Tag: Daddy

Chronicle 090 ~2B Or Not To~

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A great man once wrote, to be or not to be. I’m nowhere near, not even good, and who would ever think I’m alright? Carolina Bound or M Anime? I do worry what B III thinks of me, wherever he is now. 2B Or Not To

Wednesday, September 29, 2021

Chronicle 090 ~2B Or Not To~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. That’s like saying Braxton is alive. I own a brothel, and I’m married to NieR’s 2B.

Carla Valenti

We’ll get into that soon enough. Forgive me, Inspector Echo, for I have sinned. If I hadn’t given you Carla Valenti’s form from Indigo Prophecy, you would be a nun. I had a thing for holy women once “ahem” do (M Anime). Anyway, I should try to regain my holiness. But I have the spirit of fear when it comes to tagging up the shoes at my fucking Day Job. I refuse to speak my mind there. Anytime I find myself lying, that’s only Acceptance. Yesterday the Stupidity I showed was libel to get someone hurt, and I was corrected. Inspector, I find myself breaking Rule 002 You Are Not A Caveman. What’s Rule 001? Dammit, these may not seem like violations but killing Braxton…

If anything, that is the one crime I know I will never surpass. As always, Braxton remains the constant. So what took me so long getting back to you, considering it is now 9:40 AM? Routine, Tradition, the Usual, another day? I would have gotten up because of B III. Braxton would take his medication first because the meds made him into a fire hydrant. Then we would walk. Depending on my laziness, we would eat breakfast, Braxton and me. Today, there was his water and his treat in Remembrance. I fixed a Pop-Tart and a cappuccino. Oh yeah, then I had to get all sorts of crazy ideas for “Stuff And Thangs.” Of course, you know how that goes. I wouldn’t have dared before.

When I’m not Braxton’s Daddy, who am I? The people at Petsmart have stopped offering. I pet fur babies, but I can’t bring one home. To be a Dad again because I’m no model, ha. I don’t want to be, Inspector, you know. I woke up at 4:00 AM and shut my eyes. It hurts. Dangerous thoughts, but then there are moments. There are always several for B, my son. There are productive times. Not that I’m counting today sitting in bed or kitchen nakedness. I’ve been saying it, sitting in the Den with the door closed, believing Braxton’s back? Inspector, he wouldn’t be happy with me, slacking off reading. None of it’s Shakespeare but better than Playboy. Awake and Alive? 2B Or Not To

241 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 088 ~Live Like God’s Running Late~

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I’m NOT a Believer, but with people nowadays? If the Force was an actual religion (I heard it is in places), I would be right there for it. If my Braxton was not the word of God, then God never spoke (from The Road). Live Like God’s Running Late

Monday, September 27, 2021

Chronicle 088 ~Live Like God’s Running Late~

Two-Hundred And Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m going to Hell. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk, Richard Branson joined.

Now wasn’t that rude of me. To imagine how many dogs they killed? Hell, the only reason Justice that you’re being dreamed, deferred, denied, and a dozen other D-Words is this. God is running late. He, she, or it does not exist? Again, I continue to go back and forth. Now Braxton lived up to this rule. If I had any chance of getting to Paradise, B III was it. As I was busy not being a monk Sunday, I thought back to the 161 days I deemed myself “good.” Braxton gave me those. Now 239 days in without my fur baby turned angel, dammit. Madam, I’m starting with the “Man In The Mirror” today. Did I mean for that to be inspirational? More fighting.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life ― John 3:16

“All I know is the child is my warrant and if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke” ― The Man, The Road

I hate that guy more than my Old Man. I’m Thirty-Seven, and with as much shit as I talk about my Olds, I would be out on the street without them. That’s an argument for there being a God. Braxton was the word of God, and you know what he said. I love you, yeah. No talk of him running late. Or was it the fact that he tried for fifteen years, a month shy of his sweet sixteen? I don’t blame him for leaving. There’s only so much he can do. Look at the man Braxton had to deal with. No, I don’t mean Onlyfans… unless? Yep, I’m stupid. I still hate that word. A word, the world. Without my B, taking an L.

I’m going to Hell. Ha, at times, I forget I’m already there. So be it for Wrath, Lust, or Sloth. My circles of choice would be between Lust, Anger, and yes, my greatest sin, Treachery. That’s what Acceptance is to me, Madam. That’s why I await God for my damnation. Please, aren’t I living it? At some point this week, things will be worse as I read my Day Job schedule. Oh, and while I’m on the subject of reading, which do you think is worse; “Connected Souls” (Dogs) or “Succubus 7: Fairy Tale.” All the time in the world to read and why shouldn’t I. 52 books in a year like I’m Bill Gates. Love, no but fucking-up to Live Like God’s Running Late.

