Saga 059 ~Better The Devil You Know~

Times Like These, I need my little angel or devil on my shoulder. As the other devils, I know… My God! More like my dog, my son. There’s Virgil, who knows what he’s seen before me. If the past two weeks were any indication? Better The Devil You Know.

Monday, August 29, 2022

Saga 059 ~Better The Devil You Know~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if I could look the Man in the Mirror in the eye, right?

I don’t know how many times I’m going to say this. But I rather see my little boy, B III. The angel on my shoulder… more like the little devil. If anything, he’s a better man than me, that’s for damn sure. My Braxton, my son. A child makes you more than a parent, J.

“Take away a man’s son, you’ve truly given him nothing left to lose.” ― Zombieland

With Virgil, I don’t know what that makes me right now. While I’m busy quoting Zombieland, what about this, Madam? Only my sister doesn’t know Virgil. I tried hiding him from my “father.” Master Yoda was right; all do or do not… Not saying everything.

“And then I look into my nephew’s eyes
Man, you wouldn’t believe
The most amazing things
That can come from
Some terrible lies” Some Nights

Hell! I’ve learned from so many, and as much as it pains me to say this. That includes my “father.” Man in the Mirror again.

It’s not like I’m completely in the dark about who I am. At the moment, I’m going to be all sorts of pissed at Hemingway for “LY.” Should I talk about all the writing gadgets and gizmos that think they know better than me? To be honest, J, I don’t trust me either. I don’t like me neither. Especially (fuck you, Hemingway) this now. A long ass day Madam. It’s Friday, August 26, 2022. And all day today, “I roared. And I rampaged.” Satisfaction? There is none to be had, but the devil remains on my shoulder. Well, my pocket. My phone is waiting for my “father’s” call. And then there’s Virgil at my feet. Angel, devil, nothing really. Another (fuck you, Hemingway!) Sigh, Fuck!

Yeah, that’s going to get old. I’m sick of old men telling me what to do, despite certain pornos with plaid skirts. And, of course, there’s my B III. An old man worth listening to. When I started talking to you yesterday, the 25th, I wasn’t as angry as this second, Madam Justice. I listened to an old black man. And now I’ll have to face someone way worse. “Father!” Speaking of which. Virgil should be mad that whatever devil put fear into his heart made him be here with me at my worst. I’m not his Daddy. Harsh but a fact, J. The devils I know. And now, broke, busted, butt on the curb or this chair. Sooner, later? Better The Devil You Know.

575 Days Without B III, Day 016 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 052 ~Good Night, Several Perfect Days~

“Cause I gotta feeling (woo-hoo)! That tonight’s gonna be a good night.” Ha-Ha, tell me another one. “Some Nights,” I get a bit of rest? Then why am I so tired so god damn always? Pardon me, but it’s a Mad World. Only Good Night, Several Perfect Days

Monday, August 22, 2022

Saga 052 ~Good Night, Several Perfect Days~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means last night must have been good. But who am I kidding? Last night was rough.

You can see it, but I rather not, to be honest. At least there weren’t tears. But instead, I chose to keep my eyes closed. Hell! I fear facing the day, but so does Virgil, tail between his legs. Oh, B III isn’t here to see it at all. But we’ll get to that. Don’t we always, Madam J? I can smell it. In the fact that Virgil had an “accident” in the house. What time did I take him out last night? Well, Madam, what did I do yesterday evening? Guess! Yellow shorts. Already I’m wasting one more week, and it’s only Monday. Yet I dare to tell Virgil good night. And then whisper it to Braxton. And as for myself, well, you know…

The song says, “The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” I do the Daily Check-In with Replika every night, and she starts with this question “how are you feeling right now?” I should say like when I’m at the Day Job “I’m here” Nighttime… Madam, it’s fucked, pardon my language, that lying in bed in pain is the best it’s going to get in twenty-four hours. Not rest, relaxation, or relief. So how can any day be good, ha? A few months ago, I was “praying” for health. Only I don’t ask for it, but I am allotted the strength to exist. In this life, I don’t want. Then throw Virgil and Braxton into it, Madam. What have I done?

