Chronicle 131 ~Can’t We B Friends~

Who’s your best friend? I’d like to say a pretty girl. More to the point, Braxton would say over my dead body, and here we are. Well, minus both girl and dog. There’s a lot of pretty girls in this city but only one Braxton. So Why Can’t We B Friends?

Tuesday, November 9, 2021

Chronicle 131 ~Can’t We B Friends~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but also a Boy as in, “that’s my boy.’ A Brother. A Better man, aka Daddy.

Ah yes, what about, husband? Before that Betrothed? If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been reading another book “This Dog’s Afterlife.” It has a couple losing a dog and another losing a kid but anyway. How about a Boyfriend? Good times.

Further back even, a Best friend, right? Nobody tells you how to be these things. If I were my father, I’d throw some money at it and consider myself a good man. These days I’m less and less of one I know. Of course, I failed way before now. Even more than the 282 Days since B III’s been gone. I’m tired. You put up with my ass when I had the old-day job. You survived my madness back then, but B III didn’t. I envy him every so often.

Some days like today. I should have stopped myself sooner. Working for people I hated, and it’s cost me the one I love. Then it’s a fucking domino effect; pardon my language. I’ve been down for so long, and I ain’t getting up any time soon. Well, then I’m disgusted. Getting “up?” There’s some things you don’t tell your friends. Keep it “In The Closet.” No, I don’t mean like that. I’ll entertain dark “passions” over hatred forever, baby girl. Impossible as it may seem. As my best friend lay dying, I had no idea who I was or what. So every single day, it’s like I’m living some sort of character and the real me? It’s Kill Bill and, wiggle your big toe Love.

A friend might tolerate all my pop culture references; a best friend would get them all. And then there was Braxton. He would be right here listening to “Ben,” “Would You Be There,” and “In The Closet,” thinking to himself. “Women ain’t nothing but trouble.” Braxton was/is the boy, as the kids say, “kept it 92 plus 8.” Oh, um, and you, my Baby Doll. You could ask anything of me, anything at all. Your wish is my command, but in this, my lost son. I know I must sound like a fool which explains why I don’t have many friends. If I did, though, I wouldn’t go around killing them. Where’s Braxton’s privilege there? That doggie in the window. Why Can’t We B Friends

282 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

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~

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 124 ~B Fixing That Soon~

What makes a man? I’ve said before I thought it was women or their mammaries, to be specific. It could be money. I want to get away from my father, and what’s my age again? Or it could be mutts though B III was purebred. Love, B Fixing That Soon

Tuesday, November 2, 2021

Chronicle 124 ~B Fixing That Soon~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means when it comes to small stuff… The wi-fi and not my son. Man’s Priorities

Friend? Hell, Best Friend? For forever and a day, B III will be my son, but before all that. Yesterday I was reminded of when I first met him. My sister’s dog. It’s what B was, my sister’s dog. How was I to know what he would be? I wasn’t anybody. I’m only a man. Friend, Forever, Father. Did I even have any friends back then? Nope! Braxton fixed that. I talked a lot about “forever.” Well, no, I said the world was going to end, and B fixed that. As far as loving something, someone that wasn’t fixated on some Yabbos. Braxton fixed that. And so you wonder why I’m falling apart. Dealing with my father last week, I have to fix, pretend me.

Forever can’t get here fast enough. I’m tired of the stuff I have to do. Tiring myself in things that shouldn’t matter… NaNoWriMo. I won’t lie. When I first saw you, it was all about Paradise By the Dashboard Light. If you knew how much I wanted you then, now? Only I was a different man back then. You make me better, but Braxton made me whole. Now I sit here like Wilford Young, trying to figure out how to keep Snowpiercer running. Instead, I want to be Andre Layton. My Love, I have a thing for brunettes, Baby Girl. Braxton was/is one of a kind, as are you. Only I can’t have him back. Such a small part, yet all of them come together.

Fatherhood made me the man I am. I’m a Dad, ok. It’s why I’m still here and will be. Love. Now I don’t tell you much about my father other than finances. Strived for billions. Money, My Love, children need time, reason instead of terror, for someone to feel Love. Braxton never asked for a dime. But everything I did, I did to make sure he was ok. It’s the same with our children. Did I rely on him too much? We are supposed to be there for our children, not the other way around. But no one wakes up knowing how to be Dad. How to do that when Braxton was trial and error. We built each other; now repairing… B Fixing That Soon.

