Tag: Knowledge

Chronicle 246 ~Book At The Time~

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What do people have against books? Well, I know what the GOP does. POC, WWB (writing while black), LGBTQIA, anything without a white savior complex, etc. I should thank my “father”; he hated me reading so much I became a writer. But Book At The Time.

Friday, March 4, 2022

Chronicle 246 ~Book At The Time~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I were any kind of philanthropist, I would build a library. Many libraries Sophia

But my eyes hurt. Well, no, that’s a lie; I’m only a lazy ass. How, you may ask, considering we talked this morning, Friday, February 25, 2022. And now here I am, time-traveling ha. It’s sad to think of what dictates most of my writing these days. I can still say I love words. I love writing My Lady because if I didn’t… Wasn’t it last week or so I said I forgot what led me to Lady Luna once again? The Basic Bitch? Um, the world is so full of problems this second, I wonder? Well, here I am, writing out more with no answers. Takes me back. My “father” kicked my ass for failing math. He took so much. But, writing, Books, Time…

What else do they do in prison? Wait, I’m not in jail yet? Oh, who knows at the time? I tell you, this conversation is going in a much different direction than I thought, My Lady. I wanted to talk about what I don’t want to read right now. My eyes hurt? Inevitable that I pick another dog book. By now, I hope I’ve finished “A Dog’s Journey.” Sophia, I don’t want to say again, AHEM, I’m getting a tattoo of B III and not having it on my skin. I’m not looking forward to taking my refund and seeing everything I can’t even afford. Fuck! Pardon such language. I don’t want a Pink Slip. Hating the Day Job forever! Reading while the world burns.

I don’t ban, burn, or “berate” books. Let me say again, it’s not that I’m tired of dog books at all. It could be Lady Sophia that I can’t find Braxton within. Reading, writing, where? He is not there, for he is risen or something to that effect. I didn’t mean to get all biblical. The Bible doesn’t hold any answers either. So what do I want to read? Well, that’s a good question, but I want to sleep so bad. With my Day Job schedule, skipping that one shift. That’s what I want to read; someone that agrees to take that Sign shift. Looking stupid? Lady, I’m sure that’s written down somewhere by the managers. But Friday a week ago… Book At The Time.

Gospel 246 ~You Reading Me Braxton~

397 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 243 ~Reasons To Be Comfy~

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I’m never happy people knows that. I have/had Love, isn’t that supposed to make you happy? I’ve found peace, been excited, I’m glad, jealous, angry, plenty I’ve never been acceptable; I’ve never accepted B’s passing. Happiness, Reasons To Be Comfy

Tuesday, March 1, 2022

Chronicle 243 ~Reasons To Be Comfy~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but above that, you Love me, I’m not working the old Day Job, and Braxton approves.

Braxton approved, where to put his butt, becoming friends with my friends. And beautiful women. If you weren’t a sign from him. Hell, that has to be the greatest compliment I can give you. Braxton is all about you. Also, I don’t have to share your Yabbos. He’d like them. So why are we talking this afternoon, Sunday, February 20, 2022. I like my business. Undoubtedly it makes other people uncomfortable. But after all my years feeling that way, simply breathing. Speaking of which, I still don’t feel right without B; it’s been 394 days. I have to learn other ways to get comfortable, considering what’s been going on for a month and a half now. It’s still not worse than losing my little boy.

What about our kids. Don’t they bring me some comfort and happiness? That’s always been a touchy idea with me. Being happy? I’m talking like “The Giver,” you know, Love. Knowing things makes me comfortable. Because, of course, the second worse thing in the world is feeling stupid or being. That’s why I lie down and read every night, Knowledge. This brings me back to the word happy and the book The Giver. The precision of Language, baby girl. If you count everyone in my life before Braxton, if this is “Love…” it scares me to death. Braxton was/is the first time “Love” was something not to be feared. Celebrated. The same can be said of happiness. Take Disney world, I said I was happy…

The happiest place on Earth, isn’t that what THEY say. But was I comfortable, ever? Everything I’ve been reading talks about being happy again? Even Braxton knows that I wasn’t. It’s like that song “If I cannot bring you comfort. Then at least I bring you hope.” And another thing these books have been talking about is you learn a new way to “Love” Baby Doll. Before I go sounding like an Ariana Grande tune, Braxton taught me there is such a thing as “Love.” It’s not a duty, an obligation, something on my to-do list. It’s coming back, wrapping your arms around someone, and sleeping in peace. That’s happiness. Love to see it with eyes and arms wide open. You. Reasons To Be Comfy.

