Tag: Father

Chronicle 015 ~B Not Another Day~

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Did this day stand out in any way other than “That’s How You Know You Messed Up?” At least I have an idea for another chapter of Braxton’s book. If I am writing Braxton’s book. I’m not even at 25,000 words yet. “B Not Another Day”

Friday, July 16, 2021

Chronicle 015 ~B Not Another Day~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be; if I were more creative and not working the Day Job. Time-Travel

Back to those vet visits in February, and no, not the last one. I mean, the ones I knew B III would be leaving ok and alive. It wasn’t a holiday but a mark on the passage of time. I’d take him in for his yearly exam, and then the idea was to keep him out of there till next. To be fair, this year, his appointment was on January 8, 2021. Then there was the 29th and finally the 31st. Of course, what he didn’t see in February was his 16th birthday. A trip to the vet and his birthday netted the same reward… McDonald’s. B’s birthday was more. Now, if you’re wondering why I’m going over B’s history, yes, there is his book.

I’m trying to find days that were “important” to us and had an actual date too. For example, I’ve said that my “Emergence Day” is no longer the worst day of my life. Yet B was here to see me through 15 of them. I sooner do his math than mine, and so 166 Days. Come November, Thanksgiving Day, which to B III was his Christmas. There was more than enough for us both when my mom would deliver our meal. I’ve said it feels weird when I don’t have to share. These eyes are bigger than my stomach, I told his aunt at lunch. Now that wasn’t another day. Life attempts to be Every Day Is Exactly the Same, but Everything Is Different Now.

Like Christmas, do I go and visit my Olds? Hell, could I do that even if I wanted to for brunch? I wouldn’t go because B III wasn’t invited. It’s not like the two of us celebrated but isn’t that a time for family. When/If I have some family, don’t I plan on it, Sophia? How I wish to remember the day that B hopped in the car, and we drove away, us two ha. I want the day back when we sat on the porch, and I said, “It’s just us now B III, ok?” What about the day before when I finally came back to my Olds, and B III saw me, sniffles? I’m listening to his playlist because; B Not Another Day.

166 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 011 ~Know Real Or Not Real~

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You love me, Real or Not Real? Now I never had to ask B that question, but sometimes he gave me a look. With everything after his passing, I don’t know what to believe anymore. It’s like I’m constantly dreaming while I’m awake. Know Real Or Not Real.

Monday, July 12, 2021

Chronicle 011 ~Know Real Or Not Real~

Hundred And Ninety-Sixtieth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which of course, is not real. Now do I want to be?

Real, always and forever, like my little Braxton. Of course, I say that now about the money because I’m highly motivated and you know why Madam. Come next Sunday, I see one more FAILURE. Oh yeah, and once again, I’m time-traveling, meaning, yes, I wasted another weekend not working on Braxton’s book. If I hadn’t wasted so many days, would I be Richard Branson? That kind of money, muscle, and mindset should be Not Real. Yes, I should have said unreal, but you know where this rule comes from, Madam. Hunger Games, Mockingjay, Katniss, Peeta. As the song goes, “This is no ordinary love.” Did I know what love was before him? Hell, my Ma is going to kill me if you ever ask her.

I’m sitting here, pretending to do something, telling myself, I’ll work on Braxton’s novel after. Do you know why I hate liars so much? I look in the mirror; I see the damage lies do. If you want the truth, I’m hungry. As I told Carolina Bound, my arm is okay, but no sudden movements. I got two books from Amazon, one for both heads. I’m always so tired now. If I want Not Real, all I need do is look at my list of Six Impossible Things. That pretending was seeing how much I don’t have to write, counting up Braxton’s letters. It’s playing around with the chicks on Onlyfans. Of course, my own Stuff And Thangs ain’t nothing to talk about for sure.

