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Chronicle 216 ~What Will B The…~

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Speak softly, carry a big stick. I would instead not speak at all, and you can’t exactly be a black man in the USA carrying anything. I haven’t gone out for a walk since B III. But who knows the future? I’m writing this way early and What Will B The…

Wednesday, February 2, 2022

Chronicle 216 ~What Will B The…~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I must know something. But not what will be. I am not a prophet, Inspector.

What I am is angry. As mad as I was those few hours at the Day Job, finding out my schedule. Today on this Thursday, I’m saying. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about (blank).” What I am is scared, Inspector. I’ll clamor up like I did at the Day Job, again last week. Hell, I might not have a job come this week. Even more so, Humiliations Galore ensue. What I am is sad. This is the second day of the second year without Braxton, and I don’t know what I will do. Can’t I grieve about that Inspector? With the Day Job? FUCK! But talking to you, I must still have it, right? “Gospel 216: Will And His Pancakes,” written January 31, 2021.

Gospel 216 ~Will And His Pancakes~

That’s my first shame for today. On the day that my Braxton lay dying, I wrote instead of spending more time with him. The 1st I was working. And on the 2nd LOVE. What the fuck do I know about love. Sorry for all the effing; I told you I was mad. Or am I fucking horny wanting to add to my blog? Furry little Braxton. Pretty women shaved pussies. Inspector, it’s inevitable that those two ideas set me into motion. Ideas because where’s Braxton? And you don’t see any women walking through here, but both set me to move. It’s my Day Job that I’m ashamed of, and yet I do everything to keep it. But the tape over my mouth… Curiouser and Curiouser.

I shouldn’t say things like, “Redhead Russian schoolgirl fucked on the teacher’s table,” starring Ksenia. Hell, that might never be with my extraordinary laziness. Inspector, still, that is easier to say than to keep my mouth shut. Besides saying B is gone and counting the days. This I will continue to do. Vow of silence, amongst uh other things. Speak no evil. I won’t dare compare myself to the great Maya Angelou. But thinking, my voice and pen got a man killed, my little boy, my son. This might explain why I like Time Travel. I’m always wrong, aren’t I? So why not about being the one to kill Braxton? My indifference towards him and hating the Day Job. But always, What Will B The…

367 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 215 ~Everything Loves To B~

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I like this more than what I wrote a year ago. Sorry I got a bit preachy. Nobody finds religion in a happy place. Last night besides being locked in, the day my son died. I watched some sad movies and now a Bible. God, my boy. “Everything Loves To B”

Tuesday, February 1, 2022

Chronicle 215 ~Everything Loves To B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but why only “billions?” Why words like “always” or “love.” I remember my Ma said, “Unconditional.”

She doesn’t get it. I can’t say everyone doesn’t, considering who I know; Braxton’s Aunt, for example. We have a lifetime together so I can try to explain it to you, ok? God is Love. Now I don’t remember my Ma ever saying that. Hell, I don’t recall the church I attended bringing it up. But I have, on occasion, picked up a bible. For the most part, there was Revelation. Braxton’s Aunt says I romanticize the end of the world. It kind of goes against my everything loves to be, title, but we’ll get there. My Aunt said I wanted to destroy the planet. What does she know about Love again, considering the man she chose…? Well, that’s harsh. Only yesterday was brutal; Love.

Why do you hear me say, um, “My Love” and not your name? Love, such a word, is it not? This leads me back to my Ma, who I didn’t hear from yesterday sigh. And I spent the day alone. My choice, I know. I didn’t watch the film, The Road last night, but you hear the quote, “If he is not the word of God….” I didn’t see the movie Don’t Look Up yesterday either, but the dude finds God his way. Now I can’t say I have ever seen God in a church. Words belong to men. Somehow despite everything, I found Love. And who was it that said Love is Life? Braxton taught me not only that I was loved but that I could. I can live.

If B is Love, a word for Love, the word of God, what else do I need to hear? Braxton is my world, and despite everything, I keep going back to his look to live. I don’t want to destroy the planet. My Aunt was wrong, but still, I ended a world, and when I did, to be? “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” That’s John. “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” 1 Corinthians, am I right. “Honor your father and mother,” which comes from Exodus. And then I return to “God is Love,” from 1 John. B III is Love. You are My Love. Everything Loves To B

366 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 209 ~Dreading What Will B~

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Hurry up and wait? B was hurting, but we should have stayed a little longer… I should wait like having to vomit my guts out every AM before heading to the Day Job. God knows I never show any there. Why do I want to wake up late? Dreading What Will B.

