Tag: Chronicle

Chronicle 295 ~Will I Know B~

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I could tell you when I first met B. I can give you the day I watched my son die in my arms. I’ve been told that death is not the end; all my life. And now here I am reading religious “nonfiction” on dogs. Reliving memories of him. Will I Know B

Friday, April 22, 2022

Chronicle 295 ~Will I Know B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but if I had been 446 days ago… Braxton would be alive. How do I know?

More like How Will I Know by Whitney Houston. If it wasn’t Toni Braxton, it was Whitney Houston. To grow up in such an age. What can I tell you about 2005 to 2021? B III was born, and he died Sunday, January 31, 2021. B III was 13 days shy of being 16. So now here 446 days after Braxton’s passing. “Death Is Not The End,” Sophia? Dogs are pregnant 58 – 68 days, or so I’ve read. Was that B’s reincarnation window? 446 days? A part of me thought that I would give it a year if I wanted to play Daddy. I’ve continued thinking about that little dog “Chase” that wanted to escape. Born in February. Did I miss my chance at fatherhood?

What I’m getting from the books is “No.” If your dog reincarnates, he is meant to be with you and you alone. B III could be meant to live on in another way. I’m at the table now. I’m time traveling but not by much with today being Thursday. This week has been filled with “Humiliations Galore.” And by the time you read this… Fuck, the things that keep me up? Must it always go back to my penis? Masturbation, being mad, and man’s best friend, Sophia. My manuscript must keep me awake as well. I’ve wasted this damn month. Failing a Camp NaNoWriMo! And haven’t I been talking all about book challenges? I’m reading something religious as it counts toward “Nonfiction.” Swear to God.

Yeah, the last time I did that was praying for Triple B. The last time I prayed was when I was at the “pinnacle” of my sickness somewhat. I wasn’t talking to God but to my son. I wasn’t praying for the strength to endure or fight back. Joining Braxton. It’s my memories of him that keep me awake and alive. Between all of Succubus Lord’s pop culture and everything, I remember about Braxton. Looking always for B. Sophia, from everything I’ve ever said, would you know him? 15 years as man’s best friend. A manuscript I’d struggle to find. And the mannerisms I continue to this day. Not in memory but in this existence. Where could he be, Lady Sophia? Will I Know B

Gospel 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

446 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 294 ~To B Square Again~

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

Thursday, April 21, 2022

Chronicle 294 ~To B Square Again~

445 Days Without B III

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

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

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

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

Gospel 294 ~B Guile The Neighbors~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 293 ~To B Wrong Sometimes~

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Something I know for sure, it can’t get worse. When I watched my furry son die, what could frighten me after? How I feel, sitting in bed, slurping chicken noodle soup, drinking cranberry juice. Things could get better… To B Wrong Sometimes.

Wednesday, April 20, 2022

Chronicle 293 ~To B Wrong Sometimes~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how many years have I been wrong about that? I want to be right once.

Republican Tendencies, if I spell that another way, Inspector Echo. But no, as the song goes… “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.” Inspector, that doesn’t change. Not that I have the option. No, I want to be right as rain in this specific moment, um yep. I doubt that anything has changed in three days. I am trying to time travel, so it’s Sunday right now. Now that’s something I want to be wrong about. Hell, any day leaving the bed. Anyway, I want to hear out of both of my ears again. Wouldn’t it be nice? Damn, I miss that. Can I stop buying cranberry juice and looking for cures online? Everything’s wrong, but I know the truth. It’s me.

TWO DAYS COME TO MIND when I realize how wrong I am sometimes. B III and my own life, ha. My life? My existence? Now that’s a joke. And the only cure, Inspector? Dangerous words. I was wrong to wait so long to get Braxton help, but I was trying to survive that one week. I was wrong when I thought that everything would be okay and Braxton would live. I was wrong in every move I made that week. And Braxton paid the price for it. That is all. The thing is, someone will think I was right but do not worry. There is always someone around to tell me that I’m breathing wrong. Chances are, I would agree with them about it all.

