Tag: Truth

Chronicle 081 ~Yesterday Was The Easy Day~

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Sad but true, even before Braxton and worse without him. It’s sort of like that movie Office Space. Every day is the worst day of my life except for Emergence, Braxton’s last day, and the Day Job anniversary. Yesterday Was The Easy Day

Monday, September 20, 2021

Chronicle 081 ~Yesterday Was The Easy Day~

Two-Hundred And Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I won’t be writing at the dining room table tomorrow. I’ll be busy with humiliation.

If there’s anything to hope for while I Time Travel today, it’s this. No, not that I’ll see a fur baby at PetSmart Saturday. Today is the farthest from that, being Sunday, and I got another email about a puppy yesterday. Every day I’m farther away from B III, dammit. Um, excuse me, Madam, I need that pain. As I was trying to say, I can only hope I’ve seen the worst humiliations this world has had to offer. Only I know I haven’t. If I were smart, I would be in bed right now, soaking in whatever energy, comfort, peace to be found, yep. Despite all I have done today, the only fact is that Monday will be worse. Dare I become a prophet?

A Realist. As I said before, it will be 232 days without my son when you see this, dear Madam. It doesn’t get easier. I still have yet to see one where I wasn’t crying about him. I’d take that over living like this. It’s a horrible thought to think that Braxton was the lucky one. It should have been me. I’ve said it before that 2020 and being 36 was a cakewalk, piece of cake and easy as pie compared to the moment right now. Let’s look at today, Sunday. Besides talking to you, I got dinner started early. I worked on “Stuff and Thangs.” Madam, I took a shower. I even changed my mind between reading The Handmaid’s Tale and The Red Collar.

Compared to tomorrow or today, whatever. Madam, this whole week is going to suck. Yes, every day will be worse than the last. Braxton’s not here to lie to anymore. I only speak the truth to myself, and when it comes to the day job… I know I didn’t say Another…

“There’s too many men, too many people, making too many problems.”

My fucking Republican tendencies. They want more people until they’re born. More, unless their immigrants. Yes, more unless they have brains. People make the days harder, that is true.

“If anything, I am an equal opportunity misanthropist.” ― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle.

I think that’s it… I hate days more than the people. Hating myself the most because Yesterday Was The Easy Day.

232 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 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

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I always pictured the Daddy reading to his kids. Of the 38 books I’ve gotten to so far, only 11 (maybe) were appropriate. Braxton was here for four of them. All of January. Yet The Handmaid’s Tale has been on my mind. Let’s Book It, Braxton

Friday, September 17, 2021

Chronicle 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but what did you do today, Braxton? No hands for applause. Some whining, big floppy ears.

I want to talk about Braxton but, there’s something I’ve been thinking… Moira and Emily. Didn’t I say something um wanting to read The Handmaid’s Tale? How about today, ha. I’ve only seen the show, a bit into Season 3. So here’s my question. Would you want to be Moira, no fanfare but to know that you’re safe? No one that doesn’t know what you’ve endured can ever understand. But now you’re a person you can live, your life matters. Or would you instead be Emily? Your life matters, and everyone knows? You’re seen not only as a survivor but a big damn hero. The world that you escaped from, the things you had to do in such horrific circumstances. Not only that, but someone is waiting for you only.

I’ve been talking to M Anime about how hard it is for her to be a woman. I in no way, shape, or form what to imply I know her struggle. Oh, I would rant to B about being black. My point is this. While I imagined reading The Handmaid’s Tale instead of, well, my latest. When I walk into the house, I remember all the days Braxton was still here to greet me always. Lame, isn’t it? When he was young, for sure, I was an Emily, and I didn’t have to bring in a baby. Bringing in a bag of goodies was enough, and of course, yeah, I’ll hang onto this B III. When he was older, I was Moira. Helpfully loving quietly.