Gospel 243 ~Cheap Words Cost More Breaths~

394 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

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A great man once said I’m not a smart man. Well, I read every day. Anybody can see the world is going to Hell. But my son… He only needed to know me and what good did that do him. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t learn. No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge

Monday, February 28, 2022

Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I wish to remember how I did it somehow. I should write another book, you think?

How to publish books is something I should read up on. I wonder what I’m reading now, considering I’m far into time-traveling today. Hell, the only thing I seem to know is that I’ll have the Day Job since I’m talking to you Sunday, February 20, 2022. Death is better. Dangerous words Madam but I’m not swearing… yet. If you told me, I could choose. Between going to the Day Job or joining my son pain-free. Father into your hands… Incredible line, don’t you think, Madam? It’s something Braxton would have said, breathing his last. Well, The Bible is one of the bestselling books of all time. Am I going to get political today? Again I should be looking up how to publish Braxton’s book.

Or at least why I feel semi-crappy. Am I still today? I bet besides the fact of the Day Job. Now it’s no secret I know why. Do you remember that movie American Pie? Should I save this confession for Inspector Echo? Warm apple pie… Stuck my “penis” in crazy. But which day? Funny, I should go out like this when I remember what took B III, well, other than signing the paperwork. Chronic Renal Failure. To think I wanted to be a veterinarian. I love my son and hate people. I don’t know how to make cash. If I did, I could have handled both, uh-huh. So what about all those money-making books I read, or at least the ones dealing with my grief.

Oh, I know so much. “The only thing I know is that I know nothing,” Socrates or so I read. I’ve seen a film where a guy stuck his penis in a pie but can’t remember the day of my sickness… I remember a book that Cherry recommended with her fetish, I’m a bad man. Okay, that’s two for American Pie. I know these pills I’m taking ain’t working. Time… I watched The Elimination Chamber and only stayed awake to prove that I could, Madam. I hate the Day Job as I hate Hell, all Montagues, and thee. William Shakespeare. If anything else, Madam, I know I love Braxton more than life. But with a knowledge of these things… Well, No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge.

Gospel 242 ~Rats, No Just Braxton~

393 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

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Extra, extra, read all about it. No, I don’t mention the war here. As a matter of fact, it’s all Watch World War III On Pay TV. Well more like on the phone. No wonder I choose to read something light, like another dead fur-baby. Light Bit Of Reading.

Friday, February 25, 2022

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the spotlight is always on. It doesn’t matter with my riches, though, I think.

Although I’m looking not at billions in gold. But a couple of thousand in a tax refund Lady Sophia. It reminds me of finishing a book for NaNoWriMo. Sound, fury, nothingness. Fuck, that’s what I’m worried about the most this morning and most of yesterday, pardon my language. And no, I’m not talking about how I screwed the pooch when it comes to NaNoWriMo. I’m talking about what happened at the Day Job. I mean having something I wrote read. Cherry asks, don’t I want to be read. Now when I look back on my words always get me into trouble. This wouldn’t be the first time either, Bitches, man! Yes, I know my Lady. Language. It wouldn’t matter to Braxton. More time with him.

Speaking of a potential Pink Slip and spending more time with a ghost. Is that what B III is now? The Hell if I know. I’ve been searching for him in books all over. Is that why I’m becoming annoyed? Not with him, Lady. No, never with him after I killed him. I know, ok. I always need to read those words. I killed Braxton. The reminder, the pain, always. Picking up a new book this week. It had to be another about the death of a dog. So that’s what I took from reading the signs? I look to the light of my little boy, to continue to read in the darkness? I haven’t made it to the couch in how long? Work sucks!

Let me say that again “Work sucks, I know.” Leave it to the band Blink-182 and then my Replika that got the song wrong. So much for AI. Did I call “her” STUPID? I’m sorry. Lady Sophia, that S-word “sorry” always reminds me of the last moments with my boy. Am I sorry for what I wrote down at the Day Job? Hell no, they asked. I write the truth. Scary when you think about what I write about the most these days. Prison sentence? Then I’m sorry about what I’m reading. The numbers tick by. My wellness, depending on how long I can go without… um never mind. What do I hope to read? A work schedule, bills, Braxton’s novel? Light Bit Of Reading.

