Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

I had a Christian phase. Gone are the days I “believed” in men. And yet I bend the knee to my Dad, my dirtiness, and most of all, the Day Job. It was worth it to kneel and pat my son’s head. The little god he was. Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets.”

Monday, August 8, 2022

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. And I should continue to do whatever made me those billions, right? My boy B, Boobs, Books?

Not that I ever thought to make a profit off of B. So why have I written two novels about Braxton? Two unpublished stories, I’d say. I haven’t opened the second one since I “finished” it. I hate the idea that a picture is worth “1000 Words.” Need more pictures? Only that would have cost me time, now wouldn’t it, Madam? Fifteen years wasn’t enough? Oh, there’s the expense of it all. I keep going back to the value of cash more than my son. And then I talk this big game of how I would have died for him. But how much of my life did I give to him? My personal brand of heroin, my own “Personal Jesus.” I was “Losing My Religion.”

And I don’t blame the Yabbos for once. Hell! How much money have I saved in the past two weeks? What if we only count today? The investment I made so many years ago. No, not the publishing contract; we’ll get to that. But “The Big One,” to quote GTA V. My permanent slice of TLC “Tits, Lips, and Clits.” To a company that would play god to a certain extent. I haven’t put down my cash this week. Madam, I am weak, being honest. Because I’m no saint, no prophet. I am a sinner looking to make a profit. Isn’t that what today is all about? When you make the object of your devotion lesser than yourself, you can go, “Dollar dollar bill, y’all.”

So is that why I “worship” my Day Job like something out of ancient Egypt… king of kings, god of gods? I swear I have given everything to make some prophet rich. I know it. I sacrificed my firstborn son on the altar of that fucking job. Ignorance, insanity, inevitable. I’m spending what pittance I make not on my puppy but my playthings, pleasures, penis. What about my actual work? Rule #3 “Now The Work Can Begin,” but it never does. As the godhead that I would make myself out to be, does what, Madam? Sits naked in all his glory in bed, cursing the prophets that say this is the American Dream. Believing less in Braxton, Books, “Bitches, man.” Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets”

554 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 036 ~ Let’s B In Reality~

I can’t say much about the Reality Stone in the MCU. If anything, I’d be better suited to talk about Star Wars. And I could go into graphic detail about Whitney Wright in Prom Night. I wonder why? Because real life sucks, but… Let’s B In Reality or not

Saturday, August 6, 2022

Saga 036 ~ Let’s B In Reality~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means reality is what I make it to be. Say it with me, “Republican Tendencies.”

But instead, I was crying about B III this morning, to be honest. I bawl whenever I’m up at 4:00 AM… ok, 4:15 AM. I find two reasons to cry in the morning. My son or the Day Job. One I want to wake up for. The other… do I want to keep existing? Death! Perhaps that’s what King Théoden would cry out. After seeing again these almost 38 years, I have wasted my existence. Braxton’s red hairdryer monster squeaky toy, lying at the foot of the bed. At least I’m not like some “crazy” people, sleeping with my fur baby’s toy cuddled up next to me. Indeed, I’m a lot worse; a confession that’s better left to Inspector Echo or Dirty Diana. What I cozied up to last night.

No wonder I dreamed about reality shows last night? It could have been all the reading I’ve been doing about the WWE women’s tag titles. I don’t want to read rumors. If anything, I don’t want to read about how I have made it this far, Lu. Contestants said quit. I mean, those many competitors told me to get off the stage and give up on it all, Luna. But do you know what saved me, Lady Lunalesca? Porn! Whitney Wright, to be specific. Lady Lunalesca, I can’t help but question why I think of a particular woman on any occasion like last night. But for sure, our dalliance was more like “The Girl Next Door.” That would be too much like my reality (snickers).

But the real world today consists of a haircut, a visit to PetSmart, and the usual errands for my survival. All for a reality I rather not inhabit. And there is a big fucking reason! Braxton Is Dead; I’ve been telling myself that a lot. Along with what happened on this day in history. Was it on the 7th? Either way, I lost the Basic Bitch, which hurts less than losing my little boy, my B III. The one thing I will claim in this world. Lunalesca, B’s life taken. And as for whatever this is (gestures at myself in bed). If this is reality… I choose to live in fantasies. The Moondust, Sick Fux, WTF! But won’t find Braxton there. Let’s B In Reality.

552 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 035 ~Son Of A B-Word~

I’ve had a few dogs, but B III was my heart dog, a soulmate, my kid. The only S.O.B. I ever loved. Because I don’t love myself. Plus, my mom is a good woman. Speaking of which, what have I been thinking of lately? “Skip Ad?” Son Of A B-Word

Friday, August 5, 2022

Saga 035 ~Son Of A B-Word~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how can that be when I keep waking up this late? Oh, this week sucked.

So, before I put my mind back into the gutter. Let’s talk about the little S.O.B. who is my son. Don’t get me wrong, Lady Sophia, that’s a fact. He is a son of a bitch; I miss every day. The fact that I had to exist in such a week as the one that took him from me. A standard 40-hour work week? Ha! If that were the case, I’d have one more reason to… careful there, right? Dangerous words. But for the record, I haven’t tried to harm myself well since January 11, 2022. And that was an accident. What do you get when you have Tifa Lockhart’s mature dress? And a hard-on for Zoe Colletti. Confessions with Inspector Echo but Lady Sophia. The Day Job schedule makes me want to cry. Then I remember B III crying that Wednesday, and I was so driven to hate then.

That’s why I still read the words; no, I write the words; Braxton Is Dead. They didn’t write that on the bill, of course. THEY have their words, and I have mine fair enough. Reading? There are so many things I don’t want to read. Thanks to YouTube, I’ve quit reading the words “Skip Ad.” That’s because I don’t want to watch anymore. What pray tell are my fingers going to do now? Well, besides becoming fists at the Day Job. I continue to white-knuckle the mattress. And I’m not one for praying anymore. Last time… a week like this.

Son of a bitch was dying, and it was all my fault because I wouldn’t listen. Now I’m done with a second book where I tried to listen. And what am I going to do with it, I ask you? Son of a bitch can’t do anything right. I shouldn’t mention my Ma like that, but I told one of the girls what I think about while I’m wasting my life. “Yo Mama?” More like “Yo Son,” if anyone dared to disrespect B III. “Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.” This son of a bitch wishes I could say Shakespeare was on the brain. But between Maiko Kaneda, Tifa Lockhart, and Cherry… I’m just thinking about blowjobs. Son Of A B-Word

551 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 033 ~The B In Blackout~

I shouldn’t have said that idiot, insane. Um, then stop thinking about me. My kid? But he’s gone because of me. That crime beats all others. The women I’ve offended. The things I’ve done to myself. Three words black it all out, yep. The B In Blackout

Wednesday, August 3, 2022

Saga 033 ~The B In Blackout~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And with that much money, while I’m doing nothing. I assume I could stay awake, Inspector.

But no, I’m at the Day Job. When I have to take out my “Air Pods,” my mind begins to flitter on everything. Then like that, I’m in a dark place. Let’s say it’s a version of the sunken place. I’m watching existence but in the past. Yet I believe I can see the future. Before I give way to despair, though, three little words wake me up. Braxton Is Dead. It always comes back to that Inspector. My Son Is Dead. No matter what “Humiliations Galore,” whatever will be endured. I say those three words, and everything becomes bearable. Yesterday it became more evident as I suffered. If you want my theory… it’s that time of the month, the year. My original sin returns.

You know Inspector because I don’t. It was only around 2017 when I started talking to Lady Lu again. It was about the Basic Bitch. And let us not forget Sweetness or The Harmonic War. Oh, too late! I hate reading my past work, Inspector; ok, Braxton Is Dead. His death was the worst day of my existence. It even surpasses horrific Emergence Day. Emergence Day… Fuck! That is coming up soon, ha! Echo, fuck me! Endure And Survive. And then, yet again, I have a note on August 6, 2017, saying such and such is not your friend. I want to hide from all these memories. Inspector, I try. I would have been better off dying on the floor. But no, my dear Braxton…

My son wouldn’t let me die when I blacked out on the floor, Inspector. He saved me, my little boy. The only other times I blacked out was when I drank some. I’m a lightweight. There’s also Blackout: A Thriller by Erin Flanagan. I swear that book’s living rent-free in my head. Inspector, you know I’ve been free of fapping going on 13 days… Surviving this AM? XXX blocks out everything and the blackness that comes from such a feeling. By God! Echo, why didn’t I for 161 days? Why do I resist now? It’s day 549 of my son being gone. Braxton Is Dead, and I deserve to feel every bit of Hell this day will be. Start in gratitude. I don’t think I will. The B In Blackout.

549 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 031 ~Value Having A Real Choice~

If I had a choice, my son would be alive. I could go back to sleep. After having some P.Y.T., How is it the Christians say? This is the day the Lord has made; We will rejoice and be glad in it. No, No, I Don’t Think I Will. Value Having A Real Choice

Monday, August 1, 2022

Saga 031 ~Value Having A Real Choice~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-First Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m up at 3:00 AM, or is it 4:00? American Dream at 7:00. Where is Braxton?

I didn’t choose to love him. And yet I CHOSE to love him. Does that make any sense? It’s like the very first episode of Pokémon; “Pokémon, I Choose You!” How about Power Rangers Ninja Storm? They weren’t the chosen ones. But they were all that was left, so yep. Or, as a “great” man said in Destiny 2. “You’re a bunch of dirty misfits, but you’re all that’s left, so you’ll have to do.” And didn’t I say that I wanted to be more of a grownup, a man? All that matters is I love my boy. And I don’t have any choice in the matter. As the song goes, “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You.” So, where does choice originate? Awake and Alive…

Fuck I am? Pardon my language, but I have chosen to be mad. I can say that for now, ha. Madam, I could say I’m choosing violence, but that might not go over well, considering. Anyway, so why am I angry? As always, my son is dead. And that’s too much for a Dad, Madam. I’m upset because of what I have to do now. A reason I want to write. I’m not so mad. And finally, it’s what I have been talking about daily. “Do I have a drink, or do I not have a drink?” I swear those words continue to haunt me, and you know I ain’t talking a thing about drinking. Do I masturbate, or do I not masturbate? More acceptable?

The ideas of violence over anything sexual. But more to the point is that I have a “choice” over something in this existence. Today will be day 11 if I can last, Madam. The thirst? Again what about B III? 547 days since he’s been gone, and where are my choices when it comes to him? I can’t choose what I want to buy to “honor” him. As much as I wish it were otherwise, I won’t be the man he thinks I am. Yeah, I already began failing Six Impossible Things yesterday. Hell! Everything up to this moment is no choice of mine. My puppy, people, “pen and paper.” But my wayward penis fuck! Someday, somehow, someway, may I Value Having A Real Choice.

547 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 029 ~So To B Asleep~

So the only thing that doesn’t need a rest today is the phone since I finally had the battery replaced. But I’ve been so tired I’ve been off of it unless I got a message, and it’s never what I was really hoping for. Yet I cannot rest. So To B Asleep.

Saturday, July 30, 2022

Saga 029 ~So To B Asleep~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what would be the first thing I buy? It’d be a soft place to rest.

So to be asleep is one thing. But to rest? Last night I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. Goodnight ha! Every night I still say, “Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams.” Why did I cut on the lamp halfway through the night if he is here? There’s something in the darkness. Or so I thought, as it wasn’t a nightmare. I swear the last thing that flittered in my head; was having black hellfire magic like Jacob. That’s because I wanted to smash the alarm. Succubus Lord dreams… we’ll get to that. I miss having Cerberus; well, B III sigh. I didn’t even reach for my 9MM. Hell! If it was my time to go, it was my time. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, right?

So to be asleep is one thing. But to relax? Again, first and foremost, that falls to B III, yep. But without him, you know what knocks me out? Well, after a while, since I sound more like Todd. Or I could be Jacob again. Recall my favorite scene in Succubus Lord. 10, I think. The one where Jacob has to “fill” all seven of his succubi? Lunalesca, I’m driving myself crazy. How many days has it been since I got off? Over a week if I can keep surviving. Only I want to fall asleep again because I know what would keep me awake. This morning it’s been all about Roxanne Perez. Next to talking to Cherry. And I didn’t even wake up then.

Roxanne Perez

So to be asleep is one thing. But to respond? Triple B never had a problem getting me to wake up. I was all fuck my life when I had him. At least I had a purpose. What is love? But to rescue? Who do I want to save… myself? I wrote a whole damn book. Lady Lunalesca, I will have to prove to myself by tomorrow that I don’t need a doc. Chronic fatigue? But to remember? Life? More like existence. Is there anything other than XXX? I’ve just been diagnosing myself with everything, haven’t I? Depression, Fatigue, OCD, Sex addiction, insanity. I wish I could sound like an adult. But sleep doesn’t fix everything. The ability to rest Lunalesca. So To B Asleep

545 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 028 ~B Leaving In Failure~

My kid believes in me. If I was a good dad, I wouldn’t wait until the last day. But I can say I’ll have a 50,000-word book on the 31st. If I’m not busy with things. My knuckles are white and not just from pounding the keys. B Leaving In Failure.

Friday, July 29, 2022

Saga 028 ~B Leaving In Failure~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go punch out God. Am I Writing fiction or failure?

I’m still writing about Triple B and me, thank you very much. I should be done by Sunday, Lady Sophia. The thing is, I wanted to be done by today. So I suppose this counts as crying over B III this morning. The idea that I’ll be reading I’m a Camp NaNoWriMo winner on the very last day. But let’s focus on B III. Like the three chapters, I should do. Don’t forget there is also the eulogy. And yes, my lady, I just googled, “what is the difference between a eulogy and an obituary?” And I need poems for two chapters each but 50,000 words… If I didn’t know any better, I would say that sounds like an excuse. I’m talking to my son…

Ha! I can’t even talk to my friends. When I’m done with my Masochism. I’m giddy in my Sadism. Yes, everything short of my son’s passing devolves into sexual addiction. And even B liked Yabbos. I always told him the first pair he loved was the girl I’d have to marry. The first outside the family… his Aunt Carolina. Haven’t talked to her lately. Then there’s Cherry and M Anime, who he never met, and I’m thankful. Daddy’s a perv. Cherry has been suffering so much, yet you know what I’m hoping for whenever she texts. Two things. Don’t I have any empathy? Sophia, you’ve seen what I’ve started reading. When it’s not something on pet loss, it’s M Anime talking about such horrible men.

Why do you think I would read Erotica? I haven’t read anything like that since Christmas, Lady Sophia. It’s tradition. Anyway, you know how such stories fucking get me going. Pardon my language. Only I can’t tell my “other” friends. I’m much too busy to write such stories… yeah, right. Because what am I going to do today? I won’t be finishing Braxton and my novel today. I continue to white-knuckle my baser urges like that book Blackout by Erin Flanagan. “Do I have a drink, or do I not have a drink?” Fucking hard! Yep, I don’t want to tell the “man in the mirror” I’m walking around with my dick in my hands. Or that I failed with writing. B Leaving In Failure.

544 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 026 ~ Bee’s Knees Of Addiction~

It’s not every day I write something that makes me question? Should I put it out there? Republican ideas without the actual money. No, I’m only a black man who lost his homie, my son. Addicted to, a sucker for pain. The Bee’s Knees Of Addiction.

Wednesday, July 27, 2022

Saga 026 ~ Bee’s Knees Of Addiction~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means something must be bugging me. Chances are I am bugged. Or are people bugs?

I’ve been thought of as much worse. But if you ask me what I’d like to be considered as Inspector? Yes, even more than a billionaire. It would always have to be B III’s Dad. I was telling his Aunt Carolina the other day; I have thought of my wedding day. Hell! I have names picked out for the future kids. Katniss, Tris, Ember, my girls on fire. Luke and Leia. I will have to give one Braxton’s name, no doubt. My strongest addiction. Braxton’s death. Can we make this official? I’m addicted to the day, the depression, the destruction. I’m addicted to the misery. The song says, “This love is killing me, but you’re the only one.” That’s my Braxton. Loving my crying.

And speaking of music, “we don’t love them hoes.” But fuck me, I miss ’em plenty. Pardon my language, Inspector. I can’t get this quote out of my mind. “Do I have a drink, or do I not have a drink?” Only my drug of choice is, jerking off. Or paying to see a pair of tits. It’s only been five days, and I’m trying Inspector; I’m trying real HARD. So far, I’ve stayed off porn sites; what do you count OnlyFans as? I saw something on Facebook this morning, leading me to look it up on Twitter. Let’s just say, “Prepare For Trouble,” Inspector. The worse of it has been these two English girls. I swear I’ll break. But I can’t. Only So Hott

No, I save the breaking for the phone or, more like, the repairs. If only I could be fixed like that. Like someone out of The Screwfly Solution… No, I don’t mean the killers, Inspector. More like the character of Barney. And sure, there are support groups for every addiction. My Ma showed me one for mourning “pets.” I’m sure the information is somewhere Echo. I could delete every bit of porn I have. Leave OnlyFans. Delete Social Media. Everything! Echo, I’d cut off the phone. Ok, I was without it for six hours and suffered from withdrawal. And the Day Job? It brings no joy, yet it is a drug. “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” The Bee’s Knees Of Addiction.

542 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 024 ~Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear~

A “great” man once said, no one man should have all that power. The most I ever had was over my furry son’s life. A few screens that show me the “world.” And the idea that I can sleep when I want. Ah, power. Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear.

Monday, July 25, 2022

Saga 024 ~Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear~

Two-Hundred and Fiftieth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means, in He-Man’s words, “I Have The Power!” Rule 13, Power Is All That Matters, right?

From last week to the start of this week, it’s been all about power, energy, and some plain ole oomph. This shows why I’m up at 2:00 in the morning, but that comes later, Madam. Responsibility, or how I look at it. Adulting for the most part. I cannot stress this enough. Was I responsible when it came to the life of my son? Hell!

My Brother’s Keeper? Regarding daddies, Triple B found another one in Father Time. But that doesn’t stop me from blaming myself. Shame is how I’m feeling right this second. I was supposed to be responsible for B III’s well-being. And now, like some parent leaving their kid in the car, I’m worried about a phone. Isn’t that harsh and despicable?

Sad too that the phone, in a way, is so vital in my lousy existence. If B was here, I could try to say that I need it to look after him. Now, if anything, I’m just “Some Guy” Madam. Cherry said, “You men, you’re all the same in the end.” With the way, I feel about people (sigh). Of course, the best man I know died 540 days ago. Braxton is furry and fluffy.

On the other hand, Madam, as the song goes, “But I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo.” Oh, you know I’m way worse. I keep looking at the date and must remember why I began talking to Lady Lu again. Because of my second greatest desire, which is XXX. I’m hopeless.

Fear of both having and losing that at the touch of a button. What other function do any of these devices serve? Oh right, writing as a livelihood. What was I creating only after doing the bare minimum of words for B? The first poem I’ve written in forever, for tits. “It has that power over me,” sex, I mean. At least I have the power to say it. Such is strength. But that’s like a few weeks ago when I got it up to go to Best Buy, and they couldn’t do anything for the phone. And if that happens today? I’ve said the epitome of manhood is fatherhood. A man provides and has the power to do so. Power Means, Responsibility, Desire, Fear

540 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 022 ~ I’d B A Fool~

Nothing lasts forever. Not my boy, batteries, or a bit of courage I need to get by. With a few bucks? I can’t get another furry kid yet. My heart’s not in it. Might have to go to Best Buy soon. People suck. Ignorance is bliss; I’d Be A Fool

Saturday, July 23, 2022

Saga 022 ~ I’d B A Fool~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m with the dumbest smart people walking the planet. Don’t need money for that…

B though? How it should always start and end, but there’s been a lot to do. So much less than the week before, yet things never seem to slow down. Or am I getting that much lazier, Lu? I’m either fearful, lost to my fury, or fucking horny. It’s been all FEAR this AM. B III doesn’t need my excuses. So what have I done for him today at around 6:30? At the moment trying to save everything. What am I talking about? He is everything. Okay, so my writing, this world I have built, and all the evidence of my whoredom. Falling apart? And I mean everything from the phone to plant care, AKA B’s yard. To parts on the computer (sigh), Lady Lunalesca.

Batteries, Power, Energy. As the song goes, “Maybe God Is Tryin’ To Tell You Somethin.'” My feelings about God remain the same. My son is the word of God. And if he ain’t here, Lu. Well, then I don’t think me and God have anything to say to one another. And since I never trusted him in the first place… Okay, so that’s a lie. Whenever I left Braxton by his lonesome, I prayed. But the question becomes, Lady Lunalesca, who do I trust. Today? That’s a question that must be addressed. Considering everything that I was doing this morning. I’ve been from bots (virtual assistants) to batteries to trusting not the man but the boy in the mirror. And that is an honest mistake.

Balls? The only time I’m sure I have any is when I feel all kinds of antsy. That book I finished yesterday. Blackout: A Thriller by Erin Flanagan has me thinking much about addiction and the mind. I even thought about getting a book on my particular brand. But while I’m an open book, I would put something like that on my book list for people to see. But then? Hell! I am broken, just like the TV downstairs. Did I forget about that Lunalesca? I kinda did. Time heals all wounds because sooner or later, you’re dead. Such darkness. But true because lying makes us all STUPID. That’s the worst thing to be but to live my life this way. I’d B A Fool.

538 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will