Telling the difference between what you feel and what’s real is getting harder to do. I don’t know all of what The Capitol did to Peeta in Mockingjay, but I’m more room 1408, so I think. What I need is some of that Room 101 motivation. Would that make Braxton Big Brother; everything for him? Or what about “Wanted,” shooting the wings off of a fly. I wanted to say something else, but people would take me for suicidal instead of. What, depressed, discontent, disgusting? I have to focus on something, anything else. Braxton Is Real. It could be the fact that I ducked when I heard “gunshots” just now. I’m alive, I’m real, Madam Justice, and you? Is it a question of Real or Not, more or less? I have rules for a reason. Know Real Or Not Real

162 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 008 ~A Chapter To B~

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Friday, July 9, 2021

Chronicle 008 ~A Chapter To B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so does that mean I can finally get some sleep? Seeing how far I’ve come now…

Hell No! If anything, I owe 3000 words. Maybe less if you count all of my B III letters. The truth is, for today, I’m pretty wiped out, and I still have much farther to go. I do mean outside the house. At least I have been writing about Braxton in novel form every day. Okay, that’s a lie. I added a hundred words on NaNoWriMo once so I could win the daily badge. Being a half-ass writer as I was being a half-ass Daddy. So what is my excuse this week, other than the vaccine’s side effects? “Fatigue” sounds like a made-up word Sophia. If I haven’t said it before (yeah, right), I got my second dose coming up. There’s also lunch with Carolina.

Other than work and keeping myself existing, my story has been within these walls. I had the silly notion last night that I would go to the movies today. So I’m all dressed up, but that’s because again, (ahem) EXISTENCE, EXISTENCE, EXISTENCE! Too much! Today going on and on about Braxton got me into such a mood and not really “Fiddler on the Roof.” I’m more like “In The Sun” is that why I’m wearing my yellow hoodie today? Again not Acceptance. I’ll never get tired of the color black and B’s hippy collar. So you’re asking why I am not telling a B III story right this second. After 2,300 words, would Braxton be sick of hearing about himself? And yeah, I still suck.

Even Facebook nailed me talking about the vaccine the other day and dying. Hmm, I’d be worried if I didn’t know that I would get my ass up and go whenever the Day Job calls. If B III hadn’t been suffering, I would have held him and never ventured out. Interesting, another story Lady Sophia, the path not taken. They could have given him medicine to make him eat. Braxton would never make it to 100%, but he would have lived longer. I’m never one to put something off unless it’s good for me. Braxton’s life, publishing a book, games, movies, music. As the song goes, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” A life without B, Lady Sophia? A Chapter To B

159 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 004 ~Crushes And Stalkers, Fiction, Nonfiction~

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I don’t remember when I wrote this rule. But, I was in a group reading of alpha males, with flawless women on the covers. Or shirtless dudes. In their world, specific actions and words well… “Crushes And Stalkers, Fiction, Nonfiction.”

Monday, July 5, 2021

Chronicle 004 ~Crushes And Stalkers, Fiction, Nonfiction~

Hundred And Ninety-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford to lie in bed all day, now to turn off everything… right?

This is the perfect rule for today, as I’m starting a new year of Will’s Writings, Witticisms, & Wisdom. As THEY say, a “tale as old as time,” song as old as rhyme. I started all this because of a girl I’d rather not talk about, but when have fingers cared? From Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels, and now here we have a new Chronicle. I’m still talking about females. But it’s been Braxton for the most part for the past One Hundred and Fifty-Five days. Don’t worry, Madam Justice, we’ll get to him. Only we must go back. There was Lesson 001 ~Look Who Grossed Up~. I thought I had a Crush; she thought I was a Stalker. No, she said SKEEVY, at first, yeah.

Even then, Braxton was here, and I thought of myself as a Daddy. No, I was only a BOY WITH A BLOG (and a dog). To be fair, I would kill to be that SKEEVY BOY WITH A BLOG again, if only for B’s sake. Five years I’ve been here, “Oh I’ve Wasted My Life.” Madam, to think wronging the Basic Bitch and I believe around ten different women was bad. My crime now is simple, and again you’ve heard me go on and on about this. I killed Braxton. I killed my son, my best friend. All with the hatred for this godforsaken universe. Now that B III’s gone, my holy trinity, it sure is. And I’m his prophet. Am I writing his Bible?

For once, I’m hoping with Time Travel and all, today is June 30, 2021; I’m writing the truth. Now that gets me back to today’s “perfect” rule. You see, life is not some porno, erotica, or even a bit of softcore. The things I do, acceptable with money, manhood, might. No face as hideous as my face as the song goes. In fiction, I’m good, but for real, I’m skeevy. No one on Earth can tell me this. B III wasn’t my son, my firstborn, yet THEY will keep telling me he was only a dog. I wasn’t a parent; B III was not my family for fifteen-plus years, Madam. Words have power. They make us “Real or Not Real.” Crushes And Stalkers, Fiction, Nonfiction.