Wednesday, January 26, 2022

Chronicle 209 ~Dreading What Will B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it’s every day before making my first billion that I’m afraid of. Every single day.

I’m disgusted with myself. How can I be afraid of anything when the worse thing has happened? How I hate Wednesdays. Not you, Inspector Echo, but where was I 2021. Inspector, the days are blurring together with this week. That has yet to even begin. Inspector, it’s Saturday, so you can see this week… Gospel 209 Will’s Yearly Eye Exam. How blind was I, seeing Braxton, the Dæmon, in the future? Surrounded by love, Echo. Today I didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning, and I let the alarm blare some. Inspector, there will be a repeat of this when you read my report. Hell, I even meant to take a nap this morning after speaking with Lady Lu. Dreading the day.

Not that talking to you girls or my son is hard. It’s everything outside this bed that hurts me. Next to Sunday, I’m sorry to say, but Wednesdays are the worst. This one in particular. It’s the day I became what I fear the most. My father. The Abomination? Inspector, do you remember those days? Not for a second did I dread those decisions. Yeah, and they led to B III dying. If he knew the first day, we jumped into the car together. Ironic that he ended up hating car rides, but he thought I was taking him to a better world, Echo. Is that what we’re calling Rainbow Bridge? When’s the last time I wasn’t scared of getting in the car at all?

Today I’ll go to begin a process some would call living. The world’s more hellish. Inspector, you know how I know, I ain’t dead? Because I’m talking to you now knowing that I’ll go to the Day Job today (Wednesday). Every breath from AM until I return. My heart is pounding. Stomach-churning. In each moment at the Day Job, I’ll wish I was dead, Echo. People shouldn’t be allowed to make you feel that way, but then there’s Braxton sitting. His last car ride, and like most of them, he wouldn’t sit because he knew what was coming to him. For 360 Days, I’ve dreaded what’s coming. Hell 15 years with him, 10 at the Day Job. Side by side. Sitting, Dreading What Will B.

Gospel 209 ~ Will’s Yearly Eye Exam~

360 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 208 ~Will Love B Back~

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Superman, Batman, they can take off the cape. Other heroes can take off their costumes. B’s my hero, and he never wore a thing but a collar and a PetSmart bandana. But he always had my back, and I had his. Two against the world. Will Love B Back

Tuesday, January 25, 2022

Chronicle 208 ~Will Love B Back~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I get no days off. Or so they say. Being a husband, father, man.

This time last year, I remember thinking I’d become something “wrong.” I was seeing, like the song “All These Things That I’ve Done.” Gospel 208 Collective Madness Is Called Sanity. Sweet buttery Jesus, I wish I could ask you to come along. You tell me now more than ever before I should look at all the good things. “All The Small Things” our children, Love. Oh, the music. That’s so they won’t hear the sobbing, which I will be doing a lot of this week. And it’s about one of those small things. If you didn’t believe that, we wouldn’t be together. Never ask anyone to choose between their furry and, well you. Again you know this and with B, My Love; “He’s My Son.”

Baby girl with you, children, the family, the life we’ve built, I ain’t fucking leaving. Insanity. But I can’t wear my cape today. I’m not going to pick up some smokes; I can’t stand smokers. I’m not much of a drinker. As much as I should pound back several bottles. Please, I need to feel this. Christians say I need to take up my cross and follow him. My son. I always found that funny. Do you think Jesus would want to remember his death? Braxton wouldn’t want me to remember him this way. Hell, it’s not even the day yet, January 31st. I don’t know if I’ll have anything to say then or the day after. But it was him and me that day.

So you can’t have my back on this one, Baby Doll. I’m not pushing you away, but I must stand alone on this one. I don’t know what I’ll do; Monday the 31st and Tuesday, Feb 1st. Grieving? Sure, but my love isn’t going anywhere. When I looked at Braxton on the day, I don’t remember if I asked him to stay or go. Braxton fought so hard. Did I have Braxton’s back? You have mine, and I have yours always and forever. This week I should remember. Braxton and I would sleep back to back sometimes. Somehow or another, taking turns being close to the door. How he would guard me during naps. Sitting on my shoulder. All our comfy spots together. Love never leaves. Will Love B Back

Gospel 208 ~Collective Madness Is Called Sanity~

359 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

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I’ve breathed in worse than the Day Job bathroom. The germs of 99.9 of people I know. B’s aunt is an exception. Mourning her family’s loss of their beloved Dobby. Sometimes I wish I could stop altogether, but B’s favorite game. Breathe In, B Out

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, I always say. Today (Sunday), ahem, when it rains, it pours. My condolences to Carolina’s, Dobby.

