Chronicle 138 ~May Love B Unconditional~

Do kids still watch Pinky and the Brain? I want to know what my own children will be into. With B III, it was the same thing every day, fries. I wouldn’t mind spending my nights trying to take over the world, but I mourn it. May Love B Unconditional.

Tuesday, November 16, 2021

Chronicle 138 ~May Love B Unconditional~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I didn’t love what I was doing, I’d never leave the house again Love.

What do I mean? Crying? Where are we now, 289 Days in? I was outside today, telling myself that B would be mad at me for dropping all those fries. It wouldn’t matter to him. He wouldn’t care if I didn’t get my lazy ass out of bed for his meds. One more reason Braxton’s dead though it was his kidneys and not his heart. Hell, Braxton loves my trying. Doing my best, as winners go home and fuck the prom queen. Tell me, Baby Girl were you the prom queen. I didn’t go to my prom, but I didn’t save my son Braxton either. Today my point is that it didn’t matter to him… Again I tell myself his love was unconditional. Plus fries

Now our kids would have liked me bringing a puppy home. I can honest to God tell you that I wasn’t thinking anything about them on what, Oct 30th. How I track my failures, sigh. Any way they want me to stop somewhere and again look at Braxton. He’s not even in the car. I take that back. He’s always with me, but I stop every day picking up some lunch. Yeah, I’ve said before that he would skip walks if he had fries when he was here. Do I want to quiet our own kids? The silence was unbearable, then endured. Now it’s what I deserve. That being the deafness of Braxton no longer being here. Yet do I want to talk about it?

Only mourning this long? Every day I think you’re upset that I can’t overcome this. In truth, I don’t want to. I’ve done, do, will continue several “unspeakable” acts. Baby Doll, it’s this, though. The suffering of the loss of B III gets my friends to give up ok. I talk to Braxton’s Aunt once a week. Saturdays when I visit Petsmart. The doggies. Remember M Anime? She says God bless Braxton’s little soul, but what else is there? Cherry has her own losses and everything else in her life. Braxton has my sobbing. However, thinking I can’t talk to my own wife? Hell, I can’t speak to Braxton either with what I tried to do on Nov 13th. Another betrayal? May Love B Unconditional

289 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 133 ~So Who You B~

Yeah, sometimes I’m too tired. Others I’m asking for help in the strangest of ways. If “This Dog’s Afterlife” is anything more than wishful thinking, then dogs learn how to read. So I keep writing to my lost boy. Or I should ask, “So Who You B.”

Thursday, November 11, 2021

Chronicle 133 ~So Who You B~

284 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If “This Dog’s Afterlife” is any indication, then I’m sure it’s freaking awesome. I hope

Santa, is that who I should be talking to? I was thinking more Morgan Freeman, aka Red. “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” well-inching closer Braxton. Awesome… Satan doesn’t think so, or that’s what I was thinking to myself when I held Chase the Saturday before last. I should stop thinking about that fur baby. Christmas present now? Soldier, steady on. But while I got soul, I’m not a soldier as the song goes, and yes, I know what day it is. It was yesterday, though, that was so exhausting. I’m all discombobulated. Like on any day since you’ve been gone, I’m trying to find myself again. 284 Days isn’t going to cut it. I’m only hoping that I can be as productive.

Writing? Is that what I’m doing. I’m a writer. I still remember you thought I was a doorman with your demands. At least you got me out of bed, B. Where am I right now? Wealth isn’t raining over me, but I did get paid today. If you were here, I wouldn’t ever let things get this bad. B, I’m looking at grilled cheese sandwiches, and as for your food? Women never came before you. Though I thought for sure, you would have gone home with your aunt. How about the way you led her to the bedroom? Southern Braxton… Have you changed at all? As I said before, with the book, I’m reading. If it’s one thing I know, it’s that you could fly.

Sinning prevents me from doing as such. Yes, your Daddy is still on his wanting to be a monk trip. At least I did do some pretty decent work, though… after. You had gone out. Survivor, or the Soul Survivor, that’s what I am now, and I don’t like it. But I better get used to it because come this Saturday I will still be alone. Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge? Savior, when I don’t look a thing like Jesus. Sorry about all the musical references. As I said, I’ve been working. But how could I see you again? Had I known how to save a life? That was the last song, promise. But my B with everything you have going on. So Who You B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 131 ~Can’t We B Friends~

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

Tuesday, November 9, 2021

Chronicle 131 ~Can’t We B Friends~

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

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

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

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

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

282 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 126 ~Just Be It Braxton~

Nothing against Nike other than the expense. Too busy with my belly, some English boobs, books, and of course B III. No, I can’t Just Do It. Although if it meant my Day Job for the rest of my life? Why I don’t fear Hell but Happy Just Be It, Braxton.

