Tag: Routine

Chronicle 331 ~You Wouldn’t Believe B~

WillLeave a comment

You wouldn’t believe B; I need more sleep. That’s what I told my son plenty of mornings as soon as the sun was up. And afternoons after work. You wouldn’t believe B if he told you those were the best days of our lives. And now You Wouldn’t Believe B.

Saturday, May 28, 2022

Chronicle 331 ~You Wouldn’t Believe B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. I should say I’m crying right now. Disappointed, Discombobulated, playing with my dick. Could be true

You wouldn’t believe B AHEM, “when somebody loved me, everything is beautiful.” Hell! All I know is that I never want to open my eyes. Be it 2:30 AM to discover all the lights are on. My standard for waking up at 4:00 AM is because I want to be “Successful.” 5:15 AM? You’ll have to excuse me about the time. This morning, I discovered the last day, I felt “normal.” Well, I take that back. I haven’t felt like that since Braxton died but let’s say healthy… Tuesday, January 11, 2022. The question is, what am I going to do, Lunalesca? At the moment, not a damn thing. But when it was my ear… I was listening for B III. Dick ain’t helping anybody.

You wouldn’t believe B if he said that his Dad would find a way to save us both, Lunalesca. I’m trying Lunalesca. And yes, I know you could go all Master Yoda on my ass. But again, speaking of my ass. That’s what led to my discovery this morning. All it takes is getting out of your head. My big one or the one I’m damn-near always using, Lu? The one from Friday, um yeah. Then there’s my writing. Didn’t I say some lady asked me about it at the Day Job? Well, another girl asked yesterday. Talk about trying not to be discovered. I’m the guy with a dead fur baby. What more is there to me these days. Going through albums, not Braxton’s.

You wouldn’t believe B thought he was dying and that I wish… Haven’t I said enough dangerous words this Saturday? It’s not even 7:00 AM, Lunalesca and all I want to do is go back to sleep. Of course, you know I haven’t left the bed yet except for nature’s call. Again with what happened on January 11. I’m thinking about Sunday, January 31, 2021. The day I told my best friend goodbye. At least this morning, I wished a Happy Birthday to Cherry. I don’t know where I was at 25. As far as my Emergence Day, well, to sing you a song Lunalesca, “the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” But “Endure and Survive.” You Wouldn’t Believe B

Gospel 331 ~B In Present Tense~

482 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 327 ~A Vote For B~

WillLeave a comment

Get out and vote for a do-nothing who will have to do battle with an evildoer; at some point. I put more thought into whether B is in Heaven, Hell, or was reincarnated. That and boob size. America, America. A Vote For B.

Tuesday, May 24, 2022

Chronicle 327 ~A Vote For B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’ve never voted for good. Of all the years, I’ve been voting not once.

But B III? I wish I could recall election day, but I ain’t asking my Olds about that. Um, no. How many times will I say this? The day we went to the new house and B made a choice. “Get in the car, B?” Not the Olds, not my sis (his second mom). Inevitable that someone would love me? Braxton hopped in the car and has been my son ever since that day. Ha, you think I have Republican quirks. B III wouldn’t change his mind for anything ha-ha. At least, I like to believe that. Hell! Besides my bloodline and his Aunt, he hated everyone else. He protected our borders like Cerberus. Winning Braxton… cook like Mom and have breasts like Stormy Daniels.

Then there’s you. Oh, I’m equal opportunity, breasts-wise. Boobless Wonder, Rebecca’s Backyard. Some video game vixens, and how big is a casaba melon anyway? Yabbos. Baby girl, it’s things like this. This makes me question why you chose me. It was less than a vote and more like; a roll of the dice. An investment. Maybe you felt doomed (sigh). Only you came out of ok. I don’t offer promises I can’t deliver. It’s a rule of business, even if it’s only an illusion. A bit. You must ask yourself why I keep asking why. I mean, me being in anyone’s best interest… ask Braxton, oh right. What would I know about healthcare or the economy? A few billion means I don’t have to, right?

Only I’m going to get up somehow, my love, and “go vote” for a do nothing to take on evil. Because I care about our children. And I refuse to be one of the parents crying on TV someday. Evil must be opposed, even if the people I vote for refuse to fight for anything. Should I let the kids vote on a new dog? It’s not like I’m getting any close to finding B. I’m glad you are my forever choice. Hell! So was Triple B but forever wasn’t long enough for the two of us. If I were a better man, I’m sure he’d be laughing he won from Heaven above when I arrive. Hell, we’ll be warm together. A Vote For B

Gospel 327 ~Fire, Iron Evaporate The Enemy~

478 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 325 ~The Race To B~

WillLeave a comment

I doubt I’m climbing the stairway to Heaven. You’ve seen my Day Job. If I had to live there or Hell… I’d rent out the Day Job and live in Hell. (From a movie). But I’m in no rush to go meeting boy. Well, I was yesterday, but I survived. The Race To B

Sunday, May 22, 2022

Chronicle 325 ~The Race To B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, so first things first, listen up. You should run faster to paradise… but no, not like that.