I know, I’ve talked about “The Long Walk” before. Not the book so much as the concept. Sorry, Stephen King. Sorry, Aunt Carolina. How about sorry to the veterinarians? B? Should I include you as well, Echo? As I’m sure, I’ve told this story. Hmm. We’ll work up to B III. I don’t know how old I was, but it was on an Emergence Day. In the cartoon Beetlejuice, there’s this character that goes, “What in tarhooties?” Only I said, “What in the Hell?” Next thing I know, I’m being pulled outside, but what was the worst part, Inspector? Breathe in, breathe out, and what? It damn sure ain’t living. I haven’t lived for… since losing Braxton; 353 Days when you see this Inspector Echo.

The death of a child. Honest Echo, I should have died with that Emergence, Inspector. Every day, stepping into school and it’s what I wish. I’m no killer. Somehow inevitable. Only the one I killed was in this house. B III called it his home. I’m worse than my Olds. And forgive my Republican tendencies once again, but going out is like a Death March. You know how I talk about the restrooms at the Day Job and how I can’t breathe in the stench. The whole damn place is like that. I can’t breathe, and then I beg to get out. Then, of course, I whine about being let back in. One of Braxton’s favorite games. The look on his face before the diagnosis.

Breathe in, breathe out. I know B was doing this. Because as I’ve been reading and as the song goes. Listen To Your Heart. Braxton told me, “Daddy, let’s go home.” If anything, I speak fluent Braxton. If I had only listened before, but no. Always breathe in, breathe out. It was my life, put one fucking foot in front of the other for those bastards at the Day Job. We were struggling to breathe but sitting together, laying together. The air up there B? Is it better, not as you need it. I don’t know how I keep doing it. I was a zombie. And no matter the horrors slurred, spitted, are shat I walk, I breathe. I killed Braxton. Breathe In, B Out.

Gospel 202 ~Sell You On Will~

353 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 201 ~A Paw From B~

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Let’s hear it for the boy; let’s give that boy a hand. I didn’t do that enough when B was alive and when it mattered, with these hands, yeah with these hands. I don’t need applause, as all he clapping in the world won’t bring him back. “A Paw From B”

Tuesday, January 18, 2022

Chronicle 201 ~A Paw From B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how did I do it. As the song goes, “with these hands, with these hands.”

It’s what I want to sing; it’s what I want to believe. I see hands clasped together praying. THEY say it’s in God’s hands. Into thy hands, I commit my spirit. Getting out of hand. You know I could go on like this for a while. And could go with touching you, my love, um. Is, always and forever outside of the realm of possibility? I wouldn’t blame Jesus, love. Believer? I continue to go back and forth. Yet I ask where his hand in all of this was, hmm? If I don’t give him, her, or It any of the blame, I’m not handing out credit either. But you? Baby girl, how long has it been since I asked for your hand? Just kidding.

A husband is in dangerous territory, not knowing that. The fact is I asked, and you gave. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t reached out and found you. And with our hands, together, you and I created… God, I count ten little fingers and ten little toes.

For the second time in my life, the third, fourth, even more. Feet don’t freak me out. Darling the first? Yeah, the first had me on the ground feeling the pavement and counting ten seconds. I had to make sure it was safe for my firstborn to walk. Again, while I go back and forth. The first had my hands clasped together, me on my knees praying. My hands couldn’t save Braxton. But his paws?

“Pa, father, Daddy, wake up,” B would say by stepping all over my head. And you wonder why when I take the kids to see the fur babies, my big concern is paws and nails. Pausing my life to know before you and them when there was no hand to hold. How they say, I found a paw Gospel 201 Legs, Breasts, There’s Always Chicken. B and me until the? Paws stopped moving; my Braxton left this world 352 Days ago. I look to my hands that signed the papers. My tears have surpassed all those days. Even last night, they found me I need that. Yet you say I Want To Hold Your Hand. I love you. Taught because of, A Paw From B

Gospel 201 ~Legs, Breasts, There’s Always Chicken~

352 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

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I wish I was a little bit taller. I wish I had wings. Hell, I should start playing “Far Cry 5” with that grappling hook instead of having dangerous thoughts. Quite painful, but I’m alive if I’m searching for tortilla chips. B A Head Taller.