Thursday, November 4, 2021

Chronicle 126 ~Just Be It Braxton~

277 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Or should I be asking, were you a good boy? It’s Heaven, Rainbow Bridge, whatever.

But then again, you were here… It’s the end of the spooky season, I know. And I did eat quite a few chocolate-covered almonds. My form of an exorcism, hmm B. But driving you away? I did that before, but let’s not talk about January 31st but here on Day 277. Hell, I didn’t get anything done. 3 things woke me up this morning, your picture and hoping for Cherry’s boobs. I’d swear you were haunting me if I didn’t notice the power had gone out. If only for a second. I found your PetSmart bandannas on the floor, but they could have slipped off, B. I’m looking for signs, Braxton. Last Saturday in particular. I’m a fucking traitor B III. Pardon my language, B.

What kind of monster am I? Well, I killed you, and people want me to stop saying that. Deaf ears, dead man. I wish I could return to being the zombie-like man I was afterward, B. Yesterday I was intent on becoming a ghost. All the white ceiling dust or my white shadow following behind me. I was in the air on all those ladders, and if I fell, Braxton. It wasn’t high enough to kill me, but sticker shock at the hospital. Which brings me to why I ain’t writing? I didn’t want to be a murderer, and I can’t stand liars. My NaNo novel? Even in that, Win William Bridgman wants to sleep. I didn’t make the girl a corpse but a robot.

Would you have liked to be a robot, like out of Alita: Battle Angel? I never showed you off when you were alive and since you’ve been gone. Every day now B III without fail. Today if I died and went straight to Hell because I trust I’m not going anywhere else. Would you come looking? You’d go What Dreams May Come. Don’t Braxton ever. Braxton, knowing how you listened to me before. Sad the first time you ever obeyed some orders, it took three needles. I’ll never be that man. Holding that fur-baby Saturday. Braxton, he got lucky I didn’t choose to bring him to your home. Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy. Regardless of Yabbos, happy I can’t Just Be It, Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 119 ~Rereading A’s And B’s~

Lies, I told my son. Lies, I tell myself, I’m glad I wrote the story out. At the rate I’m going, a story that will never be published. But these letters to my little boy even when he was 15, which is damn near 70 in “dog years?” Rereading A’s And B’s

Thursday, October 28, 2021

Chronicle 119 ~Rereading A’s And B’s~

270 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? The fact that we’re talking on a Sunday lets you know all about my day.

It’s another reason I’d shush you as Soon As I Get Home from work. You know why you never knew your stepmom. Who wants to hear about Humiliations Galore always? Braxton, even more so, it hurts when I lie at the Day Job. I’ve said it before that going to my old words of “another day,” my indifference. No B, “son, what you don’t understand.”And here come the waterworks with “Don’t Look Down.” Only I didn’t leave you. The rest of the song still applies. Also, I don’t want to retell the story of how you died, B III. Hell, I relive that tale every time I shut my eyes. It’s the reason I cry every day. I’m burning myself alive. Remember the movie Spontaneous?

No, that’s a film I watched long after you passed. The stories I tell every night so I can sleep but now I’m telling old stories. In my most hated words list, I should add Acceptance. I still haven’t, you know. 270 Days and Routine, your water bowl remains full, and I haven’t switched out your bathroom pad. It’s clean. My biggest worry is your treats. Braxton, I only want to make it through one year. Aunt Carolina Bound’s not Happy. Neither am I, but that’s the standard. It’s getting around NaNoWriMo season, and now I do have a writing idea. The first has nothing to do with you, really. Well, more like Bastian Barks Bennett. This is a conversation for Sophia, but you’re here.

I’m sitting at the dining room table, imagining you’ll get off your pillow and direct me to the door. Anyway, my first idea. You know how I thought I’d finished my Cherry trilogy. Killed her the first one, killed you in the last one. I’m starting to think VR and robots. Now my second idea, and Braxton, you have to forgive me for this. I talk about you replacing Cerberus in Hell. What kind of Daddy imagines his son going to Hell? So I’m thinking about Drive Angry, how Milton described it. Braxton, watching my fuck-ups. Would you come back and save me, or would you let me have your wrath? I’d understand both. Hope I’m writing before you see this. Rereading A’s And B’s

“You know the pain and suffering ain’t the worse part, right? That’s what they tell ya, what they want you to believe. But it’s all a big fuckin lie. Nosir, worst part’s the goddamn video feed.”