My Day Job stories were a lot more appropriate. Despite multiple uses of the word “motherfucker.” In my younger days, my Olds wanted to know about my day, but not really. Now B III, my son, wanted to know everything. Yeah, I’d imagine that’s why he fought against so much. I told you before, people would say it was like B had to protect me. Sophia, when I would pick up a book, that’s when Braxton knew I was at peace. Hell, to think today, I wanted to tell you about the last book Braxton and I read together. Succubus Lord 7. Gospel 212 and Braxton’s last Friday. He didn’t see the end of Succubus Lord 8. Not appropriate anyway. Still, Let’s Book It, Braxton.

229 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 074 ~Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith~

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I said humanity had a duty to survive but considering the direction we’re going in. I know I’m a bad man, and there have been more than enough days wishing I got what was coming to me. It’s ain’t over for me, Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith.

Monday, September 13, 2021

Chronicle 074 ~Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith~

Two-Hundred And Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Every day I say that; such is my faith. But my wallet… I’m mad about twenty bucks.

Hell, I’m angry about math in general. You know that song “What’s My Age Again?” Fucking Emergence Day. I remember where my father was by this age, sigh. Sleeping… nope. Like Sunday, I wake up to see I’ve lost cash on something I never use, something I don’t want. If it’s any consolation, at least it’s better than Yabbos. For the love of money, eh? Speaking of Yabbos, two words, Prom Night. Understand, I’m getting too old for this shit. But Samantha Flair “robbed” me, I’ll have to let Whitney Wright go. Oh, the Yabbos. To have faith in one pair and such faith was misplaced. The others were my bread and butter. What was it I said about feeling good yesterday? Today I’m tired.

Why shouldn’t I be? Do you see what time it is and it’s not for the Day Job? Still, today is all about survival. Most days, I don’t even worry about that much. “Humiliations Galore!” That’s what I want to avoid most days, but of course, today I need to get my haircut. So much for recouping the losses from the thievery. Funny, I think so bad of some chick. Of anybody when I need only say his name. Braxton. Oh, did you think I forgot my son? Talk about Losing My Religion, but we’ll get to that. It’s Day 225. How many more, hmm? As long as I keep myself alive. No, this isn’t living. As always, Madam, these words, are they living, breathing?

It’s like The Scorpion and the Frog, Toad, Boy, Goose, whatever. To cause pain, and yet I had two lives to keep alive, two men that I trusted. If anything, B III had enough faith for the both of us. Honestly, it’s not going back to the days when B III was alive. I want to go back to survival as routine. When I’m not, I hate the man that I am. There’s a rule for that, you know, ok. Rule Four: Hate Will Keep You Alive. Do I need to go into Rule Five? I see why hate is so prominent. As the song goes, I’m only “Human.” That’s in dispute, depending upon who you ask. Braxton isn’t here anymore, but he had/has faith. Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith

225 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 072 ~All Hair B III~

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I lost my crown when the little prince died. Still, my head is heavy, taking a good look around the world. I’m not a military man. I’m not a woman living in TX. When will they break out those white hats? I also need a haircut. All Hair B III yep

Saturday, September 11, 2021

Chronicle 072 ~All Hair B III~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and the first thought that popped into my head was Braxton’s hair. The world’s pretty cruel.

Cruel enough for Tue, September 11, 2001, to happen is what I should say. I was a High School Senior in an English Class. I had too much hair and not enough brains for sure. Lady Luna, keyword being Lady, I could talk about TX’s Abortion Ban. Oh, for the record, I’m Pro-Choice. Outside the confines of the bed, I’m not one for telling women anything. Speaking of Humiliations, I endured yesterday. That’s the last thing I want to do, from Drive-Thru to BOSS orders, ASM. Dammit, you would have thought I would have woke my ass up earlier. Turns out that Yung is right (Blue Gender). When you’re asleep, the monsters can’t get you. Want to “scare” somebody? Say you want to sleep forever.

Or planes smashing into buildings. Things we didn’t think of, as in Sometimes in April; the horror of the Rwanda Genocide. Now Texas meets The Handmaid’s Tale, I see now. “Charlotte’s Rape” in that show Private Practice. Witnessing that, how long did I watch? I still think about that short movie “Soulmates” I saw on Gofobo. The baby, the Notice. What Rachel did to herself in Fear The Walking Dead. Weren’t people disturbed by that? Lady Lu, there’s big news on The Matrix, but um; The Animatrix: The Second Renaissance. Talk about reasons to have a hothead daily. Being angry at the whole world. These horrors being real, not becoming. I don’t want to go outside, but it’s been months since a haircut, plus doggies.