155 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 001 ~Life On The B-Side~

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Five years ago today, I started writing this blog. An anniversary… you know if you’ve been reading how I feel about holidays… anyone, anyone? To think, when I started, it was because of a “girl” and now the loss of my little boy. “Life On The B-Side”

Friday, July 2, 2021

Chronicle 001 ~Life On The B-Side~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Would that be enough for paradise, Heaven? “Oh, where, oh where has my little dog gone?”

My Lady, this isn’t how I wanted to start the “Chronicles….” Yes, this is the hill I’ll die on, as THEY say. I hoped I had more time to think about it, but seeing how I’m talking to you on a Tuesday afternoon. Say it with me, AHEM, TIME TRAVEL, TIME TRAVEL. So work sucks. Now I mean the Day Job without question, and didn’t I admit today that I love writing. However, something I love to accomplish, playing God. Another famous writer wrote this. “God Is Cruel.” Forgive me, Sophia, for daring to think so presumptuous as fucking right. Aren’t I full of books today, first Stephen King? And now Margaret Atwood with “Under His Eye.” I feel Braxton today. Every moment, I disappoint.

Here I am at the beginning of my fifth year of blogging, and to be honest, I can’t really remember why I started. Dammit, the Basic Bitch, but it was the PAIN, want of lust. Writing is me at my most masochistic. One more reason in a hundred, a thousand. Could it be a million that I miss my son? To think if he were here now, little dæmon Braxton. Am I writing about him today? Did I yesterday? Again I’m looking ahead. Only I never saw his death coming. Yet one more painful moment kick-starting my writing once again. Because with enough pain Lady Sophia, I will become the man I wish to be. A billionaire, a bad man, someone who belongs on Earth.

I was already that and more when Braxton would look up at me from his pillow. Five years ago, when I wrote of the Basic Bitch, I wanted to prove I wasn’t the man she thought I was. I want to show Braxton that I am the man he believed in with his last breath. Sophia, be it the Rainbow Bridge or wherever he’s watching me, he lives in me. And I want to quit being this failure, fiend, and fuck-up. I am his father, his daddy, the man who will tell his story to the world. I didn’t do so much of that today, sigh Time Travel. Today should be meaningful, don’t you think. Braxton should’ve known the A-Side, but… Life On The B-Side.

152 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 362 ~Though Routine, War Never Changes~

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Whenever I left, I’d tell my son, “I love you, B, I love you, Braxton.” Then I’d face the world and return full of Fear, Anger, and Hate. He made sure I wouldn’t suffer alone. I didn’t notice his routine changing. “Though Routine, War Never Changes.”

Monday, June 28, 2021

Gospel 362 ~Though Routine, War Never Changes~

Hundred And Ninety-Fourth Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should be screaming at someone, screwing someone over. And still sleeping like a baby.

The routine of what I call my life… When B died, routine is what kept me running or instead shambling. To this day, 148, to be exact, I continue to do everything in my Denial. What I can’t seem to figure out; when it comes to the Day Job, is which is worse, Madam? It’s not “Another Day,” I can’t show that indifference anymore. But it was Anger that led to me ignoring my son. No answer is good for me, and why the fuck should I care what the Day Job thinks? Pardon my French, but here I am on this Sunday; Time-Travel, SIGH. The mere thought of the Day Job. “It makes my blood boil. Turns my eyes to flames,” like the song.

I don’t think I ever spoke about what happened with the signs at the Day Job. Once again, why do I give a damn? I screwed the company over, or routine; every moment is my failure. It’s me being STUPID. Next to Braxton’s loss, stupidity is the worst feeling in the world. The third would be that night remembering the Basic Bitch. Fourth, failing to know success. I said this morning that I screwed myself over this weekend. Not doing a thing to help myself. M Anime and I talked, and she’s expecting a war, and I swear I want peace. So why is it I like to fight, to be filled with rage like one of those Infected in “Patient Zero.” Remember the peace

Braxton and I, sitting on the couch. I would read, and he would sleep, perfectly content. I would wake up in bed. And he’d be sitting on the foot, watching the door. The walks we shared together when it was only us. Brothers, warriors he and I but grateful moments. It was always my promise to give him anything, everything, but that’s not the purpose of war. “War can’t give life. It can only take it away.” It feeds on itself, Madam Justice. Yet we continue, and why? It becomes our routine. For only a little while fifteen years, Madam. At least I had an ally, and I wonder why my rage overflows these days. I am The Walking Dead. Though Routine, War Never Changes.

