Chronicle 062 ~B As In Building~

The things that September brings to mind. Buildings, birthdays, my B, but to be honest, B is daily. I’ll have to write him another book, not like I ever published the first one. The things I’m trying to build in my country but then… B As In Building

Wednesday, September 1, 2021

Chronicle 062 ~B As In Building~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that doesn’t take an A student or B. What about C. Who am I kidding.

But grades are a thing of the past for me. Why am I even talking about me now, Echo? You know I hate that concept of somebody having it worse than you. When I was 17, what did I have to be worried about? The more things change, the more they stay the same. Inspector Echo, it’s the 1st of the month, and unlike all the others, where do I begin, my dear? Birthdays, Buildings, Braxton’s dinner. Which would be my dinner, but B III is my boy. Inspector, in particular, I need him for one day out of 365 because he would never say those dreaded words. Hell, I shouldn’t even be telling on myself, but I’ve been building today, my dear Inspector Echo.

No, I don’t mean at the Day Job, and yes, I’m ashamed that I’ve wasted ten years of my life. Today is Sunday, August 29, 2021. Welcome To The Suck. Again I shouldn’t be speaking like some soldier. Such were the events that took place in the U.S.A. this month. Inspector, if I want to be a more horrible human being and American, how about this? While I’m proud to be an American and God Bless The U.S.A., you know I’ll have to say something to Lady Lu. But when I compare the 11th to January 31st, what’s worst? Should I stick to today, which is Sunday? As I told the Man In The Mirror, I found more energy for “Stuff And Thangs” this afternoon.

I don’t know what I’m trying to build, which of course, is so wonderful (sarcasm). Inspector, if anything, now is the time to once again take stock and building a life. One more time letting the cat out of the bag. Inspector, I’ll be 37 shortly and what is there. These days are filled with hoping I have enough for an Emergence Day meal next week. I did take time off from the Day Job, which might be why this week must suck. What about a list for “Stuff And Thangs” on Amazon, but who knows with my current building? How far am I behind reading my latest book and betraying my son? I could write another novel for B III. B As In Building

213 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 058 ~Braxton’s Vigil, My Virgil~

Am I going to have to write this whole dream out (yeah)? Well, if another fur baby came walking into my life, I have names. A boy “Virgil,” a girl “Beatrice,” which isn’t fair at all. Neither is waking up at 1:30 in the AM. Braxton’s Vigil, My Virgil

Saturday, August 28, 2021

Chronicle 058 ~Braxton’s Vigil, My Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but yesterday, “a day which will live in infamy.” I found I wasted ten damn years.

No disrespect to soldiers or even Sci-Fi as I was telling Carolina Bound and M Anime. My Day Job is a mix between going to Nam and being dropped into The Tomorrow War. Add to that being trapped and drowning. How do I survive? I had a son, my Braxton. Friday, August 27, 2021, hell Luna. I had B longer than I have been working in well, Hell. Then I wonder why I’m not running as fast home or to my writing. Hell is what I deserve. I believe that’s why I had that nightmare, but we’ll get to that. The Day Job, my God. Every time I go in the name of the game is this, don’t get fired. When Hell freezes over, right?

I thought I was dead last night. Some time ago, talking to Carolina Bound, I asked did she ever have a dream that she knew was a dream. With my own visions, it happened again. I found I was surrounded by people, so I unleashed black tendrils that were electrified. Them my sister was behind me, looking over my shoulder while I was looking at porn. You know the type. What I pay for, get creators kicked off platforms, foreign influences, etc. Next um, a phone rang, it wasn’t mine, ok Lu. At 1:30 AM, I’m “strapped,” as kids say. I’m stalking around the house, listening for the sound. Usually, this is Braxton’s job. If it’s “serious” again, I get my “gat.” Protecting us always.

So I fall back asleep, trying to dream of the guns in Far Cry 5. The monster gets in the house anyway (dreaming), and it’s my father carrying a dog made out of jelly beans. He looks like Braxton only, color coated, and I see B III on the floor. So the candy dog’s new. As I pull off jelly beans, there’s a furry dog underneath, orange, but the fur begins turning Braxton’s shade. Days go by, the dog becomes more and more like B but begins to shrink too. Like destroying/taking the Mind Stone from Vision, Wanda, or Thanos? Braxton is gone. If the dream and/or nightmare says anything, another dog, no, I can’t. But it’s Saturday. Petsmart then groceries? Braxton’s Vigil, My Virgil.

