Tag: Love

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

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If I could’ve, I would’ve held my breath forever the moment B took his last. The will to live, yup. It was strong with him, too, if I hadn’t stopped it. That’s the problem. People telling me what I don’t want to hear, but B. Take A Breath Braxton, um

Thursday, December 16, 2021

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

319 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I know it’s late… 6:30 PM but you should look in on your Grandma, B.

It’s her birthday, B III, and you’ll have more of a chance to see her than me. Well, I’m being a selfish asshole, aren’t I? My interactions with her today equate to two beeps. Sending her a text and getting one back. Another reason dogs were given paws, not fingers. Braxton, I can also say this is why you were given barks, not words. I have heard talking dogs. But no matter you were the best B, always and forever. Um, you would make too much goddamn sense if you had words. Pardon my language, Day Job, and well… Humiliations Galore again. So yeah, I stuffed my face and took a nap. But do I want to talk about it, B III? How about no.

Oh, gasp, shocker, relax B. You did what my Olds couldn’t do for years. If I ever talked to them about my day? I wanted to stop breathing. You know what I mean. There was that time I didn’t eat and fell out on the floor, and you went and got them. Keep me breathing. That’s what you did, B III. You kept me breathing even when I didn’t want to. It’s getting harder to do these days. Yeah, without my tunes, I have too much time to think. Hell, for a while, I had an earworm to that song “Fly Me To The Moon.” You liked my singing B. “Now I didn’t say that,” you’d give me that look. Again allow my selfishness B.

If you had one more breath to give, I’d ask you, spend it with me and not your grandma. When I had those arguments in my head at the Day Job, I wanted to say this. “At least when my son makes a noise, he’s helping me out. You can shut the fuck up!” Language, I know B III. I’m sorry. Anger is more useful than despair, I heard somewhere. The lady in Shoes was dicking around with me today. Pitying me by giving me a Christmas card. Worse, she was “proselytizing.” It took me some time to find that word. Anyway, between that and The Christmas Nanny, Tess being all alone. Yeah, B III if you can get here somehow. Take A Breath Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 166 ~Heard “See B” Radio~

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What do I do for fun or in my spare time? I’m no billionaire yet, but I’m all for space, particularly Star Wars. I’m still waiting for The Walking Dead but not Madison… wait, what? And finding time to cry out my lost boy, a hobby. Heard “See B” Radio

Tuesday, December 14, 2021

Chronicle 166 ~Heard “See B” Radio~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. This means I have walls dedicated to Star Wars, The Walking Dead, my family, and Braxton.

Of course, B is family, but it was us against the world for the longest time. B III was/is/always all I got. Don’t let my Olds hear me say that, or you. It’s not like I’m going home for Christmas. No, My Love, I am home with you, with our kids, and their hobbies. You know I’m one for thorough research on anything and everything. No wonder this time of the year makes us feel young again. It’s also why I’ll try to get them into things I know a lot about or something I hope will help them along the way in life. Yes, I hope. I thought I wanted our daughter to study a form of Martial Arts the other day. This world.

Do you know that Christmas song Run Rudolph Run? A little baby doll, electric guitar? To this day, I will never forget the actual Hell that was my Old Day Job but not the point. Love, um, if they like a doll or guitar, we’ll make it work, but I want more for them always. I wasn’t trying to sound all “woke.” I’ve been thinking that plenty. You also know I’m not one for politics. If anything, I have a conscience, morals, considering my “business.” You’re also not a Republican, so I can ask you what you want for Christmas. I’m sure you’re thinking you want your husband back. “And how I used to be…me,” as the song goes. When grief wasn’t my full-time hobby.

Books are better, wouldn’t you say? It was last week or so. I finished my 52 books for the year. Is that why I looked up “The Gift of the Magi” by O. Henry today? I can’t give you back the man I was. And I have your love, that of our kids, but there will always B a hole. Ok, so that’s a hobby I should give up, terrible puns of sorts, I guess. How about the music I rely on? Even now, I can’t help hating on the shithole that was my former Day Job. Yeah, all the things I need to give up, at least for the holidays, like swearing. Someday Love. Someone You Loved, you still do? Heard “See B” Radio

317 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

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Not to get all racial or woke, but I’m the black workhorse at my Day Job, um mule. My manager is black, but the CEO is a white lady. So when’s the last time I made a real choice? Only me? Braxton’s death? “Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing.”

