Tag: Son

Chronicle 101 ~B It Room 101~

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Room 101, like Asgard, is not a place. The bed could be Room 101 when I want to leave it, but I’m too tired. It’s the feeling behind a closed-door knowing B’s not beyond or way beyond. It’s the knowing I have to go to the Day Job. B It Room 101.

Sunday, October 10, 2021

Chronicle 101 ~B It Room 101~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and when you are, you’ll want a home of your own. Red Room, Library, Study, Sex Dungeon…

This house is not a home. Hell, it’s not even your house, and I’m sorry to be so negative. All I offer is the truth, nothing more. The day always started off better with a puppy stepping on your head. No, not any puppy but Braxton. Living is torturous enough. Without B III and even yesterday at PetSmart, they didn’t have the fur-babies out there. I swear the things that become routine. I’m not talking about sleeping in late. Do you see what time it is, 5:40 AM, and what time you were supposed to be up? Desiring a paycheck? Who are you, Winston Smith, waiting for that bullet as you profess your love for Big Brother. More like the Day Job. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Succubus 7 Fairy Tale ― A LitRPG Series
    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 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I wish I could tell you that I have finished this list. Yeah, I’m not funny; trying not to be. How about saying my betrayal isn’t possible? That’s right, where is Braxton? My Day Job? And speaking of which, dammit, you know that this week like others, will always suck. Only don’t go asking for the caged rats. As much as you deserve it for B. 6 hrs., my boy. I’ve been trying to get you ready with all my studies of torture, Squid Game, Would You Rather, 1984, and the like. Again we’re 6 hrs in, and you see the world continues to Hell. You know your sins, Treachery, Lust, Sloth, Anger, Pride. It seems you’re moving to Envy, Fraud. Better Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading (To Be Determined)
  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 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Of course, you have no idea how you will overcome any of it. The last thing you need is a fur-baby in the mix. I talked about a dream I had the night before last, and now you know what it meant. I told Carolina Bound as much. Oh, she is also on your Onlyfans. Look at you, man, everyone else does, and what do they see? There is always another reason to miss B III. For being so small, he was easy to hide behind. Plus, with all that fur flying, it was better to keep one’s clothes on. Why look at the last man on earth? And no, not everyone considers you as such. Fading away, an Unperson, STOP. B It Room 101

252 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 100 ~Not For The B’s~

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Once a buzzing in the walls was the worst of my problems. I said, “eff them Bees.” It was one of the neighbors, though, and we would all be in trouble without the bees. But for me without B III… books, boobs, bucks, it doesn’t matter, Not For The B’s

Saturday, October 9, 2021

Chronicle 100 ~Not For The B’s~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’ll tell you I would help more animals than people. Oh yeah, my Republican tendencies…

I had a dream as I continued to be a lazy ass this morning. Yeah, I got up at 4:00 AM but slept an extra hour. I’d say, cut me some slack, but I don’t deserve it. At least I’m not sitting in bed buck-ass naked looking for an excuse to do laundry today. I’m back to, day one Lunalesca. So my dream. There was a brown dog, much darker than my Braxton, growling at me that I was trying to fight off. It was with my left arm, you know where I keep planning on getting my tattoo for B. She was a bitch too. I do mean that in dog terms, of course. Well, did I die, you want to ask Lady Lu?

Let’s say; I’m not in the mood to go see the doggies. But it’s Saturday, I’ll stick to the routine. Speaking of Republican tendencies or a white man who leaves the one they love the most. The 30th, remember. “First let me explain that I’m just a black man,” as the song goes, Lady Lu. That’s the one thing I can’t forget in this world. There’s reading the Succubus series. Lunalesca, there are the books. The financial sort that has been kicking my ass some days. What about my book? I should be cheating, as NaNoWriMo starts in November, Lady Lu. More books, but how have I been worried about making money. Yesterday, doing shit that I would never let Braxton see or Beatrice either.

I’m sticking with that name, Beatrice, as in Dante’s Inferno. If I see a brown dog today, I’m steering clear. Can I get more Republican, ha? Didn’t I use to say life is all about Bucks, Babes, and Bullets? Bullion, Biology, Boobs; better Bombs, Brunettes, Burials? Braxton should have always come first, and he did. I keep telling myself that falsehood? I can’t keep my boner in my pants, I refuse to work on my book, and where are all the bucks. Um, ok, in the piggy bank in “Squid Game,” along with people’s brains going everywhere. Living in a world that every day I see more and more that’s doomed. My apocalypse partner… Braxton is dead. Supporting NaNoWriMo… nope, I should help keep the Bees. Not For The B’s.

