Tag: Son

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

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Not to get all racial or woke, but I’m the black workhorse at my Day Job, um mule. My manager is black, but the CEO is a white lady. So when’s the last time I made a real choice? Only me? Braxton’s death? “Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing.”

Monday, December 13, 2021

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

Two-Hundred and Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I answer to no one. Well, shareholders, if I’m in business. But to be God…

I’m a BELIEVER… NOT. Only I know why men made God in their own image and not vice versa. A white man, giving brown people orders. The same guy, trying to save the Jewish people from themselves. And who takes credit for everything. America, America. Hell, thinking is hard work. This is why most people tend not to do it. A long time ago (a couple of weeks), I didn’t. I could pump my ears full of music or listen to people speak of imaginary worlds. Obeying my “superiors” was easy. Without this J? RAGE!!! Every day I become more and more of a Republican. Not in ideology but in practice. When you disagree… it feels like dying or killing.

Dangerous words, I know, Madam. Now Braxton was the best boss I ever had. “Then you’ll find your servant is your master,” as the song goes. I swear I became a savant of his doggie language. A soldier, faithful and loyal. A sling, carrying him around, my son B III. When he stopped breathing, I swear I stopped too. Who was in charge? It’s like that episode of The Twilight Zone circa 2002 “The Path.” Braxton could read me, and through him AHEM, “I believe I can see the future.” I did what was needed to keep us going, J. Now what’s left to me now is the breathing, and you know how I am about that most days. I don’t want to, I’m afraid to, it hurts a lot.

But I’m in charge. Stupid me beats out my manager, managing Olds, pairs of mammaries. We, of course, know that’s a lie because I’ll be going back to my Day Job at some point, Madam. If anything, I must obey my Olds, or I’m homeless a loser at thirty-seven, Madam. Mammaries, Yabbos, Tits, you ask me why I’m sitting here naked planning on working on my Stuff And Thangs today. Did I, honest to God, believe; I was going to be an OnlyFans star? Nope but that’s what I get for listening to one head instead of the other, Madam. Once I read everything is about sex, but sex is about power. Our ultimate obedience is to power, not life. Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing

316 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 164 ~B-Plus, B-Minus, Just B~

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How to be positive. I remember walking B III and some animal coming close and B wanting me to pick him up. A part of me had to be ready for war, and another had to tell him we’d be ok. When it was people, it was his turn. B-Plus, B Minus, Just B

Sunday, December 12, 2021

Chronicle 164 ~B-Plus, B-Minus, Just B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, while you’re only hoping to get through the day. Please don’t go manifesting the worst-case scenario. Again?

One of my favorite stories and yours is The Scorpion and The Toad. We’ll get to that. You know how your motivations speak about being grateful. To start each and every day with gratitude. What was the first thing that came to mind when you got up? I mean, for real. There’s the fact that you were hard as a rock, but the bedsheets remain immaculate. Braxton’s “memorial,” “tribute,” is it “routine” continued as scheduled, flawless. Impossible, but you will be getting out of bed today to go somewhere. Doggies, B-Dubs. Already you’re thinking of all the negatives. You’re not fucking for real. You’re almost out of treats for B III. The bag in his drawer is empty. And Sunday is the worst day now.

See, with everything going on in your mind. You’re forgetting about those Six Impossible Things. Yet you will keep on moving. Here’s a question. What’s the difference between a B-Plus and a B-Minus? How about B positive blood and B negative. You’re a D student. Speaking of which, that’s what you’re always thinking with, you’re D. A sad world, hmm? You’re about to spend more money you shouldn’t, on what. Hot sauce, fast food, Yabbos. The fact that yet again a week has gone by and what have I done? What will you do now? If anything, you need to get up and start getting ready to head out. And so what if you came back with a friend, woman, or dog. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Succubus Christmas Special (LitRpg)
    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 017 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 024 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

They will still be here no matter what. This leads me back into the story. I’m sure sometime this week, I talked about those saying love yourself first. To be happy because that’s no one else’s responsibility. All my fuck ups aren’t yours, and yet you will. What am I doing, time-traveling again? No, today is Sunday, and this week you will be exhausted from the Day Job when you talk to the girls. I’m suggesting that you can’t change who you are. If anything, I can only wish you the best of luck. Not jailed, fired, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading The Christmas Nanny by Elizabeth Kelly
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums (A Picture Daily)
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 024 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Things that may come true; Because as far as you being a positive person at some point this week. My friend, B-Plus, B-Minus, Just B.

