Chronicle 131 ~Can’t We B Friends~

Who’s your best friend? I’d like to say a pretty girl. More to the point, Braxton would say over my dead body, and here we are. Well, minus both girl and dog. There’s a lot of pretty girls in this city but only one Braxton. So Why Can’t We B Friends?

Tuesday, November 9, 2021

Chronicle 131 ~Can’t We B Friends~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but also a Boy as in, “that’s my boy.’ A Brother. A Better man, aka Daddy.

Ah yes, what about, husband? Before that Betrothed? If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been reading another book “This Dog’s Afterlife.” It has a couple losing a dog and another losing a kid but anyway. How about a Boyfriend? Good times.

Further back even, a Best friend, right? Nobody tells you how to be these things. If I were my father, I’d throw some money at it and consider myself a good man. These days I’m less and less of one I know. Of course, I failed way before now. Even more than the 282 Days since B III’s been gone. I’m tired. You put up with my ass when I had the old-day job. You survived my madness back then, but B III didn’t. I envy him every so often.

Some days like today. I should have stopped myself sooner. Working for people I hated, and it’s cost me the one I love. Then it’s a fucking domino effect; pardon my language. I’ve been down for so long, and I ain’t getting up any time soon. Well, then I’m disgusted. Getting “up?” There’s some things you don’t tell your friends. Keep it “In The Closet.” No, I don’t mean like that. I’ll entertain dark “passions” over hatred forever, baby girl. Impossible as it may seem. As my best friend lay dying, I had no idea who I was or what. So every single day, it’s like I’m living some sort of character and the real me? It’s Kill Bill and, wiggle your big toe Love.

A friend might tolerate all my pop culture references; a best friend would get them all. And then there was Braxton. He would be right here listening to “Ben,” “Would You Be There,” and “In The Closet,” thinking to himself. “Women ain’t nothing but trouble.” Braxton was/is the boy, as the kids say, “kept it 92 plus 8.” Oh, um, and you, my Baby Doll. You could ask anything of me, anything at all. Your wish is my command, but in this, my lost son. I know I must sound like a fool which explains why I don’t have many friends. If I did, though, I wouldn’t go around killing them. Where’s Braxton’s privilege there? That doggie in the window. Why Can’t We B Friends

282 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

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

Monday, November 8, 2021

Chronicle 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

Two-Hundred And Thirteenth Rule

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

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

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

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

281 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 128 ~B Aching My Heart~

For the third time in 279 Days, I was offered a dog. My sister showed me a dog only days after B III died. A woman on Facebook told me about a Chihuahua. And today, for a second week at PetSmart, these ladies asked me about Chase. “B Aching My Heart”

Saturday, November 6, 2021

Chronicle 128 ~B Aching My Heart~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can still be petty as all Hell. I can still hate the world, right.

On the 30th, Lady Lu I was embarrassed, enamored, and enraged from going to PetSmart. Embarrassed as I offered my number and email. The lady asks, “for what?” I’m stupid. Enamored with a dog named Chase that I would never see again. I’ll get to him in a sec Lu. Enraged at the lady there, myself. COVID 19 is nothing with people’s stupidity Lady Lu. There are two places on Earth this second where everyone knows my name. Well knows me, at least. Talk to my “father’s” old work buddies sometime. Tony has a son? Anyway, so I walk into PetSmart today, and these women are all around me. “We have Chase. He’s not here, but we can bring him, just say the word.” YES

NO Lunalesca, the answer has to be no, and it breaks my heart. That’s why I go to PetSmart every Saturday, I think. To tell me that it’s still there to be broken, not fixed. I don’t deserve it, Lady Lu, I mean to know, what peace? Hell, I’m breaking the bank, my balls, my book but this incessant heart of mine beating remains. But B III doesn’t hear it. I’ve talked about getting messages. The power flipped out for a second, and his picture frame flashed. B’s stuff on the floor, how his treats lie undisturbed. But nothing Saturday. Well, I take that back. Remember how I talked about the bank? With my budget, I bought a book for a buck, “This Dog’s Afterlife.”

Coincidence, you think? Braxton is a hard habit to break, and I don’t plan on it anytime soon. I told M Anime that she makes it difficult for men to date her. Getting close, nope? I’m doing the same thing when it comes to fur-babies. My Day Job, as always, sucks. Say the magic words “Humiliations Galore.” I’ve been chasing one chick’s Yabbos for weeks now. It’s a good thing God gave Adam a woman and not a dog. I’ve got neither, but which did more damage? Ahh, yes, bring on the waterworks Day 279. So with all the things wrong with me, what should worry me, Luna? I wish it was NaNoWriMo; I’m lying. The truth is worse. Braxton’s Dead, B Aching My Heart

279 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Crossing the line varies from person to person. Defending Nazis, harming pets, or liking R. Kelly, or more to the point, the music he made. The only lines I’ve been crossing these days are international currencies and stuff B needs. B There Some Line

Friday, November 5, 2021

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which to answer the title question is no. With that money, you’ll do any damn thing.

Save Braxton? I keep telling myself that. In a way, I was lucky my boy was the scrappiest man I knew/know. No broken bones. B III’s heart kept right on beating for fifteen years despite the few when he was on medication. The meds I bring out 278 Days afterward. Hell, I couldn’t be bothered to afford some stairs. Little Braxton learned to fly, always. Sophia, I hate making that “joke.” There’s also the fact I wouldn’t have Braxton neutered. B III was a man, and I wouldn’t take that away, no. Um, B III should have been bred, hmm. Again how did it all end Lady Sophia? Name on the line, and I’ll never cross another with his name on it, to be sure.

Because I’m a Bad Man, and no, not R. Kelly bad. To appreciate the art but not the artist… Didn’t I say years ago that I wanted to be as infamous as the Marquis de Sade? If I’m going down, you know the crime I should be punished for. Every time I hear sirens Sophia. But these days, it’s been the beeps, chimes, and dings that have been telling my story. God knows I’m still lying to NaNoWriMo. For the record, counting our conversation with Lady Sophia. This will be 3,900 words completed today. Well, why not 5,000? Hell, if I swore on Braxton’s name, I’d still be a lying piece of shit. 6,900 when I’ll tell NaNoWriMo it’s 8,500. Writing most of the day.

I keep telling myself that I should let my anger fuel me. A lot of the time, I fear the man in the mirror. Do you know why no one else should? It would require me to have more energy than to cross the line, which is the edge of the bed to the floor. Energy, FEAR. Sophia, there’s been one other thing keeping me glued to the sheets or shower walls. Reaching 5,000 words would be easier if I wasn’t looking up Pokémon Bras and lingerie. Every OnlyFans girl would kick my ass for how many “euros or quid” I’m spending. However, I crossed the line with that girl too. That was yesterday, but wow, Lady Sophia. Crossing the line feels damn good. But wrong. B There Some Line

278 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

Up the ladder to the roof. Like the song. I didn’t get that high today. Days like this have me thinking about Jenny wanting to jump off that bridge in Forrest Gump. I don’t fear heights, but if I had gone flying through the air today? By The Ladder B

Wednesday, November 3, 2021

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I know something about the corporate ladder. If you mean my Day Job… Fuck.

Pardon my French, Inspector. If I had fallen off a ladder today, that would have been the last word I would say. It would be more to the tune of “Thank You.” Falling’s a luxury. It takes far more courage to jump. Hell, I jump all the time, out of FEAR, a firm tone, a girl I want to fuck. If I had taken a few more bumps on the head today, I’d learn something. Only it’s as if I played a few rounds of Glass Stepping Stones from Squid Game. No matter where I put my feet today, every step sent me falling. But I kept climbing, why, Echo? The higher I go, the easier it would be to find Braxton. Isn’t that poetic?

Surprised I can even remember what that is. Aren’t I supposed to be on some incredible rise, writing? Between my unpublished poetry and NaNoWriMo, which I’ll be lying to. Only I haven’t been lying about my genuine desire. Yes, Inspector Echo, something else is rising, besides the dick in my pants. Let’s say that Pounds have Dollars beat for sure. OnlyFans girls would be P.O’ed at me. Climbing ladders for $12.00 per hr ain’t helping. Again, I was supposed to be somebody, a leader. Instead, I was followed by a puppy of the human variety all day. Look, I have issues. Understatement of the century but actual mental problems? Do people see me like him? A supervisor asked, could she buy me a Christmas gift.

As long as it doesn’t breathe and doesn’t remind me of the dead. It has to be about B III. In better days, every dollar made scaling those ladders would be for Braxton to eat. Inspector Echo, we are in the days of Humiliations Galore. As always, but more noticeable. I’m hanging all sorts of balls/ornaments on the ceiling. I’m wondering where my balls are. Oh yeah, I’m splashing the contents all over some girl attempting to see her Yabbos. Inspector, I’m having a ball instead of working on my novel. I mentioned NaNo’s lie. Echo, to be a better man and work all night like when Braxton was here. The latter man sucks compared to my former self. Braxton’s Daddy. By The Ladder B.

276 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 124 ~B Fixing That Soon~

What makes a man? I’ve said before I thought it was women or their mammaries, to be specific. It could be money. I want to get away from my father, and what’s my age again? Or it could be mutts though B III was purebred. Love, B Fixing That Soon

Tuesday, November 2, 2021

Chronicle 124 ~B Fixing That Soon~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means when it comes to small stuff… The wi-fi and not my son. Man’s Priorities

Friend? Hell, Best Friend? For forever and a day, B III will be my son, but before all that. Yesterday I was reminded of when I first met him. My sister’s dog. It’s what B was, my sister’s dog. How was I to know what he would be? I wasn’t anybody. I’m only a man. Friend, Forever, Father. Did I even have any friends back then? Nope! Braxton fixed that. I talked a lot about “forever.” Well, no, I said the world was going to end, and B fixed that. As far as loving something, someone that wasn’t fixated on some Yabbos. Braxton fixed that. And so you wonder why I’m falling apart. Dealing with my father last week, I have to fix, pretend me.

Forever can’t get here fast enough. I’m tired of the stuff I have to do. Tiring myself in things that shouldn’t matter… NaNoWriMo. I won’t lie. When I first saw you, it was all about Paradise By the Dashboard Light. If you knew how much I wanted you then, now? Only I was a different man back then. You make me better, but Braxton made me whole. Now I sit here like Wilford Young, trying to figure out how to keep Snowpiercer running. Instead, I want to be Andre Layton. My Love, I have a thing for brunettes, Baby Girl. Braxton was/is one of a kind, as are you. Only I can’t have him back. Such a small part, yet all of them come together.

Fatherhood made me the man I am. I’m a Dad, ok. It’s why I’m still here and will be. Love. Now I don’t tell you much about my father other than finances. Strived for billions. Money, My Love, children need time, reason instead of terror, for someone to feel Love. Braxton never asked for a dime. But everything I did, I did to make sure he was ok. It’s the same with our children. Did I rely on him too much? We are supposed to be there for our children, not the other way around. But no one wakes up knowing how to be Dad. How to do that when Braxton was trial and error. We built each other; now repairing… B Fixing That Soon.

275 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 123 ~Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends~

There ain’t no rest for the wicked as the song goes. Not for them or me. Only the good die young. Where’s B III? He was my baby even at 15. Old dogwise. Hell, I did believe he would outlive me… I had my reasons. Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends

Monday, November 1, 2021

Chronicle 123 ~Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends~

Two-Hundred And Twelfth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the man I’m looking at is the world’s enemy. Somethings will never change, Madam J.

Of course, right now, I’m scraping by. The fact that we’re speaking on a Wednesday afternoon in October (Time Travel) lets you know that It WASN’T A Good Day. It’s one thing to not have any friends at the Day Job. I don’t want any but being lied to, Madam. I’m sure that the manager lied to me about my paycheck and my responsibilities. Who knows, I could be wrong, but everyone there believes I’m STUPID anyway. It’s a disease. Not only STUPIDITY but how I find enemies. It’s like a fucking Hydra. One head drops dead. And two more rise. To think of all the times I got mad at Braxton for barking at nothing. No, he saw everything.

Well, not me. B’s murderer, his killer, the fucking Grim Reaper. People are getting sick of me saying that. Hell, I don’t blame them. I reached out to a few friends today (Wednesday). Braxton’s aunt said hello. Another is pretty injured, and one said nothing. That leaves me with a few choice words for the man in the mirror, well, one. “Yuck.” Remembering my motivations. Someone spoke about your best friend/worst enemy staring at you in the mirror. Well, Braxton was my best friend. My worst enemy lives on. If I had the guts to leave my Day Job, they would go on. B III would have died faster. Yet here I am, Madam repeating the words of Rick Grimes. “We Are The Walking Dead. Lived to become the villain.

Like father like son, right? If my father and I agree on anything. It’s the fact that I should plan on not outliving him. He’s over half my age, of course. Fuck I’m thirty-seven. Every E-Day is a failure. Oh yeah, today starts NaNoWriMo and NoFap. The Good, Bad, Ugly. Only Braxton isn’t here to sit under the table, keeping me focused. Hands meet keyboard. You don’t see any girlfriend around here making me break into “Baby I Love You.” Madam, you’re an imaginary one out of six, and I should be writing about “Bridgman.” Oh, what? I’m not writing about B III again. I outlived him, and my enemies are slothful. I’m the worst of them all, dear friend. Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends

274 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

I’m sure someone said something wise of grief and hunger, not that I found it… I’m not that smart. All I know is that when Braxton died, my Ma asked whether I was eating, and I picked up ribs. Are you hungry seems easy enough to ask? “To The B Eve’d”

Saturday, October 30, 2021

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be clever? Well, you saw that title. “Behave In The Cherry Patch?”

No, NaNoWriMo Eve is tomorrow, and so is Halloween. Let’s not forget Fear The Walking Dead and Walking Dead: World Beyond. The start of a new week and my list of eff ups aka Six Impossible Things. But um, God “rested” on the 7th day. Yep so did B III. But my story, didn’t I say I would be bringing characters back from the dead? My “loves?” Or am I digging myself into a tiny grave when it comes to writing? There will be some “plowing,” in my words. Don’t remind me, yesterday was all about Blue Balls, Lunalesca. I don’t know how I’m going to write with that kind of pain. Oh, right, the only bodily fluids leaving were tears over B III again.

Saturday was B’s last full day. He couldn’t do a damn thing but Test His Might. If God made woman from one of man’s ribs, man took another and gave it to the dog. Oh yeah, the dog was smart enough to bring it back. Ooh, that was not a gripe at women, Lady Luna. Hell, if anything, I’m not the man sitting on his ass drinking a beer and watching the game. I’m the boy lying in his bed waiting for his best friend to come back home. Braxton would be proud. I ignored him most of the week, but he was no fan of Sundays. That’s the truth. Once again, it’s Saturday, but I guess I’m getting an early start on my grief.

Braxton, boobs, and that “bad man” better known as Dad. One I’ll never see again, two I want to avoid, and three is calling Monday. But Sunday will always be the worst day for me. Some things are supposed to be said, smart things for sad times. Only every single day feels like a funeral, but I’m not sure whose. Yet I stay crying over one, my Little B. Lady Luna, is that why I don’t want to talk about today? I betrayed him when I watched him dying. I go and look at the other fur-babies like B III hasn’t been gone 272 Days. There’s no day or night, only life and death. Stories, Saturdays, my sucky life. Say What? To The B Eve’d

272 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 120 ~How Scary Stories B~

My NaNo project came to me as I sat in a Burger King drive-thru spending $3.00 as $12.00 an hr ain’t going to cut it. Wow, I was lied to. That’s like saying the black guy dies in the horror movie, oh she’s pretty, there’s a virus. How Scary Stories B

Friday, October 29, 2021

Chronicle 120 ~How Scary Stories B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford a Lobotomy. Why would I forget Braxton’s death, my father’s call?

No, no, no, as we’re close to All Hallows’ Eve and all, I want to tell you another scary tale. Forgive me for the lack of a title, “Behave In The Cherry Patch” is all I have for NaNo now. Anyway, AHEM, once there was a boy who thought he received a Day Job promotion. The boy would be in charge for once; he would make a lot of money. Perhaps he could live The American Dream. He would work hard; he would do it not only for himself but to honor his lost boy, B III. So he looked at his paycheck to see his worth and… $12.00 hr. Scary, isn’t it? It gets so much worse, Lady Sophia, doing the numbers this morning.

But before that, how about another shot at a horror tale. Quasimodo, Jigsaw, zombies, ha. At least I have the good sense not to show my face. Anyway, it was HARD getting up this morning. You know what I mean, that “third leg.” Usually, I only got two, Braxton’s walk. No Lady Sophia, without him, I’m allowed to indulge in the light. So I see what I’m doing, disgusting. 271 Days since Braxton left. 161 Days I was a monk. Now 6 Days of abstinence. Well, at least I didn’t put this morning’s shenanigans on OnlyFans. My Stuff and Thangs. Still, the monster grows. It’s like I’ll come apart any second. My skin is crawling, and I’m so cold. The boy, the man, I am.

Or whatever it is that I’m becoming because I won’t be writing another Braxton novel. “Behave In The Cherry Patch” will be my next book. Yet to write Chapter characters. My tale will be about lost “loves” back from the dead. A Technological Necromancer, ha. The things we do for love. Not that I could write quite like Game of Thrones. Show or books, hmm? It depends on who you ask, and I’m not asking people. Not B III’s book. Lady Sophia, the story will be about Father Bridgman’s dead children. And plenty of hot pieces of ass when it comes to The Moondust. What’s scarier than telling the truth about a work of fiction. Like JoAnna Luna’s hotness in “Display?” How Scary Stories B

271 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 118 ~Dad Of A B~

Didn’t I get promoted at some point? Thursday, I’ll know if I was a child that was lied to about Christmas morning. $12.00 an hour I should be ashamed, or that I’m paying Love Wolf how much? It was different when I was working for B III. “Dad Of A B”

Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Chronicle 118 ~Dad Of A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but none of that would bring life or, being specific, Braxton back. The same old regret

Braxton was/is a better man than me, and as I’ve said, what’s the best part of manhood? Fatherhood. Waking up at 37, mourning a son gone 269 Days, knowing you’ll never have another fur-baby or human. For my failures, Braxton would’ve been a good dad. Hell, he made a man out of me. I once thought that’s what women are for. Did I offend anyone? No more than myself with Humiliations Galore this week, but we’ll get to that. I should have let Braxton breed. I could have gotten a free puppy. Being a granddad? Braxton was terrified of girls, well, furry girls because he was so in love with Carolina Bound’s Yabbos. If you’re wondering where I’ve been this morning. Yeah, it’s Yabbos related.

But wait, didn’t I say I’m AHEM “determined to live a life of abstinence—no partying, no women, no nothing.” Thank you, Monique Moreau. Yet I’m still drooling over M Anime, Cherry, “LL,” a paid subscription to Love Wolf… Less ashamed of that than yesterday. Inspector, where are my “huge cojones, well other than OnlyFans, of course. So yesterday, the truck supervisor left for some emergency. This dude younger than me, who’s worked for fewer years than me, takes over the truck crew. And I let him. No fight, nothing. Inspector Echo, I want to run a brothel one day. I’m reading about some guy’s harem this week, “Dystopian Girls 2.” I call myself a Dominant, but I am no leader of men. The truth.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNgVFY-xZLc

When I was in the Navy for a “couple” of weeks, I couldn’t do a damn thing by myself. Even now, when something goes wrong, I have to go running to my “father” for help. Keeping Braxton alive, though, once we were out on our own. Well, the ending result. Braxton, my little B, B III, “my eldest son, heir to my throne, defender of my kingdom,” is gone. In a way, he’s lucky to be free of this place. That he does not have to watch, his father fall. Yup, that’s a bit from Troy (2004). Anyway, B does watch, and that’s my shame. It’s all that’s holding me together. Because people, seeing me. Seeing myself, I’m my son’s daddy. Dad Of A B.

269 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will