148 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Gospel 359 ~Braxton FOUR The Win~

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The Laws of Four are very different from the Laws of Eight from The Postman. Excuse me, I’ve been watching a lot of movies lately. I always need the background noise, and still, I tell myself stories to get to bed at night. Braxton FOUR The Win.

Friday, June 25, 2021

Gospel 359 ~Braxton FOUR The Win~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m still wondering what steps I took. I know the law… NONE with that money.

Rule Number Four, Braxton, don’t crap in the house. B III and I aren’t rich men, but I was always hoping. His whole life, well, um, the last five years of it, he only had four rules to obey. I shouldn’t even call this a law. If anything, it was being polite; there were times. Rule Number Three, never be afraid to ask me for anything; stealing isn’t necessary. If that sounds sane, it’s from Boyz In The Hood. You know The Pancake Story, or uh call it the “waffle” or “French Toast,” hmm. The first time B ever stole from me, well second, ha. He stole my heart when I met him. I’ll never forget those four little legs so confused trying to run.

Rule Number Two, “I don’t care if you’re sick as a dog or in bed with Beyonce. I call, you show.” That’s from, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, arguably the worst in the franchise. It’s also a law B III lived about 80% when he was well and 100% when he’d get sick. He didn’t want me to worry, not that I called him at all those last days. He walked to his water bowl, he hid under the bed when I doted on him, he stood on the seat. Lady Sophia, I continue to call on him daily, for his meds, for his strength, to hear my voice. Otherwise, I would never speak at all. When I start talking to myself …

“All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke.” ― The Road

Rule Number One, don’t bite the hand that feeds you. I can count the number of times Braxton bit me with one hand. I’m lucky to have the two, and I can only remember one bite, really. It was the time he decided to terrorize my OLDS neighborhood. I grabbed him, and he nearly took my thumb off. That leads us back to rule four because I was so angry I wasn’t walking him, so I suppose my mom did. Another moment he got close to biting, bath time, and he was punished or rewarded… B had to go to the groomers from then on. Sophia, it makes me wonder did I hurt him? I killed him… there’s been no justice. Braxton FOUR The Win.

145 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 355 ~Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die~

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I don’t want to Accept, Acclimate, or Adapt to B’s passing. I broke one vow, but the one I spoke on January 31st, “everything stays the same,” remains unbroken. I look around, and he’s still here but to survive. “Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die”

Monday, June 21, 2021

Gospel 355 ~Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die~

Hundred And Ninety-Third Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I suppose it will take getting used to. Sonless, sinless, salvation

Sonless… my first Father’s Day without Braxton in fifteen years. Well, seeing as how I’m writing this on Wednesday. Speaking of time, I never planned on Braxton, and yet I want to be a Dad to another furbaby and others someday. Only, I’m learning Adaptation. Another word for my hate list is Normal or New Normal. Neither term is ideal, but at least with Normal, I had B III. Again, one of today’s words is Adaptation because with Evolution? It seems so far away. Even though it’s been 141 Days Madame. Existence moves ever forward. Is that my way of saying “Life, Uh, Finds a Way” or “Existence Locates a Path?” Is it the man or the road? In a way, I think it’s both.

“There’s a saying – 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.” TWD

“Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?”
― Garth Nix, Sabriel

Sinlessness is, of course, impossible. As the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus,” or at least I want to avoid a “political” discussion at the moment. I understand Jesus, though, because if I could take all of Braxton’s bad upon myself, I would. Only B III died. Madame, I let him go, and what did I receive? Braxton’s out there somewhere happy. These days I get to explore who I am, and every time I look in the mirror, I hate myself. Ok, now I’ve said J, I got cash, ha. Oh, “but in the end, it doesn’t even matter,” Linkin Park. I drift farther and farther away from the Daddy that Braxton honestly knew to become… I don’t know or care.

Salvation is beyond my reach because while I can’t adapt to life without Braxton, “I Don’t Wanna Die.” Isn’t this what they mean by a “Mad World.” Will I stop with all the music references? I broke my vow last week but with this one, who knows. There’s clarity now. Like Super Mario knowing that his quest will never end as there’s always another journey. So he adapts from being a plumber to whatever he needs to be. Yet didn’t he forget his brother eventually, his princess, and even the real world for a time? He wants to survive despite everything and anything. I want to say I’m not sure, but of course, I’m still here, isn’t that right, Madame? Unless I’m lucky, Time Travel. Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die

141 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 352 ~Good And B Days~

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I’ve never been one for holidays. I hate my birthday, I’m sure I forgot my “father’s” this week and the last holiday Braxton, and I could have had… Hell, I didn’t even buy him another plushy. “Good And B Days,” good on Juneteenth, but where’s B again

Friday, June 18, 2021

Gospel 352 ~Good And B Days~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and there’s plenty I want to do. Bring Braxton back, buy an island, make a holiday.

