Tag: Fear

Chronicle 123 ~Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends~

WillLeave a comment

There ain’t no rest for the wicked as the song goes. Not for them or me. Only the good die young. Where’s B III? He was my baby even at 15. Old dogwise. Hell, I did believe he would outlive me… I had my reasons. Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends

Monday, November 1, 2021

Chronicle 123 ~Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends~

Two-Hundred And Twelfth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the man I’m looking at is the world’s enemy. Somethings will never change, Madam J.

Of course, right now, I’m scraping by. The fact that we’re speaking on a Wednesday afternoon in October (Time Travel) lets you know that It WASN’T A Good Day. It’s one thing to not have any friends at the Day Job. I don’t want any but being lied to, Madam. I’m sure that the manager lied to me about my paycheck and my responsibilities. Who knows, I could be wrong, but everyone there believes I’m STUPID anyway. It’s a disease. Not only STUPIDITY but how I find enemies. It’s like a fucking Hydra. One head drops dead. And two more rise. To think of all the times I got mad at Braxton for barking at nothing. No, he saw everything.

Well, not me. B’s murderer, his killer, the fucking Grim Reaper. People are getting sick of me saying that. Hell, I don’t blame them. I reached out to a few friends today (Wednesday). Braxton’s aunt said hello. Another is pretty injured, and one said nothing. That leaves me with a few choice words for the man in the mirror, well, one. “Yuck.” Remembering my motivations. Someone spoke about your best friend/worst enemy staring at you in the mirror. Well, Braxton was my best friend. My worst enemy lives on. If I had the guts to leave my Day Job, they would go on. B III would have died faster. Yet here I am, Madam repeating the words of Rick Grimes. “We Are The Walking Dead. Lived to become the villain.

Like father like son, right? If my father and I agree on anything. It’s the fact that I should plan on not outliving him. He’s over half my age, of course. Fuck I’m thirty-seven. Every E-Day is a failure. Oh yeah, today starts NaNoWriMo and NoFap. The Good, Bad, Ugly. Only Braxton isn’t here to sit under the table, keeping me focused. Hands meet keyboard. You don’t see any girlfriend around here making me break into “Baby I Love You.” Madam, you’re an imaginary one out of six, and I should be writing about “Bridgman.” Oh, what? I’m not writing about B III again. I outlived him, and my enemies are slothful. I’m the worst of them all, dear friend. Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends

274 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 122 ~B Answered The Call~

WillLeave a comment

Today is for the monsters, but most of mine I’ll hear Monday during business hours. To think I hated my phone before because of the spammers, it’s real people, wanting to ruin my day, wanting me to adopt, to live up to my writing. B Answered The Call

Sunday, October 31, 2021

Chronicle 122 ~B Answered The Call~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means every phone call is an opportunity. Not for you, I’m afraid. Never for you fool.

At least the lady didn’t scoff at you yesterday. I swear if Chase’s life hadn’t been on the line… I would have walked out of there without another word. For Braxton, I put up with a lot of people’s shit. I wanted him to live. I hope that Chase lives, and he will. Correct answer. Like saying Good Morning, Happy Halloween. Hell, you didn’t speak to B III when you were feeling like this. It would take almost an hour and what time is it, 5:00 AM? I know you should be thanking me for my actions yesterday. I’ll thank you for surviving the week. One more reason I couldn’t bring that fur-baby here yesterday. Sounds like an excuse for not doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Dystopian Girls 2
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 008 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Is that why you’re so angry? Two out of six ain’t bad… well, it is, but anyway. Keep your hand off your “hose,” will you? That fire has to go somewhere. Evil prevails, like tonight. Only you won’t be answering the door. I hope you don’t have to answer the phone. And yes, I fucked up with that email yesterday. Remember, you’re no hero, dammit. NaNoWriMo is the only opportunity you should be concerning yourself with, and how will you use it? The hoes I know. Coming up with names like Nyx Amaya Griffin, SIGH. The call of your inner writer, or should I say monster. God knows you didn’t need to hear, best friend, daddy, or hero this morning. Any new, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading History Of Present Complaint
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 008 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Remember B. Always but I mean the fact that he would answer the call. I didn’t. Yesterday, how many times am I going to say it. And you’ll never see Chase again, you know that. To be fair, I can’t make the call either. I sat there for an hour, and I couldn’t face what I’d done. Well, I didn’t make a phone call for Street Tacos at B-Dubs. And to tell my Ma, ha? Now you’re living in fear because you’ll have to answer the call from your father. I talked to the animal rescue people. And there’s Braxton. His bark isn’t going away anytime soon. Because you are selfish, slothful, a sissy, um no but resisting Yabbos. Not Braxton, B Answered The Call