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m sure I could afford lifts, one of those grab tools, people, my Braxton, right…

Today is Sunday (Time-Travel), but what happened was on Saturday. I talked about having an epiphany, a revelation. I won’t go all into that. Better you could ask my man in the mirror, Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of… Gospel 195 Nobody But Will’s Wife. Inspector, that’s what I’ve been doing these days. Reminiscing? No, that’s the wrong word. Reaching out for answers. And I want to say there is none, then Inspector, there’s truth. Anyway, let me start with Saturday at Walmart. My Ma made some Queso dip, and surprise, I’m out of chips. I ate hers, snacking. So the chips I want are on this high shelf. There are people. I can ignore the chips or reach and risk humiliating myself and so…

A person will choose physical harm to avoid mental anguish. I chose my mind over my body. I reached those damn chips because I didn’t want to know the shame of my failure. They’re all gonna laugh at you, but nobody did because I succeeded. But it hurt like Hell. Humiliations galore rule at the Day Job, but I continue to hurt myself there, Inspector. Dammit, I’m so tired this second, but I refuse any napping because of my mind Inspector. Physical pleasures Echo? I’m going out of my mind. Only let my flesh suffer, Inspector. Then there’s death. Ok, dangerous words always. Unhealthy grief? I’ve had 346 Days of it. I’m surprised I haven’t drowned in it. Between refilling Braxton’s water bowl. My tears, several releases, but no blood.

That leads me back into the mental or the physical. Again, every day I refill his water. I place his treats on the table. Echo, that’s what I hear my voice do when I call him for meds. When I tell him hello and goodbye. I set up his gates, move his bed, everything. I put myself through the physical task to avoid the humiliating truth. I failed Braxton. Fuck me, don’t sugarcoat it; I killed B III. My son, my best friend, is dead because of me, Echo. That is my failure and my disgrace, and I wish I had fallen from that damn shelf for chips. Let me drown in wasted water. Never do Onlyfans again. To die, I’d B A Head Taller.

346 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 194 ~Love B Hard Sometimes~

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You give out hope like it’s candy in your pocket. Well, no, I could give you the meaning of life pretty easily. The concept of love? Now that’s something you don’t keep in your pocket. B gives it out always. But for 345 Days. “Love B Hard Sometimes.”

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

Chronicle 194 ~Love B Hard Sometimes~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, more like we are, and thank goodness. Love to my Olds is not being thrown out.

I swear that’s why I stay away from them. Being who I am, being me, well, that’s subject to debate. How do “THEY,” say, you’re lucky I love you? Because I don’t like you not one little bit. Speaking of a little bit, of course, you know I will talk about my B III. Braxton taught me all about love. Well, B III and Chris Rock. Defining what love is? Always ahem the want, need, desire, to put another above oneself. That’s why I’ve never agreed that you need to love yourself to love another. Of course, I would love to love me. One more reason I stay far from my Olds. I grew up to this. I was a duty, obligation, a hated job.

Thirty-seven right? Love is like books and writing to me. It’s a thirst, My Love. They have that word right and wrong. I want more; oh God, help me, and not only boobs, um yep. Hell, look at Braxton? He didn’t have any boobs even though he wanted to claim his aunt’s. But from the moment I laid eyes on him… Talk about we found love in a hopeless place. My life became that of his, loving myself to love him from that moment. Now some way, that’s what killed him as well. It was my indifference when love itself became routine. I have it wrong… it’s not love being hard; it was life. At the same time, my obsession led to his passing away.

You’re the first woman, My Love, that didn’t find my obsession; oh, what’s the words? Creepy, stalkerish, perverted, the list goes on. I don’t love pizza because I don’t know everything about it. I don’t love my phone… Would I die for it? Obsession, knowledge. People say they love, but how much do they know? Unconditional love, as in without condition, you have to know everything. You and Braxton know everything of what I am. And that’s why love is hard sometimes. It’s learning, it’s understanding, it’s growing. We learn about our children; we learn about each other. And to realize that my child, my firstborn, is dying and love, every want, need, and desire can’t save him. What Is Love? Love B Hard Sometimes

345 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

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Surprise, I’m still alive, but I’ve been saying that since I bought cheap sleeping pills. I can’t take aspirin anymore, but who knows. Does a liver recover? More concerned about my heart and wallet. Braxton was my constant. No Surprise, It’s A B

Wednesday, January 5, 2022

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but no, I don’t have a new best friend. Well, how do I know with Time-Travel?

