Tag: Tears

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

Chronicle 268 ~Ode To B Yesterday~

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I know who The Beetles are, but that was way before my time. Yesterday I was nowhere near. I have had 418 yesterdays without my boy, and I’m looking forward to this 419th one being over. I won’t be anyway near as productive. “Ode To B Yesterday”

Saturday, March 26, 2022

Chronicle 268 ~Ode To B Yesterday~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which should give me plenty to write about. Don’t worry, though. None of it is poetry.

In fact, I was telling Braxton yesterday (via Time Travel) I should publish “Gulp” poetry. Oh, before his book? If I was a better man going on some 419 days, I wouldn’t have to yet. I swear my tears over my son are always better than those for having to wake up in the morning. My piddly ass existence. Already, today will be nowhere as productive. And as for next week… Even today, I can’t pick out any day ending in Y that I look forward to, Lady Lunalesca. But not one of them can be “Another Day,” ever. That wanting, laziness, and indifference led to my son’s death over a year ago. Hell 419 days of not joining him. And I should, Lady Lu.

But I get up, and instead of working in the den. It’s where I planted all my stuff. Even better, yesterday when I made it to the dining room. No, I climb right back into bed, struggling. The thoughts are creeping in that I should stay here today. It’s not like the “Rebeccas” would miss me. My last paycheck means I’ll be eating into my tax refund more. There’s always more soup and pizza rolls. I can scrounge up one more BLT minus the “T,” ha. And as for “Spilling the Tea,” as THEY say, I know this is all my fault. You would think that my hatred for the Day Job. Which led to the indifference which killed B. I’d work harder than ever.

I don’t mean at the Day Job but at doing anything in my power to avoid ever stepping foot inside that place again. All my yesterdays add up to the tomorrow of being in that Hell. Unless I get lucky enough to drop dead. I’ve been speaking of doctors, hmm. How about publishers, like the one I paid years ago to do nothing. Writing failure. Lunalesca, I haven’t sent them the final copy, so again my fault. I’m constantly failing. In truth, it’s a fact I’m not closing. I look at women and every other want, but you know what pains me? Seeing the words I wrote go to waste like yesterday. And no, I’m not like the Beetles. Yesterday, whatever. Ode To B Yesterday.

Gospel 268 ~B Hold A Dream~

419 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 266 ~It’s To Be War~

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My boy’s fighter. B III, be free, beefy… he had a lot of it with anybody. Most days to protect me, and I would fight for him too. When it mattered the most, then where was I? I didn’t have to fight to stay awake when he lay here dying. It’s To Be War

Thursday, March 24, 2022

Chronicle 266 ~It’s To Be War~

417 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how my day has only begun… Please, I’ll be back asleep before 8:00.

Not everyone has such “luxury” Braxton. People are fighting for their lives at this very moment. Are you worried I’m about to go off on one of my political rants? When’s the last time I had one of those? If I did, I’d only be talking to myself now. Insanity? Braxton, I’m going crazy without you. Well, crazier if that were possible. But what’s war? Okay, so I am about to have some rant… But believe me, B, I have tried to avoid it. You saw me through the first year of the “plague.” The second year, you were taken from me, my boy. Now between the GOP/GQP, watching Ketanji Brown Jackson and the war in Ukraine. Hell, no wonder I listen to Sucubuss Lord.

It’s the war in Ukraine; B that fell into my dreams. I doubt I have the strength to write a full-blown post on the vision, but I do want to sum up as I would with us lying here (sigh). It was the first dream that I’ve seen you in a long while. I wonder why that is? Always thinking with my “Stuff & Thangs.” Didn’t we both? Like father like son, right? So a few nights ago, I saw you barking around some guy getting ready to go to the frontlines. I didn’t recognize him, but I knew where he was headed (green t-shirt). I was in a dark bedroom. All I wanted was for you to come to lie with me and sleep.

What does the dream mean? As I asked, what are the chances that I’ll write a synopsis of the whole thing? I’m fighting as is to stay awake right now. Did you see me yesterday? Braxton, I should be ashamed. Of course, there are obvious reasons. 417 days since I took the life of my only ally. 24 days of keeping it in my pants. The biggest battle Braxton. Again people are fighting and dying. A woman is torn apart who’s like your grandma. Braxton, I watched you fight for every single second of your life. What’s war, Braxton? Today it ain’t me trying to stay awake, beating the clock, or something else… What am I fighting for B III? If It’s To Be War.

Gospel 266 ~B III Of Numbers~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 265 ~These Words By Embarrassment~

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“How Embarrassing” The books I read, the ones I listen to. The emails and all the wasted money to do nothing? I’d join the GOP, but they burn books, a-holes. I want to read; I want to create. B waited as long as he could. These Words By Embarrassment

Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Chronicle 265 ~These Words By Embarrassment~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but only with books, sex, and… I need another sin. My father thought reading… a vice.

How about repeating myself over and over? It’s what happens with time travel Echo, ok? Monday, March 14, 2022, is a much better day than anything now, um humiliations galore. But speaking of said shames to endure, what about the stupidity of my current ideas. Inspector, what book am I reading right now? I’m pretty sure it will be something on dogs. On the 14th, I’ve read a total of 13 books, all on pets. Now my premise is this. If I stop reading about dead furries, I’m somehow disloyal to Braxton. Inspector, I read 58 books last year, and that’s with Triple B’s death. 5 about grief, 2 more novels, 1 with a dead son. And now, Inspector, what about Audible? Succubus Lord Collection.

That brings us to our sex portion of the program. Again Inspector, playing on repeat. Didn’t I say before, I wanted to avoid any actions that, let’s say, “stimulated life?” Inevitable right being who I am? I swear there are days I miss, “Dirty Diana?” No, she’s never coming back. Every day is different, and Thursdays are for my son, for B III, so ok. So, of course, you may be wondering why I have become more “outspoken” as of late, Inspector. I’m going back to that 161 days I kept it in my pants. I wonder, am I still holding out now? Anyway, the longer it goes, the more noise I make. No time for Triple B when I have Triple X. These words.

How about my words, where the Hell is B III’s book My Turn To B III? There is also Gulp. How embarrassing it is to have made an investment with one company on the one hand. I’ve also got a publishing company. I need to pay one, and I sit on my ass doing nothing? Even today, as soon as I finish, I’m going right back to sleep. Haven’t left the bed for anything but nursing a sickness. Of course, by the time you read this, well, why do we talk so damn early? Because I would instead stay a slave and be nowhere near the man that B thought. All words and no action. Taking embarrassment to heart but Braxton? These Words By Embarrassment.

Gospel 265 ~Hair of the Braxton~

416 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will