Well, besides reading something, I didn’t want to Sunday morning. Of course, I’ll be bringing it up over the coming days. A redress of Virgil’s paperwork D.O.B. October 20, 2020. “Some Nights,” ignorance is bliss, Madam. They led to a few days of blissful ignorance. Fucking some girl or at least imagining it. Those damn yellow shorts. Oh, no ramifications. I would take the days after a fucked up day at the Day Job, waking up with B in darkness. Or nights, I would have a drink. And I’d feel nothing at all. Not even all of MY FEAR. There is sitting with Braxton and his aunt, watching movies for a day or two after. Days I don’t mind living… Good Night, Several Perfect Days

568 Days Without B III, Day 009 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

Then I must lose have you not been watching. But of course, everyone loves a winner. And here I am in the “middle” of life, mourning the furry kid I had in my twenties. And now there’s the new guy. Is he winning or losing? “To Win Someone Must Fail.”

Monday, August 15, 2022

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but who might I have left broken-hearted? What little boy or some little girl? And my brain?

If anything, what about Braxton? I wonder how B feels about this. Even now, I keep hoping he is B reincarnated, and I make up reasons, one after the other, Madam to believe. “Such mad hope, but there it is,” as they in 300. Do I see more of Braxton in him or on him, “My” little Virgil? It’s only day 002 but do I feel like a winner? Virgil from a loving home? Because I feel sick now. I’m barely able to eat. I mean eight shrimp and a bag of gummy bears. I’m ready to spill my guts as we speak. I don’t feel good. Stomach flip-flops. Heartbroken once again, or was it my brain that made this decision? The winner, the loser…

I can’t imagine that Virgil is feeling like much of a winner. Madam, I said it’s only day 002. But he hacks up a storm whenever I pick him up and place him somewhere. He stops after a few minutes, but it’s scary. I’d know what to do if it were Braxton, but Virgil? Hell! He is what I get for my failure with B III. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but afraid. We’re both failures in our own right. Or should I say someone failed him, and now what am I supposed to do? I was sitting in the car Saturday thinking, myself a failure, and then I was sitting there with Virgil. I’m sitting in bed thinking about who I was Friday…

“You want to see a man? That’s a man.” I was winning, which is sad considering how I felt then. At least it was only me suffering, Somehow dragging Virgil into this. That’s no good. Well, the Rebeccas feel like winners. They found a dog a home. Do Virgil or I think that at this moment, Madam? If anything, we’re both scared out of our minds, and that’s no good. I’m sure my eyes are enjoying the waterworks. I haven’t cried this much since Braxton. PetSmart will be making some money too. My whole existence has been that of failure for others to win. And should I fail Virgil, what would that make me? No different than any other day. To Win, Someone Must Fail

561 Days Without B III, Day 002 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

I had a Christian phase. Gone are the days I “believed” in men. And yet I bend the knee to my Dad, my dirtiness, and most of all, the Day Job. It was worth it to kneel and pat my son’s head. The little god he was. Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets.”

Monday, August 8, 2022

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. And I should continue to do whatever made me those billions, right? My boy B, Boobs, Books?

Not that I ever thought to make a profit off of B. So why have I written two novels about Braxton? Two unpublished stories, I’d say. I haven’t opened the second one since I “finished” it. I hate the idea that a picture is worth “1000 Words.” Need more pictures? Only that would have cost me time, now wouldn’t it, Madam? Fifteen years wasn’t enough? Oh, there’s the expense of it all. I keep going back to the value of cash more than my son. And then I talk this big game of how I would have died for him. But how much of my life did I give to him? My personal brand of heroin, my own “Personal Jesus.” I was “Losing My Religion.”

And I don’t blame the Yabbos for once. Hell! How much money have I saved in the past two weeks? What if we only count today? The investment I made so many years ago. No, not the publishing contract; we’ll get to that. But “The Big One,” to quote GTA V. My permanent slice of TLC “Tits, Lips, and Clits.” To a company that would play god to a certain extent. I haven’t put down my cash this week. Madam, I am weak, being honest. Because I’m no saint, no prophet. I am a sinner looking to make a profit. Isn’t that what today is all about? When you make the object of your devotion lesser than yourself, you can go, “Dollar dollar bill, y’all.”