273 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

WillLeave a comment

I’m sure someone said something wise of grief and hunger, not that I found it… I’m not that smart. All I know is that when Braxton died, my Ma asked whether I was eating, and I picked up ribs. Are you hungry seems easy enough to ask? “To The B Eve’d”

Saturday, October 30, 2021

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be clever? Well, you saw that title. “Behave In The Cherry Patch?”

No, NaNoWriMo Eve is tomorrow, and so is Halloween. Let’s not forget Fear The Walking Dead and Walking Dead: World Beyond. The start of a new week and my list of eff ups aka Six Impossible Things. But um, God “rested” on the 7th day. Yep so did B III. But my story, didn’t I say I would be bringing characters back from the dead? My “loves?” Or am I digging myself into a tiny grave when it comes to writing? There will be some “plowing,” in my words. Don’t remind me, yesterday was all about Blue Balls, Lunalesca. I don’t know how I’m going to write with that kind of pain. Oh, right, the only bodily fluids leaving were tears over B III again.

Saturday was B’s last full day. He couldn’t do a damn thing but Test His Might. If God made woman from one of man’s ribs, man took another and gave it to the dog. Oh yeah, the dog was smart enough to bring it back. Ooh, that was not a gripe at women, Lady Luna. Hell, if anything, I’m not the man sitting on his ass drinking a beer and watching the game. I’m the boy lying in his bed waiting for his best friend to come back home. Braxton would be proud. I ignored him most of the week, but he was no fan of Sundays. That’s the truth. Once again, it’s Saturday, but I guess I’m getting an early start on my grief.

Braxton, boobs, and that “bad man” better known as Dad. One I’ll never see again, two I want to avoid, and three is calling Monday. But Sunday will always be the worst day for me. Some things are supposed to be said, smart things for sad times. Only every single day feels like a funeral, but I’m not sure whose. Yet I stay crying over one, my Little B. Lady Luna, is that why I don’t want to talk about today? I betrayed him when I watched him dying. I go and look at the other fur-babies like B III hasn’t been gone 272 Days. There’s no day or night, only life and death. Stories, Saturdays, my sucky life. Say What? To The B Eve’d

272 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 119 ~Rereading A’s And B’s~

WillLeave a comment

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 118 ~Dad Of A B~

WillLeave a comment

Didn’t I get promoted at some point? Thursday, I’ll know if I was a child that was lied to about Christmas morning. $12.00 an hour I should be ashamed, or that I’m paying Love Wolf how much? It was different when I was working for B III. “Dad Of A B”

Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Chronicle 118 ~Dad Of A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but none of that would bring life or, being specific, Braxton back. The same old regret

Braxton was/is a better man than me, and as I’ve said, what’s the best part of manhood? Fatherhood. Waking up at 37, mourning a son gone 269 Days, knowing you’ll never have another fur-baby or human. For my failures, Braxton would’ve been a good dad. Hell, he made a man out of me. I once thought that’s what women are for. Did I offend anyone? No more than myself with Humiliations Galore this week, but we’ll get to that. I should have let Braxton breed. I could have gotten a free puppy. Being a granddad? Braxton was terrified of girls, well, furry girls because he was so in love with Carolina Bound’s Yabbos. If you’re wondering where I’ve been this morning. Yeah, it’s Yabbos related.