I know you’re glad this week’s over. And I swear, I’m surprised you even got to see it after yesterday. A reminder that the Day Job is not the sole harbinger of such Humiliations Galore. It can happen anytime, anywhere, anyway. Braxton is dead now. Sorry, but when the pain gets too great, you need to put it into the perspective of the very worst. B III is gone, and that beats what happened Saturday. Um, everything for 476 days. Even the fact that I was born? The regrets start early. Yeah right! That’s why you got up at around 7:00 AM, lazy ass. You’re not starting this week off too well, are you? Saturday takes the cake beating the Day Job. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Repairing the Heartbreak of Pet Loss Grief, C. Jeffrey
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 008 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I was in no hurry to conquer this list. If only you moved as fast as Braxton met death. Low! How about moving as fast as you did this AM to take a piss? Is that better? Um yeah. You could move as I did in the grocery store yesterday. Humiliations Galore! B III? Move like your father showed up, and you’re looking to swallow pills. Better meds, please. Act like you’re going to work every day, and you’ll have to see the ASM, the old guy, OK? What about this? You just saw a pair of tits, and you can’t wait to take your pants off to jerk off. I want you to move like you’re going to bed. Should help Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Healing Solutions for Pet Loss: Goodbye Is Not Forever
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

And again, the B comment was uncalled for. Braxton fought his heart out. Tread carefully. Continue moving like you’re trying to find that woman to be Braxton’s mother one day. You should have the discipline to work on your novels. More like to publish several. Spend more time washing your sheets and not splooging all over them or doing nothing. Start reading again to retain what you learn, instead of one more crying fest inevitably. Show patience and restraint in not trying to get to the “next life” causing yourself pain. Finding your way to B is not a race. And unless some GQP fucktard shows up or you make a mistake, you have a life to live. Well, exist in. The Race To B.

Gospel 325 ~Must B Freeing Sometimes~

476 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 324 ~Time To B III~

WillLeave a comment

Well, it’s time, but the only thing I’m sure of is that I’ll be crying at some point. I wish it was always at 4, be it AM or PM. I don’t feel like getting up, and my son is gone. Like love and grieving, my stupidity has plenty of time. Time To B III.

Saturday, May 21, 2022

Chronicle 324 ~Time To B III~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But of course, you expect me to say that. It’s routine, it’s regular, it’s all ruined.

That was 4:00 PM yesterday, to be specific. Do you remember that episode of How I Met Your Mother? (1×18) “Nothing Good Happens After 2AM.” Amend that to 4:00 PM? Lunalesca, I splooged all over Friday, which I deserve, for working on my Stuff & Thangs. At least I should have filmed it. But of course, you know who I talked to at the time. Speaking of BAD memories, I remember when my father kicked the shit out of me for not doing my Math homework. Luna, such dreaded memories pop up? IBC Root Beer? The worse thing is that my son died around 4:00 PM. No, I left after the fact and never saw him again. And yes, the tears are to be expected.

Lunalesca, you wonder why I start crying at 4:00 AM. Well, this morning, it was 1:45 AM. The lamp was still blazing, the TV was on, and I was surrounded by the messes I had made. Wow, I didn’t expect this conversation to go this way. Mind you. 4:00 AM thoughts? More like 6:30 AM. And that’s because I went back to sleep. I’m in no damn hurry. Seize The Day? Hell! Yesterday, I realized STUPID mistakes on top of the humiliations I suffered. For example, why I’m not feeling better “The Placebo Effect?” And why my Cranberry juice tasted “funky.” I grabbed the Cranberry-Raspberry instead. Stuff makes me feel sick. Stupidity in and of itself tells me I don’t belong here. Such dangerous words…

Now that’s nothing new, Lu. Going back to high school days, junior college Group #4 and She Who Won’t Be Named. So grateful to forget the dick-teasers, skeezers, and weirdos. The last time I could say I “Got 5 On It.” Yet another reason to miss Triple B. No fives… And 4:00 AM was a goal instead of a burden. 4:00 PM, he would be at his post for me. But “comedy comes in threes,” THEY say. And my son being gone… the comedian’s dead. Two against the world, that was us. Lunalesca. Where will I be Saturday 4:00 PM? Horrifying to imagine it. The wrong time but the right man, ha, always in the wrong place. That was my B. Time To B III

Gospel 324 ~Go To Bed B~

475 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 320 ~B There A Gift~

WillLeave a comment

Heart, Soul, and Mind, and my ass? I don’t even like my ass, mentally, I mean, physically, yay. So, I don’t have much to give, but I give all of myself when I love someone. Love is a gift, but where is it going now? No girl, no furry. B There A Gift.