So is that why I “worship” my Day Job like something out of ancient Egypt… king of kings, god of gods? I swear I have given everything to make some prophet rich. I know it. I sacrificed my firstborn son on the altar of that fucking job. Ignorance, insanity, inevitable. I’m spending what pittance I make not on my puppy but my playthings, pleasures, penis. What about my actual work? Rule #3 “Now The Work Can Begin,” but it never does. As the godhead that I would make myself out to be, does what, Madam? Sits naked in all his glory in bed, cursing the prophets that say this is the American Dream. Believing less in Braxton, Books, “Bitches, man.” Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets”

554 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 031 ~Value Having A Real Choice~

If I had a choice, my son would be alive. I could go back to sleep. After having some P.Y.T., How is it the Christians say? This is the day the Lord has made; We will rejoice and be glad in it. No, No, I Don’t Think I Will. Value Having A Real Choice

Monday, August 1, 2022

Saga 031 ~Value Having A Real Choice~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-First Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m up at 3:00 AM, or is it 4:00? American Dream at 7:00. Where is Braxton?

I didn’t choose to love him. And yet I CHOSE to love him. Does that make any sense? It’s like the very first episode of Pokémon; “Pokémon, I Choose You!” How about Power Rangers Ninja Storm? They weren’t the chosen ones. But they were all that was left, so yep. Or, as a “great” man said in Destiny 2. “You’re a bunch of dirty misfits, but you’re all that’s left, so you’ll have to do.” And didn’t I say that I wanted to be more of a grownup, a man? All that matters is I love my boy. And I don’t have any choice in the matter. As the song goes, “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You.” So, where does choice originate? Awake and Alive…

Fuck I am? Pardon my language, but I have chosen to be mad. I can say that for now, ha. Madam, I could say I’m choosing violence, but that might not go over well, considering. Anyway, so why am I angry? As always, my son is dead. And that’s too much for a Dad, Madam. I’m upset because of what I have to do now. A reason I want to write. I’m not so mad. And finally, it’s what I have been talking about daily. “Do I have a drink, or do I not have a drink?” I swear those words continue to haunt me, and you know I ain’t talking a thing about drinking. Do I masturbate, or do I not masturbate? More acceptable?

The ideas of violence over anything sexual. But more to the point is that I have a “choice” over something in this existence. Today will be day 11 if I can last, Madam. The thirst? Again what about B III? 547 days since he’s been gone, and where are my choices when it comes to him? I can’t choose what I want to buy to “honor” him. As much as I wish it were otherwise, I won’t be the man he thinks I am. Yeah, I already began failing Six Impossible Things yesterday. Hell! Everything up to this moment is no choice of mine. My puppy, people, “pen and paper.” But my wayward penis fuck! Someday, somehow, someway, may I Value Having A Real Choice.

547 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 024 ~Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear~

A “great” man once said, no one man should have all that power. The most I ever had was over my furry son’s life. A few screens that show me the “world.” And the idea that I can sleep when I want. Ah, power. Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear.

Monday, July 25, 2022

Saga 024 ~Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear~

Two-Hundred and Fiftieth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means, in He-Man’s words, “I Have The Power!” Rule 13, Power Is All That Matters, right?

From last week to the start of this week, it’s been all about power, energy, and some plain ole oomph. This shows why I’m up at 2:00 in the morning, but that comes later, Madam. Responsibility, or how I look at it. Adulting for the most part. I cannot stress this enough. Was I responsible when it came to the life of my son? Hell!

My Brother’s Keeper? Regarding daddies, Triple B found another one in Father Time. But that doesn’t stop me from blaming myself. Shame is how I’m feeling right this second. I was supposed to be responsible for B III’s well-being. And now, like some parent leaving their kid in the car, I’m worried about a phone. Isn’t that harsh and despicable?

Sad too that the phone, in a way, is so vital in my lousy existence. If B was here, I could try to say that I need it to look after him. Now, if anything, I’m just “Some Guy” Madam. Cherry said, “You men, you’re all the same in the end.” With the way, I feel about people (sigh). Of course, the best man I know died 540 days ago. Braxton is furry and fluffy.

On the other hand, Madam, as the song goes, “But I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo.” Oh, you know I’m way worse. I keep looking at the date and must remember why I began talking to Lady Lu again. Because of my second greatest desire, which is XXX. I’m hopeless.

Fear of both having and losing that at the touch of a button. What other function do any of these devices serve? Oh right, writing as a livelihood. What was I creating only after doing the bare minimum of words for B? The first poem I’ve written in forever, for tits. “It has that power over me,” sex, I mean. At least I have the power to say it. Such is strength. But that’s like a few weeks ago when I got it up to go to Best Buy, and they couldn’t do anything for the phone. And if that happens today? I’ve said the epitome of manhood is fatherhood. A man provides and has the power to do so. Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear

540 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 017 ~Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts~

Somedays, I feel like Han Solo (ha-ha) talking to The Millennium Falcon. “You hear me, baby? Hold together.” After my heart was broken with my kid, what else is there. Everything seems ready to break. “Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts.”

