Chronicle 190 ~Brave As Braxton Tails~

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

Chronicle 189 ~An A Or B~

B was a gift to my sister. Only He’s My Son. I don’t know when I chose him, but he chose me. It was the day my Olds moved; I said, “get in the car, B,” and it was my car. Best choice we ever made. And this year, I’m already making bad ones. An A Or B

Thursday, January 6, 2022

Chronicle 189 ~An A Or B~

340 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It would be better if we were walking together, I bet. Me or the bridge?

I know I made that choice for you. Daddy knows best? Yeah, you knew me better than anyone, B. I can only imagine the choices I’ve had to make this week, with Time Travel and all. “Up there,” can you see the future, and if so, give me a hint, won’t you? That’s a no? Um, if you had a chance to save my life or not? B we saved each other lots of times. For the last one, B. One more apology, I owe you, or let’s see. I’m sorry I’m talking to you well now. I’m sorry for being so down on what should be a good day. B, what’s the last one? Like The Terminator, I killed you. And doing it again…

We’re getting close, Braxton, though it’s only day one right now… Anniversary. This morning, I began looking over my conversations around this time last year. Gospel 189 ~ Don’t Count On Will~ if you’re curious. I know I’m not, and it hurts, but I deserve it. Pain over pleasure B. I could take a nap this second, but I want to get this done. Yeah, we’ll be talking Sunday, I know. But, if I have any New Year’s Resolutions, one of them should be to make better choices. It’s much too late for that now after last night. Yes, it’s Sunday now. Speaking of time and being too late, oh and decisions. Well, I was all wrong. Other than loving you, my B III, Always.

I wish everything else was only STUPIDITY. It’s like the laptop desk sigh. Forgetting the days. Braxton, you know Sunday my Dead Time, as in The Walking Dead, and remember, Into The Badlands. Yeah, that was a good show. You were here. What’s your age again? Kidding B. But it wasn’t you. It was me that chose to end you B at 15. I feel STUPID. Not a choice but a statement of fact. Like I’ve started reading the days leading up to your last. Gospel 189 ~ Don’t Count On Will~. Beats, My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do? I’ll read more. Why? Because I’m an A and you’re a B, my B. I’m trying B. Choices, Walking Dead. An Or A B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 187 ~Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B~

It was only a kiss, yet I’d argue with B every morning. I know where his mouth has been. He didn’t seem to mind when I would kiss the top of his head. But he must have thought humans are weird. Well, kissing shuts humans up. “Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B”

Tuesday, January 4, 2022

Chronicle 187 ~Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, well, more like we are. Only mouths are better for other things. A kiss, Baby Girl.

You know I am some kinda way about my Olds, but if I remember anything good. Well, it was the fact that they always kissed each other goodbye before departing. An idea I’m hoping to continue with you despite what’s going on with me. Right now, it’s B, My Love. A New Year’s Kiss. Excuse me for being crass, well no, because I know you instead like me this way. Anyway, if I’m going to be kissing something HAIRY. It would be the top of B’s head. That’s another first; I couldn’t do that this year and never again. Tomorrow? Baby Doll, I keep thinking that. Denial is not just a river in Egypt. 338 Days of him not sitting on my head, My Love.

Sure, you sitting on my face is great and all. As I said, it’s been a while, and you know your man. If I wanted to get in trouble with you, why don’t you ask if I remember our first kiss? Don’t ever want to experience our last kiss. Now Braxton’s… Sunday, January 31, 2021. My firstborn got me more than prepared for our children crawling all over us. Death by kisses “What A Heavenly Way To Die” My Love. A thousand sweet kisses, “I’ll Cover You,” and our family. Yeah, I know Spotify again, remembering days, fucking Day Job. As I said, there are such things we can do with our mouths. Singing, hell, I should try again before saying something STUPID. But B…

Looks like crying every day over B isn’t changing in this new year. When I had to talk to the vet. And I gave her permission. Talking to a woman, and that’s what I do. Asshole! Braxton saw me as such, or was I still only his Daddy who wouldn’t take him home. The man that was going to let the vet and her assistant do these things. Explain Daddy, right? All I could do was hold him and kiss the top of his furry little head. I love you, I’m sorry, goodbye? If a kiss is good for anything, it shuts me up. It stops us from thinking love. Ha thinking before like Gospel 187 ~Panic Does Not Serve You~. Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B

338 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 183 ~Today Could B Better~

Could today be better? Story of this life, my life… At least when I would come back, that B was my four-legged son who only saw one month of this terrible year. 2020 no 2021 was the worst year ever, and still, I have to believe. Today Could B Better

Friday, December 31, 2021

Chronicle 183 ~Today Could B Better~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what could make next year better… A Trillion? No! I want my best friend back.