I should be ashamed of hating myself. A few think I should be for crying over B III even now. My Ma said that I’ll have room for good memories. Now it’s Creep, Say Something, Asleep. How about the song Mad World, which makes the most sense? Braxton’s being as Ass. That’s what the groomer hinted at when he was getting washed. Lunalesca, I know. As small as B III was, there’s so much hair. If I stayed in bed too long, I couldn’t breathe. What A Heavenly Way To Die? The colors of Braxton make you appreciate rainbows. The softness of his fur makes you want to reach out to everything… Am I Wrong? Crying for Braxton beats this world. All Hair B III

223 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 071 ~Some Candles B Lit~

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I’m 100% Pro-Choice and Anti-Book Burning. Unless it’s my words, then burn it all. Not Braxton’s story, because he is the only one worth writing about. Now seeing the end of Emergence Week and the humiliations, I avoided, mostly. “Some Candles B Lit”

Friday, September 10, 2021

Chronicle 071 ~Some Candles B Lit~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now because I’m “carrying the fire.” I don’t think I’m ready to read The Road quite yet.

With all the storms that have made their way through, I haven’t ended up reading in the dark. Well, you know what I mean, Lady Sophia. I’m reading about Time Travel and living it now since today is the 9th. Do you know what that means? Nobody picked up the torch. Should I go ahead and say it? “Humiliations Galore!” Before I start crying about the Day Job, how about the last time I saw candles. Fake lit candles, but I still need to buy some. I’ve been saying that for what 222 Days now. Hell, the last thing I got for B III was the Emergence Day dinner, and I continue to be salty about that. The Cheesecake was subpar. It didn’t need candles.

So what was I saying about candles… oh yeah, the day Braxton died. Let’s be clear, he was murdered by me. Sorry, I’m getting all into this, but yet again, it’s my routine. I call the Day Job Hell, so I need to remind myself what it truly is. Opening the door, no B III. Circles Four through Seven have nothing on the Ninth “Treachery.” I burn at the Day Job, and I freeze here. While the power hasn’t gone out, I find myself holed up in the Den, reading yes in the dark. It helps me not to look around for B. Pretending Punishment. Lady Sophia, the things that I do in the light? Yeah, I guess I’m not for Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge.

It would have been something if that horrible meal from Red Lobster killed me PROPER. But the story of the candles. How they had flameless candles and the frame about the Rainbow Bridge. I’ll spare you the image. Enough people want me quiet. Mourning Braxton. There were no candles for Emergence Day. I don’t think Braxton ever saw some candles. If the power did go out, the two of us would nap. I don’t think B feared the dark, well… Then there’s the fire B III lit under my ass along with NaNoWriMo. Better worlds. Lady Sophia, I keep imagining which one he ended up in. Hmm, maybe that’s why I haven’t started cheating with my novel. Should burn it. But Some Candles B Lit

222 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 067 ~Duty Should Not Rule Destiny~

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I can’t promise to do more than survive this week. I didn’t know it was my destiny to be here and if I had my way… Humans have a duty to survive but as far as a “shared” destiny. Braxton should be a part of mine still. Duty Should Not Rule Destiny

Monday, September 6, 2021

Chronicle 067 ~Duty Should Not Rule Destiny~

Two-Hundred And Fourth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I had never met Braxton, I’d take that over fatherhood.

So I know today is about Rule 204, but it’s also Day 218 without B III. Yep, I’m not alright. We could also talk about Year 37, but I’d instead cry over B’s death than my waste of life, I know. Because when I dream of destiny, a concept, an ideology, I remember writing Rule 13. “Power Is All That Matters.” Do I believe that this is my destiny? I’m halfway tempted to go all Forrest Gump. “I didn’t know it, but I was destined to be your daddy.” At the same time, if B were still here, I’d have to ask, “What’s my destiny, son?” I have no clue. Fuck, whatever it is, I know it’s not what I did while showering last night.