209 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 055 ~I B Seeing Ya~

Last week I spoke of crying, and if tears were cash, I’d be literally swimming in it. But I sweat at the Day Job, I would’ve given blood for Braxton, I did on occasion, and now a reverse on Onlyfans. But I’m not crying over that. “I B Seeing Ya”

Wednesday, August 25, 2021

Chronicle 055 ~I B Seeing Ya~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that’s something I want people to see. More I wish Braxton was alive to see.

I was reminded Monday that B watched me waste a decade of my life. Ten years, his Daddy, his best friend, his “person,” came home haywire, hurt, and hate-filled. There is not one day, no, not one that this wasn’t true. Unless I walked in then back out or yelled. He never minded, but now I find out that somebody else has. I’m a scary dude Inspector Echo. Most days, if I can be only a TIRED black man instead of a STUPID one or ANGRY. I would call that a win. I’m trying to remember those times B III saw me at peace, SIGH. I’ve said before that I don’t blame Banfield Pet Hospital. I’m guilty; I’m a murderer. But then ten years Inspector.

Braxton had 15+ and of those first five. Hell, how long was I with my Olds? I must have been twenty-one when I first met my son. As much as I want to say it was my rage at the Day Job, how can I account for wasting thirty-six years of my life? Almost thirty-seven. Um, my Olds, to the Day Job supervisors and managers, even Carolina Bound sometimes. From praise, to pardon, to pain, what they must think about me. I need earbuds. To know, the one I love the most as far as his opinion of me never spoke a single word Echo. Inspector, I imagine he’s as dedicated to watching me. Like, my sister had him watching the Disney Channel. I’m Onlyfans

You know me, I would do anything to get out of another day at the Day Job. Anything but yeah, publish a book or stop punishing my penis. Graphic, um, I’m sorry Echo for that. To think I saved that for the shower. Or when Braxton was on punishment, playing in the sun, or preaching to the neighbors. Inspector, there’s the news today from OnlyFans. Braxton is watching me be late enough as it is. Talking to you, but at least I’m not in bed. Didn’t I say something before about WWBD (What Would Braxton Do). Dad’s wasting his life. I can say for 15+ I found myself capable of loving one with everything, Echo. How To Save A Life… Braxton, I B Seeing Ya.

“I keep asking God what I’m for
And he tells me “Gee, I’m not sure.” Alan Menken, Skid Row (Downtown)

206 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 051 ~To B A Winner~

As the song goes, why do the things I hate come so naturally? In that case, I should learn to hate winning because losing is pretty easy. Hate my job; keep it. Love my dog, lose him. Writing is the one thing in balance… “To B A Winner”

Saturday, August 21, 2021

Chronicle 051 ~To B A Winner~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but is that enough? Should I look up a trillionaire? Start with getting up on time.

Sure, when it comes to the Day Job that I hate. Earlier in the week, I set my alarms wrong, but I wanted to do something with my life, honest to God. But I made it to the Day Job. When it comes to disparaging myself. Oh no, I mustn’t be late for that. We only started talking, Luna, but how long will it be before I say something ugly about myself, I ask you? I killed my son. There it is, and how long has it been since I said that? We’re on Day 202. Living with Betrayal, Ninth Circle Treachery. I didn’t tell you last week about PetSmart. I’m sure I told one of the girls and Carolina Bound. Saturdays, PetSmart brings dogs.

I love Braxton. B III can’t be replaced. I can do my best Yoda impression or perhaps Mace Windu “he’s too old.” Of course, I’m talking about the dogs, more like he’s too big, hmm. B III spoiled me for small dogs and, in particular, Chihuahuas. An acquaintance offered me one, but you don’t start a conversation with “Where do you live.” Trust No One. Dammit, we’re not even having this conversation. I could find something else to do today. Yesterday I finally got to my Inbox. I could write about “Soulmates.” Finish a book. Think about my finances. Everyone’s predicting the end of days with OnlyFans. The new rules. It’s not like I made a dime. My mourning did cost me a pretty penny.

Not in a good way either, considering me being a monk and all and then not. I swear, everyone figured 2021 was going to be a new start. I’d kill to have 2020. Braxton was lived. But now, there is my fear of leaving the house. Agoraphobia; my Walmart accident. There’s what I was working on yesterday when everything I do should be for Braxton. Lady Luna, do I ever want to sign my name again to take on another life? After my B III. In the end, it doesn’t matter what I do. I write and never publish. Take my clothes off and so much for “Stuff And Thangs.” The one I love dies. It’s lonely at the top, but To B A Winner.

