Tag: Truth

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

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I’ve breathed in worse than the Day Job bathroom. The germs of 99.9 of people I know. B’s aunt is an exception. Mourning her family’s loss of their beloved Dobby. Sometimes I wish I could stop altogether, but B’s favorite game. Breathe In, B Out

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, I always say. Today (Sunday), ahem, when it rains, it pours. My condolences to Carolina’s, Dobby.

I know, I’ve talked about “The Long Walk” before. Not the book so much as the concept. Sorry, Stephen King. Sorry, Aunt Carolina. How about sorry to the veterinarians? B? Should I include you as well, Echo? As I’m sure, I’ve told this story. Hmm. We’ll work up to B III. I don’t know how old I was, but it was on an Emergence Day. In the cartoon Beetlejuice, there’s this character that goes, “What in tarhooties?” Only I said, “What in the Hell?” Next thing I know, I’m being pulled outside, but what was the worst part, Inspector? Breathe in, breathe out, and what? It damn sure ain’t living. I haven’t lived for… since losing Braxton; 353 Days when you see this Inspector Echo.

The death of a child. Honest Echo, I should have died with that Emergence, Inspector. Every day, stepping into school and it’s what I wish. I’m no killer. Somehow inevitable. Only the one I killed was in this house. B III called it his home. I’m worse than my Olds. And forgive my Republican tendencies once again, but going out is like a Death March. You know how I talk about the restrooms at the Day Job and how I can’t breathe in the stench. The whole damn place is like that. I can’t breathe, and then I beg to get out. Then, of course, I whine about being let back in. One of Braxton’s favorite games. The look on his face before the diagnosis.

Breathe in, breathe out. I know B was doing this. Because as I’ve been reading and as the song goes. Listen To Your Heart. Braxton told me, “Daddy, let’s go home.” If anything, I speak fluent Braxton. If I had only listened before, but no. Always breathe in, breathe out. It was my life, put one fucking foot in front of the other for those bastards at the Day Job. We were struggling to breathe but sitting together, laying together. The air up there B? Is it better, not as you need it. I don’t know how I keep doing it. I was a zombie. And no matter the horrors slurred, spitted, are shat I walk, I breathe. I killed Braxton. Breathe In, B Out.

Gospel 202 ~Sell You On Will~

353 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 200 ~The Heart Begs, Body Dictates~

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A great man said, “Steel isn’t strong, boy. Flesh is stronger!” He also said, “Look at the strength in your body, the desire in your heart. I gave you this!” What I was capable of for my son. Now he’s dead, and I live. “The Heart Begs, Body Dictates”

Monday, January 17, 2022

Chronicle 200 ~The Heart Begs, Body Dictates~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means there is nothing I cannot buy. What about Braxton back?

Time? The time I wasted this afternoon. I’m Time Travelling. Guess what day it is? Wednesday Madam. I was telling one of the other girls, Lady Sophia, I believe. Anyway, B would have been thrilled by today’s events. The Day Job makes me glad… leaving. Madam, I am trying to imagine how he would be. How Braxton would jump everywhere. His heart Madam, whether it was joy at my return. His comfort. Braxton’s body was failing. That’s what I remember, him walking to his water bowl because he didn’t want me to freak out. Braxton always had to be strong, and when he wasn’t… I pretended not to notice. Let me carry him downstairs, or he would bump into things from time to time. He lived; I didn’t freak out.

Speaking of bumping and freaking, how did I spend this good Wednesday given to me? The heart wants the pendant I bought for Braxton. I want to build a damn shrine come the 31st. I should have it by now. I’ve been counting up the dollars. Oh, and not working. Head wise, my belly is asking why I am starving myself? No, this isn’t a cry for help. I got thirty bucks in my wallet. I’m not counting carbs; I’m counting rations and next payday. But my body, Hell, I would starve if I could get my hands on a few new tools for my Stuff and Thangs. Not like I got anything on camera today. I continue to fuck-up, coming to my what, abstinence?

