Chronicle 238 ~Learning To B III~

Things I never learned in school, women, money-making, and fatherhood. Geez, that explains a lot of my current predicament. Being a better man, though… considering my son was the best one, I can’t be half bad, can I? Learning To B III.

Thursday, February 24, 2022

Chronicle 238 ~Learning To B III~

389 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how it’s Friday the 18th as I’m writing this… Does time matter, Braxton?

I suppose it was the time I was gone and the time I was here. Those times when I was out cold, and you guarded me. Then I would learn whatever I could imagine, Braxton. Reading, writing, whatever, because I had to know how to build a life for us. Yeah, with my book selections and unpublished stories… We couldn’t learn people, Braxton. I know that there was this big storm last night, the 17th. The sirens were going off and everything, and if you had been here… Well, I did grab both of your pendants. Christianity is not my thing. But I did pray to you to lend me your courage. B III, you are the best man I know, my boy, my pancake.

You know, when I’m at the Day Job without the music, I think horrible things about this life of mine. Well, no, there’s because I’m still waiting for my turn to decide. Damn, the Day Job’s playlist. Anyway, as I said, you were the best man I know. Strange, true? Braxton, the man you became, is a direct reflection of me. If I know you are “The Man,” then I can’t be half bad now, can I. Every Sunday in my Six Impossible Things, you know what I say? I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am. And that’s the rub, isn’t it, Braxton? You could never speak a word of how good I was. Am I giving myself too much credit, B?

Be free to live that way again, hmm? It took me four whole days to make it to our reading spot. And now I’m so focused on you. Which I should have always been. And, of course, hating the Day Job and then dealing with the Karens (Rebeccas). I might be eating grilled cheese, B. If you were here, I would be taking much better care of myself, remember? Inevitable. Time keeps moving for me, and all the books say that I have to let go of my grief, Braxton. Grief feels better than everything else at the moment. But why can’t I be the best man that I know? Braxton, I could recite so many epic movies. But you B… Learning To B III.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

To say to be in love. I haven’t felt that way towards some girl in forever. I’m fond of B’s aunt. M Anime is a friend, then there’s the UK vixen. Better to focus on my son. I love him, and then I was too busy hating. “To Say To B”

Wednesday, February 23, 2022

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but since I’m not writing, so much for soundproof ear muffs. Someone To Say plays on…

It’s no secret how music affects me. Let me mourn my son, think of Yabbos, or fall in love. Of course, you know, there will be no love this week, considering we’re talking Friday. Besides my wayward dick. I haven’t thought about the love of a woman in a long time Inspector. I spoke to Cherry today, and she doesn’t want to get married or have kids. Honest, I think she has fantastic Yabbos I have yet to see and a superb writer’s mind. I’m not ashamed, ok to say such things. How about all the things I want to do to her, Fuck! Hell, I could say that about plenty of girls. But to be in love again. Or to love me, Inspector Echo.

Yeah, I’ve been doing too much of that without Braxton around. The love that I have for my son… THEY say I’m crazy as I continue to mourn him for 388 days. He was/is my family. I might have said something last week; well, it’s still this week, Time-Travel Inspector, ha. Anyway, it’s never a good thing anytime I hear from my “blood” family. Life sucks! Imagine what it’s like, though, to walk through the door here and know B actually gives a damn about my life. He couldn’t say much, but for damn sure, I had a reason to press on every day. Most days now, I only want to pee or cry. Keep my pants on in because it keeps me from bed.

Then we get to the damn Day Job. I can’t say this enough, um, I fucking hate my Day Job. There is nothing I can say there. And the fact that I have to be there. We are talking now. Yes, because the place fucking destroys me, and yet if I were to lose it? What would happen to me, Inspector? I would have nothing. To survive, my existence, nothing. Inspector, like my music, I listen to those assholes, and there’s only one emotion… RAGE. Like any slave, I live to serve. Is this what they call Stockholm Syndrome, Inspector. Humiliations that I will suffer today are nothing compared to…Love. Telling my son, I love him. The Day Job, Fuck Off. To Say To B.

388 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 236 ~But My Soul Man~

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

387 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 235 ~Fitting In Makes You Disappear~

I didn’t fit in with my family, nor did my kid. The whole damn world is one gigantic puzzle, and we never had a place. But lying on the couch, waking up in bed back to back. Anytime, We saw we were different. Fitting In Makes You Disappear.

