Tag: Hate

Saga 021 ~What I’ll B Reading~

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If I’m asking for input from my kid about writing, I should look to him for other things. He wasn’t much of a reader but a great foot warmer and throw pillow. I told him, as the song goes, I’m Gonna Be Somebody. Yeah, like that’s What I’ll Be Reading

Friday, July 22, 2022

Saga 021 ~What I’ll B Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford some classic books. As for right this second, money for books?

Ha-Ha! Yet one more case of laughing to keep from crying. But of course, I will crack open a new book this week. Lady Sophia, Anything beats the one I’m writing. Ok, so that’s harsh, considering Braxton is the co-author. And I have been sobbing all this week. Writing, oh what a shame. Only a lot less than the Humiliations Galore, awaiting me at the Day Job. I tell myself I’ll do anything to avoid another decade in that place. Well then, why am I talking to you at nine A.M. when I was awake at four in the morning. What got it up, Sophia. Inevitably it’s a woman. Yet it’s not in the way you think. When I’m not reading, I’m watching Twitter, sigh.

“Emmanuel, Don’t Do It!” I’m sure you’ve heard, seen, and read those words all over. Would you like to know how funny Taylor and her emu are? Or should I talk about my jealousy? I’m glad I don’t often come back to reread my work. Oh, and to edit. God! No wonder I don’t have anything out yet, and I’m even struggling to write anything. So why do I write at all? In a minute, I’m going to sound like Cherry. Thoughts that I don’t need… anything about Yabbos because I’m starting over again. Fapping, day one. And like I said, I’m getting a new book today after the last one on addiction. Well, it was kind of. I could start reading a new genre.

But you know I want to read more on pet loss. Reading that B III is gone every day still doesn’t make sense to me. How about putting his cremation certificate in a frame. Along with all the bills and the receipts from that weekend? One frame’s on the bookshelf. However, Braxton’s pictures and my work schedule stay on the phone. Of course, that reminds me of one more thing I don’t want to read. A bill to get it fixed or them saying that they can’t. I can’t write, but I’m going to anyway, even if I drown in my tears. With the fact my writing is terrible. And sweating, trying not to look at tatas. I’m sure failure is What I’ll B Reading.

537 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 014 ~Book Better B Better~

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

Friday, July 15, 2022

Saga 014 ~Book Better B Better~

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

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

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

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

530 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

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

Friday, July 8, 2022

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

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

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

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

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

523 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

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

Friday, July 1, 2022

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

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

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

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

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

Gospel 365 ~A Year B Longing~

516 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 358 ~BEING Sick Of Love~

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

Friday, June 24, 2022

Chronicle 358 ~BEING Sick Of Love~

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

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

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

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

Gospel 358 ~Okay, B Father’s Day~

509 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 263 ~No, Love Can’t Tell Time~

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When did I fall in love with B? A “man” plopped him in my sister’s arms? When I saw him on the floor trying to know his own legs? I told him to get in the car? When he defended the gate protecting me. Ayeka Anime was quicker. No, Love Can’t Tell Time

Monday, March 21, 2022

Chronicle 263 ~No, Love Can’t Tell Time~

Two-Hundred and Thirty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. So do I love myself? We’ll get to that. I had many different ideas for this rule.

I doubt I’ll love anything or anyone more than my Braxton in a week. That’s right, Madam, I’m time traveling once again. At the moment, it’s Sunday, March 13, 2022. Another day that Braxton isn’t here to see. 414 to be precise. Can I count the days I love Braxton? Madam, I still am, but of course, I meant to say when he was living. Hell, I’m about ready to sing out “He Lives In You.” My son is alive as I live. And I will endure and survive, ha. You know how I have spoken of “Dangerous Words.” I read in Heart Dog: Surviving the Loss of Your Canine Soul Mate about thoughts of suicide. The Grim Reaper avoids me. “It’s Not My Time.”

But it’s always time to look up a good song? Hell, who am I kidding? There’s always time for another porn. How do you think I could stay up this morning to conversate with you? Again I go back to what I was talking about to the Man in the Mirror. I can barely keep my eyes off the clock when I go to the Day Job, and time moves so slowly. As much as I know that hate gets a bad rap, it moves as slow as anything. Oh yeah, the war, right? Or hate can’t tell time, too hmm. But I know I can’t stand to look at myself, to be honest. Let’s not talk about indifference. Braxton lived for five more days.

My love for my B was not long enough. My hate of so much seems to be eternal. Day Job! I wouldn’t say I love porn, but I know time flies by. I can look at a pair of Yabbos forever and a day. Trying to talk a friend out of her clothes… How much time have you got? I’m speeding up because the faster I finish speaking, what will I be doing, more porn? Only I’d give it up if I could have my son back. Reading Roxanne Hawn’s book, she talks about trading one memory for another. I create an album and put Braxton’s pillow away finally; stuff like that. But take a good look around. Good Grief! No, Love Can’t Tell Time.

