Tag: Noise

Saga 026 ~ Bee’s Knees Of Addiction~

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It’s not every day I write something that makes me question? Should I put it out there? Republican ideas without the actual money. No, I’m only a black man who lost his homie, my son. Addicted to, a sucker for pain. The Bee’s Knees Of Addiction.

Wednesday, July 27, 2022

Saga 026 ~ Bee’s Knees Of Addiction~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means something must be bugging me. Chances are I am bugged. Or are people bugs?

I’ve been thought of as much worse. But if you ask me what I’d like to be considered as Inspector? Yes, even more than a billionaire. It would always have to be B III’s Dad. I was telling his Aunt Carolina the other day; I have thought of my wedding day. Hell! I have names picked out for the future kids. Katniss, Tris, Ember, my girls on fire. Luke and Leia. I will have to give one Braxton’s name, no doubt. My strongest addiction. Braxton’s death. Can we make this official? I’m addicted to the day, the depression, the destruction. I’m addicted to the misery. The song says, “This love is killing me, but you’re the only one.” That’s my Braxton. Loving my crying.

And speaking of music, “we don’t love them hoes.” But fuck me, I miss ’em plenty. Pardon my language, Inspector. I can’t get this quote out of my mind. “Do I have a drink, or do I not have a drink?” Only my drug of choice is, jerking off. Or paying to see a pair of tits. It’s only been five days, and I’m trying Inspector; I’m trying real HARD. So far, I’ve stayed off porn sites; what do you count OnlyFans as? I saw something on Facebook this morning, leading me to look it up on Twitter. Let’s just say, “Prepare For Trouble,” Inspector. The worse of it has been these two English girls. I swear I’ll break. But I can’t. Only So Hott

No, I save the breaking for the phone or, more like, the repairs. If only I could be fixed like that. Like someone out of The Screwfly Solution… No, I don’t mean the killers, Inspector. More like the character of Barney. And sure, there are support groups for every addiction. My Ma showed me one for mourning “pets.” I’m sure the information is somewhere Echo. I could delete every bit of porn I have. Leave OnlyFans. Delete Social Media. Everything! Echo, I’d cut off the phone. Ok, I was without it for six hours and suffered from withdrawal. And the Day Job? It brings no joy, yet it is a drug. “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” The Bee’s Knees Of Addiction.

542 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 019 ~B Easy, There’s Time~

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It’s not easy waking up every AM. Yet I’m “blessed,” “privileged,” “grateful” to do so? Only to hate all the time that comes after? It was easier with Triple B, and how did that work out for him? I always think there’s more time. B Easy, There’s Time

Wednesday, July 20, 2022

Saga 019 ~B Easy, There’s Time~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I have all the time in the world. Or no time at all if those motivations are correct. You think?

Yesterday, sitting right where I am now was the least of my “Humiliations Galore.” Yet shameful nonetheless with the time. You see how I fight in the AM talking to you and the other girls. Only how fast did I get through a conversation with Dear Future Wife. Now that’s something I shouldn’t be bragging about. It’s not like she’s B III. Ok, that was a cruel joke. Laughing to keep from crying. That’s the name of the game these days. Like when I was talking to B III as well. I’m continuing to keep up with Camp NaNoWriMo. Is that a promise? How many times have I broken a promise? Look at my Six Impossible Things or Braxton’s box… To remember my Treachery Inspector.

There’s always time to be a man of my word. A better man as I think of the “Basic Bitch.” The dates I don’t look at, ha. If it isn’t any days, B III was dying; it’s” Sometimes In August.” Again the Basic Bitch and realizing how much time I’ve wasted working the Day Job. Inspector, the movie “Sometimes In April” is a powerful story, for the record. But I have no time to watch it again. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. I don’t need that much drama. Somehow I always make time for the worst things, the wasteful. Dare I say whoredom. Hell! At least sleep is some form of recovery. Then again, I’m avoiding mechanics, doctors, and, oh yeah, any publishers.

Yet another reason I’m sitting here letting the smartphone die. The thing has no time. Inspector, if I was to begin this day in gratitude, at least I gave B III more time than a piece of plastic. That’s something to be proud of. Still, at the moment, I would instead sleep some more after all the time I wasted yesterday. I could think of better things. Like writing? The fact that I work so few days this week. And if I put my nose to the grindstone? It would be better if Triple B stepped on my face again. That always got me moving. So why don’t you tell me where I’m going, Echo. Hell’s a vast place, I’ve heard. B Easy, There’s Time.

