Chronicle 151 ~Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men~

Docs have diagnosed me with plenty over 37 years. Social Anxiety, Bipolar Depression, Astigmatism (eyes in my head). Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder sigh. The Day Job takes advantage and how I keep a specific collection. Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men

Monday, November 29, 2021

Chronicle 151 ~Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men~

Two-Hundred And Sixteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” But today, “It Is Finished.”

Can I be any more profane, offensive, or STUPID? That’s how I feel about today, J. Can’t I be positive for one whole minute? If I weren’t suffering from a massive case of blue balls at the moment but we’ll get to that. First things first, I’m not lying to NaNoWriMo. That’s right, Madam, for the fifth time, according to the good people at NaNoWriMo, I have completed my 50,000 words. This is the part of the story where I would pick Braxton up and dance. Of course, we’ll get to that too. Right now, my legs are twisted pretzel-like. So I finished “Behave In A Cherry Patch,” so as NaNoWriMo says, Now What? I want all the fucking badges. I can’t stand it, Madam.

Apologies for the language, but I was obsessed with writing my novel and every badge Madam. Come December 1st, I’ll never think about it again until Camp NaNoWriMo. I’ve finished three this year, two camps, and November without my boy. Um, today there was Cherry. Hell, even before her, there was Ariella Ferrera, Yuffie Kisaragi, to say the least. How many times have I wished I could be a regular guy that watches porn? No, I’m one for intimacy, meaning I need everything. Do I need to go over the list again of frightened women? Money though? Every CEO, billionaire, Mafia Don. Whatever money man gets the women in the novels I read. Or a beard and/or a motorcycle. I’m in on some particular Yabbos.

But at least for now, my grief is richer. My promise, my vow to B III. 11 Days right now. It’s been 302 Days without Braxton, though. I believe before, and then when he died, I went 161 Days. B give me strength that I don’t give in to temptation and since I’m done, Madam. Braxton is my obsession. But when he was alive, though, I became indifferent. Obsession leads to trouble, Madam. And it seems, for the most part, my obsession is my own pain. As another song goes, I’m just a sucker for pain. Yeah, fuck you, Hemingway, for dinging the word “just” and the name Grammarly. Oh, there’s the $139.00 you took, Grammarly dammit. Stories, Boobies, Doggies. Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men.

302 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 144 ~Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism~

If I had known the moment I called B and he hopped in the car that this is how it would end? Hell, I do shit all the time knowing that it could come crashing down. Yet my guilt at all that I’ve done hasn’t stopped me… Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism

Monday, November 22, 2021

Chronicle 144 ~Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism~

Two-Hundred And Fifteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I have learned anything from others. There’s no shame, guilt. No need for a conscience.

Mine died 295 Days ago. My soul, my serenity, my son. His Dark Materials put it best, my Dæmon. If I had any reason to stay in line, it was him and now? Well, why do you think I’m calling you so late. Every day I don’t leave this bed, um, every afternoon, I fail. I keep up with Braxton’s treats… what was it a day or so ago? I noticed I missed one. When I leave the house, I keep up the usual banter, and when I return. I’ve had tacos, two days. Hell, Madam, when I don’t bring fries back, I know that I’ve failed Braxton. Daily ritual. When I can’t keep it in my pants because I want to feel something “good.”

Fuck Aria Logan and Cherry, um yes, please if again you’re wondering where I’ve been. Satisfaction? Nope, guilt kept me from coming. It’s the guilt that keeps me from going. Back to bed, that is. Only again, I’m sitting right here knowing I won’t get a wink tonight. Not if I don’t tell you all these horrible things in my life. Losing Braxton, always first. There’s also my nighttime ritual of lying to NaNoWriMo about my progress in writing. What about the Day Job I hate? And yet feel like I failed them, and by God, I did once again. It’s the guilt. I am guilty. And if I told you all my secrets… “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man,” yep.

