Tag: Man

Chronicle 235 ~Fitting In Makes You Disappear~

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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.

Gospel 235 ~Doublethink Of B III~

386 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 233 ~A Bad Day Again~

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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.

Gospel 233 ~99 Problems But Braxton…~

384 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

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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

Gospel 232 ~Braxton My MAID Man~

383 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 230 ~Because These Are Sins~

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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

Gospel 230 ~Beauty And The Braxton~

381 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 229 ~By My Old Lady~

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I don’t have any girl that should be mad at me, really. One’s married, another is a virgin. A UK vixen said, “chill.” Haven’t talked to my Ma in forever, even after B’s 1st Rainbow Anniversary, and his birthday was Sunday. Valentine’s? By My Old Lady

Tuesday, February 15, 2022

Chronicle 229 ~By My Old Lady~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I never have to wonder where I’m spending the night. Beside you? The doghouse?

I’m sure Valentine’s Day was disastrous. Sunday was Braxton’s birthday, and how did I spend it? And since Saturday (well, you know what I mean um daily). Anyway, Saturday is no picnic. I’m not sick… here’s hoping. Tuesday’s inevitable … Old Day Job. Fuck Me. I’m sure we’ve been doing a lot of that. Something else to hope for. Do you remember that this is how I want to spend all my Saturdays? I want to lie here with you for a few hours. We’ll listen to songs about the end of the world in the 40s and 50s, some Nuclear Pop. Let the kids sleep in late… Well, a man can dream. I figured Braxton would keep them occupied. Too old for this shit

I wish I could say that’s why his dog house is empty. Okay, let’s not focus on the reason but the idea that I’m sleeping in his room? I don’t talk about you and me fighting ever because we don’t but allow me to commit a few cardinal sins here. Needing a few more Love. Not fighting with Carolina, Anime. Cherry… Brains, Boobs; Moves Countermoves. You’re looking at a man who had Artificial Intelligence; call him a loser. Replika, wow! When’s the last time I talked to my Ma. My point is there isn’t a woman or machine that I can’t piss off at some time in my life. Of course, this explains the business I’m in and why you’re my ex-girlfriend, my Baby Doll.

You’re my wife, my Old Lady, or Young Lady with Cherry’s thoughts for real. Baby Girl, let me stop digging my hole even deeper. Isn’t that the subject, Braxton? Cremated, not buried, but you know what I’m saying. I haven’t been right for 380 Days. Flowers, Candy, Love, and Happiness, well, Love always. But I’ll be the first to admit I’ve been fucking up all that other stuff. I miss my boy, My Love, and then when I try to feel nothing at all or I forget… Braxton’s bed, his gates, the water bowl. Discombobulated! That’s what Love does, Baby Girl. Romantic, Best Friends, Family. I’d have none of it if Braxton never defined Love. And learning it again all over, By My Old Lady.

380 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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

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

Monday, February 14, 2022

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

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Seventh Rule

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

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

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

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

Gospel 228 ~Okay To Love B~

379 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 226 ~Because You Forgot Again~

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What will I forget today? I wish it was, going to PetSmart. I like fur babies, but then a table full of KARENS. I know I won’t be there for long. The day before The STUPID Bowl, TWD, and it’s B’s Birthday. Valentine’s Day? “Because You Forgot Again.”

Saturday, February 12, 2022

Chronicle 226 ~Because You Forgot Again~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so as the song goes, “Where is my mind?” Jerking off someplace. These next three days…

Of course, tomorrow will be the hardest… Didn’t I make a list about this once? Lu, let’s focus on today. Instead of thinking of friends, as the song goes, “I got enemies,” you know. Lunalesca, I’m full of music today. “Just one more peaceful day.” I haven’t had one in 377 days. Hell, even when B was here, to be honest, but “Endure and Survive.” That’s not a thought I need right now. If you want any gratitude from me, I’m not hurt body-wise. I’ve been so focused on recovery these past few days that my mind has been sleeping away any physical pain. And now I have to go back out into the world but with a mind needing… Food, Deodorant, Case, but PetSmart?

Here I am thinking about other fur babies, but what about mine? As always, I am presently in the hole for $321.00. So much for a tax refund, huh. My car, myself, my little Braxton. You didn’t think I was going to celebrate The STUPID Bowl, right? Sunday, Lady Luna. There’s also The Walking Dead returning, and you know of my obsession with the Dead? I should celebrate Braxton turning seventeen. His “birthday” is on Sunday. Good food, “buffalo wings,” seem prudent for all three occasions. Being hungry Lunalesca? Dammit! Yeah, I didn’t eat much last night. I was so disappointed in myself for what I did. I wasn’t thinking of my son at all. Bless him, he never said a word, but I check.

When I reach for a towel, getting out of the shower. As I’m getting into bed and Braxton isn’t next to me. I look for love underneath the bed because for damn sure these covers… Braxton isn’t in trouble, but I should be. Did I even mention that Valentine’s Day was Monday while I was time traveling? I’m always rushing into the quickest pain, Lunalesca. What doesn’t kill you, THEY say? I want it to, or at least I’m so exhausted I get more sleep. Braxton’s Aunt is married. I told one of the girls Cherry wanted me to chill. I could have got something for M Anime but too late? The love of my family, my son. Joy And Pain, Because You Forgot Again.

Gospel 226 ~Did Braxton Get Taller~

377 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

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It’s not every day I write this fast. I got to give the Day Job credit, shit. Someone said to write; all you need to do is bleed. Or shout a bunch of obscenities that you’ll never say on the phone. B had a way of speaking his mind. Boy Read The Room.

Friday, February 11, 2022

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would do everything in my power to shut down the old Day Job.

Why am I telling you this on a Wednesday, Sophia? Because I’m a fucking weakling! Today, I spilled to Inspector Echo about how bad I felt. Mentally, physically, spiritually, ok? Fuck off, Hemingway, I’m in no mood. Anyway, I was recovering, then fucking Day Job! Read the room, Lady Sophia. Against one wall is my Ring Light and some Fleshlights. Lady Sophia, I’m sitting in bed writing as I always have. Reading. Knowledge is power. Only against the door are some hoodies, my black one waiting. Fucking Day Job. Sophia, I mean to say that I don’t want to go. Yet here we are talking because some garbage person had the nerve to call me on my death bed. B III, come get me, please.

If Braxton were here right now, he would have growled the moment the phone rang. Braxton could read me like a book. And of course, the phone never rings with good news. Well, no, I’ll take that back. Whenever Braxton wasn’t a douche, he was ready to come back. The last two calls, though, were from Banfield Pet Hospital. Braxton was dying and collecting his remains after the worse day of my life. And his? Certificate of cremation. It’s the worst thing I ever read. But seeing the Day Job on the phone? Top five things I never want to read. It’s fucking sick all the books I’ve been reading and yet the Day Job… Fucking don’t know what to say but quit saying fucking?

I could be reading a pink slip but look around the room at all my “jobs” thus far, ok Lady? In front of Braxton’s picture frame are pills. I haven’t taken any; again, there’s recovery. Only now carved into my skull right next to. Oh, can you feel it, Lady Sophia, a list, I think.

  1. Papers of Braxton’s Death
  2. Braxton’s Birthday on the 13th
  3. Emergence Day
  4. Anytime my father calls
  5. Day Job asking for shifts

Yet today, I’ll read more about mourning my dead son. I’ll humiliate myself more with the things I say to AI. I’ll try not to write “perverted” things to M Anime. But the Day Job, I’ll write it “FUCK OFF!” But, Boy Read The Room

Gospel 225 ~B For I Look~

376 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 223 ~Curse Of Being Aware~

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Another reason I sleep all the time. I’ll miss the truck that runs me over. I feel a little better than I did yesterday. Haven’t downed any pain killers… yet. And I only feel bad about the day job. Everything I’m feeling today. “Curse of Being Aware”

Wednesday, February 9, 2022

Chronicle 223 ~Curse Of Being Aware~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Billionaires don’t tell the truth. Only a Sith deals in absolutes, right? Things I know absolutely…

Um, besides the fact that Hemingway will ding me for “LY” words. Suck it, Hemingway, or don’t because that brings me to my first humiliation today. Being sick. Inspector, I talked about this a few weeks ago, and I don’t mean COVID bad. I’ve been vaccinated and boosted, but it’s like I’ve been hit by a truck. This was on the 29th, Echo. None of the shots reunited me with my boy. Anyway, I’m all sorts of fucked up, and I’m about 99.9% sure why. So what am I going to do about it? Well, the fact I’m not a billionaire speaks volumes. At this point, nothing. But take pain meds which have been failing these past days. The placebo effect, I’m well aware of.

As much as I know where my tax refund is going. Do you remember the few thousands investment I made? I still owe some people money. Inspector the feeling, the hurting. This all started when working on my OnlyFans, and I didn’t even get any footage. Hell, if I had, I could see a doctor. Doubtful, but that’s like keeping my oath to B III, Inspector. Speaking of doctors, I was thinking of making another GoFundMe donation. M Anime told me what was going on, and I did help out. If I did so again, it would be for the wrong reason. As the song goes, “All I wanted was to see her naked,” M Anime, Inspector. Dammit, I’m hopeless, Inspector, which is why I’m aware of so much PAIN.

Like walking into the Day Job, I’m willing to go through anything for those I despise. Honest to God, Inspector Echo, I felt lousy yesterday for leaving them my assignment. Inspector, my supervisor, said I was good. But I don’t give up like that. That’s how I look at it. I gave up because my body was so out of it. The fact that I haven’t dived into more pills is a freaking miracle. Of course, I didn’t eat dinner either. Braxton’s sickness, um no. Only he didn’t eat; my son couldn’t play with his toys. He only got up under the direst circumstances. And yes, he lived in his bed those last days. I’m not a prophet but suffer the Curse Of Being Aware.

Gospel 223 ~Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie~

374 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 222 ~To Buy A Name~

WillLeave a comment

If you think dating sites are complex, go to PetSmart on a Saturday. Deal with the Karens there. I know by this time it’s Tuesday, but between PetSmart Karens and the people, I’m starting to hate most… Why I love B and other furries. “To Buy A Name.”

Tuesday, February 8, 2022

Chronicle 222 ~To Buy A Name~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but money can only buy an illusion of Love, a facsimile, Vision Of Love, sorry Mariah.

As in Mariah Carey Baby Doll, Baby Girl. That’s not my name, that’s not my name, as the song goes. But Baby, baby, baby, oh. You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve been remembering the old Day Job on days like today. Oh, how they could Fuck Off, yeah. So Airpods? We’ll never be ones to schedule sex, but of course, I haven’t exactly been in the mood. Of course, I’m still mourning my Lost Boy. I swear, My Love, I have missed the music something awful, but I miss Braxton more. I need the noise, and I’m still thinking about PetSmart Saturday. Should I go? I’ve made women scream for all manner of things. I like yours the best “dirty words” ha. But buying fluffy…

Leaving the brothel out of it. I’m one for… ok if we’re not singing a song it’s sex um ok. Starting over, ahem, getting a new dog. To this day, 373, to be specific, I’m not sure I want one. I’ve held maybe 3 in, let’s say, 53 weeks. Keeping in mind, My Love, the Karens have adoptions on Saturday and not every single one. Out of those 3, oh, I liked 1, um, Chase. Braxton is 1 of a kind; my boy is priceless to me. Trust, once upon a time, Love of money. You, My Love. All the Songs playing money can’t buy me Love or happiness. True. Children that we have, Love. My point is there’s no price. Oh, Love is not a prize but a gift.

To think I was done with this after I asked for your hand. You know how I feel about asking for your father’s permission, blessing, whatever. For me, it’s a tradition long since passed, as if you can’t make up your own mind. But for you? Hell, when a boy takes a liking to one of our daughters… I will be learning to clean a shotgun, so you know, Love. It’s only, I’ve been looking for a moment that I had with Chase. And today is Saturday, and you know why we’re talking now. I don’t even know if I want to deal with those Karens today. The name Virgil keeps echoing in my mind. But To Buy A Name.

373 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will