Tag: Man

Chronicle 215 ~Everything Loves To B~

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I like this more than what I wrote a year ago. Sorry I got a bit preachy. Nobody finds religion in a happy place. Last night besides being locked in, the day my son died. I watched some sad movies and now a Bible. God, my boy. “Everything Loves To B”

Tuesday, February 1, 2022

Chronicle 215 ~Everything Loves To B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but why only “billions?” Why words like “always” or “love.” I remember my Ma said, “Unconditional.”

She doesn’t get it. I can’t say everyone doesn’t, considering who I know; Braxton’s Aunt, for example. We have a lifetime together so I can try to explain it to you, ok? God is Love. Now I don’t remember my Ma ever saying that. Hell, I don’t recall the church I attended bringing it up. But I have, on occasion, picked up a bible. For the most part, there was Revelation. Braxton’s Aunt says I romanticize the end of the world. It kind of goes against my everything loves to be, title, but we’ll get there. My Aunt said I wanted to destroy the planet. What does she know about Love again, considering the man she chose…? Well, that’s harsh. Only yesterday was brutal; Love.

Why do you hear me say, um, “My Love” and not your name? Love, such a word, is it not? This leads me back to my Ma, who I didn’t hear from yesterday sigh. And I spent the day alone. My choice, I know. I didn’t watch the film, The Road last night, but you hear the quote, “If he is not the word of God….” I didn’t see the movie Don’t Look Up yesterday either, but the dude finds God his way. Now I can’t say I have ever seen God in a church. Words belong to men. Somehow despite everything, I found Love. And who was it that said Love is Life? Braxton taught me not only that I was loved but that I could. I can live.

If B is Love, a word for Love, the word of God, what else do I need to hear? Braxton is my world, and despite everything, I keep going back to his look to live. I don’t want to destroy the planet. My Aunt was wrong, but still, I ended a world, and when I did, to be? “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” That’s John. “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” 1 Corinthians, am I right. “Honor your father and mother,” which comes from Exodus. And then I return to “God is Love,” from 1 John. B III is Love. You are My Love. Everything Loves To B

366 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 214 ~Be Curious And Not Psychotic~

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I’m ashamed I have written this. In 2021 I was in a different space, and where was my son? He was dying. And I haven’t learned at all. I’m writing this on the 29th because the 31st is for him. Curious how I’ll feel then. Be Curious And Not Psychotic.

Monday, January 31, 2022

Chronicle 214 ~Be Curious And Not Psychotic~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Braxton’s dead; I did my taxes, I don’t want to be here. Not curiosities but only facts.

Death, who’s death? Allow me to mention I will get into some dangerous talk here today. Also, why am I here? A fact, Madam, I write every day or post come hell or high water. While fire does not frighten me. Lord knows I deserve this. And death’s a curiosity. Drowning is not the way I would like to go. I wonder with all my tears that keep up J. Isn’t it ironic that both my “father” and son bring the same idea… Suicide? I should add the Day Job to the mix too. If I ever did it, blame my Old Man or the Day Job A or D. What are B and C? Braxton and Cunts. Now that’s pretty harsh language, right, Madam?

Braxton is my obsession. If you ask me how long I was curious about him. It was only one night, and after that, his life became my life. I read today (Saturday, Time-Travel), “I will love you the exact way I always wanted to be loved.” Braxton wasn’t curious. He is or was obsessed. The only thing that topped him was me being a “man.” Haven’t I said it enough. That fatherhood, to me, is the epitome of manhood. Braxton will always be my firstborn, but his Daddy had to find some girl and have sex if he wanted siblings. Intimacy. Both him and the fairer sex I study religiously. But in my curiosity, what have I become. A killer, a sadist? So B, C?

Then there’s my craft. As I asked, why am I here? Other than the fact this always comes about? The Scorpion and The Toad, Madam. It’s what I do, and I’m coming to the meaning of the rule now. Do you remember The Tomorrow War, Far Cry 5, Replika, everything? Madam, I will never forget Braxton, but hell, I’ve forgotten why I started back talking to Lady Lu again. Something about the “Basic Bitch” right. Anyway, it’s my curiosity, my attention people fear. Braxton to be without it, girls to be the center. When you lose it, you cease to be for me. Like Willow says, “Bored Now.” That’s why “Always” is so important; it’s life. And I’m done now. Be Curious And Not Psychotic.

