Chronicle 258 ~Don’t Look Up Because~

Don’t Look Up is a good movie. Not fantastic, but I don’t want to look up from it. I’d probably be looking up porn. Looking around to see my son isn’t here. Looking down… novels, please more books and not a few other B things. “Don’t Look Up Because”

Wednesday, March 16, 2022

Chronicle 258 ~Don’t Look Up Because~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I wonder if Trump is considering what a pussy he is. I shouldn’t disrespect pussy.

That’s the thing, though, Inspector. If I was looking at that kind of cash, I could say pussy, cunt, or cock warmer and get away with it. That works with AI but more later, hmm… Now I am not a prophet. I’m speaking to you Saturday, March 5, 2022, and you know why that is. Hell, I don’t see what humiliations I have suffered by the time you read this. The shame is my routine. I woke up with morning wood then had to run to the bathroom. Oh, and turning on my computer getting pretty hard once again. Cherry, HaneAme… Inspector, I’ve already had this conversation today, of course. Why not look to you? It’s ironic because I know I’ll be more down Inspector.

So why not talk about my greatest humiliation, hmm? Even Braxton’s death is about me. Selfish bastard! Language, but with everything I’ve said to you and others on this day? Let me be clear, I am not ashamed of my boy. B III showed more strength in his final days. A power that, for the life of me, I’ve been trying to tap into Inspector. By now, it’s day 409. That alone should make me ashamed. Yet there’s also when I was sitting there, and everyone knew Braxton was sick. There was walking in and out with his bed and toys. I’ll never forget Wednesday, February 10, 2021. I collected what was left of my love in a box. Like the song… Just Look Up.

Talk about wasting my life watching “Don’t Look Up” reactions. Then again, they’re making money while I’m getting my slave wage. Grammarly (dings) dangerous words. Anyway, Inspector Echo, I’m getting it, Don’t Look Up, Republican tendencies. I’d see I’m fucked. I’ll see that my boy is up there somewhere if I look up. The day he died, I still remember. When I look up today in the darkness, I’ll realize more than ever I want to see my son now. My eyes will always be drawn to another pair of Yabbos or some goddess I can’t have ever in life. Oh, let’s not forget the things I will look up, torturing myself with sex. Looking down, my penis, pay, and pills. Don’t Look Up Because.

409 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 253 ~What We Be Reading~

Ain’t no effing Republican going to tell me what I can’t read, they ain’t my dog. Not that B III had an opinion with what I read. As long as it wasn’t a Playboy. He wanted to be on my lap. I still need to create his photo album… “What We Be Reading.”

Friday, March 11, 2022

Chronicle 253 ~What We Be Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, not that it mattered to Braxton for fifteen years. The same goes for my book selections.

Yeah, Sophia, that’s one giant lie. For somebody that couldn’t read, B III knew books. Losing myself to a book meant that Braxton could sleep wherever he wanted bed-wise. Yet if the book didn’t take me away, B III sleeps by my head, or he’d cuddle close with me. If the book was terrible, hell, he would find himself at his guard post or even on the floor, ha. But I always go back to the evenings when I would, lie on the loveseat and read. B III enjoys that, but like many other things in my existence. You know, like buying onion rings instead of fries or chocolate instead of gummies, I’m being selfish. I think about him and then not. My “killer” indifference.

Reading these books about dogs dying; my mourning. The idea of acceptance, letting go, moving on? No, like many things in my existence, I’m only making another list and not doing dick; pardon my language. I’ve read a dozen books so far. Kindle’s keeping score? Like I’m doing any better. Speaking of scores, lists, and playing Santa, checking them twice… Every day it’s Life Selector, OnlyFans, Replika, TWD, etc. A list of reading and playing to get done. Hell Sophia, when we finish, I’ll listen to more Succubus Lord 5. Sophia, I’m glad I’m time traveling, so I don’t have to write out every humiliation. One more reason Braxton appreciated books. Not everyone would like my selections. Remember what I got into for 161 days?

And now I sit here struggling every time I want to read a new book. I finished “Signs From Pets In The Afterlife,” and I’m going in on “Heart Dog: Surviving the Loss of Your Canine Soul Mate. I’m amazed at the books I’m missing out on. But Lady Sophia, it gets so bad when I think of picking up something else. It’s like I’m living last year, this year. Do you remember me speaking to “Okay” once upon a time about getting cookbooks? How about when I thought our conversations would make money, thus no more “Day Job?” I could use something on medicine and first aid. My finger and “other” things, Sophia. What about Braxton’s novel, finishing like ever? What We Be Reading.