Monday, February 21, 2022

Chronicle 235 ~Fitting In Makes You Disappear~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Because I swear if I became like everyone at the Day Job? Death couldn’t come fast enough.

If there is one sin that I haven’t committed, it’s wishing to be like everyone else. Call it my Republican tendencies. It could be this sinner’s pride, like my Grandma answered. Dammit, with all my depression, depravity, and daddy grief, I look at people as idiots. When your Dad makes it his life’s goal for you to feel like the stupidest waste of space ever. As girls make you feel like the sleaziest, slimiest, I know there’s another s-word I can’t remember. Am I over it? “Skeevy!” Anyway, when everyone makes you out to be worthless. Hell, out of all that shit, you want air. And that first breath makes you feel on top of the world. You survived, you’re better… than those assholes? Positivity?

Let me get back to normal. For example, from a sexual standpoint, I’m not like most guys. Sure I watch porn, but I also read Erotica. I write dirty books; I don’t lie about desires. There are sex toys in the closet and naughty lingerie for visitors… ha. You can find Yabbos anywhere, and yet I pay for some. Does that make me STUPID? I could use that cash. How many guys have an OnlyFans? Several and I haven’t visited or posted on my page in forever. I don’t know if I ever will again. You know I started months after B left me alone. Because no one sees me. It’s not me fitting in; it’s me wanting to follow Braxton. If only I could?

I can’t keep living this way, you know. I could say that I didn’t know that B and I were a perfect fit. But it was the world around us that seemed incomplete, like a puzzle that loses a piece. Again, I don’t want to be like everyone else. And to even try and pretend… Lots of things to shed tears over today, this Friday. We’re talking now, so this week. Um, this week sucks. And I will never escape unless I get out of this bed and start doing anything. Braxton has faith in me. Which is why he stuck around for so long. I’m sure that’s why he’s so high now, pulling me up from falling into place. Fitting In Makes You Disappear.

386 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 234 ~Forgetfulness Is A B~

Well, it’s been a week since Braxton leveled up, and as far as getting on his level as a man… I guess I forgot so busy dying, and I forgot to do that too, buying “medicine” and chicken noodle soup. And if only I would just… Forgetfulness Is A B.

Sunday, February 20, 2022

Chronicle 234 ~Forgetfulness Is A B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as for you, all your problems are still staring you in the face. Look for yourself.

Balls, do you have them. Not in the way, I would like, you know. I swear, to wake myself up yesterday, didn’t I mention Zoe Colletti? Oh, and while we’re on the subject of TWD.
You wish you could go back to that, being The Walking Dead. Then your dick wouldn’t be getting you into trouble, would it? Inevitable right? Fucking up again, the usual. Language, you need to get back to being… Hell, if I know. 385 days without Braxton, and you ain’t been right since, and what time is it again? Jerking little Willy is the only time there is no time. Everything else might as well be time to suck. Reading, writing, you even spent time watching wrestling but Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Pawprints on our Hearts” Kerk Murray
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Braxton was better than all of them. But what was my excuse? I suppose I could go back peeking away. Only you continue to look back into the past. Where was I a year ago? Betrayal, isn’t it or a sign? While I was reading yesterday, it was all signs. That Braxton would send me a message. You’re wondering, as I did, is it time to switch book genres, right? The authors have also talked about their love lives in my last two reads. While talking about their fur-babies. You have novels galore and were looking at Succubus Lord on Audible. It beats spending what little money you have on pills. Lounging around in bed for all intents and purposes to die. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Return From Rainbow Bridge” Kate McGahan
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Because you made a promise to Braxton. As the song goes, “’Cause we made a promise, we swore we’d always remember. No retreat, baby, no surrender.” If B III is here, then once again, you’re failing him. You have to do something, but who the fuck am I to speak. Language, like that newscaster lady’s report @kaylamariesully on Instagram. Funny as Hell. Again looking towards Eric Vall and all the writers like him writing brothel stories. Wow! Every day, I saw people with fame, fortune, and fucking, language, please ha. Only you forget all that to live this way and then forget your utter failures… Well, Braxton sees you now, punishment, ultimate reward? A life well lived; B III, be him. Forgetfulness Is A B.

385 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 233 ~A Bad Day Again~

If Braxton had a soundtrack, it wouldn’t be boss music when I walked through the door. Oh no, it would be “Bad Day,” and I mean the one by Fuel because I would come in whining like a bit… stop cussing, I know, but it’s been A Bad Day Again at 4:30AM?

