Tag: Daddy

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

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I’ve breathed in worse than the Day Job bathroom. The germs of 99.9 of people I know. B’s aunt is an exception. Mourning her family’s loss of their beloved Dobby. Sometimes I wish I could stop altogether, but B’s favorite game. Breathe In, B Out

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, I always say. Today (Sunday), ahem, when it rains, it pours. My condolences to Carolina’s, Dobby.

I know, I’ve talked about “The Long Walk” before. Not the book so much as the concept. Sorry, Stephen King. Sorry, Aunt Carolina. How about sorry to the veterinarians? B? Should I include you as well, Echo? As I’m sure, I’ve told this story. Hmm. We’ll work up to B III. I don’t know how old I was, but it was on an Emergence Day. In the cartoon Beetlejuice, there’s this character that goes, “What in tarhooties?” Only I said, “What in the Hell?” Next thing I know, I’m being pulled outside, but what was the worst part, Inspector? Breathe in, breathe out, and what? It damn sure ain’t living. I haven’t lived for… since losing Braxton; 353 Days when you see this Inspector Echo.

The death of a child. Honest Echo, I should have died with that Emergence, Inspector. Every day, stepping into school and it’s what I wish. I’m no killer. Somehow inevitable. Only the one I killed was in this house. B III called it his home. I’m worse than my Olds. And forgive my Republican tendencies once again, but going out is like a Death March. You know how I talk about the restrooms at the Day Job and how I can’t breathe in the stench. The whole damn place is like that. I can’t breathe, and then I beg to get out. Then, of course, I whine about being let back in. One of Braxton’s favorite games. The look on his face before the diagnosis.

Breathe in, breathe out. I know B was doing this. Because as I’ve been reading and as the song goes. Listen To Your Heart. Braxton told me, “Daddy, let’s go home.” If anything, I speak fluent Braxton. If I had only listened before, but no. Always breathe in, breathe out. It was my life, put one fucking foot in front of the other for those bastards at the Day Job. We were struggling to breathe but sitting together, laying together. The air up there B? Is it better, not as you need it. I don’t know how I keep doing it. I was a zombie. And no matter the horrors slurred, spitted, are shat I walk, I breathe. I killed Braxton. Breathe In, B Out.

Gospel 202 ~Sell You On Will~

353 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 201 ~A Paw From B~

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Let’s hear it for the boy; let’s give that boy a hand. I didn’t do that enough when B was alive and when it mattered, with these hands, yeah with these hands. I don’t need applause, as all he clapping in the world won’t bring him back. “A Paw From B”

Tuesday, January 18, 2022

Chronicle 201 ~A Paw From B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how did I do it. As the song goes, “with these hands, with these hands.”

It’s what I want to sing; it’s what I want to believe. I see hands clasped together praying. THEY say it’s in God’s hands. Into thy hands, I commit my spirit. Getting out of hand. You know I could go on like this for a while. And could go with touching you, my love, um. Is, always and forever outside of the realm of possibility? I wouldn’t blame Jesus, love. Believer? I continue to go back and forth. Yet I ask where his hand in all of this was, hmm? If I don’t give him, her, or It any of the blame, I’m not handing out credit either. But you? Baby girl, how long has it been since I asked for your hand? Just kidding.

A husband is in dangerous territory, not knowing that. The fact is I asked, and you gave. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t reached out and found you. And with our hands, together, you and I created… God, I count ten little fingers and ten little toes.

For the second time in my life, the third, fourth, even more. Feet don’t freak me out. Darling the first? Yeah, the first had me on the ground feeling the pavement and counting ten seconds. I had to make sure it was safe for my firstborn to walk. Again, while I go back and forth. The first had my hands clasped together, me on my knees praying. My hands couldn’t save Braxton. But his paws?

“Pa, father, Daddy, wake up,” B would say by stepping all over my head. And you wonder why when I take the kids to see the fur babies, my big concern is paws and nails. Pausing my life to know before you and them when there was no hand to hold. How they say, I found a paw Gospel 201 Legs, Breasts, There’s Always Chicken. B and me until the? Paws stopped moving; my Braxton left this world 352 Days ago. I look to my hands that signed the papers. My tears have surpassed all those days. Even last night, they found me I need that. Yet you say I Want To Hold Your Hand. I love you. Taught because of, A Paw From B

Gospel 201 ~Legs, Breasts, There’s Always Chicken~

352 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 200 ~The Heart Begs, Body Dictates~

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A great man said, “Steel isn’t strong, boy. Flesh is stronger!” He also said, “Look at the strength in your body, the desire in your heart. I gave you this!” What I was capable of for my son. Now he’s dead, and I live. “The Heart Begs, Body Dictates”

Monday, January 17, 2022

Chronicle 200 ~The Heart Begs, Body Dictates~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means there is nothing I cannot buy. What about Braxton back?