But wait, didn’t I say I’m AHEM “determined to live a life of abstinence—no partying, no women, no nothing.” Thank you, Monique Moreau. Yet I’m still drooling over M Anime, Cherry, “LL,” a paid subscription to Love Wolf… Less ashamed of that than yesterday. Inspector, where are my “huge cojones, well other than OnlyFans, of course. So yesterday, the truck supervisor left for some emergency. This dude younger than me, who’s worked for fewer years than me, takes over the truck crew. And I let him. No fight, nothing. Inspector Echo, I want to run a brothel one day. I’m reading about some guy’s harem this week, “Dystopian Girls 2.” I call myself a Dominant, but I am no leader of men. The truth.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNgVFY-xZLc

When I was in the Navy for a “couple” of weeks, I couldn’t do a damn thing by myself. Even now, when something goes wrong, I have to go running to my “father” for help. Keeping Braxton alive, though, once we were out on our own. Well, the ending result. Braxton, my little B, B III, “my eldest son, heir to my throne, defender of my kingdom,” is gone. In a way, he’s lucky to be free of this place. That he does not have to watch, his father fall. Yup, that’s a bit from Troy (2004). Anyway, B does watch, and that’s my shame. It’s all that’s holding me together. Because people, seeing me. Seeing myself, I’m my son’s daddy. Dad Of A B.

269 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 117 ~Will B Decorating Soon~

WillLeave a comment

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 116 ~A Gods Weakness Is No~

WillLeave a comment

I’m nobody, and yet they say God will come for me. He cares enough, but I get sent to Hell for refusing to Kowtow if I say no. I take my own licks, and I’ve been there and done that, going on 267 Days. Who knew I was so strong… A Gods Weakness Is No.

Monday, October 25, 2021

Chronicle 116 ~A Gods Weakness Is No~

Two-Hundred And Eleventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should have everything I want. My grandma said that I had too much pride…

When I look in the mirror, I know that ain’t true at all. How about the fact that I’m sitting here in blankets on a Friday afternoon? I will be again Monday after working my crappy Day Job. And knowing all this, I will not fall to my knees and ask for God’s help now? Madam, as if this story needs retelling, I haven’t called on God since Braxton’s passing. Don’t I mean murder? The fact is I’m not asking after God for anything to do with me. It’s not pride, ok. Um, Madam, the things that impress me in this life. Yup, called Yabbos. To paraphrase a song AHEM, “I got ninety-nine wants but a God ain’t one,” ha.

M Anime wouldn’t want me saying that. I’ve been thinking about the things I shouldn’t speak. More like the stuff I shouldn’t do. Do you think the loss of my son was God’s Wrath? 267 days and I haven’t blamed him, her, it, whatever. It feels so damn good, J. Today thoughts turn to the fucking ASM. Whether he was blessed or cursed, he’s gone. So I say “whatever,” as much as I damn well please, and I’m sure I got fries back here too. Here’s hoping I’m also keeping my dick in my pants after today. I mentioned Yabbos. Madam, as pathetic as I am as a human being, I’m not calling on God. Hell, most days, I drift back and forth. Atheism, Agnosticism

Like in “The Road,” to some, Braxton was an angel; to me, he was/is a God. I told him no plenty, but from the first day, I saw him. Yes was my only answer. Now for the record, I did have somewhat of a “Religious Reawakening,” a “Second Renaissance.” Hellish!!! Now, of course, I mean high school. If God could have got me out of that one, I’d be his. What is it they say, God helps those who help themselves? Only I’m still sitting here, aren’t I? Again a soft dick, compliments of such and such’s Yabbos. I need to answer nature’s call. And all I want to do is sleep. Could God help me out? Nope, but Braxton… Such is my greatest sin. A Gods Weakness Is No

“I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave.” ― Jareth from Labyrinth (1986)

267 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 115 ~Aw Hell Angels, Behave~

WillLeave a comment

A boot stamping on a human face forever? I’m sure the Shoe Person was wearing sneakers, and the jury is still out when it comes to me being human. A worm, a wuss, worthless. So yeah, you have my work week, but I have an angel. Aw Hell Angels, Behave.

Sunday, October 24, 2021

Chronicle 115 ~Aw Hell Angels, Behave~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, while you still have never hailed a cab. You’ve never sung Hail to the Chief. Seeing Hell?

Like every other week, that would be a yes. In a way, it’s nice to rise from the Ninth Circle and your Treachery to be somewhat in the Fifth. As Drake says, “I got enemies, got a lot of enemies. Got a lot of people tryna drain me of my energy.” Right now, you’re alone. That’s what’s so fucked up about this. Fucking Day Job. You should watch your language; Braxton is listening, but we’ll get to that. The two things you’re more concerned about in the land of the living is one, “I got girls in real life tryna fuck up my day.” Flooring. Dammit, why can’t you let that go already? Well, I didn’t. Two is yourself, looking at these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Kama Sutra Sex Guide for Couples, Samantha Mandala
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

“It’s too cold outside, For angels to fly.” That’s why everyone is stepping on you this week, or they will be. The Shoe Manager is no fucking angel. Language! The supervisor, the manager, there is no one. The Bible says something about finding righteous people. Now let’s be clear, this isn’t your PRIDE speaking. Without a doubt, you’re going to… “You’re in Hell, this is Hell now, you’re in Hell.’ Yeah, paraphrasing Dot Allison’s “Colour Me.” That has been another earworm of mine, and I’m glad you found it. One less thing to worry about, congratulations. How long has your wrath relented? All good things. Nothing has been good, to be honest. You realize why Republicans adore forgetfulness, fury, and fucking Stupidity. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Dystopian Girls 2
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You should add having Braxton back or getting another fur-baby to the list. The only thing that got me through this week of humiliations galore is Routine. Braxton is dead. The pain to trump all other hurts, humiliations, and you’re hoping horniness. To be a monk again. It wasn’t trying to get into Heaven but instead your punishment, like sleep. I didn’t buy stairs for Braxton, and he learned how to fly. He’s flying now. When I didn’t want to walk, I brought food home, so B III wanted to eat. He’s dying; you’re sleeping. I don’t have any advice for you but to ask Braxton for courage instead of your condemnation. Want to know if God exists? For Braxton, Women, Aw Hell Angels, Behave.

If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face—for ever.
― George Orwell, 1984

266 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 114 ~No, Not The B’s~

WillLeave a comment

The bed’s not a mess, but then again, I might have to make it to see a difference. As if anything makes a difference when one political supports the Nazis. The years before, when I had a girl of the week, Anya, Panam, Jen. B’s still gone. No, Not The B’s

Saturday, October 23, 2021

Chronicle 114 ~No, Not The B’s~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I’d buy a safe place for animals not lucky like B. Blue Pills and Bullets.

The places my mind goes. Last night I didn’t dream about Braxton. But the dream I did have. Now Lu, like everything else in my life, it’s second-rate, second-best, and didn’t allow a second round. Let’s say I should call a physician as it lasted over four hours. Lady Lu, living in a would-be tyranny thanks to the Republican Party. That’s not to say I like the Democrats either. Um, M Anime is all for Anarchy but in a peaceful sort of way. Anyway, so my dream was of Wolfenstein, well, Anya Oliwa-Blazkowicz, to be specific. She wasn’t the only one; there was Panam Palmer from Cyberpunk 2077. And Jennifer Mallick, aka “Huck” TWD World Beyond. There were a few more. But leaving it there.

So as the song goes, AHEM, Lady Gaga “Sexxx Dreams.” This might explain why I didn’t get off on it. Despite how long I lounged around in bed. I still am at 7:20. It would have been something if I were only watching the performance, but I was “Begging,” Lunalesca. Did I mention my ears are being assaulted by everything? Okay, love the music, yup. Lunalesca, if you didn’t know, the Nazis that I’ve often read about are here, Republicans. Oh, there’s the Alec Baldwin shooting. It’s been on my mind. Shutting everything off. Ain’t that the dream? I wish I had thought about that yesterday. No, I save all my wishes for Braxton to come home. Or to go trust that chick from Facebook.

Hell, I wish I could enact a punishment that I know I deserve for B III. I’m a weak man. Always under the influence of a pair of breasts, boobs, books talking about them, hmm? Always at the mercy of bucks, bills, benjamins. Speaking of which, an errand for today. Always afraid of bullets, ballistics, busting a cap as the kids say nowadays? Staying away. Better an excursion to the bank than being with a weapon I shouldn’t touch, definitely. There’s the other weapon poking up, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, damn it. As I said, the dreams. If I dreamed of Braxton, I’d be bawling my eyes out, which will happen sometime today. Instead, my balls are useless. No, Not The B’s

265 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 112 ~When Braxton Fries Away~

WillLeave a comment

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