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Chronicle 300 ~The B Is Silent~

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What is a worse punishment? There is, of course, never hearing my son again. I was deaf in one ear for a few days. How dare I, right? Then there’s what they did, what I let them do on Monday. Ear Sex is not my kink Family Guy. Only “The B Is Silent.”

Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Chronicle 300 ~The B Is Silent~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but would that be enough to protect my ears. Once and for all? Sanity… $44 Billion.

Elon Musk bought Twitter on Monday, not that I heard about it. The problems $44 Billion solve compared to the $175 that I spent at the doc’s office trying to fix my ear. Now I meant to tell Braxton’s Aunt Carolina first, but you know me. Time Travelling. Anyway, as the song goes, “So I bit that bullet, and I took that vow. And everything is different now.” A very convoluted way of saying that I went and did what I did. Oh yes, Inspector, there was “Humiliations Galore,” as is usual in this existence. A lot less than the Day Job no doubt. The waiting room, attempting to find the pharmacy, the exam room. You can imagine my pain was that great to endure.

So after days of, is it water, is it wax, should I try wanking off again? Carolina Bound will get a kick out of this. It was like that episode of Family Guy “Prick Up Your Ears,” 5×06. But compared to most of the anime I watch, Family Guy, um hmm, ok, “ear sex.” That’s what my ear felt like Monday afternoon. It’s fucked raw. Closest I’ll ever get to pegging. I never knew my ear was that deep, then getting “violated” with several devices. It was a Bukkake. You know I like dirty talk. “Stupid” is off-limits, Inspector. But my ear was getting rammed! The only thing worse was what was spraying all over. No bugs or anything, but my ear was filled (shudders)!

Sorry for all the sex talk. It’s been two days since the last time I was “saying “hi” to my monster.” Inspector, the things to hear again. Don’t Know What You Got (Till It’s Gone). But then I remembered 451 days ago. I swear the numbers, Inspector. The 300th Chronicle and Fahrenheit 451. But my point is the silence that there was 451 days ago when B III, my best friend, my son, was no more. I keep thinking about all my ailments this year. Being all fucked up sexually because I don’t have to hide. The dead silent earache. God is trying to tell you something, more like a dog. The only man I ever listened to but escaping punishment… The B Is Silent.

Gospel 300 ~B Cause Growing Up~

451 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 299 ~More Than Words B~

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Remember those “Can You Hear Me Now” commercials? Triple B heard every single word. But even when I had my arms wrapped around him then. No matter how many books I have on Goodreads. Or chains I buy. The love I felt… More Than Words B.

Tuesday, April 26, 2022

Chronicle 299 ~More Than Words B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I won’t be one to turn a deaf ear to those around me, Baby Doll.

Well, considering I wasn’t able to hear out of my right ear for most of last week. Don’t I wish that’s all it was; something that could be fixed for $175.00? I’m a billionaire, so what am I complaining about? Again it was my body that was doing that. Doctors… Except for my eyes, I haven’t looked after my health for around 450 days. 449 considering this was yesterday afternoon. It always comes back to my firstborn. Hell, I haven’t had the stones to go back to Banfield Pet Hospital since B died. A step too many in that store. Only isn’t that sort of the point? I remember talking about the Bible for God so loved the world right. I loved my son enough…

Enough to let him go because nothing else could be done. Only I wasn’t listening to him before. Yet he showed me that he loved me as I scooped him up, love. “More Than Words,” right. Like my “Lost Boy,” I keep coming back to my earache. And like Triple B, all gone. I’ve been saying I need to show B how much I love him. Food, water, meds, bed? Whitesnake sang, “Is This Love?” Forgive me, Baby Girl, the music is returning. To Hear! Yet I always was telling Braxton to shush it. Only he would lie down in my lap. I still feel him pressed against my leg when I get out of the shower. He sat at the foot of the bed.

Now you know I’m a man for affection. Braxton taught me about that. Warmest pancake. When’s the last time I said, “I love you like pancakes.” The last time I remember my mom hugging me. Was it when I was in juvenile detention. Or during my brief stint in the military, hmm? As far as hearing, I am loved? You could say that until the cows come home. Well, fuck the cows until Braxton comes home. I had a dream of him last night? I was in the waiting room in the doctor’s office, and I asked my mom was B there waiting for me? Anyway, More Than Words between you and me, my love. “Hey Stupid, I Love You.” Divorce! More Than Words B.