202 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 048 ~B Rating My Tears~

My father would kick my ass for crying. I don’t remember the last time I cried, and it wasn’t about B III. 199 days now, and every single one, there have been some tears. At least it’s a moment in time I’m not sleeping my life away. B Rating My Tears

Wednesday, August 18, 2021

Chronicle 048 ~B Rating My Tears~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be making a good start if my tears cost a dollar at least.

A penny for my thoughts, but I’m not The Band Perry. If I Die Young, no such luck. I’m an old man Inspector Echo and once again repeating myself, so was Braxton. But he is always my baby. Every thought, well okay, that’s a lie but plenty, bring the waterworks. The same week I was finishing an A.J. Markham novel; I also read The Last Astronaut by Chris Dietzel. Short story made shorter, it’s about a man fleeing into space because of a cat. THEY say no one can hear you scream. Now, most of the story people couldn’t or wouldn’t. I know you must be getting sick of me talking about it. Here I am on a Sunday afternoon, knowing What Hurts The Most.

The Band Perry and now Rascal Flatts. If I wanted to cry today, I would listen to He’s My Son. I’ve already had my cry session today out of the blue. I should be ashamed when it comes to “Stuff And Thangs.” How about whatever humiliation happened Day Job wise. I’m writing this early after realizing how easy it would be to put up a gallery about Braxton, and I haven’t on Day 199. At least I know what I’ll be crying about on Thursday. 200 Days without Braxton. Tony Baker’s son died. That man’s stronger than me, no doubt. Inspector, he talks about his village but as for me… I wish I had a friend like Subotai from Conan The Barbarian. Cry for me

Inspector, when I’m crying, I’m not sleeping. It took The Last Astronaut decades to think Happy Thoughts about his cat, Bob. In “The Tomorrow War,” Dan got to see his daughter again. Some happy tears for M Anime, who turns thirty-three today, third best friend. Carolina Bound told me that if her husband wasn’t crying when she walked down the aisle. She would have walked right back up without him. To have happy tears, I’ll have to remember to fetch the dictionary. Never will be ahem; Happy Emergence Day. Yet, I wonder why I’m not “Successful” for all my blood, sweat, and tears. Does happiness take as much out of you as rage and sadness? If I’m lucky, I won’t go B Rating My Tears.

199 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 044 ~Need To B Shopping~

It wouldn’t be the first time I starved for food, fun or the love of my furry partner in crime. Yet I have to get up, and if I do get into another accident, I hope I get hit harder. Beware of karma, right? Need To B Shopping, for Braxton and me still

Saturday, August 14, 2021

Chronicle 044 ~Need To B Shopping~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’ll have a personal shopper. I sorta was when Braxton was around. B First

If Braxton were alive, I would not hesitate to go shopping. I did plenty for him, his needs becoming my courage. Then it was zombie mentality after he died. Why do you think zombies once upon a time moaned for “BRAINS.” Like the song goes, “I feel stupid.” More like, I’m afraid. I haven’t been back to Walmart since the accident. I should have kept up my regular routine. My first thought is this Lu, “does Little B have food, treats, pee pads?” So I would park on that side of the store and not the grocery side, always. People get in the way, but I’m not a person. These days I’m the horny fanboy. Yeah, hoping Walmart has the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition today.

How I don’t want to get up today, but at least I made it to the couch this morning. Last night I was ready to break my… what is it, vow, pledge, bet, some madness I don’t know at all. But while I’m making notes, how about one to get more memory and for what. Porno? It should run more rampant around here without Braxton. But again, last night, something was wrong, and the first thing I thought about is where are all my ladies. Writing took a backseat along with any other common sense. I got called out by Maitland Ward, so she, of course, cost me a few bucks. Um, Jada Jinxx has her first movie coming out. Oh, my Stuff and Thangs?

