Tag: Hurt

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 020 ~B, Wear The Sandman~

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We don’t stop when we’re tired. We stop when we’re done. B III was tired, but I was the one who told him when he was done. And now 171 Days… I need only look at my old computer “desk” lined with treats what have I done. B, Wear The Sandman.

Wednesday, July 21, 2021

Chronicle 020 ~B, Wear The Sandman~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I’m going to stay awake… All you need do is tell me B III’s sick what would I do.

My Lazy Ass should be criminalized. If not today, then indeed Tuesday, January 26, 2021. The day before, I saw anything that B III had five days left. Now here I am arriving early, Time-Travel Echo. You know what that means; the Day Job is kicking my ass yet again. Well, not really. You should have seen me yesterday; I do mean Monday. When it comes to the Day Job, no problem. While I was fixing dinner, I decided to work on “Stuff And Thangs.” Oh, how easy was that. Yet when it came to talking about my boy, Braxton. “Dammit, vaccines” is something I want to say. Should I have warned Carolina Bound before she took the plunge? Hell, it’s not the COVID vaccine.

Some motivations were talking about how a man will come up with an excuse. I’m starting to worry that I won’t finish B III’s Novel before the end of the month, surprise surprise. I’m An Asshole, as the song goes. I’m Fucking up Six Impossible Things always and forever, yep. What madness is it that I have the Day Job which I hate? I talk to you and the girls, but nobody sees. I share my naughty bits, and Maitland Ward did subscribe um woohoo! But the one thing that matters, like when B III lived, I throw it to the wayside. My god Echo. Who’s the one who should R.I.P. If it was between Braxton and me? We both know the answer to that.

I Don’t Fear The Reaper Inspector Echo. Braxton was on the lookout for him, too, while guarding the door. In the novel, I keep talking about “My Turn.” When Braxton was asleep, I was looking out for him. I shared because Braxton never gave me less than his whole heart. Even when it was barely beating, B walked to his water. He went under the bed because he knew I was worrying over him. He crawled into my lap because he knew I needed him. And if we had walked out of that office, my B III would’ve always come running. These days though, as the song goes, the dreams in which I’m dying. I wish I could tell Braxton this. B, Wear The Sandman

171 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 013 ~Could Use Braxton’s Battery~

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Isn’t it only women that worry about how they look sleeping? I’m too tired to worry about being sexist or not even being as WOKE as I am. Anyway, no one could ever sleep as cute as B III. Now that’s sad, considering… Could Use Braxton’s Battery.

Wednesday, July 14, 2021

Chronicle 013 ~Could Use Braxton’s Battery~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but if I were back then, I would have had eyes on Braxton 24/7, 365 easy.

I’m sorry most of my pictures are of Braxton sleeping. It took me seeing him die for five days to keep up with him. Even then, he would not tolerate me making things easier for him. I still see him, my Baby B, getting up on his own four legs going to his water bowl. It was like in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine 4×26 “Broken Link.” Odo was ill and could barely walk, but he went out like a man, in front of everyone, fighting for every step, yep. How about Best of the Best, when Alex dislocated his shoulder and somehow got back in the ring, fought, and won. B III would have kept fighting for life if I had brought him home.

I wish I could say that watching YouTube or movies like Men of Honor is what I’ve been doing. Oh yeah, Inspector Echo, my time is so precious that I sleep the days away, ok. Yeah, I’m usually unconscious as I lie here in my bed, getting a faint whiff of B even after 164 Days. One day the smell will disappear, and what will I do, Inspector? No recharge? Speaking of which, I have another excuse for you. For two days straight, I’ve been trying to fix the car with my father. The first day cost me my NaNoWriMo daily badge. Yesterday I didn’t work at all. I threw in B III’s letters giving me 10,000 words. I’m behind. So I’m failing my son.

