Saga 017 ~Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts~

Somedays, I feel like Han Solo (ha-ha) talking to The Millennium Falcon. “You hear me, baby? Hold together.” After my heart was broken with my kid, what else is there. Everything seems ready to break. “Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts.”

Monday, July 18, 2022

Saga 017 ~Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. This means many things are fixable, replaceable, “new, new,” or trying to last forever. Then there’s love…

And there’s more to it than the body. I know you expect me to be a selfish bastard and talk about myself first, but there’s my boy. The son that I have been writing about. Going on 533 Days now. His body may have broken, but this “crazy little thing called love,” Madam. On one paw, it didn’t save him. On the other, immortality, reincarnation? That’s another thing Madam; “Faith,” all my pop culture references, and all the books I read. Or I was reading before I got into writing a novel all these days, Braxton and me. I haven’t been winning any points for keeping my promises, but I didn’t break one yesterday. I’m on track with Camp NaNoWriMo, somehow, Madam Justice. A miracle?

So explain to me what I was doing from 4:35 AM to 4:55? To quote another song, “Where Is My Mind?” I was breaking it down with a million excuses to deserve laziness. If it isn’t my brain. Then yeah, it’s my own damn body. One will always choose to break the body before the mind. Yabbos make things so much simpler. Afterward? I’ve felt like I need to take a shower after all the dirt, disgust, and depravity from what’s me. I kept asking myself, what was wrong with me? Well, besides the fact I can’t cuddle with B? I mentioned being touch starved in “The Will To B III” And Braxton’s comfy spots. Madam, I’m just breaking the bed, either sleeping or jerking.

Surprised I haven’t broken any of my computers yet with the amount of porn I got. “Ain’t no woman like the one I’ve got.” More like ain’t no porno like the one I got. I’m a pretty sick pup, which insults sick pups, and I apologize. I never fix or cure anything. NaNoWriMo is even an attempt to put off the inevitable. Didn’t I say that if I can complete it, that proves I’m not suffering from fatigue, I’m not fucked up, and I’ll be here forever? So why would I need a doctor? If not me? What about car repairs or something to get out of here. Because this week will be more broken than the last, no doubt. Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts.

533 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 014 ~Book Better B Better~

The book is better than the movie… I read The Hunger Games because of the film. I liked the movie Nerve more than the book. And I love my boy more than writing about him. Might life be better? If I finish Camp NaNoWriMo. Book Better B Better

Friday, July 15, 2022

Saga 014 ~Book Better B Better~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And while I’m speaking that blasphemy, sometimes the books aren’t better. Or at least my books.

The one I’m writing for/with my son. I’m surprised I’m keeping up with it this week, except for Tuesday and “watching” The January 6th Hearings. But I still reached the quota. But every day, the story gets worse and worse, as Braxton’s health did. Yeah, something could be better. B III could be alive and well; I could have been a better parent. Even that would have required me to be a better writer and tell a story. I don’t know how I’ll get through it today with the time it took Thursday. How tired am I? Don’t answer that. And could I stop looking at ta-tas? Would I imagine staying up all night watching B die? Had I known how to save a life?

Speaking of nightmares, I had one last night, which explains my tiredness though it didn’t wake me up. How can something both be graphic and then not? Bloodless yet terrifying. Slimy yet satisfying, Hakuna some Tatas and what else will I beg, borrow, steal writing. I’ve never read The Walking Dead or The Man in the High Castle. But the nightmare was sort of a mixture of both. “Fight the Dead, Fear the Living.” Watched a throat getting slashed in the woods. But again, there was no blood which somehow made it digestible. And then I took care of a boy as we hid out with the “BCR” Black Communist Rebellion. Oh, now I know I’m on some government list. Another excuse to quit writing…

And now I sound like Cherry. But no Lady Sophia. Dare I say I’m getting close to catching up with Camp NaNoWriMo. I’m going all in with my writing. And with the Day Job pay? Anyway, I might not even finish “Blackout: A Thriller” this week because I was so “invested” in my writing. I swear if Kindle fucks me again with Reading Insights! That’s pretty rich, considering how I fucked myself this week. Was it “you know who’s” ta-tas? Or was it the fact that Cora Jade attacked Roxanne Perez? Wrestling’s going TV-14. Still, it’s me and Braxton’s novel that is getting to me. Our lives were better, and that’s saying something, Lady Sophia. There’s still “Gulp.” I’m hoping my Book Better B Better.

