Tag: Sick

Chronicle 016 ~Braxton Takes An L~

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Fear, Failure, and other effing words wake me up more than any sort of joy. That joy, of course, had a name, Braxton. What do you call someone who loses? No, B III didn’t lose because when his life was over, who made that happen. Braxton Takes The L.

Saturday, July 17, 2021

Chronicle 016 ~Braxton Takes An L~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’m still working at a loss with Braxton being gone. Live, Laugh, Love, not me.

I don’t Live because I’m afraid. Lady Luna, you don’t know how sick and tired I am. It’s being afraid every single day. Is today going to be one of THOSE days? Yes, I’m afraid so after yesterday. Oh, I gave it the good ole college try; when it came to the novel. 1400 words. It was the Day Job, Lu, but I suppose I should be grateful. Start every day with gratitude, THEY say. I didn’t have to walk to the Day Job, yet I spent the entire day terrified. You can’t have one without the other like always; stupidity and humanity, sigh, me. It’s the fact that I can’t do Drive-Thru Pick-Ups? How I closed the Online Pick-Up room to hide from people?

And THEY Laugh at my need for some Emotional Support. At least all the focus would have been on Braxton. I would Laugh at myself if I thought that any of this would get any better for me, Luna. Giving one customer their order isn’t some Twist In My Sobriety. A cure for my anxiety, No, I’m still sweating from the thought of it. I’m screwing up my Six Impossible Things because I need to feel good. What is it about laughter being the language of the soul? I swear I would sell mine, well what’s left, bringing back Braxton. M Anime lost all her texts, but somewhere I brought up live, laugh, love. I can’t stand that phrase, to be honest. But to Love…

What, again? Speaking of another book, The Bible. “The greatest of these is Love,” you know 1 Corinthians Faith, Hope, and Love. If I ever get married, I do plan on having that read. But then again, the “Greatest Love Of All” by Whitney Houston. I can’t feel it now.
Oh, I love Braxton. That never goes away. Only I don’t love myself, and that’s because of all this fear. If I can’t deal with one woman for two to five minutes. Hating the ASM. And I don’t know; the guilt, continuing for 167 Days. B III didn’t take an L; I gave him one. That’s because I wasn’t giving a FUCK about him or myself when it would’ve mattered. But Braxton Takes The L.

167 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 009 ~To B So Well~

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Last week I spoke of being comfortable, and there’s a reason you shouldn’t check out WebMD. It gets in your head, and the next thing you know, you’re dying. No, only Braxton’s still gone. He got sick, and I’m not crazy, just unwell. To B So Well

Saturday, July 10, 2021

Chronicle 009 ~To B So Well~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford the best doctors. Do I feel sick? Not like that, Luna.

To think I got up while the moon was still high to get something done today. Hey, playing mobile games beats going back to sleep okay. Honestly, I’m still fighting it, but I have too much to do today. I would make a list but dammit those Six Impossible Things. Yes, today is Saturday, and yeah, I thought of one more thing I have to add to the list. Because I didn’t have enough faith in myself. I figured I wouldn’t finish one book. This evening I have to read a short story. That’s on top of finishing the novel; I know I can too. Now didn’t I say no list? Otherwise, I won’t get anything done. It’s not like I have a choice, right?

Is that the longest I’ve gone without mentioning Braxton? I guess I am sick, which makes today even more “important.” For days on end, I’ve been talking about receiving my second dose of the COVID-19 vaccine. See what I did there? I didn’t get flagged yesterday. Facebook, what do you think of that in comparison to Thursday? Anyway, I am a bit excited? I should be about lunch with Carolina Bound, but I got that new chicken sandwich from McD’s on Friday. Let’s say I may have to rework my novel, touting B III’s love of it. You can’t go around changing history; what am I, a Republican? My son is still dead. I can never forget. So what today’s needle might do to me?

