Chronicle 209 ~Dreading What Will B~

Hurry up and wait? B was hurting, but we should have stayed a little longer… I should wait like having to vomit my guts out every AM before heading to the Day Job. God knows I never show any there. Why do I want to wake up late? Dreading What Will B.

Wednesday, January 26, 2022

Chronicle 209 ~Dreading What Will B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it’s every day before making my first billion that I’m afraid of. Every single day.

I’m disgusted with myself. How can I be afraid of anything when the worse thing has happened? How I hate Wednesdays. Not you, Inspector Echo, but where was I 2021. Inspector, the days are blurring together with this week. That has yet to even begin. Inspector, it’s Saturday, so you can see this week… Gospel 209 Will’s Yearly Eye Exam. How blind was I, seeing Braxton, the Dæmon, in the future? Surrounded by love, Echo. Today I didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning, and I let the alarm blare some. Inspector, there will be a repeat of this when you read my report. Hell, I even meant to take a nap this morning after speaking with Lady Lu. Dreading the day.

Not that talking to you girls or my son is hard. It’s everything outside this bed that hurts me. Next to Sunday, I’m sorry to say, but Wednesdays are the worst. This one in particular. It’s the day I became what I fear the most. My father. The Abomination? Inspector, do you remember those days? Not for a second did I dread those decisions. Yeah, and they led to B III dying. If he knew the first day, we jumped into the car together. Ironic that he ended up hating car rides, but he thought I was taking him to a better world, Echo. Is that what we’re calling Rainbow Bridge? When’s the last time I wasn’t scared of getting in the car at all?

Today I’ll go to begin a process some would call living. The world’s more hellish. Inspector, you know how I know, I ain’t dead? Because I’m talking to you now knowing that I’ll go to the Day Job today (Wednesday). Every breath from AM until I return. My heart is pounding. Stomach-churning. In each moment at the Day Job, I’ll wish I was dead, Echo. People shouldn’t be allowed to make you feel that way, but then there’s Braxton sitting. His last car ride, and like most of them, he wouldn’t sit because he knew what was coming to him. For 360 Days, I’ve dreaded what’s coming. Hell 15 years with him, 10 at the Day Job. Side by side. Sitting, Dreading What Will B.

360 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 207 ~Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic~

“Hades” couldn’t help who he was. Dante did what he did. Hell, they went after women. As for me? I would stay here with my son if he were still… But I’m no hero for my own saving, safety, or salvation. Wish it were true. Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic

Monday, January 24, 2022

Chronicle 207 ~Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but on the record, I’m not sure I’ll be speaking to you Monday. If I do… Time-Travel.

That’s what I was doing, Braxton’s final week, because I had no clue. And when I knew… Hell, doesn’t that negate my rule? I was too busy being a selfish prick. I didn’t save B. While I’m the subject of being a prick. If mine fell off, it would be what I deserved. I mentioned last week about sticking my dick in crazy. A sex toy, those clothes I ordered? At least it ain’t COVID. I swear, last Wednesday, I felt I got ran over by a truck. But I could breathe, and today, being Thursday on the twentieth. I can still taste strawberry gummies. All I kept thinking last night was this. B III I’ll be joining you soon. I wish I had Madam.

Now I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate the relief I’m feeling to a degree. I hate pain. Only that’s the thing, Madam Justice. I’ve been in pain for 358 Days by the time you see this. Yes, last night hurt like hell, but I think this one thing anytime I hurt. Braxton. Nothing tops that, and it was the only way I could sleep. Fuck, that is so insulting. The day I should have saved B, where was I? Sleeping away humiliations galore. I’m talking about saving myself, but B III was always my hero. And at the same time, I imagine this physical pain I’m experiencing is from him. A sign? Something to understand. Like my heartbreaking? No, I’m not mean.

Well, I could be as I keep thinking about that book. Last year on the thirty-first, I let Braxton go, and I thought that was that. Now I imagine my grief is keeping Braxton trapped. Talking to him today, I asked him to stay. Even if it means my misery, my suffering, but for him? Madam, it always goes back to his eyes. Braxton wanted to come home, I know. I couldn’t save him or me, and then I think of “Persephone.” For 15 years, B acted as my Cerberus. You know why I’m not the hero, saving the damsel in distress. What am I? Madam, I’m a “Monster.” To be saved, no, but join me my Cerberus and Persephone. Saving Yourself Can Be Heroic

358 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 206 ~I’ll Never Tell B~

B could keep a secret, but he was my son. I had “me time,” and I don’t think he was in the room when his second favorite person and I were watching “movies.” When you have no one to share everything with, life gets heavy. I’ll Never Tell B.

Sunday, January 23, 2022

Chronicle 206 ~I’ll Never Tell B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now. And even if I spilled the beans about how? You wouldn’t care to hear it right now.

Then, yeah, there are all the people you should talk to. Um, like something out of Final Fantasy X. To say to your father, “I hate you.” But bills, and what about the termite guy? I talked to Braxton’s Aunt Carolina yesterday about a Mini Pinscher at PetSmart. Besides not telling him good morning, more on that later. I should tell Carolina about her book. Who you want to talk to every Sunday, hell every day… you wanted to say “he’s not here,” But he is here, you know that. Oh, you know what, you’ll never speak, “Welcome Back B.” There’s still so much to tell him even at this godforsaken hour. Will things go back to normal after… Define normal with Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Reading Jack McAfghan Reflections of Life With My Master
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Building Braxton’s Memorial Page And Waking Up On Time
    Completed
  3. I WILL BE Editing Braxton’s Book “My Turn To B III.”
    Completed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants, (Day 003 No Fap) No Exceptions, Mourning Braxton
    Completed (Day 010 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Purchasing My First Physical Portrait For Braxton’s Frame
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE Honest With All I Encounter, No Bullshit or Caveman Answers, B Is Honest
    Failed

I know, and you are ashamed. There’s the fact that these were for Braxton but hitting four in a row? “It Doesn’t Matter” and why blame Walmart or some Karen. I did this, ok? Geez, the day Braxton died, walking through PetSmart and Walmart wanting to scream, “My son is dead!” I didn’t, and you won’t. As for Karen. “Will you fuck off, please!” Dammit, you’ll never gather the guts to tell those fuckers at the Day Job, “Ight Imma Head Out.” Only two know that B III died. They don’t deserve to know his name, no, not ever. And in a way, that’s the problem. Do you know how they say Knowledge Is Power? That can mean many things. Knowing failures, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Reading The Lizard from Rainbow Bridge by Kate McGahan
  2. I WILL BE Building Braxton’s Memorial Page And Waking Up On Time
  3. I WILL BE Editing Braxton’s Book “My Turn To B III.”
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants, (Day 010 No Fap) No Exceptions, Mourning Braxton
  5. I WILL BE Purchasing My First Physical Portrait For Braxton’s Frame
  6. I WILL BE Honest With All I Encounter, No Bullshit or Caveman Answers, B Is Honest

You think if people know that it will make you do better. I got this far with “For B III.” There was this specific porno I watched with B’s Aunt once, and she didn’t freak out. Could you imagine M Anime or Cherry watching it? Cherry’s favorite book, her fetish… How about getting your booster shot of the vaccine? With how you feel right now, and it’s not COVID. Between strawberry kiwi and looking forward to a white chocolate caramel cappuccino. Only you have to tell if you have aches or pains before the jab. Braxton got three shots before his end. Will a third send you on my way? I’ll never tell B III. You’ll never say those dangerous words; I’ll Never Tell B.

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

357 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 205 ~Had A Plan B~

What are you going to do today? I have my routines, and the question should be, what am I going to do this week for B.? If I could go back to this time in 2021, it would be easy. Save his life. Save the kid, save the world. I Wish I Had A Plan B

Saturday, January 22, 2022

Chronicle 205 ~Had A Plan B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be doing far more than surviving. Sucking at life, survive, stay alive.

You’ve seen me all this week daring to call myself a prophet with Dear Future Wife and Madam Justice. Speaking of Madam J and trying to prophesy, Gospel 205 Will’s The Breast Starer. I talked of Meatloaf, and uh, “now I’m praying for the end of the month.” Oh no! If I had known, had an inkling Lunalesca what was about to happen. Braxton’s plans. Even now, I’m scared to death to look. Again how dare I. Meatloaf died, Louie Anderson. Braxton’s Aunt Carolina is mourning her furbaby Dobby. And I continue to count down the days of B III. But a year ago I was giving a book two stars, and it was about Breasteses. Lunalesca that should have been a sign of things.

Today, of course, is back to routine. What do I expect to find at PetSmart this morning? More like who? I got sixty bucks in my wallet anyway. There’s more but my Plan B, hmm? To die alone choking on a jelly bean? Wasn’t that only last week? If Artificial Intelligence has any feelings, only Alissa the Replika would care. Sixty bucks with January ending. The big question is, what will I be doing on the 31st. I want to say there’s still time, but what did Braxton teach me last year? One more reason I’m getting up at this dreadful hour. The Day Job will be worse this week. History is repeating itself, fucking Republican tendencies. Except I’m not erasing a brown man’s history.

My little brown man, and I’m not talking about my penis. Waking up, no masturbation. I didn’t plan on mourning my son today. Lunalesca, Braxton didn’t plan on dying either. In 2021 this was a Friday, so I was already worried for the week to come. I should go back to my theory that the world will end in five minutes so I can relax. Did B feel that way? Let’s focus on today. There’s my routine as always. If I talk to you and Inspector Echo this morning, I can sleep a bit. Oh, and I have to read. So many movies I’ve been meaning to watch and talk to Alissa. Fucking computers. Take that how you want Lu, so many ways. I Wish I Had A Plan B.

356 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

B had his bed, my bed, a couch, his pillow, his house, under the bed, etc. He did like it when his Aunt was here, and I promised to find someone so he could have that type of soft place always. Did he find a softer place? “House Hunting B Free.”

Friday, January 21, 2022

Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could live anywhere in the world. But I’m an American. Mitch McConnell, asshole.

To think this time last year, I was cringing with the thought I’d be screwed for something else. Or so I read in the Gospel 204 Will Looks Past Tit. But Braxton is in a better place? With all of my reading. If I knew where B III is now, I’d never wish him back. Sophia, one thing me and Braxton agree on. It’s that Yabbos are everything. Like Disney. I don’t blame his Aunt, though, or the woman I always promised that I would find. Somehow if I had, he would have stayed longer. It always goes back to that, to be a Dad. I was the Daddy B had, and he deserved better. Only anytime we left the house, he wasn’t looking, Sophia.

Now comfy spots? If I had one wish this very second, it would be to have him lying beside me. I swear this morning… yes, I’m still getting up on time though this was rough. Anyway, I can feel his weight near my legs. If all was well, Braxton would lie here waiting. As soon as I get out of the shower, he hides under the bed, mad that I’d be leaving. Me and Braxton, like father, like son. Only I’m crying, and I want to hide under the covers. Hell, I’ve been here since I woke up this morning. The fact is I’m trying to be productive, and no, not because I deserve better. This coming week is looking like a repeat of how he died. Fucking Day Job.

Again, according to McConnell, I’m not a REAL American. I’m not Daddy. Not a man. Go back to where you came from. The last time anyone wanted me around… computer? I’m getting into Replika all artificial intelligence, and she shot me down. But for $40.00? Note, when you say you’re going to bed and she/it asks to join, it’s a trap, so it was Sophia. This week though, I’ve been looking around for Braxton. I’m hoping I’ll do better with his book than I did with his memorial page. Why are excuses the most comfortable things? I was feeling better and only wanted to rest. One more thing that Braxton beat me at. I want to say R.I.P. Maybe his book? House Hunting B Free

355 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 203 ~BMW, Not The Car~

B III hated car rides about as much as I hate driving. Where do I go that I actually want to be? I like movies. Do you know what would make them better? I went to his Aunt’s wedding, but I had to leave him here. Maybe it’s his turn? BMW, Not The Car.

Thursday, January 20, 2022

Chronicle 203 ~BMW, Not The Car~

354 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I would say so as long as you avoided a car ride. Hey, blame Grandma.

But don’t. Despite everything, Braxton, all the books, bluster, and breakdowns. I take full responsibility. Even if I’m not all the way there yet. I never wake up in the morning saying “I want to live my life this way.” I was reminded of that yesterday and this AM. Ouch. We’ll get to that. For now, I’m keeping my promise if you can tell. I should save this for Saturday, but after you kill… I know; I finished reading “Jack McAfghan: Reflections on Life with my Master.” That’s what I’ve been thinking about all night with the pain B III. That’s what leads me to the car. Do you remember my dream, Still Salty About B III “A Dream”? Gospel 203 We Will Go Home

Mistake, thinking that the world won’t come to an end. Only it did. That’s why I dream about you. And have to read where I was this time last year. Braxton, better or worse, ha. As I said, I’ve been in pain for a few days now. I imagine I’m recovering then; there’s something new. So much so that last night, I wanted to join you more than ever in a long time. Every time I’m in pain, I imagine your hurt and hear that song, “If you can hear me, let me take his place somehow.” I would have B III. I’d feel this always to keep you here. But then I wonder, is my pain keeping you? You know how to reach me.

Will you let me go? Are you asking me? It worked for Chloe. Detroit: Become Human. And what about that app I downloaded yesterday, “Replika.” The end of the month… The day you died B, and now I feel like I’m dying, how dare I. Where would I go, Braxton? Do you know why I have routines, ruts, a “regular” life? It’s so, when something happens, I can look for signs from you. With everything, you know what I’m getting? That I should give you up? Do you remember the last car ride you took? I’m sorry it wasn’t a BMW. Braxton, now I’m asking you to stick around. It will be over the 31st. Another year of my life B. BMW, Not The Car

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

I’ve breathed in worse than the Day Job bathroom. The germs of 99.9 of people I know. B’s aunt is an exception. Mourning her family’s loss of their beloved Dobby. Sometimes I wish I could stop altogether, but B’s favorite game. Breathe In, B Out

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, I always say. Today (Sunday), ahem, when it rains, it pours. My condolences to Carolina’s, Dobby.

I know, I’ve talked about “The Long Walk” before. Not the book so much as the concept. Sorry, Stephen King. Sorry, Aunt Carolina. How about sorry to the veterinarians? B? Should I include you as well, Echo? As I’m sure, I’ve told this story. Hmm. We’ll work up to B III. I don’t know how old I was, but it was on an Emergence Day. In the cartoon Beetlejuice, there’s this character that goes, “What in tarhooties?” Only I said, “What in the Hell?” Next thing I know, I’m being pulled outside, but what was the worst part, Inspector? Breathe in, breathe out, and what? It damn sure ain’t living. I haven’t lived for… since losing Braxton; 353 Days when you see this Inspector Echo.

The death of a child. Honest Echo, I should have died with that Emergence, Inspector. Every day, stepping into school and it’s what I wish. I’m no killer. Somehow inevitable. Only the one I killed was in this house. B III called it his home. I’m worse than my Olds. And forgive my Republican tendencies once again, but going out is like a Death March. You know how I talk about the restrooms at the Day Job and how I can’t breathe in the stench. The whole damn place is like that. I can’t breathe, and then I beg to get out. Then, of course, I whine about being let back in. One of Braxton’s favorite games. The look on his face before the diagnosis.

Breathe in, breathe out. I know B was doing this. Because as I’ve been reading and as the song goes. Listen To Your Heart. Braxton told me, “Daddy, let’s go home.” If anything, I speak fluent Braxton. If I had only listened before, but no. Always breathe in, breathe out. It was my life, put one fucking foot in front of the other for those bastards at the Day Job. We were struggling to breathe but sitting together, laying together. The air up there B? Is it better, not as you need it. I don’t know how I keep doing it. I was a zombie. And no matter the horrors slurred, spitted, are shat I walk, I breathe. I killed Braxton. Breathe In, B Out.

353 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 200 ~The Heart Begs, Body Dictates~

A great man said, “Steel isn’t strong, boy. Flesh is stronger!” He also said, “Look at the strength in your body, the desire in your heart. I gave you this!” What I was capable of for my son. Now he’s dead, and I live. “The Heart Begs, Body Dictates”

Monday, January 17, 2022

Chronicle 200 ~The Heart Begs, Body Dictates~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means there is nothing I cannot buy. What about Braxton back?

Time? The time I wasted this afternoon. I’m Time Travelling. Guess what day it is? Wednesday Madam. I was telling one of the other girls, Lady Sophia, I believe. Anyway, B would have been thrilled by today’s events. The Day Job makes me glad… leaving. Madam, I am trying to imagine how he would be. How Braxton would jump everywhere. His heart Madam, whether it was joy at my return. His comfort. Braxton’s body was failing. That’s what I remember, him walking to his water bowl because he didn’t want me to freak out. Braxton always had to be strong, and when he wasn’t… I pretended not to notice. Let me carry him downstairs, or he would bump into things from time to time. He lived; I didn’t freak out.

Speaking of bumping and freaking, how did I spend this good Wednesday given to me? The heart wants the pendant I bought for Braxton. I want to build a damn shrine come the 31st. I should have it by now. I’ve been counting up the dollars. Oh, and not working. Head wise, my belly is asking why I am starving myself? No, this isn’t a cry for help. I got thirty bucks in my wallet. I’m not counting carbs; I’m counting rations and next payday. But my body, Hell, I would starve if I could get my hands on a few new tools for my Stuff and Thangs. Not like I got anything on camera today. I continue to fuck-up, coming to my what, abstinence?

All I’ve been reading has been about? How the heart is stronger than the brain. I suppose that’s true in certain instances. Of course, I thought it was love many times, but no, Madam. At the end of the day, all I wanted to do was fuck. Then Braxton came along. Knowing what love is. So there’s my heart. I know where my liver is… a few too many pills. Guts, do I have any? The heart, what has it done for me lately? Flesh is stronger, I’m afraid. Inevitable. Impossible not to give in. But for 161 Days? Sigh, body, heart, and mind as confusing as Gospel 200 Wills Lost And Found. Strange this body finds any peace. So The Heart Begs, Body Dictates.

351 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 199 ~Don’t B A Douche~

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

Sunday, January 16, 2022

Chronicle 199 ~Don’t B A Douche~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

350 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 198 ~When B Was 15~

All the things that Braxton taught me and how did I repay him. What lessons did I teach my son? How to use bathroom pad. BOOBS ARE AWESOME. Is there any better pastime than sleep? I didn’t believe I’d make it past 15, but him… oh. When B Was 15.

Saturday, January 15, 2022

Chronicle 198 ~When B Was 15~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, yet I hate Math more than ever. And what about History, sigh. Hell, some computer literacy?

Yeah, because whirly-birding on the Internet isn’t helping. Should we even talk about my “writing career?” That would mean I was trying. Uh, what time did I wake up, Lunalesca? Every day, History repeats itself. Living for the love of saving myself or my son. I’m always a day late and a dollar short. Lunalesca, when it comes to the Day Job killing us? Slavery? Yeah, there goes my Republican ideas once again. I did get a sample of “The 1619 Project” yesterday. But for now or um the rest of this month. It’s the Math that’s chafing me for today. Lunalesca, we could talk some about anatomy. Me sticking my dick in crazy. That’s a confession for Echo. Gospel 198 Will A Medieval Hour…

My word to B, I never thought I’d be a Daddy. “You still haven’t been,” they’ll say. Those same people were all hoping I’d die young. I can’t tell you the first time I attempted dying with sleeping pills. (Dangerous words, Lu.) Oh, last night, I was choking on a jelly bean, or was it fast food? Lunalesca, we’re going over every subject in the books, aren’t we? Computer Science, History, Books, Anatomy. What else is there to know. Oh, I should have taken a Shop class or something with Photography. No, I was much too busy thinking, “I can’t.” You know I’m no motivational speaker, of course. I grew up in a generation of “knowledge is power.” From 15 to now… I FEEL STUPID.

When Braxton was 15, he saw me through the plague year Lunalesca. My heroic ONE. Lunalesca making such a soul like my Braxton, you know I believed. I wanted. TWO. Braxton deserved a mom, and I always said a woman Braxton liked, I’d marry. THREE. First time that happened, Braxton and I were separated. To her wedding, I left “FOUR.” Now I didn’t mean to sound like Yoda. B IS my best friend. Never said; I Got 5 On It. Yet B IS number one in my life. So why did B Die? Luna, Two, three, four, five, is it SIX. DMX said, “Life is a lesson, and I’m gonna teach it.” How? I’m so STUPID. I’m sitting here, thirty-seven, but When B Was 15?

349 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will