I didn’t know I’d try “adulting” and pay my own way for once. I gave my Ma a 50 Echo. Um, Echo, that put me in a bad way with finances, so I could be starving this week, but no. Then I got reimbursed for my eye exam, so that’s $138.00 Inspector Echo. Hell, I didn’t know I would start this year pissing off another woman. Icky choice of words. Anyway, I saved $10.00 not having to pay Maitland Ward. Capital A had me in a bad way. I’m upset I won’t see Cherry in a particular light again. Making women happy Inspector Echo? You know that’s my thing, ha. And let’s not talk about the Basic Bitch. It is a New Year, right. Surprise!

I’m still alive as the song goes, but Braxton is not. After all the bangs, booms, and blasts from last night. Again I’m back in time; today is January 1, 2022. B III didn’t have a heart attack this time last year; he wasn’t hit with anything. Dear God, I looked it up for sure. Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~ I don’t want to read it. Then there’s the book I picked out today. Christmas is done, and I didn’t know where the Hell I was before, during, after Braxton. It was routine, and now as always, I’m a day late and a dollar short with his death. My first book this New Year, “My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do?” Surprise, Surprise!

Bucks, Babes, my Boy all coming and going this way and that. It’s like I’m always screaming at the TV, tell me something I don’t know. A moneyed white dude gets away with anything and everything again, inevitable. Enough past talk, future is coming on. Which, of course, is why I’m talking to you this Saturday, E. Day Job, Humiliations Galore. Besides getting reimbursed or my Ma stopping by, the future is always worse. That’s a sin I can report to you today. I knocked off speaking positivity into my life from my New Year’s Resolutions. Now that would be something if I could keep them. I’d settle for having a good day. In school, a D was acceptable. In life, Surprise, It’s A B.

Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~
Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~

339 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 187 ~Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B~

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It was only a kiss, yet I’d argue with B every morning. I know where his mouth has been. He didn’t seem to mind when I would kiss the top of his head. But he must have thought humans are weird. Well, kissing shuts humans up. “Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B”

Tuesday, January 4, 2022

Chronicle 187 ~Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, well, more like we are. Only mouths are better for other things. A kiss, Baby Girl.

You know I am some kinda way about my Olds, but if I remember anything good. Well, it was the fact that they always kissed each other goodbye before departing. An idea I’m hoping to continue with you despite what’s going on with me. Right now, it’s B, My Love. A New Year’s Kiss. Excuse me for being crass, well no, because I know you instead like me this way. Anyway, if I’m going to be kissing something HAIRY. It would be the top of B’s head. That’s another first; I couldn’t do that this year and never again. Tomorrow? Baby Doll, I keep thinking that. Denial is not just a river in Egypt. 338 Days of him not sitting on my head, My Love.

Sure, you sitting on my face is great and all. As I said, it’s been a while, and you know your man. If I wanted to get in trouble with you, why don’t you ask if I remember our first kiss? Don’t ever want to experience our last kiss. Now Braxton’s… Sunday, January 31, 2021. My firstborn got me more than prepared for our children crawling all over us. Death by kisses “What A Heavenly Way To Die” My Love. A thousand sweet kisses, “I’ll Cover You,” and our family. Yeah, I know Spotify again, remembering days, fucking Day Job. As I said, there are such things we can do with our mouths. Singing, hell, I should try again before saying something STUPID. But B…

Looks like crying every day over B isn’t changing in this new year. When I had to talk to the vet. And I gave her permission. Talking to a woman, and that’s what I do. Asshole! Braxton saw me as such, or was I still only his Daddy who wouldn’t take him home. The man that was going to let the vet and her assistant do these things. Explain Daddy, right? All I could do was hold him and kiss the top of his furry little head. I love you, I’m sorry, goodbye? If a kiss is good for anything, it shuts me up. It stops us from thinking love. Ha thinking before like Gospel 187 ~Panic Does Not Serve You~. Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B

Gospel 187 ~Panic Does Not Serve You~

338 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will