Tag: Man

Chronicle 082 ~Not Another Word B~ (2)

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Brevity’s the soul of wit I both read and heard. Tact is the ability to tell someone to go to Hell, and they look forward to going. Love’s not what you say but what you do. So much in my Study, and there’s TWD. I still love you but Not Another Word B

Tuesday, September 21, 2021

Chronicle 082 ~Not Another Word B~ (2)

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should have more free time. I wanted to be an Astronaut. Time Travel

It’s the only reason I’m on my couch now in the “Study.” What’s the difference between a Study and a “Man Cave?” Better yet, what did they call Commander Waterford’s office? Wasn’t there a fancy name for it when I watched the show? I’m not far in the novel yet. Having you to bounce these ideas off of. Braxton wasn’t much help on that front, you know. My Ma said that I would make room for happier memories of him. I’m still waiting for that day, and I continue hating the quiet. I’ll never reach Acceptance. B III being gone. What I am learning is like I hate most people, but they must be endured. I am trying to cope with the silence, My Love.

I close the door to my Study, and I imagine that B did something wrong. When he was in trouble, I would leave him in his room/the library. I couldn’t look at his face. I would forget to be mad. Hell, he would be upset with me if I took a shower alone; he’d huff. Only here you are, Baby Girl. Not to toot my own horn or scare you to death. I’ll never be able to forget the old Day Job that made me feel like an idiot every time I walked right in. Anyway, I’m a man who reads about Time Travel and never for better. Republican vices. I learned about a man who went into space because his cat left him alone.

Love, I’ll tell stories about men who abandoned their families for the cause of freedom. There are worlds where women aren’t allowed a place to speak. The sounds of silence. Now I enjoy my books. I like my TV, Films, and Games. Can’t I have it all, My Love, hmm? The Retiring Room, like “His Dark Materials” series. The Living Room of “The Immortals,” by Tracy Hickman. My Study/Man Cave, um Commander Waterford’s office. Baby Doll, that is going to bug me to no end. Like never hearing Braxton breathe. Yet I lie here on this couch with you. Your breathing, your heartbeat, questions. I’ll play games with the kids, watch movies right here. But I’d tell Braxton on TWD nights, “Not Another Word B.”

233 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 081 ~Yesterday Was The Easy Day~

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Sad but true, even before Braxton and worse without him. It’s sort of like that movie Office Space. Every day is the worst day of my life except for Emergence, Braxton’s last day, and the Day Job anniversary. Yesterday Was The Easy Day

Monday, September 20, 2021

Chronicle 081 ~Yesterday Was The Easy Day~

Two-Hundred And Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I won’t be writing at the dining room table tomorrow. I’ll be busy with humiliation.

If there’s anything to hope for while I Time Travel today, it’s this. No, not that I’ll see a fur baby at PetSmart Saturday. Today is the farthest from that, being Sunday, and I got another email about a puppy yesterday. Every day I’m farther away from B III, dammit. Um, excuse me, Madam, I need that pain. As I was trying to say, I can only hope I’ve seen the worst humiliations this world has had to offer. Only I know I haven’t. If I were smart, I would be in bed right now, soaking in whatever energy, comfort, peace to be found, yep. Despite all I have done today, the only fact is that Monday will be worse. Dare I become a prophet?

A Realist. As I said before, it will be 232 days without my son when you see this, dear Madam. It doesn’t get easier. I still have yet to see one where I wasn’t crying about him. I’d take that over living like this. It’s a horrible thought to think that Braxton was the lucky one. It should have been me. I’ve said it before that 2020 and being 36 was a cakewalk, piece of cake and easy as pie compared to the moment right now. Let’s look at today, Sunday. Besides talking to you, I got dinner started early. I worked on “Stuff and Thangs.” Madam, I took a shower. I even changed my mind between reading The Handmaid’s Tale and The Red Collar.

Compared to tomorrow or today, whatever. Madam, this whole week is going to suck. Yes, every day will be worse than the last. Braxton’s not here to lie to anymore. I only speak the truth to myself, and when it comes to the day job… I know I didn’t say Another…

“There’s too many men, too many people, making too many problems.”

My fucking Republican tendencies. They want more people until they’re born. More, unless their immigrants. Yes, more unless they have brains. People make the days harder, that is true.

“If anything, I am an equal opportunity misanthropist.” ― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle.

I think that’s it… I hate days more than the people. Hating myself the most because Yesterday Was The Easy Day.

232 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 079 ~What Comes NECK B~

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*GULP*, I’m surprised I didn’t mention the poetry book that still sits before my eyes on my screen. Hell, I paid those people what, two or three years ago, and I haven’t sent them anything. I’ve been up to my neck in… whatever. What Comes NECK B

Saturday, September 18, 2021

Chronicle 079 ~What Comes NECK B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could get my neck checked out. I should get my eyes examined too.

Only what excuse comes next? It’s 5:50 AM, so of course, I’m pissed. I’m trying to aim for 4:00, and Braxton would think, am I crazy. My neck hurts; she’s not so pretty, there’s time. No, there isn’t. That’s what this neck pain is smarting as I can’t remember, dreaming. There’s one more excuse; let me see how I was sleeping wrong in the dark so I can fix it. Don’t they usually put a bag over your head before they execute you? Or am I living in a world where it is better not to look? Lunalesca, I continue going on about novels today. I’m still thinking about The Handmaid’s Tale. I finished reading my current book, and I saw Blindness by José Saramago.

All these things Lady Luna. If I wasn’t being so selfish again, I could worry about the rest of the world or my country at least. You know how I hate sounding like a Republican but “Hang Mike Pence!” Should I say anything about Trump, seeing he’s not president now? Using the words “hurt” and “myself” is dangerous business, and I’m not Johnny Cash. Only I will be hurt as I go to look at the fur babies today. Have I arrived at Acceptance? Fuck no, never Lu, but a new circle. I look at dogs, I go to Walmart, and then there are tacos. It’s my routine for Saturday. Betray my son, relive a car accident, and my humiliations at BWW over and over.

It’s all my fault, Lady Lu. I’m not blaming anybody else for being thirty-seven and living this way. That’s one more fact. I’m getting older, and that is why my neck hurts? It could be the fact that I haven’t gotten what I deserve. Believe me, it’s nothing good, Lunalesca. Seeing as I’m not having sex anytime soon, the neck is overlooked. Gulping in terror. There’s that fancy meal I was supposed to have on Emergence but wasn’t that awesome. Luna, I am what I am. I deserve a noose but to quote Stephen King, God is Cruel, I know. I live choking on words, wanting to puke my guts out, eating “good,” going broke. Routine Luna, to imagine what’s next. What Comes NECK B

230 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

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I always pictured the Daddy reading to his kids. Of the 38 books I’ve gotten to so far, only 11 (maybe) were appropriate. Braxton was here for four of them. All of January. Yet The Handmaid’s Tale has been on my mind. Let’s Book It, Braxton

Friday, September 17, 2021

Chronicle 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but what did you do today, Braxton? No hands for applause. Some whining, big floppy ears.

I want to talk about Braxton but, there’s something I’ve been thinking… Moira and Emily. Didn’t I say something um wanting to read The Handmaid’s Tale? How about today, ha. I’ve only seen the show, a bit into Season 3. So here’s my question. Would you want to be Moira, no fanfare but to know that you’re safe? No one that doesn’t know what you’ve endured can ever understand. But now you’re a person you can live, your life matters. Or would you instead be Emily? Your life matters, and everyone knows? You’re seen not only as a survivor but a big damn hero. The world that you escaped from, the things you had to do in such horrific circumstances. Not only that, but someone is waiting for you only.

I’ve been talking to M Anime about how hard it is for her to be a woman. I in no way, shape, or form what to imply I know her struggle. Oh, I would rant to B about being black. My point is this. While I imagined reading The Handmaid’s Tale instead of, well, my latest. When I walk into the house, I remember all the days Braxton was still here to greet me always. Lame, isn’t it? When he was young, for sure, I was an Emily, and I didn’t have to bring in a baby. Bringing in a bag of goodies was enough, and of course, yeah, I’ll hang onto this B III. When he was older, I was Moira. Helpfully loving quietly.

My Day Job stories were a lot more appropriate. Despite multiple uses of the word “motherfucker.” In my younger days, my Olds wanted to know about my day, but not really. Now B III, my son, wanted to know everything. Yeah, I’d imagine that’s why he fought against so much. I told you before, people would say it was like B had to protect me. Sophia, when I would pick up a book, that’s when Braxton knew I was at peace. Hell, to think today, I wanted to tell you about the last book Braxton and I read together. Succubus Lord 7. Gospel 212 and Braxton’s last Friday. He didn’t see the end of Succubus Lord 8. Not appropriate anyway. Still, Let’s Book It, Braxton.

229 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 076 ~B There An Age~

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I haven’t forgotten the tattoo I want to get for Braxton and the different acronyms “EHC,” “JSS.” Since yesterday all I’ve been thinking is “FML,” only it’s never been my life, has it? My life, and so what chance did I have of saving B III’s? B There An Age

Wednesday, September 15, 2021

Chronicle 076 ~B There An Age~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but will there be an age I know no FEAR, HATE, or STUPIDITY. Fuck My Life.

Fuck, Mother Fucked, Fuckery! You’ll have to pardon my language Echo. Only who am I to tell you anything? God, I’ve been thirty-seven for over a week now, and I still go crying to my “father” for everything. In all honesty, as the song goes, “I feel stupid,” you know. Inspector, it would be one thing if it were only him, and how old is the ASM at the Day Job? Oh, I go running to the young as well. Hell, I wonder, will today be as humiliating as yesterday. Ten years of my existence wasted with a company, and I still don’t know shit. Will I be as worthless as I was yesterday “relying” on one of my much younger coworkers? Fuck My Life.

My motto, a mantra, the mold God broke. So he’d know never to make “me” this mistake again. I don’t even believe in God… well, not since B. How many years was it that I sat outside with him? Day One, and said that we had to look after one another. It was only us. Last night, this morning, was the most terrified I’ve been in quite a while. It’s taking everything within me to not curl up in the fetal position and lie here for the rest of the day. I should call out of the Day Job. No offense to you, Echo, but I should be doing more. What, hiding my entire life? You know that vomiting feeling I’ve had since last Friday?

Life retching out of me. That’s what I want. Today is the first day ever that I’m a bit glad that B III isn’t here to see what has become of his Dad. Now that right there is the sickest, vilest, cruelest thought I have ever had. I couldn’t protect Braxton. I can’t save myself. Hell, by the grace of God, I have been ferried through the night. If I see this day’s end and everything is “normal.” How I hate that word. What would “normal” be in this day and age? At this rate, I would give anything to go back to exactly where I was around this time. Asleep, dead to the world. Because today, Inspector, Fuck My Life. B There An Age
227 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 075 ~B We Bad Boys~

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I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, the first woman Braxton approves of, I’ll have to marry. When my 2nd best friend saw my sister holding him, jealous and awkward. Now he’s gone, and there aren’t many women putting up with me. B We Bad Boys.

Tuesday, September 14, 2021

Chronicle 075 ~B We Bad Boys~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but will I be waking up at 3:00 AM forever? Hell earlier, later, or at all?

You don’t like me talking like that? I didn’t like Braxton waking me up barking, “Let’s Wake Up The Neighbors.” What I wouldn’t give to have all those times back. But the two of us having brunch isn’t bad either? By no means is this a silver lining, My Love. What I’m thinking is I had to learn so much when I lost him. Hell, there were so many mornings where I had to go into the Day Job, and you know how I am about that place. No eating, no drinking, and then I nearly puked when I had to do a drive-up order. Wouldn’t I be lying if I said that I don’t wake up in fear most mornings? Don’t you love me?

I’ve told you before I’m not one for the holidays, and that includes “Emergence.” Last week I was arguing about dinner. I’m sure you appreciate I’m around and the children. More money for their birthdays, Christmas, even the first day of school. B III wouldn’t have cared. Give him a thing of fries, and he would say it was the best day ever. My Boy. I’m never going to be able to leave behind, January 31st. Like I’ve said, my Emergence is nothing compared to Braxton’s departure from this world. It’s been 226 days here. Dammit, I’ve never thought about walking out. Be you my sun, my moon, my starlit sky. “I Want You Around.” That’s my pride, your celestial body lying next to mine.

Now, what was that? Time Travel, seeing as how I haven’t thought anything remotely poetic since Braxton’s been gone. He showed me love, and without him, it would be a waste not to love again. Another dog? The children will want one someday, Baby Girl. Though I’ll lie in bed for quite a while and dream. I know I can’t get another one; I can’t. I’ll mourn the son I have lost as I did on this very weekend. I’m not “Alright,” my love, okay? To stay in bed, where else would you have me? The world outside, my gift to you and B III. Brunches, Birthdays, Bedtimes, me and Braxton were old men. Yet we rode together and dying ha, B We Bad Boys.

226 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 074 ~Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith~

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I said humanity had a duty to survive but considering the direction we’re going in. I know I’m a bad man, and there have been more than enough days wishing I got what was coming to me. It’s ain’t over for me, Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith.

Monday, September 13, 2021

Chronicle 074 ~Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith~

Two-Hundred And Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Every day I say that; such is my faith. But my wallet… I’m mad about twenty bucks.

Hell, I’m angry about math in general. You know that song “What’s My Age Again?” Fucking Emergence Day. I remember where my father was by this age, sigh. Sleeping… nope. Like Sunday, I wake up to see I’ve lost cash on something I never use, something I don’t want. If it’s any consolation, at least it’s better than Yabbos. For the love of money, eh? Speaking of Yabbos, two words, Prom Night. Understand, I’m getting too old for this shit. But Samantha Flair “robbed” me, I’ll have to let Whitney Wright go. Oh, the Yabbos. To have faith in one pair and such faith was misplaced. The others were my bread and butter. What was it I said about feeling good yesterday? Today I’m tired.

Why shouldn’t I be? Do you see what time it is and it’s not for the Day Job? Still, today is all about survival. Most days, I don’t even worry about that much. “Humiliations Galore!” That’s what I want to avoid most days, but of course, today I need to get my haircut. So much for recouping the losses from the thievery. Funny, I think so bad of some chick. Of anybody when I need only say his name. Braxton. Oh, did you think I forgot my son? Talk about Losing My Religion, but we’ll get to that. It’s Day 225. How many more, hmm? As long as I keep myself alive. No, this isn’t living. As always, Madam, these words, are they living, breathing?

It’s like The Scorpion and the Frog, Toad, Boy, Goose, whatever. To cause pain, and yet I had two lives to keep alive, two men that I trusted. If anything, B III had enough faith for the both of us. Honestly, it’s not going back to the days when B III was alive. I want to go back to survival as routine. When I’m not, I hate the man that I am. There’s a rule for that, you know, ok. Rule Four: Hate Will Keep You Alive. Do I need to go into Rule Five? I see why hate is so prominent. As the song goes, I’m only “Human.” That’s in dispute, depending upon who you ask. Braxton isn’t here anymore, but he had/has faith. Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith

225 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 072 ~All Hair B III~

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I lost my crown when the little prince died. Still, my head is heavy, taking a good look around the world. I’m not a military man. I’m not a woman living in TX. When will they break out those white hats? I also need a haircut. All Hair B III yep

Saturday, September 11, 2021

Chronicle 072 ~All Hair B III~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and the first thought that popped into my head was Braxton’s hair. The world’s pretty cruel.

Cruel enough for Tue, September 11, 2001, to happen is what I should say. I was a High School Senior in an English Class. I had too much hair and not enough brains for sure. Lady Luna, keyword being Lady, I could talk about TX’s Abortion Ban. Oh, for the record, I’m Pro-Choice. Outside the confines of the bed, I’m not one for telling women anything. Speaking of Humiliations, I endured yesterday. That’s the last thing I want to do, from Drive-Thru to BOSS orders, ASM. Dammit, you would have thought I would have woke my ass up earlier. Turns out that Yung is right (Blue Gender). When you’re asleep, the monsters can’t get you. Want to “scare” somebody? Say you want to sleep forever.

Or planes smashing into buildings. Things we didn’t think of, as in Sometimes in April; the horror of the Rwanda Genocide. Now Texas meets The Handmaid’s Tale, I see now. “Charlotte’s Rape” in that show Private Practice. Witnessing that, how long did I watch? I still think about that short movie “Soulmates” I saw on Gofobo. The baby, the Notice. What Rachel did to herself in Fear The Walking Dead. Weren’t people disturbed by that? Lady Lu, there’s big news on The Matrix, but um; The Animatrix: The Second Renaissance. Talk about reasons to have a hothead daily. Being angry at the whole world. These horrors being real, not becoming. I don’t want to go outside, but it’s been months since a haircut, plus doggies.

I should be ashamed of hating myself. A few think I should be for crying over B III even now. My Ma said that I’ll have room for good memories. Now it’s Creep, Say Something, Asleep. How about the song Mad World, which makes the most sense? Braxton’s being as Ass. That’s what the groomer hinted at when he was getting washed. Lunalesca, I know. As small as B III was, there’s so much hair. If I stayed in bed too long, I couldn’t breathe. What A Heavenly Way To Die? The colors of Braxton make you appreciate rainbows. The softness of his fur makes you want to reach out to everything… Am I Wrong? Crying for Braxton beats this world. All Hair B III

223 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 071 ~Some Candles B Lit~

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I’m 100% Pro-Choice and Anti-Book Burning. Unless it’s my words, then burn it all. Not Braxton’s story, because he is the only one worth writing about. Now seeing the end of Emergence Week and the humiliations, I avoided, mostly. “Some Candles B Lit”

Friday, September 10, 2021

Chronicle 071 ~Some Candles B Lit~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now because I’m “carrying the fire.” I don’t think I’m ready to read The Road quite yet.

With all the storms that have made their way through, I haven’t ended up reading in the dark. Well, you know what I mean, Lady Sophia. I’m reading about Time Travel and living it now since today is the 9th. Do you know what that means? Nobody picked up the torch. Should I go ahead and say it? “Humiliations Galore!” Before I start crying about the Day Job, how about the last time I saw candles. Fake lit candles, but I still need to buy some. I’ve been saying that for what 222 Days now. Hell, the last thing I got for B III was the Emergence Day dinner, and I continue to be salty about that. The Cheesecake was subpar. It didn’t need candles.

So what was I saying about candles… oh yeah, the day Braxton died. Let’s be clear, he was murdered by me. Sorry, I’m getting all into this, but yet again, it’s my routine. I call the Day Job Hell, so I need to remind myself what it truly is. Opening the door, no B III. Circles Four through Seven have nothing on the Ninth “Treachery.” I burn at the Day Job, and I freeze here. While the power hasn’t gone out, I find myself holed up in the Den, reading yes in the dark. It helps me not to look around for B. Pretending Punishment. Lady Sophia, the things that I do in the light? Yeah, I guess I’m not for Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge.

It would have been something if that horrible meal from Red Lobster killed me PROPER. But the story of the candles. How they had flameless candles and the frame about the Rainbow Bridge. I’ll spare you the image. Enough people want me quiet. Mourning Braxton. There were no candles for Emergence Day. I don’t think Braxton ever saw some candles. If the power did go out, the two of us would nap. I don’t think B feared the dark, well… Then there’s the fire B III lit under my ass along with NaNoWriMo. Better worlds. Lady Sophia, I keep imagining which one he ended up in. Hmm, maybe that’s why I haven’t started cheating with my novel. Should burn it. But Some Candles B Lit

222 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 069 ~Tomorrow, Let It B~

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Moans, Maturity, as my “father” suggested, a new Mutt. Which, of course, is why he got Braxton for my sister, a pureblood, with papers and such. Speaking of papers, not a tiny bit of cash. No paper towels. Some tissues by midnight. Tomorrow, Let It B

Wednesday, September 8, 2021

Chronicle 069 ~Tomorrow, Let It B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but no, I didn’t get a new puppy. Dinner bordered on gross. Onlyfans, “Stuff And Thangs…”

Yes, I saw “69,” but no, not “Nice!” The women I spoke to on the 7th, let’s see. Two are Fam, my Mom, and Sis, and even where I’m from? Well, that’s a no from me, Echo ha and ha. There was Carolina Bound, and she knows to leave me alone on days like yesterday. Of course, I had to whine to her about my subpar dinner. Hell, B III would have loved it all. I went to M Anime as well. She’s in the same boat as me when it comes to the 8th. No rest for the weary, but she loves her bros. So before I forget, ahem, Happy Birthday to my sister. Forgetfulness, a trait of getting older, getting dead, turning 37.

At times I forgot the cameras were rolling last night. It wasn’t like anyone heard me sang about rockin’ out with my thang. I still wonder what possessed me to do such a thing anyway. The only company I had was, oh yeah, the DoorDash girl for a sec and dreams. The things that happen; without Braxton around. It’s now Day 220. Would I be a better Daddy now? What’s one more morning of waking up late? I can’t say I was dreaming of his future mom. 12:00 AM it was Cherry, and this morning I’ll go with Alahna Ly hmm. Inspector, I always take today off. To recover from anything that happened the night before. All I did was breathe. Braxton made it easier.

Today isn’t Inspector. I should work on getting back some of that cold hard cash from DoorDash or the restaurant. I hope Walmart doesn’t think they’re off the hook either. Once again, careful how things can be brought up having cops bashing the front door. Like all “Emergences” and again 37 total, you’d figured I’d learn, which is another damn shame. Anyway, did I think there would be a puppy at my door like John Wick had Daisy? I did get an email about a fur baby yesterday who’s gone now, I bet. Application? I didn’t have it in me, Inspector Echo. The days come and go, not even a whole year yet. Jan 31, Feb 13, Aug 27, Sept 7. Tomorrow, Let It B

220 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will