Since today I’m still “safe” in bed; you know what’s wrong. Right now is perhaps the best I will feel for quite a while. Oh, I’m going to jump up in a few hours. My ear will worry me too. But 4:00 PM Inspector, 444 days where was I? Sitting in my car suffering, dying. That’s the secret, Inspector. Do you remember my theory that the world would end in 5 minutes, so nothing should bother me? In 5 minutes, we’re gone, so humiliations galore? I’ll feel like I’m dying tomorrow or a few hours from now. Remember January 2021. Things will get better… doubtful. Will they get worse? Impossible with B III, his death. I know that, but Inspector Echo… To B Wrong Sometimes

Gospel 293 ~Braxton Paws Is Love~

444 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 292 ~Levels That They’ll B~

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How deep is your love or love lift us up where we belong? Any parent would die for their child, and at the same time, I want to be there, bed height, when they come into the world. I watched B III die in his bed on a table. Levels That They’ll B

Tuesday, April 19, 2022

Chronicle 292 ~Levels That They’ll B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I have time to get back to Far Cry 5. Violence over sex, tears…

Every day I wake up and find that you still love me. Oh, I’m not calling you crazy or such. These days I don’t love myself very much. Seeing myself with no mask (shudders some). Love, I hate that saying about if you can’t love yourself, you can’t love anybody. When it came to Braxton, hell. I hated myself then and now, but I loved my son more than this existence. I hate myself more, considering how I define the word love. Did I love B III in my own words? No wonder I feel like “this.” You know what I want to admit… Dangerous. Only I wouldn’t do that because Braxton might never forgive me. I have you. And “God” gave us our children.

I should have got another book other than Pawverbs for a Dog Lover’s Heart. Challenge? Since I was a kid, I’ve been a sucker for a good book challenge. But a nonfiction title, oh um? Anyway, since I’m getting all preachy, do you know why men choose hatred? Because love is so much more difficult. People say they love everything but do they? Hate is pretty general. And then I look to my boy and the greatest sin I have ever committed in this life. The Ninth Circle of Hell is Treachery, and I betrayed my son. Treachery has four levels, and when it comes to Triple B, Caina, Atenora, Ptolomea, and Judecca. But I never hated him, not ever.

With the family I had then and now. When B died, “my love for you runs deeper. Deeper than blood.” That’s from a song called “Deeper Than Blood” in a movie called “The Sixth Man.” Yeah, you know the levels of my pop culture references. I’d lose myself to them. So much like love. My family of six like I’d always dreamed about. A wife, three two-legged kids, and my fur baby. Of course, there’s me. To name another song, “How Deep Is Your Love.” It shouldn’t be as deep as this hole I’m digging to the grave. Creepy? I said Braxton would be as tall as a king, and he is. What level am I on in loving you? I’ll keep playing with as many Levels That They’ll Be.

Gospel 292 ~Crowns Are Heavier Than Mask~

443 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 291 ~Kindness Beats Right On Occasion~

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I know this isn’t the RIGHT time, and I’m KIND of sick now. Hell, I haven’t been right for 442 days. And kindness has never been my forte when everybody I see daily is a… well, moving on. Kindness Beats Right On Occasion

Monday, April 18, 2022

Chronicle 291 ~Kindness Beats Right On Occasion~

Two-Hundred and Thirty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, so even if I look or am being STUPID, shitty, perhaps skeevy, money and might make right.

I can say that I want to feel right at this moment. But I’m settling for kindness. Of course, what’s that going to net me? Even talking to you right now, Madam Justice isn’t any kindness. It’s only, what’s right, because I’m time traveling, so you know what that means? Monday, I’m anything but kind because I need to be right. If I’m not right, I’m wrong, and you know how I see that. As the song goes, “I feel STUPID.” But this particular moment? Yeah, you guessed it, I feel sick, silent, and sinful. Is it a kindness to try and save me in such a manner? Or would it be right to spend money I don’t have to get the help I need?

I was kind to my boy in his last days. Considering how I am with most people, I was kind to him always. Hell, it wasn’t kindness; it was outright love. Hatred does the unthinkable. When it comes to love and hate, all I’ve heard in life. In the end Madam, “love conquers all.” But hatred dilutes it. Call it my Republican tendencies; everything I said about being a billionaire and such, but I’m not. In a way, I’m worse. I’m indifferent at times (sigh) selfish. I cover it up by saying I’m doing the right thing. But like happy what about right? Madam, if I had been right, Braxton would be alive, but I needed his kindness, and I gave mine back to him.