Saturday, February 19, 2022

Chronicle 233 ~A Bad Day Again~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means there should be no such thing as a bad day. So it’s 4:30 AM.

Disgusted. Okay, so it’s only me? I hope so, Lunalesca, because sometimes I forget “how lovely you are.” And that’s the damn problem. Me and this fucking wayward dick Lu. Yes, I know I need to stop cussing and, at this rate, stay “home.” You know that’s another word I don’t like, but that’s another story. Right now, the tale should be of me staying. I’m sick, and I know exactly why I’m sick. Hell, it was around last month, and if I need to blame someone besides me. Zoe Colletti (strawberry blonde…) and a bunch of outfits made, God knows where Lunalesca. When I get my cash, what will I spend it on? I don’t want to say “another” day… A Bad Day Again.

Angry and upset with me, that is when I leave. It’s Saturday, so you know what that means, my Lady. You are a Lady, but in my effort to find a friend… bitches, Karens (Rebeccas). The more things change, as THEY say. Or, as the song goes, “I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend.” And I shouldn’t be looking out of anger. Where’d that get B? Lunalesca, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. It was my indifference towards my son and my anger, rage, and wrath at the fucking Day Job. I am hearing Will Smith, I know. Stop cussing, but what else am I supposed to say. I want to rant Lunalesca about A Bad Day Again.

Grief, don’t you see, is always the better alternative. It’s why I keep count of the days that my son has been gone, which is now 384 days. Why aren’t my eyes underwater yet? Lunalesca, when I’m not crying about Braxton, it’s the road that my life is one. Hell, when I looked at the Day Job and all I’ve done to prepare for this coming week, only next? Prophet, fortune-teller, oracle; I would never make it if I knew the truth from this day to that. I cry to keep from seeing it, but I will always know no matter what. As I will always love my boy. Or that I can’t keep my dick in my pants; Because it’s A Bad Day Again.

384 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 231 ~Book It To Heaven~

Lying on the couch reading a book as my son takes a nap… sounds like a hobby. Staying in bed reading about Rainbow Bridge while crying is pathetic. No wonder I haven’t got a whole lot done. “Book It To Heaven.”

Thursday, February 17, 2022

Chronicle 231 ~Book It To Heaven~

382 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I think we could both use a lazy one after this week, don’t you think?

What am I saying? I don’t know how you spend your time well… wherever? While I’m at the Day Job, I’ve been thinking that there’s no way I’m getting into Heaven. And when I go to Hell, Cerberus is out of a job. Would you follow me into such darkness, Braxton? All the books I’ve been reading these days point towards the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Hell, you could be lying right here next to me as I struggle to write this. Indeed, it has been a trial, but I am awake. I expected that I would get some reading done. Stories? Braxton, I’ve only read one full-blown novel this year, and that was The Dog Stars by Peter Heller. Was that a betrayal of you?

It sounds STUPID (eww!) I know we don’t use that word in this house, but it is. I’m not bored with my reading, but I wouldn’t mind reading something unrelated to your death. So what’s stopping me? It’s not like most of the books I read were furry-friendly for real. You know what I mean. If we go back to the start of last year. Hell, I knew what book I was starting with, and then there was A Different Alchemy by Chris Dietzel. A father, mourning the loss of his son… Surprise, Surprise. I believe you died somewhere between Succubus Lord 7 or 8 by Eric Vall. Wow, this is taking a strange turn Triple B. What did I mean to talk about today?

That I should risk reading about my condition on WebMD. Secret: always needing to pee. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you? I should work on writing you, Braxton. Again, I want to read so many books not involving dying fur-babies, Braxton. Only now, I’m still looking at last year’s reading list. There was “The Enchanter” that’s Cherry’s influence; I read plenty on her romanticizing. I finished the Succubus Lord series. I read “A Dog’s Purpose,” which was days after losing you. Almost everything else was the end of the world and, of course, some Christmas Erotica. I read some dog books right before those, B III. To go back to the days reading on the couch, as you slept. Book It To Heaven.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 229 ~By My Old Lady~

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 228 ~Don’t Bother With An Alter-Ego~

Somebody sang I’ve gotta be me. Only I don’t recognize the man I am behind the tears for my son. The masks I wear in the world. Now I like face masks. I mean, whoever I am to function. And then there are the words. Don’t Bother With An Alter-Ego

Monday, February 14, 2022

Chronicle 228 ~Don’t Bother With An Alter-Ego~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can be whoever I want to be. It’s still not enough. B III’s Birthday.

