Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Crossing the line varies from person to person. Defending Nazis, harming pets, or liking R. Kelly, or more to the point, the music he made. The only lines I’ve been crossing these days are international currencies and stuff B needs. B There Some Line

Friday, November 5, 2021

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which to answer the title question is no. With that money, you’ll do any damn thing.

Save Braxton? I keep telling myself that. In a way, I was lucky my boy was the scrappiest man I knew/know. No broken bones. B III’s heart kept right on beating for fifteen years despite the few when he was on medication. The meds I bring out 278 Days afterward. Hell, I couldn’t be bothered to afford some stairs. Little Braxton learned to fly, always. Sophia, I hate making that “joke.” There’s also the fact I wouldn’t have Braxton neutered. B III was a man, and I wouldn’t take that away, no. Um, B III should have been bred, hmm. Again how did it all end Lady Sophia? Name on the line, and I’ll never cross another with his name on it, to be sure.

Because I’m a Bad Man, and no, not R. Kelly bad. To appreciate the art but not the artist… Didn’t I say years ago that I wanted to be as infamous as the Marquis de Sade? If I’m going down, you know the crime I should be punished for. Every time I hear sirens Sophia. But these days, it’s been the beeps, chimes, and dings that have been telling my story. God knows I’m still lying to NaNoWriMo. For the record, counting our conversation with Lady Sophia. This will be 3,900 words completed today. Well, why not 5,000? Hell, if I swore on Braxton’s name, I’d still be a lying piece of shit. 6,900 when I’ll tell NaNoWriMo it’s 8,500. Writing most of the day.

I keep telling myself that I should let my anger fuel me. A lot of the time, I fear the man in the mirror. Do you know why no one else should? It would require me to have more energy than to cross the line, which is the edge of the bed to the floor. Energy, FEAR. Sophia, there’s been one other thing keeping me glued to the sheets or shower walls. Reaching 5,000 words would be easier if I wasn’t looking up Pokémon Bras and lingerie. Every OnlyFans girl would kick my ass for how many “euros or quid” I’m spending. However, I crossed the line with that girl too. That was yesterday, but wow, Lady Sophia. Crossing the line feels damn good. But wrong. B There Some Line

278 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 126 ~Just Be It Braxton~

Nothing against Nike other than the expense. Too busy with my belly, some English boobs, books, and of course B III. No, I can’t Just Do It. Although if it meant my Day Job for the rest of my life? Why I don’t fear Hell but Happy Just Be It, Braxton.

Thursday, November 4, 2021

Chronicle 126 ~Just Be It Braxton~

277 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Or should I be asking, were you a good boy? It’s Heaven, Rainbow Bridge, whatever.

But then again, you were here… It’s the end of the spooky season, I know. And I did eat quite a few chocolate-covered almonds. My form of an exorcism, hmm B. But driving you away? I did that before, but let’s not talk about January 31st but here on Day 277. Hell, I didn’t get anything done. 3 things woke me up this morning, your picture and hoping for Cherry’s boobs. I’d swear you were haunting me if I didn’t notice the power had gone out. If only for a second. I found your PetSmart bandannas on the floor, but they could have slipped off, B. I’m looking for signs, Braxton. Last Saturday in particular. I’m a fucking traitor B III. Pardon my language, B.

What kind of monster am I? Well, I killed you, and people want me to stop saying that. Deaf ears, dead man. I wish I could return to being the zombie-like man I was afterward, B. Yesterday I was intent on becoming a ghost. All the white ceiling dust or my white shadow following behind me. I was in the air on all those ladders, and if I fell, Braxton. It wasn’t high enough to kill me, but sticker shock at the hospital. Which brings me to why I ain’t writing? I didn’t want to be a murderer, and I can’t stand liars. My NaNo novel? Even in that, Win William Bridgman wants to sleep. I didn’t make the girl a corpse but a robot.

Would you have liked to be a robot, like out of Alita: Battle Angel? I never showed you off when you were alive and since you’ve been gone. Every day now B III without fail. Today if I died and went straight to Hell because I trust I’m not going anywhere else. Would you come looking? You’d go What Dreams May Come. Don’t Braxton ever. Braxton, knowing how you listened to me before. Sad the first time you ever obeyed some orders, it took three needles. I’ll never be that man. Holding that fur-baby Saturday. Braxton, he got lucky I didn’t choose to bring him to your home. Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy. Regardless of Yabbos, happy I can’t Just Be It, Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

Up the ladder to the roof. Like the song. I didn’t get that high today. Days like this have me thinking about Jenny wanting to jump off that bridge in Forrest Gump. I don’t fear heights, but if I had gone flying through the air today? By The Ladder B

Wednesday, November 3, 2021

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I know something about the corporate ladder. If you mean my Day Job… Fuck.