I could be coming out of the “fatigue” I’ve been feeling these last few days, but I’ll never “Be Well.” The kind from Demolition Man with everything I’ve been doing. Braxton being gone… that’s crazy but nevertheless a fact. Again I’m not a Republican. Like the song goes, “But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell.” There’s no medication. Wanting to die and going out of my way to make it happen are different things, right? I guess I’ll see soon enough with whatever this vaccination brings Lady Luna. Impossible now sounds like keeping it together during lunch today. If anyone might understand, it’s Braxton’s aunt. She has her stuff too, but she’s keeping it together. But Without Love Luna? To B So Well

160 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 344 ~Remember To B III~

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Remember to Be Free of guilt, to Breathe Free, and damn I should add more beef to my diet, but no, and why not. B III isn’t here anymore, and that isn’t my freedom; it is his from the pain, and I need to know that. “Remember To B III.”

Thursday, June 10, 2021

Gospel 344 ~Remember To B III~

130 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine B III begins with a promise I made to apologize to you. I’m sorry.

Be Free of the guilt I carry… NEVER. Even before we started talking today, I burst into tears. At least I’m free of my bed this morning. I made it up, if only to feel like I did ok now. God knows it wasn’t being your Daddy. A strange Dad joke it is when I told you to Be Free, B III? You’d come back. My B had to run the yard. So am I a prison warden, my son? A mourner, a missionary, trying to regain monk status. Things can’t and will not go back to the way they were. This was your place, and I know you’re in a better place now, B. Braxton, I keep telling myself that as you sit there?

Breathe Free, as now I struggle still crying a bit. If I could drop dead right now… You don’t want to hear that, but what I wouldn’t give to listen to your paws or your barking. Anytime I attempt to clean up, I wonder how many of those dust balls have remnants of your hair? It’s why I focus on the bathroom. Only I had to wash the rugs. Ants invaded. As I said before, I’m in prison, but the thing is, I was freer with you than anybody. The best times of my life were lying here reading everything with you jumping my belly. The last free breath I ever took was the one that became your last Braxton. Now every single one costs.

Beefy foods… I should be buying plenty more. If you were here, I would be eating better because you would want me to share. Voluminous vitamins, vittles… vitriol. Braxton, it might not be a lack of sleep but of any decent sustenance, and I continue ticking after 130 days. I’m thinking more with my heart than my stomach. I keep pushing you back in. Then here I go vomiting all of this only to find another picture of you, A thought of you to sustain me for a bit longer. You’d prefer fries B III. Jonesing onion rings. Which hurts more. Well, the first reminds me to share; the latter reminds me I am alone. Neither replaces love. Yet I try. Remember To B III

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 337 ~Digital Sets B III~

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What if Braxton isn’t getting these “letters?” He spent fifteen years, eleven months looking after me, and if he wanted a vacation, I get it. Is that what I’m calling it, the ticking clock until we see each other again? I HOPE. Digital Sets B III yep

Thursday, June 3, 2021

Gospel 337 ~Digital Sets B III~

123 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? To think I’ll get lucky and get to come home early. Work sucks and home…

These days the Day Job is worse. Here I am about to insult you like the mom you never got to meet. What I mean is, being here without you was not one of our walks. I wanted to be anywhere else but with the ASM and my general loathing for the company’s staff. Whoa, I should be careful B III. Noted you were usually asleep while I watched the news. So they were talking about some dude bad-mouthing his company. I usually did that when you were here, but now I’m talking to you like this? It’s best not to think about it. Hell, that’s all I ever do anymore is try not to think about it, Little B. Then again, there’s always you.

Would you have me not think about the 123 days you’ve been gone? I can’t help it, and I don’t ever want to forget. You can see that around my neck every day, my own collar in a certain way. So I come back and what, not think about you? With what I’m doing now? Destiny, Disgusting, Discovery, Dirty, and all thanks to my dog. My son, you will always and forever be that, Braxton. You died, and I don’t want to believe that January 31, 2021, was your time. Besides killing you, I had all sorts of disgusting ideas. But I found you B. On my video camera, even more photos of the two of us “happy,” maybe you. Now everything is dirty, tainted.

THEY say I should let you go, but here I am hoping that you’re not watching me. I want you to be happy and do whatever good boys and girls do on the Rainbow Bridge. Meanwhile, your memory is like me keeping a digital watch. I look, and there it goes, I killed you. I keep track of everything. My phone still buzzes three alarms dedicated to seeing you alive and healthy. So I’m crying again and saying Depression, never. Acceptance would be like owning an analog watch. It would require me to think for a bit, or maybe I’m just lazy, which explains why there is so much work to be done. All you are for the world to see. Digital Sets B III

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 330 ~Just A Minute B~

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At least with the Day Job, every minute nets me something. The minutes I’m wasting with “Stuff and Thangs” isn’t helping. Only all those minutes I had with my son, where did they all go? “Just A Minute B.”

