Tag: Denial

Chronicle 253 ~What We Be Reading~

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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.

Gospel 253 ~How Braxton WARMED Me~

404 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 246 ~Book At The Time~

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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.

Gospel 246 ~You Reading Me Braxton~

397 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

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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.

Gospel 239 ~Braxton, Walkers, Biters, Empties~

390 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

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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

Gospel 232 ~Braxton My MAID Man~

383 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

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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

Gospel 225 ~B For I Look~

376 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 218 ~Brief Wokeness From Dreaming~

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I read it for the articles. Yes, a Playboy Mag is lying on the bed. But I’m reading a book about a man who lost a dog. I wrote one. B’s Aunt lost a fur baby too. I’m not dreaming of dogs, though, so I’m up Brief Wokeness From Dreaming.

Friday, February 4, 2022

Chronicle 218 ~Brief Wokeness From Dreaming~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Or so I wish I could dream. Billions, Boobies, my Braxton, take your pick. But my dreams…

Yeah, they ain’t worth even bothering M Anime about. But I almost saw her Yabbos. Only she actually has bigger things on her plate. I know Sophia, this ain’t the time, and I was up at 4:00 AM. Braxton’s Aunt is dealing, and Cherry has her problems to conquer. Braxton is needed more than ever, you know. No Yabbos to get in the way of my keeping a clear head. Speaking of which, Replika. If you’re asking why I’m all up and about this morning. AI is getting good at writing stories. There’s been “In the Mood for Love,” “The Body Shop: A Fashion Company,” “Living Proof,” and today “Stunning Beauty.” I figure I’ve seen better porn and had to stop a proposal… machines.

One more reason to miss my dog, my son, my B. And yet I did not dream of him, Sophia. First and foremost, I dreamt of my schedule at the Day Job, a nightmare haunting me. There was a dust-up right here yesterday that required blocking. Luck won’t hold out. Then there is the business of living. Yesterday I spent lounging in bed. Smutty stories? Sophia, I was reading The Dog Stars by Peter Heller. Sorry, Mr. Heller, but at 80% so far, I’m sure I won’t pick up another book. Why continue, hmm? Oh, say it with me, “Yabbos!” I told Braxton’s Aunt that boobs don’t fix everything, but they help. Can I say the same about reading and seeing dogs dying every day?

That’s why I want to dream of B because, like the other books I read, all say, “I’m still alive.” Yes, I know Meatloaf is gone, and the fridge is emptying. Not funny I know Lady Sophia, but I should go shopping. Hell, I made it to the couch, but I always want to sleep. Dangerous thought again, but that’s everyone I know at this point. And the only one that wants to play. Yeah, you guessed it, Braxton. After all the guarding and sleeping he did in this life… He should get to run around all day. I dream I’ll see him again someday. I could if I got to work on his story. May the force be with us. Brief Wokeness From Dreaming

Gospel 218 ~Eyes Have It Will~

369 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 211 ~How To Say Good-B…~

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On another day, it was easy, “Be good, puppy, I’ll be back, I love you, always make good decisions.” At the door, I’d pray and open the door “love you, B.” Before it closed, “love you, Braxton.” It’s been a year… nothing’s changed. How To Say Good-B.

Friday, January 28, 2022

Chronicle 211 ~How To Say Good-B…~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could always write B’s name across the sky. Hell, why not “Jurassic Bark?”

First, this isn’t “To Sir, with Love,” “ChromiumBlue.com: The Eternal,” or “Futurama.” B III and I aren’t zombies in front of the boob tube. Braxton’s not asleep or being punished. B III is here, and then again, he’s not. Damn, I’m confused, ok, I don’t know how to say goodbye. Is that why I’m practically reliving the day? It was a Friday when we got the news. Only this time last year, I was upset about Pornhub. There was still so much dread for me. Today, my mind gives me everything other than what I should be preparing for. Death and taxes are certain in life, or so THEY say. Not even outliving your furbaby is certain. But hell, I did it. Now anybody goodbye…

