Tag: Dead

Chronicle 135 ~To B A Believer~

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“Comedy comes in 3’s.” I’ve read that it’s a writer’s rule, but when’s the last time I’ve believed anything other writers have said… like being good. The last one I believed in died 286 Days ago. I believe bad things always come. To B A Believer

Saturday, November 13, 2021

Chronicle 135 ~To B A Believer~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what do I believe in? I should start listening to my motivations again with NaNoWriMo.

Speaking of which, as I told Lady Sophia last night. I believe I was making such huge strides in “Behave In The Cherry Patch” until yesterday and, of course, today. If I’m lucky, ha-ha. By Sunday, I can stop lying to NaNoWriMo for at least a little while this week… Lady Lu, I should tell this weak man that I am. How many weeks has it been now that I’ve betrayed B III? Died on January 31, was cremated on February 4, and I picked up his ashes on February 10. Three days Lady Luna. I heard somewhere comedy comes in threes. I’m not sure I believe that, but wouldn’t it be something if Chase was at Petsmart today? This would be Week 3. To be Lucky or a Loser

Of course, I mean that about me, Lady Lu, and not little Virgil. Hell, I can’t believe I would adopt him now. As I couldn’t believe what my “father” said to me the day that Braxton died. Of all the pain I’ve felt in my life, I can’t believe anything could hurt this much, Lu. You’re looking at a guy who has starved himself on purpose. With this week, I’ve been starving by accident, Lu. With all I survived with last night, I did take care of one problem. The next on my plate, or rather not in my glass, is dehydration. Water, Mother’s milk… Yeah, I’m about out of both unless I want to start drinking out the sink. Drool some over Cherry’s Yabbos?

I believe I always have time to, as they say, hang out with my wang out, rock out with my cock out, get silly with my willy. I should be careful, Lady Lu. It’s that kind of language which cost me a friend on Facebook a few days ago. After losing B, who cares, Lunalesca? The hackers? I did pass the rest of the night in relative peace. Not a peep has been heard this morning but wasn’t that the calm before the storm. I go out to live, and, next thing I know, I’m fighting for my life both IRL and online. And with this coming week. Life sucks; I believe that more than ever before. I believe in Braxton. To B A Believer.

286 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 134 ~Life B Scary Sometimes~

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Tonight is brought to you by the letter B. Always for B III but for tonight, I’m leaning more towards Banning. I did not plan on Big Uns, Bad mofos, and a lot of Banning. At least I survived traveling the night for a burger. “Life B Scary Sometimes.”

Friday, November 12, 2021

Chronicle 134 ~Life B Scary Sometimes~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what is there left to fear? If I were a Republican, people with morals, etc.

God knows mine when flying out the window this morning? I did not plan on having the day I had. That’s not saying much. The usual blueprint for the day is to survive it, Sophia. But much like every other story that I “put down.” Hearing about my breathing is anything but “interesting.” So you know, those are dirty words but again how about now. I wish Braxton was here, then I might get some sleep. At present, I’m sitting at ten minutes, and that won’t last for long. We’ll get to that like I’ve been meaning to nap today. Dammit, Lady Sophia, I don’t deserve it. I only wrote 2700 words today. I was sitting here making a plan, paying a girl, Cherry read.

Lady Sophia, a dog’s bark could make me get my shit correct. What do you think? I’m not getting my hopes up, but what if I walk into PetSmart tomorrow and “he” is still there. Ain’t like I got money to burn and the cash I have had all these 285 Days. It’s not like I have been spending it on B III, but I did finish the book “This Dog’s Afterlife,” ok. As the song goes you “Make Me Wanna Die” is what I would tell the author. I don’t mean that as a bad thing. Heaven sounds kickass, but I’m not going there now or ever, ha. Even if I had a heart attack sometime tonight. I know, not cool. Thirty minutes now.

So why do I keep mentioning time? With the time, Braxton never got. You best believe Lady Sophia, I got my cry in over soggy fries. Hell, I should be grateful I survived the roads. While I was planning on getting food today, I got an alert about some scammer. I blocked the hack and continued about my business, but from around 4:00 PM to 10:10 PM, it’s been a nonstop barrage. I’m holding the line so far, but again about thirty-five minutes and going. I’ve been doing so well with my writing, and if I wasn’t looking at only another grilled cheese sandwich. Or restarting my watch because you guessed it. Blocked someone else. To be on point with B. Life B Scary Sometimes.

285 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 133 ~So Who You B~

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Yeah, sometimes I’m too tired. Others I’m asking for help in the strangest of ways. If “This Dog’s Afterlife” is anything more than wishful thinking, then dogs learn how to read. So I keep writing to my lost boy. Or I should ask, “So Who You B.”