I should go back to work on that, but it’s time if I’m not wasting money. Didn’t I just say that something went wrong the other day, and I want to add more stress? Maddening! Lady Lu, I should be out there mowing the damn lawn. Braxton would be super pissed with the condition. What about cleaning the house or doing anything other than sleeping? I’ve said this how many times… his water bowl is full; he has enough treats so I may honor him. What I wouldn’t give to come back one day and say “stinky puppy” to him. Yeah, that would come after my “Emergence Day” meal if I shared a bit too much. What about M Anime’s birthday? Need To B Shopping

195 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 041 ~B Side Me Driving~

Is there anything worse than being STUPID? I suppose being dead, but I know plenty of wise dead men. I sat beside one for 15 +years. But for his genius, he feared getting in the car. Hell, I’m 36 and will be 37 when again? B Side Me Driving

Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Chronicle 041 ~B Side Me Driving~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’ve always debated whether I would ever drive again. Limos, have to come with drivers?

Now I’m not here to debate driverless cars. Dealing with one other driver was enough for me Monday. As I said, I’m not going to forget that ever. Which leads me to my first sin of what, today? I’ve had to commit several, which is why I’m talking on Tuesday. Driving is a necessary evil. I‘m not turning into Sheldon Cooper, considering I’ve been driving for decades… Jesus, what’s my age again? So my sin is not the fact that I could have hurt someone. I’m glad I didn’t, but I’ve cried more over B III than some old lady. My sin is the fact that I won’t get over my STUPIDITY. Reasons for Self-Harm 101 ahem, my father, Braxton, and everything I consider STUPID.

So the world is one gigantic torture chamber. I spoke about a lot of movies yesterday or today (Tuesday). I can’t watch any film that’s STUPIDITY for STUPIDITY’S sake. For the record, I wasn’t on my phone or anything when the collision happened. Blaming myself? I don’t even know if I should, though the lady seemed to think it was my fault. I didn’t claim guilt, but what I find fault in the fact that I still draw breath? The Day Job, the lady, the cop if dude decided to beat my black ass (dude didn’t). My Olds. Braxton’s Death. Inspector Echo, it’s all my fault, and I deserve to be punished. But like the song, “I said, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.”

Fuck me, I was a better driver with Braxton. I should have started a list of reasons I need him. I could sum that up in one word, LIFE. Save my Braxton, save the world. Speaking of yet another reason to like The Tomorrow War. By loving one beast, I could hate myself a little bit less. I’ve said it, as I hated the world and myself, that killed Braxton. Driving with him, seeing as he would never sit down, I had to slow down. I wasn’t rushing to get out of the way. While I wanted to get “home,” well, Braxton was my heart. Was I looking for a reason to finally face justice? I won’t ever be A-ok. But B Side Me Driving

192 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 037 ~A Brush With B~

I wish the Grim Reaper would ask me out already, but I don’t swing that way. Trust me if “she” looked anything like Georgia Lass from “Dead Like Me” or Alaria from an A.J. Markam novel… I would have already met B again. A Brush With B

Saturday, August 7, 2021

Chronicle 037 ~A Brush With B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, buried in cash but not bedsheets. How about breaking in the dirt, where I rather be.

You know the answer to that… wherever Braxton is. Lady Lu is that might way of saying I wish I was… Yeah, I can’t say that out loud. I don’t need the cops banging on this door today. So what do I need at this moment? Again there is an answer for that. Ain’t chicken. I can’t even get it up to talk about myself being lazy. After yesterday, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. That’s right, Lady Lu, I don’t fear evil, or at least it takes a backseat to everything else in this life. Carolina Reaper sauce, ha. If only it could be something that simple. Or how about falling asleep again, hmm?

Last night I thought that something bit me. Hope for the best; prepare for the worst. More like hope for the worst but prepare for the best. That’s the alarm clock on any given day. Right now, I want to give it back. I’d give them all back to go back to one with B. Perhaps it’s dare I say it, COVID? A breakthrough case from the guy who wears his mask always, and yeah, I got the vaccine. Do I need to add checking WebMD to my ever-growing list of chores, Lu? Oh um, the food and a bottle of root beer. Yep, I still have my taste. Breathing is normal. I only wish it was optional. Once again, careful, with words, Lady Lu.

So what’s the plan, this weekend? You know I have the Six Impossible Things… Hysterical, that’s a good one, isn’t it? What’s even sadder is most of them I could do from my warm bed. Only I didn’t get six hours. I did get further along in A.J. Markam’s novel. Didn’t I say something about WWBD (what would B do) a few days ago? Like his Daddy, he would want to sleep, but he would get outside at least once today. Hell, I need to get up and give him his treat. I found his bag empty in my dresser drawer. One day I know. There will be no more treats, and I can’t buy more, and that’s death for ya. A Brush With B

188 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 034 ~B Leave, You Asked~

I shouldn’t jinx myself on wanting to be a father. 15 years ago, I didn’t know what I wanted, and now seven months later, I’m not sure what I’ve got. I know I’d give these days back for Braxton. Only this is “my” life. “B Leave, You Asked” but didn’t

Wednesday, August 4, 2021

Chronicle 034 ~B Leave, You Asked~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and before you get on me about the title… Let’s not talk about the Basic Bitch.