Gospel 263 ~To Be Mean Time-Travel~

414 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 060 ~Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations~

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This should be a longer, like B’s life. At least I’ll say it. I don’t ask for the young to die so I can make some sort of statement. To think there was a time in my life I wanted to be the Secretary of Defense. Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations.

Monday, August 30, 2021

Chronicle 060 ~Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations~

Two-Hundred And Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I wish I had done it sooner. Tomorrow would be good.

Tomorrow as today is Thursday, August 26, 2021. More Time Travel. Now would be a decent time to bring up Rule Number Two, “You Are Not A Caveman.” Only today’s rule is so damn usual in a world of kids dying so old white men can allow plagues, own guns. Hell, I want to be a daddy someday; I was to Braxton. The odds of B III outliving me? All I know is he should have lived longer. That is my failure and my disgrace. Thus my shame. I don’t bury children lightly, not like the men and women I see every day on TV. I don’t want to get all political, Madam; I want to be real, but manhood’s purpose is family. That’s a man to me. Be that.

I’m a man, as Nicolas D. Wolfwood put it. With the loss of my child, yeah, I said it. Braxton, “He’s My Son.” With his death, I’m not like… Do you remember Hurricane Katrina? Black people lost their homes, and then they were made out to be refugees? Politics Madam. Anyway, I was never meant to make it this far. I’m about to be thirty-seven and with what I’ve done. Years of suicide attempts, not now. The lot of them I tried to hurt my father. It’s not like he would have cared, but maybe Madam maybe, shock, humiliation, failure. There was no shame when Braxton left me, for he fought with everything he had. He wanted to live. I didn’t, like father like son.

My father lives with his shame of a son, and that’s the thing, ain’t it? I live. I would have gladly died instead of my son. I was always worried about leaving B III alone. I talked to B III today (again Thursday), and I had an epiphany about why I’m still eating. Because no one will ever say he died because of his dog. How hard is it for anyone to understand this from Denzel Washington in John Q

“I AM NOT GOING TO BURY MY SON! MY SON IS GOING TO BURY ME!”

People, no, politicians have no shame. The young and the old don’t die for your power. For 211 Days, I would die for love. Others? Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations

An old man dies. A little dog lives. A fair trade. I love you, Braxton

211 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 053 ~Lift, Step, Repeat, Falling’s Harder~

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Sum up my job, pick it up, put it down. Boxes, tools, my feet, but B wouldn’t complain if I brought food. Eat first, then let him run around the backyard. I’m cleaning up as if he’ll step off the Rainbow Bridge. “Lift, Step, Repeat, Falling’s Harder”

Monday, August 23, 2021

Chronicle 053 ~Lift, Step, Repeat, Falling’s Harder~

Two-Hundred And Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I always have a soft place to land. I swear Braxton quested for comfy spots.

It didn’t take me 204 days to realize he was the cuddliest thing ever. Being as exhausted as I am, I’m always grateful for my head to hit the pillow. Braxton’s fur is long gone. Madam, at this moment (Sunday, August 22, 2021, Time-Travel), I’m in B III’s favorite hoody. His pillow is beneath my feet. Yet I’m cold AF. AC, stupidity, my B’s love? Don’t you think I should look up how to work the thermostat for once? That’s something Dads do, isn’t it? Talk about a lift. For all my failures, I once could say I’m B’s Daddy. Braxton can no longer lift my spirits, and whenever I raise my foot, I’m heading off in the wrong direction. It’s a decision, I know.

When my foot comes down, I wish I was in the ground. Didn’t I say today (again Sunday) that I must be careful with my words. Like wishing I could fly as Braxton does? How many steps must he have taken in his life? I’m 36, 37, but Braxton had four paws for fifteen+ years. The thing is, he appreciated every one of those steps while I hate mine. You ask me what the last step I wanted to take was. Not as profound as what I was thinking because of the truth. Taking Braxton to die, of course. The Hardest steps of my life. After those would be the ones, well, who knows how long it took me to walk after my “Emergence Day.”