Pardon my French, Inspector. If I had fallen off a ladder today, that would have been the last word I would say. It would be more to the tune of “Thank You.” Falling’s a luxury. It takes far more courage to jump. Hell, I jump all the time, out of FEAR, a firm tone, a girl I want to fuck. If I had taken a few more bumps on the head today, I’d learn something. Only it’s as if I played a few rounds of Glass Stepping Stones from Squid Game. No matter where I put my feet today, every step sent me falling. But I kept climbing, why, Echo? The higher I go, the easier it would be to find Braxton. Isn’t that poetic?

Surprised I can even remember what that is. Aren’t I supposed to be on some incredible rise, writing? Between my unpublished poetry and NaNoWriMo, which I’ll be lying to. Only I haven’t been lying about my genuine desire. Yes, Inspector Echo, something else is rising, besides the dick in my pants. Let’s say that Pounds have Dollars beat for sure. OnlyFans girls would be P.O’ed at me. Climbing ladders for $12.00 per hr ain’t helping. Again, I was supposed to be somebody, a leader. Instead, I was followed by a puppy of the human variety all day. Look, I have issues. Understatement of the century but actual mental problems? Do people see me like him? A supervisor asked, could she buy me a Christmas gift.

As long as it doesn’t breathe and doesn’t remind me of the dead. It has to be about B III. In better days, every dollar made scaling those ladders would be for Braxton to eat. Inspector Echo, we are in the days of Humiliations Galore. As always, but more noticeable. I’m hanging all sorts of balls/ornaments on the ceiling. I’m wondering where my balls are. Oh yeah, I’m splashing the contents all over some girl attempting to see her Yabbos. Inspector, I’m having a ball instead of working on my novel. I mentioned NaNo’s lie. Echo, to be a better man and work all night like when Braxton was here. The latter man sucks compared to my former self. Braxton’s Daddy. By The Ladder B.

276 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 124 ~B Fixing That Soon~

What makes a man? I’ve said before I thought it was women or their mammaries, to be specific. It could be money. I want to get away from my father, and what’s my age again? Or it could be mutts though B III was purebred. Love, B Fixing That Soon

Tuesday, November 2, 2021

Chronicle 124 ~B Fixing That Soon~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means when it comes to small stuff… The wi-fi and not my son. Man’s Priorities

Friend? Hell, Best Friend? For forever and a day, B III will be my son, but before all that. Yesterday I was reminded of when I first met him. My sister’s dog. It’s what B was, my sister’s dog. How was I to know what he would be? I wasn’t anybody. I’m only a man. Friend, Forever, Father. Did I even have any friends back then? Nope! Braxton fixed that. I talked a lot about “forever.” Well, no, I said the world was going to end, and B fixed that. As far as loving something, someone that wasn’t fixated on some Yabbos. Braxton fixed that. And so you wonder why I’m falling apart. Dealing with my father last week, I have to fix, pretend me.

Forever can’t get here fast enough. I’m tired of the stuff I have to do. Tiring myself in things that shouldn’t matter… NaNoWriMo. I won’t lie. When I first saw you, it was all about Paradise By the Dashboard Light. If you knew how much I wanted you then, now? Only I was a different man back then. You make me better, but Braxton made me whole. Now I sit here like Wilford Young, trying to figure out how to keep Snowpiercer running. Instead, I want to be Andre Layton. My Love, I have a thing for brunettes, Baby Girl. Braxton was/is one of a kind, as are you. Only I can’t have him back. Such a small part, yet all of them come together.

Fatherhood made me the man I am. I’m a Dad, ok. It’s why I’m still here and will be. Love. Now I don’t tell you much about my father other than finances. Strived for billions. Money, My Love, children need time, reason instead of terror, for someone to feel Love. Braxton never asked for a dime. But everything I did, I did to make sure he was ok. It’s the same with our children. Did I rely on him too much? We are supposed to be there for our children, not the other way around. But no one wakes up knowing how to be Dad. How to do that when Braxton was trial and error. We built each other; now repairing… B Fixing That Soon.

275 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 123 ~Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends~

There ain’t no rest for the wicked as the song goes. Not for them or me. Only the good die young. Where’s B III? He was my baby even at 15. Old dogwise. Hell, I did believe he would outlive me… I had my reasons. Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends

Monday, November 1, 2021

Chronicle 123 ~Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends~

Two-Hundred And Twelfth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the man I’m looking at is the world’s enemy. Somethings will never change, Madam J.