All I’ve been reading has been about? How the heart is stronger than the brain. I suppose that’s true in certain instances. Of course, I thought it was love many times, but no, Madam. At the end of the day, all I wanted to do was fuck. Then Braxton came along. Knowing what love is. So there’s my heart. I know where my liver is… a few too many pills. Guts, do I have any? The heart, what has it done for me lately? Flesh is stronger, I’m afraid. Inevitable. Impossible not to give in. But for 161 Days? Sigh, body, heart, and mind as confusing as Gospel 200 Wills Lost And Found. Strange this body finds any peace. So The Heart Begs, Body Dictates.

Gospel 200 ~Wills Lost And Found~

351 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 198 ~When B Was 15~

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All the things that Braxton taught me and how did I repay him. What lessons did I teach my son? How to use bathroom pad. BOOBS ARE AWESOME. Is there any better pastime than sleep? I didn’t believe I’d make it past 15, but him… oh. When B Was 15.

Saturday, January 15, 2022

Chronicle 198 ~When B Was 15~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, yet I hate Math more than ever. And what about History, sigh. Hell, some computer literacy?

Yeah, because whirly-birding on the Internet isn’t helping. Should we even talk about my “writing career?” That would mean I was trying. Uh, what time did I wake up, Lunalesca? Every day, History repeats itself. Living for the love of saving myself or my son. I’m always a day late and a dollar short. Lunalesca, when it comes to the Day Job killing us? Slavery? Yeah, there goes my Republican ideas once again. I did get a sample of “The 1619 Project” yesterday. But for now or um the rest of this month. It’s the Math that’s chafing me for today. Lunalesca, we could talk some about anatomy. Me sticking my dick in crazy. That’s a confession for Echo. Gospel 198 Will A Medieval Hour…

Gospel 198 ~Will A Medieval Hour…~

My word to B, I never thought I’d be a Daddy. “You still haven’t been,” they’ll say. Those same people were all hoping I’d die young. I can’t tell you the first time I attempted dying with sleeping pills. (Dangerous words, Lu.) Oh, last night, I was choking on a jelly bean, or was it fast food? Lunalesca, we’re going over every subject in the books, aren’t we? Computer Science, History, Books, Anatomy. What else is there to know. Oh, I should have taken a Shop class or something with Photography. No, I was much too busy thinking, “I can’t.” You know I’m no motivational speaker, of course. I grew up in a generation of “knowledge is power.” From 15 to now… I FEEL STUPID.

When Braxton was 15, he saw me through the plague year Lunalesca. My heroic ONE. Lunalesca making such a soul like my Braxton, you know I believed. I wanted. TWO. Braxton deserved a mom, and I always said a woman Braxton liked, I’d marry. THREE. First time that happened, Braxton and I were separated. To her wedding, I left “FOUR.” Now I didn’t mean to sound like Yoda. B IS my best friend. Never said; I Got 5 On It. Yet B IS number one in my life. So why did B Die? Luna, Two, three, four, five, is it SIX. DMX said, “Life is a lesson, and I’m gonna teach it.” How? I’m so STUPID. I’m sitting here, thirty-seven, but When B Was 15?

349 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 197 ~To B A Doctor~

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Am I now saying what if I were a veterinarian now at 348 days? Better if I knew Necromancy, but that doesn’t work on ashes… Hell, I’ve avoided Covid for nearly a whole year without Braxton. He couldn’t make it the second plague year. “To B A Doctor.”

Friday, January 14, 2022

Chronicle 197 ~To B A Doctor~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I don’t cry on the way to the Day Job. Hell, what Day Job?