Time? The time I wasted this afternoon. I’m Time Travelling. Guess what day it is? Wednesday Madam. I was telling one of the other girls, Lady Sophia, I believe. Anyway, B would have been thrilled by today’s events. The Day Job makes me glad… leaving. Madam, I am trying to imagine how he would be. How Braxton would jump everywhere. His heart Madam, whether it was joy at my return. His comfort. Braxton’s body was failing. That’s what I remember, him walking to his water bowl because he didn’t want me to freak out. Braxton always had to be strong, and when he wasn’t… I pretended not to notice. Let me carry him downstairs, or he would bump into things from time to time. He lived; I didn’t freak out.

Speaking of bumping and freaking, how did I spend this good Wednesday given to me? The heart wants the pendant I bought for Braxton. I want to build a damn shrine come the 31st. I should have it by now. I’ve been counting up the dollars. Oh, and not working. Head wise, my belly is asking why I am starving myself? No, this isn’t a cry for help. I got thirty bucks in my wallet. I’m not counting carbs; I’m counting rations and next payday. But my body, Hell, I would starve if I could get my hands on a few new tools for my Stuff and Thangs. Not like I got anything on camera today. I continue to fuck-up, coming to my what, abstinence?

All I’ve been reading has been about? How the heart is stronger than the brain. I suppose that’s true in certain instances. Of course, I thought it was love many times, but no, Madam. At the end of the day, all I wanted to do was fuck. Then Braxton came along. Knowing what love is. So there’s my heart. I know where my liver is… a few too many pills. Guts, do I have any? The heart, what has it done for me lately? Flesh is stronger, I’m afraid. Inevitable. Impossible not to give in. But for 161 Days? Sigh, body, heart, and mind as confusing as Gospel 200 Wills Lost And Found. Strange this body finds any peace. So The Heart Begs, Body Dictates.

Gospel 200 ~Wills Lost And Found~

351 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 196 ~To B On Time~

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Time enough at last? Between doing everything, I’ve ever done except for changing B’s bathroom spot and refilling the food side of his dog bowl. B still has 347 treats sitting on the table. Trust me, I count. Late to him but work. “To B On Time”

Thursday, January 13, 2022

Chronicle 196 ~To B On Time~

347 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sorry I’m early or late, depending on what we’re talking about. Books, Boobs, Bucks…

Could your Aunt entice you to please come back home? I know B, I know I keep seeing the words, um, “Lessons from Rainbow Bridge.” You’re always here. But to pet you again. While I was reading yesterday. That would be Sunday, so of course, today’s Monday. One more thing the authors talk about. Time does not exist where you are. Always Braxton. Again you’re always here. It did take a lot to even make it to the couch. That is our spot, but everywhere is ours, right. Even if I’m lying in bed reading instead of on the loveseat. Today, talking to you, I’m blaming TRB Schmitt and his cute wife Samantha for being in bed. Jesus, did I open a can of worms…

First off, you were cremated and not buried. I’m keeping you with me, say it with me, Little B, Always. But second. And it shouldn’t be, but who else do I love on this planet. Next to you, there’s your grandma and then. I’m pretty fond of your Aunt. Boobies! Inevitable that I will find someone to love, right? You know how I’ve been feeling about such a thing as love these days. I’m more clearheaded when I can talk to you. While I’m at the Day Job, it’s, “Yeah, I’m going to die alone.” People suck, Braxton. Counting myself. If you had your way, you liked your Aunt Carolina Bound. There are no prospects. Not on the girl front or on the furries B.

Unless you were trying to send me a message last night. Nightmare, I can’t remember. Were you trying to show me that I needed protection? Besides turning on the lamp and your picture frame, I moved to your side of the bed. You know your corner where you’d stand guard. It’s way past time I get a Cuddle Clone of you, my stalwart standing fast. Speaking of which, the only moving I’ve done regarding your things is your toys. Oh, I put them back. And I’m trying to keep your corner clean. My way of giving you, love. Is it the same with the gates? Again the books keep saying, you are still here. Time’s not on my side but always… To B On Time

Gospel 196 ~Obsessive, Contagious, Addicted, Will~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

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I wish I was a little bit taller. I wish I had wings. Hell, I should start playing “Far Cry 5” with that grappling hook instead of having dangerous thoughts. Quite painful, but I’m alive if I’m searching for tortilla chips. B A Head Taller.

