Tag: Life

Chronicle 097 ~Braxton Promises To Pray~

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With my paws, I promise to walk beside you. To stand against any and all who come against us. To let you know where I am. But don’t touch them. I hate when God or his servants attempt to force my hand too. But the Day Job? “Braxton Promises To Pray.”

Wednesday, October 6, 2021

Chronicle 097 ~Braxton Promises To Pray~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but that’s not enough to see one’s true paradise, the right person, or my puppy now.

Yet on this Sunday, writing about Wednesday, as I play prophet. The humiliations, Inspector Echo, are getting worse. A revelation I’ve had of late sigh. When I was constantly worrying about Braxton, as long as he was okay… Well, life was Hell, so I believed. Inspector, these days, whenever I pray for strength, guidance, will. I always direct those whispers towards Braxton. Except for the Day Job. I continue to pop my wrists with a rubber band when I allow fear to guide my steps. Surprised my hands remain, Inspector. With all the work I’ve been doing today. Is that what I call it, talking to the Man in the Mirror. I was talking about a wedding band. Then my time out of the shower.

“Stuff And Thangs?” What I wouldn’t give to see a few $100’s, some $1,000’s appear in my wallet. B III wouldn’t understand money but anything that stopped me from leaving. I’m far less ashamed of being naked than whatever I’ve been doing this week. Hell, this Wednesday cannot be worse than the “Wednesday.” I remember B crying. As for me? You know I have never liked the terms owner, master, and the like. Someone wrote that dogs think they’re people; cats believe they are gods. Or even dogs think people are gods. Braxton never asked me to save him, only to hold him and bring him home. I couldn’t even do that. At least not in the way he wanted anymore. I wonder what B believed in. In me alone?

Braxton was blessed with paws, not hands, and he didn’t appreciate me touching them. Braxton is supposed to be beside me at times like these. These hands for petting Braxton. Inspector, I am ashamed I can’t do that anymore. Doesn’t that make today seem better? How I like to think Braxton was/is optimistic. At least he was/is good at pretending. Daddy needs only to return, and regardless of what happened, he would make it better. Echo, I gave him a treat before I left as I can’t stand lies, even for the love of Braxton. I still pray for him whenever I go. Does he watch over me? Even when I was no longer a monk. Doing whatever Day Job wise. Braxton Promises To Pray

248 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 096 ~Something New, Something B~

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I want to say that dogs are much easier than women. With B, until his dying day, it was “Get in the car, Braxton.” How much of that is offensive, if any? Anyway, he was mine the moment my Olds moved. “Something New, Something B,” Not looking for love

Tuesday, October 5, 2021

Chronicle 096 ~Something New, Something B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but this isn’t Futurama. Of the Pop Culture I’m into, this isn’t one. But “Seymour Asses?”

No, I’m not talking about work. As much as I would like to show you all that I do… Hell, I know you like it. I’m more of a Dennis Hof and his dog Domino sort of guy, Baby Girl. Only, Love my heart hasn’t been anywhere near my business in quite some time 247 Day. Braxton’s death, I know. How many dogs do I know that have met their end some way? Braxton wasn’t any dog. He’s My Son. Fifteen years. Longer than the despised Day Job. My love, longer than I’ve known you, which isn’t the smartest thing to say, honest. Dearest, are you going to go out and get a new husband? Okay, so I’m sounding like an ass at the moment, but what else is new?

Nothing else. Every Saturday, I walk into PetSmart and realize I’m a selfish bastard. One who walked out without his son on January 31st. Hate, Stupidity, Fear, even more. Even when getting pet emails too. There’s no room for more paperwork or new dog treats. Braxton’s are running out. Some new collar, leash, bedding. Hell B III’s room remains B III’s room. Braxton’s home exists. I don’t want to go back to mowing the lawn, so there’s a play area. Um, I do it for our kids, but they aren’t running the length of the fence barking at any neighbors. Uh, how do I know? Me leaving my Study would be something new. I left my Olds a new man, a father. I walked from the altar with you. Somethings.

Someone, my Little B, isn’t replaceable. You Baby Doll, our family, I’m hoping myself In Your Eyes. I can’t imagine another woman walking towards me to be my wife ever. Humans are what we are. Yeah, I look for my phone how many times a day and to get a new one. I remember panicking when I thought I had lost my pendant with Braxton’s ashes. The same with taking off a wedding band. What kind of man does that? Somethings mean forever or darling the feelings behind them. Love You and Me always and forever. Happiness and grief; before Braxton died, I would say the heart gets bigger. Without him, it’s like love’s bleeding out. I need more or healing. Something New, Something B

247 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 095 ~Knocking, Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots~

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I’ll show you a door; you’re the one who has to walk through. I’d tell B I’d never leave for the Day Job again. I hate that door; B hated car doors. Did he know neither of us would look at the front door the same? Knocking Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots

Monday, October 4, 2021

Chronicle 095 ~Knocking, Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots~

Two-Hundred And Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford one of those RING doorbells. Only people knocking here want my money.

