Tag: Clock

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

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I could tell the tails of every toy B had, every comfy spot he ever chose, and every name he went by. Yet what I hold most near and dear to me? I should be ashamed. All ten, eight, he died at six pounds… Then there’s my phone! “There B Treasure Here”

Friday, July 8, 2022

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But nothing is worth more than my son Braxton. What’s that Whitney song, You Were Loved?

Dammit, when will I say such things! I’m still time traveling today, Sunday, July 3, 2022. And I care more about sleep than I do my own son? I could be working on my, his, um, our novel today? But of course, if it’s not sleeping I treasure, then it’s my uncanny ability to tell lies. As I said, it is Sunday, which means I have talked to the man in the mirror. Hate that! Because, like in my everyday life, I have to put on a show, keep secrets, and smile. And the song “Smiling Faces Sometimes” sigh. I value Braxton’s but never my own. Inevitably, I’ll keep digging myself deeper into the hole which is my bed. For fuck’s sake, man, stay awake!

And without the porno! I swear, Lady Sophia, I wasted a damn hour trying not to click on anything. I swear, besides my Pancake, there’s my phone, porno, and always and forever my penis. There be treasure? In the closet, that drawer, my fucking head. Apologies for my language, but you wouldn’t like me when I’m just hanging out, horny, or haughty. Yeah, I’m writing or not a National Bestseller. Hell! If we finish our conversation on time, I still won’t write. I’ve been planning forever to complete an outline. There’s also been the promise of having a doctor dig into me and pull out whatever is wrong with me. Did I tell you that story of my ear and how I learned about Bukkake?

I treasure the stories that help me sleep. One more reason I’m listening to Succubus Lord 5 now. There are only so many times I can tell myself about games I have no time to play. Pornos don’t have plots… That’s a damn lie. After I finally honor my son and make good on the spending on that publishing company. Pure Taboo, Second Circle Creations? Until then, I continue wearing the hoodie I carried Triple B in for many years. His room remains a museum of everything. I even thought of getting a black treasure chest, ha. Should I ever try again, a furry kid? B is so heavy as is. And now Fuck! Dropping my heart more than my phone. There B Treasure Here

523 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

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5 years of writing. What do I have to show for it? Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels (B III died during this), and Chronicles. And now it’s the first of the month. On the first day of “Camp NaNoWriMo.” Tomorrow’s a new blog year. Letters Other Than B.

Friday, July 1, 2022

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And yet I’m greedier than Cupiditas. Yes, I’m listening to Succubus Lord yet again. Saving money?

Bills? More like the cost of living. And yes, I said letters other than B. But B III always comes first. Or at least he should have. If he had, I wouldn’t be sitting here writing about him. Hell! I’m not. Today I have to worry about money on top of all the political bullshit. “Time Enough At Last” or not. This morning I figured I would give myself seven and a half hours. Thursday, it was only seven. It doesn’t matter; I’m forever tired. Is it the bed, me being “Down With The Sickness?” No, not COVID, Lady S. I’m a “Lazy Ass” sigh. And there’s so much to do. Braxton was so patient. Another reason to miss him. I tell myself my lies.

“Stuff And Thang.” Because I broke again yesterday working on my OnlyFans. Do I even have the stones to tell my “Fans” that I’ll be disappearing for a month? And of course, you know why that is. You see what day it is? The start of Camp NaNoWriMo. Holy Shit! Numbers Lady Sophia. What do I have to show for my fifth year of blogging? All because of the “Basic Bitch.” These Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels, and Chronicles. I even had to look for a new word today. As of right now, I’m going with Sagas. Um, yeah, that works… Why not one more picture of Triple B and me. I need another quote for Facebook. Does any of it matter, Sophia? I don’t know.

Booking another stay at the dining room table. Or at least I should. But there is so much to do today, I keep saying. “The Will To B III” should be at the top of that list; I know that. Yet what have I been doing for the past few minutes? Ignoring my porn collection? Essential reading I need to do? Who am I to say that? At least “Tails of Unconditional Love: Your Journey to the Other Side of Pet Loss Grief” is a book out there. Inevitable? One more word on repeat. Thinking I will be on a bookshelf someday soon. I’m starting to sound like Cherry. But talking like Todd, wanting… TLC Tits, Lips, and Clits. Need more. Letters Other Than B

Gospel 365 ~A Year B Longing~

516 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 358 ~BEING Sick Of Love~

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Notice I didn’t mention my father. Talk about love being a memory if it were ever there. But what about the things I know I love, my puppy, money in my pocket, amongst other things> Love never dies, THEY say. No wonder “BEING Sick Of Love.”

Friday, June 24, 2022

Chronicle 358 ~BEING Sick Of Love~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so “For The Love Of Money,” I’m “Happy?” Now you know that ain’t true, Lady Sophia.