Only I keep going, don’t I? I can’t tell you the last step I took that I was happy about. Carolina Bound would be disappointed because, in July, we all went to lunch. My friends. Braxton would be proud that Saturday I went and bought new pruning shears… What’s My Age Again? I’m trying to take care of the backyard. Braxton, come play again, please? I’ve even written it into my budget now to go and pick up lunch. McDonald’s will be pleased with $10. Taco Bell has fries. I need plenty after the Day Job shitshow; I know it. What else do I know? I don’t want to fall on my face; for scams and not in love again. Lift, Step, Repeat, Falling’s Harder

204 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 046 ~Decide To Accept Yourself Unconditionally~

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I don’t look at the “Man in the Mirror.” I would have to ask what I have become, and there is no answer for that. Does it matter as I would always say I could do better? B would think good enough. Decide To Accept Yourself Unconditionally.

Monday, August 16, 2021

Chronicle 046 ~Decide To Accept Yourself Unconditionally~

Two-Hundred And First Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would have no trouble accepting that as a Republican asshole.

To lie, cheat, steal, and kill. Not to get all political this early in the morning cough 7:20 AM. I would sell out for the right price. Speaking to M Anime, I told her that we all have a price tag. It’s called a paycheck. For the record, mine is nowhere near $15.00 an hour. Madam, I take it right, don’t I? I’m not the first to clock in or the last to leave, contrary to my playlist. Hell, those early days of Braxton’s death, I wanted to be anywhere else. Working the Day Job was acceptable. Only I say it every Sunday, the roughest thing with my Six Impossible Things. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am. My Braxton wasn’t delusional.

Delusional, dumb, or dead. 197 days and counting as I refuse to accept the fact that Braxton’s gone. Even if I’m starting to talk to myself again because I can’t even pretend to speak to B III anymore. Every day is a struggle to remain that abstinent, asexual, agamist asshole. The things you learn when you’re looking for the word celibate. Anyway, I must accept what people think of me, so I spend all the time I can, hiding in the house, an asylum. Last night I had a nightmare about how I’ve let the backyard become overgrown for sure. Then it started raining, so it’s not like I can do anything about it now. Who am I kidding, right? I’ve had four days off.

There’s a difference between acknowledgment and acceptance. Notice that the rule says accept and not love. M Anime and Carolina Bound would say they love me. I’m 36, about to be 37, come Emergence Day, my first in 15+ years without Braxton. I’m a failure. Madam, what kind of man relies on his Olds the way that I do. If I didn’t have them, hmm? I acknowledge my failings in all my dealings and being a father, but I have yet to accept it never. If for any other reason, that I don’t know who the fuck I am (pardon my language). I hate that saying you have to love yourself before you can love anyone else. Braxton and I had unconditional love but now. Decide To Accept Yourself Unconditionally

197 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 039 ~I Love You Has Flavors~

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And they call it puppy love, but Braxton was no puppy at fifteen, yet he’ll always be my baby. As far as other babes or whatever movie I happen to be watching… The Tomorrow War. How about the love of money? I Love You Has Flavors

Monday, August 9, 2021

Chronicle 039 ~I Love You Has Flavors~

Two-Hundredth Rule Madam Justice

I AM a Billionaire right now, but as The Beatles put it, “money can’t buy me love.” Only I know plenty of websites that disagree.

It’s been 190 days, and I don’t even want to think about love. I love that little doggie in the window. Which doggie, what window, you may ask. I answer, where have you been. Nobody loves me enough to read this, and no, I’m not complaining but stating the obvious. How I wish love could be so frivolous as to allow me to keep loving The Tomorrow War. It’s my Flavor of the Week, as it were. I can’t even watch it anymore, Amazon Prime. Finances have been a pain in my ass as I did them this Sunday afternoon. You know what that means. This week is going to be um eww and my usual blah, Olympics, the WWE. Books have been good though

My love of reading is nothing in comparison to that of B being here. Now I wouldn’t read my A.J. Markam title to him, but Chris Dietzel has been speaking to me. What do these authors have in common? Nothing? But my rage at myself and my desolation as well. Madam, it wasn’t supposed to be this way. Braxton and I were aiming to be the next Dennis Hof and Domino. Of course, that type of lifestyle wasn’t about love. I did want to give him a mom and siblings. How dare I dream of such love without Braxton, sigh. Braxton loved a daddy he would never see in this life. But somebody said that love can’t tell time, hmm.

Nine weeks, nine months, until his bucket finally runs out of treats. What about those hotdogs I never eat or all that cheese? How about forgetting to fill Braxton’s water? Madam, if it ain’t the time, then it’s the expense. Hell, I had a woman offering me another Chihuahua, but I couldn’t do it. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I looked at prices. Astronomical. For me anyway, and I am not a billionaire yet? Maybe when I fill in the application form at some of these places. My words murder my heart, ha. Torture, why M Anime likes me? It’s strange to think there is so much love in the world, but I’d instead be walking Braxton singing It’s Hard Out Here For A Pimp. Life’s harder when I Love You Has Flavors.
190 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will