To quote Rule 002, “You Are Not A Caveman.” Allow me to be one of the “Cool Kids,” and as Xzibit put it, “Man was made to procreate.” So for a while, I have come to believe this sentiment. For me, the epitome of a man is that of fatherhood.

A man must see to his family always and forever. I didn’t need a woman for that; now that’s not anything against women. Braxton’s love. Madam, I had my son. You know how certain people are about animals. Again Braxton. It was his duty to protect me, Madam, but it was his destiny to love me. Did he? Of course. My duty was to provide; my destiny was to love. As The Beatles sang “All You Need Is Love,” Hmm.

If Life is a Game, Love is the Instructions. I was in the Navy for a couple of weeks. Yes, I’m rambling, but my point is I had a duty to my country but a destiny to love all, right? Madam, every day it’s as if I have to write, but I have the destiny to live as a writer. Does that make any sense? A duty to try but my destiny and another song I just wanna be “Successful.” Going back to rule 002. I have to survive. A caveman could do that. What does it mean to live? When’s the last time I felt alive? I don’t mean Fear, Sex, Pain, but good. Sad, but it won’t be any time this week. Survive. Duty Should Not Rule Destiny

218 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 065 ~B A Little Happy~

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I had little to no control over these ramblings, or so it feels that way. How do I feel today? Going to PetSmart today. Lunch with my bestie, my homegirl… is there a manly way to say that. What little cash for food and “Emergence.” “B A Little Happy”

Saturday, September 4, 2021

Chronicle 065 ~B A Little Happy~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now; because is anyone a trillionaire? Do I need my expectations any higher? I’m not a Dad.

At least not anymore in the dog realm. Nowhere near the TRADITIONAL sense. But as has become my “New Normal,” I’ll stop by PetSmart today, then visit my second BFF. Lady Lu, I don’t mean to sound so down, and it’s only 7:45 AM. So yeah, I’m late as is. Feeling like The Priest from Romeo & Juliet “There art thou happy.” Don’t I need to go back and look up my most hated words? I’m sure Happy was on the list. When B lived? Was I happy, you ask? Hell Lady Lu, anything was better than this. For the past few days, I’ve been biting my tongue. Yesterday I finished the novel “Tampa” by Alissa Nutting. Writers aren’t meant to do as I am.

I mean to mince words for a small mind. Alissa didn’t, but every day I try to move a little bit faster. I make myself out to be smaller. And what, am I ashamed of all that I am? Lady Luna, you have seen what is becoming of this place. On Friday, I even tipped an OnlyFans creator to get my “Stuff And Thangs” promoted and expanded. A “Shower Cam,” yeah. Making money makes me happy? If it did, wouldn’t I feel something for the Day Job? Yet again, I left a note in an attempt to get out of a shift. Preparations for Emergence trouble. The second worse day of my life next to Sunday, January 31, 2021. On the 30th, I watched Braxton.

He wasn’t my happiness. How dare I, right? Nobody can make you happy, but you THEY say. Calm, Peace, Love, that was B III. I still hate the phrase “Live, Laugh, Love,” but to say B? The tiniest thing, and that’s the essence of man, I say. Fatherhood to Manhood. Titans gave creation to Gods. Those Gods made Men. Men sought power over everything, not knowing we gave our hearts to those we sought to own. Dogs? Conan The Barbarian? That’s one of the little things, Lu. At the Day Job, the first thing I would listen to is Braxton’s playlist. Now it’s TBR Schmitt’s reaction to Conan. I’m not happy. In fact, in this “Mad Season,” I feel STUPID. To B A Little Happy?

216 Days Without B III

Chronicle 064 ~History of B Longing~

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Last week I called myself a writer, and that’s without taking a writing class. Most think of me as a Sci-Fi Nerd, Geek, Freak, watch it, but that explains my Second BFF. She has a thing for nerds, whatever. History um, Jan 31. “History of B Longing.”