530 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 010 ~ Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong~

Hate can be taught, and I had fantastic teachers. I’m sure there’s a better way to say that, but I would instead speak of love. Funny, the best teacher I had there never said a word. And even knowing the why, how? Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong

Monday, July 11, 2022

Saga 010 ~ Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the law doesn’t apply to me… Trump, Bezos, Musk. Worse?

One less thing… unless that “thing” happens to be my son. I can love a dollar. But I’ve never loved anything more than B. And the thing is, I didn’t know how to love him. Fifteen years? I’d lie to his Aunt Carolina about getting him some doggie steps. Flying? Oh yes, my boy is flying now, all thanks to me. Or he’s saving me a spot by the fire. He could be waiting alongside Cerberus, barking, “is he here yet.” Soon? But we’ll get to that, Madam. As I could give you all these quotes about love or again how I continue defining it. I see myself as more of a murderer than ever being merciful. Love’s fucking confusing. And being STUPID about it…

“Yeah, baby, when it comes to females.” I can say I’m not in love with anyone. Of course, “I’ll always love my mama.” I care for Braxton’s aunts. One more than the other, um yeah. Lust though? I find ways to fuck that up too. You should have heard me talking to Cherry Sunday. And then when I imagine bedding M Anime… And before them? It has been six years. Lucky? As in getting lucky? Um, that’s more of a talk for Inspector Echo. All the writing I have to do today. But yesterday, it was all about Yabbos. Keeping it in my pants, ha-ha. What pants? I wasted the entire day not loving myself. Or my craft. There was the Man in the Mirror.

You know the guy I’m killing every day. Because I can’t follow Morgan Freeman’s advice as “Go on and do it EXPEDITIOUSLY!” Well, not since Braxton saved my life before. Braxton knew how to love me. He never worried about right or wrong. All my little boy saw was, “these people upset my daddy.” So he’d spend his days at his gate barking up a storm. It took him around four months to trust his Aunt Carolina. Hell! Anyone who loved filling him up with food. He’d trust with daddy’s life. Treachery, Betrayal, not B. Because he only knew love. Like father like son? Love power. But what to do with it, Madam? Who or what do we become? Love is a miracle. Bad miracle? Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong

526 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

I could tell the tails of every toy B had, every comfy spot he ever chose, and every name he went by. Yet what I hold most near and dear to me? I should be ashamed. All ten, eight, he died at six pounds… Then there’s my phone! “There B Treasure Here”

Friday, July 8, 2022

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But nothing is worth more than my son Braxton. What’s that Whitney song, You Were Loved?

Dammit, when will I say such things! I’m still time traveling today, Sunday, July 3, 2022. And I care more about sleep than I do my own son? I could be working on my, his, um, our novel today? But of course, if it’s not sleeping I treasure, then it’s my uncanny ability to tell lies. As I said, it is Sunday, which means I have talked to the man in the mirror. Hate that! Because, like in my everyday life, I have to put on a show, keep secrets, and smile. And the song “Smiling Faces Sometimes” sigh. I value Braxton’s but never my own. Inevitably, I’ll keep digging myself deeper into the hole which is my bed. For fuck’s sake, man, stay awake!

And without the porno! I swear, Lady Sophia, I wasted a damn hour trying not to click on anything. I swear, besides my Pancake, there’s my phone, porno, and always and forever my penis. There be treasure? In the closet, that drawer, my fucking head. Apologies for my language, but you wouldn’t like me when I’m just hanging out, horny, or haughty. Yeah, I’m writing or not a National Bestseller. Hell! If we finish our conversation on time, I still won’t write. I’ve been planning forever to complete an outline. There’s also been the promise of having a doctor dig into me and pull out whatever is wrong with me. Did I tell you that story of my ear and how I learned about Bukkake?

I treasure the stories that help me sleep. One more reason I’m listening to Succubus Lord 5 now. There are only so many times I can tell myself about games I have no time to play. Pornos don’t have plots… That’s a damn lie. After I finally honor my son and make good on the spending on that publishing company. Pure Taboo, Second Circle Creations? Until then, I continue wearing the hoodie I carried Triple B in for many years. His room remains a museum of everything. I even thought of getting a black treasure chest, ha. Should I ever try again, a furry kid? B is so heavy as is. And now Fuck! Dropping my heart more than my phone. There B Treasure Here

523 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 003 ~My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills~

A fan of the “Fever” series. You can tell from the title. I’m a fan of Freedom and Fear too. Not enough of the one. Too many of two this Independence Day. My hope is not in Evangelical white men but in my son… oh. My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills

Monday, July 4, 2022

Saga 003 ~My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. (Puts on his powdered wig). And is that not the American dream. Violence, Wealth, XXX? Oh, doggies?