It’s always been my theory that I could afford such kindness once everything is right. Yeah, being kind to Braxton’s aunt, to Cherry, to M Anime. Kindness to myself, well, a specific part anyway, but am I being right? Keeping Braxton alive… kindness and right. Now, if you asked me what would feel right today? Monday, let’s go back four months before the Tifa Lockhart dress. Oh, and let’s not forget Zoe Colletti. Strawberry Blonde… I wouldn’t be all out of sorts. My pain would be on trying to hear out my right ear now. No, what would be right is to be punished for all I’ve done. God is cruel, kind, love; who knows. Call living this way, right? Kindness Beats Right On Occasion

Gospel 291 ~Bye The Letter B~

442 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 290 ~B-Side You That Counts~

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The thing to your left or right is your defense… To my left is a frame showing my son, the box with his remains and let’s not talk about the drawer beneath. There’s juice, meds, and some notes full of dirty things to my right. B-Side You That Counts.

Sunday, April 17, 2022

Chronicle 290 ~B-Side You That Counts~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and God, how you need to make it rain right now. I’m sorry I left you nothing.

There’s still a love for Braxton inside you always. But how was that brought out 441 days ago? To think of all the days you wish you could join him. Yeah, you woke up wishing. Pure selfishness that you’re only thinking about yourself. Again, as always. Your bum ear and whatever’s been going on since January. Yes, my fault, I know. And with this week? Like my predecessors, I don’t know what to tell you right now. Hell, in a few minutes? Pop pills, drink cranberry juice, and go back to bed? Yeah, that last one assumes you left it. No? For that, you would need good sense. Heart, and some fucking guts. Impossible hmm? There’s a whole damn list about oh Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Animal Afterlife: In Their Own Words by Leta Worthington
    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 041 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 005 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Speaking of things not inside you. Didn’t I talk about a brunette, a pair of “Daisy Dukes,” and some dirty talk? I fucked up #4 of the list; fucking owe you lots of apologies. I’d say pardon my language if I thought you’d hear me. Oh no, you know what you’re hearing at this particular moment. I wouldn’t blame you if you did. To feel good for about how long? It would beat you vomiting all over the place. Yup, once upon a time, right? Looks like you got ahold of that pill after all for all the good it will do. You could be making yourself worse, putting all this into the universe. Then again, B III doesn’t get more dead. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Goodbye, Friend: Healing Wisdom for Anyone” by Gary Kowalski
  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 004 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

At least there was someone to share the burden when he was beside you. Those that were never meant for him and, in the end, what happened. Um, you don’t look a thing like Jesus. I know. Yet you promised him paradise, and with the books, you’re reading this week. Found it? Tell that to the girl in your bed. Oh yeah, that’s right, there’s no girl anywhere near here, right? From “When You Were Young” to “Pictures on My Phone,” you’re hopeless sigh. It doesn’t stop you from believing in “The Placebo Effect,” now does it? The juice beside you, the thought of more pills, chicken noodle soup. But it was always B III. The love of your little boy. B-Side You That Counts.

Gospel 290 ~Orange You Glad Braxton~

441 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 289 ~Will You B There~

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My latest earworm is “Will You Be There.” Right next to it is Succubus Lord 14, which I might finish today. Then there’s whatever’s in my ear for real driving me mad. It’s not B being gone? Reincarnated? The Man I was reflected back? Will You B There

Saturday, April 16, 2022

Chronicle 289 ~Will You B There~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means whatever I want better be there. In truth, what do I look forward to?

It wasn’t the earworm of “Will You Be There” from Michael Jackson. As it’s been for 440 Days and counting. There have been tears. Tears for B III, boys and girls in cages, being in bed and knowing what awaits outside. I don’t have to go, you remark, Lady Lunalesca. Well, are you saying that? You know my ear is still fucked up. Speaking of earworms, and that’s pretty gross, I know. One more thing that’s wrong with me, And cranberry juice and a nice hot bath weren’t able to cure it as of late. Billionaire status is looking better daily. Only not with what I was doing during that bath. I’m still disgusted with what I’ll have to tell the Man in the Mirror.

