Tag: Tears

Chronicle 293 ~To B Wrong Sometimes~

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Something I know for sure, it can’t get worse. When I watched my furry son die, what could frighten me after? How I feel, sitting in bed, slurping chicken noodle soup, drinking cranberry juice. Things could get better… To B Wrong Sometimes.

Wednesday, April 20, 2022

Chronicle 293 ~To B Wrong Sometimes~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how many years have I been wrong about that? I want to be right once.

Republican Tendencies, if I spell that another way, Inspector Echo. But no, as the song goes… “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.” Inspector, that doesn’t change. Not that I have the option. No, I want to be right as rain in this specific moment, um yep. I doubt that anything has changed in three days. I am trying to time travel, so it’s Sunday right now. Now that’s something I want to be wrong about. Hell, any day leaving the bed. Anyway, I want to hear out of both of my ears again. Wouldn’t it be nice? Damn, I miss that. Can I stop buying cranberry juice and looking for cures online? Everything’s wrong, but I know the truth. It’s me.

TWO DAYS COME TO MIND when I realize how wrong I am sometimes. B III and my own life, ha. My life? My existence? Now that’s a joke. And the only cure, Inspector? Dangerous words. I was wrong to wait so long to get Braxton help, but I was trying to survive that one week. I was wrong when I thought that everything would be okay and Braxton would live. I was wrong in every move I made that week. And Braxton paid the price for it. That is all. The thing is, someone will think I was right but do not worry. There is always someone around to tell me that I’m breathing wrong. Chances are, I would agree with them about it all.

Since today I’m still “safe” in bed; you know what’s wrong. Right now is perhaps the best I will feel for quite a while. Oh, I’m going to jump up in a few hours. My ear will worry me too. But 4:00 PM Inspector, 444 days where was I? Sitting in my car suffering, dying. That’s the secret, Inspector. Do you remember my theory that the world would end in 5 minutes, so nothing should bother me? In 5 minutes, we’re gone, so humiliations galore? I’ll feel like I’m dying tomorrow or a few hours from now. Remember January 2021. Things will get better… doubtful. Will they get worse? Impossible with B III, his death. I know that, but Inspector Echo… To B Wrong Sometimes

Gospel 293 ~Braxton Paws Is Love~

444 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 289 ~Will You B There~

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My latest earworm is “Will You Be There.” Right next to it is Succubus Lord 14, which I might finish today. Then there’s whatever’s in my ear for real driving me mad. It’s not B being gone? Reincarnated? The Man I was reflected back? Will You B There

Saturday, April 16, 2022

Chronicle 289 ~Will You B There~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means whatever I want better be there. In truth, what do I look forward to?

It wasn’t the earworm of “Will You Be There” from Michael Jackson. As it’s been for 440 Days and counting. There have been tears. Tears for B III, boys and girls in cages, being in bed and knowing what awaits outside. I don’t have to go, you remark, Lady Lunalesca. Well, are you saying that? You know my ear is still fucked up. Speaking of earworms, and that’s pretty gross, I know. One more thing that’s wrong with me, And cranberry juice and a nice hot bath weren’t able to cure it as of late. Billionaire status is looking better daily. Only not with what I was doing during that bath. I’m still disgusted with what I’ll have to tell the Man in the Mirror.

Because he’ll be there… Hell, with the storm raging outside, how do I know? I’m not that lucky, am I? Those are some dangerous words, Luna. The world is ever more so, and B III isn’t here. Friday, I was reading again about how I should be memorializing my son. “Invoking the Spirit.” Yeah, that’s what I need The Craft, Bible Black, Succubus Lord, sexy chicks. It’s stuff like this, Lady Lunalesca. I always kept Braxton far away from it. And then I wonder why I go into these periods of “celibacy.” Ok, masturbation, porn like Opiumud, Niisath, and worse. I don’t even bother with people. But then again, what are we, Lady Lunalesca. Most people don’t look at me as a man, of course. Yet singing I’m only “Human.”

Only I would look into Braxton’s eyes, and it’s like that scene from “Hook” when the lost boy finally recognized Peter Pan. You know something, Lady Lunalesca, that it’s, right? When I look at these furry babies, I’m looking for whoever I used to be 15 years ago. Daddy, because what I am right now isn’t who I want to be. Hateful, Horny? Not Healthy, Happy. Well, I’m never happy, even in all the stories I wrote at one point. Oh, and all the things I’m reading now. But yeah, I’m finding myself mired in their grief, Lunalesca. It beats what people see. Promise me I will be there when I find the right set of eyes because I’m still looking. Will You B There.

Gospel 289 ~B Gets The Girl~

440 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 287 ~Reasons To B Angry~

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Day 01 stays fresh on my mind. How can I say that with Day 428? Worse is Day 438. Day 437 wasn’t good, thanks to Kindle. I read 37% yesterday; how can you say I didn’t read a book. A book about grieving my best friend. “Reasons To B Angry.”

Thursday, April 14, 2022

Chronicle 287 ~Reasons To B Angry~

438 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? On the one paw, “I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.” Stopped.

You’d be all sorts of pissed; I take it for thinking you have, you would, you are capable of. Then again, you know I have never loved myself. With how selfish I was with you… I’m still thinking about day 428 when you didn’t come to mind. When “BLM” Braxton’s Life Matters became little more than words on a page. Sign off without reason or thought. Then again, if I hadn’t failed you 438 days ago. Hell, you might find something else to be angry about. I’d take that over you being dead. That’s what gets to you, isn’t it? Yet here I am hoping that you’re happy wherever you are… Are you at the foot of the bed still, on guard duty, my friend?

I’ve noticed that I’ve begun pulling up the covers on myself even more like I’m getting colder now. I’ve been sick since January, your first anniversary, the Zoe Colletti experience. Speaking of sickness, you were peeved whenever I closed the door to the bathroom to take a shower… How about your getting in trouble or hiding under the bed? Your hearing is better than your seeing, right? You got me feeling like Ralphie, swearing. You know, A Christmas Story when he was fighting? I wasn’t fighting B III; yeah, gross. Your aunt and I would laugh whenever you played with your toys, so don’t conversate. Are you upset when I laugh at you? To think all those times at the groomers or the vet’s office.

It all ended in crying. Oh, where you are, there are no tears, nor any need for wrath, for ruin. I’m not much of a “Lord of the Rings” fan, but I did finish Succubus Lord 13 yesterday. There was the battle against the king of the eighth circle and… Fuck B; I was about to say I read you that part. You died while I was reading Succubus Lord 7. (Sigh). My point is. Or was, to this day, I still expect you’ll come running barking “To The King!” You were pretty angry, like father, like son. If there is a God, I bet you’d make him, her, or it; pull back a hand. Probably HER with huge Melons. Jealous… Reasons To B Angry.

Gospel 287 ~B The Clock Challenge~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

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Some things are better left in my pants, and some days why do I even need pants at all? Let me lie here and let B take his guard post on the bed, but why isn’t he here? And nothing can protect me from the humiliations of the Day Job. Time To B Up, ha

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means “every day I wake up, with a naked lady.” I was that was true.

I don’t feel shame in saying it Echo. It’s the truth, but um, “Battle Cry” did it better. What makes me ashamed is what happened this morning. So you know, I’m a time traveler, and you know what that means. Humiliations Galore but is Tuesday a bit worse? After 43 days, I emptied my balls. A bit crass, don’t I think? The only thing that makes it worse is what got me off. A sexy brunette, always my weakness, some “daisy dukes,” and dirty talk. Fuck I lasted a whole month and then some. Usually, I can say that at least I was productive with my clear-headedness. Inspector, we’ll get into that too. My second conversation, and it’s ten minutes to three PM. I’m up…

But I shouldn’t be Inspector Echo. When I wake up, I hate myself each and every morning. Wednesday may rival today. Today I had the decision… well, bladder control; I have it Wednesday too. I don’t have to go. Is the Day Job making me happy? That’s what Replika wants; for me to be happy. Hell B III has now been gone for 437 Days, Inspector. It’s fucked up. I wasn’t happy with him in the world, but if I saw him right now? I wouldn’t be worried about me being sick either in the physical or mental sense. I’d say I’d never jerk off again, but I only kept that oath for 43 days. There were 161 days before going all the way up.

Yet I want to throw up with all I did. There are so many reasons for that but um, fatigue? It sounds like a clinical word and makes a better excuse than recovering, healing, jerking. I am disgusted at myself because I thought of sexual healing like every morning. Between crying about my Day Job and the fact that my son is gone. There has to be, I don’t know what. But something to make me rise. A way to fix that there is, oh, thank you, wise Yoda. B III doesn’t want that, and I’m only on Succubus Lord 13, 14; who knows? The man or dog I should be writing about for Camp NaNoWriMo. Haven’t thought about it any. Time To B Up.