Now, this isn’t new. There’s Braxton, my second best friend, my third best friend, “Stuff And Thangs,” my father. I’m treating this like I’m some heroic survivor in the Andes. The only person I’m eating is my future self. I lack energy for any sexiness. I’m so thankful, but I’m also lying knowing that when the mood strikes me like any film, novel, or song. Hell, that’s the problem; who’s watching or listening to me other than Braxton from wherever. Inspector Echo, will I always hate looking in mirrors? The way Braxton saw me and would run over my head with his paws if I didn’t get up on time. Triple B was my life. But to give that up writing? Could Use Braxton’s Battery

164 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 006 ~Bleep, Blah, But Braxton~

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I look at myself in the mirror when I can stand it, and I want to scream, “Shut The Eff Up.” The good news is, that’s not often. I have no qualms about my body, but my face is a whole other story. Braxton had a cute face. “Bleep, Blah, But Braxton.”

Wednesday, July 7, 2021

Chronicle 006 ~Bleep, Blah, But Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and with that amount of money, hmm. I’d get my teeth fixed or just shut up.

Living was so much easier when I was apologizing to Braxton. We’re on day 157, and I haven’t stopped seeking forgiveness. Oh, I learned my lesson, Braxton; my boy’s gone. I’ve been thinking about all the apologies I owe, and I’m not like the former president. All this morning, it was fuck this, fuck that, and with everything I got going on these days. It’s how the THEY say, I’ve got no fucks left to give. Everything I have, all that I am, should be going into B’s novel, and already I’m way behind. I’ve got all this time, Inspector. Of course, this morning, I spent it gaming and on “Stuff & Thangs.” Hell, I didn’t even post, and I fucked-up again. After three days

I did write about 2,000 words, but it’s more of the same I’ve been spouting for, yes 157 Days. I’m starting to feel less like Charlie Brown and more like one of the adults, “waah.” So besides breaking my streak of, you know what, I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut. I’m talking to myself again, which is even sadder because I could at least preach at B III. No, I’m not moving towards that most dreaded word, even worse than STUPID. The big A Inspector Echo… ACCEPTANCE. Never, I say again, never. I keep crying and laying treats, hating myself even more now with all this free time I have going doing nothing. Well, of course, failing, but that’s more of my blah.

Then there’s Saturday, where if I’m lucky, my second vaccine dose may finally kill me. That’s not a joke Inspector Echo. You know me, I love my mask and hate my big mouth. As the song goes, “Hey Jealousy.” Do you remember Cherry? Well, she’s got a podcast. What oh what have been my accomplishments, I ask. A few novels for NaNoWriMo, uh, all unpublished? I have a job I hate and everything else I do to make money, well, have I made any ever? Braxton, being his father, and of course, we know how that ended. So for Saturday… Somehow if I don’t die, I’m having lunch with Braxton’s aunt, Carolina Bound. What shall we talk about? Yeah, I’m sorry, Bleep, Blah, But Braxton.

157 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 364 ~Better B Next Month~

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It’s strange when I have to start a new pile of treats. Five piles for five months since Braxton “went away.” February to June, and what have I accomplished. What am I fixin’ to do as I couldn’t fix him with four years of writing? Better B Next Month

Wednesday, June 30, 2021

Gospel 364 ~Better B Next Month~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… yeah, and what year was it I was listening to all those motivations? A Million-dollar year

If I had done so, would B be alive? Now that’s the type of question that plagues me every morning. Another would have to be, am I even going to get up and try to do something with my life. Why am I going to the Day Job when I fucking hate everyone there, Echo? B, B, and oh yeah, B. When I was young, I remember seeing this somewhere. You should pick C when you don’t know the answer for any multiple choice. So here I am saying FML, am I right? As I finally did get up and I honored my son, I saw five months have passed. Honoring Braxton, what have I done, Inspector Echo? It’s like “Last Christmas” all over again.