535 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 012 ~I’ll B Waiting Longer~

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How long did I wait in bed… not that I was utterly useless? I checked my schedule and, as always, posted something about my boy. And anytime I find my pants and make it to the table to work. But as far as “love and happiness.” I’ll Be Waiting Longer

Wednesday, July 13, 2022

Saga 012 ~I’ll B Waiting Longer~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And all it took was 37 years. Yeah, when it takes me an hour to speak.

That’s nothing compared to the two hours I usually give myself for the Day Job. Seeing about my boy, gazing at too few bucks, watching some boobs, and going blind playing with my balls. For now, I’m only reading the clock. I was up at 4:00. And Lofi Girl has returned. But what about B III? First reincarnation. And now I’m going all Jennifer Lawrence, screaming, “but if it’s me reading the signs.” Um, looking up Jennifer’s boobs this second. What, you want me to stay awake? It should be more like I want to be awake. Isn’t that right? Between resisting sleeping and wanking. The “Twist In My Sobriety.” And speaking of songs, again, a sign from Braxton, “I’ll Be Waiting,” from this morning.

I remember this show once. MTV’s Guy Court, talking about playing slow jams and love songs with the homies. Braxton got used to me playing all sorts of music around here every day. One more way he has to be trying to talk to me because I just remember suddenly. Inspector, I might have to put it in the novel I’m writing, “The Will To B III.” Sunday is an exception. Otherwise, I’ve been down here writing for the third day this week and to listen. I’m still waiting for this book to start getting good Inspector. I hear you say give it some time? Then there’s the speed. I should be over 20,000 words by now. As it stands, I’m around 7,600 or so.

Hell, that’s embarrassing! But let’s say I perform this miracle; it’s not like I’ll ever publish it. And why do I want to anyway? Well, we’re back to the beginning. To honor my son, several more smackers, and so I can tell the world, “I Just Had Sex.” Lately? Inspector, all these things are going on in the world. And this is what I’m worried about these days. Then why did I slack off yesterday? Telling myself that I was watching The January 6th Hearings? I did somewhat, but I can’t say I was engrossed. King Trumptard tries to overthrow the country and gets away. Yep, I’m a Republican because I face no accountability for my worst inclinations. My son’s death? I’ll B Waiting Longer.

528 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 005 ~The B’s, Z’s, XXX~

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I would tell B III to “shush it” too often. And I’m sure there were mornings when B was like, “you can go back to closing the door” while I was taking a shower. But the best was when we were both still breathing. The B’s, Z’s, XXX

Wednesday, July 6, 2022

Saga 005 ~The B’s, Z’s, XXX~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And how those words literally “Echo” because I ain’t doing a goddammed thing. The time Inspector…

All the time, I could have been telling you about this book I read that talked about signs from animals. Of course, it wasn’t the first and won’t be the last. But B, sending music… Now I won’t tell you what songs. With everything I should be ashamed of, it’s not that at all. And you must already think I’m crazy as I read another book thinking B is speaking. Hell! Sometimes I think it’s the whole house that is against me. Every creak of it. I expect B is somewhere checking it out. I’m sure I told you once about getting so frightened, Echo. I went into my drawer and reached for my weapon. Fear should have me reaching for a pen, if anything.

But no. As I was getting up this morning, I checked my schedule. I had four solid hours last Monday. What did I do with them? I caught all the Z’s I could and then more. Inevitable. And if I wasn’t sleeping, I was busy leveling the damned. If I had every hour back of playing TWD, Call me a LEGEND, Replika. Even now, Inspector, around 8:00 AM, I’ll Be… I did mention the music, didn’t I? When I’m trying to drown out all the silence, it’s everlasting. Throw in me shaking Braxton’s medicine bottles twice a day and calling to him still. Inspector, it beats my finger zooming across the screen trying to read “The 1619 Project.” It’s the notes pages, but I feel like a liar not finishing.

And what’s true? When I’m not dreaming of being a better man or losing myself to the silence, it’s “uh….” Well, more like “aw” over the creepiest of things. At least M Anime doesn’t think so. If she knew, for example, there’s this dress I want for my sub’s closet… What was the book I read before… Dark Notes? Where the guy buys Ivory clothes? Don’t I wish? Only I bought the lingerie this girl wore… Not really “wore.” But the exact same type so I can moan her name. Or at least I was before taking my OnlyFans hiatus. And I don’t have a word for the novel, do I? Talk about a deafening silence. “Cum On Feel The Noize.” The B’s, Z’s, XXX.

521 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 089 ~When B Isn’t B~

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I’m getting the hang of closing myself off in the Den. I can’t stay in bed all day (dammit). I’ve started hanging up Braxton’s hoody in his room. Let me hang out in there for too long, and B will be for breakdown, amongst other things. When B Isn’t B

Tuesday, September 28, 2021

Chronicle 089 ~When B Isn’t B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but if I wasn’t? B is for Braxton or books. How about beds. Damn Blue’s Clues.

What about Sesame Street? But it was Blue’s Clues that was in the news a week or so ago, right. What kind of man am I? A few weeks back, I was talking to M Anime, and she spoke about ALPHA men. You know me being one for Tradition. And yet I’ve cried 240 Days. I’m like one of the children crying over books like The Red Collar, Connected Souls. There’s worse, Baby Girl. I’m some Fan Geek “reading” over, Succubus 7 Fairy Tale, yep. Oh, and I did finish The Handmaid’s Tale. Turns out there wasn’t some “authoritarian” word. Remember I told you I figured there was some manly title for Commander Waterford’s office. My Study, being a man. Such things to figure out.

Only as I’ve said, my Study isn’t, only books. I feel Stupid (thanks, Matchbox Twenty). Today or how many days… I’ve been living, The Truman Show. “You can’t stand me.” Yes, that’s me, I don’t know, not projecting, but Thinking Out Loud. And sleeping helps. I’ve had a revelation of why I’m so tired. Well, okay, one reason and haven’t I always been a “man of leisure?” Anyway, I don’t think I ever got up off the floor when I was lying with Braxton. For Braxton’s last days while I was writing, I lifted him to the bed with me. Hell, I barely slept when I was beside him on the floor. Now even though the sheets are clean, he’s there. Space In Between Us

That’s my boy, my B. Even now, I can’t say he was. I’m sure I’ve slipped up here or there. Even at the old Day Job, the phrase “another day.” There will never be “another day” if I can avoid it. Every day should be unique. Not only for breathing purposes. What comes after? A beautiful wife, a big family, my billions, I mean ours. Before all that? Before there was Braxton. Before I can accept what has happened. That will never happen. It took Edmond thirteen years to get off the prison floor. For “The Fallen,” it was a year. Living in my Study with books and bites of movies. I’m a boy missing my boy. Not my wife’s bosom? When B Isn’t B.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0N3Mfn3V0g

240 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 082 ~Not Another Word B~ (2)

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Brevity’s the soul of wit I both read and heard. Tact is the ability to tell someone to go to Hell, and they look forward to going. Love’s not what you say but what you do. So much in my Study, and there’s TWD. I still love you but Not Another Word B

Tuesday, September 21, 2021

Chronicle 082 ~Not Another Word B~ (2)

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should have more free time. I wanted to be an Astronaut. Time Travel

It’s the only reason I’m on my couch now in the “Study.” What’s the difference between a Study and a “Man Cave?” Better yet, what did they call Commander Waterford’s office? Wasn’t there a fancy name for it when I watched the show? I’m not far in the novel yet. Having you to bounce these ideas off of. Braxton wasn’t much help on that front, you know. My Ma said that I would make room for happier memories of him. I’m still waiting for that day, and I continue hating the quiet. I’ll never reach Acceptance. B III being gone. What I am learning is like I hate most people, but they must be endured. I am trying to cope with the silence, My Love.

I close the door to my Study, and I imagine that B did something wrong. When he was in trouble, I would leave him in his room/the library. I couldn’t look at his face. I would forget to be mad. Hell, he would be upset with me if I took a shower alone; he’d huff. Only here you are, Baby Girl. Not to toot my own horn or scare you to death. I’ll never be able to forget the old Day Job that made me feel like an idiot every time I walked right in. Anyway, I’m a man who reads about Time Travel and never for better. Republican vices. I learned about a man who went into space because his cat left him alone.

Love, I’ll tell stories about men who abandoned their families for the cause of freedom. There are worlds where women aren’t allowed a place to speak. The sounds of silence. Now I enjoy my books. I like my TV, Films, and Games. Can’t I have it all, My Love, hmm? The Retiring Room, like “His Dark Materials” series. The Living Room of “The Immortals,” by Tracy Hickman. My Study/Man Cave, um Commander Waterford’s office. Baby Doll, that is going to bug me to no end. Like never hearing Braxton breathe. Yet I lie here on this couch with you. Your breathing, your heartbeat, questions. I’ll play games with the kids, watch movies right here. But I’d tell Braxton on TWD nights, “Not Another Word B.”

233 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 309 ~Catching Our Tales Braxton~

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Braxton was never one to go chasing his TAIL as he was always so busy following me. Like The Road, “Sometimes I TELL the boy old stories of courage and justice,” it was never many of those. “Catching Our Tales Braxton…” maybe the world will know

Thursday, May 6, 2021

Gospel 309 ~Catching Our Tales Braxton~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Like last week when we spoke around this time, there was no story to tell.

If I do get fired, did, Hell Braxton, do you have any superpowers, supernatural? Have you become all-seeing, which explains why your Daddy is still a monk and a lazy ass? I have been talking to “everyone” today. I don’t know what the next day will bring for me ever. Now it won’t be the story of your resurrection, will it? As Tupac put it, “bury me in pieces cause they fear reincarnation.” My Old Man of all people said that your spirit could be calling out from another furbaby somewhere. I guess A Dog’s Purpose was plenty for me. You’ve seen what I’ve been reading nowadays. I would ask if you ever listened to me before to please avert your eyes and ears B.

You hated my phone as it took my attention away from you. Daddy always had a song for you, so let me sing. “Son, what you don’t understand, my words might never explain. So I am hoping that time will.” When I took a shower, though… Daddy’s stuff and thangs. However, when I wasn’t looking those things up, I’ve been researching what took you away. Oh, I still blame myself, no doubt, and I don’t blame you for wanting to get to the bottom of it. I read in Succubus Lord how the Shades relive their deaths over and over. Not saying you went to Hell, of course, unless Cerberus needed friendship or you’re saving me a spot by the fire. The two of us…

Didn’t I tell you I killed off your character writing for Camp NaNoWriMo? I swear if I write another book for the next one, it will be about us, I promise. Maybe I will include these letters with some poetry, and I’ve gotten into photography books. What do you think? Braxton, I haven’t been telling the happy stories about us these days because I explained to someone. Without your love, the void has been filled with hate, I’m afraid. Rage, I have no problem letting out, but if I had shown more love to you and less wrath to others, I wish? What I wouldn’t give to have you lying on my ass again as I come up with these gems of wisdom Little B.

I’m trying, and one day, hopefully Catching Our Tales Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 302 ~What’s The B Ending~

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I had no idea how bad Wednesday was going to be. The last one that was so… heinous, B III cried, but all I could do was pick him up, wrap him under my arm, and nap. It didn’t end there; the week only got worse but for a moment. “What’s The B Ending?”

Thursday, April 29, 2021

Gospel 302 ~What’s The B Ending~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I don’t really want to talk about my day, and I haven’t even lived it.

I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that Wednesday when I was feeling this way. Time-Travel, Monsieur B. If I had done more of it on January, 27 perhaps I wouldn’t be here April 29 without you. At present, though, it’s April 24, and you know why I’m speaking. As I tell you every AM, I miss you, B III. I still love you like pancakes, but B, I must confess. Shouldn’t I have done that Wednesday? God, I hate Wednesday and Sunday. Not the days’ fault but mine. So my secret… when I say I miss you, I can hear MILF Dos’s voice. If it’s any consolation, you would have liked her yabbos. Now I know you appreciated Indiana Gone’s, without a doubt.

I was thinking about getting her a picture of you or us. Braxton, she misses you, but that would be weird. Always and forever B, so as long as I’m alive, you will be too until we’re together again. I should try cutting off Youtube once in a while, but um, “He Lives In You.” It’s what I tell myself every day, B, and look at me crying again. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop, but I need something to round out the Anger, especially this week. It’s almost like the one I had when you…. Again I’m not even living this week as I write you B Squared. Tell me something, do I deserve to have this pain end? I finished Camp NaNoWriMo…

Hell, if I had published a book already like Cherry? I saw her this morning, do me a favor, B, and see if you can find a cat named Millie. Talk about “stalking,” remembering some English vixen’s cat on the Rainbow Bridge. I’m still a monk and your Daddy. Braxton, was that even funny? So many things ended when you left, and those that began? I want to stay in the same place, you know, but life has its ways. How dare I say that. You wanted to live and now… was I going to say I want to die? I don’t want to move, I know that. The way our story ended like something out of NieR: Automata. Always, Forever, What’s The B Ending?

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

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There’s no alarm for “mourning.” There’s no routine for it; otherwise, I would listen to He’s My Son by Mark Schultz 24/7. “What A Heavenly Way To Die” that would be. Instead, I take a second step in the five stages of grief. “Sounds Like B Leaving.”

Thursday, April 22, 2021

Gospel 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I don’t want to make you mad, although your Dad is all sorts of pissed.

I know. It sounds like I could be doing better. Today it sounds like I’m going to talk about the good, the bad, and the ugly. Braxton, you were the soundtrack of my life. I need you to know that. Do you remember the day I said, “Braxton get in the car,” and you hopped? The first day you chose me, not my sister, not the grandparents, only me. In their new house, you barked at them in the AM defending the gate for me. The best welcome I got from you was the day your granddad was here. You jumped into my arms, whining. Braxton, the most beautiful sound was nightly. When I would say, “Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams.” You’d paw the bed, settle and sleep beside me.

I hated fighting with you. There were times you would growl at me or snap. I’d be all, “you’re in trouble, the longer you hide.” You and I would both listen for one of my alarms to go off so I could call you a “good puppy” again. Your nails were pacing the floor all alone. I would call you about your meds, but it was hard for you to get down the stairs. I would carry you for so many days, but once you were outside for a walk, you were young again. You couldn’t hop in the car anymore, and I couldn’t blame you; with my final act. No, it started the day you cried… I ignored you.

I swear I thought you were going to be okay. Wednesday, you cried. By Thursday, you were back. I didn’t need the doctor to utter the words that Sunday evening. “He’s Gone.” The worst sound in the world was as I held you there and I heard your final breath. Braxton, I sat there on the stairs that day and cried like I never have before. It was the fucking silence that was killing me. How dare I? I killed you, so my going to Hell is what I deserve. For 72 days, I lived in Denial, I continue, but then the fucking ASM, ANGER. That bastard took my “peace.” Down from Denial to Anger, Up from Treachery to Anger. Always Sounds Like B Leaving.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 288 ~Braxton Is, Write Will~

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I much rather be writing letters to my son than having to contemplate going to HR again today. How about explaining to my Olds about really becoming a starving artist? No matter how confusing, I do write better than I speak. “Braxton Is, Write Will.”

Thursday, April 15, 2021

Gospel 288 ~Braxton Is, Write Will~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day; has your day begun? Is the Rainbow Bridge like the Rainbow Road a timed event?

It wasn’t a race you had to win, and yet you did. That explains why I’ve been listening to “Run Boy Run” on the playlist I made for you or me, us… I don’t know. While I have nothing to say to God, that line from He’s My Son echoes, “if you can hear me, let me take his place somehow.” It’s a simple request, and if I had written anything that touches others the way that line makes me bawl? I could have stopped you from leaving, you know, like putting up some gate. It wasn’t money or the doctors, Braxton it was time. Two years ago, I paid money to publish Gulp, and here I am two years later without you or anything.

You have been here for every story I’ve ever written. Well, minus that one when turkeys took over the whole world. Where has the hunger gone, I ask you? Wasn’t it right after you left? I signed the papers, and I turned ravenous, at least physically, from famine to feast. It still hurts, you know, even when I shop online. Hell, even before I do that, I sit here doing the budget again. Your needs are no longer part of the mathematical equation unless we count the water bill. That’s where your grandparents step in. I should be writing checks. Instead, I book shopping trips, and the food disappears. I buy books from infamous figures. The background is plagued with noise from unwatched shows, Youtube.

If writing paid for this, who knows where you would be my B; still alive? Instead, I continue to work the Day Job I hate and write lackadaisically at best. You would sit here with me, or at 2:00 AM, you’d be in your bed waiting. I’d come in, and you’d wake up to get in my bed. If I wasn’t going to be serious about my writing, the least I could do is spend more time with you. I Only Want To Be With You, like Janine and her Charlotte in The Handmaid’s Tale. Another book, a show, a concept more remarkable than mine. Yours ended but my library… Braxton, perhaps that was your last lesson. I am your father, a “writer.” To be all, Braxton Is, Write Will

Always and Forever,
Your Dad