Hell! Twitter is renowned for making people unhappy. So a few days ago, I was made unhappier… I suppose. Now forgive me because you ain’t Inspector Echo, and I don’t want to sound like that “asshole” that came at the girl. A popular Youtuber’s proposal… This girl I’m a fan of because of The Walking Dead is getting married. So what? What do my feelings in this equation even matter? What about all the other influencers, models, and sex symbols. If anything, Lady Sophia, my story is one of being a horny fanboy and nothing more. Then there’s the promise I always made to B III. “I’ll find you a mother.” If anything, Braxton was my soulmate. So what did I need a woman for?

Oh, that’s right, I love my son, my little B, but then I became indifferent, or so I want to say. But again, I love money. I want to make as many bucks as I can. And like The 1619 Project was talking about… Wealth. The last bit of knowledge that I gleaned yesterday, Sophia. Then again, I’m sitting here in bed because, as Eric Thomas says, I love sleep more than success. That’s for damn sure! Everything in me wants to go back to sleep right now. That’s especially after, as I said, I finished reading The 1619 Project. I love books. But to read all those biography notes and such in it. I know I don’t have to, but… Time for getting blowjobs?

Not really. I’m pretty versatile regarding my porn viewing habits and whacking. Sigh, I was whacking. That’s what I was doing. Well, after I struggled to put together the new weed whacker. Now I’ve defined love for you before, so answer me this. Why do I love the things that I hate so much? The Day Job, cutting the yard; for a dog, I don’t have anymore. Sophia, let’s not forget disease. I’m still sick but don’t want to see a doctor. The fucking dollar bills. “Another” furry kid or finding some girl. Lady Sophia, there is love all around me “to a certain degree.” And I want none of it. The good, the bad, the ugly. I’m done with love. I want to be but BEING Sick Of Love.

Gospel 358 ~Okay, B Father’s Day~

509 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 351 ~B On The Clock~

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Sleep, nature’s call, back to bed, yabbos, a few more minutes gaming, music, YouTube, nap, and then hearing a noise. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I wasted four hours from 4:00 to 8:00. B wouldn’t have ever allowed it. “B On The Clock.”

Friday, June 17, 2022

Chronicle 351 ~B On The Clock~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so am I still waking up at 4:00 AM? How about 3:00? Well, B ain’t here.

Is that why “Every Day Is Exactly The Same,” Sophia. The fact that I feel like an “Every Day Normal Guy 2?” It’s strange wanting to stick to a routine and, at the same time. You know, a phrase like (another day) pisses me off. I’ll never forget such indifference. It’s how B died, after all. The fact that B was always there. And I took that for granted. But I could look to him at the foot of the bed, and it would be a new beginning Sophia. Braxton would begin running all over my face to go walking by seeing the light outside. And when he left, time seemed to stop, but here I am and what now 502 days. And the time…

I wish I could remember a time I wasn’t hurting. Hell! All our conversations are based on a time I was hurt. What four years ago? And what have I learned since then, Sophia? Nada. But we’ll get into that in a bit. Me and my fucking fetish for brunettes. All Yabbos in truth. But if you had seen me earlier. Here’s a hint “American Beauty.” Then again, um, UK. The only way time doesn’t seem so HARD is when I’m sleeping, and you know what I want to say. I wish I could sleep… and I won’t finish that idea. Dangerous Words; written down. Speaking of which, shouldn’t I be working on my novel? Well, B III’s novel, really. Maybe he understands my reluctance.

I hate myself, Lady Sophia. When I miss filling his water bowl. Or calling him down for his medicine sometimes. And here I thought I was lifting him up. “It’s Not Putting Me Down It’s Lifting Me Up,” as the book goes. I didn’t trust Braxton was looking down on me this morning. Sophia, that’s why I was in the drawer this morning reaching for, as the kids say, the gat, heat, strap, whatever. Vey wrong choice of words but, as always, Republican tendencies. Guns! Morning officially started after checking the doors. I heard a noise. Triple B waking me? And I wonder where he is now if he’s already reincarnated and is waiting, Sophia. Inevitably with my luck, it will take god knows how long. B On The Clock

Gospel 351 ~A B Plus Effort~

502 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 287 ~B The Clock Challenge~

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Geez, what time is it? Let me rub the sleep from my eyes, or pollen, fur, doesn’t matter. I’ll never see my boy in this life again. I should probably stop crying with all these traditional books lying around but so little time. B The Clock Challenge.

Gospel 287 ~B The Clock Challenge~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it wouldn’t matter if I had a Rolex or Omega watch. Telling time is hard.

Would you think I would be embarrassed by that? I the time-traveler; I mean, I can do it, but just like driving a stickshift, an automatic and a digital watch is easier. If anything, I could always use a few more hands. Mine are still stained with fur and blood… figuratively. People are sick of me talking about my kid, well, those who know. I’m speaking to you on April 8. Who am I to say what Indian Gone or M Anime thinks by now. My time is split between B, the Day Job, trying to stay awake, and as Taylor Swift sings, Blank Space. Who am I kidding? Braxton is always there. You would think I’d be earlier for the Day Job but B?