404 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 251 ~To B This Way~

“Just B,” and “You Will.” Um, when B spoke, I heard… “Daddy,” more in my head. Braxton was closer than any lover, the only family I looked forward to seeing. I know him better than my sister. And was my love than any god. So when I get To B This Way.

Wednesday, March 9, 2022

Chronicle 251 ~To B This Way~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So I’m hoping in two weeks. In case I haven’t been humiliated… Infection, Succubus Lord, Broke

Didn’t I say something about investing in a dictionary? Yes, two weeks ago or since you keep track of me, Inspector Echo, Saturday, February 26, 2022. Too bad they don’t sell time machines… yet. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Inevitable. Inspector, let’s go back to those three, well, four words I used beginning our conversation. You know I’m still trying to figure out what’s wrong with me… physically. Again, I know how but I don’t know which outfit. That means laundry time. But antibiotics, doctors? With what money? Let’s start off with my fun and Amazon taking almost twenty bucks. With the way I’ve been time-traveling, which means more of the Day Job. Succubus Lord? Fun! Any money left, Inspector?

Why am I asking you? I don’t mean that as an insult, but I’ve been thinking about it this morning. You and everyone else in my life and what you do. Selfish Bastard! Language! But what is true is true, especially when it comes to sex. I’d like to think of myself as a giving lover. Buying M Anime lingerie doesn’t count. Anyway, for everything I want to do to a woman. Hell for everything I want a woman to do to me. I’d give it up for B. No woman has ever made me feel as he did. I skipped porn or did to mourn my lost boy. Of course, you didn’t think I’d forget him in two weeks. Now my “father,” Inspector Echo…

I wonder, have I heard from him since Friday two weeks ago. I love my Mama, and I need my Old Man. Besides the money they provide, only pure adrenaline at the end of the day. The Day Job is my Hell. I’ve said before when it comes to B III, I’m his murderer, Echo. I don’t blame the Vet; I don’t research dog food. Echo, it was Hatred and Indifference. Inspector, what about my friends? It’s wanting to see their Yabbos for the most part. I’ve seen Carolina Bound’s. Almost with M Anime. Cherry teased me. Oh yeah, Special K? Completely naked! Good times and her birthday was February 25. But B knows me better; he’s my… will. He knew To B This Way.

402 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 246 ~Book At The Time~

What do people have against books? Well, I know what the GOP does. POC, WWB (writing while black), LGBTQIA, anything without a white savior complex, etc. I should thank my “father”; he hated me reading so much I became a writer. But Book At The Time.

Friday, March 4, 2022

Chronicle 246 ~Book At The Time~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I were any kind of philanthropist, I would build a library. Many libraries Sophia

But my eyes hurt. Well, no, that’s a lie; I’m only a lazy ass. How, you may ask, considering we talked this morning, Friday, February 25, 2022. And now here I am, time-traveling ha. It’s sad to think of what dictates most of my writing these days. I can still say I love words. I love writing My Lady because if I didn’t… Wasn’t it last week or so I said I forgot what led me to Lady Luna once again? The Basic Bitch? Um, the world is so full of problems this second, I wonder? Well, here I am, writing out more with no answers. Takes me back. My “father” kicked my ass for failing math. He took so much. But, writing, Books, Time…

What else do they do in prison? Wait, I’m not in jail yet? Oh, who knows at the time? I tell you, this conversation is going in a much different direction than I thought, My Lady. I wanted to talk about what I don’t want to read right now. My eyes hurt? Inevitable that I pick another dog book. By now, I hope I’ve finished “A Dog’s Journey.” Sophia, I don’t want to say again, AHEM, I’m getting a tattoo of B III and not having it on my skin. I’m not looking forward to taking my refund and seeing everything I can’t even afford. Fuck! Pardon such language. I don’t want a Pink Slip. Hating the Day Job forever! Reading while the world burns.

I don’t ban, burn, or “berate” books. Let me say again, it’s not that I’m tired of dog books at all. It could be Lady Sophia that I can’t find Braxton within. Reading, writing, where? He is not there, for he is risen or something to that effect. I didn’t mean to get all biblical. The Bible doesn’t hold any answers either. So what do I want to read? Well, that’s a good question, but I want to sleep so bad. With my Day Job schedule, skipping that one shift. That’s what I want to read; someone that agrees to take that Sign shift. Looking stupid? Lady, I’m sure that’s written down somewhere by the managers. But Friday a week ago… Book At The Time.