I wouldn’t be worried about the first three if I was busy comforting Braxton. Between last night, especially today. And Hell, should I write off this whole week? I know you’re saying, “just write, dammit,” ha-ha. Anyway, that is my hope for today. Writing, trying. Isn’t that how America got started? It is Independence Day, after all. Only as I told M Anime yesterday. Unless you’re a white Evangelical man, you woke up with far fewer rights in how long? I’ve never put much of my hope in the government. And I didn’t need The 1619 Project to tell me that wealth is the answer. What about education, um, ok. I read every day, despite Kindle robbing me of 526 days. What about Braxton, 519?

I spoke of Violence, Wealth, and XXX. What of Hope, Fear, but today there’s Freedom? My hope was B. Every single day that there was someone who loved me unconditionally. As far as Fear… where do I even begin? At this second, don’t let me fall back into my bed. Freedom is the fact that I have a choice. And that is a box of worms. Bad choice of words. Only worse would be things like “for wrath, for ruin.” My rage? Still beats depression. Madam, lots of money could do that too. Sometime yesterday, I said, a million dollars. Yet with all the fireworks that went off yesterday and that will assail the skies today. I want to make something else go boom, sigh.

The fact that I might see some Yabbos. If that’s what it takes for me to have any hope, ha. Could it be one more promise that I would see my son again in one way or another, I hope. That somehow or someway, I will find him alive, reincarnated, or like Darth Vader, sister. If I’m not too busy being a selfish bastard over B III’s loss, what about hope for my country, Madam. Will freedom return here someday? I’ve said so many times that my Braxton saw me through the plague but now a Civil War. Like something out of Chronicles of Narnia. Only you know where the title is from, the “Fever” series. But so much Fear… My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills

519 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

5 years of writing. What do I have to show for it? Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels (B III died during this), and Chronicles. And now it’s the first of the month. On the first day of “Camp NaNoWriMo.” Tomorrow’s a new blog year. Letters Other Than B.

Friday, July 1, 2022

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And yet I’m greedier than Cupiditas. Yes, I’m listening to Succubus Lord yet again. Saving money?

Bills? More like the cost of living. And yes, I said letters other than B. But B III always comes first. Or at least he should have. If he had, I wouldn’t be sitting here writing about him. Hell! I’m not. Today I have to worry about money on top of all the political bullshit. “Time Enough At Last” or not. This morning I figured I would give myself seven and a half hours. Thursday, it was only seven. It doesn’t matter; I’m forever tired. Is it the bed, me being “Down With The Sickness?” No, not COVID, Lady S. I’m a “Lazy Ass” sigh. And there’s so much to do. Braxton was so patient. Another reason to miss him. I tell myself my lies.

“Stuff And Thang.” Because I broke again yesterday working on my OnlyFans. Do I even have the stones to tell my “Fans” that I’ll be disappearing for a month? And of course, you know why that is. You see what day it is? The start of Camp NaNoWriMo. Holy Shit! Numbers Lady Sophia. What do I have to show for my fifth year of blogging? All because of the “Basic Bitch.” These Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels, and Chronicles. I even had to look for a new word today. As of right now, I’m going with Sagas. Um, yeah, that works… Why not one more picture of Triple B and me. I need another quote for Facebook. Does any of it matter, Sophia? I don’t know.

Booking another stay at the dining room table. Or at least I should. But there is so much to do today, I keep saying. “The Will To B III” should be at the top of that list; I know that. Yet what have I been doing for the past few minutes? Ignoring my porn collection? Essential reading I need to do? Who am I to say that? At least “Tails of Unconditional Love: Your Journey to the Other Side of Pet Loss Grief” is a book out there. Inevitable? One more word on repeat. Thinking I will be on a bookshelf someday soon. I’m starting to sound like Cherry. But talking like Todd, wanting… TLC Tits, Lips, and Clits. Need more. Letters Other Than B

516 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 361 ~Strike First, Hard, No Mercy~

So a fan of Cobra Kai, and when did Karate Kid come out? Life was much simpler, at least for me, way back when. And I even took Karate for a little bit. Now I never want to get out of bed. Life (and death) is one for Strike First, Hard, No Mercy

Monday, June 27, 2022

Chronicle 361 ~Strike First, Hard, No Mercy~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because of this rule. Now that’s according to my motivations: America and Cobra Kai. Funny?