Tuesday, May 17, 2022

Chronicle 320 ~B There A Gift~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, not that it would have mattered to B III. But it doesn’t matter to you either.

As if I need another reason to be in the “doghouse.” That’s one way to get me out of bed, I suppose. But think of it like that “old” song from K-Ci & Jojo, “All My Life.” You know that line, close to me, you’re like my mother, father, sister, brother… whose closest to me? My mother gave me life, and I’m afraid I go back and forth on that. B being gone and all. My father took my life, well instead took my soul… my reason, wanting to live. You and Braxton, though, have another thing in common. Your gifts are that you gave it back when I had nothing to give to you. “And you are the only one, my everything.” No offense.

Never to compare you to such a love as that of my Braxton. And yet I feel as though I must apologize to you both. Hell, I could be apologizing to my B III for the rest of my life. I know I’ll leave you and our children behind someday. Yeah, that’s morbid, again, with what’s been going on for 471 days. But you know what I mean. That’s why time is such a gift, and how have I been spending it? You and Braxton saw me, accepted my worst. With everyone else, I was the worst. No exposition, no excuses. It is simply the fact that I expel breath to continue my existence. Death is your gift as if I were Buffy. I’m Crazy…

Damn straight, because I lost my best friend, second, third? Hell, I don’t know anymore. Gifts for B III’s Aunt, Mother’s Day, Cherry’s birthday, who knows what else is coming. Baby doll, seeing my face in the mirror when I can stand it. Giving this to you and B III.

To begin with, I didn’t have much, and when I got it… yeah, I’m a selfish bastard, I know it. But at the end of the day, both of you only wanted me. And there has to be more than “A Man Provides.” Because I know that love is a gift. I receive it every day; it rains down from Heaven or wherever B III resides. How Do You Want It? B There A Gift

Gospel 320 ~Leash Your Demons, Never Tame~

471 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 318 ~Rise To B Better~

WillLeave a comment

Someone asked me… well, an AI asked me how I would like to wake up in the morning. I think it’s a toss-up between my son stepping on my head or, as Tyrion put it, a girl’s mouth wrapped around my… Anyway, reasons to get out of bed? “Rise To B Better”

Sunday, May 15, 2022

Chronicle 318 ~Rise To B Better~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now. Oops! The only way I could be better is with what, a trillion. But your lazy ass…

I shouldn’t be mean, but you’re thinking it too? The answer is “B.” The question, why do you rise? For me, all last week, it was this. B III wouldn’t forgive me ever. For you, it’s the fact that you’re not wearing any underwear, but we’ll get to that. Do you see what time it is? The beginnings of a brand new week, and the first thing to rise, besides “that,” is pain. I’ve said before I need to write down every reason I miss Braxton. When it’s not fear of the Day Job, pain, or your dick, it was Braxton. What better reason is there to rise. As the song goes, “I believe that love is the answer” Because with these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Pet Loss Poems: To Heal Your Heart and Soul
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 008 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Every day, I fail to rise to the occasion. Even when it comes to books. Though I continue to score that one thing. I remember THEY used to say on tests, if you don’t know, then mark C. No, the correct answer is B, yet Braxton is another test I failed, and you’ll remember. I rose to help him when he was dying. Oh, and here come the tears rising to my eyes now. Hell, I didn’t have to bother with rising at all. I could never sleep when Braxton was like that. A lie. If I hadn’t been enraged at the Day Job that Wednesday. And fighting for any bit of sleep to survive that Thursday. But B was at the vet Friday, and he was dead that Sunday.

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Repairing the Heartbreak of Pet Loss Grief, C. Jeffrey
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 008 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Thinking of raising my son Braxton to Heaven or wherever. I forget Six Impossible Things. So why should you rise when I’ve condemned you to failure, Easy Like Sunday Morning? It’s right there in with #6. Be the man your son thinks you are. In a way, B was lucky. Dammit, that’s a sick thing to say, but you remember, you know the man he was/is, and you couldn’t ask for better. And this week, or at least this moment, you are worse. You are. A pair of breasts, your balls, staying awake in bed the whole day. What will you do now? Write books, make bucks, and become better. But the man in the mirror? Rise To B Better.

