Saga 023 ~To B This Empty~

My novel with B is halfway full, but my head is half empty. That’s a lie because what am I filling the other half with. Furbabies, forgetting about the Day Job (or trying to. And how effed up I am or my friends talking about it. Only To B This Empty.

Sunday, July 24, 2022

Saga 023 ~To B This Empty~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning full of cash. What are you full of? Which monsters nurture your fear. Your mourning? Monday.

For all, that’s begun filling up this week. You know you’re empty of all the good in the world. And as I said yesterday, it starts with Braxton. Do you even have a container? I mean, a heart? No, that remains broken. A Republican ideology, harden all you know. Harden… Giggity, and you will get to that. Don’t have the power to resist temptation. Anyway, while you’re on the subject of power, should we talk about the phone battery. There’s the laptop battery that was ready to give you a heart attack? Pathetic! Hopeless! Now you can blame me for the fridge not being as full as it should be. So I’m no better. Yet if you want fullness, look at Little B’s yard today.

  1. I WILL BE Finishing, Blackout: A Thriller, Erin Flanagan
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Staying Ahead Of Camp NaNoWriMo
    Completed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 003 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Oh no! Ignore your son and go look at some Yabbos, right? When I looked at those addiction books yesterday and read about the symptoms. There are three things. Financial pain. How much do you pay for subscriber-wise or anything with sex, hmm? Then there’s the Day Job. This is more a confession for Echo. Jerking off before leaving. Then there’s family and friends. Besides, the indifference to this existence. That was a direct cause of Triple B’s death. Too much XXX while ignoring him. There are other friends. One immediately gives me a hard-on whenever she messages. Then there’s the one you were messaging this morning. You have all the respect in the world for women, but such horrific stories are actual turn-ons. Fuck!

  1. I WILL BE Finishing, The Power of Pets: 7 Effective Tools To Heal From…
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Staying Ahead Of Camp NaNoWriMo
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Speaking of your hands being empty of your tallywhacker, or so you hope. (Sex brings such colorful language). What about Six Impossible Things? If that isn’t one book fail, ha. You continue to think about Blackout: A Thriller. For everything, it was about. It’s the thing that’s keeping you so grounded in fighting addiction. (cough) for three days (cough). Yeah right. And now you want to fill your mind with more pets dead and dying. Doesn’t it beat sex, though? Well, in America. Death is always more acceptable than sex. Anyway, it’s why you’re not reading erotica. Um… Succubus Lord audiobooks… Ten was my favorite, so you know. It’s a balancing act, being half full, half empty. That’s existence, that’s real. To B This Empty

539 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 268 ~Ode To B Yesterday~

I know who The Beetles are, but that was way before my time. Yesterday I was nowhere near. I have had 418 yesterdays without my boy, and I’m looking forward to this 419th one being over. I won’t be anyway near as productive. “Ode To B Yesterday”

Saturday, March 26, 2022

Chronicle 268 ~Ode To B Yesterday~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which should give me plenty to write about. Don’t worry, though. None of it is poetry.

In fact, I was telling Braxton yesterday (via Time Travel) I should publish “Gulp” poetry. Oh, before his book? If I was a better man going on some 419 days, I wouldn’t have to yet. I swear my tears over my son are always better than those for having to wake up in the morning. My piddly ass existence. Already, today will be nowhere as productive. And as for next week… Even today, I can’t pick out any day ending in Y that I look forward to, Lady Lunalesca. But not one of them can be “Another Day,” ever. That wanting, laziness, and indifference led to my son’s death over a year ago. Hell 419 days of not joining him. And I should, Lady Lu.

But I get up, and instead of working in the den. It’s where I planted all my stuff. Even better, yesterday when I made it to the dining room. No, I climb right back into bed, struggling. The thoughts are creeping in that I should stay here today. It’s not like the “Rebeccas” would miss me. My last paycheck means I’ll be eating into my tax refund more. There’s always more soup and pizza rolls. I can scrounge up one more BLT minus the “T,” ha. And as for “Spilling the Tea,” as THEY say, I know this is all my fault. You would think that my hatred for the Day Job. Which led to the indifference which killed B. I’d work harder than ever.

I don’t mean at the Day Job but at doing anything in my power to avoid ever stepping foot inside that place again. All my yesterdays add up to the tomorrow of being in that Hell. Unless I get lucky enough to drop dead. I’ve been speaking of doctors, hmm. How about publishers, like the one I paid years ago to do nothing. Writing failure. Lunalesca, I haven’t sent them the final copy, so again my fault. I’m constantly failing. In truth, it’s a fact I’m not closing. I look at women and every other want, but you know what pains me? Seeing the words I wrote go to waste like yesterday. And no, I’m not like the Beetles. Yesterday, whatever. Ode To B Yesterday.

419 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 180 ~A Year To B~

15, B would have been 16. I made it to 37, and I’ll be 38, 39, 40, oh no? The eighties suck, and people talk a lot about 2020, but 2021 was the worst year of my life. How I survived without my boy. And do you see any family around here? “A Year To B”

Tuesday, December 28, 2021

Chronicle 180 ~A Year To B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what else is there to look forward to? My indifference is what got Braxton killed.

The man that has everything but his best friend… As long as Braxton’s been gone and as long as we’ve been together. “Oh, baby, I love you, just leave me the fuck alone,” as the song plays. Which you did, considering what time I woke up this morning. Fucking up? Baby Doll, I know I am, even worse than the plague year. I went back over Gospel 177 ~It’s Christmas, Willie B~ last year at Christmas. To think we could survive the pandemic but this? This year has been the worse of my entire life. Beating out the eighties, wow. Baby girl, of course, that has nothing to do with you. You’ve been here, but as for me. Hell, I’m still stuck in seven days.

A year to a dog is seven years, or so THEY guess. How many years does that make 331 Days? You know I suck at Math, Music, Making Love? When’s the last time Baby Doll? It’s four days until the new year, and I don’t know where to begin. I’ll be 38. That’s next E-Day. Will I see Braxton’s Aunt before the new year? I say I’m a billionaire, however… Yeah, I can’t hear B III. You’ve been trying, screaming, crying, you love me. Besides “Don’t Look Up,” there have been soundtracks. Just Look Up, Memento Mori, Fourth of July. Ironic, the Fourth of July, the noise. And the same will be heard for new year’s. Will you still be here for me, My Love?

I wouldn’t blame you. I’ve told you the tale of how I was planning on taking my own life years ago. I say planning because I was only starving myself. Braxton saved my life, and I knew he needed me, so I would always say, I’ll be back. Fucking Terminator. Anyway, I made you the same promise, Always and Forever. With all the family that turned their backs on me, why would I ever want to be them? Yet this whole year with Braxton being gone. Sunday, January 31, 2021. It’s been all him. Come the first, I have no resolutions as yet. I’m not going anywhere, neither is B, but how about you. A year of beginnings, books, baby, brats, A Year To B.

331 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Episode 085 ~Anger Burns Hotter Than Lust~

Too many sad friends to give into my misery, and trying to start this new week out of bed if I’m lucky but waiting to go to work and then after, my dose of the rage virus it seems, Anger Burns Hotter Than Lust.

Monday, September 24, 2018

Episode 085 ~Anger Burns Hotter Than Lust~

Fifty-First Rule Madam Justice

How to make One Million Dollars, I wish those ideas came as fast as things I’m mad at or how quickly I get hard, though I didn’t wake up with Morning Wood, no I woke up angry that every other part of me had to get up. I read somewhere that couples shouldn’t go to bed angry, and most nights I’m not sure how I feel, though I usually tell myself stories, I go over games in my head, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time maybe Detroit: Become Human.