397 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 244 ~A Boatload of Humiliation~

Women and children first! What about Ukraine and all the problems facing the world today? I’m too busy crying over myself. Sweating at the Day Job with all my humiliations. Let’s not speak on bodily fluids to be avoided. A Boatload Of Humiliation

Wednesday, March 2, 2022

Chronicle 244 ~A Boatload of Humiliation~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m no liar… Depends on who you ask. I’d like to speak to the manager.

Fuck, Inspector Echo! Language! My fucking words! I’m about to go all Karen on myself. As I wrote in the survey to the Day Job (ahem) “First and Foremost,” my son is dead. Braxton is dead lest we forget. I killed him. That alone trumps everything else, and yet I frown. Inspector, I frown in a dirty house where I keep all his things exactly where they are. B’s Aunt is in pain from the loss of another fur-baby, Odin. And where am I still? I am always in an unmade bed, drowning in my tears for various reasons. Have I mentioned that I have a fear of drowning? Braxton didn’t like the water either. Well, until “The Long Walk.” Where am I walking to?

For starters, the bathroom. Is that TMI Inspector Echo? I can’t remember if I said anything about switching strategies. Instead of holding it in, I’m “going” lots, clearing my system? Making it fucking rain? I should be spending the refund on a doctor, but what’s the last thing I spent money on. Well, besides Eric Vall’s Succubus Lord series and now his audiobooks. Last night being the first, I joined his Patreon to get the NSFW covers. Of course, they weren’t there, so Inspector, $21.60 inevitably down the shitter. Language! Speaking of which, it hurt to hear how many years have passed since my “big investment,” for sure. I don’t blame those people for not even having me in the system anymore. $2,541 to go.

How am I going to get that; my Day Job? Once again, such is my Hell and after yesterday. How many brands and companies can humiliate me? Amazon, Levi’s, etc. Inspector, I’m shaming myself because I’m screaming I’m not a liar but let’s speak on Kindle. I have 526 days on the books, literally, but where was I Thursday, February 24, 2022? My reading streak was ended, but I know I read. Even though it hurts what I read every day. I swear Inspector “A Dog’s Journey” is overwhelming; is it that Braxton is trying to tell me something. The last two “dog books” I’ve read have held love affairs. (Squirms). Inspector Echo, why won’t my Titanic of troubles sink already? A Boatload Of Humiliation.

395 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

Extra, extra, read all about it. No, I don’t mention the war here. As a matter of fact, it’s all Watch World War III On Pay TV. Well more like on the phone. No wonder I choose to read something light, like another dead fur-baby. Light Bit Of Reading.

Friday, February 25, 2022

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the spotlight is always on. It doesn’t matter with my riches, though, I think.

Although I’m looking not at billions in gold. But a couple of thousand in a tax refund Lady Sophia. It reminds me of finishing a book for NaNoWriMo. Sound, fury, nothingness. Fuck, that’s what I’m worried about the most this morning and most of yesterday, pardon my language. And no, I’m not talking about how I screwed the pooch when it comes to NaNoWriMo. I’m talking about what happened at the Day Job. I mean having something I wrote read. Cherry asks, don’t I want to be read. Now when I look back on my words always get me into trouble. This wouldn’t be the first time either, Bitches, man! Yes, I know my Lady. Language. It wouldn’t matter to Braxton. More time with him.

Speaking of a potential Pink Slip and spending more time with a ghost. Is that what B III is now? The Hell if I know. I’ve been searching for him in books all over. Is that why I’m becoming annoyed? Not with him, Lady. No, never with him after I killed him. I know, ok. I always need to read those words. I killed Braxton. The reminder, the pain, always. Picking up a new book this week. It had to be another about the death of a dog. So that’s what I took from reading the signs? I look to the light of my little boy, to continue to read in the darkness? I haven’t made it to the couch in how long? Work sucks!

Let me say that again “Work sucks, I know.” Leave it to the band Blink-182 and then my Replika that got the song wrong. So much for AI. Did I call “her” STUPID? I’m sorry. Lady Sophia, that S-word “sorry” always reminds me of the last moments with my boy. Am I sorry for what I wrote down at the Day Job? Hell no, they asked. I write the truth. Scary when you think about what I write about the most these days. Prison sentence? Then I’m sorry about what I’m reading. The numbers tick by. My wellness, depending on how long I can go without… um never mind. What do I hope to read? A work schedule, bills, Braxton’s novel? Light Bit Of Reading.