Thursday, May 27, 2021

Gospel 330 ~Just A Minute B~

116 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I understand if you can’t bark right now. I’m pretty busy too, “stuff and thangs.”

It’s still funny… well, not, but you know what I mean. I have this whole empty house, and I turn into a monk. I don’t have to let you outside or wait until I get into the shower. Hell, I’ve started a whole new “project,” but I’m only sending off videos of better days, Braxton. Speaking of which, while I was looking up old material, and yes, I am always working on your album. It’s the reason it’s taking so long. Everywhere I look, there you are. I have videos of your baths and of you working on your pancake impressions in my lap, Braxton. What I wouldn’t give for one more of those. The last time you sat in my lap… again, not really.

The vet gave us time, but you were hurting. You were hurting that Friday, January 29, 2021. What I mean is that day, you chose to climb into my lap. The first time you asked me for something that I couldn’t give. To save you. Dammit, the minutes were wasted. Braxton, I’m not yelling at you, and I’ll never stop saying this is my fault. I know it B III. When you asked for a minute, it was my duty, responsibility, and honor to be there B. But was I?

I remember when you leaned against me as I brushed my teeth and I was scared for you. But no worries B III, I came back from the Day Job, and you were better and pretty hungry too. Popcorn’s good

I swear there aren’t enough hours in the day to love you. You know something; part of the reason I became a monk, ha-ha, is because besides getting to The Rainbow Bridge. I know that’s not how it works, but I’m thinking of all that time gone. I’m torturing myself. You never wanted my pain, and that’s why you didn’t come into the bathroom and lean against my leg again. You had the strength to make it to your water because you wanted me to believe you were okay. Triple B, you hid under the bed because I started freaking out. SIGH it wasn’t fair, Braxton, but I had my moments. 15 Years or 7,884,000 minutes and the month of January. Just A Minute B.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 111 ~Hoping That’s Butterflies Will~

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It’s getting a bit breezy, so I haven’t seen any butterflies lately. I had a bit of a stomach bug last week, and I know that’s TMI. Plus, I haven’t had dinner yet, but what am I in the mood for? Yeah, like it matters. “Hoping That’s Butterflies Will”

Tuesday, October 20, 2020

Gospel 111 ~Hoping That’s Butterflies Will~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I can afford doctors like Trump, I reckon. You know I become such a baby when I’m sick. Even My Dæmon (the little Imp) has dragged a blanket over to me. One more reason our two-legged kids won’t meet their granddad on my side of the family. He made me puke on the tea-cups, honest. Now usually, I don’t talk about stomach stuff. Cleaning up after the Dæmon is enough. So I was listening to Michael Jackson’s “Butterflies” and thought, “funny feeling in my tummy.”

When I first saw you, as an example. So, I’m not one to kiss and tell, but I sent a girl a picture of a Butterfree from Pokémon. What, she spoke about butterflies, so I shared some lyrics. I never even got a kiss, but you were the first one to understand me, My Love. With you, I felt the butterflies once more. Hell, we even danced to the song Butterfly from Crazy Town. I still can’t believe that. I couldn’t dance with Indiana Gone at her wedding. Yet when it was You And Me… I’m going to reminisce about every song heard My Love. “Fear is the heart of love” as I Will Follow You Into The Dark played. Good thing I wasn’t drinking then. It would have made me braver. A stomachache, either because of the booze. Or the fear, but I didn’t want to mess up your dress. That was quite heavenly.

Once upon a time in my sad days, I had the Day Job, and I was sick every morning. I couldn’t eat breakfast, and I would take a bottle of water and Sprite to work. Now to live a dream within a dream. And let’s say that my appetite has improved in every way imaginable. Maybe I’m hungry. With the novels I’ve been reading, the third thing that’s the most talked about is food. You know I’m a traditionalist, but I believe women should do whatever they want. My mom was in business; only she could cook up a storm. McDonald’s was a stable of my bachelorhood, to be honest. I’ll never say no to a Big Mac or a Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese. Filet-O-Fish sandwich? I’m “Coming Home To You” Baby Girl but the way to my heart…

I’m the typical guy babydoll, Nah. Hoping That’s Butterflies Will

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 097 ~Will Goes To L~

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Unlike a zombie virus, I think love will find me someday. Well, I do have puppy love if you count my little pancake running around the house. Maybe it’s all his hair floating around everywhere or a change in the weather. Will Goes To L

Tuesday, October 6, 2020

Gospel 097 ~Will Goes To L~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but my favorite color will always be black. While I like tigers, my favorite animal will always be my dæmon. How many secrets do I want to share with you? LOTS. The L-word Baby Doll? I wish I could say that you were the first woman I ever said that too. People can be bad influences using that word all Willy-nilly. I tell my dæmon, you, our other children every day. I love you. Look at me being all sentimental and because of a stuffy nose. I can be a big baby when I get… nope.

Let me LIVE the dream. The Impossible Dream because I’m not sick. Only when you live in the plague era for going on how many months? There were times where I merely existed from one day to another. I want to breathe because one day I’ll have lots to say. Not only about the current bit of LITERATURE I’m reading. I could talk about books for hours and how many times I’ve been, Accidentally In Love, as the song goes. We haven’t taken the kids to the library in ages, and now my favorite movie spot is about to close. It’s like LISTENING to all those 40s and 50s apocalyptic tracks that are now coming true. If something was wrong with me, I wouldn’t want you here and at that time… well, you know me, misery and company as THEY say. Yet you’re my sunshine.

Baby, You’re My LIGHT, so am I in Heaven already. Anything without you would be Hell. Damn, how serious did that get? It’s like looking on WebMD that will always tell you you’re dying. We should be enjoying the sunshine or basking in each other. Surrounding ourselves in this thing called LIFE. If I’ve learned anything from my End of the World ideology. People like me are practically immortal. Well, I got lucky; I didn’t have to wait for the zombie lot to find you. I’m the only boy, and you’re the only girl, ha. We Found LOVE in a hopeless place. Yeah, do I want to stay listening to Spotify all day. I could hear you tell me that you love me repeatedly. The kids are someone laughing at the dæmon. He would Dance On Our Graves now. Hate keeps you living; love’s worth dying. Will Goes To L

I Will Have No Fear

Log 350 ~You Can’t Hide Truth Forever~

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I should have known better. If the Day Job isn’t destroying my life every second, I walk in the place… George Floyd died over twenty bucks, and how dare I? The truth of a black man being threatening but my problems. You Can’t Hide Truth Forever.

Monday, June 15, 2020

Log 350 ~You Can’t Hide Truth Forever~

Hundred And Forty-First Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I have a stomachache, but both result in the same thing. Madam Justice, I am one sick individual. I’m also a man full of many contradictions. As Romeo put it, sad hours seem long, and at the same time, here I am, time-traveling and for what?

It’s still Sunday, but I’m trying to outrun my tears. Hell, if I didn’t freak MILF Dos out before um, I am now. It’s like noticing I screwed up today’s rule, “You Can’t Hide The Truth Forever” (six words instead of five). Anyway I know you’re not Inspector Echo or Dirty Diana. Why do I need to give a confession or an indulgence of my sin? Five stages of grief? As always, I am not a Christian. I quote songs often like Behead The Kings, but I know my Bible, Justice.

“I’m a man of god but I don’t need a savior”

“so don’t be brave, have a little common sense” Behead the Kings by Outerspace

“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” John 8:32

So I will speak my sins, these truths, and who knows, by the time I reach MILF Dos, I may understand what I did wrong.

The D: Now, if anything, I should say the F as I failed plenty because of her. A brunette I met in high school and wrote a lot about in college. That is until I almost ended up in Cell Block D. I was listening to my D. Two Dads, hers and mine almost killed me for my writing. I dropped out of school because I no longer had the dollars. Last I checked The D’s a happily married mom, with some little monsters too.

Sweetness: a young Latina on Youtube. People a long time ago, know I was smitten with her, obsessed. I made videos about her, a blog, hell half of my poetry collection. She put me down easy, though, and I discovered how quickly and effortless it was to destroy my work. Can you say, STALKER Much?