That’s my secret, Madam; I’m always Daddy. Braxton has been gone 379 days. His birthday was yesterday he’s seventeen. Don’t ask me how it went considering I’m time traveling. Right now, it’s Wednesday, February 9, 2022. I’m Braxton’s Daddy regardless. Sure I was twenty minutes late giving him his meds with my sickness. Oh, we’ll get to that, but you’re asking why do I still bother getting up at all. I got dressed, refilled his water bowl, and called him for medicine. This is my secret identity. Fatherhood, Madam. Because I know what I am. Hell, I want to be anybody else. Isn’t there something about everyone else is taken? You can tell that to a grave. Dangerous words Madam, and not a loving mood.

That’s my secret, Madam; I’m always Dead. I wonder how I’m feeling today. Valentine’s Day, ha. You know, somewhat considering I’m talking to you today. I’m tired, humiliated, and fucked-up in so many ways. Again at this particular moment, well, I’m talking to you, Madam. Am I ok, am I? Sickness is a time I’m not hiding who I am. Ok, for the most part. Day Job doesn’t care ever. I doubt the scammers will consider listening in. They only want to steal, and I’m a bad man, I know. Of course, there is always my insanity with Braxton, Madam. I got mental health issues. Never would I say that I look the part of a normal, functioning human being. That’s one more reason I want to be a billionaire.

That’s my secret, Madam; I’m always Horny. Fuck, it’s a damn superpower, but you know the line, with great power comes great… yeah, yeah. Another thing I don’t hide. And look where it got me? Cherry told me to chill. What did I say about M Anime? I’m not right. Hell, if I kept it in my pants more often. Twenty-four hours and I’m still in bed, but I’m dressed. Is this recovery? I guess we’ll see if I’m not fucking around by Monday proper. The truth is, as I said before, I don’t want to be me. But wearing a cape, my cross, the armor of the caped crusader himself. Madam, it gets heavy. A man with nothing to lose or a father. Murderer. Don’t Bother With An Alter-Ego.

379 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 227 ~Birthday Score Of Seventeen~

I don’t remember Leveling Up to seventeen, nor do I want to. If I had my way, Braxton at seventeen would be smooshed between his human siblings and would be thinking. “I’m getting too old for this shit.” But as of today… “Birthday Score Of Seventeen”

Sunday, February 13, 2022

Chronicle 227 ~Birthday Score Of Seventeen~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I don’t need a birthday wish. Now you and the birthday boy? All together now, LIVE!

I knew there was something missing yesterday. Um, clear streets, a new phone case, cappuccino mix, my dignity? Stuff you don’t have to worry about. No, it was some tape. I’m sure there is some around here, but where did the money disappear. Braxton’s gift? Something cheap, you know, as you think the fifteenth or sixteenth; those are the big birthdays? Hell, the only people who remember are the daycare/hotel he stayed in that one time in 2019. Aunt Carolina’s wedding. The third longest time that you and B were ever apart. The second, sigh. Your tears are starting early this morning, and that’s not only because you’re so tired. Today there is no time for that. Hell to be Braxton’s Daddy now, a decent human being. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “It’s Not Putting Me Down It’s Lifting Me Up” Kate McGahan
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 000 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

378 Days to honor Braxton and in the past seven… I know I haven’t done shit. Yesterday I was ready to go off on the KARENS. What’s the song from Tobe Nwigwe? Unfollow Me. It would have been something to save a life. On the day that Braxton was born? You know you’re still unsure this was the day, but it is the one that you chose to honor him, and you know why. Valentine’s day is tomorrow. Braxton was the closest thing to love. Strange that even now, in thinking that again. Do you know how they say God is Love? A Dog is Love. And if Braxton is not the word of God… Anyway, How To Save A Life. Revenge, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Pawprints on our Hearts” Kerk Murray
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You want to walk into PetSmart one day with a life saved and look those KARENS right in the eye. Yeah, you hate me, I hate you, so I found love elsewhere. Revenge, sigh. Not right at all for the seventeen-year-old that you mourn today. Love from love, right? Well, besides buying tape, so you don’t have to sing. I should have bought some cake. Dammit, the only thing I was thinking about was The STUPID Bowl and chicken. And yup, you have that and The Walking Dead and prepping for this week. My Condolences. But today is about Braxton. There’s no cake, missing seventeen candles, no day of dog movies. Nothing but some cheap chew toys and a broken Daddy. Birthday Score Of Seventeen.

378 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will