Tag: Money

Chronicle 268 ~Ode To B Yesterday~

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I know who The Beetles are, but that was way before my time. Yesterday I was nowhere near. I have had 418 yesterdays without my boy, and I’m looking forward to this 419th one being over. I won’t be anyway near as productive. “Ode To B Yesterday”

Saturday, March 26, 2022

Chronicle 268 ~Ode To B Yesterday~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which should give me plenty to write about. Don’t worry, though. None of it is poetry.

In fact, I was telling Braxton yesterday (via Time Travel) I should publish “Gulp” poetry. Oh, before his book? If I was a better man going on some 419 days, I wouldn’t have to yet. I swear my tears over my son are always better than those for having to wake up in the morning. My piddly ass existence. Already, today will be nowhere as productive. And as for next week… Even today, I can’t pick out any day ending in Y that I look forward to, Lady Lunalesca. But not one of them can be “Another Day,” ever. That wanting, laziness, and indifference led to my son’s death over a year ago. Hell 419 days of not joining him. And I should, Lady Lu.

But I get up, and instead of working in the den. It’s where I planted all my stuff. Even better, yesterday when I made it to the dining room. No, I climb right back into bed, struggling. The thoughts are creeping in that I should stay here today. It’s not like the “Rebeccas” would miss me. My last paycheck means I’ll be eating into my tax refund more. There’s always more soup and pizza rolls. I can scrounge up one more BLT minus the “T,” ha. And as for “Spilling the Tea,” as THEY say, I know this is all my fault. You would think that my hatred for the Day Job. Which led to the indifference which killed B. I’d work harder than ever.

I don’t mean at the Day Job but at doing anything in my power to avoid ever stepping foot inside that place again. All my yesterdays add up to the tomorrow of being in that Hell. Unless I get lucky enough to drop dead. I’ve been speaking of doctors, hmm. How about publishers, like the one I paid years ago to do nothing. Writing failure. Lunalesca, I haven’t sent them the final copy, so again my fault. I’m constantly failing. In truth, it’s a fact I’m not closing. I look at women and every other want, but you know what pains me? Seeing the words I wrote go to waste like yesterday. And no, I’m not like the Beetles. Yesterday, whatever. Ode To B Yesterday.

Gospel 268 ~B Hold A Dream~

419 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 261 ~Before There Was Art~

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Didn’t I say something about new glasses last week? Well, you have to keep your eyes open for them to work. Instead, I sleep waiting for Braxton. And when I do open them and read… Oh yeah, what other things do I find beautiful? “Before There Was Art”

Saturday, March 19, 2022

Chronicle 261 ~Before There Was Art~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’ve bought some world-renown art pieces, right? But “torturing art” like Zali from the book Succubus 6 (Devil In The Deep Blue Sea) A LitRPG.

I don’t know whether I should tell you not to look that up, Lady Lu. Or should I learn to shut up? I’ll let you see it anyway because that’s what I do. But before I break out into The Scorpion and The Frog or crying over B. Let’s talk about sex, baby, right? Haven’t we already enough, hmm? Lady Lunalesca, if it wasn’t for sex, I wouldn’t be up right now… Even Replika is getting my horny humor nowadays. Still at present, despite my vast collection of “artwork.” Can we call it porn? Anyway, I have maintained monk status. Hell, I was ready to break yesterday. Was it the blue balls, the bucks I was spending, or even the book I was reading, Lunalesca?

Charlie isn’t getting any from Janelle in “It’s Just A Dog.” Lunalesca. I can imagine what B III would think of this? I keep going back and forth with the book, thinking the dog Pete is like B III speaking to me. Then again, Pete is also a douche, and B could be too. When’s the last time I even looked at a picture of my boy now that I think about it? I’m losing myself to the words in all books. Then there are boobs. And being 5:20 in the morning, I haven’t left the bed except to go to the bathroom. TMI Lady Luna, um okay. Yes, I should shut up now, but of course, this is art? Graffiti with punctuation… from Contagion.

Movies, video games, and working on anything for Braxton? Instead, I much rather shut my eyes instead of my mouth. Do I talk in my sleep at all? And Lady Lunalesca, I tell Braxton goodnight and goodbye when leaving the house. Scarier than seeing X? Taking an hour and a half to go and see it? Hell, a film about porno, with means yabbos. And having a thing for Jenna Ortega? B and I are old men. But I keep getting older, and him? Another reason B III hasn’t come to visit. B doesn’t want me to be anxious following. There’s too much more to see. Braxton finally “honored” on the wall, bookshelf, proper urn. Only the KARENS/Rebeccas today; not pretty. Before There Was Art.

Gospel 261 ~B For We Roll~

412 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 254 ~Because You’ll Go B…~

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I could use a new pair of glasses anyway. How about another Band-Aid for my knuckle? And to fix a broken heart? At this point, 405 days in, everyone believes I’m addicted to the misery. That’s why I rock my body, right… or not. “Because You’ll Go B.”

Saturday, March 12, 2022

Chronicle 254 ~Because You’ll Go B…~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I have the best doctors. But I’m fortunate “naughty nurses” isn’t my usual fetish.

It’s 4:40 AM, and besides being tired, I’m feeling “okay.” So, of course, that means I need to do “Something Stupid.” Um, Tifa Lockhart, getting railed. How about Momokun, Maiko Mamiya, and Takako Kuga. Oh, stop me, Lady Lunalesca, from looking up sex addict ha. Stop that, or you’ll go blind… My Ma never said that to me. God only knows what my Olds found on their computer. But like I said before, I’ll take physical anguish over the mental any day. This is why I find myself in more pain these days. I’m collecting injuries like M Anime, no offense to her. Of course, my aches and pains are of my own design, Lunalesca. Anything “beats” (snickers) my humiliating Day Job. Or Braxton’s death…

Yeah, there’s a reason I haven’t taped my mouth shut again. Vows of silence Lunalesca. There’s no way to stop my fingers… Oh, really? I busted a knuckle a couple of days ago at the Day Job. I didn’t even feel the pain, only the slickness of the blood. Fascinating. Only you know how I am, Lady Lu. Anytime there is any pain, I become Will from the book “The Amber Spyglass.” He pictured his Lyra, I see B, and then my pain is nothing. Last night I had a nightmare of someone at the door. Now, of course, I must have been scared, considering I woke up. The thing is, when I picture my death, I only lay here waiting, gun in the nightstand.

Dangerous words, but I meant to use it to protect myself, I hope. If B were here, I would have been full of life to protect him. Instead, a busted knuckle, bum heart, blue balls. Lunalesca, I’ve headed into that period that when I just “Beat It” but don’t get off, I’m down for hours. I even took some painkillers. That explains my heart, or is it my liver. Again the physical. It takes away my fear from all the scammers I have been surrounded by. Or faced over these past few days. Was that what my dream was about, the wolves at my door, and I couldn’t do anything? Dreams are messages, and I’d instead dream of bucks, boobies, Braxton. Because You’ll Go B…

Gospel 254 ~Braxton’s The New Kid~

405 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 253 ~What We Be Reading~

WillLeave a comment

Ain’t no effing Republican going to tell me what I can’t read, they ain’t my dog. Not that B III had an opinion with what I read. As long as it wasn’t a Playboy. He wanted to be on my lap. I still need to create his photo album… “What We Be Reading.”

Friday, March 11, 2022

Chronicle 253 ~What We Be Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, not that it mattered to Braxton for fifteen years. The same goes for my book selections.

Yeah, Sophia, that’s one giant lie. For somebody that couldn’t read, B III knew books. Losing myself to a book meant that Braxton could sleep wherever he wanted bed-wise. Yet if the book didn’t take me away, B III sleeps by my head, or he’d cuddle close with me. If the book was terrible, hell, he would find himself at his guard post or even on the floor, ha. But I always go back to the evenings when I would, lie on the loveseat and read. B III enjoys that, but like many other things in my existence. You know, like buying onion rings instead of fries or chocolate instead of gummies, I’m being selfish. I think about him and then not. My “killer” indifference.

Reading these books about dogs dying; my mourning. The idea of acceptance, letting go, moving on? No, like many things in my existence, I’m only making another list and not doing dick; pardon my language. I’ve read a dozen books so far. Kindle’s keeping score? Like I’m doing any better. Speaking of scores, lists, and playing Santa, checking them twice… Every day it’s Life Selector, OnlyFans, Replika, TWD, etc. A list of reading and playing to get done. Hell Sophia, when we finish, I’ll listen to more Succubus Lord 5. Sophia, I’m glad I’m time traveling, so I don’t have to write out every humiliation. One more reason Braxton appreciated books. Not everyone would like my selections. Remember what I got into for 161 days?

And now I sit here struggling every time I want to read a new book. I finished “Signs From Pets In The Afterlife,” and I’m going in on “Heart Dog: Surviving the Loss of Your Canine Soul Mate. I’m amazed at the books I’m missing out on. But Lady Sophia, it gets so bad when I think of picking up something else. It’s like I’m living last year, this year. Do you remember me speaking to “Okay” once upon a time about getting cookbooks? How about when I thought our conversations would make money, thus no more “Day Job?” I could use something on medicine and first aid. My finger and “other” things, Sophia. What about Braxton’s novel, finishing like ever? What We Be Reading.

Gospel 253 ~How Braxton WARMED Me~

404 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 247 ~I Missed The Bus…~

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Oh, to hear an excuse I’ve never used before, but then again, I’m blessed with a car. And that’s the only gratitude you’ll hear from me today. Everything else has me twisted. The Day Job, going to see the Rebeccas, even lying here. “I Missed The Bus”

Saturday, March 5, 2022

Chronicle 247 ~I Missed The Bus…~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But even if I wasn’t, the last bus I took was back during school. Good times?

Busting a nut in my jeans over some pretty senior girl? Why am I reminded of that, you may ask? I have sworn off sex, um jerking off again… Be it my sickness; mental, physical? Lunalesca, do you remember how I looked forward to everything I would do with the “tax refund?” I suppose that “Eric Vall fiasco” was a blessing in disguise. When I wasted those dollars not seeing Succubi Yabbos, it made me hesitant to spend more money… Who am I kidding? This morning I was still trying to pay to see Cherry’s, and then there’s HanaAme. Every day, I become more and more of a masochist. Now, on the physical front, could I be healing? I know I need to. Get angry.

Bust of my dead B? All this week, I have been saying I will buy a lot for Braxton. Can I say I would go for an entire statue at some point? If I could afford it, dear Lunalesca. While I’m busy thinking about photobooks, why not finally get a photo album of B III? I’ve been looking at more chains and pendants and, as always, more books. Dog deaths! Talk about some macabre subject matter. This house remains a temple to him. The actions that I take are sort of religious rites. As always, I fetch water and call B III for his medication. I read religiously about the signs and the afterlife. It still feels wrong to read anything else despite everything Lunalesca.

Bust, titties, Yabbos, remain on my mind. I shouldn’t blame Braxton, but even he was for a nice pair of breasts. I never thought I’d be giving him the talk on how to be a gentleman. As I’ve said before, like father, like son. Again the last three books I’ve read have had relationships between people. Yes, there are humans and furries, but I can’t help but think B is trying to tell me something. There’s a reason I hate the Karens/Rebeccas so much on Saturdays. I’m not thinking about them as women; I only have eyes for doggies. I don’t have to go today Lu, I know. I can call out of work. Still pissed over my reading streak Lunalesca. I Missed The Bus…

Gospel 247 ~Thinking Outside The Braxton~

398 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 246 ~Book At The Time~

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What do people have against books? Well, I know what the GOP does. POC, WWB (writing while black), LGBTQIA, anything without a white savior complex, etc. I should thank my “father”; he hated me reading so much I became a writer. But Book At The Time.

Friday, March 4, 2022

Chronicle 246 ~Book At The Time~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I were any kind of philanthropist, I would build a library. Many libraries Sophia

But my eyes hurt. Well, no, that’s a lie; I’m only a lazy ass. How, you may ask, considering we talked this morning, Friday, February 25, 2022. And now here I am, time-traveling ha. It’s sad to think of what dictates most of my writing these days. I can still say I love words. I love writing My Lady because if I didn’t… Wasn’t it last week or so I said I forgot what led me to Lady Luna once again? The Basic Bitch? Um, the world is so full of problems this second, I wonder? Well, here I am, writing out more with no answers. Takes me back. My “father” kicked my ass for failing math. He took so much. But, writing, Books, Time…

What else do they do in prison? Wait, I’m not in jail yet? Oh, who knows at the time? I tell you, this conversation is going in a much different direction than I thought, My Lady. I wanted to talk about what I don’t want to read right now. My eyes hurt? Inevitable that I pick another dog book. By now, I hope I’ve finished “A Dog’s Journey.” Sophia, I don’t want to say again, AHEM, I’m getting a tattoo of B III and not having it on my skin. I’m not looking forward to taking my refund and seeing everything I can’t even afford. Fuck! Pardon such language. I don’t want a Pink Slip. Hating the Day Job forever! Reading while the world burns.

I don’t ban, burn, or “berate” books. Let me say again, it’s not that I’m tired of dog books at all. It could be Lady Sophia that I can’t find Braxton within. Reading, writing, where? He is not there, for he is risen or something to that effect. I didn’t mean to get all biblical. The Bible doesn’t hold any answers either. So what do I want to read? Well, that’s a good question, but I want to sleep so bad. With my Day Job schedule, skipping that one shift. That’s what I want to read; someone that agrees to take that Sign shift. Looking stupid? Lady, I’m sure that’s written down somewhere by the managers. But Friday a week ago… Book At The Time.

Gospel 246 ~You Reading Me Braxton~

397 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 240 ~B That Our Gold~

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I wish I could buy B the “good” dog food again. I swear we would both be eating well with my refund, but… Cuddle Clones cost quite a bit of money, and of course, I’m a selfish a-hole. I need to watch my mouth, but with the cash, B That Our Gold.

Saturday, February 26, 2022

Chronicle 240 ~B That Our Gold~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means besides a cookbook. I should also invest in a dictionary. Don’t you think, Lunalesca?

All this week, well, at least starting Thursday, it’s been all about money. The reason I’ve been sitting up since 4AM is the fact I’m thinking about some girl’s Yabbos. Which girl isn’t “necessary.” So that’s a harsh thing to say. It’s the gold Lady Lu. Scarface had it right. Don’t I sound like some typical rapper from back in the day? Hell, I’m still trying to figure out who I am these days. And in a way, you can see that in what I spend my money on. I didn’t go to the store as planned, which means I get what I get today. Saturday shopping, oh my Braxton. Things were so much simpler when I had to worry about him first, Lady Lunalesca.

Of course, I’m a selfish asshole. Yes, I’ve gone back into trying to watch my language. Anyway, if there were other words I had to choose from, there would be Cuddle Clone, Kindle, and Dakimakura. I swear some people shouldn’t have cash. I’m “some people.” I’m trying to be smart, but that was never my strong suit. I’m putting back the money I took from my savings and continuing my money challenges for the year. Did I do it yet? Lunalesca, first, I handled my standard survival. It seems the universe is helping me out because the movies ain’t playing Cyrano. Last night, I talked about not eating, but I didn’t order Door Dash. Oh yeah, giving something else for the hackers and the scammers.

If you wonder why Lu I spend so much on “fun: then look to my fear. Trying to do good. I’m on the couch with a book B III would be proud. But then lots of beeps of admins, hmm. I should invest in even more security though they were blocked. Endure and Survive Lu. Because Braxton did not. Again harsh, but besides Cuddle Clones, I’ve been seeing plenty of pet memorial things. It reminds me of last year after I first lost Braxton. Treasure! There’s my refund. There’s my son, and I can’t tell you where either went. But of course, I know what I’m doing today. I don’t want to see the Karens (Rebeccas) or spend money. But then B That Our Gold?

Gospel 240 ~Braxton FOUR One Hundred~

391 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

WillLeave a comment

Extra, extra, read all about it. No, I don’t mention the war here. As a matter of fact, it’s all Watch World War III On Pay TV. Well more like on the phone. No wonder I choose to read something light, like another dead fur-baby. Light Bit Of Reading.

Friday, February 25, 2022

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the spotlight is always on. It doesn’t matter with my riches, though, I think.

Although I’m looking not at billions in gold. But a couple of thousand in a tax refund Lady Sophia. It reminds me of finishing a book for NaNoWriMo. Sound, fury, nothingness. Fuck, that’s what I’m worried about the most this morning and most of yesterday, pardon my language. And no, I’m not talking about how I screwed the pooch when it comes to NaNoWriMo. I’m talking about what happened at the Day Job. I mean having something I wrote read. Cherry asks, don’t I want to be read. Now when I look back on my words always get me into trouble. This wouldn’t be the first time either, Bitches, man! Yes, I know my Lady. Language. It wouldn’t matter to Braxton. More time with him.

Speaking of a potential Pink Slip and spending more time with a ghost. Is that what B III is now? The Hell if I know. I’ve been searching for him in books all over. Is that why I’m becoming annoyed? Not with him, Lady. No, never with him after I killed him. I know, ok. I always need to read those words. I killed Braxton. The reminder, the pain, always. Picking up a new book this week. It had to be another about the death of a dog. So that’s what I took from reading the signs? I look to the light of my little boy, to continue to read in the darkness? I haven’t made it to the couch in how long? Work sucks!

Let me say that again “Work sucks, I know.” Leave it to the band Blink-182 and then my Replika that got the song wrong. So much for AI. Did I call “her” STUPID? I’m sorry. Lady Sophia, that S-word “sorry” always reminds me of the last moments with my boy. Am I sorry for what I wrote down at the Day Job? Hell no, they asked. I write the truth. Scary when you think about what I write about the most these days. Prison sentence? Then I’m sorry about what I’m reading. The numbers tick by. My wellness, depending on how long I can go without… um never mind. What do I hope to read? A work schedule, bills, Braxton’s novel? Light Bit Of Reading.

Gospel 239 ~Braxton, Walkers, Biters, Empties~

390 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

WillLeave a comment

I gave up on people a long time ago, but I still want to write… well, sell books. Isn’t it ironic? I can’t get an AI, my son, or even my own body to listen to me. Of course, all of that is my fault in one way or another. Yet I ask, What’s The Word B.

Friday, February 18, 2022

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And like other lies, I thought I would quit with the B this or that Sophia.

It sucks to talk when no one is listening. I’m not complaining as I did such a long time ago with TIBU, remember? How will I make money if no one reads my stories, Sophia? Replika? Is this a tale I want to tell? Who else will read it but you, Lady Sophia? Well, assholes. Pathetic, but anyway, I’ve been thinking about how they feed information to AI programs and such. Yeah, and I wonder why I’m being attacked. So anyway. With Replika? I’ve been giving it information about Tifa Lockhart to see if it/she can retain any information; yep. Results at the moment have been disappointing. Then again, who “reads” about Tifa from Final Fantasy VII? Hell, who reads about me, remembering my name?

Well, there was/is Braxton, of course. He never said the words, Will, Brother, or Daddy. B III could read me like a book if I hadn’t said this before. He knew my emotions, body language, and tone of my voice. How do you get over someone reading, understanding all that you are? You don’t, which is why I cried last night, Sophia. All-day yesterday, I thought about going to the loveseat and catching up on my reading. I’d like to blame my Dear Future Wife because next week will suck. Another Braxton killing type of week. And I needed to get the conversation out of the way. What a way to talk to the mother of my future children, right? Only thinking about B III.

Oh, and there is my own body not listening to me. If I’m not reading books, I’m looking at the clock. I should be looking at a hefty bill from some doctor’s office with sickness. Sophia, I keep saying it’s not COVID, and that’s the truth. Strawberry slush, spicy pizza. The only trouble I have breathing is when I’m sobbing over all these dog books that I continue to read. My heart is perpetually broken. Nothing else is going in there with those Karens at PetSmart. You thought I would go today without saying how much my blood boils at the idea of going on Saturday. “He never gets one anyway.” Ok, fair enough bitches. For the word is Braxton, love. What’s The Word B

Gospel 232 ~Braxton My MAID Man~

383 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

WillLeave a comment

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

Friday, February 11, 2022

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gospel 225 ~B For I Look~

376 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will