There is so much left to do for him, Inspector Echo, and how did I spend my morning. As I said, everything is about him, so I wrote him another letter. How about that tattoo I want of him? There’s a video I wanted to make of him (saddest thing ever). A lone high priest. The Church of Braxton? No, I’m as selfish as I ever was, still seeking my punishment. The ending punctuation in this chapter of my life, or a pot of gold. Why I’m learning about NFT’s? Not really, please, only killing more time, but something did catch my ears about them. For one moment, I wasn’t listening for Braxton. I continue to live by the alarms I set on my phone.

Anyway, Trevor Noah talked about ownership of originals, classics, whatever. That I don’t have B III in my lap, I’ve gotten into physical books even more so. An author I am reading turned me onto them. He talked about another author and these books he did before he passed that got him into a lot of trouble. I’ve read things from writers currently incarnated but these works… Well, one of them is 50 years old, is that old? The books go for hundreds, so yeah, between Braxton and body art, and bunches of artists, give me more books. What do I have to lose? I lost my god, I’m in Hell, and what time is it again to live without Braxton? B The Clock Challenge

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Lesson 025 ~So Time Me Up~

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How much time do you have, you don’t see it, you see the watch face, you hear it in another person’s voice, you feel it dripping from your brow and you know that it’s always running out. “So Time Me Up”, no wonder we can never let go.

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Lesson 025 ~So Time Me Up~

Hey Lady Lu,
I so wanted to name this something different but it’s these times we live in, or how about the fact that no one has any time for the likes of us? However, and I know I often repeat myself, that’s what lessons are for right, anyway I hate being late and today I am running behind schedule.

Now aren’t I always running behind, that’s why I try to be early for everything or is that just my anxiety talking? In most horror movies isn’t the best place to be, somewhere in the middle but speaking of other racially insensitive things we’re not allowed to say anymore… I guess in some messed up thought I am thinking about the future past those traditional five minutes dreaming that the world is going to end and that I feel fine.

I feel fine, isn’t that another coping mechanism, remember the good times because you know the bad times are coming, and even worse times. I’d said something about selective memory but nowadays I just go ahead and imagine the worst case scenario and regardless of the truth I’ll probably see it that way a thousand times even after the fact. Waiting is always the hardest part, isn’t that what they say, except when you’re procrastinating and that’s what today has been all about, being honest.

In this world where so much doesn’t truly exist, the value of money, those in power, “gluten” why do we choose to be slaves to the concept of time. As a black man living in America, I can’t say I have much to waste, not trying to get all political or again being somewhat insensitive.

You can thank “Saints Row 4” but out of any super power we could hope to possess, time travel is not one meant for us, it just never turns out well. Then again if we knew of beasts such as “The Langoliers” it would be a reminder to always look ahead and time travel itself would be a thing of the past, to be sure.

I think of all the things I would like to make right or do differently so of course, the first thing would be where would I stop my corrections? Give America a time machine and you would stop the building of the nation if you truly were on the side of right or at least that’s what I think. Maybe I’m just in a movie mindset because what about “The Butterfly Effect” think how much damage you could do to others and think about what you stand to lose completely.

There’s not such a thing yet but imagine if we found there was nothing to go back to, we’re in a constant race to outrun them, langoliers, that would explain why we’re always told to never look back, why in this life we are constantly on the move. Scary to think I might be as bad as “Craig Toomy” running from his past and knowing what the future held, maybe I should call my anxiety a langolier. Talk about the ultimate restart when the survivors were the first people in a world that were yet to be born, maybe then I wouldn’t feel like I am always so behind everyone.

To be first in some things, the middle in others, and most days I hope the future will be that apocalyptic dystopia I’m always dreaming about as if I were a prophet. No Luna, if I were a prophet then what happened today, wouldn’t have happened, did I mention how late it was getting today?

Aren’t we constantly trying to better ourselves or at least I want to be but what was I today, a monster I thought I was trying to lose? To others, I’m tied to the role that either I portray or that they believe me to be and I don’t see how I will change it.

You know I’ve been dealing with Braxton and the tick and today, he and I both lost our minds, please don’t let me become my father and he was just that scared puppy I use to know. Now he’s locked in his room after I literally tore the bed down getting to him because I was just so angry at him and everything else. Isn’t that one more thing about waiting especially with anger, yet another reason I just keep moving or I try to sleep all the time, not that any of that helped.

It scares me to think of how he looks at me now, will I be stuck in that moment, him barking up a storm in the bath with me yelling no, what about when he saw his safe haven falling apart, under the bed. What about the way the people at work see me, I will always be stuck in such a version of reality no matter what I do, time stands still? How about how “Indiana” sees me, I’ll tell you this, that woman has a strange opinion about me indeed, not that I’m interested in changing it though.

Anyway, Indiana probably is expecting me to take her to the movies tonight and you know how I am with the movies so I better hurry up. I’ll do better next time, a next time, yeah this conversation isn’t over but for now, I’m gone Luna, So Time Me Up.