Chronicle 140 ~B In The Corner~

Don’t remember when I was a boy (I still am, overgrown baby at 37) if anyone ever told me to stand in the corner. I got a friend who wants to be a real fighter; as for what I want to do in the corner. Sit in the fetal position and cry. B In The Corner

Thursday, November 18, 2021

Chronicle 140 ~B In The Corner~

291 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I hate saying this, but this is another day I’ll curl up in the corner.

“Legends don’t die; they reload.” There’s also, um, “Marines don’t die. They go to Hell and regroup.” Now ain’t the time for such ideas? I also know I’m no legend or marine. But B III, the world is a step closer to the brink, and where are you, apocalypse partner? Braxton, I know I’m late talking to you today. When I did wake up from my nap today, I was scared out of my mind. It’s been 291 days, and I’ll always miss you guarding the stairs. The days when you would sit in the den waiting for me to share my fries Little B. It was the only way I could get undressed. The corner of my bed B III brings me to today.

First, it was your spot to protect me. I would wake up and not fear a goddamn thing in the darkness. You’d be sitting right there staring into the abyss which is outside this room. Second, I’ve been reading a lot about what dogs can see. It’s no secret that even when they said you were going blind, you could see me. You fought back the evils of my mind. No wonder I’m thinking about the military, or it could be First Blood and Red Dawn. Anyway, third, speaking of movies, you were always in my corner, my Mick. Nicknames? You, more than anybody, know my affinity for good cinema. In this case, Rocky. And then, last Saturday, I went looking for an Apollo Creed.

I’ve been waiting to ask you all week, what would you think about that? Lord Give Me A Sign as the song goes. Last night your grandma called and told me your great grandfather’s dog passed. Are you making new friends? That was a warning. Dammit, I could not go through such a loss again. Then at the same time, I could have saved him B. I’m talking about Chase at PetSmart. To be a Dad again? I’ve never stopped. Only I’m not worthy. Now yes fuck R. Kelly as a human being but that song Bad Man. “And don’t need no love.” That’s what I keep telling myself, but there’s one problem. You’re standing right there in the corner and ain’t hear no bell. Woke, B In The Corner

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 137 ~Victory Is Faster Than Escape~

So what did I win today? I didn’t get fired from a job I hate; my humiliations were kept small. Somebody got banned on my blog. I get to talk more about my dead son. This for sure ain’t winning, but where would I run? “Victory Is Faster Than Escape”

Monday, November 15, 2021

Chronicle 137 ~Victory Is Faster Than Escape~

Two-Hundred And Fourteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and money is the fastest way out of any situation. Well, a bullet, bucks, and, yeah, boobies.

I find the sandman can be as efficient as any hitman. He acts as quickly, at least because, as you can see, I’m still alive. I swear, J, if you told me I could close my eyes and never open them again… I’m not saying something STUPID like I love you, I’m not crazy either. Yeah, I keep telling myself that. Hell, I ain’t been right since Braxton died; I wasn’t right before that, but I at least had someone. I told Carolina Bound today, you know B III’s Aunt that it keeps piling up. All that pain, prose, and those penis-pumping wants. Is it any wonder I became a monk 288 Days ago? Victory, Escape, no Madam, I was defeated. Accept my unconditional surrender.

NaNoWriMo hasn’t defeated me yet, but I still lie my ass off every day. It’s like I’m some make-believe General and I would settle for that than what I’ve been. Today has been challenging, and what am I complaining about? Who am I complaining to; a better question, J? This Monday, I have yet to cross the point of no return regarding my writing. I even listened to some motivations, and I was getting revved up and then, of course, life. It seems that I and everyone else in my life are dreaming of a place to call home. Where’s that? Tell me where Braxton is and that I could follow him. B III fought hard just to get home. He’d want me to win.

The problem is to be a winner, I have to destroy the man he tried to save. Does that make any sense, Madam? How do they say you win some, you lose some, but you live. Talk to Braxton about his last fight. I had to destroy his father and become the freaking reaper J. I was telling Cherry this morning that a man provides for his family, and may I be such a man someday. I’ve often said that the epitome of manhood is not where you stick your dick but what happens after. Being a father, that’s me winning, success, victory. I would instead Take The Long Way Home. Braxton died at 15; I’m 37 and getting older. Victory Is Faster Than Escape

288 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 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

Too many damn sticky notes. Floating around me. Those yellow note pads are only one more thing that I’m hoarding for work. Humiliation, Hurt, a hunger for something more than this. But no, only pain. And I know… Pain Should Never Be Hoarded but