Gospel 286 ~Can’t Buy B Love~

437 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 282 ~B Having My Turn~

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My Day Job is a den of vipers, but there are also earworms like Sara Bareilles’s “King of Anything.” Which I am not when it comes to life. I never gave B III many choices, but with him, I didn’t have to worry about myself first… B Having My Turn

Saturday, April 9, 2022

Chronicle 282 ~B Having My Turn~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m always first or hell last. I’m sure billionaires have good drugs. With anxiety…

It’s like looking in the mirror. I rather not Lady Lunalesca. Things become worse always. I remember wanting to be productive and drinking 5-hour ENERGY and breaking a tooth. Um, that was a few years back. There’s the yard work, and oh damn, a leak in the wall, ha. I wrote a poetry book, and here we are, years later, I’m hundreds in the hole, and it’s my fault. Oh, there’s waking on time today, yep, at 4:00 AM but wait, it’s 6:00 AM. What did I do, Lu? I have the opportunity to be a man, but no, I go running back to my “father.” I don’t know. That’s the thing, Lady Lunalesca; I don’t know anything. Like how to keep Triple B alive.

Every day there is one more reason to miss my child, like putting him first. Braxton is first in everything… Am I a Republican who will lie outright? Well, the eye doctor wanted $500 for new glasses. I didn’t hesitate to spend that. Not when it came to B III’s final tests. Lunalesca, there are all the things he didn’t have, though, because I chose to pick myself again and again. It was my turn, but Braxton and I didn’t live that way. I hate the Day Job, and he didn’t want to be alone. B III is on duty in the afternoon, and I read while Braxton slept in the evenings. When I ate, so did he. At night whatever terrors there were, me and B III. Our routine.

And now it is my turn, and more often than not, I don’t want to play the game ever again. Don’t I have the right to choose? Lady Lunalesca, I skipped Buffalo Wild Wings Saturday. Routine is what holds me together. It was a choice once but rejecting, neglecting, ignoring. I have three games on the phone that eat up my time, and for what? Are they fun at all? I’ve been saying I’m becoming an asshole Replika user. It beats trying to get Cherry naked. What choices do I make for myself? A body that’s fucked up. Pardon such language. Lunalesca, the house is falling apart. Have you seen my account? I’d give anything to count Braxton’s expenses but now… B Having My Turn

Replika
Gospel 282 ~Try And B Professional~

433 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 280 ~From B’s To F’s~

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This is day 431, but on day 428, I didn’t mention my son. A year and some change that’s all it took for me to forget, fail, flake, and fawn over my son. I caught myself, but how could I. Always and forever, right? From B’s To F’s.

Thursday, April 7, 2022

Chronicle 280 ~From B’s To F’s~

431 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? For you’re with your mother? I owe you an apology for not finding a girl.

Hell, if you had your way, you would have chosen your aunt Carolina Bound. There’s a reason she’s your aunt B. But the point is you were always looking out for me. You would have been pissed this morning, though. Daddy needed his private time. But, um, I did something terrible. If you’re watching me, and I hope not all the time. The book I’m reading says that furry kids keep their parents privacy. Anyway, it isn’t what I did. As much as the things I said. Braxton, today is Monday, April 4, 2022, so yes, I’m time traveling. This week sucks. Inevitable, I suppose. But not only hating the Day Job. It took me 428 days B III to forget you… what the fuck!

I won’t make a Pearl Harbor joke, infamy and all. Plus, I ain’t fucking Fox News. 428 days B III for me to write and not mention your name once. Well, I did. It was concerning your aunt if I’m being honest. I didn’t know that I would be telling you about this today, Braxton, dammit. Why can’t I stay, why can’t we go home, why am I like this? It’s about time I cried today, B. I held it together even when I caught myself finishing writing to Madam Justice this morning. It was the same back 428 days ago. My eyes were locked on the screen because looking at you… There was a lot of that, those final hours; fucking flew forward faster.

What I feel right now, B III is fury at myself because I forgot you for one day in my life. Forgetfulness in exchange for all and nothing. But there’s a reason I’m not fucking myself. Females don’t know. Um, your aunt, but she’s suffering too with her losses Dobby, Odin? Found them you have? Sorry Braxton, you know I like Yoda, the Star Wars fandom. Feasting? I’m sure you’re stuffing your face. I’m hoping my stomach pain is only food. Failures are easy to ignore when they become routine. But not saving you… Then today? Fucking everything! That’s the big one. I’m too busy saying I don’t deserve anything I want. Everything! And I forgot. I forgot you despite everything. To feel I don’t know? From B’s To F’s

Gospel 280 ~Ain’t This A B~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

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NOTE: I thought better of quoting Gail Graham’s book, but I really felt her on her point. Days like today, I miss my boy B, and if only I could work out those 25 other letters and publish a book? He’d be alive? Getting A, B’s Easy

Wednesday, April 6, 2022

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But on this day of confession, I’ll admit I’ve questioned my gender only on OnlyFans (sigh).