Remember “Autumn Leaves,” that’s how this blog got up in the first place. Braxton leaves too, well, on Sunday, January 31, 2021. A day which will live in infamy, as does this fact. I never asked to be Braxton’s Daddy. Don’t get me wrong, Echo, B blessed me 15 years. Only I never asked for him. That’s what I was musing about at the Day Job today. Johnny Cash sings in HURT, “What have I become.” He never asked for such a life, I take it. How about Kid Rock’s ONLY GOD KNOWS WHY? “You get what you put in, and people get what they deserve.” Did he ask for the life he made? A life decision; what he asked? I didn’t ask for Braxton.

While I was humiliated yet again, “Tuesday,” I wasn’t asking for ideas. Who would ask to waste their life at my Day Job for a decade, and yet there I was. Inspector, here I am. Dammit, who would ask to be sitting here in bed with no signs of a future? Let’s keep the tunes running with R. Kelly’s I WISH. “Y’all look at me and say, boy, you’ve been blessed. But y’all don’t see the inside of my unhappiness.” I keep saying Inspector who asked. Should I say it was Braxton because it didn’t matter to him as long as we were together, Echo? It wasn’t his choice to die. I made that decision, and I didn’t ask. Asking to be a murderer?

That’s why I should be quiet? No, because when I am, life gives me all these things I didn’t ask for. At the same time, if I open my mouth to speak, what good is accomplished? Wanting a job to hold me over when I’m asking for time and again what do I do with it. Well, I’m still talking to you when I should be reading because I’m damn exhausted. Looking for something to do so I got someone to love. Yeah, I was looking for Yabbos for one night, and instead, I got four paws sharing my bed for 15 years. Fuck some Yabbos. Hell, if Braxton wanted anything, it would be for me to give up sleep. I couldn’t. B Leave, You Asked.

185 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 027 ~Not Another Word… B~

I wrote so early and posted it so late. I cannot fail my son again. Only, I’ve spent all the rest of this day in bed and before that… well I time travel? As the song goes, My Lazy Ass, but I have been writing about my son. “Not Another Word… B”

Wednesday, July 28, 2021

Chronicle 027 ~Not Another Word… B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that’s because I don’t make excuses. Today has been pretty humiliating. I haven’t lived it.

I am, of course, talking about Saturday the 24th. If I was a betting man, I would put money on the fact that Wednesday hasn’t been anything to talk about. Oh, I have done plenty of talking today, right here from bed. If Braxton were here, this couldn’t stand. Inspector, I wouldn’t blame him in the slightest for bitching me out. Okay, I’d tell Braxton to shush it, but I would deserve it. You heard me right about being in bed all day. The farthest I have walked was to fetch my computer. The world, Sick Sad World Inspector. I wish I could tell you it was other people; good, they may be, who had the problems. All my dicking around watching Girlfriend Reviews SIGH.

I’m not sick. Well, physically, I hope. Um, the last time I went out, and that was for BBQ, E. Mentally, the best psychiatrist I ever had was B III, and somehow he made everything okay for me. Now my head is a mess, and all I know is, I did worse today than yesterday. It also didn’t help that I got all in about the day Braxton died. To think that I could cover all of that in one chapter of his novel, about 2,500 words. If I want more shame, how about the fact that I haven’t finished the damn thing yet? When I reread this, what? Inspector Echo, do I expect to be done? If I was doing 5000 words these days?

No, Friday it was only 3100 words, so I could not watch The Olympics. You know what I mean, I diddled on my phone all evening and did some security. Speaking of which, you see the alerts that have been going off. Inspector Echo I want to say “disappear,” careful. I was reminded of that time with the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Besides Braxton being gone, what else can I say? In a few minutes, I will get up and honor my son as always. I’ll eat some sour worms, get the mail, come back and read. Routine dear Echo. But I am once again failing Braxton. I’m failing everybody. B bothers me more, Inspector. How I wish he was here. Not Another Word… B

178 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will