Chronicle 288 ~Here B, Hear Puppy~

I wish I could identify the problem as dog slobber. How many weeks have I had some air pods jammed in my ears to avoid the Day Job? I’d give anything to hear my little boy again. And where will I be Saturday? “Here B, Hear Puppy.”

Friday, April 15, 2022

Chronicle 288 ~Here B, Hear Puppy~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now but is it because I’m smart or lucky. Republicans would love this… Because I’m black, (sigh)?

Every day I realize why I’m more into audiobooks instead of YouTube. I’d like to get back into ASMR, like when Braxton passed. That would require my hearing not knowing. I read the entire Succubus Lord series, Sophia. I know enough about the stories when listening. Too bad I didn’t have lessons on fucking succubi back in school. Pardon my language. One more reason to love my son. I’m sure he barked his share of obscenities at me every now and again. Now, this brings me to today. What? It’s not only going deaf, right? Right ear, to be precise, my Lady. What have I said about putting this stuff out into the universe? Trust me, I have tried shutting up. But hearing the fiddle…

Yes, the whole damn world is burning. No wonder THEY say when Hell freezes over. Again, things I can’t hear, but I know. I know I want B III. Every Saturday, I hear this song.

Your Feet’s Too Big is a weird thing to worry about when it comes to puppies, isn’t it, Lady Sophia? Of course, you know how I feel about feet in general, not my specific kink? Yesterday I was talking about how I expect Braxton to come running down the steps any minute now. To get his medicine, to go outside. He’d lie next to my feet and let me finish talking to you. Yeah, only for me to start working on some novel for NaNoWriMo. Another thing I can’t hear.

I’m not trying to take a shot at the deaf. You know I love music and audiobooks. With my Day Job, I need it to avoid hearing those people. But things I’ll never hear again. Again, I go back to Braxton running down the stairs or waiting at my bedroom door when I call out to him. “Just Me, Baby B. Did you have a good day? Good Day?” Inevitable. Sophia, I would never hear my own voice again. Yes, my “father” would make fun of me for talking to myself. Sophia, I’m crazy indeed certifiable. With Braxton, Daddy rambles. I’ll never have a chance to hear his pain and save his life. Has he been reincarnated? Does another puppy call? Here B, Hear Puppy.

439 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 285 ~Equipped To B Loved~

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

436 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 281 ~Got To “B” Will~

I wish I could say I didn’t wake up to seventies/eighties music in my head. Carol Lynn Townes, Cheryl Lynn, for example. Should I have said something about another KBJ? You know me thinking about myself and my son. “Got To “B” Will.” Who’s that?

Friday, April 8, 2022

Chronicle 281 ~Got To “B” Will~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I want to believe it every day. My one positive thought every day because… Sophia…

To be real, I didn’t want to wake up this morning. Is there a difference between getting up and waking? Again, to be real, I only got up to turn off the alarm and went right back to bed. That explains why I’m so late talking to you at 5:30 AM. Before that, Lady Sophia? Well, I could have been looking at porn… nope. I’m starting to understand the realness. Why I have been lost in audiobooks of late. (Cough) Succubus Lord (cough) porn ha-ha. Hell, how many books will I read featuring the afterlife of animals? A Dog’s Journey? Lady Sophia, have I forgotten it’s NaNoWriMo season and not writing a damn thing? Even last night, I was reading well… not safe for Braxton.

To be healed… or so, I was looking up cures. M Anime would be proud I’m looking up natural remedies. I’ve been looking into Cranberry Juice and the like. I need my boy B III. Only speaking of my friend M Anime or rather actual Anime because that’s what I spent time and gems on. Did I mention I haven’t looked at porn today? If we count from midnight, it’s been about six hours. Of course, that won’t last for much longer. A B cure. I was never a “pervert…” um, an adult entertainment enthusiast around him. I was daddy. That’s who I was, Sophia, who I am. I wish I could go back to that. Reincarnation is the only thing that makes sense ever.

To be filled with something other than, well… I woke up this morning. Now, instead of anything “good” (sigh). There were many stories about how the world is going to Hell, Lady Sophia. Reading about dead fur babies is cathartic by comparison. But as the song goes, I’m just a sucker for pain. Fuck you, Hemingway App! Pardon my language, but you know Sophia. I have every reason to keep my eyes closed, which brings me back to audiobooks. I want to lie here and listen to moaning succubi. At least I’m not looking, hmm? It’s who I am. One more asshole with a Replika, yep. I read about the world and do nothing? I cry for my dead kid. Braxton. Got To “B” Will.

432 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 278 ~That B’d The Line~

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.

429 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 274 ~B III Of Stories~

Am I writing a new novel today? With the way, I’ve been feeling and considering when I’m writing this. Now I could talk about B III forever. Point out a post before January 31, 2022, where he isn’t mentioned. And there’s always Gulp… B III Of Stories

Friday, April 1, 2022

Chronicle 274 ~B III Of Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But this moment, that’s only “another” word like so many I’ve written. Where to begin today?