Monday, July 18, 2022

Saga 017 ~Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. This means many things are fixable, replaceable, “new, new,” or trying to last forever. Then there’s love…

And there’s more to it than the body. I know you expect me to be a selfish bastard and talk about myself first, but there’s my boy. The son that I have been writing about. Going on 533 Days now. His body may have broken, but this “crazy little thing called love,” Madam. On one paw, it didn’t save him. On the other, immortality, reincarnation? That’s another thing Madam; “Faith,” all my pop culture references, and all the books I read. Or I was reading before I got into writing a novel all these days, Braxton and me. I haven’t been winning any points for keeping my promises, but I didn’t break one yesterday. I’m on track with Camp NaNoWriMo, somehow, Madam Justice. A miracle?

So explain to me what I was doing from 4:35 AM to 4:55? To quote another song, “Where Is My Mind?” I was breaking it down with a million excuses to deserve laziness. If it isn’t my brain. Then yeah, it’s my own damn body. One will always choose to break the body before the mind. Yabbos make things so much simpler. Afterward? I’ve felt like I need to take a shower after all the dirt, disgust, and depravity from what’s me. I kept asking myself, what was wrong with me? Well, besides the fact I can’t cuddle with B? I mentioned being touch starved in “The Will To B III” And Braxton’s comfy spots. Madam, I’m just breaking the bed, either sleeping or jerking.

Surprised I haven’t broken any of my computers yet with the amount of porn I got. “Ain’t no woman like the one I’ve got.” More like ain’t no porno like the one I got. I’m a pretty sick pup, which insults sick pups, and I apologize. I never fix or cure anything. NaNoWriMo is even an attempt to put off the inevitable. Didn’t I say that if I can complete it, that proves I’m not suffering from fatigue, I’m not fucked up, and I’ll be here forever? So why would I need a doctor? If not me? What about car repairs or something to get out of here. Because this week will be more broken than the last, no doubt. Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts.

533 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 010 ~ Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong~

Hate can be taught, and I had fantastic teachers. I’m sure there’s a better way to say that, but I would instead speak of love. Funny, the best teacher I had there never said a word. And even knowing the why, how? Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong

Monday, July 11, 2022

Saga 010 ~ Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the law doesn’t apply to me… Trump, Bezos, Musk. Worse?

One less thing… unless that “thing” happens to be my son. I can love a dollar. But I’ve never loved anything more than B. And the thing is, I didn’t know how to love him. Fifteen years? I’d lie to his Aunt Carolina about getting him some doggie steps. Flying? Oh yes, my boy is flying now, all thanks to me. Or he’s saving me a spot by the fire. He could be waiting alongside Cerberus, barking, “is he here yet.” Soon? But we’ll get to that, Madam. As I could give you all these quotes about love or again how I continue defining it. I see myself as more of a murderer than ever being merciful. Love’s fucking confusing. And being STUPID about it…

“Yeah, baby, when it comes to females.” I can say I’m not in love with anyone. Of course, “I’ll always love my mama.” I care for Braxton’s aunts. One more than the other, um yeah. Lust though? I find ways to fuck that up too. You should have heard me talking to Cherry Sunday. And then when I imagine bedding M Anime… And before them? It has been six years. Lucky? As in getting lucky? Um, that’s more of a talk for Inspector Echo. All the writing I have to do today. But yesterday, it was all about Yabbos. Keeping it in my pants, ha-ha. What pants? I wasted the entire day not loving myself. Or my craft. There was the Man in the Mirror.

You know the guy I’m killing every day. Because I can’t follow Morgan Freeman’s advice as “Go on and do it EXPEDITIOUSLY!” Well, not since Braxton saved my life before. Braxton knew how to love me. He never worried about right or wrong. All my little boy saw was, “these people upset my daddy.” So he’d spend his days at his gate barking up a storm. It took him around four months to trust his Aunt Carolina. Hell! Anyone who loved filling him up with food. He’d trust with daddy’s life. Treachery, Betrayal, not B. Because he only knew love. Like father like son? Love power. But what to do with it, Madam? Who or what do we become? Love is a miracle. Bad miracle? Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong

526 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 003 ~My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills~

A fan of the “Fever” series. You can tell from the title. I’m a fan of Freedom and Fear too. Not enough of the one. Too many of two this Independence Day. My hope is not in Evangelical white men but in my son… oh. My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills

Monday, July 4, 2022

Saga 003 ~My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. (Puts on his powdered wig). And is that not the American dream. Violence, Wealth, XXX? Oh, doggies?

