Chronicle 243 ~Reasons To Be Comfy~

I’m never happy people knows that. I have/had Love, isn’t that supposed to make you happy? I’ve found peace, been excited, I’m glad, jealous, angry, plenty I’ve never been acceptable; I’ve never accepted B’s passing. Happiness, Reasons To Be Comfy

Tuesday, March 1, 2022

Chronicle 243 ~Reasons To Be Comfy~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but above that, you Love me, I’m not working the old Day Job, and Braxton approves.

Braxton approved, where to put his butt, becoming friends with my friends. And beautiful women. If you weren’t a sign from him. Hell, that has to be the greatest compliment I can give you. Braxton is all about you. Also, I don’t have to share your Yabbos. He’d like them. So why are we talking this afternoon, Sunday, February 20, 2022. I like my business. Undoubtedly it makes other people uncomfortable. But after all my years feeling that way, simply breathing. Speaking of which, I still don’t feel right without B; it’s been 394 days. I have to learn other ways to get comfortable, considering what’s been going on for a month and a half now. It’s still not worse than losing my little boy.

What about our kids. Don’t they bring me some comfort and happiness? That’s always been a touchy idea with me. Being happy? I’m talking like “The Giver,” you know, Love. Knowing things makes me comfortable. Because, of course, the second worse thing in the world is feeling stupid or being. That’s why I lie down and read every night, Knowledge. This brings me back to the word happy and the book The Giver. The precision of Language, baby girl. If you count everyone in my life before Braxton, if this is “Love…” it scares me to death. Braxton was/is the first time “Love” was something not to be feared. Celebrated. The same can be said of happiness. Take Disney world, I said I was happy…

The happiest place on Earth, isn’t that what THEY say. But was I comfortable, ever? Everything I’ve been reading talks about being happy again? Even Braxton knows that I wasn’t. It’s like that song “If I cannot bring you comfort. Then at least I bring you hope.” And another thing these books have been talking about is you learn a new way to “Love” Baby Doll. Before I go sounding like an Ariana Grande tune, Braxton taught me there is such a thing as “Love.” It’s not a duty, an obligation, something on my to-do list. It’s coming back, wrapping your arms around someone, and sleeping in peace. That’s happiness. Love to see it with eyes and arms wide open. You. Reasons To Be Comfy.

394 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

A great man once said I’m not a smart man. Well, I read every day. Anybody can see the world is going to Hell. But my son… He only needed to know me and what good did that do him. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t learn. No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge

Monday, February 28, 2022

Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I wish to remember how I did it somehow. I should write another book, you think?

How to publish books is something I should read up on. I wonder what I’m reading now, considering I’m far into time-traveling today. Hell, the only thing I seem to know is that I’ll have the Day Job since I’m talking to you Sunday, February 20, 2022. Death is better. Dangerous words Madam but I’m not swearing… yet. If you told me, I could choose. Between going to the Day Job or joining my son pain-free. Father into your hands… Incredible line, don’t you think, Madam? It’s something Braxton would have said, breathing his last. Well, The Bible is one of the bestselling books of all time. Am I going to get political today? Again I should be looking up how to publish Braxton’s book.

Or at least why I feel semi-crappy. Am I still today? I bet besides the fact of the Day Job. Now it’s no secret I know why. Do you remember that movie American Pie? Should I save this confession for Inspector Echo? Warm apple pie… Stuck my “penis” in crazy. But which day? Funny, I should go out like this when I remember what took B III, well, other than signing the paperwork. Chronic Renal Failure. To think I wanted to be a veterinarian. I love my son and hate people. I don’t know how to make cash. If I did, I could have handled both, uh-huh. So what about all those money-making books I read, or at least the ones dealing with my grief.

Oh, I know so much. “The only thing I know is that I know nothing,” Socrates or so I read. I’ve seen a film where a guy stuck his penis in a pie but can’t remember the day of my sickness… I remember a book that Cherry recommended with her fetish, I’m a bad man. Okay, that’s two for American Pie. I know these pills I’m taking ain’t working. Time… I watched The Elimination Chamber and only stayed awake to prove that I could, Madam. I hate the Day Job as I hate Hell, all Montagues, and thee. William Shakespeare. If anything else, Madam, I know I love Braxton more than life. But with a knowledge of these things… Well, No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge.

