Chronicle 193 ~Pain Makes Heroes And Villains~

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

“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~

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

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~

339 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 186 ~Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens~

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~

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

Chronicle 181 ~Time To B Humiliated~

When a guy goes without the ladies for so long… I remember what I bought; some years back on E-Day. What I can’t bring back; is my B or the guy I was before my Day Job, other dumb people, my Dad. But they all call sigh. Dear B, “Time To B Humiliated”

Wednesday, December 29, 2021

Chronicle 181 ~Time To B Humiliated~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and with that kind of money, there’s no such thing as Humiliations Galore. The Princess Bride?

But Inspector these days, I’m all about “Don’t Look Up.” Only I won’t be watching it again tonight. There’s no time. Inspector, how much have I wasted this Monday afternoon? Time Travel, of course. Hell, most of this life is spent daydreaming about the embarrassments to come. Yes, we will get into sex. But so far now, walking around nude is A-Ok. Yet I’m ashamed of the fact that I haven’t done anything to save myself today. Every day I’m sitting here is an insult to B III’s memory. I told Braxton that we’d have a life. Inspector, am I living? Is he? I have to believe he’s here, the books keep telling me. Well, not my current selection. Reading is a good thing, Inspector.

I’ll never believe that reading is a waste of time. But focusing on two things at the same damn time that aren’t Yabbos, Echo. My dick and the rich man that’s banging a hot elf. “Night Before.” I think about those 161 Days a mistake, in mourning, a type of mania without B here. How many times did I hope B would get in trouble or I could close the bathroom door? You want a confession, Inspector; I mean an honest confession? After 161 Days, I’m not sure how long I could go with a girl. Not tooting my own horn, but I WAS pretty good… in bed, of course. Or bad/naughty whatever. Anyway, when I gave up monk status… where’s my Stamina Training Unit?

Am I older, still fucked up, not the man I used to be? And never who I want to be. Not at the Day Job ever. How many ways will I be humiliated in my next shift? I’ve been complaining about money, but I rejected some more hours. Save my shame for the bed, thanks. The empty bed. I’d give up every girl if my boy and I could go right on living like always. My new “workstation” is coming soon, and there are plenty of bedroom ways for extra cash. I said I’d get the booster on New Year’s Day. And I can pick up condoms and, um, pills. Nothing brings back the dead. Who I was before Humiliations Galore. Time To B Humiliated

332 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 179 ~Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her~

“Just look up.” Maybe I’ll go a classic “just look over your shoulders, honey.” Now “Willow” was a classic. The guy fell in love with the chick as quickly as I did being a father to my son. Love at first sight for a… girl. Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her

Monday, December 27, 2021

Chronicle 179 ~Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her~

Two-Hundred and Twentieth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. This means I must believe like Philippe Weis, Rotti Largo, and Peter Isherwell. All about the “Benjamins.”

Yet when I made this rule, I was in a much different place. Without Love? Of a woman, why yes, unless you count my Ma, Braxton’s Aunt, and M Anime. But the love I desire… That’s the thing, Madam. While there is a twinge, a beat, a breath, I don’t think about having A Groovy Kind of Love. Hell, I didn’t appreciate the love staring me in the face, J. I looked up can a dog be a soulmate. Well, I rose because of Braxton. And he was ready as soon as the sun shined. He was my light in the darkness, and our moods were the moon and the tides. Every wish made, all my prayers, and B seeing me now. Just Look Up.

Or “Don’t Look Up.” I saw it again last night. Like it, not looking to love it. It’s too true. No, let me look down at my wallet and all the money I’m losing. You know what else glows, J? GOLD!!! When you want wisdom as much as air, Gold as much as Vanilla Tits. For the record, in my last dream, it was all about Jill Marie Jones, AKA Toni Childs from “Girlfriends.” Anyway, I can’t keep my eyes or my hands off my dick. Must I be crude? You should read some of my novels, Madam. I’m surprised I haven’t burned my eyes out of my head from the glowing screen. Anything to not look up like some damn Republican. The world’s burning.

But a pretty girl can do as much damage as any comet. I can’t say I have a good history with that. I told Cherry once that men would die to see her. And you remember ole girl… something with a D? I was begging to see Capital A. Why Madam must I see, dammit? Braxton was right there, Madam. He still is and will be always and forever. As I’ve said, B started at my feet. Then he sat in my lap. Soon he was like another rib. Higher still to protect him with my heart. My shoulder, my head, now Heaven… Tell me where to find a girl with such love. Higher? B, My Boy, He’s My Son. Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her?

330 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

So what are my Christmas plans? If I’m lucky, I’ll sleep most of the day. Well, after breakfast. I might take a walk around the neighborhood like I once did with Braxton. Being a black man, it’s like you have to be invited outside. An Invitation To B

Thursday, December 23, 2021

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

326 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were never one for the groomers. But my head feels better. Outside at least.

I tell you B inside it’s a Dead Man’s Party and everyone’s invited. Yeah, I know that look you’re giving me “leave your body at the door.” We should have talked way sooner than this. You know if I plan on going to the movies tonight. Somewhere inviting me back. Isn’t it like Emergence Day? The only people wishing me well are people that want my money. Speaking of which, hasn’t my wallet been pretty open as of late? I tried talking to Capital A. She’s back on GoFundMe, and I tried B III. I was fucking shameless. Boy, I cried. Nope, not out my eyes, and I’m still a monk. I wish I wasn’t. I wish you were here, B. Locked in your room.