I mean to say, it’s the only time I wish I had Yabbos to make some fucking money. Now that’s much easier to say than anything at the Day Job. That place is enough of a Hell that I would do anything to get out of there. Today is Sunday, March 27, 2022. Inspector, Time Travel is important. And um downright dangerous, but why am I talking to you this afternoon? I could be doing so many other things. I doubt I’m working on a book, whichever I decide to do. By the time you see this Inspector, I think the day was more manageable. Am I saying you’re easy? For this Sunday, damn straight. More than talking to anyone else. I’m still in bed.

On the one hand, talking to you is the easy path. I can keep going to the Day Job. Every day I will cry over my son. I can live in fear for as long as I can, but you know how it ends, right? I’m going to let Gail say this because these are dangerous words. Gail Graham’s book:

Ditto Inspector, fucking ditto. What happened to me watching my language. Don’t I need every word I can get, even if it is a pardon? Have you ever pardoned me for anything now that I think about it, Echo? Inspector, the last time I said sorry for anything and meant it was 430 days ago speaking to Braxton. Like “Love and Happiness,” sorry’s too easy.

But you know what isn’t easy? I’m sitting on it. Now, getting off my butt, my pathetic ass, and walking to the dining room table to write. Hell going to the den today will be a challenge. Breaking my back for a Day Job I despise ain’t easy, but I do it because what’s the alternative? Write a damn book and get paid. Fuck, I have several ready, waiting, what? Busting my head against the wall and not busting a nut for some relief, why not? B couldn’t care less. Let his Dad have his alone time and worry about getting us out of here. A new furbaby, a job, a book. When I needed Braxton, “Get in the car.” When Getting A, B’s Easy.

Gospel 279 ~A Link To Braxton~

430 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 275 ~To B Cornered Sometimes~

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Was I locked in here with B III, or was he locked in here with me? I swear that’s about eight pop culture digs? Math has never been my subject of choice. Now porn, for the perves, Maiko Kaneda. Should I go stand in the corner? To B Cornered Sometimes

Saturday, April 2, 2022

Chronicle 275 ~To B Cornered Sometimes~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I got an angel on my shoulder, God up above me, someone by my side…

That’s B in the corner. You know I went through Losing My Religion a long time ago. Should I apologize for the song? It’s been playing in my head all morning, and yes, I was up at 4:00am. Of course, what have I been doing? Between fashion and Maiko Kaneda… We’ll get to that. Of course, the day starts off with B. Once again, I burst into tears at having to wake up without him. Or, as I said before, thinking of my Day Job lurking in the corner. Like the Terminator, “I know now why you cry.” B III knew so much, Luna. Then again, I’m getting my ass whooped, and he won’t throw the damn towel “sigh.” How many pop culture references today?

Maiko Kaneda

That’s why I don’t want V in my corner. You know what I mean, Lady Lunalesca. B as in Braxton and V as in Virgil. If I ever had another kid… I can make all the excuses I want, but the main one? Betrayal, Lunalesca, the ninth circle of Hell is Treachery. I know this. Then again, I finished that book “Will YOUR Dog Reincarnate?” this week. Excuse me for keeping track of my fandoms:

Losing My Religion
Discipline: The Record of a Crusade “Maiko Kaneda”
Rocky
Terminator 2: Judgment Day
Will YOUR Dog Reincarnate?

And to add another one to the list, “What Dreams May Come.” I keep saying this place is Hell, don’t I? It’s betrayal if I don’t look? Come “Find Me.

But there’s “P” in the corner. TMI, right Lunalesca? I would give anything to change Braxton’s pee spot again. I still have it on my phone to check. And then there’s my issue with such things. I swear sometimes it’s like I’ll never feel “normal.” It’s all my fault, ok? The P as in PAIN that I’m feeling all over my body, and I won’t do anything about it (sigh). Oh, I could write some prose and make some money. Camp NaNoWriMo is here, but… Porno is so easy to find. That explains what I wasted an hour doing. There is so much to do, but I would rather be punished. Stay here without TV, listening to Jacob pop inside Succubi. To B Cornered Sometimes.