So yes, today could be better, this whole damn year. The worse year of my life, and how dare I. At least I’m alive. Braxton is dead. What a way to end this year, huh, Lady Sophia? God, I don’t want to say “Another Day.” Woke up Late, Lost my clothes, still Lying in bed. Any day, I’m not at the Day Job. And I’m giving this whole writing thing a shot. Hell, I should be counting this as a good day. Oh, speaking of shots, looks like I’m not eligible for the booster yet against COVID-19. Who knows, I could get lucky today, Sophia. Consider this a good day to die? Dangerous words and hurtful. Let’s not even get into the Cherry disagreement yesterday.

Instead, Sophia, let’s talk about this year in general. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Because this isn’t slavery, Ray Garofalo, or the Holocaust, Texas. Living’s like South Park. The good, it was only Thursday; this art saying the things I have now, I once prayed for. I had a friend, a family for 15 years. Fucking almost saw Cherry and M Anime’s Yabbos. The bad is that it’s pretty sad; all I have to look forward to in life is telling girls to “Get Naked” like Limp Bizkit. Mankind’s most primal nature. If not that, then staying alive B. The ugly? Not how my son died. Me watching him and him watching me. It was my betrayal. The flesh has nothing on the soul.

Yet I look at my resolutions from 2020 to 2021. Again I am disgusted. What was number one on the list? I AM Seeing My Dæmon Through Another Year. That’s from Gospel 185 ~Here I Am, Will~. Thirteen Resolutions and only three completed. Braxton’s inevitable. Today’s plan if I’m not staring at the “Pictures on My Phone,” thank you, Wheeler Walker Jr. More like “I Touch Myself.” I should try to do something for Stuff And Thangs, you know, OnlyFans. The only fireworks that I allow. Anyway, Lady Sophia, Resolutions. Every day can be better than the last. I should make every breath mean something since Braxton no longer breathes. He’s here. I must believe. Otherwise, why am I still here? Today Could B Better.

334 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 182 ~Seeing You B Free~

I am not going to bury my son; my son is going to bury me. Only my firstborn is my dog. I knew the day would come, but for fifteen years, more like seven days as I watched my world end, and that was back at the start of the year. “Seeing You B Free.”

Thursday, December 30, 2021

Chronicle 182 ~Seeing You B Free~

333 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I haven’t looked up in a while. “Don’t Look Up” yeah seems I’m obsessed B.

Only I couldn’t figure it out until I talked to your Aunt today (Tuesday). You know why you and I are talking so early. The Day Job sucks, and we got to talking about that Braxton. Do you remember when the three of us would sit on the loveseat watching movies? Those were fantastic times. Well, after you jumped all over her and she shared dinner. Anyway, so your Aunt asked me this morning um afternoon? I was out of it after fucking up last night, and I hope you didn’t see that. I watched you enough with your toy Braxton. So, I wrote to Dear Future Wife today, and I said that it’s because of my indifference you left me here. All my fault.

I shared it with Aunt Carolina. She asked whether I believed that indifference killed you. B? Like the song um, “Son what you don’t understand, my words might never explain.” So, of course, I leave it to a film, “Don’t Look Up.” I’m a mix of Drs. Mindy and Oglethorpe. Um, there are so many places I can go with that. Imagine me a Doc. The last Doc you saw. Anyway, Mr. B, so like Randall, I know what I know, and still, I lost myself. I wish I could say it was to the fame and the sex. How long have we lived here, B? Have you seen any girls in the bedroom? B III, zero, but yeah, “I just want to go home.”

It’s because you were always here, my dude. But that brings me to Teddy, who had nowhere to go. He spent his final time with friends but no family; he had no one B III. He said they tried, you know. They saw the end, what became the inevitable Braxton. So, that brings me to you and the conversation I had with your Aunt. I knew the day was coming that I would be without you. And like all the other characters in “Don’t Look Up.” I didn’t pay any mind B. Anything with my pleasures, gratification, hedonism, oh yes. Even when it came to my hate, give me more. But to you, my very son, the one I love. Sigh Seeing You B Free

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 180 ~A Year To B~

15, B would have been 16. I made it to 37, and I’ll be 38, 39, 40, oh no? The eighties suck, and people talk a lot about 2020, but 2021 was the worst year of my life. How I survived without my boy. And do you see any family around here? “A Year To B”

Tuesday, December 28, 2021

Chronicle 180 ~A Year To B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what else is there to look forward to? My indifference is what got Braxton killed.