239 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 084 ~Reasons To Fry B~

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I have a vegan/vegetarian friend here or there. B III’s Aunt calls me a true Carnivore; this isn’t that type of conversation. As I stuffed my face yesterday with fries, and will do so again. I remember why there are more than usual. Reasons To Fry B.

Thursday, September 23, 2021

Chronicle 084 ~Reasons To Fry B~

235 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day is only starting, and it’s not because some chick is good mommy material.

I’m sorry, Braxton. We are boys, but I tried to keep that kind of talk away from you. I remember you and your Aunt and how you and I had “The Talk.” Be good, Daddy. Braxton, I don’t think I was. It’s obvious why you’re not here. I’ll never forget why you aren’t ok. So as the Terminator said, “I killed you.” And I didn’t put you, my son, first. Hell, if I was ever up this early, and I wasn’t going into the Day Job, you’d be up like the sun. I noticed that as I was making the bed. Second straight day and I decided to, B III. Usually, I would let you sleep longer B while I went to take a shower.

Is the water hot enough, or am I dreaming up new reasons I’m getting into Hell? As I said, it wasn’t a woman that got me up. I made an accidental discovery yesterday, so fuck. Well, at least it’s only me. And not some indigenous people, the day job (fuck that, BTW), or women. Well, in the instance of reading The Handmaid’s Tale, again trying. Braxton, I finished reading a good portion last night instead of talking to you. We’ll have to continue this conversation later this afternoon. Of course, I’ll bring fries home, Braxton. Did you see I’m saying your name more? I still say it every day with medicine in hand, saying goodbye, and walking in. Whenever I slip up, oh, the pain.

Take yesterday’s first humiliation as an example. I was walking up to the Day Job, and I literally almost slipped and fell, rain and all. Bark at Earnest Hemmingway, Braxton. What right do I have to ask you to do anything for me? Would you stand up to God if I had fallen and broken my neck? You could be saving me a nice warm spot by the fire, ha. Oh yeah, my Treachery, which of course, is a Ninth Circle trespass. Whether it’s something like buying onion rings B III. How about petting a warm doggie at the store? Being with you like this, but I want to be back beneath the covers sleeping. Explains some of my dreams. My Reasons To Fry B.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 081 ~Yesterday Was The Easy Day~

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Sad but true, even before Braxton and worse without him. It’s sort of like that movie Office Space. Every day is the worst day of my life except for Emergence, Braxton’s last day, and the Day Job anniversary. Yesterday Was The Easy Day

Monday, September 20, 2021

Chronicle 081 ~Yesterday Was The Easy Day~

Two-Hundred And Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I won’t be writing at the dining room table tomorrow. I’ll be busy with humiliation.

If there’s anything to hope for while I Time Travel today, it’s this. No, not that I’ll see a fur baby at PetSmart Saturday. Today is the farthest from that, being Sunday, and I got another email about a puppy yesterday. Every day I’m farther away from B III, dammit. Um, excuse me, Madam, I need that pain. As I was trying to say, I can only hope I’ve seen the worst humiliations this world has had to offer. Only I know I haven’t. If I were smart, I would be in bed right now, soaking in whatever energy, comfort, peace to be found, yep. Despite all I have done today, the only fact is that Monday will be worse. Dare I become a prophet?

A Realist. As I said before, it will be 232 days without my son when you see this, dear Madam. It doesn’t get easier. I still have yet to see one where I wasn’t crying about him. I’d take that over living like this. It’s a horrible thought to think that Braxton was the lucky one. It should have been me. I’ve said it before that 2020 and being 36 was a cakewalk, piece of cake and easy as pie compared to the moment right now. Let’s look at today, Sunday. Besides talking to you, I got dinner started early. I worked on “Stuff and Thangs.” Madam, I took a shower. I even changed my mind between reading The Handmaid’s Tale and The Red Collar.

Compared to tomorrow or today, whatever. Madam, this whole week is going to suck. Yes, every day will be worse than the last. Braxton’s not here to lie to anymore. I only speak the truth to myself, and when it comes to the day job… I know I didn’t say Another…

“There’s too many men, too many people, making too many problems.”

My fucking Republican tendencies. They want more people until they’re born. More, unless their immigrants. Yes, more unless they have brains. People make the days harder, that is true.