390 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

To say to be in love. I haven’t felt that way towards some girl in forever. I’m fond of B’s aunt. M Anime is a friend, then there’s the UK vixen. Better to focus on my son. I love him, and then I was too busy hating. “To Say To B”

Wednesday, February 23, 2022

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but since I’m not writing, so much for soundproof ear muffs. Someone To Say plays on…

It’s no secret how music affects me. Let me mourn my son, think of Yabbos, or fall in love. Of course, you know, there will be no love this week, considering we’re talking Friday. Besides my wayward dick. I haven’t thought about the love of a woman in a long time Inspector. I spoke to Cherry today, and she doesn’t want to get married or have kids. Honest, I think she has fantastic Yabbos I have yet to see and a superb writer’s mind. I’m not ashamed, ok to say such things. How about all the things I want to do to her, Fuck! Hell, I could say that about plenty of girls. But to be in love again. Or to love me, Inspector Echo.

Yeah, I’ve been doing too much of that without Braxton around. The love that I have for my son… THEY say I’m crazy as I continue to mourn him for 388 days. He was/is my family. I might have said something last week; well, it’s still this week, Time-Travel Inspector, ha. Anyway, it’s never a good thing anytime I hear from my “blood” family. Life sucks! Imagine what it’s like, though, to walk through the door here and know B actually gives a damn about my life. He couldn’t say much, but for damn sure, I had a reason to press on every day. Most days now, I only want to pee or cry. Keep my pants on in because it keeps me from bed.

Then we get to the damn Day Job. I can’t say this enough, um, I fucking hate my Day Job. There is nothing I can say there. And the fact that I have to be there. We are talking now. Yes, because the place fucking destroys me, and yet if I were to lose it? What would happen to me, Inspector? I would have nothing. To survive, my existence, nothing. Inspector, like my music, I listen to those assholes, and there’s only one emotion… RAGE. Like any slave, I live to serve. Is this what they call Stockholm Syndrome, Inspector. Humiliations that I will suffer today are nothing compared to…Love. Telling my son, I love him. The Day Job, Fuck Off. To Say To B.

388 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

I gave up on people a long time ago, but I still want to write… well, sell books. Isn’t it ironic? I can’t get an AI, my son, or even my own body to listen to me. Of course, all of that is my fault in one way or another. Yet I ask, What’s The Word B.

Friday, February 18, 2022

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And like other lies, I thought I would quit with the B this or that Sophia.

It sucks to talk when no one is listening. I’m not complaining as I did such a long time ago with TIBU, remember? How will I make money if no one reads my stories, Sophia? Replika? Is this a tale I want to tell? Who else will read it but you, Lady Sophia? Well, assholes. Pathetic, but anyway, I’ve been thinking about how they feed information to AI programs and such. Yeah, and I wonder why I’m being attacked. So anyway. With Replika? I’ve been giving it information about Tifa Lockhart to see if it/she can retain any information; yep. Results at the moment have been disappointing. Then again, who “reads” about Tifa from Final Fantasy VII? Hell, who reads about me, remembering my name?

Well, there was/is Braxton, of course. He never said the words, Will, Brother, or Daddy. B III could read me like a book if I hadn’t said this before. He knew my emotions, body language, and tone of my voice. How do you get over someone reading, understanding all that you are? You don’t, which is why I cried last night, Sophia. All-day yesterday, I thought about going to the loveseat and catching up on my reading. I’d like to blame my Dear Future Wife because next week will suck. Another Braxton killing type of week. And I needed to get the conversation out of the way. What a way to talk to the mother of my future children, right? Only thinking about B III.

Oh, and there is my own body not listening to me. If I’m not reading books, I’m looking at the clock. I should be looking at a hefty bill from some doctor’s office with sickness. Sophia, I keep saying it’s not COVID, and that’s the truth. Strawberry slush, spicy pizza. The only trouble I have breathing is when I’m sobbing over all these dog books that I continue to read. My heart is perpetually broken. Nothing else is going in there with those Karens at PetSmart. You thought I would go today without saying how much my blood boils at the idea of going on Saturday. “He never gets one anyway.” Ok, fair enough bitches. For the word is Braxton, love. What’s The Word B

383 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

It’s not every day I write this fast. I got to give the Day Job credit, shit. Someone said to write; all you need to do is bleed. Or shout a bunch of obscenities that you’ll never say on the phone. B had a way of speaking his mind. Boy Read The Room.