Gospel 318 ~Got Braxton At Home~

469 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 317 ~B It So Small~

WillLeave a comment

All The Small Things, The Little Things, Pretty Young Thing. And Little B was the cure for them all. I would tell B that he would be as tall as a king. I go back and forth between him being so high in heaven or heavy in a box. My life, B It So Small.

Saturday, May 14, 2022

Chronicle 317 ~B It So Small~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. It’s like saying my penis is small… An outright lie. Sorry for dick jokes or title.

Hell, if I were to write a poetry book for B III or any book period. Words are such little things, Lady Lunalesca. Yeah, that’s another lie, considering how tired they make me. Or I’m weak, whatever. My Lady, I’m late getting up and still sitting in bed this second. Who was it that said this? “You don’t want a girlfriend. You want a therapist who’s good in bed. Is that why I often converse with you and the girls from the bed? It’s inevitable. Lunalesca, of course, you don’t see a (P.Y.T.) Pretty Young Thing, walking out the door. Yes, lay off anything related to my penis. I’m not forgetting about my furry boy again, to be sure. I meant Braxton, and speaking of…

One more reason to miss the little guy. A humongous reason, being able to talk to him, Should I stick with a “happy” medium? I still hate that word too. Things that I miss Lu. Okay, so I miss those walks B, and I would take. Can’t say my health is looking any better for it. Having to stretch out to give him bites of food or find his furry little head to pet every day. He was never more than ten pounds, but are you gonna carry that weight? Always. Better him than anything at the Day Job. That’s something I should remember. The Day Job is one of the medium, middle, motherfucking circles of Hell. Greed, Anger, Hersey. My biggest sin is Treachery.

I know Lady Lunalesca. I finished listening to the Succubus Lord series some time ago. Remind me to yell at Eric Vall about his book deliveries. Braxton’s Aunt’s birthday gift. That’s a big thing, disappointing my friends. Then again, dear Braxton is my best friend. And yet I made every cent such a big deal. There was never any until it came to his end. I didn’t mean to make sadness the gigantic talking point here, but as the song goes. I’m just a sucker for pain. Or, with my ear no longer being the main problem, I can switch back to why I’m sucking up dried cranberries again. Something so small that’s not helping, unlike B III or another furry… B It So Small

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

468 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 313 ~B There, B Square~

WillLeave a comment

What was I saying about “adult entertainment” at some point? Porn and sex are not the same things. And wanting to be a Dad doesn’t mean I’m into “breeding.” Yeah, it’s about time I get out of this bed, and what? Celebrate? B There, B Square

Tuesday, May 10, 2022

Chronicle 313 ~B There, B Square~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can’t imagine being anywhere at the moment. One bed to another and then another.

Not the kind of thing you expect to hear from a husband. But you know I’m anything but typical, considering the businesses I’m running and the life I lead. Yet I choose to be here. Yes, it’s time to get out of bed. The old Day Job and my new career have something in common. Am I ashamed? One made me, as the song goes, “You make me wanna die.” Career-wise, the other is all about bedrooms, and I’m trying not to enjoy it every day. What does that mean for us? We’ll get to that, but yeah, you know why my love. It’s why I pay particular attention to a corner of the bed. Why an empty dog bed remains, a pillow, the loveseat…?

Sometimes I’m surprised you haven’t put me in the doghouse. For all my shortcomings as a husband… um, Will Smith put it like this. “If I’m being the best lover and friend. Am I being the best daddy I can? I pray I am.” Is it wrong to thank B III for all his lessons? Looking at our children now, my love. And how I read to them before bed. Wanting to sit with them, at the slightest sneeze or tummy ache. Oh, when they were babies… I’ll admit that cleaning up after Braxton was easier. Every parent talks about losing their Saturdays. Baby Girl, that started when I had to check out PetSmart every week looking for… There’s still that empty bed sitting there.

Will that be a moment of celebration or a day of betrayal? Grieving overtaking loving. Neither has a time limit. And both can be done from the comfort of this bed we share. I can stay here and cry all day, and when you’re here with me, well? You do have some things over Braxton. I could weep, read, feed, etc. But when it’s just the two of us, love? Breed? Yeah, that’s crude of me in a way. But my business is in adult entertainment. Inevitable. Only it’s a damn celebration when I can even get through the day anymore. I’m trying, and I want to say it’s time, like with books. Baby, “Just call my name, I’ll be there.” B There, B Square.