B’s become an errand on my to-do list. Wasn’t he always but back then, I was an A-Hole, now THEY would only call me mad. Either way, I can’t stop even after these five months. Hell, I’ve been more dedicated than when B III was here. Those last few days, on top of being sick and tired of dying, he felt the same way about me, my running behind him. I’ve had plenty of girls accuse me of being obsessive, stalkerish, scary. I was the damn Grim Reaper when it came to Braxton. You know my biggest problem Inspector, TIME. I think I have all the time in the world and when I get time, like two whole days, what do I do with them.

“Just one more year, and then you’d be happy,” as the song goes. How long have I been writing with only this blog? Five years Inspector Echo, five years starting Friday. All that time, I was telling B I would give him everything. How much time with him I wasted? Braxton didn’t live to see February, his sweet sixteen, and all the money when he wanted time. Dammit, I selfishly tried to make up for it with five days when he couldn’t do anything. Well, hiding from the Reaper, showing him with love that he was going to die soon. From Six Impossible Things to a brand new year of writing. What will I do, when will I do it, Echo? Better B Next Month

150 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 357 ~Be The Needle B~

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My arm hurts like Hell and then gets itchy. The thing is, I’m Still Standing, as the song goes. The last needles I saw before the one I got… They were for Braxton, and look how that turned out. Be The Needle B. Too bad mine are making me better?

Wednesday, June 23, 2021

Gospel 357 ~Be The Needle B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I guess I’ll grow a business acumen at some point. I rather raise Braxton.

B III made it to fifteen though I was putting my money on twenty. Hell, who am I kidding? If I had the money I strive for, I would have been figuring out a way for Braxton to outlive me at least. I hope the government ain’t lying about the price tag of a FREE Vaccine. So am I going to spend the whole week talking about getting it? As the song goes, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” I focused so much on myself 143 Days ago. As you and everyone else knows, I love my son, and I try to talk about the good times, ok. I think enough songs have hinted that love hurts sometimes. But Braxton, he loved me.

I’m sure he didn’t like me all those times I laughed at him at Banfield. It’s the same story you’ve heard a million times. “Are you going to walk in like a man, or do I have to carry you?” Every time, I was freaking out, being honest. Geez, I wonder how my Olds felt. Braxton was going there to get better, to get stitched up. How many of us like needles, Inspector Echo? Unlike the sewing kits I found in cookie tins, I always knew each needle B III felt had a good purpose. I’d see the candles, the picture frame’s message, but Braxton. The point of a pen, my fingers, the red bandage around his leg. There were three needles Inspector, 1, 2…

That’s what they say I need Inspector Echo to survive. I get two doses of the Vaccine, and then I can ditch the mask. My mask? There’s dog hair, my hoodies, anything with NaNoWriMo, and then the masks when it comes to the things I wear. I’m losing all my shields. The cloth that came with Braxton’s remains; I haven’t looked in that box again since the day he came home. There’s no treat in there, only what was once my best friend. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men as THEY say. Braxton’s hair around here fades. Today “Saturday,” I sat there as they made sure I didn’t die but if I had. I wouldn’t mind; I’ve said, Be The Needle B.

143 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 350 ~Be Free Of Cures~

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I wasn’t sick this week or the last, but I sure did stay in bed. Only I don’t need a doctor. More like I need my dog back. Another Father’s Day approaches, and here I am without my son. Be Free Of Cures because I’m already dying

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

Gospel 350 ~Be Free Of Cures~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and ignoring the obvious Ha-Ha, as the song goes, I Want A New Drug. Today… doubtful

Am I a prick for not remembering my “father’s” birthday? I know Father’s Day is on the 20th (shudders). I’m not looking forward to it. Do I have to say something, Inspector Echo? That’s only one of the many things needling at my brain today. But I’m out of bed.
Why, when I need another mental health day or several. I think I asked sometime this week, am I going to waste these next few days. If I said, I would ask a Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting “Son,” Prince of Peace. What’d you think? Obviously, I know my Bible Inspector, that’s Isaiah 9:6. Again I’m not turning towards faith. To quote more wisdom, I’m “Losing My Religion.” I lost my God, Good Boy, Greed…

Which, of course, explains that $150.00 I put in my bank account yesterday and why? I was worshipping some incredible Yabbos that are no longer talking to me. I was breaking Inspector Echo. Maitland Ward had me, and then with restraint ok hesitation… I stopped.
Well, she did, and am I ever going to learn that women aren’t the answer? I’ve been talking to M Anime and Indiana Gone, but I still remember January 31th. Indiana Gone asked what she could do, and I said, “I want my best friend back. No bucks, boobs, behavior. There’s nothing that will bring B III back to me or make the hurt go away. For a few seconds, I lose myself and feel a greater shame about something.

Which should be instead of more porn, I should get stuck. The vaccine is free and is continuing poking at me to go and get it. Today’s the day… again, I don’t think so. The masks won’t last forever, but I continue to pretend. Shall I quote Bob Marley? Three Little Birds singing, “Don’t worry about a thing. ’Cause every little thing gonna be all right.” Only it hasn’t been for 136 Days. I look at them as we approach another year down. I see Father’s Day, and here I am without my son. My Charge, my Comfort, and my Cure, to the viciousness, vitriol, and virus called Life. Is that why I’m avoiding my health? There’s no cure for death. Be Free Of Cures

136 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 255 ~This “H” For Braxton~

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While my heart remains broken, you’ll be surprised what Anger can heal. Why won’t people allow me my Denial instead of driving me into Anger? Heroes don’t bury their children but their parents. My OLDS are fine, but for now. This “H” For Braxton

Saturday, March 13, 2021

Gospel 255 ~This “H” For Braxton~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can’t recognize myself anymore. Plenty of people are telling me who I am.

Hulk as in The Hulk, which I turned into yesterday morning. It seems the more I try to live in my Denial that Braxton Is Dead. People are dedicated to shoving me into Anger. Were you ever having a moment of silence, Luna and the phone rings with bad news? I’m a man of routine, and there I am saying, “Good Morning Braxton, I miss you,” and the Day Job calls telling me I’m missing work. I yelled over the phone, and less than an hour later, I’m shouting at two women at work. If B III had been here, would I have cared, hmm? Not that I’m angry at him, nor at vets. It’s starting with me and then the rest of the world.

Hunk of burning love, made into a hellish rage. The hackers, the scammers, and who else? I’m sure people aren’t joining “my” Facebook Group because I’m handsome or an incredible writer. No, my dear Braxton “IS” the cute one. He allowed me to write constantly. Still, M Anime said I have a nice smile, and she likes it when I smile. Of course, it was with a picture of Braxton. Don’t women love guys in uniform or with their kids? My hoodies don’t count, and without Braxton, I mean damn.

I don’t smile much anymore and without masks… Lady Luna, I haven’t been thinking much about women, to be honest. Dare I say I’ve become asexual at this point. The life and family I pictured, Braxton, won’t meet or love.

Hercules, I am not. Now, didn’t Hercules kill his family? Kratos did as well and wore their ashes. Well, aren’t I wearing a pendant with some of Braxton’s “remains?” Great minds, right, considering I spent yesterday night reading in the blackness. It was all about Jacob and making demon lords. I’m about to piss off many REAL parents, but have you ever heard “the smallest coffins are the heaviest to carry”? I don’t know how I did it, Lady Lu and I could never do it again; it’s too much. But that hasn’t stopped me from looking up Deer Head Chihuahuas now has it, Lu. Would I instead make myself Sisyphus or be the Hulk, a hunk, or Hercules, no.

Let me hurt rather than hate. This H For Braxton

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 083 ~When Will Is Enough~

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The will to succeed and to love; if only I believe and as Whitney Houston sang, “I believe in you and me. However, these days I’m more for Whitney Wright. Only she’s not the one that cost me everything. “When Will Is Enough,” because that’s all I got

Tuesday, September 22, 2020

Gospel 083 ~When Will Is Enough~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Because I studied great men like Dennis Hof, Hugh Hefner, Larry Flynt, among others. Now, what was it I said about listening to old white men? Well, Baby Doll, I’m not trying to be president, and if what I do hasn’t got you running now? Anyway, you know I’ve been having a hard time as of late. One of my places got shut down; girls, guys, green of those dollars. I remain a traditionalist. A man provides, and if he can’t, then why does he have a family, to begin with.