Of course, right now, I’m scraping by. The fact that we’re speaking on a Wednesday afternoon in October (Time Travel) lets you know that It WASN’T A Good Day. It’s one thing to not have any friends at the Day Job. I don’t want any but being lied to, Madam. I’m sure that the manager lied to me about my paycheck and my responsibilities. Who knows, I could be wrong, but everyone there believes I’m STUPID anyway. It’s a disease. Not only STUPIDITY but how I find enemies. It’s like a fucking Hydra. One head drops dead. And two more rise. To think of all the times I got mad at Braxton for barking at nothing. No, he saw everything.

Well, not me. B’s murderer, his killer, the fucking Grim Reaper. People are getting sick of me saying that. Hell, I don’t blame them. I reached out to a few friends today (Wednesday). Braxton’s aunt said hello. Another is pretty injured, and one said nothing. That leaves me with a few choice words for the man in the mirror, well, one. “Yuck.” Remembering my motivations. Someone spoke about your best friend/worst enemy staring at you in the mirror. Well, Braxton was my best friend. My worst enemy lives on. If I had the guts to leave my Day Job, they would go on. B III would have died faster. Yet here I am, Madam repeating the words of Rick Grimes. “We Are The Walking Dead. Lived to become the villain.

Like father like son, right? If my father and I agree on anything. It’s the fact that I should plan on not outliving him. He’s over half my age, of course. Fuck I’m thirty-seven. Every E-Day is a failure. Oh yeah, today starts NaNoWriMo and NoFap. The Good, Bad, Ugly. Only Braxton isn’t here to sit under the table, keeping me focused. Hands meet keyboard. You don’t see any girlfriend around here making me break into “Baby I Love You.” Madam, you’re an imaginary one out of six, and I should be writing about “Bridgman.” Oh, what? I’m not writing about B III again. I outlived him, and my enemies are slothful. I’m the worst of them all, dear friend. Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends

274 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 122 ~B Answered The Call~

Today is for the monsters, but most of mine I’ll hear Monday during business hours. To think I hated my phone before because of the spammers, it’s real people, wanting to ruin my day, wanting me to adopt, to live up to my writing. B Answered The Call

Sunday, October 31, 2021

Chronicle 122 ~B Answered The Call~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means every phone call is an opportunity. Not for you, I’m afraid. Never for you fool.

At least the lady didn’t scoff at you yesterday. I swear if Chase’s life hadn’t been on the line… I would have walked out of there without another word. For Braxton, I put up with a lot of people’s shit. I wanted him to live. I hope that Chase lives, and he will. Correct answer. Like saying Good Morning, Happy Halloween. Hell, you didn’t speak to B III when you were feeling like this. It would take almost an hour and what time is it, 5:00 AM? I know you should be thanking me for my actions yesterday. I’ll thank you for surviving the week. One more reason I couldn’t bring that fur-baby here yesterday. Sounds like an excuse for not doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Dystopian Girls 2
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 008 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Is that why you’re so angry? Two out of six ain’t bad… well, it is, but anyway. Keep your hand off your “hose,” will you? That fire has to go somewhere. Evil prevails, like tonight. Only you won’t be answering the door. I hope you don’t have to answer the phone. And yes, I fucked up with that email yesterday. Remember, you’re no hero, dammit. NaNoWriMo is the only opportunity you should be concerning yourself with, and how will you use it? The hoes I know. Coming up with names like Nyx Amaya Griffin, SIGH. The call of your inner writer, or should I say monster. God knows you didn’t need to hear, best friend, daddy, or hero this morning. Any new, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading History Of Present Complaint
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 008 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Remember B. Always but I mean the fact that he would answer the call. I didn’t. Yesterday, how many times am I going to say it. And you’ll never see Chase again, you know that. To be fair, I can’t make the call either. I sat there for an hour, and I couldn’t face what I’d done. Well, I didn’t make a phone call for Street Tacos at B-Dubs. And to tell my Ma, ha? Now you’re living in fear because you’ll have to answer the call from your father. I talked to the animal rescue people. And there’s Braxton. His bark isn’t going away anytime soon. Because you are selfish, slothful, a sissy, um no but resisting Yabbos. Not Braxton, B Answered The Call

273 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

I’m sure someone said something wise of grief and hunger, not that I found it… I’m not that smart. All I know is that when Braxton died, my Ma asked whether I was eating, and I picked up ribs. Are you hungry seems easy enough to ask? “To The B Eve’d”

Saturday, October 30, 2021

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be clever? Well, you saw that title. “Behave In The Cherry Patch?”