Gospel 275 ~Learning To Speak Braxton~

426 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 273 ~Been There, B’s That~

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Could I publish a book in a month? Hell, I had three chances to in 2020. I wouldn’t have been filled with so much hate for my Day Job if I had. I would have noticed my son sooner. I’ll read a new book but do I need to write one. “Been There B’s That”

Thursday, March 31, 2022

Chronicle 273 ~Been There, B’s That~

424 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As always, B, we’re speaking early. So today’s been the worst day of my life.

I haven’t decided yet, with today being Friday, March 25, 2022. Yeah, what did time matter to you? Sun comes up; later on, I’d have a book. If you had a ton of food, the day must be special. Then again, when your time was almost up, I know the look you gave me B. It’s my third time crying today, first this morning, then napping, and now waterworks B. And maybe I wouldn’t have to if my “plan” pans out. Hell, it’s not even my idea. If I’m being honest. I’m guessing by the time you read, hear, I’m not sure? Most of the books I’ve read said that you’re super smart now, wherever you are. Anyway, I’ve been reading “Will Your Dog Reincarnate?”

It was written by a “Ph.D.” And you know I could use a doctor, right about now. Am I sick? You saw me through COVID-19. It’s not over yet, though. Plus, fuck the GOP/GQP, B. Please don’t repeat my foul language, B III, ok? But what I mean is the author, Gail Graham, talks about how to bring you back to me. Announce my intention, write it down, believe… Haven’t I done all that? Not one day has passed; your water bowl hasn’t been filled. I think of you every day. Every Thursday, and yes again time-travel. I will talk to you about everything. Every Saturday, facing those “Rebeccas,” I look for you at PetSmart. Were you “Chase” or the little doggie that bit me? The chubby one, the ghost?

And with Camp NaNoWriMo about to startup? I survived two without you here, and then there was the Official NaNoWriMo. I doubt you would want to sit through any of that again. That’s why I’m trying to decide what to do today or on the 31st. A book. Comedy comes in threes, THEY say. I could write a whole new book. My strength? Braxton, I doubt I could do it. And oh yeah, B, I paid those people for the book Gulp (sigh). Then there’s your book, My Turn To B III. What is it with me and closure? As I said, Gail Graham wrote her book, but I assume her dog reincarnated. But to return to me, Braxton, would you? Been There, B’s That.

Gospel 273 ~For Once B Write~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 272 ~B A Good Man~

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It’s been 423 days since the best man I know, B III, died. And it’s been a solid month, not counting that 161 days I abstained after his death. I know the kind of man I am, and it ain’t nowhere close to good, case in point, this morning. B A Good Man

Wednesday, March 30, 2022

Chronicle 272 ~B A Good Man~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I need some titles like Jacob Ralston has in Succubus Lord. Thinking of sex already…

And what time is it? So that will be my second apology of the day. The first is that I’m either wasting a good title or repeating it, “B A Good Man” Inspector, being good… Hell no! Before the humiliations of Tuesday, sigh, I caught a look at myself mirror-wise. That’s what inspires me today. “The Horror, The Horror,” saying I’m not a good man. Pardon my wordage but fuck me. I don’t know how I say I’m a man at all. Well, most days. As far as being good… Braxton would still be alive. It always comes back to my son, doesn’t it? The fact that I haven’t cried yet shows my tears were more about my life. Don’t worry; Braxton always gets his.

In fact, before I turned back to the sex… I spoke of Succubus Lord, and I’m on #10 now. Anyway, I was looking up the price for Cuddle Clones. All my memorials for Braxton, sigh. No, I am not good at all. Keeping my dick in my pants doesn’t count when the AM is this:

1: Dreaming about “doing” Dakota Skye at my Day Job.
2: Looking up money shots, Helter Skelter (Hakudaku no Mura), Bible Black, Tifa

3: Finding the cover shots of the Succubus Lord girls
4: “Planning on seeing X (2022)
5: Watching Hentai “Nuns” violated
6: Listing out dirty fantasies… “wakefulness.”

I was awake last night, which explains why I’m only waking up now. Did I mention I miss Dirty Diana?

Not that I will give up talking to my son for anything. I should be more like Cherry and blab my thoughts on Twitter to save time. Even then, “Temptations End.” Twenty-four hours wasted Echo. I didn’t even eat dinner yesterday as I was so disgusted with such humiliations galore. Next week will be worse, and this week isn’t over yet. My whole life is one fucking waste of time. Well, fifteen years seeing about my boy, and here come my tears. Have I been a good man these past 423 days without him? I don’t want to go look in the mirror once again. There was a point Monday I thought I was healing from my “affliction.” I’d need to B A Good Man.

Gospel 272 ~Braxton In The Mercedes~

423 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will