I think back to my second best friend’s wedding. I remember the preacher man saying, this guy is terrific, but he isn’t Jesus. He said that my friend, the bride, is fantastic, but she isn’t Jesus. Now you know I have to sing, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” Entertaining, am I not? I guess I’m better in book form. The will to plop down and write a story, and for what or who? It’s better now that I am a success and then something like this goes and… it hurts My Love. It’s like a physical blow that somehow hits the soul too. You know how I am with touch, and my Dæmon suffers. Having someone you love (his grandfather) kick him four feet is enough to make anybody jumpy. A bad joke but this all feels like one lousy joke, you know.

Those incredible men I mentioned above did other things. That’s before getting into the lifestyle. I am who I am. Only to this day, I will tell anybody, I’m a bad man. I suppose my mother would be ashamed of me, and yet Baby Girl, you’re still here, you’re not leaving. Everything is ripped away, and it’s not the end of the world. Dennis Hof did his homework on Dale Carnegie. Great men are made by other great men. They all had the will to keep going despite hard times, hateful people, hits that put Flynt in a wheelchair. “Cause your love is my love, And my love is your love.” How about “Love is all you need.” A woman like you heals my soul and my body. I want it to be enough, which is probably why… That’s a conversation for another time, hmm.

It worked for Christian Grey, but When Will Is Enough.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 325 ~The Way Up Will~

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As Aerosmith once put it, “Love in an Elevator,” now that’s something to put on a “certain” list though I’m sure my collection has a few examples of it. If I want it to happen, though, I should get a few other things up first. “The Way Up Will.”

Thursday, May 21, 2020

Log 325 ~The Way Up Will~

WARNING, 18+, READER DISCRETION ADVISED

Come In Dirty Diana,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and even more if I start thinking with the big head instead of the little one. Well, I’m here, aren’t I? It’s Sunday, and I’ve traveled four days into the future. Yes, I hate the Day Job, my dick is up more often than me, but damn there’s always boobs.

Boobalicious/Milk Junkies, what I would give to be so creative, to touch, to feel. No Dirty Diana, the name of the game these days is profit. Hell, I’ve been all over Onlyfans these days, but I only talk to boobs I “know.” I’m still on the concept that a woman has to aim higher with me. My brain, the beat of my heart, someone who makes me want to surrender my bucks. Speaking of which, if I wasn’t so busy trying to sell books, I would want to review hentai. Wasn’t I talking about going all body-wise myself when it came to Onlyfans last week? The things a lack of Fapping leads to, but again being Sunday, I’m still going strong at eleven days. I didn’t even break out my Fleshlight yesterday. You know I get all into sex toys and “stranger” fetishes of mine.

Now I don’t mean the “Boobless Wonder” Anna Vlasova, aka Alissa or Rebecca from MarvelCharm. It doesn’t bother me at all, only you know that I can name other models, of course. I’ve even gone back to MILF Dos a time or two, and you know she has an impressive set. She’s a good girl, a good woman I should say and wasn’t I talking about holy women and kimonos last week. So what gets me higher than that Dirty Diana or more to the point who. The mind reels.

Some time ago it was trains and buses and now Love in an Elevator. Kininaru Kimochi 1-3 but the fourth one? I guess someone got bored, but I will never get tired of TITS. I could sit here today for hours telling you every single movie. From “Debbie Does Dallas” to the Discipline series. Using sex to make money is not a hard concept… okay, I did not just say that Dirty Diana. My point is even Think and Grow Rich, talks about harnessing the sex instinct. On top of doing what you love, motivations.

So where am I going, what’s The Way Up Will.

I Will Have No Fear