Thursday, November 11, 2021

Chronicle 133 ~So Who You B~

284 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If “This Dog’s Afterlife” is any indication, then I’m sure it’s freaking awesome. I hope

Santa, is that who I should be talking to? I was thinking more Morgan Freeman, aka Red. “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” well-inching closer Braxton. Awesome… Satan doesn’t think so, or that’s what I was thinking to myself when I held Chase the Saturday before last. I should stop thinking about that fur baby. Christmas present now? Soldier, steady on. But while I got soul, I’m not a soldier as the song goes, and yes, I know what day it is. It was yesterday, though, that was so exhausting. I’m all discombobulated. Like on any day since you’ve been gone, I’m trying to find myself again. 284 Days isn’t going to cut it. I’m only hoping that I can be as productive.

Writing? Is that what I’m doing. I’m a writer. I still remember you thought I was a doorman with your demands. At least you got me out of bed, B. Where am I right now? Wealth isn’t raining over me, but I did get paid today. If you were here, I wouldn’t ever let things get this bad. B, I’m looking at grilled cheese sandwiches, and as for your food? Women never came before you. Though I thought for sure, you would have gone home with your aunt. How about the way you led her to the bedroom? Southern Braxton… Have you changed at all? As I said before, with the book, I’m reading. If it’s one thing I know, it’s that you could fly.

Sinning prevents me from doing as such. Yes, your Daddy is still on his wanting to be a monk trip. At least I did do some pretty decent work, though… after. You had gone out. Survivor, or the Soul Survivor, that’s what I am now, and I don’t like it. But I better get used to it because come this Saturday I will still be alone. Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge? Savior, when I don’t look a thing like Jesus. Sorry about all the musical references. As I said, I’ve been working. But how could I see you again? Had I known how to save a life? That was the last song, promise. But my B with everything you have going on. So Who You B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 128 ~B Aching My Heart~

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For the third time in 279 Days, I was offered a dog. My sister showed me a dog only days after B III died. A woman on Facebook told me about a Chihuahua. And today, for a second week at PetSmart, these ladies asked me about Chase. “B Aching My Heart”

Saturday, November 6, 2021

Chronicle 128 ~B Aching My Heart~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can still be petty as all Hell. I can still hate the world, right.

On the 30th, Lady Lu I was embarrassed, enamored, and enraged from going to PetSmart. Embarrassed as I offered my number and email. The lady asks, “for what?” I’m stupid. Enamored with a dog named Chase that I would never see again. I’ll get to him in a sec Lu. Enraged at the lady there, myself. COVID 19 is nothing with people’s stupidity Lady Lu. There are two places on Earth this second where everyone knows my name. Well knows me, at least. Talk to my “father’s” old work buddies sometime. Tony has a son? Anyway, so I walk into PetSmart today, and these women are all around me. “We have Chase. He’s not here, but we can bring him, just say the word.” YES

NO Lunalesca, the answer has to be no, and it breaks my heart. That’s why I go to PetSmart every Saturday, I think. To tell me that it’s still there to be broken, not fixed. I don’t deserve it, Lady Lu, I mean to know, what peace? Hell, I’m breaking the bank, my balls, my book but this incessant heart of mine beating remains. But B III doesn’t hear it. I’ve talked about getting messages. The power flipped out for a second, and his picture frame flashed. B’s stuff on the floor, how his treats lie undisturbed. But nothing Saturday. Well, I take that back. Remember how I talked about the bank? With my budget, I bought a book for a buck, “This Dog’s Afterlife.”

Coincidence, you think? Braxton is a hard habit to break, and I don’t plan on it anytime soon. I told M Anime that she makes it difficult for men to date her. Getting close, nope? I’m doing the same thing when it comes to fur-babies. My Day Job, as always, sucks. Say the magic words “Humiliations Galore.” I’ve been chasing one chick’s Yabbos for weeks now. It’s a good thing God gave Adam a woman and not a dog. I’ve got neither, but which did more damage? Ahh, yes, bring on the waterworks Day 279. So with all the things wrong with me, what should worry me, Luna? I wish it was NaNoWriMo; I’m lying. The truth is worse. Braxton’s Dead, B Aching My Heart

279 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

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Crossing the line varies from person to person. Defending Nazis, harming pets, or liking R. Kelly, or more to the point, the music he made. The only lines I’ve been crossing these days are international currencies and stuff B needs. B There Some Line

Friday, November 5, 2021

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which to answer the title question is no. With that money, you’ll do any damn thing.