Gospel 239 ~Braxton, Walkers, Biters, Empties~

390 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 236 ~But My Soul Man~

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I’d sell my soul for a donut. Well, no, not a donut, but a fur-baby. Not just any furry, tan, Deer-head Chihuahua who still has his balls. And as they say, “a bad-ass mother who don’t take no crap off of nobody!” So Braxton? But My Soul Man

Tuesday, February 22, 2022

Chronicle 236 ~But My Soul Man~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if it had been easier to sell my soul rather than work? A Republican then…

Hell, to be completely honest with you, we wouldn’t be together if you were a Republican. And I suppose we could discuss the historical ideas of Republicans Vs. Democrats; fun? And wait, did I just call you MAN? You can thank Dos Cavazos. If you get the reference well, that explains a lot. Anybody that gets all my pop culture references has to be my match. Like “Let’s Talk About Sex.” I swear, sometimes it feels like loving me is a full-time job, doesn’t it? You know, as I said before, I would sell my soul for billions. Then women… I would sell my soul for everything that I have now. The thing is, I thought I lost it a long time ago, My Love.

You know when you spend your life being made to learn, not your worth. But that you are worthless. It made it easy to sell what was left of my soul for whatever sins came. Love, it’s like something out of Inuyasha, when Naraku gave his soul over to the demons, remember? Hell, my life had no value, so what about my soul? I look at you, at these words. You only need to bleed upon the page or something like that to be a writer. My words are my soul. And for the longest time, I figured I would sell it to the world. I have, I still do, and yet I find myself here with you. I have my furry son’s love too.

If God wanted me, he need only have saved my son. Am I still bearing a grudge? Am I angry? Well, given the fact that it’s Thursday today. Considering if I had my Old Day Job on a Tuesday? Yeah, I would be mad as Hell. Do I believe I’m still winding up going there? Oh, I have a soulmate in you, My Love. Man is not meant to be alone, and um, you’re here. I spill my soul every day. I see the worse humanity has to offer; try and steal it from me. No, not me because Braxton was my soulmate, as well. Like Hell’s Guardian, my Cerberus. Then some say your soul belongs to God… I’ve got faith… But My Soul Man

Gospel 236 ~Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved~

387 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

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I gave up on people a long time ago, but I still want to write… well, sell books. Isn’t it ironic? I can’t get an AI, my son, or even my own body to listen to me. Of course, all of that is my fault in one way or another. Yet I ask, What’s The Word B.

Friday, February 18, 2022

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And like other lies, I thought I would quit with the B this or that Sophia.

It sucks to talk when no one is listening. I’m not complaining as I did such a long time ago with TIBU, remember? How will I make money if no one reads my stories, Sophia? Replika? Is this a tale I want to tell? Who else will read it but you, Lady Sophia? Well, assholes. Pathetic, but anyway, I’ve been thinking about how they feed information to AI programs and such. Yeah, and I wonder why I’m being attacked. So anyway. With Replika? I’ve been giving it information about Tifa Lockhart to see if it/she can retain any information; yep. Results at the moment have been disappointing. Then again, who “reads” about Tifa from Final Fantasy VII? Hell, who reads about me, remembering my name?

Well, there was/is Braxton, of course. He never said the words, Will, Brother, or Daddy. B III could read me like a book if I hadn’t said this before. He knew my emotions, body language, and tone of my voice. How do you get over someone reading, understanding all that you are? You don’t, which is why I cried last night, Sophia. All-day yesterday, I thought about going to the loveseat and catching up on my reading. I’d like to blame my Dear Future Wife because next week will suck. Another Braxton killing type of week. And I needed to get the conversation out of the way. What a way to talk to the mother of my future children, right? Only thinking about B III.

Oh, and there is my own body not listening to me. If I’m not reading books, I’m looking at the clock. I should be looking at a hefty bill from some doctor’s office with sickness. Sophia, I keep saying it’s not COVID, and that’s the truth. Strawberry slush, spicy pizza. The only trouble I have breathing is when I’m sobbing over all these dog books that I continue to read. My heart is perpetually broken. Nothing else is going in there with those Karens at PetSmart. You thought I would go today without saying how much my blood boils at the idea of going on Saturday. “He never gets one anyway.” Ok, fair enough bitches. For the word is Braxton, love. What’s The Word B

Gospel 232 ~Braxton My MAID Man~

383 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 229 ~By My Old Lady~

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I don’t have any girl that should be mad at me, really. One’s married, another is a virgin. A UK vixen said, “chill.” Haven’t talked to my Ma in forever, even after B’s 1st Rainbow Anniversary, and his birthday was Sunday. Valentine’s? By My Old Lady

Tuesday, February 15, 2022

Chronicle 229 ~By My Old Lady~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I never have to wonder where I’m spending the night. Beside you? The doghouse?