Monday, December 13, 2021

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

Two-Hundred and Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I answer to no one. Well, shareholders, if I’m in business. But to be God…

I’m a BELIEVER… NOT. Only I know why men made God in their own image and not vice versa. A white man, giving brown people orders. The same guy, trying to save the Jewish people from themselves. And who takes credit for everything. America, America. Hell, thinking is hard work. This is why most people tend not to do it. A long time ago (a couple of weeks), I didn’t. I could pump my ears full of music or listen to people speak of imaginary worlds. Obeying my “superiors” was easy. Without this J? RAGE!!! Every day I become more and more of a Republican. Not in ideology but in practice. When you disagree… it feels like dying or killing.

Dangerous words, I know, Madam. Now Braxton was the best boss I ever had. “Then you’ll find your servant is your master,” as the song goes. I swear I became a savant of his doggie language. A soldier, faithful and loyal. A sling, carrying him around, my son B III. When he stopped breathing, I swear I stopped too. Who was in charge? It’s like that episode of The Twilight Zone circa 2002 “The Path.” Braxton could read me, and through him AHEM, “I believe I can see the future.” I did what was needed to keep us going, J. Now what’s left to me now is the breathing, and you know how I am about that most days. I don’t want to, I’m afraid to, it hurts a lot.

But I’m in charge. Stupid me beats out my manager, managing Olds, pairs of mammaries. We, of course, know that’s a lie because I’ll be going back to my Day Job at some point, Madam. If anything, I must obey my Olds, or I’m homeless a loser at thirty-seven, Madam. Mammaries, Yabbos, Tits, you ask me why I’m sitting here naked planning on working on my Stuff And Thangs today. Did I, honest to God, believe; I was going to be an OnlyFans star? Nope but that’s what I get for listening to one head instead of the other, Madam. Once I read everything is about sex, but sex is about power. Our ultimate obedience is to power, not life. Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing

316 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 164 ~B-Plus, B-Minus, Just B~

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How to be positive. I remember walking B III and some animal coming close and B wanting me to pick him up. A part of me had to be ready for war, and another had to tell him we’d be ok. When it was people, it was his turn. B-Plus, B Minus, Just B

Sunday, December 12, 2021

Chronicle 164 ~B-Plus, B-Minus, Just B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, while you’re only hoping to get through the day. Please don’t go manifesting the worst-case scenario. Again?

One of my favorite stories and yours is The Scorpion and The Toad. We’ll get to that. You know how your motivations speak about being grateful. To start each and every day with gratitude. What was the first thing that came to mind when you got up? I mean, for real. There’s the fact that you were hard as a rock, but the bedsheets remain immaculate. Braxton’s “memorial,” “tribute,” is it “routine” continued as scheduled, flawless. Impossible, but you will be getting out of bed today to go somewhere. Doggies, B-Dubs. Already you’re thinking of all the negatives. You’re not fucking for real. You’re almost out of treats for B III. The bag in his drawer is empty. And Sunday is the worst day now.

See, with everything going on in your mind. You’re forgetting about those Six Impossible Things. Yet you will keep on moving. Here’s a question. What’s the difference between a B-Plus and a B-Minus? How about B positive blood and B negative. You’re a D student. Speaking of which, that’s what you’re always thinking with, you’re D. A sad world, hmm? You’re about to spend more money you shouldn’t, on what. Hot sauce, fast food, Yabbos. The fact that yet again a week has gone by and what have I done? What will you do now? If anything, you need to get up and start getting ready to head out. And so what if you came back with a friend, woman, or dog. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Succubus Christmas Special (LitRpg)
    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 017 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 024 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

They will still be here no matter what. This leads me back into the story. I’m sure sometime this week, I talked about those saying love yourself first. To be happy because that’s no one else’s responsibility. All my fuck ups aren’t yours, and yet you will. What am I doing, time-traveling again? No, today is Sunday, and this week you will be exhausted from the Day Job when you talk to the girls. I’m suggesting that you can’t change who you are. If anything, I can only wish you the best of luck. Not jailed, fired, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading The Christmas Nanny by Elizabeth Kelly
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums (A Picture Daily)
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 024 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

Things that may come true; Because as far as you being a positive person at some point this week. My friend, B-Plus, B-Minus, Just B.

315 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 163 ~Why I Didn’t B~

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Why I didn’t bring him home, more like why didn’t I bring him back alive but you know I’m one for music and the truth. That is, if I’m not “Manifesting” the worst possible scenario for my life. Not like I’m living or trying. Why I Didn’t B.