Save Braxton? I keep telling myself that. In a way, I was lucky my boy was the scrappiest man I knew/know. No broken bones. B III’s heart kept right on beating for fifteen years despite the few when he was on medication. The meds I bring out 278 Days afterward. Hell, I couldn’t be bothered to afford some stairs. Little Braxton learned to fly, always. Sophia, I hate making that “joke.” There’s also the fact I wouldn’t have Braxton neutered. B III was a man, and I wouldn’t take that away, no. Um, B III should have been bred, hmm. Again how did it all end Lady Sophia? Name on the line, and I’ll never cross another with his name on it, to be sure.

Because I’m a Bad Man, and no, not R. Kelly bad. To appreciate the art but not the artist… Didn’t I say years ago that I wanted to be as infamous as the Marquis de Sade? If I’m going down, you know the crime I should be punished for. Every time I hear sirens Sophia. But these days, it’s been the beeps, chimes, and dings that have been telling my story. God knows I’m still lying to NaNoWriMo. For the record, counting our conversation with Lady Sophia. This will be 3,900 words completed today. Well, why not 5,000? Hell, if I swore on Braxton’s name, I’d still be a lying piece of shit. 6,900 when I’ll tell NaNoWriMo it’s 8,500. Writing most of the day.

I keep telling myself that I should let my anger fuel me. A lot of the time, I fear the man in the mirror. Do you know why no one else should? It would require me to have more energy than to cross the line, which is the edge of the bed to the floor. Energy, FEAR. Sophia, there’s been one other thing keeping me glued to the sheets or shower walls. Reaching 5,000 words would be easier if I wasn’t looking up Pokémon Bras and lingerie. Every OnlyFans girl would kick my ass for how many “euros or quid” I’m spending. However, I crossed the line with that girl too. That was yesterday, but wow, Lady Sophia. Crossing the line feels damn good. But wrong. B There Some Line

278 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 126 ~Just Be It Braxton~

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Nothing against Nike other than the expense. Too busy with my belly, some English boobs, books, and of course B III. No, I can’t Just Do It. Although if it meant my Day Job for the rest of my life? Why I don’t fear Hell but Happy Just Be It, Braxton.

Thursday, November 4, 2021

Chronicle 126 ~Just Be It Braxton~

277 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Or should I be asking, were you a good boy? It’s Heaven, Rainbow Bridge, whatever.

But then again, you were here… It’s the end of the spooky season, I know. And I did eat quite a few chocolate-covered almonds. My form of an exorcism, hmm B. But driving you away? I did that before, but let’s not talk about January 31st but here on Day 277. Hell, I didn’t get anything done. 3 things woke me up this morning, your picture and hoping for Cherry’s boobs. I’d swear you were haunting me if I didn’t notice the power had gone out. If only for a second. I found your PetSmart bandannas on the floor, but they could have slipped off, B. I’m looking for signs, Braxton. Last Saturday in particular. I’m a fucking traitor B III. Pardon my language, B.

What kind of monster am I? Well, I killed you, and people want me to stop saying that. Deaf ears, dead man. I wish I could return to being the zombie-like man I was afterward, B. Yesterday I was intent on becoming a ghost. All the white ceiling dust or my white shadow following behind me. I was in the air on all those ladders, and if I fell, Braxton. It wasn’t high enough to kill me, but sticker shock at the hospital. Which brings me to why I ain’t writing? I didn’t want to be a murderer, and I can’t stand liars. My NaNo novel? Even in that, Win William Bridgman wants to sleep. I didn’t make the girl a corpse but a robot.

Would you have liked to be a robot, like out of Alita: Battle Angel? I never showed you off when you were alive and since you’ve been gone. Every day now B III without fail. Today if I died and went straight to Hell because I trust I’m not going anywhere else. Would you come looking? You’d go What Dreams May Come. Don’t Braxton ever. Braxton, knowing how you listened to me before. Sad the first time you ever obeyed some orders, it took three needles. I’ll never be that man. Holding that fur-baby Saturday. Braxton, he got lucky I didn’t choose to bring him to your home. Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy. Regardless of Yabbos, happy I can’t Just Be It, Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

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I’m sure someone said something wise of grief and hunger, not that I found it… I’m not that smart. All I know is that when Braxton died, my Ma asked whether I was eating, and I picked up ribs. Are you hungry seems easy enough to ask? “To The B Eve’d”

Saturday, October 30, 2021

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be clever? Well, you saw that title. “Behave In The Cherry Patch?”