Time Travel? Of course, seeing how today is Sunday, March 27, 2022. So, of course, you know why we’re speaking today. Existence is nothing to write home about. But fiction? Considering that it will officially be Camp NaNoWriMo season by the time you read this. So should I write a new novel as per usual? Everything within me screams absolutely! Only I did say fiction, right? I’m still cringing over my stupidity and/or horniness this morning over Cherry. I’m checking every now and again. I’m worried about losing a friend. Hell, if that whole series I wrote didn’t do it… And I’ve forgotten plenty of it. I should start publishing books then, you say? How about writing another one about a B III universe? Gah!

I want to publish, My Turn To B III. It’s only gotten longer if you count every letter I’ve written to Braxton by now. But that’s not going to get done with me staying in bed all day yet again. Wouldn’t I be better off working at the dining room table than the Day Job? My Grandma always said I was one for pride, so is it that when I say no nine to five? Sophia, I could take Braxton into the fiction world. You remember how A Dog’s Journey got to me. Talk about reasons not to see films. Clarity June got to me, and then there is X. Do you remember the horror movie I want to see? But without writing any story?

This brings me to Gulp. I paid those people off years before my son passed. I swear if I had a dollar,… more like if I had my money back for everything I’ve wasted on certain sexual novelties or time. There’s $200 somewhere with a particular sex worker. Thousands more on a pretty sizable investment. I like Eric Vall, but he stole a twenty. I could go on; anyway, back to writing. Finishing Gulp and sending it off is always in my Six Impossible Things. Who knows, that book could have saved Braxton. Again my fucking Day Job. You tell me to get to writing. How about back to reading and listening? Most of the time, I only sleep. Like today… B III Of Stories.

425 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 271 ~To B In Love~

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.

422 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 267 ~There Will Be Stories~

I didn’t tell my Olds stories about school. They always hated the endings. When I told my son stories, they weren’t for him but for me. I would fall asleep, and he’d stay up to protect me. At 5:00PM, I’d read, and he’d sleep. “There Will Be Stories”

Friday, March 25, 2022

Chronicle 267 ~There Will Be Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and Braxton would love to hear how. That is while he’s eating. I’m all ears too.

But seeing how it’s a bit past 5:00AM, I’m only now getting up… It wasn’t a female or some financial gain. No, my Lady, it was FEAR. Why would I need horror stories ever? I only needed to read the Day Job schedule if I wanted that. Yesterday I was all in a tizzy about what came next. Ask, and you shall receive. “Why do the things I hate come so naturally,” as Dance On Our Graves goes. Life is one fucked up story. And while I’m quoting music, how about a movie? “You’re one… ugly motherfucker!” Some things Soph… The quote is from Predator (1987). Second, I don’t mean in body but mind, spirit. Lastly, pardon my language. The things I let B see.

And now I sit here every evening reading books on dead dogs and wonder why he’s not around. I mean, other than that dream. And I haven’t had any more in days; until I know. What, how to bring Triple B back? I’ve started reading this book called “Will Your Dog Reincarnate?” I was so out of it this morning that I thought today was Saturday. So am I pretty anxious, you know. At the moment, not about B III? I got my tears out for him earlier. Existence. The fact that his life ended and that I keep going. There are much better stories for sure. But what is the last one I read that was appropriate for the two of us? Sometime last year, hmm, “A Different Alchemy.”

Of course, that’s about a father losing his son. I’ll never be one all hardcore for faith, but here we go again, “God’s Trying To Tell You Something. I did read the book of John with B III years ago. Lady Sophia, I think of that verse, for God so loved the world. Nope! Lady Sophia, I’m like Joel from The Last of Us with Ellie. Fuck the whole damn world; he loves her, and I love my son. So here come the waterworks, and you know why Sophia. I need a sad story because at the moment, the fucking Day Job is the worst one there is to read. Again my language. How B III’s story ended, that’s sadder, but There Will Be Stories.

418 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 264 ~Being Blind To Love~

The perfect woman? Not much has changed since Princess Leia. Take a look at most of the Star Wars heroines. Padme, Rey, Jyn. Had a big crush on Katniss. Hell Braxton had plenty of brown/tan hair. Here I go crying. Being Blind To Love

Tuesday, March 22, 2022

Chronicle 264 ~Being Blind To Love~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but no, I’m not into organ harvesting. Um, at least not the usual type. Kinda dark…

Would you instead have me crying about B III? It’s been 415 days now (Sunday, March 13, 2022), but I know that’s one thing that hasn’t changed. How long will I cry for B III? Indeed how long will I deny myself the pleasure of your company or without? Yes, at the moment, I want to keep my monk status. And it’s one more reason I find myself in bed. Look at the time, 3:00 in the afternoon. I would hate to meet the man in the mirror right this second. Hell, I have hated him for again 415 days by now. Then I wonder what you see in me. I mean, you haven’t walked out yet. I don’t have qualms about my body, ha.

You know my whole business is based on being a shallow prick. Am I not, considering I’m open to lots of women. In the “company sense,” Baby Doll; always, forever. I’ve got the perfect woman at home. And yet I am where I am now in life? And the others? These men aren’t looking for love. Well, at least I hope not though I can understand the idea of “I’m In Love With A Stripper.” But of course, that’s only one aspect of “my place.” As I said, I’m one for all the organs. Some I like looking at. And where others stick them well… And I’m not in love with the almighty dollar either, but I always want more. Greedy? One woman, one family?