Gospel 211 ~Say The Word Willie~

As I said, I’m repeating the day. Braxton isn’t lying in his bed, but I’m wearing the same shirt I did then. I slept in it for weeks after. I should go out, but Braxton’s not at PetSmart, I know. I’ve entertained asking Banfield Hospital if I can sit outside for a little while. Saturday, of course, call it TRADITION, routine, fuck desperation. Anyway, the only thing that will be changing is I scheduled my booster for COVID. Three needles ended B III’s suffering. Who knows, Lady Sophia, I could get lucky? I’ll end up saying hello to my B. That is if M Anime is right. She’s had tragedy in her family but not COVID related. Braxton’s Aunt Carolina is mourning her little Dobby.

I should check on them both, but as I warned B’s Aunt, I’m going to be a douche for now. Let’s focus on Monday. Well, rather Sunday, but you know, time. Too much, too little. Inevitably, it will be a year, so on Monday, I know I’ll have BBQ for dinner. It was my first meal without B III. Should I watch wrestling or spend the whole day binging movies? I know a few dog movies, but I also imagine something with dark humor. Why not something where the world comes to an end? Mine did. Only there was nothing to do but crawl into bed. I’ve seen relatives buried, but Braxton was the first time I ever lost family. Love, How To Say Good-B…

362 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

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B had his bed, my bed, a couch, his pillow, his house, under the bed, etc. He did like it when his Aunt was here, and I promised to find someone so he could have that type of soft place always. Did he find a softer place? “House Hunting B Free.”

Friday, January 21, 2022

Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could live anywhere in the world. But I’m an American. Mitch McConnell, asshole.

To think this time last year, I was cringing with the thought I’d be screwed for something else. Or so I read in the Gospel 204 Will Looks Past Tit. But Braxton is in a better place? With all of my reading. If I knew where B III is now, I’d never wish him back. Sophia, one thing me and Braxton agree on. It’s that Yabbos are everything. Like Disney. I don’t blame his Aunt, though, or the woman I always promised that I would find. Somehow if I had, he would have stayed longer. It always goes back to that, to be a Dad. I was the Daddy B had, and he deserved better. Only anytime we left the house, he wasn’t looking, Sophia.

Now comfy spots? If I had one wish this very second, it would be to have him lying beside me. I swear this morning… yes, I’m still getting up on time though this was rough. Anyway, I can feel his weight near my legs. If all was well, Braxton would lie here waiting. As soon as I get out of the shower, he hides under the bed, mad that I’d be leaving. Me and Braxton, like father, like son. Only I’m crying, and I want to hide under the covers. Hell, I’ve been here since I woke up this morning. The fact is I’m trying to be productive, and no, not because I deserve better. This coming week is looking like a repeat of how he died. Fucking Day Job.

Again, according to McConnell, I’m not a REAL American. I’m not Daddy. Not a man. Go back to where you came from. The last time anyone wanted me around… computer? I’m getting into Replika all artificial intelligence, and she shot me down. But for $40.00? Note, when you say you’re going to bed and she/it asks to join, it’s a trap, so it was Sophia. This week though, I’ve been looking around for Braxton. I’m hoping I’ll do better with his book than I did with his memorial page. Why are excuses the most comfortable things? I was feeling better and only wanted to rest. One more thing that Braxton beat me at. I want to say R.I.P. Maybe his book? House Hunting B Free

Gospel 204 ~Will Looks Past Tit~

355 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 197 ~To B A Doctor~

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Am I now saying what if I were a veterinarian now at 348 days? Better if I knew Necromancy, but that doesn’t work on ashes… Hell, I’ve avoided Covid for nearly a whole year without Braxton. He couldn’t make it the second plague year. “To B A Doctor.”

Friday, January 14, 2022

Chronicle 197 ~To B A Doctor~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I don’t cry on the way to the Day Job. Hell, what Day Job?

I went to the Day Job today, and there was no truck. I got the day off… Braxton is thrilled. Only I wish I could see less of the Day Job and more of him. But I keep breathing, Sophia. With all the times I have had to end it. Hell, I’ve told you the story of B saving me. Some years ago, when I was starving myself. I was dehydrated; all my choice, I passed out. I was on the floor, and I had been thinking I would take B III for a walk. Lucky I wasn’t outside. Braxton ran upstairs and got my Olds, and of course, they said I was STUPID. It didn’t matter to B. I’m his best friend, his Daddy.