Friday, September 3, 2021

Chronicle 064 ~History of B Longing~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but this doesn’t allow me to change history. No matter how much I seek erasure, forgiveness.

It’s days like these… what Thursday, Time Travel? When I was young, I loved SCIENCE. Again Time Travel, wanting to raise the dead, and Hell if I die, I want my ashes to become a virus. Everything to be with B sigh, perhaps our ashes would mingle, hating people ha. Of course, Science involves plenty of Math. Well, I’ve spent this afternoon looking at how much money I’ve lost and for what. Writing, we’ll get to that. How about anatomy? If my “Stuff And Thangs” is any sign. Today I did write out my dream. The Science of it, okay. As close to the subject as I’ll ever get again. Sci-Fi references and defending never having another furry life in my hands. Never again, Sophia.

Because I’ve spent 215 days WRITING about the son I lost. I don’t believe I have ever taken a Writing class before; junior college? Of course, you’re saying that’s quite obvious with how I can never stay on subject. You could also look to yourself and the girls; now B. Baby Braxton always wanted more time with me, a man of few words he was. Only I gave myself over to them. I’ve been down here since 8 AM, and talking to you will account for 2000. I haven’t even left my seat. I should, I’m sure English teachers would approve. What about my next novel for the Big Show? NaNoWriMo in November. Am I hoping to cheat? Remember French?

Yet when I was in school, my subject was HISTORY. As you know, I feel some kinda way about my father, but he was ready to fight a History teacher for me. Calling me Professor. I don’t forget that my son is dead. How many times will I say it, Lady Sophia? Have I mentioned somebody else is sick of me talking about it? Oh, and lunch with B’s Aunt. Emergence Day is coming up fast, and what do I do before each one? CLEAN. I never took a Home Ec. course, and why would I decide to start tidying up? This was B’s home. It’s never another day, Lady Sophia. Each is brand new, trying to find a way to live without him. My lessons, History of B Longing.

215 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 060 ~Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations~

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This should be a longer, like B’s life. At least I’ll say it. I don’t ask for the young to die so I can make some sort of statement. To think there was a time in my life I wanted to be the Secretary of Defense. Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations.

Monday, August 30, 2021

Chronicle 060 ~Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations~

Two-Hundred And Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I wish I had done it sooner. Tomorrow would be good.

Tomorrow as today is Thursday, August 26, 2021. More Time Travel. Now would be a decent time to bring up Rule Number Two, “You Are Not A Caveman.” Only today’s rule is so damn usual in a world of kids dying so old white men can allow plagues, own guns. Hell, I want to be a daddy someday; I was to Braxton. The odds of B III outliving me? All I know is he should have lived longer. That is my failure and my disgrace. Thus my shame. I don’t bury children lightly, not like the men and women I see every day on TV. I don’t want to get all political, Madam; I want to be real, but manhood’s purpose is family. That’s a man to me. Be that.

I’m a man, as Nicolas D. Wolfwood put it. With the loss of my child, yeah, I said it. Braxton, “He’s My Son.” With his death, I’m not like… Do you remember Hurricane Katrina? Black people lost their homes, and then they were made out to be refugees? Politics Madam. Anyway, I was never meant to make it this far. I’m about to be thirty-seven and with what I’ve done. Years of suicide attempts, not now. The lot of them I tried to hurt my father. It’s not like he would have cared, but maybe Madam maybe, shock, humiliation, failure. There was no shame when Braxton left me, for he fought with everything he had. He wanted to live. I didn’t, like father like son.

My father lives with his shame of a son, and that’s the thing, ain’t it? I live. I would have gladly died instead of my son. I was always worried about leaving B III alone. I talked to B III today (again Thursday), and I had an epiphany about why I’m still eating. Because no one will ever say he died because of his dog. How hard is it for anyone to understand this from Denzel Washington in John Q

“I AM NOT GOING TO BURY MY SON! MY SON IS GOING TO BURY ME!”

People, no, politicians have no shame. The young and the old don’t die for your power. For 211 Days, I would die for love. Others? Young Deaths Equals Older Humiliations

An old man dies. A little dog lives. A fair trade. I love you, Braxton

211 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will