forget it all? My Bad, I was talking to Dear Future Wife. That’s on top of betraying Braxton. Do you think that you’ll fare better? Okay, you have the Six Impossible Things to tell you what you’re not going to do. I’m not the man for advice. I’m sorry, but while you’re busy effing up any plans for this week, you know what you must prepare for, right? Good Night, Good Luck. Are You Ready?
Doubtful, I know, but yes more Dystopian and Time Travel, Dying Light, and The One. And these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Tampa by Alissa Nutting
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  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 Get Ready For My Thirty-Seventh Emergence Day
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

The things you choose to remember and forget. Not this week but the next, may your Olds forget about you. How about Carolina Bound and M Anime. Carolina Bound knows you, and M Anime doesn’t know the correct day, which is pretty good. Emergence Dinner. Never had a last one with B III because there was always more time. And there was his sweet sixteen coming up. Next week will be the first without B III. What will you tell your replacement? B III can never be replaced, but should you become a better man. Jesus, a man that doesn’t regret ten years of the Day Job, thirty-seven of life. You’re still crying over fifteen years, 7,884,000 Seasons of Love. Not Ten Year Worker B.

210 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 058 ~Braxton’s Vigil, My Virgil~

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Am I going to have to write this whole dream out (yeah)? Well, if another fur baby came walking into my life, I have names. A boy “Virgil,” a girl “Beatrice,” which isn’t fair at all. Neither is waking up at 1:30 in the AM. Braxton’s Vigil, My Virgil

Saturday, August 28, 2021

Chronicle 058 ~Braxton’s Vigil, My Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but yesterday, “a day which will live in infamy.” I found I wasted ten damn years.

No disrespect to soldiers or even Sci-Fi as I was telling Carolina Bound and M Anime. My Day Job is a mix between going to Nam and being dropped into The Tomorrow War. Add to that being trapped and drowning. How do I survive? I had a son, my Braxton. Friday, August 27, 2021, hell Luna. I had B longer than I have been working in well, Hell. Then I wonder why I’m not running as fast home or to my writing. Hell is what I deserve. I believe that’s why I had that nightmare, but we’ll get to that. The Day Job, my God. Every time I go in the name of the game is this, don’t get fired. When Hell freezes over, right?

I thought I was dead last night. Some time ago, talking to Carolina Bound, I asked did she ever have a dream that she knew was a dream. With my own visions, it happened again. I found I was surrounded by people, so I unleashed black tendrils that were electrified. Them my sister was behind me, looking over my shoulder while I was looking at porn. You know the type. What I pay for, get creators kicked off platforms, foreign influences, etc. Next um, a phone rang, it wasn’t mine, ok Lu. At 1:30 AM, I’m “strapped,” as kids say. I’m stalking around the house, listening for the sound. Usually, this is Braxton’s job. If it’s “serious” again, I get my “gat.” Protecting us always.

So I fall back asleep, trying to dream of the guns in Far Cry 5. The monster gets in the house anyway (dreaming), and it’s my father carrying a dog made out of jelly beans. He looks like Braxton only, color coated, and I see B III on the floor. So the candy dog’s new. As I pull off jelly beans, there’s a furry dog underneath, orange, but the fur begins turning Braxton’s shade. Days go by, the dog becomes more and more like B but begins to shrink too. Like destroying/taking the Mind Stone from Vision, Wanda, or Thanos? Braxton is gone. If the dream and/or nightmare says anything, another dog, no, I can’t. But it’s Saturday. Petsmart then groceries? Braxton’s Vigil, My Virgil.

209 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 057 ~An Interesting Story B~

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I call myself a writer. Most days, I wear some bit of NaNoWriMo gear. What does it mean to be a writer? My confession of a crime from 208 days ago. Getting grilled by some guy for a car accident. My excuses and Day Job hate. “An Interesting Story B.”

Friday, August 27, 2021

Chronicle 057 ~An Interesting Story B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and how did I accomplish such.

