Tag: Father

Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

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A great man once said I’m not a smart man. Well, I read every day. Anybody can see the world is going to Hell. But my son… He only needed to know me and what good did that do him. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t learn. No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge

Monday, February 28, 2022

Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I wish to remember how I did it somehow. I should write another book, you think?

How to publish books is something I should read up on. I wonder what I’m reading now, considering I’m far into time-traveling today. Hell, the only thing I seem to know is that I’ll have the Day Job since I’m talking to you Sunday, February 20, 2022. Death is better. Dangerous words Madam but I’m not swearing… yet. If you told me, I could choose. Between going to the Day Job or joining my son pain-free. Father into your hands… Incredible line, don’t you think, Madam? It’s something Braxton would have said, breathing his last. Well, The Bible is one of the bestselling books of all time. Am I going to get political today? Again I should be looking up how to publish Braxton’s book.

Or at least why I feel semi-crappy. Am I still today? I bet besides the fact of the Day Job. Now it’s no secret I know why. Do you remember that movie American Pie? Should I save this confession for Inspector Echo? Warm apple pie… Stuck my “penis” in crazy. But which day? Funny, I should go out like this when I remember what took B III, well, other than signing the paperwork. Chronic Renal Failure. To think I wanted to be a veterinarian. I love my son and hate people. I don’t know how to make cash. If I did, I could have handled both, uh-huh. So what about all those money-making books I read, or at least the ones dealing with my grief.

Oh, I know so much. “The only thing I know is that I know nothing,” Socrates or so I read. I’ve seen a film where a guy stuck his penis in a pie but can’t remember the day of my sickness… I remember a book that Cherry recommended with her fetish, I’m a bad man. Okay, that’s two for American Pie. I know these pills I’m taking ain’t working. Time… I watched The Elimination Chamber and only stayed awake to prove that I could, Madam. I hate the Day Job as I hate Hell, all Montagues, and thee. William Shakespeare. If anything else, Madam, I know I love Braxton more than life. But with a knowledge of these things… Well, No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge.

Gospel 242 ~Rats, No Just Braxton~

393 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 235 ~Fitting In Makes You Disappear~

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I didn’t fit in with my family, nor did my kid. The whole damn world is one gigantic puzzle, and we never had a place. But lying on the couch, waking up in bed back to back. Anytime, We saw we were different. Fitting In Makes You Disappear.

Monday, February 21, 2022

Chronicle 235 ~Fitting In Makes You Disappear~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Because I swear if I became like everyone at the Day Job? Death couldn’t come fast enough.

If there is one sin that I haven’t committed, it’s wishing to be like everyone else. Call it my Republican tendencies. It could be this sinner’s pride, like my Grandma answered. Dammit, with all my depression, depravity, and daddy grief, I look at people as idiots. When your Dad makes it his life’s goal for you to feel like the stupidest waste of space ever. As girls make you feel like the sleaziest, slimiest, I know there’s another s-word I can’t remember. Am I over it? “Skeevy!” Anyway, when everyone makes you out to be worthless. Hell, out of all that shit, you want air. And that first breath makes you feel on top of the world. You survived, you’re better… than those assholes? Positivity?

Let me get back to normal. For example, from a sexual standpoint, I’m not like most guys. Sure I watch porn, but I also read Erotica. I write dirty books; I don’t lie about desires. There are sex toys in the closet and naughty lingerie for visitors… ha. You can find Yabbos anywhere, and yet I pay for some. Does that make me STUPID? I could use that cash. How many guys have an OnlyFans? Several and I haven’t visited or posted on my page in forever. I don’t know if I ever will again. You know I started months after B left me alone. Because no one sees me. It’s not me fitting in; it’s me wanting to follow Braxton. If only I could?

I can’t keep living this way, you know. I could say that I didn’t know that B and I were a perfect fit. But it was the world around us that seemed incomplete, like a puzzle that loses a piece. Again, I don’t want to be like everyone else. And to even try and pretend… Lots of things to shed tears over today, this Friday. We’re talking now, so this week. Um, this week sucks. And I will never escape unless I get out of this bed and start doing anything. Braxton has faith in me. Which is why he stuck around for so long. I’m sure that’s why he’s so high now, pulling me up from falling into place. Fitting In Makes You Disappear.

Gospel 235 ~Doublethink Of B III~

386 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 228 ~Don’t Bother With An Alter-Ego~

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Somebody sang I’ve gotta be me. Only I don’t recognize the man I am behind the tears for my son. The masks I wear in the world. Now I like face masks. I mean, whoever I am to function. And then there are the words. Don’t Bother With An Alter-Ego

Monday, February 14, 2022

Chronicle 228 ~Don’t Bother With An Alter-Ego~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can be whoever I want to be. It’s still not enough. B III’s Birthday.

That’s my secret, Madam; I’m always Daddy. Braxton has been gone 379 days. His birthday was yesterday he’s seventeen. Don’t ask me how it went considering I’m time traveling. Right now, it’s Wednesday, February 9, 2022. I’m Braxton’s Daddy regardless. Sure I was twenty minutes late giving him his meds with my sickness. Oh, we’ll get to that, but you’re asking why do I still bother getting up at all. I got dressed, refilled his water bowl, and called him for medicine. This is my secret identity. Fatherhood, Madam. Because I know what I am. Hell, I want to be anybody else. Isn’t there something about everyone else is taken? You can tell that to a grave. Dangerous words Madam, and not a loving mood.