Back when I had a full-time school schedule, though I remember a pretty girl here, or there it is the rage I embraced the most, and now, hell I can be angry that I don’t have time for gaming, the money for it, that I don’t have a pretty girl like North, Kara, or Chloe. I’m mad that already I feel sick and what did I do wrong, I woke up right when I wanted to, ate breakfast, I’m even talking to you this morning so why should I be in pain. How about the fact that I can’t have hope, no I’m afraid which only means I need more anger to fuel me because when I get to the day job, what happens then?

Wouldn’t indifference be worse, I either want your head on a stick or your head on a… yeah it’s easier to talk about hate as always, people more often than not prefer my misery and they want it with me smiling. Me and my dumbass smile, THIS I CANNOT DO (anymore) I mean, so either I’m a pervert, a psycho, but never a person and strangely enough that makes me mad because do I honestly want to be like any person I know nowadays. Everyone I like is suffering, the man I am, I still hate, which goes perfectly with hating the majority of human beings so yes indeed I enjoy looking at beautiful things.

The Beautiful People, maybe that’s why I want anger because I want to feel something other than anything to be ashamed of right; being mad makes me damn well normal but pictures of bodies one way or another gets you kicked off Pinterest but not today. For now, I’m angry that this day isn’t going as planned but I am in more control dear Madam Justice, surprisingly this rage and Anger Burns Hotter Than Lust.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 233 ~What’s Worse Than Hate, Indifference~

I’m a lot of things, to a few I am even a man if not The Man, and those few times I look in the mirror or how I feel, I know it. Only humans can be so annoying, we can be loved and hated but what’s worse hmm? What’s Worse Than Hate, Indifference

Monday, February 19, 2018

Lesson 233 ~What’s Worse Than Hate, Indifference~

Twentieth Rule Madam Justice,

I Am Not Afraid Anymore though time has passed since I was fear itself; when I was in school my slogan was, the best thing to have is love, if not then be liked, at least be respected, barring that be invisible, and if all else fails, be feared. Another day, another school shooting, well a few days ago so maybe I shouldn’t knock hate, at least hatred makes sense or insanity but to just not matter, to cease to be, that’s indifference, that’s Hell.

“You don’t think I’m ordinary?”

“You couldn’t be ordinary if you tried.”

“Thank you. I don’t think there’s anything worse than being ordinary.” American Beauty

Now how can anyone hate words, but “interesting” I find lazy but “whatever,” is the worst just edging out “just kidding” because whatever to me eliminates an idea? Yes I know I’m guilty of using all three but the last time I used all of the above I still talk to the person daily, like, love, and hate can be the most exhausting things ever. What about silence, at work my first amendment rights are being curtailed and telling people that you honestly don’t care, hell I don’t talk to my family and vice versa, but again I am exhausted.

Hating though is one thing, to hate means you once cared, even if it was a Luke Skywalker moment of wanting to kill Kylo Ren, but once there is nothing left to love, hate, or fear, you’re capable of doing the most monstrous of things. Better to feel too much than too little isn’t that what they say and that’s also the problem, people trying to tell each other how to feel. When you do that to someone they feel as though they’re not understood and when they aren’t being heard then what is the point of speaking at all?

Another reason I put such value in words, for someone that hates most people, thank goodness, I do see the importance of communication, as in my dog, but solitude is also a blessing. Hate can destroy but I think it’s the moment that we cease to care, a time when a person is seen not as a human being or less than what they are, and they know speaking, crying, screaming won’t help they are made indifferent and notably dangerous.

“Can’t even shout.
Can’t even cry.
The Gentlemen are coming by.
Looking in windows,
knocking on doors…
They need to take seven
and they might take yours…
Can’t call to mom.
Can’t say a word.
You’re gonna die screaming,
but you won’t be heard.” Hush

So love if you can, like, respect, and if somebody chooses to be invisible, take it as a blessing, because the moment everything is lost including hate, there is but indifference, and the return of fear and goodness knows I hate, lust, I feel shame. What’s Worse Than Hate, Indifference

“If you ever loved me, don’t rob me of my hate. It’s all I have.” The Count of Monte Cristo

I Will Have No Fear