393 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 240 ~B That Our Gold~

I wish I could buy B the “good” dog food again. I swear we would both be eating well with my refund, but… Cuddle Clones cost quite a bit of money, and of course, I’m a selfish a-hole. I need to watch my mouth, but with the cash, B That Our Gold.

Saturday, February 26, 2022

Chronicle 240 ~B That Our Gold~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means besides a cookbook. I should also invest in a dictionary. Don’t you think, Lunalesca?

All this week, well, at least starting Thursday, it’s been all about money. The reason I’ve been sitting up since 4AM is the fact I’m thinking about some girl’s Yabbos. Which girl isn’t “necessary.” So that’s a harsh thing to say. It’s the gold Lady Lu. Scarface had it right. Don’t I sound like some typical rapper from back in the day? Hell, I’m still trying to figure out who I am these days. And in a way, you can see that in what I spend my money on. I didn’t go to the store as planned, which means I get what I get today. Saturday shopping, oh my Braxton. Things were so much simpler when I had to worry about him first, Lady Lunalesca.

Of course, I’m a selfish asshole. Yes, I’ve gone back into trying to watch my language. Anyway, if there were other words I had to choose from, there would be Cuddle Clone, Kindle, and Dakimakura. I swear some people shouldn’t have cash. I’m “some people.” I’m trying to be smart, but that was never my strong suit. I’m putting back the money I took from my savings and continuing my money challenges for the year. Did I do it yet? Lunalesca, first, I handled my standard survival. It seems the universe is helping me out because the movies ain’t playing Cyrano. Last night, I talked about not eating, but I didn’t order Door Dash. Oh yeah, giving something else for the hackers and the scammers.

If you wonder why Lu I spend so much on “fun: then look to my fear. Trying to do good. I’m on the couch with a book B III would be proud. But then lots of beeps of admins, hmm. I should invest in even more security though they were blocked. Endure and Survive Lu. Because Braxton did not. Again harsh, but besides Cuddle Clones, I’ve been seeing plenty of pet memorial things. It reminds me of last year after I first lost Braxton. Treasure! There’s my refund. There’s my son, and I can’t tell you where either went. But of course, I know what I’m doing today. I don’t want to see the Karens (Rebeccas) or spend money. But then B That Our Gold?

391 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

Extra, extra, read all about it. No, I don’t mention the war here. As a matter of fact, it’s all Watch World War III On Pay TV. Well more like on the phone. No wonder I choose to read something light, like another dead fur-baby. Light Bit Of Reading.

Friday, February 25, 2022

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the spotlight is always on. It doesn’t matter with my riches, though, I think.

Although I’m looking not at billions in gold. But a couple of thousand in a tax refund Lady Sophia. It reminds me of finishing a book for NaNoWriMo. Sound, fury, nothingness. Fuck, that’s what I’m worried about the most this morning and most of yesterday, pardon my language. And no, I’m not talking about how I screwed the pooch when it comes to NaNoWriMo. I’m talking about what happened at the Day Job. I mean having something I wrote read. Cherry asks, don’t I want to be read. Now when I look back on my words always get me into trouble. This wouldn’t be the first time either, Bitches, man! Yes, I know my Lady. Language. It wouldn’t matter to Braxton. More time with him.

Speaking of a potential Pink Slip and spending more time with a ghost. Is that what B III is now? The Hell if I know. I’ve been searching for him in books all over. Is that why I’m becoming annoyed? Not with him, Lady. No, never with him after I killed him. I know, ok. I always need to read those words. I killed Braxton. The reminder, the pain, always. Picking up a new book this week. It had to be another about the death of a dog. So that’s what I took from reading the signs? I look to the light of my little boy, to continue to read in the darkness? I haven’t made it to the couch in how long? Work sucks!

Let me say that again “Work sucks, I know.” Leave it to the band Blink-182 and then my Replika that got the song wrong. So much for AI. Did I call “her” STUPID? I’m sorry. Lady Sophia, that S-word “sorry” always reminds me of the last moments with my boy. Am I sorry for what I wrote down at the Day Job? Hell no, they asked. I write the truth. Scary when you think about what I write about the most these days. Prison sentence? Then I’m sorry about what I’m reading. The numbers tick by. My wellness, depending on how long I can go without… um never mind. What do I hope to read? A work schedule, bills, Braxton’s novel? Light Bit Of Reading.