315 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 163 ~Why I Didn’t B~

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Why I didn’t bring him home, more like why didn’t I bring him back alive but you know I’m one for music and the truth. That is, if I’m not “Manifesting” the worst possible scenario for my life. Not like I’m living or trying. Why I Didn’t B.

Saturday, December 11, 2021

Chronicle 163 ~Why I Didn’t B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but why wasn’t I sooner? Uh, because you’re a fucking lazy ass? Braxton gave that look.

Only what was I talking about last week or the week before? Noticing puppy paws? Besides the paws that were too big, I also saw tails. What dog would be happy seeing the Cheshire cat smiling down on them (My Mask)? Um, only pups deserve a smile, Lady Lu. So why am I still sitting here alone? I’m over the whole “Chase” scenario. I’ll never be over Braxton, but Chase sealed it. It’s a Chihuahua or nothing. I told you I’m a dog snob. Braxton ruined me for other dog breeds, and don’t think about it like that, Lunalesca. Well below losing Braxton and my paranoia. It’s that fucking Mariah Carey song All I Want for Christmas Is You. My answer, my B III alive.

So why didn’t I try harder? Republican tendencies or more like Slave Mentality. Work hard, do what you’re told. Hell, when I’m not at the Day Job, I’m getting myself into so much trouble. One way or another, I will myself into a punishment all for B III, I know. Why didn’t I dream positive thoughts today? That’s not my motivational speeches talking… fucking Day Job. Instagram is trying to pick up the slack, sending me “inspiration” from some rich white guys. Most days, my only motivation is not to get fired from Hell, Lady Lu. Everything “I Rise” for is no damn good for me. That includes my novel, which I haven’t looked at upon completion. NaNoWriMo should kick me out, I swear Lunalesca.

Why I didn’t stop myself from lying. I wanted to win, and I did the 50,000 words ok. I did. Why I didn’t stop myself; from stuffing my face when I came back? Tradition Lunalesca. Why I didn’t live in a way that would make B III proud of me. He would still be alive. Yet the most fucked up thing I’ll say about today is this. I “Don’t Know Why” I didn’t come. Yes, we both know I have a thing for hot brunettes. Michelle Branch, Vanessa Carlton, Norah Jones, Mariah Carey, ha. Anyway, I’m still claiming monk status after what happened this morning. I didn’t come. I didn’t cum. Who am I trying to convince? Hmm. TMI right? Living? Why I Didn’t B

314 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 158 ~Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won~

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Pick up your cross peace is found at the lance’s point. Pens are mightier than swords. All I want is to carry my son. A season of peace, but I hate Christmas, like the dude in Succubus Christmas Special. I’ll behave, but Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won

Monday, December 6, 2021

Chronicle 158 ~Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won~

Two-Hundred and Seventeenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that counts as winning. You don’t get “better” than that, as far as I can see.

To be honest, today, I don’t feel like fighting anymore. One more reason I had Braxton. A son shouldn’t fight his father’s battles, but how often will I say this? I’m out for the count, and there he is, watching over me. Braxton’s protection. A toy dog? Toy Soldier. Madam, I’m not wise. So they say, um, grief is love with no place to go. Oh, ok, true enough. The same can be said with rage. My rage is justice that can never be served, but it stays, Madam. I feel like fucking Oceania. That might be a decent stripper name, but I don’t mean it like that. It’s more like George Orwell’s “1984.” The war inside myself is continuous, and I didn’t even start this shit. It’s not fair.

All’s fair in love and war, and I don’t want either. At least I don’t want to be alone, J. As the song goes, “before you start a war, you better know what you’re fighting for.” Again “don’t put your blame on me.” I’m sick of it, and yet I stay. There’s nothing else, Madam. So why not try winning? If anything, why not try fighting at all? Today’s example… Madam, when I was “young,” and of course you know this tale, but I was in the navy a bit. I thought I would find my manhood somehow with serving. Three weeks later… Sigh. Anyway, today, a coworker busted her lip after slipping on the floor. And me being a gentleman… Gotcha, I stayed put.

A good man would have helped her. A brave man wouldn’t have spent all day hiding as the womenfolk went rushing into the rain. After a decade of wasting his life, a real man would be running that place. Yes, I’m fighting a war, Madam, against grief, rage, and fear. Going all Yoda on your ass? Ass, I’ll behave, Madam, Nineteen Days, Cherry, Carolina Bound might be pissed. So here I am, my enemies are known, in a war I never asked for. And if you told me I could stop fighting? Thirty-seven years and at least I ain’t dead. 309 Days without my son, brother-in-arms, and tireless defender. To accept that I can win this without Braxton… UNACCEPTABLE. But Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won.