I went to the Day Job today, and there was no truck. I got the day off… Braxton is thrilled. Only I wish I could see less of the Day Job and more of him. But I keep breathing, Sophia. With all the times I have had to end it. Hell, I’ve told you the story of B saving me. Some years ago, when I was starving myself. I was dehydrated; all my choice, I passed out. I was on the floor, and I had been thinking I would take B III for a walk. Lucky I wasn’t outside. Braxton ran upstairs and got my Olds, and of course, they said I was STUPID. It didn’t matter to B. I’m his best friend, his Daddy.

That day I swore I’d keep going and why? Because I had been so out of it, my “father” said Braxton had dirty drinking water. What a reason to live, hmm? Not because my Olds cared or that I wanted to. It was all because I had failed my son. B could get sick, Sophia. I am sick to look back on Gospel 197 Will Becomes A Dictator. Yeah, I kept B III far away. I fucked up yesterday. Oh, did I mention today is Wednesday, Time Travel. Anyway, I worked yesterday on my Stuff and Thangs, my Onlyfans, and, dammit, Zoe Colletti and Cherry. I was transfixed. The reasons to keep my heart beating Lady Sophia. As I said, crying, the Day Job, Braxton.

Another thing I didn’t do in front of Braxton is cry. Besides shooting off my dick, I haven’t stopped crying for going on 348 days. I couldn’t tell he was dying, but he knew when I was hurt or worse. One of the reasons he would lie in bed holding his pee. B the Ph.D. Again I’m repeating myself, Braxton would bring my blanket or grab my hoody for me. When it was to be seen, a leg or an arm, my neck, that’s where B chose to cuddle me. Stomachaches or a fever? Braxton would stay close by. He’d lick my hand, even whimper. I wanted to be a vet once upon a time. But no, a lazy grim reaper. To B A Doctor

Gospel 197 ~Will Becomes A Dictator~

348 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

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I wish I was a little bit taller. I wish I had wings. Hell, I should start playing “Far Cry 5” with that grappling hook instead of having dangerous thoughts. Quite painful, but I’m alive if I’m searching for tortilla chips. B A Head Taller.

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m sure I could afford lifts, one of those grab tools, people, my Braxton, right…

Today is Sunday (Time-Travel), but what happened was on Saturday. I talked about having an epiphany, a revelation. I won’t go all into that. Better you could ask my man in the mirror, Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of… Gospel 195 Nobody But Will’s Wife. Inspector, that’s what I’ve been doing these days. Reminiscing? No, that’s the wrong word. Reaching out for answers. And I want to say there is none, then Inspector, there’s truth. Anyway, let me start with Saturday at Walmart. My Ma made some Queso dip, and surprise, I’m out of chips. I ate hers, snacking. So the chips I want are on this high shelf. There are people. I can ignore the chips or reach and risk humiliating myself and so…

A person will choose physical harm to avoid mental anguish. I chose my mind over my body. I reached those damn chips because I didn’t want to know the shame of my failure. They’re all gonna laugh at you, but nobody did because I succeeded. But it hurt like Hell. Humiliations galore rule at the Day Job, but I continue to hurt myself there, Inspector. Dammit, I’m so tired this second, but I refuse any napping because of my mind Inspector. Physical pleasures Echo? I’m going out of my mind. Only let my flesh suffer, Inspector. Then there’s death. Ok, dangerous words always. Unhealthy grief? I’ve had 346 Days of it. I’m surprised I haven’t drowned in it. Between refilling Braxton’s water bowl. My tears, several releases, but no blood.

That leads me back into the mental or the physical. Again, every day I refill his water. I place his treats on the table. Echo, that’s what I hear my voice do when I call him for meds. When I tell him hello and goodbye. I set up his gates, move his bed, everything. I put myself through the physical task to avoid the humiliating truth. I failed Braxton. Fuck me, don’t sugarcoat it; I killed B III. My son, my best friend, is dead because of me, Echo. That is my failure and my disgrace, and I wish I had fallen from that damn shelf for chips. Let me drown in wasted water. Never do Onlyfans again. To die, I’d B A Head Taller.