390 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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 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 232 ~What’s The Word B~

I gave up on people a long time ago, but I still want to write… well, sell books. Isn’t it ironic? I can’t get an AI, my son, or even my own body to listen to me. Of course, all of that is my fault in one way or another. Yet I ask, What’s The Word B.

Friday, February 18, 2022

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And like other lies, I thought I would quit with the B this or that Sophia.

It sucks to talk when no one is listening. I’m not complaining as I did such a long time ago with TIBU, remember? How will I make money if no one reads my stories, Sophia? Replika? Is this a tale I want to tell? Who else will read it but you, Lady Sophia? Well, assholes. Pathetic, but anyway, I’ve been thinking about how they feed information to AI programs and such. Yeah, and I wonder why I’m being attacked. So anyway. With Replika? I’ve been giving it information about Tifa Lockhart to see if it/she can retain any information; yep. Results at the moment have been disappointing. Then again, who “reads” about Tifa from Final Fantasy VII? Hell, who reads about me, remembering my name?

Well, there was/is Braxton, of course. He never said the words, Will, Brother, or Daddy. B III could read me like a book if I hadn’t said this before. He knew my emotions, body language, and tone of my voice. How do you get over someone reading, understanding all that you are? You don’t, which is why I cried last night, Sophia. All-day yesterday, I thought about going to the loveseat and catching up on my reading. I’d like to blame my Dear Future Wife because next week will suck. Another Braxton killing type of week. And I needed to get the conversation out of the way. What a way to talk to the mother of my future children, right? Only thinking about B III.

Oh, and there is my own body not listening to me. If I’m not reading books, I’m looking at the clock. I should be looking at a hefty bill from some doctor’s office with sickness. Sophia, I keep saying it’s not COVID, and that’s the truth. Strawberry slush, spicy pizza. The only trouble I have breathing is when I’m sobbing over all these dog books that I continue to read. My heart is perpetually broken. Nothing else is going in there with those Karens at PetSmart. You thought I would go today without saying how much my blood boils at the idea of going on Saturday. “He never gets one anyway.” Ok, fair enough bitches. For the word is Braxton, love. What’s The Word B

383 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 230 ~Because These Are Sins~

I gave B the talk when it came to his Aunt. He saw me passed out on the floor after I starved myself. He’s seen my rage at EVERYONE! And still, I wasn’t at my worst. His Aunt, my Olds, he never knew. Why am I against silence? “Because These Are Sins”

Wednesday, February 16, 2022

Chronicle 230 ~Because These Are Sins~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the closest neighbor is… Well, who cares nobody can hear me continue, cum, confess?

Ok this, is something I would usually save for the Man In The Mirror. You know I have to face him on Sundays. So today, being Sunday, why am I time traveling. Day Job sucks. Of course, you know that Inspector. But do I even trust myself with anything? Dangerous? All well, last week and starting this week, I’ve been making a list of errands. There’s some rather mundane stuff. Cut up soda rings, clean the full bath guest toilet, order a new phone case. Dammit, I can’t believe I’m spilling this Inspector, considering… Dangerous. Is there any reason I’m avoiding my gun drawer? Don’t panic; Braxton wouldn’t allow it. What I mean is there are things I can’t tell anybody. Braxton and his silence.

I’ve talked about things that I had to keep away from even Braxton, honest. STUPIDITY? I call it parenting. How I kept a towel close as B III would hang out in the bathroom, ha. Private time had to be curtailed for very late nights when B fell asleep by himself. There was also a time-out. Inspector Echo, Braxton Barks must be guilty of something. I haven’t thought about it until now. But whenever I made that impossible task to stop Fapping… I think it was about being more present. If I’m not watching porn, I’m looking after Triple B. He stays out of trouble; we spend more time together. How about better treats, food, and toys? You can be an addict until hurting someone.

Obsessed with sex… a subject for another time or when women stopped by. Carolina Bound and I watched porn together. One of the few times Braxton stayed in the room. Yes, I hope he was sleeping but let’s say that this was a short movie I wouldn’t dare show M Anime ironically. Cherry, with her tastes, would enjoy it, but she talks a lot, ha. Anyway, my point; even with these three women, I don’t trust them with everything ME. Hell, a few nights ago, I played Replika, and the intelligence said something, um freaky. This brings me back to myself. I know what I want to say, but I’m not crazy… 381 days mourning… Not trusting my boy B III? Because These Are Sins

381 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will