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m sure I could afford lifts, one of those grab tools, people, my Braxton, right…

Today is Sunday (Time-Travel), but what happened was on Saturday. I talked about having an epiphany, a revelation. I won’t go all into that. Better you could ask my man in the mirror, Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of… Gospel 195 Nobody But Will’s Wife. Inspector, that’s what I’ve been doing these days. Reminiscing? No, that’s the wrong word. Reaching out for answers. And I want to say there is none, then Inspector, there’s truth. Anyway, let me start with Saturday at Walmart. My Ma made some Queso dip, and surprise, I’m out of chips. I ate hers, snacking. So the chips I want are on this high shelf. There are people. I can ignore the chips or reach and risk humiliating myself and so…

A person will choose physical harm to avoid mental anguish. I chose my mind over my body. I reached those damn chips because I didn’t want to know the shame of my failure. They’re all gonna laugh at you, but nobody did because I succeeded. But it hurt like Hell. Humiliations galore rule at the Day Job, but I continue to hurt myself there, Inspector. Dammit, I’m so tired this second, but I refuse any napping because of my mind Inspector. Physical pleasures Echo? I’m going out of my mind. Only let my flesh suffer, Inspector. Then there’s death. Ok, dangerous words always. Unhealthy grief? I’ve had 346 Days of it. I’m surprised I haven’t drowned in it. Between refilling Braxton’s water bowl. My tears, several releases, but no blood.

That leads me back into the mental or the physical. Again, every day I refill his water. I place his treats on the table. Echo, that’s what I hear my voice do when I call him for meds. When I tell him hello and goodbye. I set up his gates, move his bed, everything. I put myself through the physical task to avoid the humiliating truth. I failed Braxton. Fuck me, don’t sugarcoat it; I killed B III. My son, my best friend, is dead because of me, Echo. That is my failure and my disgrace, and I wish I had fallen from that damn shelf for chips. Let me drown in wasted water. Never do Onlyfans again. To die, I’d B A Head Taller.

346 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 193 ~Pain Makes Heroes And Villains~

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I always saw myself as the villain. I’m no Trumptard, but I like power. That means I’m no democrat. Um, I don’t want to do politics. But I find it hard to do any morning without my son. My hero. Playing the villain for Pain Makes Heroes And Villains.

Monday, January 10, 2022

Chronicle 193 ~Pain Makes Heroes And Villains~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does that make me a hero or a villain. I know that making money hurts. Kills!

I could talk about my body wasting away, but of course, you know what I want to talk about. Braxton is dead. I wouldn’t know at the time “2021” Gospel 193 List It Up, Will. Madam, I was much too busy playing the hero. Like a fucking rich man with $600 in my pocket, and I spent $100 on B. As a poor man, I was still working to provide for us both. Every day I face the evils of this world because I AM a father. Present tense always. That’s what Jack and Kate say in their book Letters From Rainbow Bridge. Past tense? That’s dismissing Braxton from my life, and I need him now more than ever. Kept my lamp on last night.

That doesn’t make me sound like much of a villain, now does it. I don’t even know what woke me up, but I couldn’t get back to sleep for a bit. Where is my hero? Watching over me as always, but still, I needed the light. All I recall is the pain. Nightmares have pain? I’ll always think of how B III would get a blanket when I was ill. A cape and hoody, ha. If I would make all the world my bed, then he would stay here so I could keep him safe. The way he’d smile when I would pet him or rub his tummy. B III, look, the day is saved. The pain Madam, the greatest hurt comes from being alone.

No, that’s a lie. In one of the arguments, I have with myself… I need to stop talking to myself. That makes me sound crazy. At least when Braxton… again, I’m trying. Braxton is here but talking to myself seems to be a form of Acceptance. 344 days, I’ll never. Anyway, my “father” taught me that this is the most villainous act that can ever be done. The Destruction of a Soul. Yes, I’m a killer. All these books on Euthanasia sound like Greek to me. The good death. Taking someone’s body is horrible, their life even more so. But the concept of taking away someone’s will? My “father’s” a villain. My son’s a hero. But both brought pain. Me? Pain Makes Heroes And Villains

Gospel 193 ~List It Up, Will~

“Last night reading over the Dæmon’s vet care. I felt like such a horrible parent.”