Are there people up before me? Eric Thomas? I haven’t listened to him in forever. Someone else I can blame for Braxton. My highly motivated ass, and for what? All so I could get to the library before anybody else, and for what. All to write my stories. Oh ok. How long has it been? How many novels have I written? Hell! How do I feel about this week? I woke up this morning on time once again. Upon checking my schedule, I burst into tears. Second time crying today, and it hasn’t even been an hour and a half, Madam. I’m not sure tears on my pillow are what they meant by striking first. To attack life, embrace it, hell fuck it. Meaning um…

Anyway, hard is what I know about. Yeah, in case you’ve wondered what’s taking me so long to get this out. Ok, I’ll stop with all the sex talk. And looking at Jill Valentine. In case you’re wondering where I got your body from. She fought Nemesis in Resident Evil. Nemesis was the monster. But in Greek mythology, she was the goddess of “Revenge, Retribution, and Fortune.” But you’re not here to talk about some recent studies, I know that. If I struck or instead stroked my hard… yes, I know, I’m trying, but soft Yabbos make life pretty damn hard. What about the Day Job, my dog dying, and all my dangerous thoughts? I can’t fight these things. So as far as striking hard.

No mercy? I must be talking about my bed because I never leave it. I swore yesterday; I thought I was turning over a new leaf. My body has no mercy on my mind, or is it the other way around? I always come up with a new excuse, or something else will hurt me. If anything, I have no mercy on myself for what happened to B III. But should I ever, Madam. Staying here in my own Hell is precisely what I deserve. What more is there, hmm? Again I look to the number of this chronicle. One more year down for a crime that’s nothing compared to B III. My skeeviness, sins, and shames at this moment. Strike First, Hard, No Mercy.

512 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 358 ~BEING Sick Of Love~

Notice I didn’t mention my father. Talk about love being a memory if it were ever there. But what about the things I know I love, my puppy, money in my pocket, amongst other things> Love never dies, THEY say. No wonder “BEING Sick Of Love.”

Friday, June 24, 2022

Chronicle 358 ~BEING Sick Of Love~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so “For The Love Of Money,” I’m “Happy?” Now you know that ain’t true, Lady Sophia.

Hell! Twitter is renowned for making people unhappy. So a few days ago, I was made unhappier… I suppose. Now forgive me because you ain’t Inspector Echo, and I don’t want to sound like that “asshole” that came at the girl. A popular Youtuber’s proposal… This girl I’m a fan of because of The Walking Dead is getting married. So what? What do my feelings in this equation even matter? What about all the other influencers, models, and sex symbols. If anything, Lady Sophia, my story is one of being a horny fanboy and nothing more. Then there’s the promise I always made to B III. “I’ll find you a mother.” If anything, Braxton was my soulmate. So what did I need a woman for?

Oh, that’s right, I love my son, my little B, but then I became indifferent, or so I want to say. But again, I love money. I want to make as many bucks as I can. And like The 1619 Project was talking about… Wealth. The last bit of knowledge that I gleaned yesterday, Sophia. Then again, I’m sitting here in bed because, as Eric Thomas says, I love sleep more than success. That’s for damn sure! Everything in me wants to go back to sleep right now. That’s especially after, as I said, I finished reading The 1619 Project. I love books. But to read all those biography notes and such in it. I know I don’t have to, but… Time for getting blowjobs?

Not really. I’m pretty versatile regarding my porn viewing habits and whacking. Sigh, I was whacking. That’s what I was doing. Well, after I struggled to put together the new weed whacker. Now I’ve defined love for you before, so answer me this. Why do I love the things that I hate so much? The Day Job, cutting the yard; for a dog, I don’t have anymore. Sophia, let’s not forget disease. I’m still sick but don’t want to see a doctor. The fucking dollar bills. “Another” furry kid or finding some girl. Lady Sophia, there is love all around me “to a certain degree.” And I want none of it. The good, the bad, the ugly. I’m done with love. I want to be but BEING Sick Of Love.

509 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 354 ~Before, Forgiveness, Permission, Ask Why~

There are two, a dog and a girl. I never needed to beg forgiveness or ask permission. My son B and his Aunt. Yes, I did for many things, but I mean to keep breathing. To be who I was/am. Everyone else? “Before, Forgiveness, Permission, Ask Why.”