309 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 157 ~Time To B Wasted~

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I don’t drink… much. If anything, I refer you to “Drunk On You.” A big thanks to Braxton’s Aunt (not my actual sister.) I owe her TWO big thumbs up for keeping me UP a little longer. I went to bed at a reasonable hour though still… “Time To B Wasted”

Sunday, December 5, 2021

Chronicle 157 ~Time To B Wasted~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would say if you listened to your motivations… Hate to tell you, but that’s illegal.

The start of a new week, and you haven’t stopped ranting, raving about “air pods.” Brother, I don’t blame you. No wonder you took a chance to cover your shift. Should have done it yesterday, but that was my own cowardice, my apologies to you. Anyway, if you could listen to your air pods at the Day Job, it would only be to people’s reactions. There’s nothing wrong with that, I know. It’s only the facts these past few days. If not that, then how about crying for your son again. Here you are all dressed up with nowhere to go. You even shaved, and for what? Hell, you counted out $310.00 in your wallet. No doggies at PetSmart. But movement on Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading A Sincere Warning About the Entity in Your Home
    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 011 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 017 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Nope, I was, and indeed you are wasting time. Can you imagine if you added a puppy to the mix? Speaking of mixing, don’t you have shrimp waiting for you in the sink. You have a mouth to feed since even breathing seems to be a time suck. Rather starve? Dammit! If it means going to the Day Job, which seems more and more inevitable. The time is winding down. Again, this is all my fault. Fear, friend, stands as one fucking waste of time. Pardon your language. Meaning to say something else but corrections? Shouldn’t I say erections? Didn’t you start writing at 1:00 PM and now 2:20? Can’t I be proud of you for at least finishing your reading? Not, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Succubus Christmas Special (LitRpg)
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 017 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

As you never ever have time for them. Or at least that’s what you’ll keep telling yourself. When it comes to getting out of work, you’ll have all the time in the world. Whether it be the Day Job, writing; this conversation we should have. You will always find something. Being a father, though. To be Braxton’s daddy again. I’ll never forget those last days. Every breath he took, there was not a single second taken for granted. Do you recall love doesn’t tell time? Um, when you’re dying? That’s why you’re a stickler timewise. Chronomentrophobia. You fear you have way too much time for THEM. What you have for yourself… wasted. And B III died because he wasn’t given enough. Time To B Wasted

308 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 156 ~B Feet Gives Paws~

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Like father like son, Me and B III like and get annoyed with the same things. We both like boobs and hate feet. Then it came to his paws, and I did everything in my power to protect his and stay on my feet with my horrific Day Job. B Feet Gives Paws.

Saturday, December 4, 2021

Chronicle 156 ~B Feet Gives Paws~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so when I say stuff like that title. No matter what, I’m still pretty damn funny.

Didn’t I say sometime this week I hate being funny? I also hate where my feet lead me somedays. Pretty much my Day Job, PetSmart, and preparing to live my life as such. In other words, errands. So, of course, that’s what I was doing today. Um, after PetSmart Lu. We’ll get to that. But first, a confession. Hell, not even that. A simple fact. I HATE FEET. It’s just the way I am, Lunalesca. Call it a personal preference like having a thing for brunettes, before them Asian women. Or being a breast man. All women have breasts, Lu. Okay, to some degree, at least. Women have feet too. Yet I adore one and hate the other, I swear. Reasons women don’t like me…

So what does this have to do with my son as everything does? Going on 307 days. How about his 15 years of life? Well, this morning, I’m going into PetSmart, and I see this familiar van that carries some of the dogs, I believe. I walk in, but they aren’t at their usual spot. Needless to say, I was pissed, which is my standard mood. But since I look at the kitties too, I keep going. And I hear the dogs barking in the distance. They moved their cages. Anyway, I started my window shopping and then it hit me looking at the smallest. Cinderella, I swear that’s where I heard this Lady Lu but “Your Feet’s Too Big.” Or paws in this instance.

Yes, I can be a fucking snob, shallow, or some sort of messed-up guy. But I looked at those furries, and the moment I saw their paws, it was an instant “NO” from me. One of the ladies said they would have different dogs tomorrow. Recovering Lunalesca, but trying. I do mean from the Day Job. I didn’t have it in me to try and change my shifts today. That’s gross, my weakness, but what isn’t gross are Braxton’s paws. My B’s toesy wosies. He hated me touching them or rushing him to the vet when they said he stepped on a pine cone wrong. I love Chihuahuas, nice Yabbos and B’s nails clicking on hardwood floors. But Feet, no thanks? B Feet Gives Paws.