251 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 095 ~Knocking, Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots~

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I’ll show you a door; you’re the one who has to walk through. I’d tell B I’d never leave for the Day Job again. I hate that door; B hated car doors. Did he know neither of us would look at the front door the same? Knocking Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots

Monday, October 4, 2021

Chronicle 095 ~Knocking, Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots~

Two-Hundred And Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford one of those RING doorbells. Only people knocking here want my money.

Hell, the only doors I’m knocking on are for places I don’t want to be. Well, if you’re destined for Hell, you might as well get there early. You know I hate the crowds, Madam. I got the sins, no doubt. Yet the fact we’re here now J, on the 2nd ha-ha. Sigh Time Travel. That’s sort of what the Den has become. My Time Machine. I ain’t the smartest man (not STUPID). But working the thermostat, managing money, being a good Daddy. The Den is the warmest room in the house with the door closed. Today I miss Braxton’s scratching. I only shut it when he was here because I was mad. Otherwise, with his warmth… Cold, what Cold? I can’t feel a thing.

Hell, I deserve to get sick. I remember sitting there, my feet frozen in place and at the same time beating a path straight to Hell. As the needles took B; disease, vaccine, rejected me. So I won’t get COVID; for once, I was hoping the Republicans were right, and I would die. It’s not like I’m getting laid anytime soon. Knocking boots, as the kids would say. I don’t wear them or anything else, considering what I’m doing. I did have dreams of being a porn star once upon a time. For right now, I want to stay behind closed doors in the Den. Here I am, though, talking to you today because of all the knocking I’ll do. That I’ve done already, Madam.

Edward Norton kicked his own ass in Fight Club. Ain’t that something, Madam. I forgot knocking heads, and somehow the ASM reminds me every time I see his fucking face. Only I never grew into a violent person except against myself. I skipped all the self-harm and went right to, let’s say, the heart of the matter. Even that I fucked up. As for fighting? Every day I’m and out for the count. Not today because I was talking to Lady Lu about a lack of sleep being punishment. We’ll see how long this lasts. Not to Sunday the 3rd. Promises and a Penis take finessing too. Pardon my language today. Am I good at any of this? Opening doors? Knocking Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots

246 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 094 ~Someday B It Sunday~

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Sunday was his last day. A case of the Mondays. Taco Tuesday, do they still have nacho fries? Hump Day. Thursday, I knew he was sick. Working for the weekend. Saturday night’s not alright and repeat. Hell is repetition. Someday B It Sunday.

Sunday, October 3, 2021

Chronicle 094 ~Someday B It Sunday~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you could be too but not today. Monday would help because I’m not going to be.

If it’s any consolation, I did get more work done yesterday, despite all my tears. I’m sorry I chased Carolina Bound off (for the moment…). Hell, I apologize for using M Anime as an excuse. If I paid as much attention to Braxton as I did Books, Boobs, and Bedrooms. Tell you what, I am proud that here you are on another Off Day at 4:00 AM. Not the floor. How bad do you want to take yourself back to bed… not involving OnlyFans mischief? Do you have what it takes to go to the dining room when the time comes; B III’s meds? How many Sundays has it been? In Days, it’s been 245. The worse part of a year for Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Connected Souls (Short)
    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 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I told you I wouldn’t be of much help. To help yourself when you couldn’t do anything for your son. I swear Sundays are cursed days. Tupac wrote, “cause even our birthdays is cursed days.” On that note, you hate E-Day. Braxton had Feb 13th, but dying on a Sunday. Sunday always meant church, threats from your father. Awaiting all the horrors that were to come during the week. B III’s dead. Anything that happens this week can’t top that. The Walking Dead is coming on tonight; wrestling sometimes. With how I felt last night (Carolina Reaper Wings…). Today you’re doing pretty damn awesome physically. Only you’ll be back to routine but didn’t Stephen King say, that’s what Hell is, repetition, plus Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Succubus 7 Fairy Tale ― A LitRPG Series
  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 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

The sad thing is it could be worse… Um no? Thinking such a thing always looks like a step towards Acceptance. Nothing is worse than Braxton being gone. Another life? Every week is filled with, as always, Humiliations Galore. Hell, the highlights include praying if there is a God that you don’t wake up. Fast food might kill you. Sleeping. Saturdays are always about betrayal. I told Carolina Bound about her boys Thor and Loki getting bigger, growing up without a home. This house isn’t home. Not without B III. Sundays though, fuck, you have so many girls to talk to because this week is going to suck. Listen to your motivations, but you know like Fallout, War, War Never Changes. Someday B It Sunday

245 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 093 ~B III Of Time~

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Time is pretty damn valuable, and B III knew it. It’s why he sat on my head so I would have to get some air. He used his 8 ― 10 lbs. of weight to make me get up and walk. Now I have all the time in the world to think about those times. B III Of Time.

Saturday, October 2, 2021

Chronicle 093 ~B III Of Time~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if it wasn’t for Yesterday. To think I’m always worried about tomorrow.

In five minutes, the world is going to end. I know I gave up that theory at some point. Hell, I watched the world end on January 31st, at around 3:30 PM ― 4:00 PM. I’d like to think that’s when Fear died as well. My greatest crime, that pain, there is nothing like it. To be frozen in time, to be dead as B is dead. It has now been 244 days, and I have not moved from that moment. Yes, I am repeating myself in the fact that my darkest sin is Treachery. And so I reside in that level of Hell. Yet my betrayal continues, Lady Lunalesca. Forgive Me…

“Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’, into the future” Fly Like An Eagle

Hell, I’ve been asking for it for 37 Years and going on 25 Days. How close am I to playing like a Christian? I ain’t asking God because I take my own lumps. If I’ve been guilty since the day I was born? If the sins of the fathers are returned on the sons, B III rests in a box. You must be asking what is bringing all of this out of me today. I woke up at 4:00 AM. Today is Saturday, of course, which means I have to leave the house. Petting Fur-Babies? It could be the fact Lunalesca, I have wasted this whole week, continue singing Yesterday. I was deader then. It’s like when the ASM awoke my anger, making me feel.

Now I’m gaining new routines. That’s Fur-Babies, Groceries, and Street Tacos. And with it all? How I wish I wasn’t so damn tired. Now that would be some Hell. I should lie by B’s bed. Yeah, I wasn’t sleeping at all then. So why can’t I promise to do that? For B III, Lady Lu. Imagining the heinous horrors and humiliations that await me next week. And there will be several. I continue to blame myself for what happened, but I didn’t hate my Day Job so much. A former manager asked why I didn’t quit. If I did, I’d join B III much quicker. But I still see him from Yesterday and now, even tomorrow. Braxton remains Always And Forever. B III Of Time

244 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 088 ~Live Like God’s Running Late~

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I’m NOT a Believer, but with people nowadays? If the Force was an actual religion (I heard it is in places), I would be right there for it. If my Braxton was not the word of God, then God never spoke (from The Road). Live Like God’s Running Late

Monday, September 27, 2021

Chronicle 088 ~Live Like God’s Running Late~

Two-Hundred And Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m going to Hell. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk, Richard Branson joined.

Now wasn’t that rude of me. To imagine how many dogs they killed? Hell, the only reason Justice that you’re being dreamed, deferred, denied, and a dozen other D-Words is this. God is running late. He, she, or it does not exist? Again, I continue to go back and forth. Now Braxton lived up to this rule. If I had any chance of getting to Paradise, B III was it. As I was busy not being a monk Sunday, I thought back to the 161 days I deemed myself “good.” Braxton gave me those. Now 239 days in without my fur baby turned angel, dammit. Madam, I’m starting with the “Man In The Mirror” today. Did I mean for that to be inspirational? More fighting.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life ― John 3:16

“All I know is the child is my warrant and if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke” ― The Man, The Road

I hate that guy more than my Old Man. I’m Thirty-Seven, and with as much shit as I talk about my Olds, I would be out on the street without them. That’s an argument for there being a God. Braxton was the word of God, and you know what he said. I love you, yeah. No talk of him running late. Or was it the fact that he tried for fifteen years, a month shy of his sweet sixteen? I don’t blame him for leaving. There’s only so much he can do. Look at the man Braxton had to deal with. No, I don’t mean Onlyfans… unless? Yep, I’m stupid. I still hate that word. A word, the world. Without my B, taking an L.

I’m going to Hell. Ha, at times, I forget I’m already there. So be it for Wrath, Lust, or Sloth. My circles of choice would be between Lust, Anger, and yes, my greatest sin, Treachery. That’s what Acceptance is to me, Madam. That’s why I await God for my damnation. Please, aren’t I living it? At some point this week, things will be worse as I read my Day Job schedule. Oh, and while I’m on the subject of reading, which do you think is worse; “Connected Souls” (Dogs) or “Succubus 7: Fairy Tale.” All the time in the world to read and why shouldn’t I. 52 books in a year like I’m Bill Gates. Love, no but fucking-up to Live Like God’s Running Late.