Hell, the only doors I’m knocking on are for places I don’t want to be. Well, if you’re destined for Hell, you might as well get there early. You know I hate the crowds, Madam. I got the sins, no doubt. Yet the fact we’re here now J, on the 2nd ha-ha. Sigh Time Travel. That’s sort of what the Den has become. My Time Machine. I ain’t the smartest man (not STUPID). But working the thermostat, managing money, being a good Daddy. The Den is the warmest room in the house with the door closed. Today I miss Braxton’s scratching. I only shut it when he was here because I was mad. Otherwise, with his warmth… Cold, what Cold? I can’t feel a thing.

Hell, I deserve to get sick. I remember sitting there, my feet frozen in place and at the same time beating a path straight to Hell. As the needles took B; disease, vaccine, rejected me. So I won’t get COVID; for once, I was hoping the Republicans were right, and I would die. It’s not like I’m getting laid anytime soon. Knocking boots, as the kids would say. I don’t wear them or anything else, considering what I’m doing. I did have dreams of being a porn star once upon a time. For right now, I want to stay behind closed doors in the Den. Here I am, though, talking to you today because of all the knocking I’ll do. That I’ve done already, Madam.

Edward Norton kicked his own ass in Fight Club. Ain’t that something, Madam. I forgot knocking heads, and somehow the ASM reminds me every time I see his fucking face. Only I never grew into a violent person except against myself. I skipped all the self-harm and went right to, let’s say, the heart of the matter. Even that I fucked up. As for fighting? Every day I’m and out for the count. Not today because I was talking to Lady Lu about a lack of sleep being punishment. We’ll see how long this lasts. Not to Sunday the 3rd. Promises and a Penis take finessing too. Pardon my language today. Am I good at any of this? Opening doors? Knocking Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots

246 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 094 ~Someday B It Sunday~

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Sunday was his last day. A case of the Mondays. Taco Tuesday, do they still have nacho fries? Hump Day. Thursday, I knew he was sick. Working for the weekend. Saturday night’s not alright and repeat. Hell is repetition. Someday B It Sunday.

Sunday, October 3, 2021

Chronicle 094 ~Someday B It Sunday~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you could be too but not today. Monday would help because I’m not going to be.

If it’s any consolation, I did get more work done yesterday, despite all my tears. I’m sorry I chased Carolina Bound off (for the moment…). Hell, I apologize for using M Anime as an excuse. If I paid as much attention to Braxton as I did Books, Boobs, and Bedrooms. Tell you what, I am proud that here you are on another Off Day at 4:00 AM. Not the floor. How bad do you want to take yourself back to bed… not involving OnlyFans mischief? Do you have what it takes to go to the dining room when the time comes; B III’s meds? How many Sundays has it been? In Days, it’s been 245. The worse part of a year for Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Connected Souls (Short)
    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
    Failed (Day 001 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

I told you I wouldn’t be of much help. To help yourself when you couldn’t do anything for your son. I swear Sundays are cursed days. Tupac wrote, “cause even our birthdays is cursed days.” On that note, you hate E-Day. Braxton had Feb 13th, but dying on a Sunday. Sunday always meant church, threats from your father. Awaiting all the horrors that were to come during the week. B III’s dead. Anything that happens this week can’t top that. The Walking Dead is coming on tonight; wrestling sometimes. With how I felt last night (Carolina Reaper Wings…). Today you’re doing pretty damn awesome physically. Only you’ll be back to routine but didn’t Stephen King say, that’s what Hell is, repetition, plus Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Succubus 7 Fairy Tale ― A LitRPG Series
  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 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

The sad thing is it could be worse… Um no? Thinking such a thing always looks like a step towards Acceptance. Nothing is worse than Braxton being gone. Another life? Every week is filled with, as always, Humiliations Galore. Hell, the highlights include praying if there is a God that you don’t wake up. Fast food might kill you. Sleeping. Saturdays are always about betrayal. I told Carolina Bound about her boys Thor and Loki getting bigger, growing up without a home. This house isn’t home. Not without B III. Sundays though, fuck, you have so many girls to talk to because this week is going to suck. Listen to your motivations, but you know like Fallout, War, War Never Changes. Someday B It Sunday

245 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 093 ~B III Of Time~

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Time is pretty damn valuable, and B III knew it. It’s why he sat on my head so I would have to get some air. He used his 8 ― 10 lbs. of weight to make me get up and walk. Now I have all the time in the world to think about those times. B III Of Time.