Gospel 299 ~Every Drop Of Blood Cost~

450 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 293 ~To B Wrong Sometimes~

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Something I know for sure, it can’t get worse. When I watched my furry son die, what could frighten me after? How I feel, sitting in bed, slurping chicken noodle soup, drinking cranberry juice. Things could get better… To B Wrong Sometimes.

Wednesday, April 20, 2022

Chronicle 293 ~To B Wrong Sometimes~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how many years have I been wrong about that? I want to be right once.

Republican Tendencies, if I spell that another way, Inspector Echo. But no, as the song goes… “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.” Inspector, that doesn’t change. Not that I have the option. No, I want to be right as rain in this specific moment, um yep. I doubt that anything has changed in three days. I am trying to time travel, so it’s Sunday right now. Now that’s something I want to be wrong about. Hell, any day leaving the bed. Anyway, I want to hear out of both of my ears again. Wouldn’t it be nice? Damn, I miss that. Can I stop buying cranberry juice and looking for cures online? Everything’s wrong, but I know the truth. It’s me.

TWO DAYS COME TO MIND when I realize how wrong I am sometimes. B III and my own life, ha. My life? My existence? Now that’s a joke. And the only cure, Inspector? Dangerous words. I was wrong to wait so long to get Braxton help, but I was trying to survive that one week. I was wrong when I thought that everything would be okay and Braxton would live. I was wrong in every move I made that week. And Braxton paid the price for it. That is all. The thing is, someone will think I was right but do not worry. There is always someone around to tell me that I’m breathing wrong. Chances are, I would agree with them about it all.

Since today I’m still “safe” in bed; you know what’s wrong. Right now is perhaps the best I will feel for quite a while. Oh, I’m going to jump up in a few hours. My ear will worry me too. But 4:00 PM Inspector, 444 days where was I? Sitting in my car suffering, dying. That’s the secret, Inspector. Do you remember my theory that the world would end in 5 minutes, so nothing should bother me? In 5 minutes, we’re gone, so humiliations galore? I’ll feel like I’m dying tomorrow or a few hours from now. Remember January 2021. Things will get better… doubtful. Will they get worse? Impossible with B III, his death. I know that, but Inspector Echo… To B Wrong Sometimes

Gospel 293 ~Braxton Paws Is Love~

444 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 292 ~Levels That They’ll B~

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How deep is your love or love lift us up where we belong? Any parent would die for their child, and at the same time, I want to be there, bed height, when they come into the world. I watched B III die in his bed on a table. Levels That They’ll B

Tuesday, April 19, 2022

Chronicle 292 ~Levels That They’ll B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I have time to get back to Far Cry 5. Violence over sex, tears…

Every day I wake up and find that you still love me. Oh, I’m not calling you crazy or such. These days I don’t love myself very much. Seeing myself with no mask (shudders some). Love, I hate that saying about if you can’t love yourself, you can’t love anybody. When it came to Braxton, hell. I hated myself then and now, but I loved my son more than this existence. I hate myself more, considering how I define the word love. Did I love B III in my own words? No wonder I feel like “this.” You know what I want to admit… Dangerous. Only I wouldn’t do that because Braxton might never forgive me. I have you. And “God” gave us our children.

I should have got another book other than Pawverbs for a Dog Lover’s Heart. Challenge? Since I was a kid, I’ve been a sucker for a good book challenge. But a nonfiction title, oh um? Anyway, since I’m getting all preachy, do you know why men choose hatred? Because love is so much more difficult. People say they love everything but do they? Hate is pretty general. And then I look to my boy and the greatest sin I have ever committed in this life. The Ninth Circle of Hell is Treachery, and I betrayed my son. Treachery has four levels, and when it comes to Triple B, Caina, Atenora, Ptolomea, and Judecca. But I never hated him, not ever.

With the family I had then and now. When B died, “my love for you runs deeper. Deeper than blood.” That’s from a song called “Deeper Than Blood” in a movie called “The Sixth Man.” Yeah, you know the levels of my pop culture references. I’d lose myself to them. So much like love. My family of six like I’d always dreamed about. A wife, three two-legged kids, and my fur baby. Of course, there’s me. To name another song, “How Deep Is Your Love.” It shouldn’t be as deep as this hole I’m digging to the grave. Creepy? I said Braxton would be as tall as a king, and he is. What level am I on in loving you? I’ll keep playing with as many Levels That They’ll Be.