239 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 087 ~B Fore The Path~

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Where are you going? How was your day? Can we go home?” Braxton could ask me so much with only a look. He was either beside me, in front of me. And then when those four little legs of his were too tired. B Fore The Path.

Sunday, September 26, 2021

Chronicle 087 ~B Fore The Path~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but before you get on the road… Don’t watch “The Road.” You don’t need that negativity now.

Is that all of my good advice for you? Telling you not to go into the Day Job would be a horrible idea. How about you go to sleep. Now that would be the greatest call but wouldn’t do you good. Today it’s the same as ever. Pick it up, put it down, up, down. Honest to God, man, you’ve never had anything for “feet” when it comes to your “adult” viewing habits. Well, certain types of “high heels.” White sneakers, those socks with the ankle fringe, and of course, you’re keeping your black socks on. Okay, I’ll stop, sigh. Yesterday I went to see the cute fur babies again, and I walked that central aisle in PetSmart. The last time at Banfield’s Pet Hospital…

Now, didn’t I say something about negativity? All I offer is the truth, nothing more. B’s dead. Jan, 31 I walked that path to see B III off to the Rainbow Bridge. Walking out alone. Then came Feb, 10 when I went to pick up his remains. I failed as his Dad. You did, yep. You should know that you’ll betray Braxton again when it’s your turn this Saturday. Once more, when you’re on the stairs with “Stuff And Thangs,” or whatever in this house. You’ll walk in the Day Job that you hate so much, and yet you stayed as B III was dying. I know you want to take off like Forrest and go running. Hell, I tried. My father beat my ass.

Something I have never forgotten like I never will my son. Or Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, The Handmaid’s Tale
    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 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Yes, like a fucking treadmill, you run, but you ain’t getting nowhere, so why try, right. I can’t tell you where you want to be this week. The last place you were, the last step. Braxton was a step too far, even if an act of mercy. A killer is still a killer. They keep walking, but you are always bound to that life, bound to Hell. What happens next. Walking the path from The Matrix or a member of Eden’s Gate. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading (To Be Determined)
  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 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Before B III, there was none. With him, at least you weren’t alone. Without him, “Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie-ie.” You’ll walk regardless B Fore The Path.

238 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 086 ~Give B A Hand~

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Didn’t I say something about being up to my neck in… whatever last week. The first thing I read about today is a woman in a noose. Fiction, but um yeah, TX. But I’m more to the idea of finding a way for me to live. Give B A Hand; he was good at that.

Saturday, September 25, 2021

Chronicle 086 ~Give B A Hand~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but maybe if I said, “I’m Will, I AM a Billionaire.” No, I’m Will (only) Will.

I wanted to use another word than that in parentheses, but you know how Hemmingway is. Do I want to spend today complaining about that fucking App? Pardon my French. Also, forgive my SPOILER ALERT if you haven’t read The Handmaid’s Tale. Ofglen (Emily in the show) hung herself. The things I don’t need to be thinking about today Lu. Yeah, yeah, I finished another book. To Braxton, all that would mean is that he would have to get up so I could order another one. Hell reading, writing, it’s what I do. I would say it’s who I am but who is that again? It’s what I have been thinking about since I woke up. I’m Ofwillie. I had another name; it’s forbidden. Daddy

I’m sure I’ve written way more nasty stuff when it comes to women. I in no way, shape, or form wish to insult Margaret Atwood or her work. Can you blame me, though, for being in this state of mind? I have my hoodies, live-by routine, very much fucked. Should I stop Lady Lu? Who knows, in the “future,” like at the end of The Handmaid’s Tale, warning SPOILER ALERT. I could be looked upon as some authority, a genius, a call from the darkness which is this present. A better comparison… Winston Smith. Braxton was here for the reading of 1984, I’m sure. Lady Lu, if you told me it was my purpose to be one of his comfy spots, that’s a life lived.

I’ve told you before that with Braxton, he was the only one who didn’t expect me to be anything more than his Daddy. I made that choice; I like being that man. I love Braxton. Now I have women in my life, Carolina Bound, M Anime. I’m still pretending Lunalesca. Carolina Bound, of course, knows me better than anyone “Of Inner Demons.” Such a risk. As for others, first, there is the indifferent or those that see worthlessness. My Olds. Enemies, Lady Lu, my God, I understand why Offred AKA June was giving up… easier.