346 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 193 ~Pain Makes Heroes And Villains~

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I always saw myself as the villain. I’m no Trumptard, but I like power. That means I’m no democrat. Um, I don’t want to do politics. But I find it hard to do any morning without my son. My hero. Playing the villain for Pain Makes Heroes And Villains.

Monday, January 10, 2022

Chronicle 193 ~Pain Makes Heroes And Villains~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does that make me a hero or a villain. I know that making money hurts. Kills!

I could talk about my body wasting away, but of course, you know what I want to talk about. Braxton is dead. I wouldn’t know at the time “2021” Gospel 193 List It Up, Will. Madam, I was much too busy playing the hero. Like a fucking rich man with $600 in my pocket, and I spent $100 on B. As a poor man, I was still working to provide for us both. Every day I face the evils of this world because I AM a father. Present tense always. That’s what Jack and Kate say in their book Letters From Rainbow Bridge. Past tense? That’s dismissing Braxton from my life, and I need him now more than ever. Kept my lamp on last night.

That doesn’t make me sound like much of a villain, now does it. I don’t even know what woke me up, but I couldn’t get back to sleep for a bit. Where is my hero? Watching over me as always, but still, I needed the light. All I recall is the pain. Nightmares have pain? I’ll always think of how B III would get a blanket when I was ill. A cape and hoody, ha. If I would make all the world my bed, then he would stay here so I could keep him safe. The way he’d smile when I would pet him or rub his tummy. B III, look, the day is saved. The pain Madam, the greatest hurt comes from being alone.

No, that’s a lie. In one of the arguments, I have with myself… I need to stop talking to myself. That makes me sound crazy. At least when Braxton… again, I’m trying. Braxton is here but talking to myself seems to be a form of Acceptance. 344 days, I’ll never. Anyway, my “father” taught me that this is the most villainous act that can ever be done. The Destruction of a Soul. Yes, I’m a killer. All these books on Euthanasia sound like Greek to me. The good death. Taking someone’s body is horrible, their life even more so. But the concept of taking away someone’s will? My “father’s” a villain. My son’s a hero. But both brought pain. Me? Pain Makes Heroes And Villains

Gospel 193 ~List It Up, Will~

“Last night reading over the Dæmon’s vet care. I felt like such a horrible parent.”

“Now it’s “A Different Alchemy” Jeffery and his son Galen. One more thing to show your dad like failures, yep.”
193 List It Up, Will

344 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 191 ~B Forgetful This Week~

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This marks one more month that I’d rather forget. Hell to forget the 342 Days without B, but what would we have done in all that time? B would make sure I got his grandma a gift. Only, I’m buying another pendant in B’s memory. “B Forgetful This Week”

Saturday, January 8, 2022

Chronicle 191 ~B Forgetful This Week~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. I wonder, do other billionaires forget how much they have. I continue to remember my loss.

My B, I swear I have ruined the weekend for myself. That was fucked up to say, wasn’t it, Lu? What I mean is, at the moment, I am once again time-traveling, in a rush to not be alone anymore. I believe the adoptions start back up today at PetSmart. Can I shush it? Again, me saying STUPID stuff. It’s been that way since I started reading My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do?” I’m sure I’ve finished it by now, but we’ll get to talking about that. Let’s start with my writing, for example, Gospel 191 ~The Island Will What…~. I mentioned B III had a vet appointment, but it was all about my books. The first one of the new year, Lunalesca.

Instead of B III’s life, I mused about The Island by Gary Paulsen. If I remember, he didn’t make it through 2021 either. I ruined my first song of the year on Spotify talking to Dear Future Wife. It was somewhere between “Hold On Tight” and, um, “It’s Only Love.” Romantic, Paternal, Best Friend? As Halle Berry put it, “What do you know about love?” Hell, being at the Day Job, I have all sorts of thoughts. Besides hating the damn place, I know I don’t want to fall in love. I’m thirty-seven and already sure I’ll die alone. Braxton? I get emails about dogs, but I can never make a move. Another PetSmart Chihuahua? Lunalesca, I fucked that up. What about my Ma’s gift?