307 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 151 ~Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men~

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Docs have diagnosed me with plenty over 37 years. Social Anxiety, Bipolar Depression, Astigmatism (eyes in my head). Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder sigh. The Day Job takes advantage and how I keep a specific collection. Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men

Monday, November 29, 2021

Chronicle 151 ~Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men~

Two-Hundred And Sixteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” But today, “It Is Finished.”

Can I be any more profane, offensive, or STUPID? That’s how I feel about today, J. Can’t I be positive for one whole minute? If I weren’t suffering from a massive case of blue balls at the moment but we’ll get to that. First things first, I’m not lying to NaNoWriMo. That’s right, Madam, for the fifth time, according to the good people at NaNoWriMo, I have completed my 50,000 words. This is the part of the story where I would pick Braxton up and dance. Of course, we’ll get to that too. Right now, my legs are twisted pretzel-like. So I finished “Behave In A Cherry Patch,” so as NaNoWriMo says, Now What? I want all the fucking badges. I can’t stand it, Madam.

Apologies for the language, but I was obsessed with writing my novel and every badge Madam. Come December 1st, I’ll never think about it again until Camp NaNoWriMo. I’ve finished three this year, two camps, and November without my boy. Um, today there was Cherry. Hell, even before her, there was Ariella Ferrera, Yuffie Kisaragi, to say the least. How many times have I wished I could be a regular guy that watches porn? No, I’m one for intimacy, meaning I need everything. Do I need to go over the list again of frightened women? Money though? Every CEO, billionaire, Mafia Don. Whatever money man gets the women in the novels I read. Or a beard and/or a motorcycle. I’m in on some particular Yabbos.

But at least for now, my grief is richer. My promise, my vow to B III. 11 Days right now. It’s been 302 Days without Braxton, though. I believe before, and then when he died, I went 161 Days. B give me strength that I don’t give in to temptation and since I’m done, Madam. Braxton is my obsession. But when he was alive, though, I became indifferent. Obsession leads to trouble, Madam. And it seems, for the most part, my obsession is my own pain. As another song goes, I’m just a sucker for pain. Yeah, fuck you, Hemingway, for dinging the word “just” and the name Grammarly. Oh, there’s the $139.00 you took, Grammarly dammit. Stories, Boobies, Doggies. Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men.

302 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 150 ~B There One Day~

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If I could have one day, any day at all, well, it would be one with B in the world. I dreamed of a beach day with a wife and two kids, Braxton on a blanket. Another with Braxton and my two kids and then running to me, old man he is. “B There One Day”

Sunday, November 28, 2021

Chronicle 150 ~B There One Day~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and as dismissive as I want to be towards you, I’ll say this… you can make it.

But as for now, you’re ashamed. So you are one day away from the end. “Behave In The Cherry Patch.” So the shame; you think of how you should have been toward B III, hmm? You’ve blown off getting your eyes checked and the car fixed, and because of what? It’s the story. One story that won’t ever be published or read, and come Monday, nothing. Like everything else in your life, you go through the motions of accomplishment. But never the acceptance that it all means nothing. The only exception, of course, is B III. Did you refill his water bowl this evening? Yeah, while you were dicking off. You’ll be late to watching Fear The Walking Dead. Even later with Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Only Gone From Your Sight, Kate McGahan, Jack McAfghan
    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 004 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 011 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I swear, will there come a day where this list will be checked off. Every single thing but, of course, this is my failure and my disgrace. You will have yours soon, no question there. Now I’m starting to understand why you’ve got “A Sincere Warning About the Entity in Your Home.” That’s how you feel, knowing I’m trying to warn you about the past. Dammit, the future looks like right now, which means you won’t heed it. If I can offer you any comfort at all. You won’t be writing until 7:10 PM in the evening or later with wasted ick. You are the monster, and one day… well, you don’t even know what to hope for. Is it peace or Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading A Sincere Warning About the Entity in Your Home
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 011 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

The Day Job week hasn’t even begun yet, and you’re hating that song “Someday At Christmas.” No offense to Stevie Wonder, but why then? Why not right now with things. You drift back and forth between someday and one day, and most you wish you didn’t have to wake up at all. Who knows how you’ll pass this night but to finish the book, hmm? That right there is why you write. For that moment of doing something… I don’t know great, generous, gross, but you’ve read plenty of books like that. Remember Succubus, yep. One day I won’t feel like a failure, and you won’t be seeing it down the road. Someday B III will see what you were trying. B There One Day

301 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 149 ~B Brave, 300, 3000~

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B and I were far from 300, but nevertheless, the two of us were an “Army” thank you, Ellie Goulding. What she’s a great singer with what I’m assuming are nice… ok, shutting up about that. It’s been 300 Days without him in my sight. B Brave, 300, 3000

Saturday, November 27, 2021

Chronicle 149 ~B Brave, 300, 3000~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would have been sooner if I got off my ass. More like my balls.