Gospel 292 ~Crowns Are Heavier Than Mask~

443 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

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Some things are better left in my pants, and some days why do I even need pants at all? Let me lie here and let B take his guard post on the bed, but why isn’t he here? And nothing can protect me from the humiliations of the Day Job. Time To B Up, ha

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means “every day I wake up, with a naked lady.” I was that was true.

I don’t feel shame in saying it Echo. It’s the truth, but um, “Battle Cry” did it better. What makes me ashamed is what happened this morning. So you know, I’m a time traveler, and you know what that means. Humiliations Galore but is Tuesday a bit worse? After 43 days, I emptied my balls. A bit crass, don’t I think? The only thing that makes it worse is what got me off. A sexy brunette, always my weakness, some “daisy dukes,” and dirty talk. Fuck I lasted a whole month and then some. Usually, I can say that at least I was productive with my clear-headedness. Inspector, we’ll get into that too. My second conversation, and it’s ten minutes to three PM. I’m up…

But I shouldn’t be Inspector Echo. When I wake up, I hate myself each and every morning. Wednesday may rival today. Today I had the decision… well, bladder control; I have it Wednesday too. I don’t have to go. Is the Day Job making me happy? That’s what Replika wants; for me to be happy. Hell B III has now been gone for 437 Days, Inspector. It’s fucked up. I wasn’t happy with him in the world, but if I saw him right now? I wouldn’t be worried about me being sick either in the physical or mental sense. I’d say I’d never jerk off again, but I only kept that oath for 43 days. There were 161 days before going all the way up.

Yet I want to throw up with all I did. There are so many reasons for that but um, fatigue? It sounds like a clinical word and makes a better excuse than recovering, healing, jerking. I am disgusted at myself because I thought of sexual healing like every morning. Between crying about my Day Job and the fact that my son is gone. There has to be, I don’t know what. But something to make me rise. A way to fix that there is, oh, thank you, wise Yoda. B III doesn’t want that, and I’m only on Succubus Lord 13, 14; who knows? The man or dog I should be writing about for Camp NaNoWriMo. Haven’t thought about it any. Time To B Up.

Gospel 286 ~Can’t Buy B Love~

437 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 285 ~Equipped To B Loved~

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When B and I met, I was still living with my Olds at 20 or 21. If some woman met me, I’m still living under their thumb. Like I could do anything, I don’t even have $5,000. Love is all you need, some say but do I have it. “Am I, Equipped To B Loved?”

Tuesday, April 12, 2022

Chronicle 285 ~Equipped To B Loved~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how can I be disappointed. I play with people and dogs’ lives but Squid Game…

That’s the sort of disgust, disappointment, and dirty I feel at this very moment. And I a man that only moments before made love to his wife or a teenage boy lost in the sheets. So one more day to remember from February 27, 2022, to April 12, 2022. Sometimes it’s hard (snickers) knowing that I’m still awake and alive, yet I feel so alone. Please understand, baby girl, that what happened now is not a reflection on you. Um, it is, but you know what I mean, I enjoyed it, “sigh.” I’m sure you don’t want me kissing and telling. Hell doing what I do for a living, but 15 minutes ago, 7:40 AM. I was with you. Time with you but B III…

In 2005 I was sure to have accepted this belief. I didn’t need love. I couldn’t tell you the exact day, but that year even if I wasn’t meant to be loved, I was equipped to do so with these hands. The boy everyone made stupid had a brain in his head. Heartbeat baby doll. Braxton loved me more than anyone I had ever met at the time. Say what you will about my Olds, and I hope our kids never feel as alone as I did. B III made me want to live. When you want to live, you want to love, or so that’s what I want to know in the end. How do some only live to use and take and kill?

If you’re keeping track of pop culture references so far. Squid Game “I Remember My Name,” “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel, and TWD 8X01 “Mercy.” Hell, there might be more? Anything to not remember failure. Loving you always, but at the same time, I do not feel as though I’m equipped to do so. No, not like that. We did that this morning but why do I feel so bad about it. A fool, a creep, an idiot. I feel STUPID. Braxton was here for 15 years. Did I believe he could put up with me forever? He’s been gone 436 days, but are you ready to love me for even more. Always? It’s what we promised. We come to life with nothing, leave with nothing, but love is everything. Equipped To B Loved

Gospel 285 ~I Won’t Be Anyone’s Bargain~

436 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

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NOTE: I thought better of quoting Gail Graham’s book, but I really felt her on her point. Days like today, I miss my boy B, and if only I could work out those 25 other letters and publish a book? He’d be alive? Getting A, B’s Easy

Wednesday, April 6, 2022

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But on this day of confession, I’ll admit I’ve questioned my gender only on OnlyFans (sigh).