While I’m busy ripping off songs, “I’m only human after all. Don’t put your blame on me.” While I was reading this evening from “Only Gone From Your Sight.” Jack/Kate says, “stop identifying yourself as my victim.” When it comes to B III, I never have. What do I see? The killer in the mirror, staring back at me. B III is the worst thing I ever got away with. Take your pick with the things that could cost me everything. He’s the one life, the crime everybody goes “meh.” Braxton’s body wasn’t even cold. Father “Get a new dog.” Fucking asshole, and I feel guilty saying that. I say guilt controls and yet my crimes. Braxton is still dead. Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism

I believe in consequences.

No, you believe in guilt.

Maybe. But guilt before we act is called morality.
“Liberal Arts“

295 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 137 ~Victory Is Faster Than Escape~

So what did I win today? I didn’t get fired from a job I hate; my humiliations were kept small. Somebody got banned on my blog. I get to talk more about my dead son. This for sure ain’t winning, but where would I run? “Victory Is Faster Than Escape”

Monday, November 15, 2021

Chronicle 137 ~Victory Is Faster Than Escape~

Two-Hundred And Fourteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and money is the fastest way out of any situation. Well, a bullet, bucks, and, yeah, boobies.

I find the sandman can be as efficient as any hitman. He acts as quickly, at least because, as you can see, I’m still alive. I swear, J, if you told me I could close my eyes and never open them again… I’m not saying something STUPID like I love you, I’m not crazy either. Yeah, I keep telling myself that. Hell, I ain’t been right since Braxton died; I wasn’t right before that, but I at least had someone. I told Carolina Bound today, you know B III’s Aunt that it keeps piling up. All that pain, prose, and those penis-pumping wants. Is it any wonder I became a monk 288 Days ago? Victory, Escape, no Madam, I was defeated. Accept my unconditional surrender.

NaNoWriMo hasn’t defeated me yet, but I still lie my ass off every day. It’s like I’m some make-believe General and I would settle for that than what I’ve been. Today has been challenging, and what am I complaining about? Who am I complaining to; a better question, J? This Monday, I have yet to cross the point of no return regarding my writing. I even listened to some motivations, and I was getting revved up and then, of course, life. It seems that I and everyone else in my life are dreaming of a place to call home. Where’s that? Tell me where Braxton is and that I could follow him. B III fought hard just to get home. He’d want me to win.

The problem is to be a winner, I have to destroy the man he tried to save. Does that make any sense, Madam? How do they say you win some, you lose some, but you live. Talk to Braxton about his last fight. I had to destroy his father and become the freaking reaper J. I was telling Cherry this morning that a man provides for his family, and may I be such a man someday. I’ve often said that the epitome of manhood is not where you stick your dick but what happens after. Being a father, that’s me winning, success, victory. I would instead Take The Long Way Home. Braxton died at 15; I’m 37 and getting older. Victory Is Faster Than Escape

288 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

Too many damn sticky notes. Floating around me. Those yellow note pads are only one more thing that I’m hoarding for work. Humiliation, Hurt, a hunger for something more than this. But no, only pain. And I know… Pain Should Never Be Hoarded but

Monday, November 8, 2021

Chronicle 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

Two-Hundred And Thirteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m the biggest victim in America. Woe is them and me, right. Oh, the pain…

Yeah, that ain’t true. As the song goes, “Mo Money Mo Problems.” What I wouldn’t give for such burdens. Ahem, my son’s life, light reminders, literally parts of my flesh. If I ever get that tattoo of him or decide to become a monk, hmm. Asking where I’ve been today. What on a Sunday evening, knowing that this week is going to suck? It’s torturous making money. Or at least the way that I go about it. Instead, I would choose to be a pimp, a man of prose, a pornographer, but we’ll get to that. Like everything else, sigh. Money is the root of all evil or the lack of it. I go back and forth. It’s strange how sins connect. Greed and Sloth.

