Tag: Marquis de Joker

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

WillLeave a comment

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

Chronicle 199 ~Don’t B A Douche~

WillLeave a comment

I’ve been reading about looking for signs and how kids can mimic their parents. When I was mad and B was crying, I should have noticed. As for signs, Mr. Miyagi’s Dad was 3 days of mourning, Prince Hector had 12, B will have 16. Don’t B A Douche

Sunday, January 16, 2022

Chronicle 199 ~Don’t B A Douche~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and here’s one more lie. Why not a piece of advice. Don’t B A Douche. You Will.

Now there are reasons for this. So let’s go with “the good, the bad, and the ugly?” whatever. Tomorrow’s MLK Jr. Day. And people are giving money in Betty’s name. Conservatives… Racist Republicans are trying to erase “culture.” As they’re fond of saying with the Confederacy. Oh, you got no beef with Betty White. You do have rage with the Day Job. It’s one of the reasons I did what I did yesterday, and it ain’t gonna work out. I’m sorry. I wonder how many times you’re going to utter those words over the next sixteen days. Fuck Humanity, you apologize to B, B III, Braxton Barks Bradford. He’s owed an apology. Who knew 350 days ago, you’d be here without B III and once again these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Jack McAfghan: Letters From Rainbow Bridge, Kate McGahan
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 010 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 003 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of My B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

So the question becomes what are you going to do because it ain’t this. You’re going to be a bastard. No, a douche? It’s written somewhere that it’s not illegal to call a toddler an asshole. But frowned upon. Braxton is your son. Died at fifteen, sixteen, last year. That’s around seventy-six dog years, hmm. And you’ve cried them all from January 31 – NOW. You owe B III your life, but at the very least, you can give him 16 days, ok. Oh yeah, look up the word douche. I was thinking about that while warning Braxton’s Aunt last night. It’s what you called him anytime he pissed you off. To think you’re not mad at him at all. But for him, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Reading Jack McAfghan Reflections of Life With My Master
  2. I WILL BE Building Braxton’s Memorial Page And Waking Up On Time
  3. I WILL BE Editing Braxton’s Book “My Turn To B III.”
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants, (Day 003 No Fap) No Exceptions, Mourning Braxton
  5. I WILL BE Purchasing My First Physical Portrait For Braxton’s Frame
  6. I WILL BE Honest With All I Encounter, No Bullshit or Caveman Answers, B Is Honest

You’re going to be giving this same speech next week, I bet. 2 weeks and 2 days, to be specific. That’s more than enough time to figure out what you’ll be doing come the day. Hell, instead, you want to be mad at yourself, the Day Job, your Old Man. Who in their fucking mind 30 minutes after a loss says, “get a new kid?” That’s not being a douche. As I’ve said, taking the soul, the Will, as it were, is the worse crime. Taking a life, B’s life… I wasn’t thinking about that this time last year, Gospel 199 Black And Blue Will. You’ll have these to think on. 16 Days are for Braxton. Your Turn To B III. Don’t B A Douche

Gospel 199 ~Black And Blue Will~

Douche
“The second stage of being a dick between asshole and jerk” Urban Dictionary

“A douche is a device used to introduce a stream of water into the body for medical or hygienic reasons, or the stream of water itself. Douche usually refers to vaginal irrigation, the rinsing of the vagina. Still, it can also refer to the rinsing of any body cavity.” ― Wikipedia

  1. I AM Finishing Reading (Whatever Book Comes Along)
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums (Should Be Done)
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 000 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of My B III (Soon)
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

350 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 197 ~To B A Doctor~

WillLeave a comment

Am I now saying what if I were a veterinarian now at 348 days? Better if I knew Necromancy, but that doesn’t work on ashes… Hell, I’ve avoided Covid for nearly a whole year without Braxton. He couldn’t make it the second plague year. “To B A Doctor.”

Friday, January 14, 2022

Chronicle 197 ~To B A Doctor~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I don’t cry on the way to the Day Job. Hell, what Day Job?

I went to the Day Job today, and there was no truck. I got the day off… Braxton is thrilled. Only I wish I could see less of the Day Job and more of him. But I keep breathing, Sophia. With all the times I have had to end it. Hell, I’ve told you the story of B saving me. Some years ago, when I was starving myself. I was dehydrated; all my choice, I passed out. I was on the floor, and I had been thinking I would take B III for a walk. Lucky I wasn’t outside. Braxton ran upstairs and got my Olds, and of course, they said I was STUPID. It didn’t matter to B. I’m his best friend, his Daddy.

That day I swore I’d keep going and why? Because I had been so out of it, my “father” said Braxton had dirty drinking water. What a reason to live, hmm? Not because my Olds cared or that I wanted to. It was all because I had failed my son. B could get sick, Sophia. I am sick to look back on Gospel 197 Will Becomes A Dictator. Yeah, I kept B III far away. I fucked up yesterday. Oh, did I mention today is Wednesday, Time Travel. Anyway, I worked yesterday on my Stuff and Thangs, my Onlyfans, and, dammit, Zoe Colletti and Cherry. I was transfixed. The reasons to keep my heart beating Lady Sophia. As I said, crying, the Day Job, Braxton.

Another thing I didn’t do in front of Braxton is cry. Besides shooting off my dick, I haven’t stopped crying for going on 348 days. I couldn’t tell he was dying, but he knew when I was hurt or worse. One of the reasons he would lie in bed holding his pee. B the Ph.D. Again I’m repeating myself, Braxton would bring my blanket or grab my hoody for me. When it was to be seen, a leg or an arm, my neck, that’s where B chose to cuddle me. Stomachaches or a fever? Braxton would stay close by. He’d lick my hand, even whimper. I wanted to be a vet once upon a time. But no, a lazy grim reaper. To B A Doctor

Gospel 197 ~Will Becomes A Dictator~

348 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 196 ~To B On Time~

WillLeave a comment

Time enough at last? Between doing everything, I’ve ever done except for changing B’s bathroom spot and refilling the food side of his dog bowl. B still has 347 treats sitting on the table. Trust me, I count. Late to him but work. “To B On Time”

Thursday, January 13, 2022

Chronicle 196 ~To B On Time~

347 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sorry I’m early or late, depending on what we’re talking about. Books, Boobs, Bucks…

Could your Aunt entice you to please come back home? I know B, I know I keep seeing the words, um, “Lessons from Rainbow Bridge.” You’re always here. But to pet you again. While I was reading yesterday. That would be Sunday, so of course, today’s Monday. One more thing the authors talk about. Time does not exist where you are. Always Braxton. Again you’re always here. It did take a lot to even make it to the couch. That is our spot, but everywhere is ours, right. Even if I’m lying in bed reading instead of on the loveseat. Today, talking to you, I’m blaming TRB Schmitt and his cute wife Samantha for being in bed. Jesus, did I open a can of worms…

First off, you were cremated and not buried. I’m keeping you with me, say it with me, Little B, Always. But second. And it shouldn’t be, but who else do I love on this planet. Next to you, there’s your grandma and then. I’m pretty fond of your Aunt. Boobies! Inevitable that I will find someone to love, right? You know how I’ve been feeling about such a thing as love these days. I’m more clearheaded when I can talk to you. While I’m at the Day Job, it’s, “Yeah, I’m going to die alone.” People suck, Braxton. Counting myself. If you had your way, you liked your Aunt Carolina Bound. There are no prospects. Not on the girl front or on the furries B.

Unless you were trying to send me a message last night. Nightmare, I can’t remember. Were you trying to show me that I needed protection? Besides turning on the lamp and your picture frame, I moved to your side of the bed. You know your corner where you’d stand guard. It’s way past time I get a Cuddle Clone of you, my stalwart standing fast. Speaking of which, the only moving I’ve done regarding your things is your toys. Oh, I put them back. And I’m trying to keep your corner clean. My way of giving you, love. Is it the same with the gates? Again the books keep saying, you are still here. Time’s not on my side but always… To B On Time

Gospel 196 ~Obsessive, Contagious, Addicted, Will~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

WillLeave a comment

I wish I was a little bit taller. I wish I had wings. Hell, I should start playing “Far Cry 5” with that grappling hook instead of having dangerous thoughts. Quite painful, but I’m alive if I’m searching for tortilla chips. B A Head Taller.

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m sure I could afford lifts, one of those grab tools, people, my Braxton, right…

Today is Sunday (Time-Travel), but what happened was on Saturday. I talked about having an epiphany, a revelation. I won’t go all into that. Better you could ask my man in the mirror, Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of… Gospel 195 Nobody But Will’s Wife. Inspector, that’s what I’ve been doing these days. Reminiscing? No, that’s the wrong word. Reaching out for answers. And I want to say there is none, then Inspector, there’s truth. Anyway, let me start with Saturday at Walmart. My Ma made some Queso dip, and surprise, I’m out of chips. I ate hers, snacking. So the chips I want are on this high shelf. There are people. I can ignore the chips or reach and risk humiliating myself and so…

A person will choose physical harm to avoid mental anguish. I chose my mind over my body. I reached those damn chips because I didn’t want to know the shame of my failure. They’re all gonna laugh at you, but nobody did because I succeeded. But it hurt like Hell. Humiliations galore rule at the Day Job, but I continue to hurt myself there, Inspector. Dammit, I’m so tired this second, but I refuse any napping because of my mind Inspector. Physical pleasures Echo? I’m going out of my mind. Only let my flesh suffer, Inspector. Then there’s death. Ok, dangerous words always. Unhealthy grief? I’ve had 346 Days of it. I’m surprised I haven’t drowned in it. Between refilling Braxton’s water bowl. My tears, several releases, but no blood.

That leads me back into the mental or the physical. Again, every day I refill his water. I place his treats on the table. Echo, that’s what I hear my voice do when I call him for meds. When I tell him hello and goodbye. I set up his gates, move his bed, everything. I put myself through the physical task to avoid the humiliating truth. I failed Braxton. Fuck me, don’t sugarcoat it; I killed B III. My son, my best friend, is dead because of me, Echo. That is my failure and my disgrace, and I wish I had fallen from that damn shelf for chips. Let me drown in wasted water. Never do Onlyfans again. To die, I’d B A Head Taller.

346 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of…~

WillLeave a comment

Be a man of greatness now, kindness, wisdom, a man so humble. I’m not sure about all that, but I was better when Braxton was here. Sure I feel a twinge of “giving a shit” when I see such and such boobs or when reaching for tortilla chips. B A Man Of…

Sunday, January 9, 2022

Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of…~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does that make me a man? Well, what about you? 1984’s you are the last man.

No, you figured, you and Braxton would be apocalypse partners. But isn’t it ironic that the world ended Sunday, January 31, 2021, and here you are? As the song goes, “I walk a lonely road. The only one that I have ever known.” I have, and you will. It’s inevitable. Only for 343 Days so far. Speaking of the inevitable, missing Braxton, questioning manhood, how I miss music. Geez, this week is going to suck all the more without it. Look at it this way, as always. The Day Job is the third worse day, ok. Emergence Day, B’s Day. Neither made you a man. Hell, both days make you wish you were dead. Dangerous words. The Day Job’s Hell. Much like Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial Completion
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 010 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I had an Epiphany while in Walmart, ha. A Revelation, if you will. Synonyms? Epiphanies are like once or very few times in a lifetime. When I hear the word Revelation, I remember Tillie Cole’s “Deadly Virtues” series or the Bible as in the book of. The world is ending. Something like Ecclesiastes 1:18, increasing knowledge, increases sorrow. Dammit, Jack. You’ll continue to read Jack McAfghan/Kate McGahan. Anyway, Epiphany, Revelation. You’ll share more with Inspector Echo but ok. So I would take that line from Battle for the Planet of the Apes. One day you’ll be as tall as a king. I would tell Braxton. I raised my son so high he went all the way to Heaven. To see him again… Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Jack McAfghan: Letters From Rainbow Bridge, Kate McGahan
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 010 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You won’t put that on the list yet, but how could you make it to Heaven, to Rainbow Bridge? A song came to mind, “We Are Growing” by Margaret Singana. In its lyrics, hell, the first three words are “Be a man.” Now, of course, what of Mulan, Rocky, Star Trek? They all have songs or lines about being a man, but what do you believe. To be a man, hmm? Fatherhood is the epitome of manhood. Just be a man, and let history judge accordingly. So am I telling you to be a father again? After almost a year. Fuck no! There is no way. Yet, getting up in the morning requires boobs, bucks, your Braxton? None of that’s here. B A Man Of…

Gospel 192 ~Will Seconds That Emotion~

343 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 190 ~Brave As Braxton Tails~

WillLeave a comment

Do you know why people don’t hear my stories? Um, that in itself is a long story, but B was always one to listen. And if I had listened to him… Hell, I wouldn’t be reading two Wendy Van de Poll books this week. After Jack’s. “Brave As Braxton Tails.”

Friday, January 7, 2022

Chronicle 190 ~Brave As Braxton Tails~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can buy the tasty bacon for Braxton. Not what I “STOLE” from Jack’s.

Yes, Lady Sophia, that’s what I’ve been thinking about going on three days now. It beats what I was thinking about this time last year, for the record. Gospel 190 Mounting Vague Assumptions Will. Sometimes I miss Dirty Diana, but those days are for Braxton. Hell, every day is for B now. But I should be telling you a story. Well more like what I wish had happened. I’m sure I’ve told you the one about Braxton and how he earned another nickname, “Pancake.” How I would say to him, “I love you like pancakes,” often. Anyway, something I didn’t confess to Inspector Echo Wednesday. So I’m sitting in line waiting for my chicken biscuit combo. The lady gives me the wrong order. Easy fix.

If I were a man of action. If this was The Legend of Zelda, hell, The Legend of Braxton, my little prince. Thou art courageous Will, but no, I’m not. So I take the wrong food. Lucky for me, they also ordered a chicken biscuit. If it’s any consolation, I did ask for my Sprite. What, it helps settle my stomach? Root beer is my favorite, but they don’t have that. Plus, I’m too scared to ask for Strawberry Fanta. Yet I wish I could have come back and faced B III’s wrath for not getting hash browns. I would have shared the pancakes, Sophia. Braxton would have ignored the bacon like he did the first time he ever stole my breakfast. Father and son.

As far as B III’s concerned, I was the bravest man he knew. That’s not saying much between me, his grandpa, and the vet at Banfield we both hated. He loved my father even when he got kicked four feet through a door. The veterinarian, if he’d been there. Sigh… Braxton would have gotten one more day. Chicks kill me; Braxton got that same courtesy. Unfair and not cool, I know, I killed Braxton. True Story. Braxton, thou art courageous. Next to love, there will always be his courage, bravery, sacrifice, and victory tales. Wherever B III finds himself these days. In books about his passing? My shadow, he who gave me courage. For a life worth more than a Jack’s. Brave As Braxton Tails.

“I give hope to men, I leave none for myself.”

“I come on behalf of one whom I love.” ― Lord of the Rings… (Braxton)

341 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 189 ~An A Or B~

WillLeave a comment

B was a gift to my sister. Only He’s My Son. I don’t know when I chose him, but he chose me. It was the day my Olds moved; I said, “get in the car, B,” and it was my car. Best choice we ever made. And this year, I’m already making bad ones. An A Or B

Thursday, January 6, 2022

Chronicle 189 ~An A Or B~

340 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It would be better if we were walking together, I bet. Me or the bridge?

I know I made that choice for you. Daddy knows best? Yeah, you knew me better than anyone, B. I can only imagine the choices I’ve had to make this week, with Time Travel and all. “Up there,” can you see the future, and if so, give me a hint, won’t you? That’s a no? Um, if you had a chance to save my life or not? B we saved each other lots of times. For the last one, B. One more apology, I owe you, or let’s see. I’m sorry I’m talking to you well now. I’m sorry for being so down on what should be a good day. B, what’s the last one? Like The Terminator, I killed you. And doing it again…

We’re getting close, Braxton, though it’s only day one right now… Anniversary. This morning, I began looking over my conversations around this time last year. Gospel 189 ~ Don’t Count On Will~ if you’re curious. I know I’m not, and it hurts, but I deserve it. Pain over pleasure B. I could take a nap this second, but I want to get this done. Yeah, we’ll be talking Sunday, I know. But, if I have any New Year’s Resolutions, one of them should be to make better choices. It’s much too late for that now after last night. Yes, it’s Sunday now. Speaking of time and being too late, oh and decisions. Well, I was all wrong. Other than loving you, my B III, Always.

I wish everything else was only STUPIDITY. It’s like the laptop desk sigh. Forgetting the days. Braxton, you know Sunday my Dead Time, as in The Walking Dead, and remember, Into The Badlands. Yeah, that was a good show. You were here. What’s your age again? Kidding B. But it wasn’t you. It was me that chose to end you B at 15. I feel STUPID. Not a choice but a statement of fact. Like I’ve started reading the days leading up to your last. Gospel 189 ~ Don’t Count On Will~. Beats, My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do? I’ll read more. Why? Because I’m an A and you’re a B, my B. I’m trying B. Choices, Walking Dead. An Or A B

Gospel 189 ~Don’t Count On Will~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

WillLeave a comment

Surprise, I’m still alive, but I’ve been saying that since I bought cheap sleeping pills. I can’t take aspirin anymore, but who knows. Does a liver recover? More concerned about my heart and wallet. Braxton was my constant. No Surprise, It’s A B

Wednesday, January 5, 2022

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but no, I don’t have a new best friend. Well, how do I know with Time-Travel?

I didn’t know I’d try “adulting” and pay my own way for once. I gave my Ma a 50 Echo. Um, Echo, that put me in a bad way with finances, so I could be starving this week, but no. Then I got reimbursed for my eye exam, so that’s $138.00 Inspector Echo. Hell, I didn’t know I would start this year pissing off another woman. Icky choice of words. Anyway, I saved $10.00 not having to pay Maitland Ward. Capital A had me in a bad way. I’m upset I won’t see Cherry in a particular light again. Making women happy Inspector Echo? You know that’s my thing, ha. And let’s not talk about the Basic Bitch. It is a New Year, right. Surprise!

I’m still alive as the song goes, but Braxton is not. After all the bangs, booms, and blasts from last night. Again I’m back in time; today is January 1, 2022. B III didn’t have a heart attack this time last year; he wasn’t hit with anything. Dear God, I looked it up for sure. Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~ I don’t want to read it. Then there’s the book I picked out today. Christmas is done, and I didn’t know where the Hell I was before, during, after Braxton. It was routine, and now as always, I’m a day late and a dollar short with his death. My first book this New Year, “My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do?” Surprise, Surprise!

Bucks, Babes, my Boy all coming and going this way and that. It’s like I’m always screaming at the TV, tell me something I don’t know. A moneyed white dude gets away with anything and everything again, inevitable. Enough past talk, future is coming on. Which, of course, is why I’m talking to you this Saturday, E. Day Job, Humiliations Galore. Besides getting reimbursed or my Ma stopping by, the future is always worse. That’s a sin I can report to you today. I knocked off speaking positivity into my life from my New Year’s Resolutions. Now that would be something if I could keep them. I’d settle for having a good day. In school, a D was acceptable. In life, Surprise, It’s A B.

Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~
Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~

339 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 185 ~In A 2nd B~

WillLeave a comment

I lost my “Toy Soldier,” a Real One, my second in command. You don’t go and get another one out of the blue. Instead, I think with all the seconds of the day, all the ones when he wanted to play, the words I wanted to say. When I wake up. In a 2nd B.

Sunday, January 2, 2022

Chronicle 185 ~In A 2nd B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as Eric Thomas put it. You love dreaming more than you love success. Well, Braxton’s there.

At least that’s what you wish you could say, isn’t it? Last night my work messed with your sleep. Not to mention all of my dickery. So I’m sorry and welcome to the new year. First, it looks plenty like the old one, doesn’t it? Hell, feels like I’m going to be apologizing to you all day. What is this, your second cry of the new year? This time last year, Gospel 185 ~Here I Am, Will~. I was thinking that Braxton the Imp needed to get checked out. Damn, how you hate reading about your first failure of that year. Well, the only loss that mattered, sigh. I’ve said the epitome of manhood is that of fatherhood. Then I fail at Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Night Before, Dani Wyatt
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 009 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 003 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

First failures of many with the start of the new year. Yeah, you’re counting the seconds until the next one. I ain’t gonna lie to you; this week will suck. The good news is, you found a second way to HURT. Dangerous words. Self-harm by way of language. Remember when you thought that asking for another second was reasonable? Don’t worry, you will. Every day, I wish to gather all those seconds that Braxton wanted to spend with me and bottle them up. Let me squish them together and get a second chance to be the man I want to be, the father. You could do that instead of sitting in bed naked, thinking of how you’ll waste the day again. Opportunities, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

That is if you aren’t too busy thinking about that third leg. Yeah, when you weren’t missing Braxton, your dreams weren’t the nicest… to some. Mind, body, and soul, or how about heart, soul, and mind. Well, Braxton is your heart. Your mind says, “Stay Alive.” With your soul, does that belong to the Devil or your doggie? Inevitably God. Bedazzled wasn’t that great of a movie, was it? Nowhere near your third favorite. So why live the life of a Third-Class Citizen? Three-Fifths, a man? Forever settling for third-place? Am I trying to be inspiring? Whether you want it or not, this week will come but not you. What The Fuck! Should have told the world to give a second. In a 2nd B

Gospel 185 ~Here I Am, Will~

336 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will