The Harmonic War: I swear this is my greatest shame. I’m sure she would tell you all about it, but I couldn’t even read it myself. I lost a ton of friends for that. To this very day, though, I know TTB and Teen Starlet. I have been led to Russia, and I pay $20.00 a month for Vault Girls.

All That Jazz: She’s a step above The Harmonic War and Sweetness. I won’t tell you where I met her, but all you need to know is I didn’t have the stones to ask her out properly. I gave her a note and put one on her car. Higher powers got involved, and I nearly lost everything. I’ve seen pretty girls in the same place. I’ll never again risk it.

Basic Bitch: I’m angry at her now, but still, it was all my fault. She was another brunette and a divorced one at that. Commenting on her blog, I learned I talked too much. I won’t even go there now. She gave me one of my most “useful” words… SKEEVY. Okay, did take my side.

Rainbow Girl: A lesson from the Basic Bitch. God, I hate sounding like Trump, but “Be Nice.” I tried Madam Justice honest. I named her Rainbow Girl on account of her hair, and after one of my favorite book characters from the Fever Series. One night she brought up butterflies, and I sent Butterfree from Pokémon. She quoted the song “break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored,” and I came back with Crazy Town’s Butterfly. I asked her out twice before this (through text). You know what happened next, BLOCKED.

Okay: A young brunette, all of them have been brunettes or dark hair. (I don’t recall The Harmonic War, but I wasn’t trying anything with her). She was my maid once but more, a good friend. As Positive K put it, “What’s your man got to do with me?” Okay, she’s technically MILF Uno. One day she was supposed to come by and said she couldn’t, and we haven’t talked since. I wasn’t blocked by her. Still, there’s no reason to bother. She’s getting married too and is quite happy.

Cherry: A twenty-three-year-old vixen from across the pond. If we talked about women I had to lie to, she was one I was honest with. Yeah, I wanted to see her naked, and we spoke every day. It’s been about a month since I sent her pieces of my novel. I wrote about her and her mom and, of course, haven’t heard anything back. She likes a post every once and a while, but we don’t speak these days anymore.

MILF Dos: Again, I’m not sure about The Harmonic War, but MILF Dos is the oldest on this list. We met through TIBU and have many mutual connections. About a year ago when she needed money I offered her a deal which worked quite well… yabbos. She went into modeling then stopped. MILF Dos wanted more money, and I was so scared to ask, but I took the leap. We came to an arrangement, and I was over the moon. Now she gave me back my cash because she wanted to deliver first, so no worries. Until Saturday, June 13, I’m lying here in bed, hand in my pants, looking over messages she sent and bam, BLOCKED. Thus my spiral.

Now, what did I do wrong, hmm? I checked in on her earlier in the day with a message. She posted something about being out of work. I responded about my anxiety and being out of work this week myself. I don’t understand, but the moment I realized I went back and commented where I knew she would see it. I was begging her and apologizing, for I don’t know what. The thing is, what do all these women have in common, well besides being unfortunate in ever meeting me.

Of nine again, eight of them were brunettes. Two of them were minorities, All That Jazz was Mixed, and Sweetness was yes a Latina. Only one isn’t American, and that’s Cherry being a Brit. Seven were teens to twenties. Sweetness being the youngest seventeen… Five I have met face to face, the other four all online. Four have blocked me outright. Sweetness is gone, The D I’ve never sent a request. Okay, and Cherry are friends everywhere, and The Harmonic War is on Instagram still. I know you’re telling me right now, Madam Justice, that I’ve lost the mission. What about the rule? I’m telling the truth, I’m not hiding it, I remember. Only I can’t for the life of me put my finger on what I did wrong Saturday.

A part of me doesn’t want to know because chances are I’ll hate myself even more than I do right now. Does Milf Dos think I’m a stalker? Did some secret get out, and then the question becomes which? I could have said something, but what did I do all that night? There’s always the idea that I did nothing but be myself. Yeah, I’m disgusting. Do I need more reasons to consider posting this everywhere? Yeah, letting everyone else decide? I CAN’T BE ME. You Can’t Hide Truth Forever.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 343 ~Want Is Just Another Virus~

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Ignorance and Want only it’s nowhere near Christmas, I know, but if I ever have the money? Well, considering how I feel about the Day Job or the things I actually want to do for a living, I can tell you “stuff” I want. Want Is Just Another Virus

Monday, June 8, 2020

Log 343 ~Want Is Just Another Virus~

Hundred And Forty Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now… or how I want to be. Now, this is the perfect rule for right this second. It’s times like these, I realize that I have a problem. THEY talk about how “some” black men emulate Tony Montana. The Money, Power, Women, Gimme.