Saturday, December 11, 2021

Chronicle 163 ~Why I Didn’t B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but why wasn’t I sooner? Uh, because you’re a fucking lazy ass? Braxton gave that look.

Only what was I talking about last week or the week before? Noticing puppy paws? Besides the paws that were too big, I also saw tails. What dog would be happy seeing the Cheshire cat smiling down on them (My Mask)? Um, only pups deserve a smile, Lady Lu. So why am I still sitting here alone? I’m over the whole “Chase” scenario. I’ll never be over Braxton, but Chase sealed it. It’s a Chihuahua or nothing. I told you I’m a dog snob. Braxton ruined me for other dog breeds, and don’t think about it like that, Lunalesca. Well below losing Braxton and my paranoia. It’s that fucking Mariah Carey song All I Want for Christmas Is You. My answer, my B III alive.

So why didn’t I try harder? Republican tendencies or more like Slave Mentality. Work hard, do what you’re told. Hell, when I’m not at the Day Job, I’m getting myself into so much trouble. One way or another, I will myself into a punishment all for B III, I know. Why didn’t I dream positive thoughts today? That’s not my motivational speeches talking… fucking Day Job. Instagram is trying to pick up the slack, sending me “inspiration” from some rich white guys. Most days, my only motivation is not to get fired from Hell, Lady Lu. Everything “I Rise” for is no damn good for me. That includes my novel, which I haven’t looked at upon completion. NaNoWriMo should kick me out, I swear Lunalesca.

Why I didn’t stop myself from lying. I wanted to win, and I did the 50,000 words ok. I did. Why I didn’t stop myself; from stuffing my face when I came back? Tradition Lunalesca. Why I didn’t live in a way that would make B III proud of me. He would still be alive. Yet the most fucked up thing I’ll say about today is this. I “Don’t Know Why” I didn’t come. Yes, we both know I have a thing for hot brunettes. Michelle Branch, Vanessa Carlton, Norah Jones, Mariah Carey, ha. Anyway, I’m still claiming monk status after what happened this morning. I didn’t come. I didn’t cum. Who am I trying to convince? Hmm. TMI right? Living? Why I Didn’t B

314 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 161 ~Days Ending With B~

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Bad days aren’t going anywhere, and I fooled myself into believing neither was B III. He was always here. No, he is here if you listen to me say goodbye and hello every time I walk in the house. Every day, those Days Ending With B

Thursday, December 9, 2021

Chronicle 161 ~Days Ending With B~

312 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? There would be no fries today, but I could have brought you breakfast. Whataburger chicken?

Breakfast is what I was most looking forward to B III. We aren’t big breakfast guys. I don’t want to get sick at the Day Job, and you would be all “Now My Watch Begins.” Then again, “Pancake” was your nickname. I bought the good bacon and sausage for you. But the “Boys In Blue?” Talk about paranoia B, and I would if you were here. You are here. I keep having to remind myself of that. Then I would keep myself out of trouble. I’m trying B, yup. But the boss man leaves, a call to the office, I swear a cashier said, COP. If anything, I only want to go on my terms. Braxton, my little boy, that choice was made for you.

Blinding myself with tears, I’m sorry. It’s another thing that happens every day, no matter what. This would be twice today. Yesterday I was talking about how I can never stay awake. If I take an afternoon nap, I look to your corner, Braxton, as soon as I wake up. I should be spending bucks on a Cuddle Clone, a tattoo, a chain. I spend it on boobs, Yabbos, and a lack of UK titties. I don’t sleep nude; usually, I told Cherry. Again where’s all my money going? Anyway, I only have to survive another half-day, Braxton, then it’s us. “Whatever, Daddy.” I can hear you now. You’d huff or bark, knowing again I would be sleeping or writing the days away. But together

Being father and son, brothers, best friends. How I miss those days B III. I wish I could remember them more, and it’s not like I’m forgetting. I can’t focus on the Day Job anymore while other people break the rules. I’m getting why you barked at everyone. My world. Breathing in it, though, is getting harder by the day. 312 to be specific. Today I was laying out your treat and realized there are so few left. They might not last another week. I should start another tribute. A picture frame, one for each week. 52 is a lot. Hell, I pay Cherry, order B-dubs, visit PetSmart once a week B. And I love you every day ending in Y. Days Ending With B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 159 ~Happy To B Together~

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Happy, I’ve never been able to define it with all the books I’ve read. Of course, there’s that one moment doing what guys do. I’m sure if I had the billions I seek. If Braxton suddenly found his way back to me. Happy To B Together