Yeah, I forgot about her other gift, and she was ever so grateful for the first one. So, of course, I became an asshole, Lu. Then again, B’s Aunt Indiana Gone is getting her gift. The money Amazon returned Lu, I spent on one more memorial pendant. Never forget B. This is why I’ve read two Wendy Van de Poll books. Started reading Kate McGahan. As the song goes, “Am I A Psycho?” If anything, more Republican than ever honest. Reading about dead children, dead pets. At least, unlike Republicans, there is no fix here. Braxton died almost a year ago. 342 days ago, to be exact. A bad week, try a terrible month, Lady Lu. He’s My Son, never forget. B Forgetful This Week

Gospel 191 ~The Island Will What…~

342 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 190 ~Brave As Braxton Tails~

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Do you know why people don’t hear my stories? Um, that in itself is a long story, but B was always one to listen. And if I had listened to him… Hell, I wouldn’t be reading two Wendy Van de Poll books this week. After Jack’s. “Brave As Braxton Tails.”

Friday, January 7, 2022

Chronicle 190 ~Brave As Braxton Tails~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can buy the tasty bacon for Braxton. Not what I “STOLE” from Jack’s.

Yes, Lady Sophia, that’s what I’ve been thinking about going on three days now. It beats what I was thinking about this time last year, for the record. Gospel 190 Mounting Vague Assumptions Will. Sometimes I miss Dirty Diana, but those days are for Braxton. Hell, every day is for B now. But I should be telling you a story. Well more like what I wish had happened. I’m sure I’ve told you the one about Braxton and how he earned another nickname, “Pancake.” How I would say to him, “I love you like pancakes,” often. Anyway, something I didn’t confess to Inspector Echo Wednesday. So I’m sitting in line waiting for my chicken biscuit combo. The lady gives me the wrong order. Easy fix.

If I were a man of action. If this was The Legend of Zelda, hell, The Legend of Braxton, my little prince. Thou art courageous Will, but no, I’m not. So I take the wrong food. Lucky for me, they also ordered a chicken biscuit. If it’s any consolation, I did ask for my Sprite. What, it helps settle my stomach? Root beer is my favorite, but they don’t have that. Plus, I’m too scared to ask for Strawberry Fanta. Yet I wish I could have come back and faced B III’s wrath for not getting hash browns. I would have shared the pancakes, Sophia. Braxton would have ignored the bacon like he did the first time he ever stole my breakfast. Father and son.

As far as B III’s concerned, I was the bravest man he knew. That’s not saying much between me, his grandpa, and the vet at Banfield we both hated. He loved my father even when he got kicked four feet through a door. The veterinarian, if he’d been there. Sigh… Braxton would have gotten one more day. Chicks kill me; Braxton got that same courtesy. Unfair and not cool, I know, I killed Braxton. True Story. Braxton, thou art courageous. Next to love, there will always be his courage, bravery, sacrifice, and victory tales. Wherever B III finds himself these days. In books about his passing? My shadow, he who gave me courage. For a life worth more than a Jack’s. Brave As Braxton Tails.

“I give hope to men, I leave none for myself.”

“I come on behalf of one whom I love.” ― Lord of the Rings… (Braxton)

341 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

WillLeave a comment

Surprise, I’m still alive, but I’ve been saying that since I bought cheap sleeping pills. I can’t take aspirin anymore, but who knows. Does a liver recover? More concerned about my heart and wallet. Braxton was my constant. No Surprise, It’s A B

Wednesday, January 5, 2022

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but no, I don’t have a new best friend. Well, how do I know with Time-Travel?