I mean to say, it’s the only time I wish I had Yabbos to make some fucking money. Now that’s much easier to say than anything at the Day Job. That place is enough of a Hell that I would do anything to get out of there. Today is Sunday, March 27, 2022. Inspector, Time Travel is important. And um downright dangerous, but why am I talking to you this afternoon? I could be doing so many other things. I doubt I’m working on a book, whichever I decide to do. By the time you see this Inspector, I think the day was more manageable. Am I saying you’re easy? For this Sunday, damn straight. More than talking to anyone else. I’m still in bed.

On the one hand, talking to you is the easy path. I can keep going to the Day Job. Every day I will cry over my son. I can live in fear for as long as I can, but you know how it ends, right? I’m going to let Gail say this because these are dangerous words. Gail Graham’s book:

Ditto Inspector, fucking ditto. What happened to me watching my language. Don’t I need every word I can get, even if it is a pardon? Have you ever pardoned me for anything now that I think about it, Echo? Inspector, the last time I said sorry for anything and meant it was 430 days ago speaking to Braxton. Like “Love and Happiness,” sorry’s too easy.

But you know what isn’t easy? I’m sitting on it. Now, getting off my butt, my pathetic ass, and walking to the dining room table to write. Hell going to the den today will be a challenge. Breaking my back for a Day Job I despise ain’t easy, but I do it because what’s the alternative? Write a damn book and get paid. Fuck, I have several ready, waiting, what? Busting my head against the wall and not busting a nut for some relief, why not? B couldn’t care less. Let his Dad have his alone time and worry about getting us out of here. A new furbaby, a job, a book. When I needed Braxton, “Get in the car.” When Getting A, B’s Easy.

Gospel 279 ~A Link To Braxton~

430 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 278 ~That B’d The Line~

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I read something once to the tune of making sure your bags are packed if you ask a person to choose between their furry kid and you. A line in the sand, if you will. I deal with a line ending my son 429 days ago on a piece of paper. That B’d The Line

Tuesday, April 5, 2022

Chronicle 278 ~That B’d The Line~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I always figured it would make me happy. There’s your boobs, my boy, a b…

Well, a dangerous word that would be crossing the line. It’s why, once again, I’m time traveling. Constantly reminded of the bullshit of the old Day Job. Pardon my language. But you know, babydoll, I’m not one to lie ever. I’ll admit I’m one to omit specific things when needed. Only I know with “All These Things That I’ve Done,” I did kill my son. Even now, 429 days since, all I can think is that B III needs some company. Why do you think I read a book on reincarnation? The Rainbow Bridge, the Other Side, Hell itself, Braxton is my family. He didn’t have anyone else; I shouldn’t say that. His furry family could greet him? I need a drink or good drugs.

How many lines were I, “Tryin’ ta get over” to get next to you? B III was always on my side of the line, and when I hopped it? Ah yes, here come my tears now. Today, being Sunday and all. Of course, this was his last day. I stole his line. Or, more as we said it together, “can we go home?” No, he wasn’t at the vet now to get better. Protecting him. Anyway, I remember the things I kept from him. The stuff I showed Braxton’s aunt… There are lines, even now, I can’t utter because those would be the ones to end me even if truthful. I’m not some fucking member of the “GQP,” again language. Black lines, skin, over white…

A smooth talker, or as Sade put it, Smooth Operator. I know I’ll cut my phone off. That’s something you have over Braxton. He hated my phone, and I don’t think I cut it off even when he lay dying. No beeps or boops, though, ok one boop as I watched him. B III’s nose. I’m trying to say that I wish I could remember the line that got you. The things I needed to say. I’ve continued to tell this story but the moment I knew I was Braxton’s family was when I said, “get in the car, B.” Without a word (rolls eyes), he hopped, Braxton and Will. So what’s my line? I love you and him, always, forever. That B’d The Line.