No, NaNoWriMo Eve is tomorrow, and so is Halloween. Let’s not forget Fear The Walking Dead and Walking Dead: World Beyond. The start of a new week and my list of eff ups aka Six Impossible Things. But um, God “rested” on the 7th day. Yep so did B III. But my story, didn’t I say I would be bringing characters back from the dead? My “loves?” Or am I digging myself into a tiny grave when it comes to writing? There will be some “plowing,” in my words. Don’t remind me, yesterday was all about Blue Balls, Lunalesca. I don’t know how I’m going to write with that kind of pain. Oh, right, the only bodily fluids leaving were tears over B III again.

Saturday was B’s last full day. He couldn’t do a damn thing but Test His Might. If God made woman from one of man’s ribs, man took another and gave it to the dog. Oh yeah, the dog was smart enough to bring it back. Ooh, that was not a gripe at women, Lady Luna. Hell, if anything, I’m not the man sitting on his ass drinking a beer and watching the game. I’m the boy lying in his bed waiting for his best friend to come back home. Braxton would be proud. I ignored him most of the week, but he was no fan of Sundays. That’s the truth. Once again, it’s Saturday, but I guess I’m getting an early start on my grief.

Braxton, boobs, and that “bad man” better known as Dad. One I’ll never see again, two I want to avoid, and three is calling Monday. But Sunday will always be the worst day for me. Some things are supposed to be said, smart things for sad times. Only every single day feels like a funeral, but I’m not sure whose. Yet I stay crying over one, my Little B. Lady Luna, is that why I don’t want to talk about today? I betrayed him when I watched him dying. I go and look at the other fur-babies like B III hasn’t been gone 272 Days. There’s no day or night, only life and death. Stories, Saturdays, my sucky life. Say What? To The B Eve’d

272 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 120 ~How Scary Stories B~

My NaNo project came to me as I sat in a Burger King drive-thru spending $3.00 as $12.00 an hr ain’t going to cut it. Wow, I was lied to. That’s like saying the black guy dies in the horror movie, oh she’s pretty, there’s a virus. How Scary Stories B

Friday, October 29, 2021

Chronicle 120 ~How Scary Stories B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford a Lobotomy. Why would I forget Braxton’s death, my father’s call?

No, no, no, as we’re close to All Hallows’ Eve and all, I want to tell you another scary tale. Forgive me for the lack of a title, “Behave In The Cherry Patch” is all I have for NaNo now. Anyway, AHEM, once there was a boy who thought he received a Day Job promotion. The boy would be in charge for once; he would make a lot of money. Perhaps he could live The American Dream. He would work hard; he would do it not only for himself but to honor his lost boy, B III. So he looked at his paycheck to see his worth and… $12.00 hr. Scary, isn’t it? It gets so much worse, Lady Sophia, doing the numbers this morning.

But before that, how about another shot at a horror tale. Quasimodo, Jigsaw, zombies, ha. At least I have the good sense not to show my face. Anyway, it was HARD getting up this morning. You know what I mean, that “third leg.” Usually, I only got two, Braxton’s walk. No Lady Sophia, without him, I’m allowed to indulge in the light. So I see what I’m doing, disgusting. 271 Days since Braxton left. 161 Days I was a monk. Now 6 Days of abstinence. Well, at least I didn’t put this morning’s shenanigans on OnlyFans. My Stuff and Thangs. Still, the monster grows. It’s like I’ll come apart any second. My skin is crawling, and I’m so cold. The boy, the man, I am.

Or whatever it is that I’m becoming because I won’t be writing another Braxton novel. “Behave In The Cherry Patch” will be my next book. Yet to write Chapter characters. My tale will be about lost “loves” back from the dead. A Technological Necromancer, ha. The things we do for love. Not that I could write quite like Game of Thrones. Show or books, hmm? It depends on who you ask, and I’m not asking people. Not B III’s book. Lady Sophia, the story will be about Father Bridgman’s dead children. And plenty of hot pieces of ass when it comes to The Moondust. What’s scarier than telling the truth about a work of fiction. Like JoAnna Luna’s hotness in “Display?” How Scary Stories B

271 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 119 ~Rereading A’s And B’s~

Lies, I told my son. Lies, I tell myself, I’m glad I wrote the story out. At the rate I’m going, a story that will never be published. But these letters to my little boy even when he was 15, which is damn near 70 in “dog years?” Rereading A’s And B’s

Thursday, October 28, 2021

Chronicle 119 ~Rereading A’s And B’s~

270 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? The fact that we’re talking on a Sunday lets you know all about my day.