I didn’t know I’d try “adulting” and pay my own way for once. I gave my Ma a 50 Echo. Um, Echo, that put me in a bad way with finances, so I could be starving this week, but no. Then I got reimbursed for my eye exam, so that’s $138.00 Inspector Echo. Hell, I didn’t know I would start this year pissing off another woman. Icky choice of words. Anyway, I saved $10.00 not having to pay Maitland Ward. Capital A had me in a bad way. I’m upset I won’t see Cherry in a particular light again. Making women happy Inspector Echo? You know that’s my thing, ha. And let’s not talk about the Basic Bitch. It is a New Year, right. Surprise!

I’m still alive as the song goes, but Braxton is not. After all the bangs, booms, and blasts from last night. Again I’m back in time; today is January 1, 2022. B III didn’t have a heart attack this time last year; he wasn’t hit with anything. Dear God, I looked it up for sure. Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~ I don’t want to read it. Then there’s the book I picked out today. Christmas is done, and I didn’t know where the Hell I was before, during, after Braxton. It was routine, and now as always, I’m a day late and a dollar short with his death. My first book this New Year, “My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do?” Surprise, Surprise!

Bucks, Babes, my Boy all coming and going this way and that. It’s like I’m always screaming at the TV, tell me something I don’t know. A moneyed white dude gets away with anything and everything again, inevitable. Enough past talk, future is coming on. Which, of course, is why I’m talking to you this Saturday, E. Day Job, Humiliations Galore. Besides getting reimbursed or my Ma stopping by, the future is always worse. That’s a sin I can report to you today. I knocked off speaking positivity into my life from my New Year’s Resolutions. Now that would be something if I could keep them. I’d settle for having a good day. In school, a D was acceptable. In life, Surprise, It’s A B.

Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~
Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~

339 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 186 ~Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens~

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I heard that you ain’t no kind of man without land. I know “a man provides” for his family. I ain’t got much, but I offer what I have to artists, assholes, adult entertainers. Sometimes you have to cross the road. Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens.

Monday, January 3, 2022

Chronicle 186 ~Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-First Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I’m $11.00 richer than yesterday. I’m a different man from last year or not, you think?

For the record, it’s still December 31, 2021. Time-Travel Madam, more so now. I wonder, will I stop spending so much money on Yabbos, make my list? B would “say” the best legs, breasts, and thighs are found in a bucket of chicken. Church’s chicken? Something else for me to hype today besides a pornstar. No, I don’t mean that as an insult in any sense, J. Sex workers, starlets, the sensuality of women I’m quite the fan of. I don’t hedge, hem, and haw, hide that fact at all. So why do I feel I’ve been squished for now? Fuck I crossed the road today, and all I want to do is cross back, Madam. I wasn’t wrong; was I? Trust your first instinct.

That’s why THEY ask why the chicken crossed the road instead of saying the poor thing. Hell, Madam, I’m a poor thing (cough) $11.00 (cough). I’m not going back, dammit. Madam, I always do this, but okay here we go. You know Maitland Ward? Much like every other bit of adult entertainment, she made the budget. So like I was telling Lady Sophia, I’m hanging out on OnlyFans. She says Good Morning, so do I and she starts flirting. I ain’t got any money, so better to remain silent. That’s me being a squirrel, J. Anyway, she calls me out, asking how much longer I’ll last not supporting her. $11.00 a month… So I say I’m sorry and bye and unsubscribe. I crossed the road.

When you’re a coward, they call you a chicken. But they get to the other side, don’t they, despite everything, Madam? And God, I’ve been fried, well burned plenty, Madam. Squirrels, on the other hand, are only thinking about their nuts. Madam, I’m aware, chickens, roosters, whatever. What about Milana Vayntrub; could’ve been Squirrel Girl? B III, like his Daddy, is pretty obsessed with Yabbos, but at the end of the day… Are we eating? My boy’s courage at the end, and I’m upset about a girl? I decided and I should make more choices like it. The choices that put money in my pocket and don’t cater to me being disrespected. Man or a mouse, Squirrel or Chicken. Well, Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens.

337 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will