Gospel 313 ~I Will Not Die Today~

464 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 311 ~B A Little Faster~

WillLeave a comment

Well, it’s Mother’s Day, and I’m late getting mine a gift… I never knew Triple B’s furry mom, and again I’m late finding him a human mom. Oh, and I shouldn’t forget B’s two aunts. Both are moms. I’m always running around or away. “B A Little Faster.”

Sunday, May 8, 2022

Chronicle 311 ~B A Little Faster~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now. But what is taking you so long? Today you couldn’t wait to get to the dinner table.

You sound like “The Man.” That’s what Braxton is, “The Man.” You have to keep saying “is,” you know. He’s out there. Or at least that’s what you’ve bought into for the foreseeable future. When you get the chance, you need to go over my dreams. Time enough at last? Ha! If anything, you are always late when it comes to everything. But the damnable Day Job. The things you are late for, if we start with today. Yeah, it’s Mother’s Day and your gift? What about the money you were supposed to send elsewhere? Conversation needed? Yeah, and not like it’s helping, but where’s your Cranberry juice? Cappuccino wanted. Now yeah, you can balk at me all you want, like with Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing When Your Pet Dies: A Guide to Mourning, Remembering…
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

One, of course, always goes by the quickest. Is there a lot to say about your dead B III? Braxton is the best man you know. Fifteen years, eleven months, and add on another 462 days for him. Every day there is another reason to miss him; To remember. And I know you won’t commit this to memory (sigh). How about this if you ever go back to Whisper and finish the books I laid out. 352 reasons to miss B III? You’ll keep that like you keep your fingers out of your ears. The last thing you need is to pay $175.00 to turn your ear into a Bukkake scene again. Okay, that’s an example of something you won’t say. But Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Pet Loss Poems: To Heal Your Heart and Soul
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Now starting back at one: I read, run, and remember my son. As I was able to raise such a man as he. If you remember such a man as your B III? What does that say about you today? Today, I would like to say that you can’t be as bad as you think. B III loves you always… You believe that life moves way too fast, and in a way, that’s true enough. The gas station yesterday? Humiliations Galore! You run from battle. Think of it more as you run a step or two behind Braxton. That is why you fail. It’s your duty, privilege, honor, your fucking job to protect him. What are you running to? Meet him. B A Little Faster

Gospel 311 ~What’s A Mom, B~

462 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 310 ~The Sorrows To B~

WillLeave a comment

Long ago, I got super heavy into daily motivations. But I no longer imagine things can/will be better. But B taught me that they can’t get worse. Tears, the sweat of my brow, other bodily fluids… Um, I don’t think alcohol could dull, The Sorrows To B

Saturday, May 7, 2022

Chronicle 310 ~The Sorrows To B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, ha-ha. Some of my smaller investments include McDonald’s, Subway, Pizza Hut, Buffalo Wild Wings, Krystal, etc.

I feel like crying, Lady Lunalesca. There was a time when being sad didn’t make me hungry. Much like anger, grief takes a lot out of you. If you’re wondering why I’m talking to you so late, my Lady. Yeah, 6:30 in the morning. It’s quite specfic Lady Luna. Tears. Lying here in bed, it’s like I’m flooding the boat. And then the moment I get up, it’s like an ocean of tears. I’m sure I’ve said before I can’t swim. Yet one way or another, I always make it back to bed. I always say, when it rains, it pours. And I don’t mean in a Luke Combs type of way. Water, water, everywhere, as THEY say. But shopping, some puppies, a shitty lawn.

I feel like sweating? Not today, Lady Lunalesca, but what if I found Braxton today? He could be there, you know, at PetSmart. Hell, was it this week or the last one; I looked up Deer Head Chihuahuas? Fur babies are a lot of work. And considering what I’ve been doing. Today I need to check my schedule, but for now, I’ll do the work of missing my son B III. That means I continue to exist. I would shed tears over him than go into the Day Job and sweat. It’s not only the work but the fear. As always, the humiliations galore, I suffer in that place. How about everyday existence? If I had only gotten up earlier instead of hitting the snooze.

I feel like making love, ha, now that’s a laugh. Only I don’t feel like laughing with everything I continue to do. Why can’t I keep “it” in my fucking pants as I did before? 161 days Lady Lunalesca. This isn’t right at all. But I would choose depression over the disgust that happens the moment after. I’m pathetic and sad, but not enough to know how to stop. Do I want to go back to hiding if I had one more four-legged kid around? Do I want to know the worst pain I have ever had in this existence in what, another 15 years? Why not cry about the Day Job, my dick, and the disgust with my presence? Braxton, The Sorrows To B.

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

461 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will