30-year-old, well 37 talking about his dick (pardon my language…) classy. Between recovering from yesterday’s “Humiliations Galore.” And today being PetSmart day or not, no doggies, sigh. And I didn’t have the nerve to call B-Dubs, so Taco Bell, Lunalesca. Again I’m fucking 37 (sorry), and I can’t call restaurants, repairmen, or rescues. Then again, I’m still crying over Braxton, and we’ll get to that in a minute. How about thirty of them, and I give myself far too much credit when it comes to sex. Seen any other women? Not even in my novel. Speaking of which, I’m reading something before the Christmas Erotic Fest. You know me, Lady Lu, TRADITION. “A Sincere Warning About the Entity in Your Home.” Is that what I’m calling B III? Not yet.

300 bucks would be a much better way to honor him. Of course, Grammarly fucked me over for about half of that. $139.00. Fucking assholes! So it led me to do some quick math at PetSmart. The times of plenty are over. When I wasn’t paying for B III’s survival. Now I find more dubious ways to waste money. Let me say AHEM, this bitch got me “Smokin Out The Window.” Only that’s not fair at all, Lunalesca. Fucking Yabbos! Anyway, today will mark 300 Days without my son. I’m trying, ok. I gave “Only Gone From Your Sight” 3 stars. Everything within me wants to say that Braxton is always here. Nothing has moved as far as moving on.

3000 days could go by, and that ain’t happening. I love B 3000, and I ain’t Iron Man either. Regardless of what’s in my pants and I swear I’m shutting up about that. I’ll have to start Succubus Christmas Special soon. I also have Dystopian Girls 3. Sensing a theme? I had 3 days to finish my novel, and I wasted this one away, Lady Lu. I’m 7,500 words away from 50,000. That’s 3 chapters, and you know how the Day Job week is going to be. At least I caught up with “my” 3 girls, Carolina Bound, Cherry, and M Anime. But only seen one pair of Yabbos. I’m not a brave man or a very smart one at that. B Brave, 300, 3000.

300 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 144 ~Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism~

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If I had known the moment I called B and he hopped in the car that this is how it would end? Hell, I do shit all the time knowing that it could come crashing down. Yet my guilt at all that I’ve done hasn’t stopped me… Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism

Monday, November 22, 2021

Chronicle 144 ~Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism~

Two-Hundred And Fifteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I have learned anything from others. There’s no shame, guilt. No need for a conscience.

Mine died 295 Days ago. My soul, my serenity, my son. His Dark Materials put it best, my Dæmon. If I had any reason to stay in line, it was him and now? Well, why do you think I’m calling you so late. Every day I don’t leave this bed, um, every afternoon, I fail. I keep up with Braxton’s treats… what was it a day or so ago? I noticed I missed one. When I leave the house, I keep up the usual banter, and when I return. I’ve had tacos, two days. Hell, Madam, when I don’t bring fries back, I know that I’ve failed Braxton. Daily ritual. When I can’t keep it in my pants because I want to feel something “good.”

Fuck Aria Logan and Cherry, um yes, please if again you’re wondering where I’ve been. Satisfaction? Nope, guilt kept me from coming. It’s the guilt that keeps me from going. Back to bed, that is. Only again, I’m sitting right here knowing I won’t get a wink tonight. Not if I don’t tell you all these horrible things in my life. Losing Braxton, always first. There’s also my nighttime ritual of lying to NaNoWriMo about my progress in writing. What about the Day Job I hate? And yet feel like I failed them, and by God, I did once again. It’s the guilt. I am guilty. And if I told you all my secrets… “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man,” yep.

While I’m busy ripping off songs, “I’m only human after all. Don’t put your blame on me.” While I was reading this evening from “Only Gone From Your Sight.” Jack/Kate says, “stop identifying yourself as my victim.” When it comes to B III, I never have. What do I see? The killer in the mirror, staring back at me. B III is the worst thing I ever got away with. Take your pick with the things that could cost me everything. He’s the one life, the crime everybody goes “meh.” Braxton’s body wasn’t even cold. Father “Get a new dog.” Fucking asshole, and I feel guilty saying that. I say guilt controls and yet my crimes. Braxton is still dead. Guilt Is A Controlling Mechanism

I believe in consequences.

No, you believe in guilt.

Maybe. But guilt before we act is called morality.
“Liberal Arts“

295 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will