I wouldn’t be worried about the first three if I was busy comforting Braxton. Between last night, especially today. And Hell, should I write off this whole week? I know you’re saying, “just write, dammit,” ha-ha. Anyway, that is my hope for today. Writing, trying. Isn’t that how America got started? It is Independence Day, after all. Only as I told M Anime yesterday. Unless you’re a white Evangelical man, you woke up with far fewer rights in how long? I’ve never put much of my hope in the government. And I didn’t need The 1619 Project to tell me that wealth is the answer. What about education, um, ok. I read every day, despite Kindle robbing me of 526 days. What about Braxton, 519?

I spoke of Violence, Wealth, and XXX. What of Hope, Fear, but today there’s Freedom? My hope was B. Every single day that there was someone who loved me unconditionally. As far as Fear… where do I even begin? At this second, don’t let me fall back into my bed. Freedom is the fact that I have a choice. And that is a box of worms. Bad choice of words. Only worse would be things like “for wrath, for ruin.” My rage? Still beats depression. Madam, lots of money could do that too. Sometime yesterday, I said, a million dollars. Yet with all the fireworks that went off yesterday and that will assail the skies today. I want to make something else go boom, sigh.

The fact that I might see some Yabbos. If that’s what it takes for me to have any hope, ha. Could it be one more promise that I would see my son again in one way or another, I hope. That somehow or someway, I will find him alive, reincarnated, or like Darth Vader, sister. If I’m not too busy being a selfish bastard over B III’s loss, what about hope for my country, Madam. Will freedom return here someday? I’ve said so many times that my Braxton saw me through the plague but now a Civil War. Like something out of Chronicles of Narnia. Only you know where the title is from, the “Fever” series. But so much Fear… My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills

519 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 361 ~Strike First, Hard, No Mercy~

So a fan of Cobra Kai, and when did Karate Kid come out? Life was much simpler, at least for me, way back when. And I even took Karate for a little bit. Now I never want to get out of bed. Life (and death) is one for Strike First, Hard, No Mercy

Monday, June 27, 2022

Chronicle 361 ~Strike First, Hard, No Mercy~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because of this rule. Now that’s according to my motivations: America and Cobra Kai. Funny?

Are there people up before me? Eric Thomas? I haven’t listened to him in forever. Someone else I can blame for Braxton. My highly motivated ass, and for what? All so I could get to the library before anybody else, and for what. All to write my stories. Oh ok. How long has it been? How many novels have I written? Hell! How do I feel about this week? I woke up this morning on time once again. Upon checking my schedule, I burst into tears. Second time crying today, and it hasn’t even been an hour and a half, Madam. I’m not sure tears on my pillow are what they meant by striking first. To attack life, embrace it, hell fuck it. Meaning um…

Anyway, hard is what I know about. Yeah, in case you’ve wondered what’s taking me so long to get this out. Ok, I’ll stop with all the sex talk. And looking at Jill Valentine. In case you’re wondering where I got your body from. She fought Nemesis in Resident Evil. Nemesis was the monster. But in Greek mythology, she was the goddess of “Revenge, Retribution, and Fortune.” But you’re not here to talk about some recent studies, I know that. If I struck or instead stroked my hard… yes, I know, I’m trying, but soft Yabbos make life pretty damn hard. What about the Day Job, my dog dying, and all my dangerous thoughts? I can’t fight these things. So as far as striking hard.

No mercy? I must be talking about my bed because I never leave it. I swore yesterday; I thought I was turning over a new leaf. My body has no mercy on my mind, or is it the other way around? I always come up with a new excuse, or something else will hurt me. If anything, I have no mercy on myself for what happened to B III. But should I ever, Madam. Staying here in my own Hell is precisely what I deserve. What more is there, hmm? Again I look to the number of this chronicle. One more year down for a crime that’s nothing compared to B III. My skeeviness, sins, and shames at this moment. Strike First, Hard, No Mercy.

512 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will