Monday, June 20, 2022

Chronicle 354 ~Before, Forgiveness, Permission, Ask Why~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, so forgiveness and permission no longer matter. At least from what I’ve seen. America! But the Why…

What is your reason, the why? You’ll have to forgive me, Madam. It’s been a long time since I’ve listened to my motivations. No wonder Sloth is quickly ha-ha becoming my favorite sin. Then again, I’m talking to you on Tuesday, June 14, 2022, Time-Traveling. Madam, I wouldn’t have the strength to speak to you today. Hell! This fucking week. Pardon my language. Now you’re not Inspector Echo. None of the people are around me. And yet I’m always sorry. Do you know what that’s like to be sorry for the mere act of existence? Dangerous words but true. But the thing I’m sorriest for is not over any person. I’m not sorry for being Braxton’s daddy, but how it ended. Being a father: why?

How many times have I said it? I told B III to get in the car, and that was that. From the new house to this place, he followed. Only day one, he was my sister’s puppy. I begged and pleaded for a dog when I was young, and nothing. My sister never uttered anything. Inevitable that a fur baby would end up in her arms. I didn’t ask; I didn’t steal. I only loved him, and I love him still. One more blessing from him never talking, my little boy. Again it goes back to existing. Do you remember that movie “Love Story?” Famous Lines. Love means never having to say you’re sorry. What about asking permission to be? Forgiveness, permission, I ask both.

But why? There are reasons I hate taking one step out of this place. There was a teacher that said I was the politest person ever. Only who the Hell was I, Madam. Then, today? I don’t know, but that goes for plenty of things. Why am I alive and Braxton isn’t? I still can’t believe he’d ask my forgiveness for not staying and permission to go away. As I know, my Little B. He was sorry that I was worried, that he wasn’t strong enough, that I cried. He wanted my permission to come back home with me. To fight, to try to B. And I know why? It’s love. Without his, I ask forgiveness and permission. It’s exhausting. Before, Forgiveness, Permission, Ask Why

505 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 351 ~B On The Clock~

Sleep, nature’s call, back to bed, yabbos, a few more minutes gaming, music, YouTube, nap, and then hearing a noise. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I wasted four hours from 4:00 to 8:00. B wouldn’t have ever allowed it. “B On The Clock.”

Friday, June 17, 2022

Chronicle 351 ~B On The Clock~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so am I still waking up at 4:00 AM? How about 3:00? Well, B ain’t here.

Is that why “Every Day Is Exactly The Same,” Sophia. The fact that I feel like an “Every Day Normal Guy 2?” It’s strange wanting to stick to a routine and, at the same time. You know, a phrase like (another day) pisses me off. I’ll never forget such indifference. It’s how B died, after all. The fact that B was always there. And I took that for granted. But I could look to him at the foot of the bed, and it would be a new beginning Sophia. Braxton would begin running all over my face to go walking by seeing the light outside. And when he left, time seemed to stop, but here I am and what now 502 days. And the time…

I wish I could remember a time I wasn’t hurting. Hell! All our conversations are based on a time I was hurt. What four years ago? And what have I learned since then, Sophia? Nada. But we’ll get into that in a bit. Me and my fucking fetish for brunettes. All Yabbos in truth. But if you had seen me earlier. Here’s a hint “American Beauty.” Then again, um, UK. The only way time doesn’t seem so HARD is when I’m sleeping, and you know what I want to say. I wish I could sleep… and I won’t finish that idea. Dangerous Words; written down. Speaking of which, shouldn’t I be working on my novel? Well, B III’s novel, really. Maybe he understands my reluctance.

I hate myself, Lady Sophia. When I miss filling his water bowl. Or calling him down for his medicine sometimes. And here I thought I was lifting him up. “It’s Not Putting Me Down It’s Lifting Me Up,” as the book goes. I didn’t trust Braxton was looking down on me this morning. Sophia, that’s why I was in the drawer this morning reaching for, as the kids say, the gat, heat, strap, whatever. Vey wrong choice of words but, as always, Republican tendencies. Guns! Morning officially started after checking the doors. I heard a noise. Triple B waking me? And I wonder where he is now if he’s already reincarnated and is waiting, Sophia. Inevitably with my luck, it will take god knows how long. B On The Clock

502 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will