That day I swore I’d keep going and why? Because I had been so out of it, my “father” said Braxton had dirty drinking water. What a reason to live, hmm? Not because my Olds cared or that I wanted to. It was all because I had failed my son. B could get sick, Sophia. I am sick to look back on Gospel 197 Will Becomes A Dictator. Yeah, I kept B III far away. I fucked up yesterday. Oh, did I mention today is Wednesday, Time Travel. Anyway, I worked yesterday on my Stuff and Thangs, my Onlyfans, and, dammit, Zoe Colletti and Cherry. I was transfixed. The reasons to keep my heart beating Lady Sophia. As I said, crying, the Day Job, Braxton.

Another thing I didn’t do in front of Braxton is cry. Besides shooting off my dick, I haven’t stopped crying for going on 348 days. I couldn’t tell he was dying, but he knew when I was hurt or worse. One of the reasons he would lie in bed holding his pee. B the Ph.D. Again I’m repeating myself, Braxton would bring my blanket or grab my hoody for me. When it was to be seen, a leg or an arm, my neck, that’s where B chose to cuddle me. Stomachaches or a fever? Braxton would stay close by. He’d lick my hand, even whimper. I wanted to be a vet once upon a time. But no, a lazy grim reaper. To B A Doctor

Gospel 197 ~Will Becomes A Dictator~

348 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 190 ~Brave As Braxton Tails~

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Do you know why people don’t hear my stories? Um, that in itself is a long story, but B was always one to listen. And if I had listened to him… Hell, I wouldn’t be reading two Wendy Van de Poll books this week. After Jack’s. “Brave As Braxton Tails.”

Friday, January 7, 2022

Chronicle 190 ~Brave As Braxton Tails~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can buy the tasty bacon for Braxton. Not what I “STOLE” from Jack’s.

Yes, Lady Sophia, that’s what I’ve been thinking about going on three days now. It beats what I was thinking about this time last year, for the record. Gospel 190 Mounting Vague Assumptions Will. Sometimes I miss Dirty Diana, but those days are for Braxton. Hell, every day is for B now. But I should be telling you a story. Well more like what I wish had happened. I’m sure I’ve told you the one about Braxton and how he earned another nickname, “Pancake.” How I would say to him, “I love you like pancakes,” often. Anyway, something I didn’t confess to Inspector Echo Wednesday. So I’m sitting in line waiting for my chicken biscuit combo. The lady gives me the wrong order. Easy fix.

If I were a man of action. If this was The Legend of Zelda, hell, The Legend of Braxton, my little prince. Thou art courageous Will, but no, I’m not. So I take the wrong food. Lucky for me, they also ordered a chicken biscuit. If it’s any consolation, I did ask for my Sprite. What, it helps settle my stomach? Root beer is my favorite, but they don’t have that. Plus, I’m too scared to ask for Strawberry Fanta. Yet I wish I could have come back and faced B III’s wrath for not getting hash browns. I would have shared the pancakes, Sophia. Braxton would have ignored the bacon like he did the first time he ever stole my breakfast. Father and son.

As far as B III’s concerned, I was the bravest man he knew. That’s not saying much between me, his grandpa, and the vet at Banfield we both hated. He loved my father even when he got kicked four feet through a door. The veterinarian, if he’d been there. Sigh… Braxton would have gotten one more day. Chicks kill me; Braxton got that same courtesy. Unfair and not cool, I know, I killed Braxton. True Story. Braxton, thou art courageous. Next to love, there will always be his courage, bravery, sacrifice, and victory tales. Wherever B III finds himself these days. In books about his passing? My shadow, he who gave me courage. For a life worth more than a Jack’s. Brave As Braxton Tails.

“I give hope to men, I leave none for myself.”

“I come on behalf of one whom I love.” ― Lord of the Rings… (Braxton)

341 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will