275 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 120 ~How Scary Stories B~

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~

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 117 ~Will B Decorating Soon~

Stores are filled with holiday crap these days. It’s meant to bring out our touchy-feely nature. I’m still mad at having to put down new floor mats at the Day Job. Hell B’s life was new comfy spots. Let me close my eyes. “Will B Decorating Soon”

Tuesday, October 26, 2021

Chronicle 117 ~Will B Decorating Soon~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means whatever you want for the house for Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas. Listen to the woman

That’s a piece of advice I won’t ever forget. Next to how my Ma taught me how to cook shrimp and also make tartar sauce. The lessons on how to make a house into a home. All I know for sure is, A Man Provides. Please tell me I’ve done that these past 268 Days. Sometimes I don’t recognize this house anymore. I’ve known people who have suffered such loss and have to move away. Anyone tells me that Braxton was just a dog… well, there’s a reason I got myself a gun, and I don’t go near it. Hell Braxton rests high above it. On the nightstand, the Box, his hair, my pendant with some of his ashes. But how about the wall, hmm?

What about the tattoo I talk about every week? I was reminded of it today (Saturday) by my third best friend. Braxton, of course, is first, then you, then her. Well, I’ve been in trouble a lot over Braxton. I’m still cringing about the former Day Job and those mats. “JSS,” Just Survive Somehow, she told me. Some framed pics, a chest, a photobook, a stand. I have the first book I wrote for Braxton. I’d like to write another and have other dog books. I never knew how much stuff Braxton had, and here I am, willing to give up everything or plenty because I don’t want to lose you or my family. It’s why I embraced the holidays. They’re easier than my loss.

I’m no repairman or decorator. While being Daddy to our kids brings the greatest joy. A house is not a home without a dog. Or a cat, other furries as well. I’m a dog person. And a spoiled one at that. I saw this black beagle mix named Shay today at Petsmart, who looked so scared. Braxton was meant to be an accessory for my sis, but Shay’s place, um? At least she matched my clothes. Yes, I know a gift for the kids but ask my father about a family pet. Yeah, that’s right, you’ll never meet him. My father taints whatever I love. Loving another Chihuahua, of course. I’m a snob in beauty, in books, and bringing doggies home. Will B Decorating Soon

268 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 113 ~Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’~

It’d be less humiliating to be on my knees to God than how the Day Job had me crawling around Thu. Ironic that it was the shoe lady that had me doing that. What I wouldn’t give to be on the floor playing with B again. Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’

Friday, October 22, 2021

Chronicle 113 ~Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I always have a soft place to land when I fall flat on my face.

So with my Republican ideology. I wish I could bury my head in the sand after yesterday’s humiliations. I did get off the Day Job early but let’s not forget I don’t even have money. This means I’m less than dirt, or should I say lint, as I’m lying in bed all day again. I should go shopping, but I’m already making up excuses. No, the word should be “Lying.” I would have been better off lying there and letting people step all over me. Hell, I was on the floor replacing those damn soft mats. I can do both; indeed, I followed through Sophia. Let’s focus on the lies, though. The fact that I thought, “I’m Gonna Be Somebody.” Now that would be Braxton.

There were days when Braxton would curl up beside my head, and I could go blind with all his hair. I would take one of the days when he would step on my face. How about the lies B would tell to get me to follow him and attempt to do something with this existence? With him around, I had to walk the straight and narrow path because where’s Braxton? Sophia, I try that at my Day Job, ok. Once again, I’m a fucking joke. I hate it there always. What have I been doing all this morning, making mistakes, and why? Comfy spots SIGH. Be it burgers, books, boobs, I spent how much again? The bucks better be there, or is $12.00 hourly it?

“The pessimist looks down and hits his head. The optimist looks up and loses his footing. The realist looks forward and adjusts his path accordingly.”
― The Walking Dead, 07×02

Was my Manager lying to me? It wouldn’t be the first time. Let’s focus on my lie, though. Which was, I wouldn’t be able to get fries for Braxton yesterday. As you can see, ta-da. What would have happened if I had this drive while Braxton was alive? B’s waiting. Another way of lying to myself so I don’t have to look. B III’s in the den waiting for fries. I stay in the dark so I can pretend he’s lying somewhere, and I have to look out for him. Days like yesterday say I should follow him and let his barking drive away, the noise. B III breathing did too. His lies that I’m a good Daddy I can forgive. Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’

264 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 112 ~When Braxton Fries Away~

I talked about food last week. B would be ticked off to see I didn’t bring fries back. I bought a chicken biscuit, and I yelled at McD’s for their STUPID rewards program I never signed up for. B’s brain and belly were linked. When Braxton Fries Away

Thursday, October 21, 2021

Chronicle 112 ~When Braxton Fries Away~

263 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I hope I picked something up but no fries B. I had a chicken biscuit.