No, NaNoWriMo Eve is tomorrow, and so is Halloween. Let’s not forget Fear The Walking Dead and Walking Dead: World Beyond. The start of a new week and my list of eff ups aka Six Impossible Things. But um, God “rested” on the 7th day. Yep so did B III. But my story, didn’t I say I would be bringing characters back from the dead? My “loves?” Or am I digging myself into a tiny grave when it comes to writing? There will be some “plowing,” in my words. Don’t remind me, yesterday was all about Blue Balls, Lunalesca. I don’t know how I’m going to write with that kind of pain. Oh, right, the only bodily fluids leaving were tears over B III again.

Saturday was B’s last full day. He couldn’t do a damn thing but Test His Might. If God made woman from one of man’s ribs, man took another and gave it to the dog. Oh yeah, the dog was smart enough to bring it back. Ooh, that was not a gripe at women, Lady Luna. Hell, if anything, I’m not the man sitting on his ass drinking a beer and watching the game. I’m the boy lying in his bed waiting for his best friend to come back home. Braxton would be proud. I ignored him most of the week, but he was no fan of Sundays. That’s the truth. Once again, it’s Saturday, but I guess I’m getting an early start on my grief.

Braxton, boobs, and that “bad man” better known as Dad. One I’ll never see again, two I want to avoid, and three is calling Monday. But Sunday will always be the worst day for me. Some things are supposed to be said, smart things for sad times. Only every single day feels like a funeral, but I’m not sure whose. Yet I stay crying over one, my Little B. Lady Luna, is that why I don’t want to talk about today? I betrayed him when I watched him dying. I go and look at the other fur-babies like B III hasn’t been gone 272 Days. There’s no day or night, only life and death. Stories, Saturdays, my sucky life. Say What? To The B Eve’d

272 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 120 ~How Scary Stories B~

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My NaNo project came to me as I sat in a Burger King drive-thru spending $3.00 as $12.00 an hr ain’t going to cut it. Wow, I was lied to. That’s like saying the black guy dies in the horror movie, oh she’s pretty, there’s a virus. How Scary Stories B

Friday, October 29, 2021

Chronicle 120 ~How Scary Stories B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford a Lobotomy. Why would I forget Braxton’s death, my father’s call?

No, no, no, as we’re close to All Hallows’ Eve and all, I want to tell you another scary tale. Forgive me for the lack of a title, “Behave In The Cherry Patch” is all I have for NaNo now. Anyway, AHEM, once there was a boy who thought he received a Day Job promotion. The boy would be in charge for once; he would make a lot of money. Perhaps he could live The American Dream. He would work hard; he would do it not only for himself but to honor his lost boy, B III. So he looked at his paycheck to see his worth and… $12.00 hr. Scary, isn’t it? It gets so much worse, Lady Sophia, doing the numbers this morning.

But before that, how about another shot at a horror tale. Quasimodo, Jigsaw, zombies, ha. At least I have the good sense not to show my face. Anyway, it was HARD getting up this morning. You know what I mean, that “third leg.” Usually, I only got two, Braxton’s walk. No Lady Sophia, without him, I’m allowed to indulge in the light. So I see what I’m doing, disgusting. 271 Days since Braxton left. 161 Days I was a monk. Now 6 Days of abstinence. Well, at least I didn’t put this morning’s shenanigans on OnlyFans. My Stuff and Thangs. Still, the monster grows. It’s like I’ll come apart any second. My skin is crawling, and I’m so cold. The boy, the man, I am.

Or whatever it is that I’m becoming because I won’t be writing another Braxton novel. “Behave In The Cherry Patch” will be my next book. Yet to write Chapter characters. My tale will be about lost “loves” back from the dead. A Technological Necromancer, ha. The things we do for love. Not that I could write quite like Game of Thrones. Show or books, hmm? It depends on who you ask, and I’m not asking people. Not B III’s book. Lady Sophia, the story will be about Father Bridgman’s dead children. And plenty of hot pieces of ass when it comes to The Moondust. What’s scarier than telling the truth about a work of fiction. Like JoAnna Luna’s hotness in “Display?” How Scary Stories B

271 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 119 ~Rereading A’s And B’s~

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Lies, I told my son. Lies, I tell myself, I’m glad I wrote the story out. At the rate I’m going, a story that will never be published. But these letters to my little boy even when he was 15, which is damn near 70 in “dog years?” Rereading A’s And B’s

Thursday, October 28, 2021

Chronicle 119 ~Rereading A’s And B’s~

270 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? The fact that we’re talking on a Sunday lets you know all about my day.