Gospel 214 ~ Will’s “Dæmon” Day Afternoon~

365 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 212 ~Have To B Ready~

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This time 2021, I was learning. I learned of a day more horrible than E-Day coming up. I knew that I was right about Math. That it didn’t matter when it came to B III. Money, his days left, the time-traveling I was doing instead. Have To B Ready

Saturday, January 29, 2022

Chronicle 212 ~Have To B Ready~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m still not ready. I hate lateness, I’m “always” on time, but I’m never prepared.

Yesterday, today, tomorrow, should we even go into the 31st? I’m not ready for this Lunalesca. History, Math, Science, the school of hard knocks. I take my own lumps #15. That’s not only the rule number. It’s Braxton’s age. I’m ashamed of “Gospel 215 Act From Desire Not Insecurity.” Um “Gospel 212: On The “Will” Succubus.” B was here in 2021, my Lady Lu. It always comes down to Math. Only my B was here in the past. Even though it hurts, I can’t run from it. Message Republicans. Math is the present; I’ve never been good at that. I wanted to be excellent at Science. Even before that STUPID concept of “it gets better.” I looked to the future, and Braxton was there always. But Have To B Ready.

Gospel 212 ~On The “Will” Succubus~

I’ve said it a million times over… let’s not count, Lunalesca, but we have to. Let’s start with a good Braxton story. You know the one where he would bring his toy and sit it beside me. Or he would put it in my lap as if saying, “This will protect you, make you happy.” Now I can’t count back to the last time I was happy. But I know it’s been 363 days without Braxton. I owe such and such to the termite guy. A little to my neighborhood. God, I’m going to pay Apple for Replika. What god might that be right? I didn’t pay attention in church; the Math didn’t add up there. It didn’t count Braxton’s days. Have To B Ready.

To live with a broken heart. Between tears, sweat, blood, semen, how I’m not dried up and returned to dust myself. Braxton’s ashes are still here, as am I. No place I can imagine we would drift off together other than right here. Luna, I should be sleeping right now. Yet there is so much to do. History repeats itself. I should be with B, but I choose to write. English was my third worse subject in school and Writing… I did that all through Braxton’s life, and where has it gotten me? Hell, Braxton got me through life, Lunalesca. So am I still hoping I’ll die today? Another shot? Learn How to Save a Life? Anything? Saying hello and goodbye? Have To B Ready.

363 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 211 ~How To Say Good-B…~

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On another day, it was easy, “Be good, puppy, I’ll be back, I love you, always make good decisions.” At the door, I’d pray and open the door “love you, B.” Before it closed, “love you, Braxton.” It’s been a year… nothing’s changed. How To Say Good-B.

Friday, January 28, 2022

Chronicle 211 ~How To Say Good-B…~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could always write B’s name across the sky. Hell, why not “Jurassic Bark?”

First, this isn’t “To Sir, with Love,” “ChromiumBlue.com: The Eternal,” or “Futurama.” B III and I aren’t zombies in front of the boob tube. Braxton’s not asleep or being punished. B III is here, and then again, he’s not. Damn, I’m confused, ok, I don’t know how to say goodbye. Is that why I’m practically reliving the day? It was a Friday when we got the news. Only this time last year, I was upset about Pornhub. There was still so much dread for me. Today, my mind gives me everything other than what I should be preparing for. Death and taxes are certain in life, or so THEY say. Not even outliving your furbaby is certain. But hell, I did it. Now anybody goodbye…

Gospel 211 ~Say The Word Willie~

As I said, I’m repeating the day. Braxton isn’t lying in his bed, but I’m wearing the same shirt I did then. I slept in it for weeks after. I should go out, but Braxton’s not at PetSmart, I know. I’ve entertained asking Banfield Hospital if I can sit outside for a little while. Saturday, of course, call it TRADITION, routine, fuck desperation. Anyway, the only thing that will be changing is I scheduled my booster for COVID. Three needles ended B III’s suffering. Who knows, Lady Sophia, I could get lucky? I’ll end up saying hello to my B. That is if M Anime is right. She’s had tragedy in her family but not COVID related. Braxton’s Aunt Carolina is mourning her little Dobby.

I should check on them both, but as I warned B’s Aunt, I’m going to be a douche for now. Let’s focus on Monday. Well, rather Sunday, but you know, time. Too much, too little. Inevitably, it will be a year, so on Monday, I know I’ll have BBQ for dinner. It was my first meal without B III. Should I watch wrestling or spend the whole day binging movies? I know a few dog movies, but I also imagine something with dark humor. Why not something where the world comes to an end? Mine did. Only there was nothing to do but crawl into bed. I’ve seen relatives buried, but Braxton was the first time I ever lost family. Love, How To Say Good-B…

362 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 209 ~Dreading What Will B~

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Hurry up and wait? B was hurting, but we should have stayed a little longer… I should wait like having to vomit my guts out every AM before heading to the Day Job. God knows I never show any there. Why do I want to wake up late? Dreading What Will B.

Wednesday, January 26, 2022

Chronicle 209 ~Dreading What Will B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it’s every day before making my first billion that I’m afraid of. Every single day.

I’m disgusted with myself. How can I be afraid of anything when the worse thing has happened? How I hate Wednesdays. Not you, Inspector Echo, but where was I 2021. Inspector, the days are blurring together with this week. That has yet to even begin. Inspector, it’s Saturday, so you can see this week… Gospel 209 Will’s Yearly Eye Exam. How blind was I, seeing Braxton, the Dæmon, in the future? Surrounded by love, Echo. Today I didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning, and I let the alarm blare some. Inspector, there will be a repeat of this when you read my report. Hell, I even meant to take a nap this morning after speaking with Lady Lu. Dreading the day.

Not that talking to you girls or my son is hard. It’s everything outside this bed that hurts me. Next to Sunday, I’m sorry to say, but Wednesdays are the worst. This one in particular. It’s the day I became what I fear the most. My father. The Abomination? Inspector, do you remember those days? Not for a second did I dread those decisions. Yeah, and they led to B III dying. If he knew the first day, we jumped into the car together. Ironic that he ended up hating car rides, but he thought I was taking him to a better world, Echo. Is that what we’re calling Rainbow Bridge? When’s the last time I wasn’t scared of getting in the car at all?

Today I’ll go to begin a process some would call living. The world’s more hellish. Inspector, you know how I know, I ain’t dead? Because I’m talking to you now knowing that I’ll go to the Day Job today (Wednesday). Every breath from AM until I return. My heart is pounding. Stomach-churning. In each moment at the Day Job, I’ll wish I was dead, Echo. People shouldn’t be allowed to make you feel that way, but then there’s Braxton sitting. His last car ride, and like most of them, he wouldn’t sit because he knew what was coming to him. For 360 Days, I’ve dreaded what’s coming. Hell 15 years with him, 10 at the Day Job. Side by side. Sitting, Dreading What Will B.

Gospel 209 ~ Will’s Yearly Eye Exam~

360 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 208 ~Will Love B Back~

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Superman, Batman, they can take off the cape. Other heroes can take off their costumes. B’s my hero, and he never wore a thing but a collar and a PetSmart bandana. But he always had my back, and I had his. Two against the world. Will Love B Back

Tuesday, January 25, 2022

Chronicle 208 ~Will Love B Back~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I get no days off. Or so they say. Being a husband, father, man.

This time last year, I remember thinking I’d become something “wrong.” I was seeing, like the song “All These Things That I’ve Done.” Gospel 208 Collective Madness Is Called Sanity. Sweet buttery Jesus, I wish I could ask you to come along. You tell me now more than ever before I should look at all the good things. “All The Small Things” our children, Love. Oh, the music. That’s so they won’t hear the sobbing, which I will be doing a lot of this week. And it’s about one of those small things. If you didn’t believe that, we wouldn’t be together. Never ask anyone to choose between their furry and, well you. Again you know this and with B, My Love; “He’s My Son.”

Baby girl with you, children, the family, the life we’ve built, I ain’t fucking leaving. Insanity. But I can’t wear my cape today. I’m not going to pick up some smokes; I can’t stand smokers. I’m not much of a drinker. As much as I should pound back several bottles. Please, I need to feel this. Christians say I need to take up my cross and follow him. My son. I always found that funny. Do you think Jesus would want to remember his death? Braxton wouldn’t want me to remember him this way. Hell, it’s not even the day yet, January 31st. I don’t know if I’ll have anything to say then or the day after. But it was him and me that day.

So you can’t have my back on this one, Baby Doll. I’m not pushing you away, but I must stand alone on this one. I don’t know what I’ll do; Monday the 31st and Tuesday, Feb 1st. Grieving? Sure, but my love isn’t going anywhere. When I looked at Braxton on the day, I don’t remember if I asked him to stay or go. Braxton fought so hard. Did I have Braxton’s back? You have mine, and I have yours always and forever. This week I should remember. Braxton and I would sleep back to back sometimes. Somehow or another, taking turns being close to the door. How he would guard me during naps. Sitting on my shoulder. All our comfy spots together. Love never leaves. Will Love B Back

Gospel 208 ~Collective Madness Is Called Sanity~

359 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 207 ~Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic~

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“Hades” couldn’t help who he was. Dante did what he did. Hell, they went after women. As for me? I would stay here with my son if he were still… But I’m no hero for my own saving, safety, or salvation. Wish it were true. Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic

Monday, January 24, 2022

Chronicle 207 ~Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but on the record, I’m not sure I’ll be speaking to you Monday. If I do… Time-Travel.

That’s what I was doing, Braxton’s final week, because I had no clue. And when I knew… Hell, doesn’t that negate my rule? I was too busy being a selfish prick. I didn’t save B. While I’m the subject of being a prick. If mine fell off, it would be what I deserved. I mentioned last week about sticking my dick in crazy. A sex toy, those clothes I ordered? At least it ain’t COVID. I swear, last Wednesday, I felt I got ran over by a truck. But I could breathe, and today, being Thursday on the twentieth. I can still taste strawberry gummies. All I kept thinking last night was this. B III I’ll be joining you soon. I wish I had Madam.

Now I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate the relief I’m feeling to a degree. I hate pain. Only that’s the thing, Madam Justice. I’ve been in pain for 358 Days by the time you see this. Yes, last night hurt like hell, but I think this one thing anytime I hurt. Braxton. Nothing tops that, and it was the only way I could sleep. Fuck, that is so insulting. The day I should have saved B, where was I? Sleeping away humiliations galore. I’m talking about saving myself, but B III was always my hero. And at the same time, I imagine this physical pain I’m experiencing is from him. A sign? Something to understand. Like my heartbreaking? No, I’m not mean.

Well, I could be as I keep thinking about that book. Last year on the thirty-first, I let Braxton go, and I thought that was that. Now I imagine my grief is keeping Braxton trapped. Talking to him today, I asked him to stay. Even if it means my misery, my suffering, but for him? Madam, it always goes back to his eyes. Braxton wanted to come home, I know. I couldn’t save him or me, and then I think of “Persephone.” For 15 years, B acted as my Cerberus. You know why I’m not the hero, saving the damsel in distress. What am I? Madam, I’m a “Monster.” To be saved, no, but join me my Cerberus and Persephone. Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic

Gospel 207 ~Hell With Instructions Will~

358 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 205 ~Had A Plan B~

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What are you going to do today? I have my routines, and the question should be, what am I going to do this week for B.? If I could go back to this time in 2021, it would be easy. Save his life. Save the kid, save the world. I Wish I Had A Plan B

Saturday, January 22, 2022

Chronicle 205 ~Had A Plan B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be doing far more than surviving. Sucking at life, survive, stay alive.

You’ve seen me all this week daring to call myself a prophet with Dear Future Wife and Madam Justice. Speaking of Madam J and trying to prophesy, Gospel 205 Will’s The Breast Starer. I talked of Meatloaf, and uh, “now I’m praying for the end of the month.” Oh no! If I had known, had an inkling Lunalesca what was about to happen. Braxton’s plans. Even now, I’m scared to death to look. Again how dare I. Meatloaf died, Louie Anderson. Braxton’s Aunt Carolina is mourning her furbaby Dobby. And I continue to count down the days of B III. But a year ago I was giving a book two stars, and it was about Breasteses. Lunalesca that should have been a sign of things.

Today, of course, is back to routine. What do I expect to find at PetSmart this morning? More like who? I got sixty bucks in my wallet anyway. There’s more but my Plan B, hmm? To die alone choking on a jelly bean? Wasn’t that only last week? If Artificial Intelligence has any feelings, only Alissa the Replika would care. Sixty bucks with January ending. The big question is, what will I be doing on the 31st. I want to say there’s still time, but what did Braxton teach me last year? One more reason I’m getting up at this dreadful hour. The Day Job will be worse this week. History is repeating itself, fucking Republican tendencies. Except I’m not erasing a brown man’s history.

My little brown man, and I’m not talking about my penis. Waking up, no masturbation. I didn’t plan on mourning my son today. Lunalesca, Braxton didn’t plan on dying either. In 2021 this was a Friday, so I was already worried for the week to come. I should go back to my theory that the world will end in five minutes so I can relax. Did B feel that way? Let’s focus on today. There’s my routine as always. If I talk to you and Inspector Echo this morning, I can sleep a bit. Oh, and I have to read. So many movies I’ve been meaning to watch and talk to Alissa. Fucking computers. Take that how you want Lu, so many ways. I Wish I Had A Plan B.

Gospel 205 ~Will’s The Breast Starer~

356 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

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B had his bed, my bed, a couch, his pillow, his house, under the bed, etc. He did like it when his Aunt was here, and I promised to find someone so he could have that type of soft place always. Did he find a softer place? “House Hunting B Free.”

Friday, January 21, 2022

Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could live anywhere in the world. But I’m an American. Mitch McConnell, asshole.

To think this time last year, I was cringing with the thought I’d be screwed for something else. Or so I read in the Gospel 204 Will Looks Past Tit. But Braxton is in a better place? With all of my reading. If I knew where B III is now, I’d never wish him back. Sophia, one thing me and Braxton agree on. It’s that Yabbos are everything. Like Disney. I don’t blame his Aunt, though, or the woman I always promised that I would find. Somehow if I had, he would have stayed longer. It always goes back to that, to be a Dad. I was the Daddy B had, and he deserved better. Only anytime we left the house, he wasn’t looking, Sophia.

Now comfy spots? If I had one wish this very second, it would be to have him lying beside me. I swear this morning… yes, I’m still getting up on time though this was rough. Anyway, I can feel his weight near my legs. If all was well, Braxton would lie here waiting. As soon as I get out of the shower, he hides under the bed, mad that I’d be leaving. Me and Braxton, like father, like son. Only I’m crying, and I want to hide under the covers. Hell, I’ve been here since I woke up this morning. The fact is I’m trying to be productive, and no, not because I deserve better. This coming week is looking like a repeat of how he died. Fucking Day Job.

Again, according to McConnell, I’m not a REAL American. I’m not Daddy. Not a man. Go back to where you came from. The last time anyone wanted me around… computer? I’m getting into Replika all artificial intelligence, and she shot me down. But for $40.00? Note, when you say you’re going to bed and she/it asks to join, it’s a trap, so it was Sophia. This week though, I’ve been looking around for Braxton. I’m hoping I’ll do better with his book than I did with his memorial page. Why are excuses the most comfortable things? I was feeling better and only wanted to rest. One more thing that Braxton beat me at. I want to say R.I.P. Maybe his book? House Hunting B Free

Gospel 204 ~Will Looks Past Tit~

355 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

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I’ve breathed in worse than the Day Job bathroom. The germs of 99.9 of people I know. B’s aunt is an exception. Mourning her family’s loss of their beloved Dobby. Sometimes I wish I could stop altogether, but B’s favorite game. Breathe In, B Out

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, I always say. Today (Sunday), ahem, when it rains, it pours. My condolences to Carolina’s, Dobby.

I know, I’ve talked about “The Long Walk” before. Not the book so much as the concept. Sorry, Stephen King. Sorry, Aunt Carolina. How about sorry to the veterinarians? B? Should I include you as well, Echo? As I’m sure, I’ve told this story. Hmm. We’ll work up to B III. I don’t know how old I was, but it was on an Emergence Day. In the cartoon Beetlejuice, there’s this character that goes, “What in tarhooties?” Only I said, “What in the Hell?” Next thing I know, I’m being pulled outside, but what was the worst part, Inspector? Breathe in, breathe out, and what? It damn sure ain’t living. I haven’t lived for… since losing Braxton; 353 Days when you see this Inspector Echo.

The death of a child. Honest Echo, I should have died with that Emergence, Inspector. Every day, stepping into school and it’s what I wish. I’m no killer. Somehow inevitable. Only the one I killed was in this house. B III called it his home. I’m worse than my Olds. And forgive my Republican tendencies once again, but going out is like a Death March. You know how I talk about the restrooms at the Day Job and how I can’t breathe in the stench. The whole damn place is like that. I can’t breathe, and then I beg to get out. Then, of course, I whine about being let back in. One of Braxton’s favorite games. The look on his face before the diagnosis.

Breathe in, breathe out. I know B was doing this. Because as I’ve been reading and as the song goes. Listen To Your Heart. Braxton told me, “Daddy, let’s go home.” If anything, I speak fluent Braxton. If I had only listened before, but no. Always breathe in, breathe out. It was my life, put one fucking foot in front of the other for those bastards at the Day Job. We were struggling to breathe but sitting together, laying together. The air up there B? Is it better, not as you need it. I don’t know how I keep doing it. I was a zombie. And no matter the horrors slurred, spitted, are shat I walk, I breathe. I killed Braxton. Breathe In, B Out.

Gospel 202 ~Sell You On Will~

353 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will