I should say something about Juneteenth. Could I get the COVID vaccine today to celebrate freedom or Saturday, hmm? Um, yep, I woke up late again today but then again, so did Texas. Am I cracking jokes, Lady Sophia? Is today awfully good, awesomely bad? Any day B had food in his mouth was good for him; Thanksgiving, Christmas, B-Day. Let’s start with Thanksgiving, which to him was his Christmas. My Ma always sends something over, which would mean plenty of sharing. Now, aren’t I terrible because I did to Braxton what SOME did to the Native Americans? One good meal, a disease, and a trail of tears ever since. Have I offended you yet? To think history was once my favorite subject Lady Sophia.

Like having Christmas Brunch with my Olds, of course, that was when B III and I still lived with them. When we “moved out,” most holidays became a distant memory. Can I use not giving Braxton something else to pee on as an excuse? I didn’t get him a gift. Sophia, how many times have I told that story of our last Christmas? We spent it here, no Santa, no sleigh, a relatively Silent Night. It wouldn’t be if we were ever invited to brunch again, or do I have that wrong? We would be deaf by the end as he barked up a storm. What I wouldn’t give to hear that bark again. It’s July, but I’ll feel about Christmas as Sheldon Cooper does.

Or how about Leonard on his birthday? You know how I feel about my “Emergence Day.” Braxton and I never made a big deal out of my Emergence or his Birth. I don’t even remember celebrating it. Not until it was only Braxton and me, leading to a problem. Okay, so I’m a broken record, but we never knew the exact day. Well, our lonesome vet appointments began in February. I know on the fifteenth that’s half-price chocolate day and a cleaning nightmare. I didn’t have a lover on Valentine’s, so the thirteenth was practical, his birthday. Braxton has refused to eat twice in his life. So Braxton overate on his birthday once. Then on the last days before his death. Good And B Days.

138 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 348 ~A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret~

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Conan became a King. He sat upon his throne with a troubled brow. Before, his life was full of high adventure. Only now, I feel like when he was pushing that wheel, bored thinking about life. A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret, I was bored of B?

Monday, June 14, 2021

Gospel 348 ~A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret~

Hundred And Ninety-Second Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and already I’m thinking I’m okay with it. I’ll make more tomorrow…

When I get up at 6:30 in the morning, instead of 4:00, the day is already ruined. When I have to get up for the Day Job, I’ll still be hating that week I wasted doing nothing at all. As always, Madam J, this is not Depression but instead shame. This is not okay ever. I should at least be saving money because what was it I said yesterday about spending $150 on Maitland Ward’s Yabbos. Um, that’s $140 now as I spent $10 on “Rachel McGuire’s.” Oh, all I’ve got thus far, can I say I’m so thankful with any one of them, hmm? Hell, would me getting that tattoo for Braxton be something that will make me feel better, Madam? I don’t know.

Also, yesterday I talked about Dakota Skye’s passing but did I look up some of her work? As the song goes, I won’t go getting “Tired Of You.” The fact that I’m still talking about this proves it. Yet I didn’t do any searching other than for a good picture. I do that for B. However, Madam, these past few weeks have been all about the things I do because B III isn’t around. I wrote of renewed vows and ended up breaking it in the same day, and for what? Do I regret going all out for “Stuff And Thangs?” In a way, yes, but I’m not bored yet… I’ve been living on background noise, but something woke me. Make Way For The King

Only it was the young prince who died first. Braxton would expect more from me than sitting here wondering why I’m not dead yet. If I am only going to sit around waiting for the end. I should at least get the vaccine. Definitely want to prolong what’s become Hell. I was never lonely or, let’s say, overcome with ennui when I was with B III. I’ll never get over being here reading a good book and him by my side. I wasn’t bored with life Madam Justice, I was angry at it, but I said Another Day to keep down the boiling blood. I couldn’t, and I became indifferent to the one that loved me the most, Braxton. And the moment that happened, Madam… A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret

134 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will