Monday, November 8, 2021

Chronicle 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

Two-Hundred And Thirteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m the biggest victim in America. Woe is them and me, right. Oh, the pain…

Yeah, that ain’t true. As the song goes, “Mo Money Mo Problems.” What I wouldn’t give for such burdens. Ahem, my son’s life, light reminders, literally parts of my flesh. If I ever get that tattoo of him or decide to become a monk, hmm. Asking where I’ve been today. What on a Sunday evening, knowing that this week is going to suck? It’s torturous making money. Or at least the way that I go about it. Instead, I would choose to be a pimp, a man of prose, a pornographer, but we’ll get to that. Like everything else, sigh. Money is the root of all evil or the lack of it. I go back and forth. It’s strange how sins connect. Greed and Sloth.

I would say that I’m greedy with sleep, but what have I been doing all day? If I haven’t been on my belly sleeping, I’ve been grinding away. No, I don’t mean that in a good way Madam. I’ve worked on two galleries today, and neither one was Braxton’s. Earlier this morning, it was all about Yabbos or the complete lack thereof. Coins, cash. There are another few C words I could talk about, but neither one is polite conversation. Madam, the truth is, I hoard lust. If I had the money, it would all go right back there now. What about my boy? Braxton’s been gone 281 Days, and again where is his reminder, his tribute. Well, other than sitting on my nightstand, Madam.

So why not wrath? To roar, to rampage, to have revenge. It’s thoughts like that which let me know humanity. There is too much hate, misery, and pain. To quote another song, I’m just a “Sucker for Pain.” It’s what makes me the perfect sadist; I receive but choose to give. The only time I denied, despised, and became disgusted by pain was that of Braxton’s. Madam, the pain I’ve felt of losing my only begotten son… Should I chill with that religious reference, Madam? Anyway, that kind of pain nobody but me deserves. Masochism? No, I don’t enjoy being in pain. How about being broke, belittled, and Blue Balls? Where should the pain go, I ask. There’s nowhere. Yet, Pain Should Never Be Hoarded

281 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 123 ~Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends~

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 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 116 ~A Gods Weakness Is No~

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 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 109 ~Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport~

I don’t care for hunting. For food, okay. But killing majestic beasts as you want to man-up or because it’s Human Nature. The Most Dangerous Game? The only “life” I’ve taken had four legs and loved me the most. Humans eww. Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport

Monday, October 18, 2021

Chronicle 109 ~Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport~

Two-Hundred And Tenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t hunt people. On the one hand, some girls disagree. On the other, my aunt.

She for sure thought I was going to be a supervillain and wanted to destroy the planet. Me, the guy that’s so afraid to be in charge at work. Who’s thinking about every little thing that he screwed up the last time he was there? What did she know, considering…? Well, we won’t get into that. Let’s say that I haven’t killed anybody. Wait, no, scratch that. The things I can no longer speak. I have never been in a car wreck, but that changed some months back. Yeah, remember, Sunday, January 31, 2021, I killed my best friend, Braxton. A dangerous thought of what I wanted before I knew Braxton was dying, so I won’t voice it. Only if anyone deserves “something” that’s me.

Hell, I ain’t worth much except to a scammer. I swear I like books, but how many people have I had to block on Goodreads? While we’re on the subject, what am I reading now? In case you didn’t know, AHEM “Time-Travel.” Today is Saturday which means, as always, this week is going to suck. So again, what will I be thinking about in Hell? Dystopian Girls 2? Mason doesn’t hunt for girls but somehow finds them. Or speak of some tiddies, and they appear. A.J. Markam’s books have me looking up the Kama Sutra. There are also more Harem Romances. Hunting, Looking, Stalking, as I told Lady Luna today, I’m lost. I’m not chasing anything but my destruction. my Lazy Ass, come Find Me.

For the record, I don’t care for hunting. Unless we’re talking about something like Squid Game where things are “equal.” Humanity has lost sight of that. Now, Braxton, he was my pack, and I did what I did to make sure he would live… Other people, why are they there? That’s why the world is so dangerous. It’s all one big game of “Who’s The Better Killer.” We’re all fighting the same enemy, people, that is. One man said it was Hate, but no, Madam, you start at the root, and that is Fear. Braxton feared nothing… Well, his own kind, leaving me, and then only me. I killed and got nothing for it. Beasts have reasons, yet people survive. Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport.

260 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will