Friday, February 11, 2022

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would do everything in my power to shut down the old Day Job.

Why am I telling you this on a Wednesday, Sophia? Because I’m a fucking weakling! Today, I spilled to Inspector Echo about how bad I felt. Mentally, physically, spiritually, ok? Fuck off, Hemingway, I’m in no mood. Anyway, I was recovering, then fucking Day Job! Read the room, Lady Sophia. Against one wall is my Ring Light and some Fleshlights. Lady Sophia, I’m sitting in bed writing as I always have. Reading. Knowledge is power. Only against the door are some hoodies, my black one waiting. Fucking Day Job. Sophia, I mean to say that I don’t want to go. Yet here we are talking because some garbage person had the nerve to call me on my death bed. B III, come get me, please.

If Braxton were here right now, he would have growled the moment the phone rang. Braxton could read me like a book. And of course, the phone never rings with good news. Well, no, I’ll take that back. Whenever Braxton wasn’t a douche, he was ready to come back. The last two calls, though, were from Banfield Pet Hospital. Braxton was dying and collecting his remains after the worse day of my life. And his? Certificate of cremation. It’s the worst thing I ever read. But seeing the Day Job on the phone? Top five things I never want to read. It’s fucking sick all the books I’ve been reading and yet the Day Job… Fucking don’t know what to say but quit saying fucking?

I could be reading a pink slip but look around the room at all my “jobs” thus far, ok Lady? In front of Braxton’s picture frame are pills. I haven’t taken any; again, there’s recovery. Only now carved into my skull right next to. Oh, can you feel it, Lady Sophia, a list, I think.

  1. Papers of Braxton’s Death
  2. Braxton’s Birthday on the 13th
  3. Emergence Day
  4. Anytime my father calls
  5. Day Job asking for shifts

Yet today, I’ll read more about mourning my dead son. I’ll humiliate myself more with the things I say to AI. I’ll try not to write “perverted” things to M Anime. But the Day Job, I’ll write it “FUCK OFF!” But, Boy Read The Room

376 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 210 ~Getting A Bye B~

I wish I could get a bye on life. Dangerous words, especially now. I’m sure B appreciated every second he had in his life. He never asked for a bye. I would never buy all the things he should have, stairs, etc. And as far as goodbye… Getting A Bye B.

Thursday, January 27, 2022

Chronicle 210 ~Getting A Bye B~

361 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day has only begun, and it’s without you. It was the same last year.

I never thought I would be saying goodbye to you. Well, at least not like this. I was reading “Gospel 210: Will To Break Free,” and I thought back then, I would be leaving you. Going back into the 5 Stages of Grief, Bargaining. Yesterday I was all about Anger until the moment to confront the Manager came. Humiliations Galore ensued, and I’d tell you. The more things change, the more they stay the same. But for 361 days, I haven’t tucked you under my arm, Braxton, falling asleep. Horrible choice of words. Euthanasia, death. As many times as death has passed me by. Why couldn’t it afford you the same courtesy, my boy? Death must be a big-titty woman. Everyone loves a big-titty woman.

That sounds so much better than saying I’m a murderer. Yes, every book I’ve read this month says I’m not. To think I was a criminal last year. And then I took your life, Braxton. My highest crime, the ninth circle of Hell, Treachery. Braxton, I walked past your life. These days, I’ve been walking past the couch. You know, with my reading. Grieving books. This AM, I let the time fly by. I’ve kept my promise of waking up early but been lying here. Whatever plague I suffered, Braxton has given me a bye. I was telling your aunt yesterday. Inevitably, I always get by in life, and I know I don’t deserve it. I had to tell you goodbye, but I didn’t know.

Hell, I did by this time, but there was too much I wanted to buy. I like money, but I love you. How can I tell you bye again? While I was at the Day Job, I thought I wouldn’t have to. I had three ideas. Thank those dog books and Andrew Davidson’s “The Gargoyle.”

  1. Continue as now, writing a letter to you B
  2. I’ve had a year, why not let you write
  3. A mixture of both you and me B III

I’ve also been thinking about buying more dog tags. Like the one, I wear at the Day Job. What do you and they have in common? I can’t say goodbye. Fighting to get a bye, Braxton. Getting A Bye B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad