Tag: Reading

Chronicle 253 ~What We Be Reading~

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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 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 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

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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 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

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I always pictured the Daddy reading to his kids. Of the 38 books I’ve gotten to so far, only 11 (maybe) were appropriate. Braxton was here for four of them. All of January. Yet The Handmaid’s Tale has been on my mind. Let’s Book It, Braxton

Friday, September 17, 2021

Chronicle 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but what did you do today, Braxton? No hands for applause. Some whining, big floppy ears.

I want to talk about Braxton but, there’s something I’ve been thinking… Moira and Emily. Didn’t I say something um wanting to read The Handmaid’s Tale? How about today, ha. I’ve only seen the show, a bit into Season 3. So here’s my question. Would you want to be Moira, no fanfare but to know that you’re safe? No one that doesn’t know what you’ve endured can ever understand. But now you’re a person you can live, your life matters. Or would you instead be Emily? Your life matters, and everyone knows? You’re seen not only as a survivor but a big damn hero. The world that you escaped from, the things you had to do in such horrific circumstances. Not only that, but someone is waiting for you only.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjP9E7Mdqlo

I’ve been talking to M Anime about how hard it is for her to be a woman. I in no way, shape, or form what to imply I know her struggle. Oh, I would rant to B about being black. My point is this. While I imagined reading The Handmaid’s Tale instead of, well, my latest. When I walk into the house, I remember all the days Braxton was still here to greet me always. Lame, isn’t it? When he was young, for sure, I was an Emily, and I didn’t have to bring in a baby. Bringing in a bag of goodies was enough, and of course, yeah, I’ll hang onto this B III. When he was older, I was Moira. Helpfully loving quietly.

My Day Job stories were a lot more appropriate. Despite multiple uses of the word “motherfucker.” In my younger days, my Olds wanted to know about my day, but not really. Now B III, my son, wanted to know everything. Yeah, I’d imagine that’s why he fought against so much. I told you before, people would say it was like B had to protect me. Sophia, when I would pick up a book, that’s when Braxton knew I was at peace. Hell, to think today, I wanted to tell you about the last book Braxton and I read together. Succubus Lord 7. Gospel 212 and Braxton’s last Friday. He didn’t see the end of Succubus Lord 8. Not appropriate anyway. Still, Let’s Book It, Braxton.

229 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 331 ~B In Present Tense~

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Boys and their toys; B was never a toy and usually not a dog. He is my son, and the things he liked most he could eat. He had lots of toys, though, and I told myself after Christmas, I’ll make it up to you when you’re 16 but then… B In Present Tense.

Friday, May 28, 2021

Gospel 331 ~B In Present Tense~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would buy Braxton a ton of toys. A swimming pool full of fries

Before that, there was Blue. Well, we never gave the big blue dog a name, but he was Braxton’s fifth friend. I suppose, like any father, I wanted to teach my son to fight. Who am I kidding, right? I saw a big dog a few days ago and spent another minute in the car. B III made me brave, but I’m also a black man living in America. After a while, it wasn’t safe to walk with Lucille, a plastic bat, or even a slightly skinny stick to protect us. I don’t mean to sound “political.” Long story short, I saved us from pets but B. That boy was my salvation from people. So we sat there wrestling; he’s undefeated against the Blue dog.

Braxton grew up as growing boys do. I never had the heart to get him neutered. Another part of my Bargaining (Five Stages of Grief). If I had done so, perhaps he would still be alive today. Hell, sometimes I was, as the song goes, “a motherfuckin’ P-I-M-P,” for B. Plenty of people wanted him to breed. A Pure Blood Deer Head Chihuahua, in case you’re wondering why I’m such a dog snob now. If I had to do it all over again, I would have liked to meet B’s kids like I wanted him to love mine. He only had a stick of TNT. “I’m not crazy or anything,” it was a plush toy he had for his Stuff and Thangs. Indiana Gone saw

She also saw B III in love with his favorite toy, a red monster hairdryer plushy she gave him. It was his favorite toy in the whole wide world. He could smell her on it, and every so often, I get a whiff of him. Of all the toys in the world, it was the one I placed beside him. Now I’m going to cry again, remembering him lying in his bed, my arms around him. There was my black hoodie lying in his bed and that toy. If he had a choice, the choice I took from him, B would have given the toy to me for my comfort. He knew before I did.

No toy for Christmas or Birthday… B In Present Tense

117 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 324 ~Go To Bed B~

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Right now, I want to go back to sleep and see if I can find Braxton. Hell, John Wick got another dog, and I dreamt I was Mr. Wick last night. It’s better than the dreams of my actual crime, and B III can’t wake me up anymore. “Go To Bed B.”

Friday, May 21, 2021

Gospel 324 ~Go To Bed B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can sleep without the money. Dare I say without the girl? But there’s Braxton.

Besides my tattoo, I’ve been thinking about getting one of those “Cuddle Clones.” Still, I haven’t been able to decide between B III sleeping or being awake. Braxton slept well. Okay, so that’s something you tell a baby, “oh, you’re such a good sleeper.” I’ve told the story of Braxton being my “pancake” and curling up in my lap as I sat working on stories. The Wednesday before he died, he didn’t take his post at the corner of my bed after I got back. He didn’t crawl on my legs, looking towards the door. B cried and my response. Father of the year says, “Go To Bed B,” like he hadn’t been sleeping all day. Still, he crawled under my arm, staying beside me.

There will always be the story of when I thought I left him outside all night. Of course, I didn’t. Only I was out running around in the morning while Braxton slept in his house. Any day when I was leaving, he would formulate a plot to get me to stay. He knew I wouldn’t leave him inside the bedroom. Denial, it seems, moving his bed and the dog gate. With the Day Job, Braxton gave up. It was too early even for him, or he knew I had made my choice like “Six: The Mark Unleashed.” The last free choice, the wrong choice Sophia. Yes, I’m still freaking out about the COVID-19 Vaccine. I’m not a man of faith; I deserve Hell… I’m there.

“I’d tell you to go to Hell, but I think you’re already there.” Jack Valentine

Because telling Braxton, he could rest either was an act of mercy or a fucking crime. I’ll tell the story of when I placed his water next to him. Braxton walked to its usual place. When he was dying, he wouldn’t sleep in the car. Braxton wouldn’t even lie down, not my son. Braxton fought for every single second of his life and what he wanted was to come home. Sometimes I’ll move his favorite toy to his spot on the bed, to the couch. I’ll keep it on my lap. Braxton was preparing me for “Times Like These.” I dreamt I was John Wick and Braxton was nowhere to be found. I slept longer, hoping when I woke… “Life finds a way;” “stuff and thangs.” Go To Bed B.

110 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

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Instead of looking for the perfect woman, the goddess, I’d like to think of a girl that would love Braxton as much as I do. I’m already crying enough for two, so let some woman kick my ass for what happened to him. “Ask Your Mother B.”

Friday, May 14, 2021

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because I’m “creative,” or I like to think. Thinking about who Braxton’s Mom is.

She would have to be an early riser. I know I haven’t been the past few days. It’s going 8:30 AM about, which is super late for me. If there’s light in the sky, we walk him and me. Hell, I couldn’t even open the back gate a few days ago. It’s not me being sad, just the rain, hmm. Braxton would want her to be a better cook, not that he ever complained about mine. I can’t help wondering did all those McDonald’s fries have something to do with his passing. They last forever, you know. With all the food both B III and I shared, I killed him. Once again, I will never let go of that point. Then again, Mom blames herself.

Not that I would want Braxton’s Mom doing that. No, I am guilty. If she wants to blame me… It would be karma catching up to me. My Ma never blamed my “Father” for anything, and see how I feel about that man? To make B think the same of me, oh, that’s a crime, yep. On the other side of the equation, she’s not one of those “wait till your father gets home” types. Shall I imagine such love like my wife being here, and B runs from her to greet me? He chose me over everyone. He loves our kids, loves his Mom, but it’s Dad. I’m back. It took his death to turn me away from boobs, but my life… his world.

Only one woman outside the family held his sway, and that’s my second best friend. I’ve said before how she had to let him walk all over her, sharing four months of food and treats. There was a cake for his birthday and presents. Braxton’s party was an incredible time. His last days though… no Braxton, I’ll carry you, I’ll get you more water, I’ll help you. If any mother could do better, I would welcome that rather than him dying in my arms ever. Ask your Mom to save you even if you hate me for the rest of your life, son. Men save gods all the time; that’s why they’re not gods. Dog spelled backward, and Mother is God. Ask Your Mother B.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

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To think that the moment of Braxton’s passing, “home” was the last place that I wanted to be. THEY say that home is where the heart is but with him being gone… It’s at least where I can say “whatever,” in peace. Will Of The B-Cells, no cure or escape

Friday, May 7, 2021

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, only I wish I could have bought Braxton that big house I promised. A yard, family…

I don’t know if you would consider Braxton lucky or like some military kid. Why does love always feel like a battlefield, as the song goes? Whether it be the two “homes” we had with my Olds and then this place, they did pay for; truth. My family’s home Sophia… Whatever do I call it now? Fuck you, ASM. My apologies Lady Sophia but whenever I say “whatever,” I’m set off by the ASM, and I won’t have him tell me how to speak again ever. Not that I’m doing much talking because I can’t even pretend that Braxton is listening anymore. Dammit, I should be ashamed of what I’ve let happen to B III’s home. I had an ant invasion; the backyard is wild. There is such filth everywhere.

Should I burst out with my best rendition of Michael Jackson’s Earth Song? Again I am sorry, Lady Sophia. I want to tell “Happy” stories of Braxton and me, but my hate has tainted everything. I would hold Braxton at night, and he was keeping my heart inside me, yeah. Now my heart died in a cage, and this broken man is all that remains. He didn’t look at this place as a Hell, a prison, or a trap. In these walls, he was safe with his Daddy despite everything. What is this? The third time I’m crying today because of those little eyes, hmm. The look that says, “Daddy can we go home?” It’s what he wanted, I keep telling myself, now smaller boxes.

There’s my urn pendant, the box that remains on my nightstand. The frame that shows our lives together. Please let Braxton be running along the Rainbow Bridge. My Braxton could be guarding the gates of Heaven or Hell. How about Braxton finding the eternal comfy spot. All it took was something inside him, killing him for five days, causing his chronic renal failure. I know it takes longer than that, but then there was the hatred that surrounded me. Love B shed and shared like so many hairs, Braxton saying, I will try to fix you. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t visit me. He can’t stand to see his Daddy like this, and I don’t blame him. This was his home, Will Of The B-Cells.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

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Please say Hello to me… that’s after having such a nice dream. I’d forget it all if B III woke me up by running over my face, asking me for treats, or better if I had known something was wrong with him and been his Dad. Hello, Hello, Monsieur B.

Friday, April 30, 2021

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would wave goodbye to all of it just to say, Just Me, Baby B.

Sometimes I’ll say Good Morning Braxton when I walk into his room. The two of us weren’t AM people at all, Ha. There was a time when he would run over my head, eager to go out. Back with my Olds, it would be him barking. Then there’s “Medicine Time.” I’ve been thinking a lot about what THEY call The Golden Rule. I treat others how I would like to be treated. All I want in my life nowadays is peace and quiet. One more reason B III was perfect, we didn’t have to talk… we walked, and that’s how we knew we were ok. People think they are entitled to my voice… fuck people, especially the ASM. Braxton deserved the best version of me.

Now I shouldn’t say all people. Indiana Gone is my second best friend. I worry about M Anime. I still think about Cherry, Okay, even MILF Dos from time to time. But at the end of the day with Braxton, no matter what, I was always me. I got to say hello to myself finally. I could repeat the same stories about Braxton arriving in a monster’s hands. The time I caught him eating my breakfast. How about when he chose me as he jumped into the car? If I kept but one promise to my son, it was this. When I would leave, I told him I’ll be back. Do I look like The Terminator? Better you don’t answer that, my future being uncertain.

My favorite part of the day was crawling up the steps and seeing him. I would pet his head, hug him, let him jump all around, and then I’d ask, “you want to go outside?” Give me that moment forever. The Stairway to Heaven or The Rainbow Bridge, Braxton awaits. So here come the waterworks… Braxton’s last day and I dared to say Good Morning. The hello I gave him after the vet gave me the final prognosis on him, and I held him like we hadn’t seen each other in forever. I can even smell him. The brief moment after his death when the storm passed, there was such sunlight, Just Me, Baby B.

I’ve said hello in many ways. Hello, Hello, Monsieur B

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

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His bark is worse than his bite… God, how I miss that bark. Braxton may not have liked a bunch of people; I can count them up on one hand. He loved me, and the people that do are far less. B fought for me until the end. “The Battling Barker Braxton.”

Friday, April 23, 2021

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I better be as Braxton can’t protect me from what has happened, will or won’t.

Back in B.B. (Before Braxton), when I was in high school, I would “pray” to have hell, someone to pray to at all. A friend to stand with me… though even with B III, I never got around to getting him registered or whatever. Fuck You ASM, I said WHATEVER!!! Pardon me, My Lady, anyway Braxton should have been an Emotional Support Animal. As the song goes, “so take a look at me now,” I’m going crazy. Although that could be the idea of a fight. I’m saying I won’t say YES, I won’t kowtow, back down, hit the ground. If I do, that overgrown, meathead, jock asshole will have to put me there, I swear. However, my first mistake was burying my best friend.

Well, no, B III is sitting on my nightstand, but you know what I mean. Speaking of black men that are threats to my safety, sanity, and self-worth, my “father.” I fought him once and lost but Braxton. My prince knowing, my dude’s in distress, jumping between us, my boy. He got kicked four feet high by my “father” into a wooden door. Braxton and I have shed the same blood in the same mud or across a kitchen floor, at least. Time to get my cry in on this Saturday, April 17. Braxton is forever my son, my brother, and my best friend. He showed such forgiveness, but when my “father” came by without me here, he sat in his bed very scared, waiting.

What I might miss the most as I sit here in bed is where he would be when I slept. I would wake up to see him on the foot of the bed on the corner, staring at the door. As I got going, he would come over, and after making sure I was okay, he would sleep; Daddy’s shift. As I confessed at some point, I’ve never woken up to a girl in the bed. Not in this house. The way Braxton and I would sleep back to back. How he’d guard the gate when we were at my Olds barking up a storm. “Remember who the real enemy is.” Braxton wouldn’t care if I was a hero or villain. The Battling Bard Braxton.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will