Chronicle 113 ~Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’~

It’d be less humiliating to be on my knees to God than how the Day Job had me crawling around Thu. Ironic that it was the shoe lady that had me doing that. What I wouldn’t give to be on the floor playing with B again. Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’

Friday, October 22, 2021

Chronicle 113 ~Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I always have a soft place to land when I fall flat on my face.

So with my Republican ideology. I wish I could bury my head in the sand after yesterday’s humiliations. I did get off the Day Job early but let’s not forget I don’t even have money. This means I’m less than dirt, or should I say lint, as I’m lying in bed all day again. I should go shopping, but I’m already making up excuses. No, the word should be “Lying.” I would have been better off lying there and letting people step all over me. Hell, I was on the floor replacing those damn soft mats. I can do both; indeed, I followed through Sophia. Let’s focus on the lies, though. The fact that I thought, “I’m Gonna Be Somebody.” Now that would be Braxton.

There were days when Braxton would curl up beside my head, and I could go blind with all his hair. I would take one of the days when he would step on my face. How about the lies B would tell to get me to follow him and attempt to do something with this existence? With him around, I had to walk the straight and narrow path because where’s Braxton? Sophia, I try that at my Day Job, ok. Once again, I’m a fucking joke. I hate it there always. What have I been doing all this morning, making mistakes, and why? Comfy spots SIGH. Be it burgers, books, boobs, I spent how much again? The bucks better be there, or is $12.00 hourly it?

“The pessimist looks down and hits his head. The optimist looks up and loses his footing. The realist looks forward and adjusts his path accordingly.”
― The Walking Dead, 07×02

Was my Manager lying to me? It wouldn’t be the first time. Let’s focus on my lie, though. Which was, I wouldn’t be able to get fries for Braxton yesterday. As you can see, ta-da. What would have happened if I had this drive while Braxton was alive? B’s waiting. Another way of lying to myself so I don’t have to look. B III’s in the den waiting for fries. I stay in the dark so I can pretend he’s lying somewhere, and I have to look out for him. Days like yesterday say I should follow him and let his barking drive away, the noise. B III breathing did too. His lies that I’m a good Daddy I can forgive. Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’

264 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 106 ~B A Man Because~

Um, good news, I got promoted, bad news, somebody thinks I should be in charge. Worse news, Braxton has been gone 257 days, and he was much more of a man than me. But he wouldn’t like my Day Job either or how I’m living now. B A Man Because

Friday, October 15, 2021

Chronicle 106 ~B A Man Because~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but is that how I judge success? Dennis Hof, Gary Paulsen, Rodzil LaBraun, hell, Seong Gi-hun.

Alas, I am only me. I wish I could be B; that is, if I can’t have him back. Yet one more apology I owe him. I’ve spoken about choosing everything over him. Now with yesterday’s events. I would have come back, hugged him close, and fell asleep terrified and enraged. I present the question again, Sophia, is this how I judge success? If anything, I’m more like Spiderman; I don’t feel so good. This is dangerous to say but like Spontaneous, to explode. The Tomorrow War, to be thrown into another time. Spiderman drifted away. No, I don’t fear being somebody, Lady Sophia. I’ve sung about wanting to be “Successful.” Yet I’m sitting here in bed, without even a swallow of sugar-free Root Beer.

Relax, I’ll go to the store today despite waking up late. 5:00 AM is pretty damn late. I can’t make ignoring my alarm part of my routine. If I had forgotten my phone Wednesday like I had ignored Braxton, I wouldn’t even be in this mess. Temporary, the manager said. Okay, so what’s the problem? Thursday, I got promoted to a position for the holidays. Fuck, I don’t even know the title. Of course, you know I can’t stand the holidays from E-Day to the rest of the year. And they’re multiplying. What will I call B III’s leaving life? Today I don’t even know what to call myself. So why did I do it? The money, staying in the stockroom, fear of people, yep.

Dennis Hof and Rodzil LaBraun told women what to do. R.I.P. Gary Paulsen, who wrote one of my top ten favorite books, told characters what to do. Yes, Rodzil is a writer but of harem erotica. Who knows what Gi-hun is going to do? No Squid Game spoilers from me. Only last night, I didn’t dream of that. I dreamt of someone in the house again, and I got my gun and chased them into Braxton’s room. They were trapped, and if they left, I’d blast them. That’s when I woke up. I saw the guy, a black hoodie, smiling yet scared. Lady Sophia, it was me. Acceptance equals death; that’s the meaning. Success too, but Braxton isn’t here. My turn. B A Man Because

257 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 099 ~I Should B Writing~

Let’s start with, I should be getting up in the morning for things other than what my soul despises. Hell, I wasn’t sleeping at all when B III needed me. A lie, the first day he cried, I told him to shush it. I need to remember. “I Should B Writing.”

Friday, October 8, 2021

Chronicle 099 ~I Should B Writing~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I might be if I wasn’t up at 11:00 AM. I’m always writing the negative.

I should be writing you about surviving the Day Job. I’m not telling THEM but you, Lady Sophia. I’m sorry about my job performance. Um, I don’t even know if I fucked up or not. I’m learning my first instinct; 9 out of 10 is wrong. But I’m sure I’ll hear it all next week. Ok, with what I was doing on Friday, January 29, 2021? Um, so It’s back to that, isn’t it? I should have been writing checks or more like dolling out the cash before then. But as always, I like someone else’s writing. The bank said I had money. Thanks, government. After that day, I had plenty of writing before “The End.” Now, every day, I wish, I wish, I wish…

R. Kelly isn’t a role model. You’re not Inspector Echo, but if you want a confession, his music is still good. Only these days I’ve been watching, more like listening to reactions of Squid Game. Why don’t I write a review of it or one of A.J. Markam’s Succubus novels? Hell, I can’t even tell you a story of keeping “it” in my pants. Well, I could have earlier this morning if you wonder where I’ve been. Besides sleeping the day away, it’s been about “Stuff and Thangs.” I made it the week, but Inspector Echo didn’t know… Time Travel. Now I won’t go into who caused the mess, well me. Yet at the moment, I don’t want to speak on ahem, Girls, Girls, Girls.

Should I be writing about how much I miss the music? How long has it been since I listened to Braxton’s playlist or The B III Roll? The only songs I have looping are “Fly Me To The Moon,” sung by Joo Won. And “Easy Street” The Collapsable Hearts Club feat. Jim Bianco and Petra Haden. Now like Spontaneous, playing in Squid Game seems tolerable. I was about to say it beats talking about Braxton… How dare I!!! I get emails about other furbabies, but whenever it comes to the application? I can’t put my name down or anything else. Even them sending me messages is one more sign of my Treachery. Like in school, I should be writing I’m sorry. I Should B Writing.

250 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 092 ~A B Fitting Title~

Truth, Life, Braxton, Denial, Father, Dog, Man, Knowledge, Lady Sophia, Chronicle, