Chronicle 028 ~Million B’s To Ehh~

It’s written that brevity is the soul of wit. With B III’s statute, should I have written a “short” story? So, I’m not funny, but I’m not a lot of things. I’m only human after all, and hopefully, I’ll have 50,000 words saying what? Million B’s To Ehh

Thursday, July 29, 2021

Chronicle 028 ~Million B’s To Ehh~

179 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day has been pretty busy writing, but of course, you’ve seen my condition before.

Well, um, I’m a bit worse for wear. I even talked to your aunt this evening, and she had to make sure I was eating. I’m not bathing, and I have barely made it out of bed, but again, you know I’m talking to you late. Past 8:30, so you should have your meds, Braxton. Speaking of some medication, I should probably take something myself. I already cleaned out those Jell-O shots. Now, how many times have you seen me drunk? You remember what that’s like. Remember the time you had the tick in your ear, and I carried you. Braxton, you couldn’t even get off the bed; that brings me right back to today. Tomorrow should be better, B. I’ll be finishing your novel.

I know what you’re thinking. For all the times I participated in NaNoWriMo, and you had to sit here and watch. I’ve written about 500,000 words total, and that’s with all of them. At 50,000 words each, that’s about ten books. In treats and French Fries, that’s not a lot. Braxton, if I had published and was successful, well, it would be all you can eat for yourself. I swear, B, I would buy a franchise and let you hang out. With that cute face of yours, let them try to complain about health codes. Or does a vest work in these situations, you think? I thought writing this book would be easier because I didn’t have to look up much of anything. Our lives.

You know how I say BLM, Braxton’s Life Matters. All about you, B, and if I wasn’t a disappointing enough Daddy, I’m a crappy writer. I’m always down, especially now, not that your story isn’t compelling. If anything, I only want to do it justice, and so far, B III. Hell, I was reading over it all day today. Well, I realized there is still a lot that’s left unsaid. Either that or I repeat myself again and again. The truth, what happened doesn’t change. Even if I were Shakespeare reincarnated, it wouldn’t help if I never share your story. This might even be the last page of it, Braxton. Reincarnation huh? I was saying I didn’t know why I wrote. Million B’s To Ehh

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 024 ~Does B Give A’s~

As Negan would put it, “today was a productive damn day,” not that this SOB did it all. 4800 words when I should have 5000. There’s still time, isn’t it? Not with the Olympics and a pretty girl’s words. “Does B Give A’s,” if he knew me back in school

Sunday, July 25, 2021

Chronicle 024 ~Does B Give A’s~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because Braxton was a Hell of a teacher. You’re writing a Hell of a story.

Okay, so one of those things ain’t true. I don’t know if B III has forgiven me, and you won’t know by the end of this week. If Braxton could grade you on being a parent as you once graded your own Ma. As you judge your Father. What do you think you would receive? All I can tell you is that now I’m proud of you. You didn’t quite get 5000 words. 4800 to be accurate unless you want to go for the gold. You’ll save that for the Olympics you’re going to watch, ha? Go TEAM USA! You know this country isn’t looking too good in other yep. I don’t mean to get on politics with you considering everything and Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus Lord 18 (Succubus Lord #18) by Eric Vall
    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 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of Braxton
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Yeah, I fucked up again, pardon my French. One more reason to miss Braxton that you should add to the novel, well, two. He never cared if you “Messed Up.” Hell, it was with his death that you might as well start singing “That’s How You Know You Fucked Up.”
This brings up just how much you will lose this week. Today you were on the verge of greatness. I’m talking about a mere 400 words from meeting where you should be on NaNoWriMo. Do you think it matters to B if you make it to 50,000 words in his memory?
It doesn’t matter to anyone else either, but it’s like you’re under a spell. As Jacob would play Only You and Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus Lord 18 (Succubus Lord #18) by Eric Vall
  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 Finish Braxton’s Novel (Yet To Be Titled)
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Braxton was such a patient teacher. Lying there as you looked up YouTube videos in-between writing. He watched so many NaNoWriMo’s and camps and listened to the excuses you would give about the life that he should have. Do you think his life was an A+? When you’re done, will you put your work out there to be critiqued, graded, judged by the rest of the world? Don’t look at it through the lens of their being so much worse. Yeah, with these two weeks, and hopefully, you’ll catch all of the next one. Needing advice? Don’t let this day go to waste. How you’ve come so far, and you have 11,400 more words to go. Don’t make your future self-ask. Does B Give A’s?

175 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 022 ~Ringing Up B III~

I don’t like Beyoncé, but I’m more a Survivor than looking for the Single Ladies. Surviving as I am. I still miss B III. One collar is on my nightstand, and the last one is in his bed. I’m not buying anymore and as far as women. Ringing Up B III

Friday, July 23, 2021

Chronicle 022 ~Ringing Up B III~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t wear much jewelry. There’s my urn pendant, my high school pendant… wedding band?

There’s a better chance I’ll get a dog’s collar than an engagement ring anytime soon. Carolina Bound asked me about women a couple of weeks back. I still remember I would joke with her that the first woman that B liked I would have to marry. Sorry about that B. M Anime and I were talking about jewelry too a while back. Braxton will never get to meet her. Hell, at the rate she’s been going, I might not get to either. She’s pretty accident-prone. Not that I’m looking “for something dumb to do” with her yet… But Braxton? There’s no story about putting a ring on him. I don’t remember where his first collar came from, the one sitting on my nightstand this second.

My sister gave him a shiny collar once, which broke while she was walking him. She told me she had to chase him all around the neighborhood. We were on the edge of losing him way back then. I remember plenty of people and animals liked him. Loving or Lunch? But, his original collar never let me down. I never looked at it as a mark of ownership but security. Hell, the only time Braxton was ever out of my sight was when he was in the backyard doing what dogs do. I doubt the collar would have helped B. Dammit, my kid was just too cute; somebody would have snatched him right up. I’m glad the backyard fence is standing. My neighbor’s, however, yikes.

Now Braxton’s “Hippy Dippy” collar, I called it, was a gift from the people at The Dog Stop. They must have figured he was looking pretty rough. It was Braxton’s first day of daycare. I’m sure if we were outside the car, Braxton and I would have been fighting, huh. I always made jokes about him being NAKEY without his collar. My heart stopped a few times when his nails would get caught in the ring. I swear B III was helpless and so strong. I’ve said this before, but he was my superhero. PetSmart gave him these little bandanas. The Hippy collar rests in his bed now. I can’t do it, getting another dog, finishing Braxton’s story, or liking it. Ringing Up B III

173 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 021 ~The Letter B Moves~

What’s doing more blinking, the cursor on the page or my eyes. B’s who I miss the most right now, but that’s not what my book is saying. I can’t fail B this month as I did in January, but that requires me to get up and move. The Letter B Moves

Thursday, July 22, 2021

Chronicle 021 ~The Letter B Moves~

172 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Should I even try to tell you about mine? No, I haven’t even lived it.

Today is Tuesday, and I’m trying to stay ahead. Do you remember when you were sick? You don’t want to, right but let me get this out. If I could do it again, B III, I’d pick you up and rush you to Banfield Hospital right this second. Could they have saved you B III? Yeah, because I was much too busy. It’s been the theme of this week. There is so much to do, and when I have time, what do I do. Today I had to talk to two of the girls and get to writing your novel. We’ll get to that, but I believe you know what the answer is Triple B.
You’re not sitting under the table or in my lap.

All the time in the world B, and money, Ha. How many times did you hear me talking about writing? Now instead of books, I want to go right back to bed. It’s a miracle that I even got to the table today. Of course, by the time you read this, I’ll be right back there. Yes, the Day Job remains horrible, which is one of the reasons I am writing to you today. It’s like anyone asking me there, “How are you?” I should say “Pissed” and then “Wait.” It’s only a matter of moments before THEY do something to fulfill such a prophecy. “Daddy, what about me?” I hear you, Braxton; I do, but like the novel, I’m writing. Nothing moves anymore, son.

If it hadn’t been 172 Days, I would think you left only yesterday. I was telling Dear Future Wife, the mom you’ll never get to know, that the tears I continue to shed are cleansing. Um, it’s like I’m in ice, nothing can get to me between, bed, boobs, and you B III it’s cold. Braxton sometimes, I melt, and I go everywhere. It’s as if I overflow, but then there’s not enough of me to fill up any glass. The bed’s not going anywhere, and neither are you. I miss being a monk; that’s how you always were, my Pancake. I haven’t eaten anything. I have to keep the cursor moving; I don’t want to fall even further behind. Trying, The Letter B Moves.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 015 ~B Not Another Day~

Did this day stand out in any way other than “That’s How You Know You Messed Up?” At least I have an idea for another chapter of Braxton’s book. If I am writing Braxton’s book. I’m not even at 25,000 words yet. “B Not Another Day”

Friday, July 16, 2021

Chronicle 015 ~B Not Another Day~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be; if I were more creative and not working the Day Job. Time-Travel

Back to those vet visits in February, and no, not the last one. I mean, the ones I knew B III would be leaving ok and alive. It wasn’t a holiday but a mark on the passage of time. I’d take him in for his yearly exam, and then the idea was to keep him out of there till next. To be fair, this year, his appointment was on January 8, 2021. Then there was the 29th and finally the 31st. Of course, what he didn’t see in February was his 16th birthday. A trip to the vet and his birthday netted the same reward… McDonald’s. B’s birthday was more. Now, if you’re wondering why I’m going over B’s history, yes, there is his book.

I’m trying to find days that were “important” to us and had an actual date too. For example, I’ve said that my “Emergence Day” is no longer the worst day of my life. Yet B was here to see me through 15 of them. I sooner do his math than mine, and so 166 Days. Come November, Thanksgiving Day, which to B III was his Christmas. There was more than enough for us both when my mom would deliver our meal. I’ve said it feels weird when I don’t have to share. These eyes are bigger than my stomach, I told his aunt at lunch. Now that wasn’t another day. Life attempts to be Every Day Is Exactly the Same, but Everything Is Different Now.

Like Christmas, do I go and visit my Olds? Hell, could I do that even if I wanted to for brunch? I wouldn’t go because B III wasn’t invited. It’s not like the two of us celebrated but isn’t that a time for family. When/If I have some family, don’t I plan on it, Sophia? How I wish to remember the day that B hopped in the car, and we drove away, us two ha. I want the day back when we sat on the porch, and I said, “It’s just us now B III, ok?” What about the day before when I finally came back to my Olds, and B III saw me, sniffles? I’m listening to his playlist because; B Not Another Day.

166 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 014 ~B III And More~

Day XV now, and am I doing any better when it comes to my boy? I wouldn’t be asking that. If I had been 165 days ago? Yeah, Roman numerals aren’t my strong suit. I only needed to count to III before. Now I need 50,000 words for “B III And More.”

Thursday, July 15, 2021

Chronicle 014 ~B III And More~

165 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Sometimes I envy you not having to worry about what time it is, well until…

15 years 11 months. All you know is one day, there was a whole carton of fries for you and a bit of a burger. If your aunt was here, maybe she would make you a cake. Did I tell you I had lunch with her last week? I guess she didn’t want to make me too sad B III. That day she barely said your name Braxton, but I don’t blame her. As I said, you were a month shy of 16, and you would think I could give you this month. It was too fresh, last Camp NaNoWriMo, but I still got 50,000 words done. Now I’m lazy with 16 days to go. Braxton, I would apologize, but if I do that today…

Why only today? I have been telling you I’m sorry going on 165 Days with you gone. Hell 166 if we count the day that you left. I’m at the dining room table, and you’re not here, Braxton, on your pillow under it, waiting for me. What I wouldn’t give to speak to you B. Well, the COVID vaccine is free, or so I keep hoping. If I were to die… A dangerous concept I know, thinking about dying and all. Three needles helped you on your way, one to make sure, two to bring you peace, and the third sent you to the Rainbow Bridge. I got two Braxton. On that day, I said that “I got to Braxton.” I didn’t want your suffering.

You would have pretended always and forever if it stopped me from feeling this way. I’ve long since passed counting up the days from one stage of grief to the next. Only I’m never going to go into five. How could that ever be possible? Packing up your things B? Have you been watching me read The Man That Watched The World End? Ironic since I am that guy. You were about 79, and with how tired I’ve been, 82 sounds about right? Um, my point is, there is no way in Hell I could burn your stuff. B III they did burn you, yep. Wish I was there, Braxton. So yeah, another apology, how many is that which do nothing B III And More.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 008 ~A Chapter To B~

Friday, July 9, 2021

Chronicle 008 ~A Chapter To B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so does that mean I can finally get some sleep? Seeing how far I’ve come now…

Hell No! If anything, I owe 3000 words. Maybe less if you count all of my B III letters. The truth is, for today, I’m pretty wiped out, and I still have much farther to go. I do mean outside the house. At least I have been writing about Braxton in novel form every day. Okay, that’s a lie. I added a hundred words on NaNoWriMo once so I could win the daily badge. Being a half-ass writer as I was being a half-ass Daddy. So what is my excuse this week, other than the vaccine’s side effects? “Fatigue” sounds like a made-up word Sophia. If I haven’t said it before (yeah, right), I got my second dose coming up. There’s also lunch with Carolina.

Other than work and keeping myself existing, my story has been within these walls. I had the silly notion last night that I would go to the movies today. So I’m all dressed up, but that’s because again, (ahem) EXISTENCE, EXISTENCE, EXISTENCE! Too much! Today going on and on about Braxton got me into such a mood and not really “Fiddler on the Roof.” I’m more like “In The Sun” is that why I’m wearing my yellow hoodie today? Again not Acceptance. I’ll never get tired of the color black and B’s hippy collar. So you’re asking why I am not telling a B III story right this second. After 2,300 words, would Braxton be sick of hearing about himself? And yeah, I still suck.

Even Facebook nailed me talking about the vaccine the other day and dying. Hmm, I’d be worried if I didn’t know that I would get my ass up and go whenever the Day Job calls. If B III hadn’t been suffering, I would have held him and never ventured out. Interesting, another story Lady Sophia, the path not taken. They could have given him medicine to make him eat. Braxton would never make it to 100%, but he would have lived longer. I’m never one to put something off unless it’s good for me. Braxton’s life, publishing a book, games, movies, music. As the song goes, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” A life without B, Lady Sophia? A Chapter To B

159 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 007 ~B’s Dead To Writes~

VIII days into Camp NaNoWriMo, and yep, I’m writing about B III now. Well, damn, the last six months, and I’m already so far behind. The vaccine does cause fatigue, doesn’t it? I’m still alive, and with my second dose, who knows. “B’s Dead To Writes”

Thursday, July 8, 2021

Chronicle 007 ~B’s Dead To Writes~

158 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sorry for the title card if they ever make your story into a movie.

Your story or ours, in case you’re wondering where I’ve been today. 2,200 more words down, and I know you’re thinking to yourself, Daddy should be further along than this. Do you remember the last NaNoWriMo we did, and we stayed out in the chill? Well, I did, but you didn’t want to leave me alone out in the darkness but Braxton, writings my life? Then why was I at the Day Job when you needed me the most? I despise those people, and then I came back, told you to shush, and went to sleep. You stood guard always. Braxton, I don’t mean to be rehashing all this, but I was working on your novel again. It’s still untitled. Beyond Boys: Braxton Barks Bradford.

No disrespect to the LGBTQIA community (that’s a lot of letters, ain’t it)? Anyway, all my titles seem to come off as GAY. Speaking of not, I talked to your aunt a few days ago, B. Have you seen her?

The last time Carolina Bound was around, I ordered onion rings at lunch, and you were peeved; I didn’t bring you anything. It’s the little stories like that which might make a good book, Braxton. That’s if I ever get it done, and I will; it’s for you after all. So was the album I never finished, and what about my tattoo? Oh, I’ve had my run-in with needles B with COVID-19 and all. I’ll never forget that you saw me through what THEY think was the worse year. 2020

2021, the only year that beats the one I was born into. Who knows B III? In all honesty, I was hoping the vaccine would do its worst, poetic justice. I shouldn’t talk like that. Living, I am alive, more like existing. But you saved my life more times than I can remember. I wish you could tell me what you want from me. Every day I remember the vet and that look you gave me as they told me the worse news ever. Smarty-Pants. Braxton, you said, “I want to go home. Can we go home, Daddy?” I wrote my name, and you ended up in a box. Will a book be any better? My B’s Dead To Writes

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 005 ~Won’t B Letting Go~

I had to let him go when he finally found a girl he liked. I did when he had my children to look after. Yeah, a man can dream. When I did let him go, back, in reality, I had no place to live once, and then there was January 31st. “Won’t B Letting Go”

Tuesday, July 6, 2021

Chronicle 005 ~Won’t B Letting Go~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which is a good thing because diamonds are forever, or so THEY say. I’m buying more…

Only I’m not going to break out my best impression of Kanye West and Jamie Foxx if you know what I mean. You’re not about that but then again, as Beyoncé put it, “’Cause if you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it. Well, didn’t I? And I’m not letting you go. Does that sound sort of creepy? You’ll have to forgive me, seeing as well that it is the new year after all. A new year, a new start, and me with my broken heart, and do you even ask anymore. Again diamonds are forever, but what about ashes, whatever of authorship. Would you tell me to take my entire left arm, which will bear my memories of my firstborn son?

I could not let go of my love for him as I can never be free of the love I have for all of our kids. They are ours, as was B. He didn’t let go. Baby Girl, I did. My failure and my disgrace. I will not let go of the truth of what I have done. For what am I without it. I am a man, a Daddy, and my grip has not loosened a bit on those I love and protect. Perhaps sanity? Can you blame me? Okay, I started writing today earnestly, passionately, and still, I fucked it up. Every word I write draws closer to two, “The End.” How about goodbye? What about the worse of all, you know Acceptance?

In 156 Days, not one has ended without a tear shed for him. How many would I cry if B III’s death cost me the family that I promised him so long ago? Again I look to my left hand, there’s your love, across my arm, him. To my right, I hold my other children. Perhaps there is a reason that dogs were given paws. Even Braxton had his moments when he would want me to let him go, to put him down… will I stop being so morbid. As I said, I was writing of him today, and that comes out as; well it ain’t good it can’t be.
But I won’t be letting go of him or of love. Won’t B Letting Go

156 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 363 ~I’ll B… I’ll Write~

B on four little legs taught me to write. He taught me Patience, Persistence, Prose; brevity is the soul of wit. With so many pretty girls in this city and dreams of a mom, he’d never meet, I knew more of love from my furry kid. “I’ll B… I’ll Write.”

Tuesday, June 29, 2021

Gospel 363 ~I’ll B… I’ll Write~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I shouldn’t be, or of course, it wasn’t enough to save him. I’m still trying.

You know I tell Braxton that every day. Braxton wasn’t one for “writing” prose, platitudes, and all the promises I couldn’t deliver. Brevity is the soul of with THEY teach. Of everything I have ever written, he only needed one letter with all that I have said. Always there is B. My son kept me on point more than any English teacher I ever had. B III had more faith in my novelizations than anyone, well before you, sure. I remember every three months, that’s two Camp NaNoWriMos, and then in November. Braxton always returned. He’d sit on his pillow, by my side in bed, or on the couch, and he would wait. The life he had traded for the life I hoped to give.

Now I look at the white of the pages before me. So what was the first thing I did, baby girl? I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I took his character out. One death wasn’t enough for me. I was living what it takes to be a decent writer; that involves suffering. My Love, I gave life to this love I have for you and as Shakespeare said um; art thou happy. The names of our children come from years upon years of “research” well novel reading. Their love of reading comes from the concept that I read and encourage such pursuits. What brought in my first million was a bestseller here, a collection there, my scripts? Black across white, like us.

But 149 days, and even now, I’m Not Alright. Braxton got me to pursue the lives of others, but here’s the catch. Love letters, lamentations, the loose screws in my head, those words came no matter what. Braxton never taught me to say goodbye, and I don’t want to now. So here I am starting in July writing a book believing in some marvelous masterpiece. Love, it will probably be more of the same, “I love you, I’m sorry.” Lots of that I know, okay. Only I don’t want to say goodbye to my family; what remains, writing, I’m STUPID. Because I don’t know how to be alright without him. Words that bring life also bring death. I’ll be okay someday… I’ll B… I’ll Write.

149 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will