Saturday, October 2, 2021

Chronicle 093 ~B III Of Time~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if it wasn’t for Yesterday. To think I’m always worried about tomorrow.

In five minutes, the world is going to end. I know I gave up that theory at some point. Hell, I watched the world end on January 31st, at around 3:30 PM ― 4:00 PM. I’d like to think that’s when Fear died as well. My greatest crime, that pain, there is nothing like it. To be frozen in time, to be dead as B is dead. It has now been 244 days, and I have not moved from that moment. Yes, I am repeating myself in the fact that my darkest sin is Treachery. And so I reside in that level of Hell. Yet my betrayal continues, Lady Lunalesca. Forgive Me…

“Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’, into the future” Fly Like An Eagle

Hell, I’ve been asking for it for 37 Years and going on 25 Days. How close am I to playing like a Christian? I ain’t asking God because I take my own lumps. If I’ve been guilty since the day I was born? If the sins of the fathers are returned on the sons, B III rests in a box. You must be asking what is bringing all of this out of me today. I woke up at 4:00 AM. Today is Saturday, of course, which means I have to leave the house. Petting Fur-Babies? It could be the fact Lunalesca, I have wasted this whole week, continue singing Yesterday. I was deader then. It’s like when the ASM awoke my anger, making me feel.

Now I’m gaining new routines. That’s Fur-Babies, Groceries, and Street Tacos. And with it all? How I wish I wasn’t so damn tired. Now that would be some Hell. I should lie by B’s bed. Yeah, I wasn’t sleeping at all then. So why can’t I promise to do that? For B III, Lady Lu. Imagining the heinous horrors and humiliations that await me next week. And there will be several. I continue to blame myself for what happened, but I didn’t hate my Day Job so much. A former manager asked why I didn’t quit. If I did, I’d join B III much quicker. But I still see him from Yesterday and now, even tomorrow. Braxton remains Always And Forever. B III Of Time

244 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 092 ~A B Fitting Title~

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Truth, Life, Braxton, Denial, Father, Dog, Man, Knowledge, Lady Sophia, Chronicle, Story, Writer, Will Bradford Jr., Marquis De Joker, History, The End, Women, Pain, Dæmon, Guilt, Books, 243, Better Worlds, Titles, NaNoWriMo

Friday, October 1, 2021

Chronicle 092 ~A B Fitting Title~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but people wouldn’t say, “Hey, it’s the billionaire.” Never call me STUPID again, for damn sure.

Braxton didn’t call me anything, but he did call. I guess as the song goes, “Tonight I Wanna Cry,” or this morning at least. I got up on time for once and made the bed to avoid temptation. Hell, things that get me going… fear of the Day Job, a pretty girl, a sick dog. A Step Towards Humiliations Galore, Getting Right To The Point, The Man With The Floorplan. I’ve never been good with book titles, or how about novel writing in general, Lady Sophia? NaNoWriMo officially begins November so resorting to cheating, right? Yeah, have I forgotten my laziness? Or is this procrastination with a three-hour head start that I got this morning? Again, there’s making the bed, a Pop-Tart, pictures, and Goodreads.

Everything to avoid talking to Monsieur B, 243 Days Ago. In his book “My Turn To B III,” I said all his titles. And how he came running, right up until the end. Then I was the one that followed him but not into the dark. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, the farm, so on. Lady Sophia, I also wrote about all his jobs. Anything to talk about how tired I always am. Even now, or the aftermath of again avoiding a sad story. I finished Connected Souls, yesterday which only leaves a dirty book to read. I swear no Succubus, Dragon, or Pokémon could ever match The Wee Little Puppy Man I let down. B was/is my hero. Even better, Braxton Is Legend. And Love…

Oh, so should I add Plagiarism to my list of crimes. Every time I speak to you, Lady Sophia, any of the girls, Braxton, or the man in the mirror. Hemmingway or my other app tells me to shut up. Braxton never did, but I know that he appreciates fine literature. Sophia, that, if anything, is a reason to keep writing. Should I be selfish and mention my bank account? For now, I need a title for my next novel. To be fair, I could use an entire idea. So could the WWE, too, when it comes to stories of champions. Billionaire, Hero, Champion, Legend… I want to be Daddy again but not to any fur baby. My Pancake, my Braxton. A B Fitting Title

243 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 091 ~To Be Patient B~

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Be patient, and I will find a cure, acceptance, salvation, forgetfulness, whatever. Yep, ASM, I still say whatever. I’m a sick puppy, or I had a sick puppy 242 Days ago. And now I’m insane in the membrane, as we said once? To Be Patient B.

Thursday, September 30, 2021

Chronicle 091 ~To Be Patient B~

242 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine is only beginning, and I’m already sick of it. Give me five more minutes.

Patient Daddy, but I’d be lying if I said I was sick like that. You saw me through the first year of COVID; I haven’t lost anyone because of it. I lost you this year, fucking insane. I’m glad you can’t repeat the things I say. Ain’t that a question. Can dogs talk in Heaven? Will I ever get to see you, B III? Hell, I’m making a mess over one of your would-be moms. Tell Millie “Sup” if you get a chance. I’m sure the last thing you want to do is spend all day in bed like your Old Man. I’m sick of feeling this way. I’m not talking about missing you; I mean being lazy. I got a good seven hours and still went back to sleep.

Patient B, that’s something I would never call you. If I brought fries home, you would be a real pain in the ass. No wonder I’m trying to exorcise you. Told you I’m sick, Braxton. While I was busy not telling you that B III, let’s see. Um, I did icky things I wouldn’t let you see. I got my affairs in order, but I’m not dead yet. Then comes the food I can’t share, B. I told you before about choosing Onion Rings vs. Fries, hmm? How about Chocolate vs. Sour Gummies? Here I worried about those things killing you, but it was hatred. Hatred is a sickness, but is patience a real virtue?

Patience in wanting to join you? I haven’t seen your grandpa in a minute; the Day Job only brings me more hate. I hate myself, sorry? B, now you weren’t a cure but a medication. Sometimes you could be distracting, but considering the work, I got done with you around. Hell, my last novel is most of these letters and the one before… Zombified daddy. The more I sleep, the less I think about a more permanent solution. Considering the books get busy living and B, you know the rest. You had so much more living to do, my friend. I failed you in that. Is love the cure for hate? More like warring with myself, and what have I created? Your book, for love, NaNoWriMo? To Be Patient B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 090 ~2B Or Not To~

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A great man once wrote, to be or not to be. I’m nowhere near, not even good, and who would ever think I’m alright? Carolina Bound or M Anime? I do worry what B III thinks of me, wherever he is now. 2B Or Not To

Wednesday, September 29, 2021

Chronicle 090 ~2B Or Not To~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. That’s like saying Braxton is alive. I own a brothel, and I’m married to NieR’s 2B.

Carla Valenti

We’ll get into that soon enough. Forgive me, Inspector Echo, for I have sinned. If I hadn’t given you Carla Valenti’s form from Indigo Prophecy, you would be a nun. I had a thing for holy women once “ahem” do (M Anime). Anyway, I should try to regain my holiness. But I have the spirit of fear when it comes to tagging up the shoes at my fucking Day Job. I refuse to speak my mind there. Anytime I find myself lying, that’s only Acceptance. Yesterday the Stupidity I showed was libel to get someone hurt, and I was corrected. Inspector, I find myself breaking Rule 002 You Are Not A Caveman. What’s Rule 001? Dammit, these may not seem like violations but killing Braxton…

If anything, that is the one crime I know I will never surpass. As always, Braxton remains the constant. So what took me so long getting back to you, considering it is now 9:40 AM? Routine, Tradition, the Usual, another day? I would have gotten up because of B III. Braxton would take his medication first because the meds made him into a fire hydrant. Then we would walk. Depending on my laziness, we would eat breakfast, Braxton and me. Today, there was his water and his treat in Remembrance. I fixed a Pop-Tart and a cappuccino. Oh yeah, then I had to get all sorts of crazy ideas for “Stuff And Thangs.” Of course, you know how that goes. I wouldn’t have dared before.

When I’m not Braxton’s Daddy, who am I? The people at Petsmart have stopped offering. I pet fur babies, but I can’t bring one home. To be a Dad again because I’m no model, ha. I don’t want to be, Inspector, you know. I woke up at 4:00 AM and shut my eyes. It hurts. Dangerous thoughts, but then there are moments. There are always several for B, my son. There are productive times. Not that I’m counting today sitting in bed or kitchen nakedness. I’ve been saying it, sitting in the Den with the door closed, believing Braxton’s back? Inspector, he wouldn’t be happy with me, slacking off reading. None of it’s Shakespeare but better than Playboy. Awake and Alive? 2B Or Not To

241 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 089 ~When B Isn’t B~

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I’m getting the hang of closing myself off in the Den. I can’t stay in bed all day (dammit). I’ve started hanging up Braxton’s hoody in his room. Let me hang out in there for too long, and B will be for breakdown, amongst other things. When B Isn’t B

Tuesday, September 28, 2021

Chronicle 089 ~When B Isn’t B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but if I wasn’t? B is for Braxton or books. How about beds. Damn Blue’s Clues.