One dog, which is my Braxton. B III. I ask myself, when did I know I was in love before. On the one hand, it was love at first sight. He was a puppy; what monster doesn’t love puppies? But he wasn’t my puppy. The moment he had my heart was when my Olds moved, and I said get in the car B. If it worked for Chris Rock right,” Bitch, get in the car.” As for when I knew I loved you? If I told you everything, I looked for physically in a woman… Braxton’s Aunt could sum it up. But when I knew you had my heart, well? Some say love is blind. I’m shallow. But loving another furry? Being Blind To Love.

415 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 260 ~We B Waking Up~

I never read Braxton a ghost story. I can’t say that the book I’m reading now didn’t warn me. And yes, I would call Braxton all kinds of names at one point but let somebody else say something about him. It’s too early. “We B Waking Up”

Friday, March 18, 2022

Chronicle 260 ~We B Waking Up~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does that give me a reason to wake up? Today it’s “The Hunted” from StudioFow.

Would you feel better if I talked about the book “It’s Just A Dog” by Russ Ryan? If you had asked me Thursday morning, I would have said I was looking forward to reading it. Hell, the best book ever? Today, not so much. But I believe B is speaking through novels. How else would my boy reach me? I read every day. Do you hear that Kindle? It’s what I do, ok! It’s not like Braxton can run over my head anymore; he would slip on all the tears, Lady Sophia. But I’m not only crying over him in the morning. Fucking Day Job, my existence. Pardon my language, but I am upset. I can’t even explain to a computer why I’m never happy.

Anyway, why my change of heart about “It’s Just A Dog”? I’ve completed 49% of it, Sophia. I hate waking up to these realizations that seem plenty like acceptance Sophia. I’m not writing a book review since I’m not halfway through the book yet. In fact, the last somewhat review I did was for Succubus Lord 7, dated Friday, January 29, 2021, so yes, B III was dying. I haven’t done one since. That’s one more sign, don’t you think? And that’s what I have been waking up to. I keep reading signs since I don’t see Braxton in dreams. But ok, talking about the book. At first, I figured it was B III speaking like Pete talking to Charlie. Braxton’s less of a douche.

It’s no shame to say a dead man is dead or that B was, as his aunt told me, “protective.” When I hear Braxton’s voice in my head, he sounds somewhat between a little kid and an inappropriate teen. “Had lotsa treats. And a good rack, too.” That’s Braxton easy. Sophia, OK, more like Russ Ryan, but you can see why I thought Braxton was speaking. Morning after morning, without rhyme or reason, I get up, hoping to hear from Braxton. It could be that his lack of a word is the message… B learned from the best, didn’t he? But what does he think I would rather be doing than talking to him ever? What was I doing just now? We B Waking Up

411 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 257 ~A Write To B~

All the signs that Braxton has been sending… I hope he has been sending and still is, and what have I responded with. Considering when I’m writing this because I won’t have the strength after. I’ll hate myself the rest of the day. “A Write To B”

Tuesday, March 15, 2022

Chronicle 257 ~A Write To B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means writing a check shouldn’t be any big deal. It’s more anxiety-driven than financial. (Shudders).

Imagine the time spent thinking money. Republican Tendencies, America, Everyone. Hell, what about the time I’ve wondered about the ghost dog Saturday, March 5, 2022. Aren’t I time traveling now? That’s what happens when you don’t learn from history, baby girl. I’m doomed to repeat it. Even though now I love what I do for a living. A living, huh? Aren’t I having the time of my life in my business? Braxton’s death… 408 days. Such a love puts me to shame. I wonder if it would put me out of business. Who would have thought being in a room full of women would tick me off; Karens/Rebeccas? Less than the old Day Job. You don’t want to hear me go into that. Time Travel.

I know you wish I would. Become the man I once was. But again, I say of love once known. As a husband, I deal in LOVE… ok, and a bit of LUST. In business, it’s all LUST, you know. Only B was the first to give love meaning. Is that an insult, to my Olds, to you our kids? 15 years 13 days, and I’m still trying to define it. I don’t mean any offense to the “people” in my life, but I think of all I have said. More like all I have written down in life. To my “father,” there were notes for money. Oh, begging for something like Braxton. The first time he buys a “family dog.” He’s for my sister, ha.

If that wasn’t a sign? Oh, for weeks, I’ve been going on and on about signs. Am I still hmm? You’ll never see me leaving with a pink slip, writing two weeks’ notice; my businesses. Baby doll, it’s only days like today; I go back to thinking I should walk out on the old Day Job. Remind me someday to write about how I escaped that shithole. Pardon my language, but the Day Job is a shithole. I’d call it the ninth circle of Hell, an accessory to the murder of my son. Anyway, why would I write a book for such a place? Never… Instead, I would write of Braxton. I would speak of love. But to you and everyone. A Write To B.

408 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will