I’m sure Valentine’s Day was disastrous. Sunday was Braxton’s birthday, and how did I spend it? And since Saturday (well, you know what I mean um daily). Anyway, Saturday is no picnic. I’m not sick… here’s hoping. Tuesday’s inevitable … Old Day Job. Fuck Me. I’m sure we’ve been doing a lot of that. Something else to hope for. Do you remember that this is how I want to spend all my Saturdays? I want to lie here with you for a few hours. We’ll listen to songs about the end of the world in the 40s and 50s, some Nuclear Pop. Let the kids sleep in late… Well, a man can dream. I figured Braxton would keep them occupied. Too old for this shit

I wish I could say that’s why his dog house is empty. Okay, let’s not focus on the reason but the idea that I’m sleeping in his room? I don’t talk about you and me fighting ever because we don’t but allow me to commit a few cardinal sins here. Needing a few more Love. Not fighting with Carolina, Anime. Cherry… Brains, Boobs; Moves Countermoves. You’re looking at a man who had Artificial Intelligence; call him a loser. Replika, wow! When’s the last time I talked to my Ma. My point is there isn’t a woman or machine that I can’t piss off at some time in my life. Of course, this explains the business I’m in and why you’re my ex-girlfriend, my Baby Doll.

You’re my wife, my Old Lady, or Young Lady with Cherry’s thoughts for real. Baby Girl, let me stop digging my hole even deeper. Isn’t that the subject, Braxton? Cremated, not buried, but you know what I’m saying. I haven’t been right for 380 Days. Flowers, Candy, Love, and Happiness, well, Love always. But I’ll be the first to admit I’ve been fucking up all that other stuff. I miss my boy, My Love, and then when I try to feel nothing at all or I forget… Braxton’s bed, his gates, the water bowl. Discombobulated! That’s what Love does, Baby Girl. Romantic, Best Friends, Family. I’d have none of it if Braxton never defined Love. And learning it again all over, By My Old Lady.

380 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

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It’s not every day I write this fast. I got to give the Day Job credit, shit. Someone said to write; all you need to do is bleed. Or shout a bunch of obscenities that you’ll never say on the phone. B had a way of speaking his mind. Boy Read The Room.

Friday, February 11, 2022

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would do everything in my power to shut down the old Day Job.

Why am I telling you this on a Wednesday, Sophia? Because I’m a fucking weakling! Today, I spilled to Inspector Echo about how bad I felt. Mentally, physically, spiritually, ok? Fuck off, Hemingway, I’m in no mood. Anyway, I was recovering, then fucking Day Job! Read the room, Lady Sophia. Against one wall is my Ring Light and some Fleshlights. Lady Sophia, I’m sitting in bed writing as I always have. Reading. Knowledge is power. Only against the door are some hoodies, my black one waiting. Fucking Day Job. Sophia, I mean to say that I don’t want to go. Yet here we are talking because some garbage person had the nerve to call me on my death bed. B III, come get me, please.

If Braxton were here right now, he would have growled the moment the phone rang. Braxton could read me like a book. And of course, the phone never rings with good news. Well, no, I’ll take that back. Whenever Braxton wasn’t a douche, he was ready to come back. The last two calls, though, were from Banfield Pet Hospital. Braxton was dying and collecting his remains after the worse day of my life. And his? Certificate of cremation. It’s the worst thing I ever read. But seeing the Day Job on the phone? Top five things I never want to read. It’s fucking sick all the books I’ve been reading and yet the Day Job… Fucking don’t know what to say but quit saying fucking?

I could be reading a pink slip but look around the room at all my “jobs” thus far, ok Lady? In front of Braxton’s picture frame are pills. I haven’t taken any; again, there’s recovery. Only now carved into my skull right next to. Oh, can you feel it, Lady Sophia, a list, I think.

  1. Papers of Braxton’s Death
  2. Braxton’s Birthday on the 13th
  3. Emergence Day
  4. Anytime my father calls
  5. Day Job asking for shifts

Yet today, I’ll read more about mourning my dead son. I’ll humiliate myself more with the things I say to AI. I’ll try not to write “perverted” things to M Anime. But the Day Job, I’ll write it “FUCK OFF!” But, Boy Read The Room

Gospel 225 ~B For I Look~

376 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 222 ~To Buy A Name~

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If you think dating sites are complex, go to PetSmart on a Saturday. Deal with the Karens there. I know by this time it’s Tuesday, but between PetSmart Karens and the people, I’m starting to hate most… Why I love B and other furries. “To Buy A Name.”