I would say that I’m greedy with sleep, but what have I been doing all day? If I haven’t been on my belly sleeping, I’ve been grinding away. No, I don’t mean that in a good way Madam. I’ve worked on two galleries today, and neither one was Braxton’s. Earlier this morning, it was all about Yabbos or the complete lack thereof. Coins, cash. There are another few C words I could talk about, but neither one is polite conversation. Madam, the truth is, I hoard lust. If I had the money, it would all go right back there now. What about my boy? Braxton’s been gone 281 Days, and again where is his reminder, his tribute. Well, other than sitting on my nightstand, Madam.

So why not wrath? To roar, to rampage, to have revenge. It’s thoughts like that which let me know humanity. There is too much hate, misery, and pain. To quote another song, I’m just a “Sucker for Pain.” It’s what makes me the perfect sadist; I receive but choose to give. The only time I denied, despised, and became disgusted by pain was that of Braxton’s. Madam, the pain I’ve felt of losing my only begotten son… Should I chill with that religious reference, Madam? Anyway, that kind of pain nobody but me deserves. Masochism? No, I don’t enjoy being in pain. How about being broke, belittled, and Blue Balls? Where should the pain go, I ask. There’s nowhere. Yet, Pain Should Never Be Hoarded

281 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 116 ~A Gods Weakness Is No~

I’m nobody, and yet they say God will come for me. He cares enough, but I get sent to Hell for refusing to Kowtow if I say no. I take my own licks, and I’ve been there and done that, going on 267 Days. Who knew I was so strong… A Gods Weakness Is No.

Monday, October 25, 2021

Chronicle 116 ~A Gods Weakness Is No~

Two-Hundred And Eleventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should have everything I want. My grandma said that I had too much pride…

When I look in the mirror, I know that ain’t true at all. How about the fact that I’m sitting here in blankets on a Friday afternoon? I will be again Monday after working my crappy Day Job. And knowing all this, I will not fall to my knees and ask for God’s help now? Madam, as if this story needs retelling, I haven’t called on God since Braxton’s passing. Don’t I mean murder? The fact is I’m not asking after God for anything to do with me. It’s not pride, ok. Um, Madam, the things that impress me in this life. Yup, called Yabbos. To paraphrase a song AHEM, “I got ninety-nine wants but a God ain’t one,” ha.

M Anime wouldn’t want me saying that. I’ve been thinking about the things I shouldn’t speak. More like the stuff I shouldn’t do. Do you think the loss of my son was God’s Wrath? 267 days and I haven’t blamed him, her, it, whatever. It feels so damn good, J. Today thoughts turn to the fucking ASM. Whether he was blessed or cursed, he’s gone. So I say “whatever,” as much as I damn well please, and I’m sure I got fries back here too. Here’s hoping I’m also keeping my dick in my pants after today. I mentioned Yabbos. Madam, as pathetic as I am as a human being, I’m not calling on God. Hell, most days, I drift back and forth. Atheism, Agnosticism

Like in “The Road,” to some, Braxton was an angel; to me, he was/is a God. I told him no plenty, but from the first day, I saw him. Yes was my only answer. Now for the record, I did have somewhat of a “Religious Reawakening,” a “Second Renaissance.” Hellish!!! Now, of course, I mean high school. If God could have got me out of that one, I’d be his. What is it they say, God helps those who help themselves? Only I’m still sitting here, aren’t I? Again a soft dick, compliments of such and such’s Yabbos. I need to answer nature’s call. And all I want to do is sleep. Could God help me out? Nope, but Braxton… Such is my greatest sin. A Gods Weakness Is No

“I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave.” ― Jareth from Labyrinth (1986)

267 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 109 ~Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport~

I don’t care for hunting. For food, okay. But killing majestic beasts as you want to man-up or because it’s Human Nature. The Most Dangerous Game? The only “life” I’ve taken had four legs and loved me the most. Humans eww. Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport

Monday, October 18, 2021

Chronicle 109 ~Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport~

Two-Hundred And Tenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t hunt people. On the one hand, some girls disagree. On the other, my aunt.