It’s another reason I’d shush you as Soon As I Get Home from work. You know why you never knew your stepmom. Who wants to hear about Humiliations Galore always? Braxton, even more so, it hurts when I lie at the Day Job. I’ve said it before that going to my old words of “another day,” my indifference. No B, “son, what you don’t understand.”And here come the waterworks with “Don’t Look Down.” Only I didn’t leave you. The rest of the song still applies. Also, I don’t want to retell the story of how you died, B III. Hell, I relive that tale every time I shut my eyes. It’s the reason I cry every day. I’m burning myself alive. Remember the movie Spontaneous?

No, that’s a film I watched long after you passed. The stories I tell every night so I can sleep but now I’m telling old stories. In my most hated words list, I should add Acceptance. I still haven’t, you know. 270 Days and Routine, your water bowl remains full, and I haven’t switched out your bathroom pad. It’s clean. My biggest worry is your treats. Braxton, I only want to make it through one year. Aunt Carolina Bound’s not Happy. Neither am I, but that’s the standard. It’s getting around NaNoWriMo season, and now I do have a writing idea. The first has nothing to do with you, really. Well, more like Bastian Barks Bennett. This is a conversation for Sophia, but you’re here.

I’m sitting at the dining room table, imagining you’ll get off your pillow and direct me to the door. Anyway, my first idea. You know how I thought I’d finished my Cherry trilogy. Killed her the first one, killed you in the last one. I’m starting to think VR and robots. Now my second idea, and Braxton, you have to forgive me for this. I talk about you replacing Cerberus in Hell. What kind of Daddy imagines his son going to Hell? So I’m thinking about Drive Angry, how Milton described it. Braxton, watching my fuck-ups. Would you come back and save me, or would you let me have your wrath? I’d understand both. Hope I’m writing before you see this. Rereading A’s And B’s

“You know the pain and suffering ain’t the worse part, right? That’s what they tell ya, what they want you to believe. But it’s all a big fuckin lie. Nosir, worst part’s the goddamn video feed.”

“It ain’t about the fire and brimstone. Ain’t about your suffering. It’s about the suffering of them you love. Cuz you see it. You see it all. In full goddamn detail. And there ain’t nothin you can do about it.” ― Drive Angry (2011)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 118 ~Dad Of A B~

Didn’t I get promoted at some point? Thursday, I’ll know if I was a child that was lied to about Christmas morning. $12.00 an hour I should be ashamed, or that I’m paying Love Wolf how much? It was different when I was working for B III. “Dad Of A B”

Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Chronicle 118 ~Dad Of A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but none of that would bring life or, being specific, Braxton back. The same old regret

Braxton was/is a better man than me, and as I’ve said, what’s the best part of manhood? Fatherhood. Waking up at 37, mourning a son gone 269 Days, knowing you’ll never have another fur-baby or human. For my failures, Braxton would’ve been a good dad. Hell, he made a man out of me. I once thought that’s what women are for. Did I offend anyone? No more than myself with Humiliations Galore this week, but we’ll get to that. I should have let Braxton breed. I could have gotten a free puppy. Being a granddad? Braxton was terrified of girls, well, furry girls because he was so in love with Carolina Bound’s Yabbos. If you’re wondering where I’ve been this morning. Yeah, it’s Yabbos related.

But wait, didn’t I say I’m AHEM “determined to live a life of abstinence—no partying, no women, no nothing.” Thank you, Monique Moreau. Yet I’m still drooling over M Anime, Cherry, “LL,” a paid subscription to Love Wolf… Less ashamed of that than yesterday. Inspector, where are my “huge cojones, well other than OnlyFans, of course. So yesterday, the truck supervisor left for some emergency. This dude younger than me, who’s worked for fewer years than me, takes over the truck crew. And I let him. No fight, nothing. Inspector Echo, I want to run a brothel one day. I’m reading about some guy’s harem this week, “Dystopian Girls 2.” I call myself a Dominant, but I am no leader of men. The truth.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNgVFY-xZLc

When I was in the Navy for a “couple” of weeks, I couldn’t do a damn thing by myself. Even now, when something goes wrong, I have to go running to my “father” for help. Keeping Braxton alive, though, once we were out on our own. Well, the ending result. Braxton, my little B, B III, “my eldest son, heir to my throne, defender of my kingdom,” is gone. In a way, he’s lucky to be free of this place. That he does not have to watch, his father fall. Yup, that’s a bit from Troy (2004). Anyway, B does watch, and that’s my shame. It’s all that’s holding me together. Because people, seeing me. Seeing myself, I’m my son’s daddy. Dad Of A B.

269 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will