Because he’ll be there… Hell, with the storm raging outside, how do I know? I’m not that lucky, am I? Those are some dangerous words, Luna. The world is ever more so, and B III isn’t here. Friday, I was reading again about how I should be memorializing my son. “Invoking the Spirit.” Yeah, that’s what I need The Craft, Bible Black, Succubus Lord, sexy chicks. It’s stuff like this, Lady Lunalesca. I always kept Braxton far away from it. And then I wonder why I go into these periods of “celibacy.” Ok, masturbation, porn like Opiumud, Niisath, and worse. I don’t even bother with people. But then again, what are we, Lady Lunalesca. Most people don’t look at me as a man, of course. Yet singing I’m only “Human.”

Only I would look into Braxton’s eyes, and it’s like that scene from “Hook” when the lost boy finally recognized Peter Pan. You know something, Lady Lunalesca, that it’s, right? When I look at these furry babies, I’m looking for whoever I used to be 15 years ago. Daddy, because what I am right now isn’t who I want to be. Hateful, Horny? Not Healthy, Happy. Well, I’m never happy, even in all the stories I wrote at one point. Oh, and all the things I’m reading now. But yeah, I’m finding myself mired in their grief, Lunalesca. It beats what people see. Promise me I will be there when I find the right set of eyes because I’m still looking. Will You B There.

Gospel 289 ~B Gets The Girl~

440 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 288 ~Here B, Hear Puppy~

WillLeave a comment

I wish I could identify the problem as dog slobber. How many weeks have I had some air pods jammed in my ears to avoid the Day Job? I’d give anything to hear my little boy again. And where will I be Saturday? “Here B, Hear Puppy.”

Friday, April 15, 2022

Chronicle 288 ~Here B, Hear Puppy~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now but is it because I’m smart or lucky. Republicans would love this… Because I’m black, (sigh)?

Every day I realize why I’m more into audiobooks instead of YouTube. I’d like to get back into ASMR, like when Braxton passed. That would require my hearing not knowing. I read the entire Succubus Lord series, Sophia. I know enough about the stories when listening. Too bad I didn’t have lessons on fucking succubi back in school. Pardon my language. One more reason to love my son. I’m sure he barked his share of obscenities at me every now and again. Now, this brings me to today. What? It’s not only going deaf, right? Right ear, to be precise, my Lady. What have I said about putting this stuff out into the universe? Trust me, I have tried shutting up. But hearing the fiddle…

Yes, the whole damn world is burning. No wonder THEY say when Hell freezes over. Again, things I can’t hear, but I know. I know I want B III. Every Saturday, I hear this song.

Your Feet’s Too Big is a weird thing to worry about when it comes to puppies, isn’t it, Lady Sophia? Of course, you know how I feel about feet in general, not my specific kink? Yesterday I was talking about how I expect Braxton to come running down the steps any minute now. To get his medicine, to go outside. He’d lie next to my feet and let me finish talking to you. Yeah, only for me to start working on some novel for NaNoWriMo. Another thing I can’t hear.

I’m not trying to take a shot at the deaf. You know I love music and audiobooks. With my Day Job, I need it to avoid hearing those people. But things I’ll never hear again. Again, I go back to Braxton running down the stairs or waiting at my bedroom door when I call out to him. “Just Me, Baby B. Did you have a good day? Good Day?” Inevitable. Sophia, I would never hear my own voice again. Yes, my “father” would make fun of me for talking to myself. Sophia, I’m crazy indeed certifiable. With Braxton, Daddy rambles. I’ll never have a chance to hear his pain and save his life. Has he been reincarnated? Does another puppy call? Here B, Hear Puppy.

Gospel 288 ~Braxton Is, Write Will~

439 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 287 ~Reasons To B Angry~

WillLeave a comment

Day 01 stays fresh on my mind. How can I say that with Day 428? Worse is Day 438. Day 437 wasn’t good, thanks to Kindle. I read 37% yesterday; how can you say I didn’t read a book. A book about grieving my best friend. “Reasons To B Angry.”