What about Sesame Street? But it was Blue’s Clues that was in the news a week or so ago, right. What kind of man am I? A few weeks back, I was talking to M Anime, and she spoke about ALPHA men. You know me being one for Tradition. And yet I’ve cried 240 Days. I’m like one of the children crying over books like The Red Collar, Connected Souls. There’s worse, Baby Girl. I’m some Fan Geek “reading” over, Succubus 7 Fairy Tale, yep. Oh, and I did finish The Handmaid’s Tale. Turns out there wasn’t some “authoritarian” word. Remember I told you I figured there was some manly title for Commander Waterford’s office. My Study, being a man. Such things to figure out.

Only as I’ve said, my Study isn’t, only books. I feel Stupid (thanks, Matchbox Twenty). Today or how many days… I’ve been living, The Truman Show. “You can’t stand me.” Yes, that’s me, I don’t know, not projecting, but Thinking Out Loud. And sleeping helps. I’ve had a revelation of why I’m so tired. Well, okay, one reason and haven’t I always been a “man of leisure?” Anyway, I don’t think I ever got up off the floor when I was lying with Braxton. For Braxton’s last days while I was writing, I lifted him to the bed with me. Hell, I barely slept when I was beside him on the floor. Now even though the sheets are clean, he’s there. Space In Between Us

That’s my boy, my B. Even now, I can’t say he was. I’m sure I’ve slipped up here or there. Even at the old Day Job, the phrase “another day.” There will never be “another day” if I can avoid it. Every day should be unique. Not only for breathing purposes. What comes after? A beautiful wife, a big family, my billions, I mean ours. Before all that? Before there was Braxton. Before I can accept what has happened. That will never happen. It took Edmond thirteen years to get off the prison floor. For “The Fallen,” it was a year. Living in my Study with books and bites of movies. I’m a boy missing my boy. Not my wife’s bosom? When B Isn’t B.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0N3Mfn3V0g

240 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 088 ~Live Like God’s Running Late~

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I’m NOT a Believer, but with people nowadays? If the Force was an actual religion (I heard it is in places), I would be right there for it. If my Braxton was not the word of God, then God never spoke (from The Road). Live Like God’s Running Late

Monday, September 27, 2021

Chronicle 088 ~Live Like God’s Running Late~

Two-Hundred And Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m going to Hell. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk, Richard Branson joined.

Now wasn’t that rude of me. To imagine how many dogs they killed? Hell, the only reason Justice that you’re being dreamed, deferred, denied, and a dozen other D-Words is this. God is running late. He, she, or it does not exist? Again, I continue to go back and forth. Now Braxton lived up to this rule. If I had any chance of getting to Paradise, B III was it. As I was busy not being a monk Sunday, I thought back to the 161 days I deemed myself “good.” Braxton gave me those. Now 239 days in without my fur baby turned angel, dammit. Madam, I’m starting with the “Man In The Mirror” today. Did I mean for that to be inspirational? More fighting.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life ― John 3:16

“All I know is the child is my warrant and if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke” ― The Man, The Road

I hate that guy more than my Old Man. I’m Thirty-Seven, and with as much shit as I talk about my Olds, I would be out on the street without them. That’s an argument for there being a God. Braxton was the word of God, and you know what he said. I love you, yeah. No talk of him running late. Or was it the fact that he tried for fifteen years, a month shy of his sweet sixteen? I don’t blame him for leaving. There’s only so much he can do. Look at the man Braxton had to deal with. No, I don’t mean Onlyfans… unless? Yep, I’m stupid. I still hate that word. A word, the world. Without my B, taking an L.

I’m going to Hell. Ha, at times, I forget I’m already there. So be it for Wrath, Lust, or Sloth. My circles of choice would be between Lust, Anger, and yes, my greatest sin, Treachery. That’s what Acceptance is to me, Madam. That’s why I await God for my damnation. Please, aren’t I living it? At some point this week, things will be worse as I read my Day Job schedule. Oh, and while I’m on the subject of reading, which do you think is worse; “Connected Souls” (Dogs) or “Succubus 7: Fairy Tale.” All the time in the world to read and why shouldn’t I. 52 books in a year like I’m Bill Gates. Love, no but fucking-up to Live Like God’s Running Late.

239 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will