The man that has everything but his best friend… As long as Braxton’s been gone and as long as we’ve been together. “Oh, baby, I love you, just leave me the fuck alone,” as the song plays. Which you did, considering what time I woke up this morning. Fucking up? Baby Doll, I know I am, even worse than the plague year. I went back over Gospel 177 ~It’s Christmas, Willie B~ last year at Christmas. To think we could survive the pandemic but this? This year has been the worse of my entire life. Beating out the eighties, wow. Baby girl, of course, that has nothing to do with you. You’ve been here, but as for me. Hell, I’m still stuck in seven days.

A year to a dog is seven years, or so THEY guess. How many years does that make 331 Days? You know I suck at Math, Music, Making Love? When’s the last time Baby Doll? It’s four days until the new year, and I don’t know where to begin. I’ll be 38. That’s next E-Day. Will I see Braxton’s Aunt before the new year? I say I’m a billionaire, however… Yeah, I can’t hear B III. You’ve been trying, screaming, crying, you love me. Besides “Don’t Look Up,” there have been soundtracks. Just Look Up, Memento Mori, Fourth of July. Ironic, the Fourth of July, the noise. And the same will be heard for new year’s. Will you still be here for me, My Love?

I wouldn’t blame you. I’ve told you the tale of how I was planning on taking my own life years ago. I say planning because I was only starving myself. Braxton saved my life, and I knew he needed me, so I would always say, I’ll be back. Fucking Terminator. Anyway, I made you the same promise, Always and Forever. With all the family that turned their backs on me, why would I ever want to be them? Yet this whole year with Braxton being gone. Sunday, January 31, 2021. It’s been all him. Come the first, I have no resolutions as yet. I’m not going anywhere, neither is B, but how about you. A year of beginnings, books, baby, brats, A Year To B.

331 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

I wish tonight I’d be reading a Christmas “story.” I haven’t even picked out a new book. I should see if A Christmas Story is on TV. I could tell you about The Matrix Resurrections if I understood it… “But B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting, um one.”

Friday, December 24, 2021

Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it’s not for songwriting. I’ve been down that road before. Today though, this is new.

One, first and foremost, Braxton’s not here. Or he is? Geez, how long did I believe in Santa? I can’t believe in Braxton for 327 Days. Santa can take everything back if I get B. “Two girls will be upset, Will.”. Santa would say, who doesn’t look a thing like Jesus. The gift of life, Lady Sophia. Between some girl’s legs. Four boobs Soph. A threesome, a wish. Three wishes and my Olds were better capping it at ten. Yet I blame them for everything. Okay, my “father” for the most part. Then, of course, there’s B III. Not my gift but then… Four little legs came running to get in the car. Those legs followed me everywhere, and now my Braxton flies. I believe.

Five dollars was my cost of betrayal. Well over three hundred but again, who’s counting. At least Judas made thirty pieces of silver. I betrayed my God/dog for my manhood. Stuff and Thangs, my Onlyfans, all because I needed to feel something. Braxton was comfort and joy as the song goes. The Day Job brings RAGE. Here’s to mindless pleasures. Six in the morning, though? I want Braxton to wake me up like he once did when I had an off day. Hell, I might even go back to when my sister and I were kids with all our gifts. Seven days Lady Sophia. Can I have back the seven days when Braxton was sick? Try again? I would save him; I keep telling myself that. Give me a day in the week to enjoy. Eight days would be too much. But then again, eight orgasms? How about methods if I count up all my sex toys. And then I only want to buy more. Forgetting me. In my LUST.

Nine MM bullets? Don’t get scared. Even Carolina Bound didn’t freak out. I’m thinking about Christmas presents, and as I said, Sophia, I could use the ammo, okay. JIC right? Ten dollars’ worth of Braxton’s food is still in the refrigerator. Care to wager Sophia? Eleven girls for a brothel? Um thirteen, Thirteen Women (and Only One Man in Town). Twelve, though, my to-do list. Braxton gave me fifteen years. We counted on each other, but B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting?