“If anything, I am an equal opportunity misanthropist.” ― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle.

I think that’s it… I hate days more than the people. Hating myself the most because Yesterday Was The Easy Day.

232 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 077 ~B A Good Book~

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“My Turn To B III” is a book I wrote that nobody’s seen. Hell, I haven’t looked at it in months. I know what I want to read across these pages, but the last thing I need is cops. I’m a black man told not to cry but without B’s fur. B A Good Book

Thursday, September 16, 2021

Chronicle 077 ~B A Good Book~

228 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Except for sitting on my ass in bed, today isn’t looking any better than yesterday.

God or instead, Dog, Braxton, I wish you were here today. Let me play the Republican right now and act like people don’t have Google or any type of search engine. September is National “blah” Prevention Month. Makes sense with it being my Emergence, right? Once I saw this book “On The Night You Were Born.” I didn’t say I read it; I flipped through a few pages. Um yeah, I got the gist. Hell, on the night I was born, I’m sure my Olds broke out into “That’s How You Know You Fucked Up.” The night you were born B? Well more like the night I saw you being carried into my world. Hell, I’ve already written four books, three as fiction, one biographical

You know a little “Mexican” college student who had a thing for tye-dye hoodies and was adopted. Is That Racist? As I said, I’m playing Republican trying to ignore the things I don’t like. The two worst being that you’re gone and myself. B, I picked up a lifeline card. No worries. The last time I talked to those people, my Olds kicked me out. I ended up living out of a one-room hellhole for around three months without you. What was the lesson? If I was going to do “something,” as Morgan Freeman says, “Go on and do it EXPEDITIOUSLY!” Hell, like everything else in life, I’m a lazy ass. It’s a bad habit that you picked up on. I’d read, and you’d sleep.

Then again, you knew how to live a good life. You knew how to be a best friend, a brother, the boy I would call my son. Even when you were running a brothel in my stories, you didn’t partake. You had a wife, children of your own. All the perverted shit is your Old Man. That’s all me. Of course, the story freaked Cherry out, and why wouldn’t it? I don’t know if I sent it to your Aunt. M Anime would go running for the hills. Publishing it? One of the reasons I’m still alive. You know what I want to say but don’t need the cops at the door. How to B You; a book I should read. B A Good Book

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 074 ~Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith~

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I said humanity had a duty to survive but considering the direction we’re going in. I know I’m a bad man, and there have been more than enough days wishing I got what was coming to me. It’s ain’t over for me, Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith.

Monday, September 13, 2021

Chronicle 074 ~Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith~

Two-Hundred And Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Every day I say that; such is my faith. But my wallet… I’m mad about twenty bucks.

Hell, I’m angry about math in general. You know that song “What’s My Age Again?” Fucking Emergence Day. I remember where my father was by this age, sigh. Sleeping… nope. Like Sunday, I wake up to see I’ve lost cash on something I never use, something I don’t want. If it’s any consolation, at least it’s better than Yabbos. For the love of money, eh? Speaking of Yabbos, two words, Prom Night. Understand, I’m getting too old for this shit. But Samantha Flair “robbed” me, I’ll have to let Whitney Wright go. Oh, the Yabbos. To have faith in one pair and such faith was misplaced. The others were my bread and butter. What was it I said about feeling good yesterday? Today I’m tired.

Why shouldn’t I be? Do you see what time it is and it’s not for the Day Job? Still, today is all about survival. Most days, I don’t even worry about that much. “Humiliations Galore!” That’s what I want to avoid most days, but of course, today I need to get my haircut. So much for recouping the losses from the thievery. Funny, I think so bad of some chick. Of anybody when I need only say his name. Braxton. Oh, did you think I forgot my son? Talk about Losing My Religion, but we’ll get to that. It’s Day 225. How many more, hmm? As long as I keep myself alive. No, this isn’t living. As always, Madam, these words, are they living, breathing?

It’s like The Scorpion and the Frog, Toad, Boy, Goose, whatever. To cause pain, and yet I had two lives to keep alive, two men that I trusted. If anything, B III had enough faith for the both of us. Honestly, it’s not going back to the days when B III was alive. I want to go back to survival as routine. When I’m not, I hate the man that I am. There’s a rule for that, you know, ok. Rule Four: Hate Will Keep You Alive. Do I need to go into Rule Five? I see why hate is so prominent. As the song goes, I’m only “Human.” That’s in dispute, depending upon who you ask. Braxton isn’t here anymore, but he had/has faith. Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith

225 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 070 ~A Promise, B Eating~

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Be Not So Fearful; it doesn’t taste as bad as it looks. Well, I wasn’t interested in B’s cake, but he loved it, his aunt made it. As for Red Lobster, well, that’s one restaurant I won’t bother with. I want a Buffalo Chicken Sub. “A Promise, B Eating”

Thursday, September 9, 2021

Chronicle 070 ~A Promise, B Eating~

221 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’ve had two days of waking, whenever I want (it’s been a long time). To be young. Today is fearful.