Tuesday, December 7, 2021

Chronicle 159 ~Happy To B Together~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and there was a time I believed that would make me happier than anything. B III…

Fur is murder. Those words are never going to sound the same to me ever again. I’ll never buy you a fur coat. You know I feel some sort of way about hunting. Unless we’re talking about “The Most Dangerous Game.” I miss watching movies with you. B between us. Always was, and he will always be. 310 Days and his fur is still everywhere. Not anybody’s fault. Well, ok, mine, seeing as how I hate to lose any little piece of him. I still have a tuft of his fur. I dropped my pendant a few days ago and panicked like people and smartphones. You would think our phones keep us together. For me, it was Braxton and now you. Um, so happy together.

That’s something I will always regret. I wasn’t “happy” with Braxton. Hell, the last time I fibbed about being happy, I was a kid, and my Olds took my sister and me to Walt Disney World. I said I was happy. Well, Love, Disney. Being The Happiest Place On Earth. Finland, I think, has dibs on the reality. Here’s something not looked up, Baby Girl. Individuals that say you have to be happy with yourself. People can’t make you happy. You have to love yourself, accept who you are. I never did anything like such. But B III made me ok. I mean, if he’s A-ok, he’s alive, life is ok, then I’m not doing half bad, I know. Because we’d be together, always, forever.

“I’m not sure. But I always read that you had to be ok with yourself first before you could be ok with another person. Now I feel ok with you. But I don’t know how ok I was with myself before I met you, so maybe you’re making me ok.

You’re not that ok.

Ok.” ― Defending Your Life

It was the promise I made him the very day we had our own place. Then I had to let him go. THEY say it’s the best thing to do. What’s that saying? Let them go, and if they return, then they’re yours forever. The fact that you’re still here. Always and forever. Old soul. I can’t define happy but together. It could mean existing now but loving and living? Together Baby Doll, you and me always, our family. I can’t afford to lose everything. Sometimes, all there is, My Love, is putting one foot in front of the other. B III had his four. Yet, I’m the tired one. And he got eternal rest, my son. To be happy someday. Happy To B Together

310 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 158 ~Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won~

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Pick up your cross peace is found at the lance’s point. Pens are mightier than swords. All I want is to carry my son. A season of peace, but I hate Christmas, like the dude in Succubus Christmas Special. I’ll behave, but Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won

Monday, December 6, 2021

Chronicle 158 ~Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won~

Two-Hundred and Seventeenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that counts as winning. You don’t get “better” than that, as far as I can see.

To be honest, today, I don’t feel like fighting anymore. One more reason I had Braxton. A son shouldn’t fight his father’s battles, but how often will I say this? I’m out for the count, and there he is, watching over me. Braxton’s protection. A toy dog? Toy Soldier. Madam, I’m not wise. So they say, um, grief is love with no place to go. Oh, ok, true enough. The same can be said with rage. My rage is justice that can never be served, but it stays, Madam. I feel like fucking Oceania. That might be a decent stripper name, but I don’t mean it like that. It’s more like George Orwell’s “1984.” The war inside myself is continuous, and I didn’t even start this shit. It’s not fair.

All’s fair in love and war, and I don’t want either. At least I don’t want to be alone, J. As the song goes, “before you start a war, you better know what you’re fighting for.” Again “don’t put your blame on me.” I’m sick of it, and yet I stay. There’s nothing else, Madam. So why not try winning? If anything, why not try fighting at all? Today’s example… Madam, when I was “young,” and of course you know this tale, but I was in the navy a bit. I thought I would find my manhood somehow with serving. Three weeks later… Sigh. Anyway, today, a coworker busted her lip after slipping on the floor. And me being a gentleman… Gotcha, I stayed put.

A good man would have helped her. A brave man wouldn’t have spent all day hiding as the womenfolk went rushing into the rain. After a decade of wasting his life, a real man would be running that place. Yes, I’m fighting a war, Madam, against grief, rage, and fear. Going all Yoda on your ass? Ass, I’ll behave, Madam, Nineteen Days, Cherry, Carolina Bound might be pissed. So here I am, my enemies are known, in a war I never asked for. And if you told me I could stop fighting? Thirty-seven years and at least I ain’t dead. 309 Days without my son, brother-in-arms, and tireless defender. To accept that I can win this without Braxton… UNACCEPTABLE. But Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won.