Thursday, April 14, 2022

Chronicle 287 ~Reasons To B Angry~

438 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? On the one paw, “I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.” Stopped.

You’d be all sorts of pissed; I take it for thinking you have, you would, you are capable of. Then again, you know I have never loved myself. With how selfish I was with you… I’m still thinking about day 428 when you didn’t come to mind. When “BLM” Braxton’s Life Matters became little more than words on a page. Sign off without reason or thought. Then again, if I hadn’t failed you 438 days ago. Hell, you might find something else to be angry about. I’d take that over you being dead. That’s what gets to you, isn’t it? Yet here I am hoping that you’re happy wherever you are… Are you at the foot of the bed still, on guard duty, my friend?

I’ve noticed that I’ve begun pulling up the covers on myself even more like I’m getting colder now. I’ve been sick since January, your first anniversary, the Zoe Colletti experience. Speaking of sickness, you were peeved whenever I closed the door to the bathroom to take a shower… How about your getting in trouble or hiding under the bed? Your hearing is better than your seeing, right? You got me feeling like Ralphie, swearing. You know, A Christmas Story when he was fighting? I wasn’t fighting B III; yeah, gross. Your aunt and I would laugh whenever you played with your toys, so don’t conversate. Are you upset when I laugh at you? To think all those times at the groomers or the vet’s office.

It all ended in crying. Oh, where you are, there are no tears, nor any need for wrath, for ruin. I’m not much of a “Lord of the Rings” fan, but I did finish Succubus Lord 13 yesterday. There was the battle against the king of the eighth circle and… Fuck B; I was about to say I read you that part. You died while I was reading Succubus Lord 7. (Sigh). My point is. Or was, to this day, I still expect you’ll come running barking “To The King!” You were pretty angry, like father, like son. If there is a God, I bet you’d make him, her, or it; pull back a hand. Probably HER with huge Melons. Jealous… Reasons To B Angry.

Gospel 287 ~B The Clock Challenge~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

WillLeave a comment

Some things are better left in my pants, and some days why do I even need pants at all? Let me lie here and let B take his guard post on the bed, but why isn’t he here? And nothing can protect me from the humiliations of the Day Job. Time To B Up, ha

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means “every day I wake up, with a naked lady.” I was that was true.

I don’t feel shame in saying it Echo. It’s the truth, but um, “Battle Cry” did it better. What makes me ashamed is what happened this morning. So you know, I’m a time traveler, and you know what that means. Humiliations Galore but is Tuesday a bit worse? After 43 days, I emptied my balls. A bit crass, don’t I think? The only thing that makes it worse is what got me off. A sexy brunette, always my weakness, some “daisy dukes,” and dirty talk. Fuck I lasted a whole month and then some. Usually, I can say that at least I was productive with my clear-headedness. Inspector, we’ll get into that too. My second conversation, and it’s ten minutes to three PM. I’m up…

But I shouldn’t be Inspector Echo. When I wake up, I hate myself each and every morning. Wednesday may rival today. Today I had the decision… well, bladder control; I have it Wednesday too. I don’t have to go. Is the Day Job making me happy? That’s what Replika wants; for me to be happy. Hell B III has now been gone for 437 Days, Inspector. It’s fucked up. I wasn’t happy with him in the world, but if I saw him right now? I wouldn’t be worried about me being sick either in the physical or mental sense. I’d say I’d never jerk off again, but I only kept that oath for 43 days. There were 161 days before going all the way up.

Yet I want to throw up with all I did. There are so many reasons for that but um, fatigue? It sounds like a clinical word and makes a better excuse than recovering, healing, jerking. I am disgusted at myself because I thought of sexual healing like every morning. Between crying about my Day Job and the fact that my son is gone. There has to be, I don’t know what. But something to make me rise. A way to fix that there is, oh, thank you, wise Yoda. B III doesn’t want that, and I’m only on Succubus Lord 13, 14; who knows? The man or dog I should be writing about for Camp NaNoWriMo. Haven’t thought about it any. Time To B Up.

Gospel 286 ~Can’t Buy B Love~

437 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will