“A good question – for another time.” ― Maz Kanata

Why not now? Lady Sophia, I was about to say that I’m sick of stories. By today I should be finishing The Theta Timeline by Chris Dietzel. I don’t hate it. Sure I hate the fact that there are no more stories on the Great De-evolution. I hate the tale of my son being dead. There have only been two novels in my whole thirty-six years of life (remember that), I’ve stopped reading. The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins (I believe). There’s also the “classic” Lord of the Flies by William Golding. Yeah, there’s the Bible, but that’s a whole collection. Why am I mentioning books besides it’s Friday? Well, Wednesday, August 25, 2021, for real. A Time Traveler, that’s me. Why can’t time just stop?

Today’s been hard, and Braxton isn’t here to “Listen to my story.” Cherry’s pretty pissed. Yeah, I’m wasting time on Twitter instead of focusing on the Ninth. Yes, I’m going to the Ninth Circle of Hell, but I’m mean more of the day. Car accident and a fucked up phone call. Then there’s the fact of missing the 85% completion for price changes that a supervisor told me about. How about all the humiliations from the kiosk to other customers? I’m still trying to forget about that movie I saw, “Soulmates,” which makes me a real asshole. Nobody wants to listen to the other stories I want to discuss, or they’re on the news nightly. I did mention Chris Dietzel. Where is my time machine?

I would be a selfish prick, but can you blame me? How To Save A Life, I’d save B III. Sophia, you see what day we’re moving closer to. I’d become a Terminator: First Breath. I love my mom and feel a way about my father. Ha, I need only stop myself existing um yep. How often have I said I need to watch my mouth in case people take a sec or two? I’m not complaining like Cherry. Her writing has promise, like the girls on Onlyfans, have Yabbos. Story of my life, and you know I don’t even go back and read my own work. It’s why I’m constantly repeating myself. And when Braxton tried to tell me stories… An Interesting Story B.

208 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 056 ~Hunger Of B’ing Well~

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Shut your pie hole, or to that effect. The things I would say to my boy when he barked about the neighbors, I’m not sharing, when I had to go to the Day Job. All I do is talk about B and eat French fries. Am I empty or full? Hunger Of B’ing Well

Thursday, August 26, 2021

Chronicle 056 ~Hunger Of B’ing Well~

207 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Apparently, you didn’t Thursday, January 28, 2021, and that’s when I noticed. You weren’t eating.

Like father, like son, things weren’t right. Here I am after 207 days, and I continue to ask what “it” was. The food, the water, what is it that Mcdonald’s sells that I can’t get enough of. Monday and Tuesday, I felt so bad, but I still ate it. A time to starve, hmm Braxton. With you B III, when your stomach was empty, you were still so full of love, light, and life. Now, what did I have them give you in return? I did ask, was there anything that could make your condition worse. If you weren’t suffering, then there would be drugs. Braxton, I would have let you stuff your face. You would have had all your favorites. Your sickness was physical.

Like father, like son, my Old Man didn’t understand me either. Who’s The Better Killer? This is the one time I wish I hadn’t won. Then again, who says I did? I believe taking a life is horrible, and other than some bug… B, your life was the first. That’s ironic, the one I love. To take someone’s body is another, and since I’ve talked to Lady Sophia already. Well, we don’t have to talk about a majority of my novels and the horrors done to women. Anyway, my point is, the destruction of the soul is the worse crime imaginable. Did I do that? Braxton, I am no Steve Urkle. Way before your time. Plus, I don’t want to be funny or to laugh.

Like father, like son, we were both super serious unless your aunt was around. She was the first reason I ever saw you stop eating. Again, not trying to laugh. Carolina Bound made you a cake and shared so much you had met your match. It took you days, Braxton. I’ve gone for about a week without eating. I don’t mean now. But when I got into it with my Old Man, with the Day Job. The day you left, I didn’t have a chance, so many people checking to make sure I was eating. B, you know I can’t stand liars or any stupidity. This leads me to this week, full of rage, regret, this raving lunatic’s stupidity. Full, empty, Hunger Of B’ing Well.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad