Chronicle 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

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 077 ~B A Good Book~

“My Turn To B III” is a book I wrote that nobody’s seen. Hell, I haven’t looked at it in months. I know what I want to read across these pages, but the last thing I need is cops. I’m a black man told not to cry but without B’s fur. B A Good Book

Thursday, September 16, 2021

Chronicle 077 ~B A Good Book~

228 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Except for sitting on my ass in bed, today isn’t looking any better than yesterday.

God or instead, Dog, Braxton, I wish you were here today. Let me play the Republican right now and act like people don’t have Google or any type of search engine. September is National “blah” Prevention Month. Makes sense with it being my Emergence, right? Once I saw this book “On The Night You Were Born.” I didn’t say I read it; I flipped through a few pages. Um yeah, I got the gist. Hell, on the night I was born, I’m sure my Olds broke out into “That’s How You Know You Fucked Up.” The night you were born B? Well more like the night I saw you being carried into my world. Hell, I’ve already written four books, three as fiction, one biographical

You know a little “Mexican” college student who had a thing for tye-dye hoodies and was adopted. Is That Racist? As I said, I’m playing Republican trying to ignore the things I don’t like. The two worst being that you’re gone and myself. B, I picked up a lifeline card. No worries. The last time I talked to those people, my Olds kicked me out. I ended up living out of a one-room hellhole for around three months without you. What was the lesson? If I was going to do “something,” as Morgan Freeman says, “Go on and do it EXPEDITIOUSLY!” Hell, like everything else in life, I’m a lazy ass. It’s a bad habit that you picked up on. I’d read, and you’d sleep.

Then again, you knew how to live a good life. You knew how to be a best friend, a brother, the boy I would call my son. Even when you were running a brothel in my stories, you didn’t partake. You had a wife, children of your own. All the perverted shit is your Old Man. That’s all me. Of course, the story freaked Cherry out, and why wouldn’t it? I don’t know if I sent it to your Aunt. M Anime would go running for the hills. Publishing it? One of the reasons I’m still alive. You know what I want to say but don’t need the cops at the door. How to B You; a book I should read. B A Good Book

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 076 ~B There An Age~

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 073 ~B Kind Of Trouble~

On September 12, 2001, people had much bigger fish to fry. Now here I am twenty years later, complaining about twenty bucks. I’m all for Onlyfans but let’s just say I’m not paying for those. I should buy more stuff for Braxton. B Kind Of Trouble

Sunday, September 12, 2021

Chronicle 073 ~B Kind Of Trouble~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but Mo’ Money Mo’ Problems as the song goes. What I wouldn’t give for B III’s shit.

I’ve read Dennis Hof’s book, The Art of the Pimp: One Man’s Search for Love, Sex, and Money. He and some of his friends and associates talk about being “Mother Fucked.” Pardon the language. When Dennis gets Mother Fucked, he’s done with you, that’s it. Okay, so this morning, I was Mother Fucked. I’m feeling like a Republican talking about George Floyd and a twenty. Yeah, it was $20.00, but that was my money. Now I ain’t no cop. Yes, I have my own stupidity to blame… For the record, I’m over Samantha Flair, ha. I’m sorry you’re starting your week off on such a sour note. You feel stupid, your cash was “stolen,” and as far as sex goes… not on Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, The Theta Prophecy By Chris Dietzel
    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 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Survive The Thirty-Seventh Emergence Day
    Completed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

To sing a song, “why do the things I hate come so naturally?” If it’s not a pair of English Yabbos you didn’t want. Why not Cherry’s (sigh)? You’re kind to the Day Job. You’re kind enough to your bed. Fuck your comfort zone, the motivations would say. Goddammit, man, you give all your energy to a place you despise and nap away your life. That’s not saying anything about the life I took. My B. I spent an hour Saturday looking at other fur babies. Like you can afford one when Onlyfans robs you. Don’t be me, I beg. Easier said than done? The world is headed to Hell, and The Handmaid’s Tale tells all. Only you’re reading something else and Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus 6 (Devil In The Deep Blue Sea)
  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 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Yesterday I talked some about the saddest memories of Braxton being the best. Considering the state of the world, losing $20.00 is nothing to over $300, letting B III rest. Again you hate the Day Job with a fiery passion, but at least they’ll pay you slave wages. Today you’re going to sit here in blankets trying to stave off the cold of your Treachery. Hell, you’re even back to monk status at the moment because nothing turns you off more than stealing. Again your stupidity or mine. Anyway, you don’t deserve to feel good. Advice wise I’ve got nothing but remember who you have to pay. Paying for your sins. A tattoo, Cuddle Clone? Having worries and cares of B. B Kind Of Trouble.

224 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 071 ~Some Candles B Lit~

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 070 ~A Promise, B Eating~

Be Not So Fearful; it doesn’t taste as bad as it looks. Well, I wasn’t interested in B’s cake, but he loved it, his aunt made it. As for Red Lobster, well, that’s one restaurant I won’t bother with. I want a Buffalo Chicken Sub. “A Promise, B Eating”

Thursday, September 9, 2021

Chronicle 070 ~A Promise, B Eating~

221 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’ve had two days of waking, whenever I want (it’s been a long time). To be young. Today is fearful.

No, it wasn’t the cheesecake. Not that I could share that with you anyway, but my promise. Out of everything to come out of “Emergence Day,” at least I kept my word. I’d instead celebrate your birthday, B. Even now, I don’t know what I would have done but 16. My greatest shame that you didn’t get to see it. Braxton, it makes that $50.00 I spent seem like nothing at all. Hell, it always comes back to money with me, doesn’t it? With the quality of the meal, you could have had all of it. I forget, can you have shrimp. No B III. Now that’s something you don’t miss, me telling you no. I bought some Mr. Goodbars, and since you’re not here…

Well, the house is still a mess. Sometimes I find myself stepping on this or that every once and a while. What it’s not like your mom is here. As a matter of fact, yesterday, I did a full-on photoshoot for my (Stuff And Thangs) Onlyfans. With a solid eight hours and a full stomach. Of course, I’m eating pancakes, and I would share plenty. I wonder how you would feel about the sausage and hash browns? Talk about stories I tell myself before bedtime. The Aunt Jemima breakfast you stole when you were but a small pancake yourself, Braxton. The things that pass for meat in the country and you and I aren’t vegetarians in any sense. At least you’re not mad at Subway.

No more Buffalo Chicken. You know I continue to imagine what did you in; besides my own hands. Was it the water? I got one of those notices for the fridge the other day. Before BK ripped me off, I ordered a lot from there with coupons. What was it B III? I don’t know? I’m having enough trouble filling my belly. I can’t worry about feeding another B III. Braxton, the dream I had about the candy dog, what were you trying to say to me playing my Virgil? I know what I know, and I’ll assume you’re stuffing your face. You deserve it. You know I would preach politics, but all my favorite foods are going away. Starvation, punishment? A Promise, B Eating

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 069 ~Tomorrow, Let It B~

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

Chronicle 066 ~To B Little Myself~

It’s always something small, as the song goes, The Little Things that get to me. Seconds with friends. Thoughts no one seems to notice. The death of my son. Another day out of the year I hate. And the voice in my head that wants “To B Little Myself.”

Sunday, September 5, 2021

Chronicle 066 ~To B Little Myself~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and money takes away all sense of shame? Hating yourself today? But yesterday, my sweet buttery Jesus.

Again I know I’m not ready for a dog. My dream tells me Hell NO. You can never ever ok. Before lunch, I didn’t wash my hands, sanitize, anything. I don’t fear dogs; it’s people. Good thing your Old Man didn’t hear that. Let me continue. Your teeth are fucked-up. I was about to steal Carolina Bound’s hubby’s drink at lunch because I wasn’t thinking. Of course, I didn’t offer to pay for lunch, and it’s not like I even ate much while with them. What about loading up the to-go box upside down. My ignorance made me puke, almost. It’s the little things that make me whisper the little words in the night. My apologies. That’s why you awoke late and Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Tampa by Alissa Nutting
    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 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Get Ready For My Thirty-Seventh Emergence Day
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Carolina Bound would hate the fact of worrying about yesterday that I did nothing, sigh. M Anime could take offense that I used answering her to forget about Carolina Bound. Another “friend” would be disgusted with me. She says that nobody jerks to her ever.
Besides the whole Terminator 3 “I Killed You” aspect, Braxton knows 217 I’m Not Alright. There’s the knowledge that you can count all your friends on only one hand? Revolting hands. Sweating but not because of work. Covered in blood, and you’d settle for that instead of your addiction. None of your friends say a goddamn word. Your enemies… Hell, could they do as much damage as you do to yourself day after day? Yours’s just started. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, The Theta Prophecy By Chris Dietzel
  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 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Survive The Thirty-Seventh Emergence Day
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

It seems like only yesterday that you lived through the worst week of your existence. Eeking with the last one was a mess, and would you try it now if this one, you know what. I guess while my shame is still so fresh, you find that a hard thing to contemplate. It is ok. Last night I laid there thinking, “I don’t want to do this anymore,” “I’m Thinking Of Ending Things,” “Stupid, Stupid, Stupid.” I fell to my knees, not before God but to get smaller. I thought I read to get brighter, but I need to cram my head full of everything. This week that’s Braxton, Emergence, Day Job. B was so tiny, but you love him always. To B Little Myself.

217 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 064 ~History of B Longing~

Last week I called myself a writer, and that’s without taking a writing class. Most think of me as a Sci-Fi Nerd, Geek, Freak, watch it, but that explains my Second BFF. She has a thing for nerds, whatever. History um, Jan 31. “History of B Longing.”

Friday, September 3, 2021

Chronicle 064 ~History of B Longing~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but this doesn’t allow me to change history. No matter how much I seek erasure, forgiveness.

It’s days like these… what Thursday, Time Travel? When I was young, I loved SCIENCE. Again Time Travel, wanting to raise the dead, and Hell if I die, I want my ashes to become a virus. Everything to be with B sigh, perhaps our ashes would mingle, hating people ha. Of course, Science involves plenty of Math. Well, I’ve spent this afternoon looking at how much money I’ve lost and for what. Writing, we’ll get to that. How about anatomy? If my “Stuff And Thangs” is any sign. Today I did write out my dream. The Science of it, okay. As close to the subject as I’ll ever get again. Sci-Fi references and defending never having another furry life in my hands. Never again, Sophia.

Because I’ve spent 215 days WRITING about the son I lost. I don’t believe I have ever taken a Writing class before; junior college? Of course, you’re saying that’s quite obvious with how I can never stay on subject. You could also look to yourself and the girls; now B. Baby Braxton always wanted more time with me, a man of few words he was. Only I gave myself over to them. I’ve been down here since 8 AM, and talking to you will account for 2000. I haven’t even left my seat. I should, I’m sure English teachers would approve. What about my next novel for the Big Show? NaNoWriMo in November. Am I hoping to cheat? Remember French?

Yet when I was in school, my subject was HISTORY. As you know, I feel some kinda way about my father, but he was ready to fight a History teacher for me. Calling me Professor. I don’t forget that my son is dead. How many times will I say it, Lady Sophia? Have I mentioned somebody else is sick of me talking about it? Oh, and lunch with B’s Aunt. Emergence Day is coming up fast, and what do I do before each one? CLEAN. I never took a Home Ec. course, and why would I decide to start tidying up? This was B’s home. It’s never another day, Lady Sophia. Each is brand new, trying to find a way to live without him. My lessons, History of B Longing.

215 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 063 ~B Selfish And Others~

I didn’t eat dinner last night thanks to Burger King, eww. T.M.I., but at least B wasn’t here to suffer with me as I didn’t get any fries. Not that I needed them. Now an Emergence Day meal, I was selfish to the both of us 2020. “B Selfish And Others”

Thursday, September 2, 2021

Chronicle 063 ~B Selfish And Others~

214 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I would tell you about yesterday, but I’m trying to avoid institutions. And for today?

You are a selfish little S.O.B., you know that. Before you think I’m angry like I almost was with your Aunt Carolina Bound, for no apparent reason. “You & Me” always and forever, like Father, like Son. So you being selfish was learned from me. You are B. Every single day you remain the first thought. Whether the Day Job or waking late. I’m pissed at myself about yesterday, but it serves me right because of forgetting your fries… I was even reminded of your birthday, your Sweet Sixteen, and wanting to go crazy. Selfish to think there would be more time, and you always wanted more of mine. And sitting here at the dining room table thinking if I had kept my promises B.

Didn’t I give those out by the truckload but actually executing them. Bad choice of words but B III, yesterday I went to Burger King thinking I would have enough for some days. STOLE my money, got a STOMACHACHE, “dude,” you’d SAY, “where’s my fries.” Trust me, you didn’t miss anything and with what I did to you? 214 Days B III, and I continue to feel pain. Only like Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting when he says, “My wife is dead.” I say, my son is dead; nothing beats that pain B. You’re gone, B III, I know. Everyone else knows too. A “friend” is sick of me talking about you. I’ll see your Aunt Saturday. M Anime says, bless your little soul.

What about mine, B? It’s getting around the time of “Emergence,” and I don’t have you to smother me. If my body is wracked in pain or lazy, what about my heart. My betrayal B. Saturday, I’ll be headed to PetSmart to pet the fur babies and then lunch with your Aunt and her hubby. A shared meal and there will be nothing for you. My Emergence Day meal B? How about my wish list? Your grandparents aren’t crazy enough to do some things. That dream I had a week or so ago meant I can’t be a dad. A Cuddle Clone, Stuff & Thangs? Fuck, I want my best friend back… you B III. Dance On Our Graves such selfishness. B Selfish And Others.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad