Tag: Tears

Chronicle 098 ~B STUPID THEY Say~

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Hey STUPID, Slave, Sucker, so a day at work when I rather stay home with my dog, my best friend, my son but oh wait. When he was dying, I was working; the day after, I sat with him as he crossed the Rainbow Bridge; I worked. “B STUPID THEY Say,” yep.

Thursday, October 7, 2021

Chronicle 098 ~B STUPID THEY Say~

249 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Well, let me apologize for “that word.” How I hate “Hey STUPID, I Love You.”

But to quote another song, “I Feel Stupid.” Considering the 28th of January, when I didn’t know you were dying… I know I’m sorry, Baby B, it’s been a long day. Only am I talking about today or Monday? Why am I talking to you so early? By this time, I’d be in no mood. Oh, I’m STUPID THEY’D say for hating the Day Job denying a slave’s existence, mine. I’m STUPID for feeling bad about it like I failed in life. I let you down, B, all for them. There will never come some moment I won’t be reminded that this hatred killed you. Fuck I will never learn my lesson. This morning I came back and what Braxton; ate, slept, vented, ranted, whatever.

Because I can’t be STUPID, Braxton. At least I try not to be but of course, if you ask someone. One more thing I miss about having you here B III. There was no one to ask, and you already knew. I bet you’re glad I can’t lock you behind a gate someplace, hmm? Yeah, when your daddy is doing something STUPID like this morning. Hell, I would take that over what happened today, and I do mean Thur. It’s no use speculating. Humiliations Galore but at least this week was “successful.” Keeping the Day Job not killing anyone. Braxton, I’m not trying to be funny. In 2017 I wrote, “Lesson 050 A Comedian Died Today.” I killed you, B, my audience, 249 Days Ago.

The one love in my life who thought I could do better. I’m full of apologies, aren’t I B III? Oh, I say, you’re dead, I killed you, I know-how. But um, I’m a dumb criminal, yeah, B III. So why care what THEY say? That will always and forever make me louder, Braxton. Constantly I’m repeating reasons to love you and miss you. Braxton, you’re my quiet friend? Is that insanity? Am I being ironic? Now I know I’m not imagining things. I’ve talked about how the silence is killing me but only not fast enough. Why I’m still talking to you when I should be reading. A boy with an imaginary friend, believing in ghosts, zombies, succubi, me… Braxton, B STUPID THEY Say

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 097 ~Braxton Promises To Pray~

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With my paws, I promise to walk beside you. To stand against any and all who come against us. To let you know where I am. But don’t touch them. I hate when God or his servants attempt to force my hand too. But the Day Job? “Braxton Promises To Pray.”

Wednesday, October 6, 2021

Chronicle 097 ~Braxton Promises To Pray~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but that’s not enough to see one’s true paradise, the right person, or my puppy now.

Yet on this Sunday, writing about Wednesday, as I play prophet. The humiliations, Inspector Echo, are getting worse. A revelation I’ve had of late sigh. When I was constantly worrying about Braxton, as long as he was okay… Well, life was Hell, so I believed. Inspector, these days, whenever I pray for strength, guidance, will. I always direct those whispers towards Braxton. Except for the Day Job. I continue to pop my wrists with a rubber band when I allow fear to guide my steps. Surprised my hands remain, Inspector. With all the work I’ve been doing today. Is that what I call it, talking to the Man in the Mirror. I was talking about a wedding band. Then my time out of the shower.

“Stuff And Thangs?” What I wouldn’t give to see a few $100’s, some $1,000’s appear in my wallet. B III wouldn’t understand money but anything that stopped me from leaving. I’m far less ashamed of being naked than whatever I’ve been doing this week. Hell, this Wednesday cannot be worse than the “Wednesday.” I remember B crying. As for me? You know I have never liked the terms owner, master, and the like. Someone wrote that dogs think they’re people; cats believe they are gods. Or even dogs think people are gods. Braxton never asked me to save him, only to hold him and bring him home. I couldn’t even do that. At least not in the way he wanted anymore. I wonder what B believed in. In me alone?

Braxton was blessed with paws, not hands, and he didn’t appreciate me touching them. Braxton is supposed to be beside me at times like these. These hands for petting Braxton. Inspector, I am ashamed I can’t do that anymore. Doesn’t that make today seem better? How I like to think Braxton was/is optimistic. At least he was/is good at pretending. Daddy needs only to return, and regardless of what happened, he would make it better. Echo, I gave him a treat before I left as I can’t stand lies, even for the love of Braxton. I still pray for him whenever I go. Does he watch over me? Even when I was no longer a monk. Doing whatever Day Job wise. Braxton Promises To Pray

248 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 091 ~To Be Patient B~

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Be patient, and I will find a cure, acceptance, salvation, forgetfulness, whatever. Yep, ASM, I still say whatever. I’m a sick puppy, or I had a sick puppy 242 Days ago. And now I’m insane in the membrane, as we said once? To Be Patient B.

Thursday, September 30, 2021

Chronicle 091 ~To Be Patient B~

242 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine is only beginning, and I’m already sick of it. Give me five more minutes.

Patient Daddy, but I’d be lying if I said I was sick like that. You saw me through the first year of COVID; I haven’t lost anyone because of it. I lost you this year, fucking insane. I’m glad you can’t repeat the things I say. Ain’t that a question. Can dogs talk in Heaven? Will I ever get to see you, B III? Hell, I’m making a mess over one of your would-be moms. Tell Millie “Sup” if you get a chance. I’m sure the last thing you want to do is spend all day in bed like your Old Man. I’m sick of feeling this way. I’m not talking about missing you; I mean being lazy. I got a good seven hours and still went back to sleep.

Patient B, that’s something I would never call you. If I brought fries home, you would be a real pain in the ass. No wonder I’m trying to exorcise you. Told you I’m sick, Braxton. While I was busy not telling you that B III, let’s see. Um, I did icky things I wouldn’t let you see. I got my affairs in order, but I’m not dead yet. Then comes the food I can’t share, B. I told you before about choosing Onion Rings vs. Fries, hmm? How about Chocolate vs. Sour Gummies? Here I worried about those things killing you, but it was hatred. Hatred is a sickness, but is patience a real virtue?

Patience in wanting to join you? I haven’t seen your grandpa in a minute; the Day Job only brings me more hate. I hate myself, sorry? B, now you weren’t a cure but a medication. Sometimes you could be distracting, but considering the work, I got done with you around. Hell, my last novel is most of these letters and the one before… Zombified daddy. The more I sleep, the less I think about a more permanent solution. Considering the books get busy living and B, you know the rest. You had so much more living to do, my friend. I failed you in that. Is love the cure for hate? More like warring with myself, and what have I created? Your book, for love, NaNoWriMo? To Be Patient B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 090 ~2B Or Not To~

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A great man once wrote, to be or not to be. I’m nowhere near, not even good, and who would ever think I’m alright? Carolina Bound or M Anime? I do worry what B III thinks of me, wherever he is now. 2B Or Not To

Wednesday, September 29, 2021

Chronicle 090 ~2B Or Not To~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. That’s like saying Braxton is alive. I own a brothel, and I’m married to NieR’s 2B.

Carla Valenti

We’ll get into that soon enough. Forgive me, Inspector Echo, for I have sinned. If I hadn’t given you Carla Valenti’s form from Indigo Prophecy, you would be a nun. I had a thing for holy women once “ahem” do (M Anime). Anyway, I should try to regain my holiness. But I have the spirit of fear when it comes to tagging up the shoes at my fucking Day Job. I refuse to speak my mind there. Anytime I find myself lying, that’s only Acceptance. Yesterday the Stupidity I showed was libel to get someone hurt, and I was corrected. Inspector, I find myself breaking Rule 002 You Are Not A Caveman. What’s Rule 001? Dammit, these may not seem like violations but killing Braxton…

If anything, that is the one crime I know I will never surpass. As always, Braxton remains the constant. So what took me so long getting back to you, considering it is now 9:40 AM? Routine, Tradition, the Usual, another day? I would have gotten up because of B III. Braxton would take his medication first because the meds made him into a fire hydrant. Then we would walk. Depending on my laziness, we would eat breakfast, Braxton and me. Today, there was his water and his treat in Remembrance. I fixed a Pop-Tart and a cappuccino. Oh yeah, then I had to get all sorts of crazy ideas for “Stuff And Thangs.” Of course, you know how that goes. I wouldn’t have dared before.

When I’m not Braxton’s Daddy, who am I? The people at Petsmart have stopped offering. I pet fur babies, but I can’t bring one home. To be a Dad again because I’m no model, ha. I don’t want to be, Inspector, you know. I woke up at 4:00 AM and shut my eyes. It hurts. Dangerous thoughts, but then there are moments. There are always several for B, my son. There are productive times. Not that I’m counting today sitting in bed or kitchen nakedness. I’ve been saying it, sitting in the Den with the door closed, believing Braxton’s back? Inspector, he wouldn’t be happy with me, slacking off reading. None of it’s Shakespeare but better than Playboy. Awake and Alive? 2B Or Not To

241 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 084 ~Reasons To Fry B~

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I have a vegan/vegetarian friend here or there. B III’s Aunt calls me a true Carnivore; this isn’t that type of conversation. As I stuffed my face yesterday with fries, and will do so again. I remember why there are more than usual. Reasons To Fry B.

Thursday, September 23, 2021

Chronicle 084 ~Reasons To Fry B~

235 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day is only starting, and it’s not because some chick is good mommy material.

I’m sorry, Braxton. We are boys, but I tried to keep that kind of talk away from you. I remember you and your Aunt and how you and I had “The Talk.” Be good, Daddy. Braxton, I don’t think I was. It’s obvious why you’re not here. I’ll never forget why you aren’t ok. So as the Terminator said, “I killed you.” And I didn’t put you, my son, first. Hell, if I was ever up this early, and I wasn’t going into the Day Job, you’d be up like the sun. I noticed that as I was making the bed. Second straight day and I decided to, B III. Usually, I would let you sleep longer B while I went to take a shower.

Is the water hot enough, or am I dreaming up new reasons I’m getting into Hell? As I said, it wasn’t a woman that got me up. I made an accidental discovery yesterday, so fuck. Well, at least it’s only me. And not some indigenous people, the day job (fuck that, BTW), or women. Well, in the instance of reading The Handmaid’s Tale, again trying. Braxton, I finished reading a good portion last night instead of talking to you. We’ll have to continue this conversation later this afternoon. Of course, I’ll bring fries home, Braxton. Did you see I’m saying your name more? I still say it every day with medicine in hand, saying goodbye, and walking in. Whenever I slip up, oh, the pain.

Take yesterday’s first humiliation as an example. I was walking up to the Day Job, and I literally almost slipped and fell, rain and all. Bark at Earnest Hemmingway, Braxton. What right do I have to ask you to do anything for me? Would you stand up to God if I had fallen and broken my neck? You could be saving me a nice warm spot by the fire, ha. Oh yeah, my Treachery, which of course, is a Ninth Circle trespass. Whether it’s something like buying onion rings B III. How about petting a warm doggie at the store? Being with you like this, but I want to be back beneath the covers sleeping. Explains some of my dreams. My Reasons To Fry B.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 083 ~I’ll B Home Later~

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Today’s pride will be tomorrow’s humiliations. Hell, I was in a good mood, so I had to time travel. Will Wednesday (today, tomorrow, whenever) feel like this. Doubtful, I’m not that lucky with women, and B never met his step-mom. “I’ll B Home Later.”

Wednesday, September 22, 2021

Chronicle 083 ~I’ll B Home Later~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I must have good clocks. I don’t think I’ll ever want to own a Rolex.

Now while I can get into my fondest for digital watches. How about the “Humiliations Galore,” at the Day Job. Hell, today B would have got a reprieve. You’ll be surprised what a pretty girl in a “virgin killer sweater” can make you forget. A nap, books, um NXT hmm? It’s why I’m talking to you so late, Inspector Echo? What do I mean, considering it’s Tuesday night? I’ve woken up pretty damn early the past two days trying to make a better life. Then after the Day Job and my binge of fast food. I’m KO’ed for hours, SIGH. Braxton would be proud, I mean it. Chicken and Fries, and as for that nap today? Um, ahem, I make them “Good Girls Go Bad.”

That’s why things like OnlyFans don’t frighten me. Echo, I’m naked every day in these words. I write some pretty horrible things in novels, poetry, more. Oh, and here’s a note, Hemingway will ding me using the word “pretty” four times now, Inspector? Anyway, the Day Job fucks me over. If I’m going to show all, be embarrassed, or have someone laugh at me, I can do that from the comfort of “my” bed. Sure, I might have locked up B III more, but I think he would prefer that to death taking him. Day 234 and it’s difficult Echo. You know that A-Word I’ve been kicking around, Acceptance. It’s not, even if I acknowledge the Day Job is a much worse place than here.

I’m sure June would disagree in The Handmaid’s Tale, you think. I let myself down by not reading enough today. I can’t help feeling I’m letting the Day Job down, like a pornstar that can’t get it up. I let Braxton down by working all the time and then sleeping. THEY say home is where the heart is. Dangerous thoughts Inspector but I would never. All the things I’ll never do. But I’m never late when it comes to the things I hate. Unless a pair of nice Yabbos were involved. I told Braxton I’d bring him a mother. Inspector, today there were good vibes, French fries, and I didn’t want to die. B III wouldn’t have minded, “I’ll be back.” I’ll B Home Later

234 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 079 ~What Comes NECK B~

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*GULP*, I’m surprised I didn’t mention the poetry book that still sits before my eyes on my screen. Hell, I paid those people what, two or three years ago, and I haven’t sent them anything. I’ve been up to my neck in… whatever. What Comes NECK B

Saturday, September 18, 2021

Chronicle 079 ~What Comes NECK B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could get my neck checked out. I should get my eyes examined too.

Only what excuse comes next? It’s 5:50 AM, so of course, I’m pissed. I’m trying to aim for 4:00, and Braxton would think, am I crazy. My neck hurts; she’s not so pretty, there’s time. No, there isn’t. That’s what this neck pain is smarting as I can’t remember, dreaming. There’s one more excuse; let me see how I was sleeping wrong in the dark so I can fix it. Don’t they usually put a bag over your head before they execute you? Or am I living in a world where it is better not to look? Lunalesca, I continue going on about novels today. I’m still thinking about The Handmaid’s Tale. I finished reading my current book, and I saw Blindness by José Saramago.

All these things Lady Luna. If I wasn’t being so selfish again, I could worry about the rest of the world or my country at least. You know how I hate sounding like a Republican but “Hang Mike Pence!” Should I say anything about Trump, seeing he’s not president now? Using the words “hurt” and “myself” is dangerous business, and I’m not Johnny Cash. Only I will be hurt as I go to look at the fur babies today. Have I arrived at Acceptance? Fuck no, never Lu, but a new circle. I look at dogs, I go to Walmart, and then there are tacos. It’s my routine for Saturday. Betray my son, relive a car accident, and my humiliations at BWW over and over.

It’s all my fault, Lady Lu. I’m not blaming anybody else for being thirty-seven and living this way. That’s one more fact. I’m getting older, and that is why my neck hurts? It could be the fact that I haven’t gotten what I deserve. Believe me, it’s nothing good, Lunalesca. Seeing as I’m not having sex anytime soon, the neck is overlooked. Gulping in terror. There’s that fancy meal I was supposed to have on Emergence but wasn’t that awesome. Luna, I am what I am. I deserve a noose but to quote Stephen King, God is Cruel, I know. I live choking on words, wanting to puke my guts out, eating “good,” going broke. Routine Luna, to imagine what’s next. What Comes NECK B

230 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 077 ~B A Good Book~

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“My Turn To B III” is a book I wrote that nobody’s seen. Hell, I haven’t looked at it in months. I know what I want to read across these pages, but the last thing I need is cops. I’m a black man told not to cry but without B’s fur. B A Good Book

Thursday, September 16, 2021

Chronicle 077 ~B A Good Book~

228 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Except for sitting on my ass in bed, today isn’t looking any better than yesterday.

God or instead, Dog, Braxton, I wish you were here today. Let me play the Republican right now and act like people don’t have Google or any type of search engine. September is National “blah” Prevention Month. Makes sense with it being my Emergence, right? Once I saw this book “On The Night You Were Born.” I didn’t say I read it; I flipped through a few pages. Um yeah, I got the gist. Hell, on the night I was born, I’m sure my Olds broke out into “That’s How You Know You Fucked Up.” The night you were born B? Well more like the night I saw you being carried into my world. Hell, I’ve already written four books, three as fiction, one biographical

You know a little “Mexican” college student who had a thing for tye-dye hoodies and was adopted. Is That Racist? As I said, I’m playing Republican trying to ignore the things I don’t like. The two worst being that you’re gone and myself. B, I picked up a lifeline card. No worries. The last time I talked to those people, my Olds kicked me out. I ended up living out of a one-room hellhole for around three months without you. What was the lesson? If I was going to do “something,” as Morgan Freeman says, “Go on and do it EXPEDITIOUSLY!” Hell, like everything else in life, I’m a lazy ass. It’s a bad habit that you picked up on. I’d read, and you’d sleep.

Then again, you knew how to live a good life. You knew how to be a best friend, a brother, the boy I would call my son. Even when you were running a brothel in my stories, you didn’t partake. You had a wife, children of your own. All the perverted shit is your Old Man. That’s all me. Of course, the story freaked Cherry out, and why wouldn’t it? I don’t know if I sent it to your Aunt. M Anime would go running for the hills. Publishing it? One of the reasons I’m still alive. You know what I want to say but don’t need the cops at the door. How to B You; a book I should read. B A Good Book

Always and Forever,
Your Dad