It’s another reason I’d shush you as Soon As I Get Home from work. You know why you never knew your stepmom. Who wants to hear about Humiliations Galore always? Braxton, even more so, it hurts when I lie at the Day Job. I’ve said it before that going to my old words of “another day,” my indifference. No B, “son, what you don’t understand.”And here come the waterworks with “Don’t Look Down.” Only I didn’t leave you. The rest of the song still applies. Also, I don’t want to retell the story of how you died, B III. Hell, I relive that tale every time I shut my eyes. It’s the reason I cry every day. I’m burning myself alive. Remember the movie Spontaneous?

No, that’s a film I watched long after you passed. The stories I tell every night so I can sleep but now I’m telling old stories. In my most hated words list, I should add Acceptance. I still haven’t, you know. 270 Days and Routine, your water bowl remains full, and I haven’t switched out your bathroom pad. It’s clean. My biggest worry is your treats. Braxton, I only want to make it through one year. Aunt Carolina Bound’s not Happy. Neither am I, but that’s the standard. It’s getting around NaNoWriMo season, and now I do have a writing idea. The first has nothing to do with you, really. Well, more like Bastian Barks Bennett. This is a conversation for Sophia, but you’re here.

I’m sitting at the dining room table, imagining you’ll get off your pillow and direct me to the door. Anyway, my first idea. You know how I thought I’d finished my Cherry trilogy. Killed her the first one, killed you in the last one. I’m starting to think VR and robots. Now my second idea, and Braxton, you have to forgive me for this. I talk about you replacing Cerberus in Hell. What kind of Daddy imagines his son going to Hell? So I’m thinking about Drive Angry, how Milton described it. Braxton, watching my fuck-ups. Would you come back and save me, or would you let me have your wrath? I’d understand both. Hope I’m writing before you see this. Rereading A’s And B’s

“You know the pain and suffering ain’t the worse part, right? That’s what they tell ya, what they want you to believe. But it’s all a big fuckin lie. Nosir, worst part’s the goddamn video feed.”

“It ain’t about the fire and brimstone. Ain’t about your suffering. It’s about the suffering of them you love. Cuz you see it. You see it all. In full goddamn detail. And there ain’t nothin you can do about it.” ― Drive Angry (2011)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 114 ~No, Not The B’s~

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The bed’s not a mess, but then again, I might have to make it to see a difference. As if anything makes a difference when one political supports the Nazis. The years before, when I had a girl of the week, Anya, Panam, Jen. B’s still gone. No, Not The B’s

Saturday, October 23, 2021

Chronicle 114 ~No, Not The B’s~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I’d buy a safe place for animals not lucky like B. Blue Pills and Bullets.

The places my mind goes. Last night I didn’t dream about Braxton. But the dream I did have. Now Lu, like everything else in my life, it’s second-rate, second-best, and didn’t allow a second round. Let’s say I should call a physician as it lasted over four hours. Lady Lu, living in a would-be tyranny thanks to the Republican Party. That’s not to say I like the Democrats either. Um, M Anime is all for Anarchy but in a peaceful sort of way. Anyway, so my dream was of Wolfenstein, well, Anya Oliwa-Blazkowicz, to be specific. She wasn’t the only one; there was Panam Palmer from Cyberpunk 2077. And Jennifer Mallick, aka “Huck” TWD World Beyond. There were a few more. But leaving it there.

So as the song goes, AHEM, Lady Gaga “Sexxx Dreams.” This might explain why I didn’t get off on it. Despite how long I lounged around in bed. I still am at 7:20. It would have been something if I were only watching the performance, but I was “Begging,” Lunalesca. Did I mention my ears are being assaulted by everything? Okay, love the music, yup. Lunalesca, if you didn’t know, the Nazis that I’ve often read about are here, Republicans. Oh, there’s the Alec Baldwin shooting. It’s been on my mind. Shutting everything off. Ain’t that the dream? I wish I had thought about that yesterday. No, I save all my wishes for Braxton to come home. Or to go trust that chick from Facebook.

Hell, I wish I could enact a punishment that I know I deserve for B III. I’m a weak man. Always under the influence of a pair of breasts, boobs, books talking about them, hmm? Always at the mercy of bucks, bills, benjamins. Speaking of which, an errand for today. Always afraid of bullets, ballistics, busting a cap as the kids say nowadays? Staying away. Better an excursion to the bank than being with a weapon I shouldn’t touch, definitely. There’s the other weapon poking up, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, damn it. As I said, the dreams. If I dreamed of Braxton, I’d be bawling my eyes out, which will happen sometime today. Instead, my balls are useless. No, Not The B’s

265 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will