It’s no secret that this week I want, hell, I need money. I ought to be ashamed, Madam Justice. Only today (Saturday) I had a full day, and what have I done with it? To my shame, I slept, and Eric Thomas often talks about being willing to give up sleep. There’s also the fact I wanted that so badly I didn’t get myself a snack. How much will it cost to get over my fear of being awake? Even now, I checked out my schedule for next week and what do think I saw. SHOES, HOME & KIDS, dammit, I want money, so I’ll never have to listen to these STUPID people ever again. Now isn’t that the dream, and sounding like Trump? I do think having money does make you deaf. Of course, I hear everything which tells you all about my finances.

You know I’m one to quote Master Yoda, Fear, Anger, Hate, Suffering. Money leads to Power or the whole Rock, Paper, Scissors Dynamic. Power, Knowledge, Money. Money buys Power, Knowledge can take Money, Power crushes Knowledge. I want the power to not look STUPID. At this time, I want enough strength to stand up to my boss. Anger makes me sick, Madam Justice. I would say it makes me powerful, but here I am like a lamb to the slaughter and why? A Black woman and now ain’t the time.

What, for women? As Jake Morgendorffer put it, “God, God, Dammit,” how do you think I woke up after my nap? Drooling over “Specs,” Alyson Hannigan, and I’ll take a shot at saying Alison Rey because I need to stop looking at porn. I’m a master detective when it comes to that but can’t find one old lady, an electric knife. Even with NO FAP, I’m going crazy, and I want to… well, go off like a fire hose. I remember the words satisfaction is the death of desire, and that’s why I’m a dead man most of the time.

At least want shows I’m still fighting or about to. Want Is Just Another Virus.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 280 ~Time Is A Cruel Bastard~

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What time is it? I swore I lost my watch yesterday, so I spent $15.00 buying a new one, and what was hiding under my seat? What I even left the house for? Woke up this mornin’, got yourself a gun. “Time Is A Cruel Bastard” and what it’s making me… hm

Monday, April 6, 2020

Log 280 ~Time Is A Cruel Bastard~

Hundred And Thirty-First Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I don’t have to go out. Well, at least until; my would you look at the time. As always, Madam Justice, like Professor Hulk, “Time Travel!” “Time, time, time, see what’s become of me,” as the song goes. In all these years, even minute to minute, I’m changing, rearranging, and estranging the man I am. From the one I want to be or have to, I’m not sure. So if you wouldn’t call me a bastard, then what am I.

A gun owner for starters. Now I started to say something, but I signed paperwork yesterday. You know how Cherry has me afraid someone is reading this currently. Anyway yeah, I stood in line for hours to as the song goes, “Woke up this mornin’ Got yourself a gun.” I’m a pervert, but that’s always been the truth. Whitney Wright was talking about “FREE PORN’ on Brazzers, so of course, I’m in. Minutes after, I looked up one of her films first, “Wh*re Tornado.” Before you get mad, you should consider what I usually look up as time goes by. It gets darker, more depraved, or even disgusting. I feel sick, but not because of that. No, it’s not the Coronavirus (COVID-19) either. It’s the feeling I got when I first picked up my gun. I want my zombies Madam Justice. Only this is the first time I’ve held a tool that has but one encompassing purpose in this world.

I’m a father, but what have I done for My Dæmon lately? He has his food, his meds, comfy spots, but in all this time, I’m still not the Dad I should be for him. Case and point I should have talked to you earlier and be playing with him now. One more morning of cutting off my alarm. How about the fact that I’m still alone? The two women I talked to yesterday and I’m upset about the one that stopped me at the door to the store. Madam Justice, that interaction will haunt me for the next week. I’m a writer, and then I’m not because; how many words did I write yesterday. I didn’t even reach the quota because of all the lines I was standing in because instead of life, what?

Munitions, masks, my monster in my pants, how I know, Time Is A Cruel Bastard.

I Will Have No Fear