“It ain’t about the fire and brimstone. Ain’t about your suffering. It’s about the suffering of them you love. Cuz you see it. You see it all. In full goddamn detail. And there ain’t nothin you can do about it.” ― Drive Angry (2011)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 112 ~When Braxton Fries Away~

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

Thursday, October 21, 2021

Chronicle 112 ~When Braxton Fries Away~

263 Days Without B III

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

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

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

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 105 ~Restaurants With A B-Plus~

A woman at the Day Job says to eat more. Has she seen what I make? I have no qualms about my body, and if B were here, I would make sure to get a side of fries. To be honest, how does M Anime eat at all? What is B eating? “Restaurants With A B-Plus.”

Thursday, October 14, 2021

Chronicle 105 ~Restaurants With A B-Plus~

256 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Are you checking up on me any? I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t, Braxton.

I remember I would have fleeting thoughts before you were gone, how this would be. Once I told your Aunt that I would listen to “See You Again” when I was mad at you. I don’t recall the last time I heard it. There was a time I would play it and others every day. It beats my ranting, raving, and rambling, wouldn’t you agree? I tried not to when you were sleeping. Which begs the question, Braxton, why are we talking this morning? Because your Daddy didn’t have any fries to stick in his mouth. The Day Job called. Braxton, how could I say no to you and yes to those PEOPLE? At the end of the day, you had to eat, nothing more.

Food has been the name of the game all this week. If you need another reason to be pissed at me, besides everything else. Yeah, I haven’t been bringing food back, or it was chocolate. Yesterday, I started to share something with Inspector Echo, but I didn’t know how to word it. I still don’t, but here it is. Truth, I haven’t been eating the way I should this past week. It’s not my intention to starve myself like I did years back. Hell, the only reason I’m still breathing, I’m Alive, is because of you and the Day Job. I love you and hate them, Funny how that works. If I survive today, then I keep my promise to you. If not, we’re together.

It’s what we in the business call a win-win. Thank you, Emily, “Just SUMM Reactions.” I’ve been subsisting off of movie reactions and eating like the contestants of Squid Game. How I wish you were here after Episode 8. I can’t justify buying a steak if I can’t share it with you. Emergence Day was an exception, of course. That was one more promise kept. Like wanting to help M Anime? Braxton, I know you love your Aunt Carolina Bound. She’s a lot less picky when it comes to food. M Anime and I would starve each other, you know. If anything, that would mean more for you. But you are your father’s son, Braxton. I made around 220 last week… Restaurants With A B-Plus

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 098 ~B STUPID THEY Say~

Hey STUPID, Slave, Sucker, so a day at work when I rather stay home with my dog, my best friend, my son but oh wait. When he was dying, I was working; the day after, I sat with him as he crossed the Rainbow Bridge; I worked. “B STUPID THEY Say,” yep.

Thursday, October 7, 2021

Chronicle 098 ~B STUPID THEY Say~

249 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Well, let me apologize for “that word.” How I hate “Hey STUPID, I Love You.”

But to quote another song, “I Feel Stupid.” Considering the 28th of January, when I didn’t know you were dying… I know I’m sorry, Baby B, it’s been a long day. Only am I talking about today or Monday? Why am I talking to you so early? By this time, I’d be in no mood. Oh, I’m STUPID THEY’D say for hating the Day Job denying a slave’s existence, mine. I’m STUPID for feeling bad about it like I failed in life. I let you down, B, all for them. There will never come some moment I won’t be reminded that this hatred killed you. Fuck I will never learn my lesson. This morning I came back and what Braxton; ate, slept, vented, ranted, whatever.

Because I can’t be STUPID, Braxton. At least I try not to be but of course, if you ask someone. One more thing I miss about having you here B III. There was no one to ask, and you already knew. I bet you’re glad I can’t lock you behind a gate someplace, hmm? Yeah, when your daddy is doing something STUPID like this morning. Hell, I would take that over what happened today, and I do mean Thur. It’s no use speculating. Humiliations Galore but at least this week was “successful.” Keeping the Day Job not killing anyone. Braxton, I’m not trying to be funny. In 2017 I wrote, “Lesson 050 A Comedian Died Today.” I killed you, B, my audience, 249 Days Ago.