309 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 157 ~Time To B Wasted~

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I don’t drink… much. If anything, I refer you to “Drunk On You.” A big thanks to Braxton’s Aunt (not my actual sister.) I owe her TWO big thumbs up for keeping me UP a little longer. I went to bed at a reasonable hour though still… “Time To B Wasted”

Sunday, December 5, 2021

Chronicle 157 ~Time To B Wasted~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would say if you listened to your motivations… Hate to tell you, but that’s illegal.

The start of a new week, and you haven’t stopped ranting, raving about “air pods.” Brother, I don’t blame you. No wonder you took a chance to cover your shift. Should have done it yesterday, but that was my own cowardice, my apologies to you. Anyway, if you could listen to your air pods at the Day Job, it would only be to people’s reactions. There’s nothing wrong with that, I know. It’s only the facts these past few days. If not that, then how about crying for your son again. Here you are all dressed up with nowhere to go. You even shaved, and for what? Hell, you counted out $310.00 in your wallet. No doggies at PetSmart. But movement on Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading A Sincere Warning About the Entity in Your Home
    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 011 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 017 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Nope, I was, and indeed you are wasting time. Can you imagine if you added a puppy to the mix? Speaking of mixing, don’t you have shrimp waiting for you in the sink. You have a mouth to feed since even breathing seems to be a time suck. Rather starve? Dammit! If it means going to the Day Job, which seems more and more inevitable. The time is winding down. Again, this is all my fault. Fear, friend, stands as one fucking waste of time. Pardon your language. Meaning to say something else but corrections? Shouldn’t I say erections? Didn’t you start writing at 1:00 PM and now 2:20? Can’t I be proud of you for at least finishing your reading? Not, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Succubus Christmas Special (LitRpg)
  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 017 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

As you never ever have time for them. Or at least that’s what you’ll keep telling yourself. When it comes to getting out of work, you’ll have all the time in the world. Whether it be the Day Job, writing; this conversation we should have. You will always find something. Being a father, though. To be Braxton’s daddy again. I’ll never forget those last days. Every breath he took, there was not a single second taken for granted. Do you recall love doesn’t tell time? Um, when you’re dying? That’s why you’re a stickler timewise. Chronomentrophobia. You fear you have way too much time for THEM. What you have for yourself… wasted. And B III died because he wasn’t given enough. Time To B Wasted

308 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 156 ~B Feet Gives Paws~

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Like father like son, Me and B III like and get annoyed with the same things. We both like boobs and hate feet. Then it came to his paws, and I did everything in my power to protect his and stay on my feet with my horrific Day Job. B Feet Gives Paws.

Saturday, December 4, 2021

Chronicle 156 ~B Feet Gives Paws~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so when I say stuff like that title. No matter what, I’m still pretty damn funny.

Didn’t I say sometime this week I hate being funny? I also hate where my feet lead me somedays. Pretty much my Day Job, PetSmart, and preparing to live my life as such. In other words, errands. So, of course, that’s what I was doing today. Um, after PetSmart Lu. We’ll get to that. But first, a confession. Hell, not even that. A simple fact. I HATE FEET. It’s just the way I am, Lunalesca. Call it a personal preference like having a thing for brunettes, before them Asian women. Or being a breast man. All women have breasts, Lu. Okay, to some degree, at least. Women have feet too. Yet I adore one and hate the other, I swear. Reasons women don’t like me…

So what does this have to do with my son as everything does? Going on 307 days. How about his 15 years of life? Well, this morning, I’m going into PetSmart, and I see this familiar van that carries some of the dogs, I believe. I walk in, but they aren’t at their usual spot. Needless to say, I was pissed, which is my standard mood. But since I look at the kitties too, I keep going. And I hear the dogs barking in the distance. They moved their cages. Anyway, I started my window shopping and then it hit me looking at the smallest. Cinderella, I swear that’s where I heard this Lady Lu but “Your Feet’s Too Big.” Or paws in this instance.

Yes, I can be a fucking snob, shallow, or some sort of messed-up guy. But I looked at those furries, and the moment I saw their paws, it was an instant “NO” from me. One of the ladies said they would have different dogs tomorrow. Recovering Lunalesca, but trying. I do mean from the Day Job. I didn’t have it in me to try and change my shifts today. That’s gross, my weakness, but what isn’t gross are Braxton’s paws. My B’s toesy wosies. He hated me touching them or rushing him to the vet when they said he stepped on a pine cone wrong. I love Chihuahuas, nice Yabbos and B’s nails clicking on hardwood floors. But Feet, no thanks? B Feet Gives Paws.

307 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will