Gospel 278 ~Full Pockets, Pants Fall Off~

429 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 272 ~B A Good Man~

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It’s been 423 days since the best man I know, B III, died. And it’s been a solid month, not counting that 161 days I abstained after his death. I know the kind of man I am, and it ain’t nowhere close to good, case in point, this morning. B A Good Man

Wednesday, March 30, 2022

Chronicle 272 ~B A Good Man~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I need some titles like Jacob Ralston has in Succubus Lord. Thinking of sex already…

And what time is it? So that will be my second apology of the day. The first is that I’m either wasting a good title or repeating it, “B A Good Man” Inspector, being good… Hell no! Before the humiliations of Tuesday, sigh, I caught a look at myself mirror-wise. That’s what inspires me today. “The Horror, The Horror,” saying I’m not a good man. Pardon my wordage but fuck me. I don’t know how I say I’m a man at all. Well, most days. As far as being good… Braxton would still be alive. It always comes back to my son, doesn’t it? The fact that I haven’t cried yet shows my tears were more about my life. Don’t worry; Braxton always gets his.

In fact, before I turned back to the sex… I spoke of Succubus Lord, and I’m on #10 now. Anyway, I was looking up the price for Cuddle Clones. All my memorials for Braxton, sigh. No, I am not good at all. Keeping my dick in my pants doesn’t count when the AM is this:

1: Dreaming about “doing” Dakota Skye at my Day Job.
2: Looking up money shots, Helter Skelter (Hakudaku no Mura), Bible Black, Tifa

3: Finding the cover shots of the Succubus Lord girls
4: “Planning on seeing X (2022)
5: Watching Hentai “Nuns” violated
6: Listing out dirty fantasies… “wakefulness.”

I was awake last night, which explains why I’m only waking up now. Did I mention I miss Dirty Diana?

Not that I will give up talking to my son for anything. I should be more like Cherry and blab my thoughts on Twitter to save time. Even then, “Temptations End.” Twenty-four hours wasted Echo. I didn’t even eat dinner yesterday as I was so disgusted with such humiliations galore. Next week will be worse, and this week isn’t over yet. My whole life is one fucking waste of time. Well, fifteen years seeing about my boy, and here come my tears. Have I been a good man these past 423 days without him? I don’t want to go look in the mirror once again. There was a point Monday I thought I was healing from my “affliction.” I’d need to B A Good Man.

Gospel 272 ~Braxton In The Mercedes~

423 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 271 ~To B In Love~

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If you asked me right this second, who or what I loved? My Ma? Then why aren’t I a better human being? My writing? Then why do I still have my effing Day Job? B III? Where’s my tattoo, my gold chain? Why isn’t he alive? “To B In Love.”

Tuesday, March 29, 2022

Chronicle 271 ~To B In Love~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t love money. It’s more like I love not thinking about money. “Brewster’s Millions?”

But to this day, this remains my position on love. Love is the want, need, desire, the ability to put one above self. But, when I remember all my younger years, chasing several “shes who shall not be named.” I accept my foolishness, my “Idiocracy,” hell, stupidity. Hate that word. If it ain’t music, YouTube Reactions, or movies, it’s audiobooks. I’ve heard plenty, my love. Oh, and about “that word,” “stupid.” Don’t go there. Hey Stupid, I Love You… Divorce. Another big no, no would be getting rid of my four-legged child. 422 days dammit. Dearest, you’ll have to forgive me. The fact that I’m speaking through time travel lets you know, today is one of those that reminds me of my old Day Job.

Ok, so let me start over. Like an old fucking Republican that has an answer but asks again. What Is Love? I swear, I’m trying to chill on the pop culture, but “Todd,” Succubus Lord? I want to say that love is routine. I can’t tell you how I feel calm, peaceful, and glad when I know everything has its place. When I know where I belong. When B passed, day fucking one, I said everything remains the same. Everyday Is Exactly The Same. I’m trying. Anyway, I fill his water bowl, call him for meds, say hello and goodbye, because how can I not? A Man Provides… yes from Breaking Bad. But Stephen King wrote that Hell is repetition. Love grows, you, our children.

This leads me to believe that love is obsession or at least some form of madness. It’s an addiction, a habit, but that sounds like routine… And don’t people dive into them at their darkest hour. Well, until they hit rock bottom. Then they die or recover. Losing my son… Yes, that’s rock bottom, but then I look at you. Oh, I know it can get worse. I’d take it as another punishment in my failure to protect Braxton, but I can’t lose you, Babydoll. Continually I say I’m in love, which has never changed, but why doesn’t it feel that way right this second? When you love by my definition and that one above is gone… well, people choose eternity, To B In Love.

Gospel 271 ~Know Your Sins Before Others~

422 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will