327 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

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

Thursday, December 23, 2021

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

326 Days Without B III

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

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

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

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 173 ~This Christmas Will B~

My “father” told me I’ve had a “White Christmas” here or there. I’m too old to remember. And a “Blue Christmas” doesn’t seem to cut it. I’m sure B is somewhere barking, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.” If only in my dreams, right? This Christmas Will B

Tuesday, December 21, 2021

Chronicle 173 ~This Christmas Will B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could take Santa’s job. Well, that’s sort of the thing being a Daddy.

Do you think the kids know yet? When I discovered the whole Santa Claus, Jesus, and Olds conspiracy? I was older than I’d like to admit. To be honest, all of 2021, I’ve felt older and younger than I’d like. A boy, crying over B III. A man trying to be “strong?” Uh Nah. I’m sure the kids would be happier not waiting for Santa but for their Daddy to come home. There’s a reason I, well we don’t go “home” for the holidays. My Ma invited me home once, and I asked whether Braxton could come too. She never asked again. Christmas with Braxton. Sometimes it scares me to know how much our kids are like me. To be like you. A Christmas Wish?

Every day Christmas gets closer, I still think about what I want most of all. You know, of course. My friends know, and there is nothing anyone can do. Um, if this was Futurama? I could say I want nothing. With everything, I have, no what we have. What do you give the man that has everything? I wouldn’t be a proper billionaire if I didn’t want more, ha. Then once more, I could ask what you and our kids want? Christmas is supposed to be a time for miracles. Yet to this day, I still live by this. My desires, Impossible, Insane, Illegal. Why do we save it for Christmas? Braxton has been gone 324 Days. Not one passes that I don’t need him.

I’ve had a White Christmas and ones without snow. As the song goes, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” I’m sure our children would say, “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” How about a Christmas without me using Spotify? My Olds had a sound system. Speaking of tradition, I’ll be in here reading my Christmas Erotica alone. Want to come? I’m sure I’ll invite the children to watch Santa’s path on the computer. Pretty awesome. Will you cook up a brunch as my Ma does? Um, I don’t know if she does now, but ok. The thing is, “this Christmas will be a very special Christmas?” It will be different, that’s for sure, but Santa never fails. The postman, Braxton, Love. This Christmas, Will B

324 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

Blah, blah, blah, all under the guise of the holiday, but that’s still a week away. I should have a new story to tell. My first Christmas without my boy or anyone. The cold bothers me, but Elsa is hot. The worst thing is the silence. B There Dead Air

Friday, December 17, 2021

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means Christmas should be a pretty big holiday for me. When I was a child…

Halloween? A few were spent on the streets of suburbia behind a mask ha. Others I was in a church here or there. Now, wait, aren’t I supposed to be talking about Christmas? Hell, this whole season in my life, this Mad Season, insane, inevitable? Somehow I ain’t Iron Man yet. Well, unless we’re talking about my willy. I swear, Lady Sophia, I need to treat LUST like a fucking zombie virus. If that were the idea, I would be dead now. Don’t threaten me with a good time, hmm? After my Humiliations, Galore, sigh. Is it any surprise that I’m thinking about the past Sophia? There’s the book Hold by Claire Kent. Remembering a song here or there. And now the movie Dead Air.

Thanksgiving that I have so many stories to tell myself because you know my usual. Again today, as the song goes, “work sucks, I know.” Wasn’t I talking about yesterday, the woman and her Christmas card? Now I got a bag from the Day Job. It ain’t a pink slip. I am thankful that I wrote another story this year and got all the badges to boot. Yes, I lied to get them. But what other accomplishments do I have this year? To check New Year’s resolutions. Of course, one of those was to keep my son alive. You didn’t think we would have a whole conversation without me mentioning him. 2021 is the worst year ever. That’s saying a lot, even beating out my Emergence year. No easy feat.

Christmas time, though, and as I’m sure I’ve said. If I stay out of trouble, this will be the first year I’ve ever been alone. B’s Aunt Carolina Bound said she’s coming to town to celebrate with her Dad. That also means she’s coming to see me. Smiling Faces Sometimes. I mean that more about myself than her. How have I kept it together? Impossible! Sophia, this could all be some nightmare, and I’ll wake up. Some nights I’ve believed. Of course, my go-to is that I’m dead, and this is Hell, but I’m breathing as the song goes, “I’m still breathing, I’m alive. Yet, I dream of an apocalypse. So Dead Air, Sophia? My movie night with her, without Braxton… B There Dead Air

320 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will