“Nolite te bastardes carborundorum,” ― Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale

As in Don’t let the bastards grind you down. I’m the worst one looking in the mirror instead of my kid’s eyes. I counted on Braxton. Give B A Hand

237 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 081 ~Yesterday Was The Easy Day~

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Sad but true, even before Braxton and worse without him. It’s sort of like that movie Office Space. Every day is the worst day of my life except for Emergence, Braxton’s last day, and the Day Job anniversary. Yesterday Was The Easy Day

Monday, September 20, 2021

Chronicle 081 ~Yesterday Was The Easy Day~

Two-Hundred And Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I won’t be writing at the dining room table tomorrow. I’ll be busy with humiliation.

If there’s anything to hope for while I Time Travel today, it’s this. No, not that I’ll see a fur baby at PetSmart Saturday. Today is the farthest from that, being Sunday, and I got another email about a puppy yesterday. Every day I’m farther away from B III, dammit. Um, excuse me, Madam, I need that pain. As I was trying to say, I can only hope I’ve seen the worst humiliations this world has had to offer. Only I know I haven’t. If I were smart, I would be in bed right now, soaking in whatever energy, comfort, peace to be found, yep. Despite all I have done today, the only fact is that Monday will be worse. Dare I become a prophet?

A Realist. As I said before, it will be 232 days without my son when you see this, dear Madam. It doesn’t get easier. I still have yet to see one where I wasn’t crying about him. I’d take that over living like this. It’s a horrible thought to think that Braxton was the lucky one. It should have been me. I’ve said it before that 2020 and being 36 was a cakewalk, piece of cake and easy as pie compared to the moment right now. Let’s look at today, Sunday. Besides talking to you, I got dinner started early. I worked on “Stuff and Thangs.” Madam, I took a shower. I even changed my mind between reading The Handmaid’s Tale and The Red Collar.

Compared to tomorrow or today, whatever. Madam, this whole week is going to suck. Yes, every day will be worse than the last. Braxton’s not here to lie to anymore. I only speak the truth to myself, and when it comes to the day job… I know I didn’t say Another…

“There’s too many men, too many people, making too many problems.”

My fucking Republican tendencies. They want more people until they’re born. More, unless their immigrants. Yes, more unless they have brains. People make the days harder, that is true.

“If anything, I am an equal opportunity misanthropist.” ― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle.

I think that’s it… I hate days more than the people. Hating myself the most because Yesterday Was The Easy Day.

232 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 080 ~Go B, Go Home~

WillLeave a comment

All The Small Things or The Little Things, let me stop myself before I make another playlist. There’s always so little time; my son, who was 15, will always be my baby boy. Not to mention I feel like a speck or a peck, eh Willow. “Go B, Go Home”

Sunday, September 19, 2021

Chronicle 080 ~Go B, Go Home~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but what’s in your wallet? Using a credit card slogan? It must be early. Only 5:50 AM.

Braxton was big on life. All he needed was but a sliver of light, and it was time to go walking. Breakfast is to be served uh… well you know the word you want to use. (Damn Hemingway App)! Anyway, there was a yard that needed protecting. Braxton was home. Nowadays, and yes, I know your week is only beginning. Here’s a quick note, what is it with the word “only?” You know, if you use any other word ending in the last two letters, you get dinged. Speaking of the bumps, bruises, and battery, it’s the little things, right? Hell, I was annoyed yesterday for a lot of things. The smallest ones being there were no itty-bitty dogs at PetSmart. Oh, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus 6 (Devil In The Deep Blue Sea)
    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 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Why would petting another fur baby make this list? I also mentioned the word Acceptance. That word is “humongous” to you. Again must please Ol’ Massa Hemingway because a tiny synonym would get flagged. Are you editing Gulp this week? See, this is what you’re thinking about. All these bits and pieces of your life and trying to put them all together. It’s so much easier not to imagine life. That right there is a thought. You’ve been here so many years, and that’s the idea that will get you into a world of shit. This morning you had a brilliant line for a girl, but of course, she would assume the worst.

“You are my sun, my moon, my starlit sky,” ― Willow (1988)

Were you listening to me, Neo? Or were you looking at the woman in the red dress? ― The Matrix (1999)

So I guess you’re saving the best for last, eh? Try and finish a thought, okay? This chick was wearing a black dress with celestial bodies all over it. No love, no flirting: cuteness. Hell, all your love is still for B III, who was worth a million girls. To imagine such love from something and for something so little, my wee puppy. Um, what were you doing before having this talk with the mirror? Right, you were in front of your camera… Onlyfans. Nope, there is no advice for that. B is for breathing. Go B, Go Home, sigh. Do Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, The Handmaid’s Tale
  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 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

231 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will