That’s my secret, Madam; I’m always Dead. I wonder how I’m feeling today. Valentine’s Day, ha. You know, somewhat considering I’m talking to you today. I’m tired, humiliated, and fucked-up in so many ways. Again at this particular moment, well, I’m talking to you, Madam. Am I ok, am I? Sickness is a time I’m not hiding who I am. Ok, for the most part. Day Job doesn’t care ever. I doubt the scammers will consider listening in. They only want to steal, and I’m a bad man, I know. Of course, there is always my insanity with Braxton, Madam. I got mental health issues. Never would I say that I look the part of a normal, functioning human being. That’s one more reason I want to be a billionaire.

That’s my secret, Madam; I’m always Horny. Fuck, it’s a damn superpower, but you know the line, with great power comes great… yeah, yeah. Another thing I don’t hide. And look where it got me? Cherry told me to chill. What did I say about M Anime? I’m not right. Hell, if I kept it in my pants more often. Twenty-four hours and I’m still in bed, but I’m dressed. Is this recovery? I guess we’ll see if I’m not fucking around by Monday proper. The truth is, as I said before, I don’t want to be me. But wearing a cape, my cross, the armor of the caped crusader himself. Madam, it gets heavy. A man with nothing to lose or a father. Murderer. Don’t Bother With An Alter-Ego.

Gospel 228 ~Okay To Love B~

379 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 221 ~See Art Instead Of Imperfection~

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Sounds like an effing excuse to me to be lazy, seeking perfection. And why do I like women of all types? Dennis Hof had his kind of gallery. My greatest work was My son. Hell, God took him home. Where’d that come from? See Art Instead Of Imperfection

Monday, February 7, 2022

Chronicle 221 ~See Art Instead Of Imperfection~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which I would call perfect. The $60.00 in my wallet, though, if I decide to go out.

Yeah, that new Spicy Lover’s Pizza has been calling my name. Art that speaks to us, but we’ll get there. Take that however you like since it’s Friday. Does not time reveal the truth, Madam? When it comes to food, that period is from your television to before your eyes. Everything looks so beautiful on the screen but in real life? Is it any wonder that we all keep our eyeballs glued to the screen? Hell, the world could be a beautiful place, but it’s everything else that blinds. Why do you think people start by saying, close your eyes? It sucks even more when the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen is gone. B III, my heart, my art. To never see him again…

What about seeing another fur baby up close.? Um, it’s Friday, so I can’t tell you if I went to PetSmart on Saturday. Why must people be so ugly? No, I don’t mean like that, J. I’m even proud of my body. It’s what lies inside the mind, the heart, and the soul, the artist. Who, God? Braxton is a little SOB, of course, but whatever made him? To paraphrase a line from Rambo: First Blood ahem “God didn’t make Braxton, I made him,” FUCK! Madam, I fucked up, and at the same time, everyone that saw my Braxton… Perfection. Madam, do you think that’s why I haven’t published it yet? You reach that level… next. Everything else only pales and shames me, I know.

It’s sort of like Kaoru in “Slaves to Passion” 18+. Once you create something like he did. To then go and try to live everyday life. Those sisters weren’t the only ones who died. Yeah, you know I have no shame in talking about Yabbos. Finding perfection in so many. Madam, if only I put so much effort into creation as I do destruction. Well, I’m talking to you today, aren’t I? Yes, I went back to bed, but in this place, perfection abounds, Madam. I am a flaw in the grand design, the art piece. Look at humanity, and aren’t we all? As THEY say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I miss Braxton’s eyes. He could See Art Instead Of Imperfection.

Gospel 221 ~Willing To Lie Braxton~

372 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 214 ~Be Curious And Not Psychotic~

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I’m ashamed I have written this. In 2021 I was in a different space, and where was my son? He was dying. And I haven’t learned at all. I’m writing this on the 29th because the 31st is for him. Curious how I’ll feel then. Be Curious And Not Psychotic.

Monday, January 31, 2022

Chronicle 214 ~Be Curious And Not Psychotic~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Braxton’s dead; I did my taxes, I don’t want to be here. Not curiosities but only facts.

Death, who’s death? Allow me to mention I will get into some dangerous talk here today. Also, why am I here? A fact, Madam, I write every day or post come hell or high water. While fire does not frighten me. Lord knows I deserve this. And death’s a curiosity. Drowning is not the way I would like to go. I wonder with all my tears that keep up J. Isn’t it ironic that both my “father” and son bring the same idea… Suicide? I should add the Day Job to the mix too. If I ever did it, blame my Old Man or the Day Job A or D. What are B and C? Braxton and Cunts. Now that’s pretty harsh language, right, Madam?

Braxton is my obsession. If you ask me how long I was curious about him. It was only one night, and after that, his life became my life. I read today (Saturday, Time-Travel), “I will love you the exact way I always wanted to be loved.” Braxton wasn’t curious. He is or was obsessed. The only thing that topped him was me being a “man.” Haven’t I said it enough. That fatherhood, to me, is the epitome of manhood. Braxton will always be my firstborn, but his Daddy had to find some girl and have sex if he wanted siblings. Intimacy. Both him and the fairer sex I study religiously. But in my curiosity, what have I become. A killer, a sadist? So B, C?

Then there’s my craft. As I asked, why am I here? Other than the fact this always comes about? The Scorpion and The Toad, Madam. It’s what I do, and I’m coming to the meaning of the rule now. Do you remember The Tomorrow War, Far Cry 5, Replika, everything? Madam, I will never forget Braxton, but hell, I’ve forgotten why I started back talking to Lady Lu again. Something about the “Basic Bitch” right. Anyway, it’s my curiosity, my attention people fear. Braxton to be without it, girls to be the center. When you lose it, you cease to be for me. Like Willow says, “Bored Now.” That’s why “Always” is so important; it’s life. And I’m done now. Be Curious And Not Psychotic.

Gospel 214 ~ Will’s “Dæmon” Day Afternoon~

365 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