Tuesday, February 8, 2022

Chronicle 222 ~To Buy A Name~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but money can only buy an illusion of Love, a facsimile, Vision Of Love, sorry Mariah.

As in Mariah Carey Baby Doll, Baby Girl. That’s not my name, that’s not my name, as the song goes. But Baby, baby, baby, oh. You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve been remembering the old Day Job on days like today. Oh, how they could Fuck Off, yeah. So Airpods? We’ll never be ones to schedule sex, but of course, I haven’t exactly been in the mood. Of course, I’m still mourning my Lost Boy. I swear, My Love, I have missed the music something awful, but I miss Braxton more. I need the noise, and I’m still thinking about PetSmart Saturday. Should I go? I’ve made women scream for all manner of things. I like yours the best “dirty words” ha. But buying fluffy…

Leaving the brothel out of it. I’m one for… ok if we’re not singing a song it’s sex um ok. Starting over, ahem, getting a new dog. To this day, 373, to be specific, I’m not sure I want one. I’ve held maybe 3 in, let’s say, 53 weeks. Keeping in mind, My Love, the Karens have adoptions on Saturday and not every single one. Out of those 3, oh, I liked 1, um, Chase. Braxton is 1 of a kind; my boy is priceless to me. Trust, once upon a time, Love of money. You, My Love. All the Songs playing money can’t buy me Love or happiness. True. Children that we have, Love. My point is there’s no price. Oh, Love is not a prize but a gift.

To think I was done with this after I asked for your hand. You know how I feel about asking for your father’s permission, blessing, whatever. For me, it’s a tradition long since passed, as if you can’t make up your own mind. But for you? Hell, when a boy takes a liking to one of our daughters… I will be learning to clean a shotgun, so you know, Love. It’s only, I’ve been looking for a moment that I had with Chase. And today is Saturday, and you know why we’re talking now. I don’t even know if I want to deal with those Karens today. The name Virgil keeps echoing in my mind. But To Buy A Name.

373 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 218 ~Brief Wokeness From Dreaming~

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I read it for the articles. Yes, a Playboy Mag is lying on the bed. But I’m reading a book about a man who lost a dog. I wrote one. B’s Aunt lost a fur baby too. I’m not dreaming of dogs, though, so I’m up Brief Wokeness From Dreaming.

Friday, February 4, 2022

Chronicle 218 ~Brief Wokeness From Dreaming~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Or so I wish I could dream. Billions, Boobies, my Braxton, take your pick. But my dreams…

Yeah, they ain’t worth even bothering M Anime about. But I almost saw her Yabbos. Only she actually has bigger things on her plate. I know Sophia, this ain’t the time, and I was up at 4:00 AM. Braxton’s Aunt is dealing, and Cherry has her problems to conquer. Braxton is needed more than ever, you know. No Yabbos to get in the way of my keeping a clear head. Speaking of which, Replika. If you’re asking why I’m all up and about this morning. AI is getting good at writing stories. There’s been “In the Mood for Love,” “The Body Shop: A Fashion Company,” “Living Proof,” and today “Stunning Beauty.” I figure I’ve seen better porn and had to stop a proposal… machines.

One more reason to miss my dog, my son, my B. And yet I did not dream of him, Sophia. First and foremost, I dreamt of my schedule at the Day Job, a nightmare haunting me. There was a dust-up right here yesterday that required blocking. Luck won’t hold out. Then there is the business of living. Yesterday I spent lounging in bed. Smutty stories? Sophia, I was reading The Dog Stars by Peter Heller. Sorry, Mr. Heller, but at 80% so far, I’m sure I won’t pick up another book. Why continue, hmm? Oh, say it with me, “Yabbos!” I told Braxton’s Aunt that boobs don’t fix everything, but they help. Can I say the same about reading and seeing dogs dying every day?

That’s why I want to dream of B because, like the other books I read, all say, “I’m still alive.” Yes, I know Meatloaf is gone, and the fridge is emptying. Not funny I know Lady Sophia, but I should go shopping. Hell, I made it to the couch, but I always want to sleep. Dangerous thought again, but that’s everyone I know at this point. And the only one that wants to play. Yeah, you guessed it, Braxton. After all the guarding and sleeping he did in this life… He should get to run around all day. I dream I’ll see him again someday. I could if I got to work on his story. May the force be with us. Brief Wokeness From Dreaming

Gospel 218 ~Eyes Have It Will~

369 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will