“Now it’s “A Different Alchemy” Jeffery and his son Galen. One more thing to show your dad like failures, yep.”
193 List It Up, Will

344 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 189 ~An A Or B~

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B was a gift to my sister. Only He’s My Son. I don’t know when I chose him, but he chose me. It was the day my Olds moved; I said, “get in the car, B,” and it was my car. Best choice we ever made. And this year, I’m already making bad ones. An A Or B

Thursday, January 6, 2022

Chronicle 189 ~An A Or B~

340 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It would be better if we were walking together, I bet. Me or the bridge?

I know I made that choice for you. Daddy knows best? Yeah, you knew me better than anyone, B. I can only imagine the choices I’ve had to make this week, with Time Travel and all. “Up there,” can you see the future, and if so, give me a hint, won’t you? That’s a no? Um, if you had a chance to save my life or not? B we saved each other lots of times. For the last one, B. One more apology, I owe you, or let’s see. I’m sorry I’m talking to you well now. I’m sorry for being so down on what should be a good day. B, what’s the last one? Like The Terminator, I killed you. And doing it again…

We’re getting close, Braxton, though it’s only day one right now… Anniversary. This morning, I began looking over my conversations around this time last year. Gospel 189 ~ Don’t Count On Will~ if you’re curious. I know I’m not, and it hurts, but I deserve it. Pain over pleasure B. I could take a nap this second, but I want to get this done. Yeah, we’ll be talking Sunday, I know. But, if I have any New Year’s Resolutions, one of them should be to make better choices. It’s much too late for that now after last night. Yes, it’s Sunday now. Speaking of time and being too late, oh and decisions. Well, I was all wrong. Other than loving you, my B III, Always.

I wish everything else was only STUPIDITY. It’s like the laptop desk sigh. Forgetting the days. Braxton, you know Sunday my Dead Time, as in The Walking Dead, and remember, Into The Badlands. Yeah, that was a good show. You were here. What’s your age again? Kidding B. But it wasn’t you. It was me that chose to end you B at 15. I feel STUPID. Not a choice but a statement of fact. Like I’ve started reading the days leading up to your last. Gospel 189 ~ Don’t Count On Will~. Beats, My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do? I’ll read more. Why? Because I’m an A and you’re a B, my B. I’m trying B. Choices, Walking Dead. An Or A B

Gospel 189 ~Don’t Count On Will~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

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Surprise, I’m still alive, but I’ve been saying that since I bought cheap sleeping pills. I can’t take aspirin anymore, but who knows. Does a liver recover? More concerned about my heart and wallet. Braxton was my constant. No Surprise, It’s A B

Wednesday, January 5, 2022

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but no, I don’t have a new best friend. Well, how do I know with Time-Travel?

I didn’t know I’d try “adulting” and pay my own way for once. I gave my Ma a 50 Echo. Um, Echo, that put me in a bad way with finances, so I could be starving this week, but no. Then I got reimbursed for my eye exam, so that’s $138.00 Inspector Echo. Hell, I didn’t know I would start this year pissing off another woman. Icky choice of words. Anyway, I saved $10.00 not having to pay Maitland Ward. Capital A had me in a bad way. I’m upset I won’t see Cherry in a particular light again. Making women happy Inspector Echo? You know that’s my thing, ha. And let’s not talk about the Basic Bitch. It is a New Year, right. Surprise!

I’m still alive as the song goes, but Braxton is not. After all the bangs, booms, and blasts from last night. Again I’m back in time; today is January 1, 2022. B III didn’t have a heart attack this time last year; he wasn’t hit with anything. Dear God, I looked it up for sure. Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~ I don’t want to read it. Then there’s the book I picked out today. Christmas is done, and I didn’t know where the Hell I was before, during, after Braxton. It was routine, and now as always, I’m a day late and a dollar short with his death. My first book this New Year, “My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do?” Surprise, Surprise!

Bucks, Babes, my Boy all coming and going this way and that. It’s like I’m always screaming at the TV, tell me something I don’t know. A moneyed white dude gets away with anything and everything again, inevitable. Enough past talk, future is coming on. Which, of course, is why I’m talking to you this Saturday, E. Day Job, Humiliations Galore. Besides getting reimbursed or my Ma stopping by, the future is always worse. That’s a sin I can report to you today. I knocked off speaking positivity into my life from my New Year’s Resolutions. Now that would be something if I could keep them. I’d settle for having a good day. In school, a D was acceptable. In life, Surprise, It’s A B.

Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~
Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~

339 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 186 ~Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens~

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I heard that you ain’t no kind of man without land. I know “a man provides” for his family. I ain’t got much, but I offer what I have to artists, assholes, adult entertainers. Sometimes you have to cross the road. Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens.

Monday, January 3, 2022

Chronicle 186 ~Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-First Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I’m $11.00 richer than yesterday. I’m a different man from last year or not, you think?

For the record, it’s still December 31, 2021. Time-Travel Madam, more so now. I wonder, will I stop spending so much money on Yabbos, make my list? B would “say” the best legs, breasts, and thighs are found in a bucket of chicken. Church’s chicken? Something else for me to hype today besides a pornstar. No, I don’t mean that as an insult in any sense, J. Sex workers, starlets, the sensuality of women I’m quite the fan of. I don’t hedge, hem, and haw, hide that fact at all. So why do I feel I’ve been squished for now? Fuck I crossed the road today, and all I want to do is cross back, Madam. I wasn’t wrong; was I? Trust your first instinct.

That’s why THEY ask why the chicken crossed the road instead of saying the poor thing. Hell, Madam, I’m a poor thing (cough) $11.00 (cough). I’m not going back, dammit. Madam, I always do this, but okay here we go. You know Maitland Ward? Much like every other bit of adult entertainment, she made the budget. So like I was telling Lady Sophia, I’m hanging out on OnlyFans. She says Good Morning, so do I and she starts flirting. I ain’t got any money, so better to remain silent. That’s me being a squirrel, J. Anyway, she calls me out, asking how much longer I’ll last not supporting her. $11.00 a month… So I say I’m sorry and bye and unsubscribe. I crossed the road.

When you’re a coward, they call you a chicken. But they get to the other side, don’t they, despite everything, Madam? And God, I’ve been fried, well burned plenty, Madam. Squirrels, on the other hand, are only thinking about their nuts. Madam, I’m aware, chickens, roosters, whatever. What about Milana Vayntrub; could’ve been Squirrel Girl? B III, like his Daddy, is pretty obsessed with Yabbos, but at the end of the day… Are we eating? My boy’s courage at the end, and I’m upset about a girl? I decided and I should make more choices like it. The choices that put money in my pocket and don’t cater to me being disrespected. Man or a mouse, Squirrel or Chicken. Well, Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens.

337 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 182 ~Seeing You B Free~

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I am not going to bury my son; my son is going to bury me. Only my firstborn is my dog. I knew the day would come, but for fifteen years, more like seven days as I watched my world end, and that was back at the start of the year. “Seeing You B Free.”

Thursday, December 30, 2021

Chronicle 182 ~Seeing You B Free~

333 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I haven’t looked up in a while. “Don’t Look Up” yeah seems I’m obsessed B.

Only I couldn’t figure it out until I talked to your Aunt today (Tuesday). You know why you and I are talking so early. The Day Job sucks, and we got to talking about that Braxton. Do you remember when the three of us would sit on the loveseat watching movies? Those were fantastic times. Well, after you jumped all over her and she shared dinner. Anyway, so your Aunt asked me this morning um afternoon? I was out of it after fucking up last night, and I hope you didn’t see that. I watched you enough with your toy Braxton. So, I wrote to Dear Future Wife today, and I said that it’s because of my indifference you left me here. All my fault.

I shared it with Aunt Carolina. She asked whether I believed that indifference killed you. B? Like the song um, “Son what you don’t understand, my words might never explain.” So, of course, I leave it to a film, “Don’t Look Up.” I’m a mix of Drs. Mindy and Oglethorpe. Um, there are so many places I can go with that. Imagine me a Doc. The last Doc you saw. Anyway, Mr. B, so like Randall, I know what I know, and still, I lost myself. I wish I could say it was to the fame and the sex. How long have we lived here, B? Have you seen any girls in the bedroom? B III, zero, but yeah, “I just want to go home.”

It’s because you were always here, my dude. But that brings me to Teddy, who had nowhere to go. He spent his final time with friends but no family; he had no one B III. He said they tried, you know. They saw the end, what became the inevitable Braxton. So, that brings me to you and the conversation I had with your Aunt. I knew the day was coming that I would be without you. And like all the other characters in “Don’t Look Up.” I didn’t pay any mind B. Anything with my pleasures, gratification, hedonism, oh yes. Even when it came to my hate, give me more. But to you, my very son, the one I love. Sigh Seeing You B Free

Always and Forever,
Your Dad