Besides you being punished or my private shower time… Oh, let’s not forget the Day Job and doing things to keep us alive. There were no doors between us. Yes, as I said, I went to the occasional movie. This will be my first since the pandemic hit. Another first. Braxton, I keep track of them all. Even if I got you one of those lovely red vests, I doubt you’d keep it together for a movie. When it comes to my life, though, you are always invited. I guess I didn’t know how boring I was. Your Aunt Carolina could come by B. Do you remember when she wasn’t invited until she allowed you to sniff her up? Well, more like feeling her up.

You are your father’s son. No one would think about inviting a perverted would-be psychopath. Fighting Bipolar disorder, Anxiety, Depression, and OCD. A medical degree? I don’t have one. And even if I did, I doubt your grandma would invite me “home.” Oh, and your granddad? B, ain’t enough cash, so I see Capital A’s point. And home, um, oh? The last time I ever thought of home was when I sent you away? Before, it was when I got cut off from the Olds, but I was called to collect you, and we found ourselves here B III ha. Is that my way of once again inviting you back for Christmas? Everyone Says Hi, well me. To live, to love. An Invitation To B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 174 ~B Come Home For~

I’m glad I wrote this before today; otherwise, it would be all Humiliations Galore. There’s a reason we only see Santa once a year. It keeps him likable. People at the Day Job… I’m even less in the Christmas spirit, so why ask “B Come Home For?”

Wednesday, December 22, 2021

Chronicle 174 ~B Come Home For~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but all the fries, hot dogs, steak, and things Braxton shouldn’t have, won’t bring him back.

Christmas? So before I forget again, I’ve been bringing up what Braxton and I did. Before I discovered Goodreads, or cared to pick a genre. I’d read Christmas Erotica daily. In the AM, of course, B III would sleep. If in the evening, Braxton’s on my legs, he’d nap away. I’d make it to the store at some point and pick him out a small toy. But not Last Christmas. Ok, putting my phone away. Well, we’d stay up watching Official NORAD Tracks Santa. On Christmas morning, we’d go walking, yup. The world was so quiet, Braxton and I ruled. I’d share more than usual, and if I had a present, I’d give it to him, which he would ignore for my pancakes. The usual.

I do things without thinking sometimes. Picking up a box of pancakes on my last store trip. I got bacon and sausage too. This year I even picked out a toy for him. Um, ok, Last Christmas, I said I’d make it up to him for his birthday. It would’ve been B III’s Sweet 16. I keep saying Braxton and I aren’t big on the holidays, but I didn’t get him a gift for 16. Echo, I kept my word on my E-Day, but B III didn’t show up. Or he ate the missing potato. Remember Red Lobster? My Ma’s food was better on Thanksgiving, and still no B III. Inspector is it any wonder I’ve read about other worlds. Besides Christmas, The Rainbow Bridge.

Do you remember Senator Leighton from the movie Iron Jawed Angels? No, I haven’t been watching Christmas movies. I could watch one with Braxton’s Aunt. Bear with me, Echo. So his character is fictional, but do you recall how he took everything from his wife? He took her money, her children, damn near life. Then he expected she’d kowtow easy. If I had been his lawyer, I would have laughed in his face, but now I am that STUPID, Echo. I talked about how offensive I find that song Someday At Christmas. Why at Christmas? I wanted Braxton back the moment he stopped breathing. If he’s on the doorstep tomorrow… well fuck my Day Job. But for Christmas, for me ever. B Come Home For

325 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 172 ~Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand~

As the song goes, “I choose me, and I know that’s selfish love.” Not today. The Day Job calls, I won’t be choosing me. I show “loyalty” to my Olds. Otherwise, I’m on the street. My country, oh God, Then there’s my son. “Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand.”

Monday, December 20, 2021

Chronicle 172 ~Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand~

Two-Hundred and Nineteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I’m loyal to the almighty dollar. Negan said, “people are a resource.” King Ezekiel had morals.

For right now, today, hell about 15 years and 323 days, my loyalty is always to Braxton. My longing, my love, my life to my child. How many times have I sobbed since 7:00 am? He’s the reason I’m not out helping the local economy. Did I say “local?” Supercuts is a corporation. Um, I need a haircut, but it’s all, Baby, It’s Cold Outside. Oh, it’s my tears, yup. I’m not sad over my country or frothing at the mouth. At this rate, I want to be all Mr. Clark and say this place deserves what it gets. All I need to do is stay black and die. That’s what I’m doing today. I took a shower, planned on getting out, then boom Christmas.

B’s Aunt didn’t mean it. Madam, it’s a standard question for this time of the year. What do you want for Christmas? I want what I’ve wanted for 323 Days. I want my son back. It’s not like anything would be better with the rest of my life, but I’d have him. B is enough. I believe Cherry was into magic a bit but not Necromancy. So short of my Braxton, there was one of those tripods with the ring light. A laptop desk? Thought I wanted out of bed? Everything I want is to keep me right here. Braxton’s Cuddle Clone, watching over me. Then again, I wouldn’t want him to see me do things I do in life. My “loyalty” lasted 161 Days.

My mourning, mutism, my monkhood. But Madam, when I say always and forever, I mean it. Let Special K or Capital A ask for my help. I’d be there for them. That’s me, all me. Haven’t I talked about this once? I use what I call The Blackjack Scale. 21 means I’d die for you; Braxton was/is the only 21. I can’t go asking his Aunt for bullets now. I’d freak her out. For real, I could use the ammunition with everything. America, America. Loyalty to myself, you ask? Hell Madam, my body demands. I’d say besides my Masochism in my grief. My Sadism. Sprinkle in Hedonism to boot. “No Gods or Kings, only Man” Bioshock. Now Braxton’s loyalty… unquestionable. Loyalty Is Choice, Not Demand.


323 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will