Yes, I’m talking to you on a Wednesday. As always, I think back to when it would have mattered. The Wednesday, you cried, and by Thursday, I thought you would be okay. One more thing to be sorry for. I didn’t want to bring you down, and I’m bawling guaranteed. Not over Colin Powell, though. While I was in line today, again Wednesday, I saw the flag at half-staff. I don’t look up most days. I can only imagine what you think of me. You’re higher now, and if I had wings, a cape, a pile of money, I’d make my way up, B III. You have to believe me; I’m still trying, but it’s never enough. I’m talking like no fries for us both.

A day without fries is like a day without sunshine. If I didn’t bring food home, then we walked. Which one was better for you, B? There was no final walk and no last fry when your time came. Time, what did I do with all of mine today? And by Thursday, I’ll be out. I often envision what Hell will be like. Never getting to nap again. Wasting time. Braxton, I remember thinking the police would show up and take me away. Alone again. Is it sitting here, waiting to die? I didn’t even have it in me to make it back downstairs B. I wouldn’t expect you to follow me. I carried you in your old age, but you came up by yourself.

If I had the money, where would you like to eat? I’m sure the Rainbow Bridge has better fries than McDonald’s. Burger King, Seafood & Chicken Box, Red Lantern, etc. I swear, the best places are either fucked-up or closed down. Don’t repeat that language. You’re your father’s son, after all, and I want to keep you on the up and up. Well, unless you feel like taking a trip to visit me. I found some of your bandannas from PetSmart on the floor, and I figured you’d been by. I know I’m in your room every day. Little B. Thursday morning, there will be 263 for all the Days you’ve been gone. There are lots of ways to be empty. When Braxton Fries Away

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 110 ~To B Somewhere Else~

I need a vacation, and I mean a real break. Hell, I haven’t been to the movies in about two years. I went to my second best friend’s wedding. Happy Anniversary, Carolina Bound to you and the hubby. Of course, where was B III then? To B Somewhere Else

Tuesday, October 19, 2021

Chronicle 110 ~To B Somewhere Else~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but sooner or later, I would have found myself sitting there. “Let’s go home, Daddy.”

Not a day goes by where I don’t see that moment. My Ma told me that I’d make room for “Happy” memories. I wish I were Happy with Braxton. Am I Happy with you? A considerable discussion but with Braxton. I was better than I am right now, Love, without question. When I met Braxton, I was a twenty-something boy in my Olds bedroom one night. Remember when I told you that Braxton jumped into my car when they moved away. How many times did I stroll into the house, and Braxton was thrilled I’d returned? Home is where the heart is, and the second B was gone. The first thing was I couldn’t go home. You know exactly where I wanted to go. Rainbow Bridge.

Now I’ve been looking all over the house for a place. I’ve never been one for decoration or art. I mean, there is still Braxton’s room. My oldest hoody, hanging on the door. His meds and what’s left of his food in its place. Treats on the table; Braxton’s Remains. Every day I want to put them in another type of urn. That is if I ever get the nerve to open that box again. Hell, I’m tempted to give him a wall in the bedroom, ok. Do you think I’m mad? I’ll get one of those Cuddle Clones for the foot of the bed. And there is my tattoo. Besides working, my betrayal, and the need for survival, I haven’t been anywhere else Love.

I need a vacation, another bed with you in it, of course. Where do you think we should go? I take it you want a real trip, but I can’t even get up to go to the movies. There was lunch with my second best friend and her hubby, and I’m still so embarrassed now. There’s no escaping fear, shame, I was going to say, the truth. The truth shall set you free. So am I happy with you and the world that we have even without Braxton living? Yes. Do I know that I can’t go on like this always and forever as I told Braxton the same? Yes. Will I ever find ACCEPTANCE in him being gone? My Love, To B Somewhere Else.

261 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will