She for sure thought I was going to be a supervillain and wanted to destroy the planet. Me, the guy that’s so afraid to be in charge at work. Who’s thinking about every little thing that he screwed up the last time he was there? What did she know, considering…? Well, we won’t get into that. Let’s say that I haven’t killed anybody. Wait, no, scratch that. The things I can no longer speak. I have never been in a car wreck, but that changed some months back. Yeah, remember, Sunday, January 31, 2021, I killed my best friend, Braxton. A dangerous thought of what I wanted before I knew Braxton was dying, so I won’t voice it. Only if anyone deserves “something” that’s me.

Hell, I ain’t worth much except to a scammer. I swear I like books, but how many people have I had to block on Goodreads? While we’re on the subject, what am I reading now? In case you didn’t know, AHEM “Time-Travel.” Today is Saturday which means, as always, this week is going to suck. So again, what will I be thinking about in Hell? Dystopian Girls 2? Mason doesn’t hunt for girls but somehow finds them. Or speak of some tiddies, and they appear. A.J. Markam’s books have me looking up the Kama Sutra. There are also more Harem Romances. Hunting, Looking, Stalking, as I told Lady Luna today, I’m lost. I’m not chasing anything but my destruction. my Lazy Ass, come Find Me.

For the record, I don’t care for hunting. Unless we’re talking about something like Squid Game where things are “equal.” Humanity has lost sight of that. Now, Braxton, he was my pack, and I did what I did to make sure he would live… Other people, why are they there? That’s why the world is so dangerous. It’s all one big game of “Who’s The Better Killer.” We’re all fighting the same enemy, people, that is. One man said it was Hate, but no, Madam, you start at the root, and that is Fear. Braxton feared nothing… Well, his own kind, leaving me, and then only me. I killed and got nothing for it. Beasts have reasons, yet people survive. Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport.

260 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 102 ~Perfection Is Forged Through Hell~

In a song, there’s the line “the road to Heaven, is paved through Hell.” Dante had Virgil, and I had B, and the clear path has been lost. My boy wouldn’t go to Hell unless Cerberus retired. Plus, B III was perfect. “Perfection Is Forged Through Hell”

Monday, October 11, 2021

Chronicle 102 ~Perfection Is Forged Through Hell~

Two-Hundred And Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. If the current crop of billionaires is any sign, I know where I’m going. I deserve it.

Seeing as how we’re talking on a Sunday, you know where I’ll be. It’s not going to Hell but more like going through the different circles. Of course, when I meet my demise, I will see Circle Nine for my Treachery. I’m sure you’re asking, aren’t you an atheist friend? Where’s Braxton in all this? How many groups am I a part of telling me that my son has crossed the Rainbow Bridge? He’s on it or waiting for me? Now I could burst out singing, I got Faith of the Heart. As far as God is concerned, I think I understand, Madam Justice. One more reason I’m going to Hell. Because what if anything do I conceive, hmm? For one, perfection lies in Hell.

Not my son Braxton. He would want to be where I am, so I tried to clean up my act. With what I did to him, taking his life, and yes, I’ve heard it all. It was an act of love, kindness, mercy. In my eyes, B was perfect but did he ask for mercy, freedom? B asked for Home. So this leads me back to God, and no, not like that. While I’m busy ripping off movies like Braveheart, how about The Ten Commandments. It’s like I’m Moses in the burning desert. I should look up how long Moses was in the wilderness. I have 253 Days of experience. Is “God” preparing me for a purpose? One that I could not share with Braxton.

It’s not OnlyFans for sure, but his cute face would have more fans than me. Hell, while I’ve been sitting here at the dining room table, I’ve gotten all sorts of ideas. Yeah, it ain’t writing, Burning paper, another taste of Hell. I’ll be amazed if I’m prepared… Day Job. They have said that the Squid Game is a look at Hell. Oh my took the guy ten years, ha. There’s my Envy popping up. I have had the Day Job for a decade, and what do I have, J? Even now, I could sit right in the Den and not do a damn thing. Cocoon myself in the Bed. Treachery is ice cold, you know, that is my punishment. Perfection Is Forged Through Hell

253 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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

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 088 ~Live Like God’s Running Late~

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