No, it wasn’t the cheesecake. Not that I could share that with you anyway, but my promise. Out of everything to come out of “Emergence Day,” at least I kept my word. I’d instead celebrate your birthday, B. Even now, I don’t know what I would have done but 16. My greatest shame that you didn’t get to see it. Braxton, it makes that $50.00 I spent seem like nothing at all. Hell, it always comes back to money with me, doesn’t it? With the quality of the meal, you could have had all of it. I forget, can you have shrimp. No B III. Now that’s something you don’t miss, me telling you no. I bought some Mr. Goodbars, and since you’re not here…

Well, the house is still a mess. Sometimes I find myself stepping on this or that every once and a while. What it’s not like your mom is here. As a matter of fact, yesterday, I did a full-on photoshoot for my (Stuff And Thangs) Onlyfans. With a solid eight hours and a full stomach. Of course, I’m eating pancakes, and I would share plenty. I wonder how you would feel about the sausage and hash browns? Talk about stories I tell myself before bedtime. The Aunt Jemima breakfast you stole when you were but a small pancake yourself, Braxton. The things that pass for meat in the country and you and I aren’t vegetarians in any sense. At least you’re not mad at Subway.

No more Buffalo Chicken. You know I continue to imagine what did you in; besides my own hands. Was it the water? I got one of those notices for the fridge the other day. Before BK ripped me off, I ordered a lot from there with coupons. What was it B III? I don’t know? I’m having enough trouble filling my belly. I can’t worry about feeding another B III. Braxton, the dream I had about the candy dog, what were you trying to say to me playing my Virgil? I know what I know, and I’ll assume you’re stuffing your face. You deserve it. You know I would preach politics, but all my favorite foods are going away. Starvation, punishment? A Promise, B Eating

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 067 ~Duty Should Not Rule Destiny~

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I can’t promise to do more than survive this week. I didn’t know it was my destiny to be here and if I had my way… Humans have a duty to survive but as far as a “shared” destiny. Braxton should be a part of mine still. Duty Should Not Rule Destiny

Monday, September 6, 2021

Chronicle 067 ~Duty Should Not Rule Destiny~

Two-Hundred And Fourth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I had never met Braxton, I’d take that over fatherhood.

So I know today is about Rule 204, but it’s also Day 218 without B III. Yep, I’m not alright. We could also talk about Year 37, but I’d instead cry over B’s death than my waste of life, I know. Because when I dream of destiny, a concept, an ideology, I remember writing Rule 13. “Power Is All That Matters.” Do I believe that this is my destiny? I’m halfway tempted to go all Forrest Gump. “I didn’t know it, but I was destined to be your daddy.” At the same time, if B were still here, I’d have to ask, “What’s my destiny, son?” I have no clue. Fuck, whatever it is, I know it’s not what I did while showering last night.

To quote Rule 002, “You Are Not A Caveman.” Allow me to be one of the “Cool Kids,” and as Xzibit put it, “Man was made to procreate.” So for a while, I have come to believe this sentiment. For me, the epitome of a man is that of fatherhood.

A man must see to his family always and forever. I didn’t need a woman for that; now that’s not anything against women. Braxton’s love. Madam, I had my son. You know how certain people are about animals. Again Braxton. It was his duty to protect me, Madam, but it was his destiny to love me. Did he? Of course. My duty was to provide; my destiny was to love. As The Beatles sang “All You Need Is Love,” Hmm.

If Life is a Game, Love is the Instructions. I was in the Navy for a couple of weeks. Yes, I’m rambling, but my point is I had a duty to my country but a destiny to love all, right? Madam, every day it’s as if I have to write, but I have the destiny to live as a writer. Does that make any sense? A duty to try but my destiny and another song I just wanna be “Successful.” Going back to rule 002. I have to survive. A caveman could do that. What does it mean to live? When’s the last time I felt alive? I don’t mean Fear, Sex, Pain, but good. Sad, but it won’t be any time this week. Survive. Duty Should Not Rule Destiny

218 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 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