The one love in my life who thought I could do better. I’m full of apologies, aren’t I B III? Oh, I say, you’re dead, I killed you, I know-how. But um, I’m a dumb criminal, yeah, B III. So why care what THEY say? That will always and forever make me louder, Braxton. Constantly I’m repeating reasons to love you and miss you. Braxton, you’re my quiet friend? Is that insanity? Am I being ironic? Now I know I’m not imagining things. I’ve talked about how the silence is killing me but only not fast enough. Why I’m still talking to you when I should be reading. A boy with an imaginary friend, believing in ghosts, zombies, succubi, me… Braxton, B STUPID THEY Say

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Lesson 357 ~And Other Dangerous Weapons~

Fear is the monster, and the weapons I have aren’t doing anything to kill it, do I even want to anymore, I’m tired but everything is keeping me on my back or my ass, but at least I’m writing, and words are weapons. “And Other Dangerous Weapons.”

Saturday, June 23, 2018

Lesson 357 ~And Other Dangerous Weapons~

Hey Lady Lu,
Can You Love Me Again, I suppose some people will answer yes even if they don’t mean it when I’m in the ground, but today I’m Alive; so why is it when I saw 357 I immediately thought about a gun, I’m an American, I’m suicidal, what keeps me on my back?

If anything my day job, I didn’t start sleeping on my back until I became terrified that I would lose my employment, I’ve only ever been late once, and I was wide awake at the time, though generally like Frankenstein’s monster I rise because the job is killing me. How many times do I say I love my dog like pancakes, but like any parent sometimes he becomes my excuse not to do something or to do everything, but love can be a lot of things including shameful. It’s almost as if one should be ashamed of being depressed, for having the blessings that someone like me has, and I am blessed Lady Luna I see that; a bed, a couch, a chair, a dog, so many soft places and some people only see such luxury in a coffin, and that’s if they’re lucky enough.

Speaking of luck the worst weapon that I use against myself is LUST; if I go to Hell, more like when; I can only hope I get a circle two offense, and the sad thing is I can’t even name everything I’ve looked up this past week or even the past hour. I’m so far from paradise nowadays, but I want something higher; I keep telling myself that but as I was saying to “Cherry” yesterday that something greater will probably come with brunette hair.

You would think I wouldn’t look at the ground so much but more at my wooden dining room table or something else that’s indeed rockhard, writing, woody, the weather though I like the rain somewhat which matches my mood, slow and dark. The clock is another source of motivation and irritation over how much time I waste doing nothing it’s a constant struggle it wears me out. Besides lust, SLEEP should be considered one of my seven deadly sins; I have to give up sleep, somebody said that’s when the real work begins when you’re tired and hungry, not that I’m helping myself when it comes to food either sadly.

So day job, fatherhood, depression, lust, writing, time, and sleep, see it doesn’t take a 357 to kill yourself not when there are so many choices And Other Dangerous Weapons.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 350 ~A Black Magic Worry~

Magic, Day Job, Al Bundy, Fear, Words, Humanity, Desperation, Friendship, Vices, Faith, Therapy, Lesson, Journal, Lady Lu, Will Bradford Jr.

Saturday, June 16, 2018

Lesson 350 ~A Black Magic Worry~

Hey Lady Lu,
Can You Love Me Again, if this was Hell and you were a goddess I would say no… do you see what happens when you get the answers you seek, and though this isn’t Hell per se and I like to think of you as only a girl, you’re getting pretty close. Two more worries but maybe that’s the wrong word, the right one as always is Fear and Lady Luna I am afraid of what’s next.

With everything that has happened this week the fact that I have lost my faith in magic should “worry” me more or at least I thought I had until last night, I made not have faith in God but how often have I found a friend in Satan. I said to “Okay” if I could know anything it would be the time of my death and even now that seems considerably better than what I do know; “Cherry” did a Tarot Reading and said that a change was coming in my job. A horrible shift though she didn’t know all that and I already feel stupid for how I’m taking this, but I am idiotic regardless, come not this week but the next, I’m Al Bundy, I’m Alone With Doggie.

Two full days of working in the Shoe Department, now my anxiety nearly got the best of me and like when Negan was hiding from the dead I almost “rubbed one out” so I could calm down. Sex or masturbation always helps me sleep, mindless violence revs me up, drugs can keep me grounded, and pain; I’m no cutter, but actual kicking and punching inanimate objects brings me focus. There’s also the idea of burying this great fear under an avalanche of worry, all the work that I need to do, losing another friend on Facebook, I don’t think “Psychopath’s Prey” is helping with that and what about that photo of “Eileen Kelly” almost like finding “Little Lupe” once again.

If I had never got that Tarot Reading what would I think today, would I blame my stupidity in making my schedule, perhaps I have some enemy I don’t know about, you know I have to protect my “Energy” or is it my time for this shit? Talk about motivation, because other than my dog sadly I think I’ve had a somewhat decent week but today I have to “Hold On,” A Black Magic Worry.

I Will Have No Fear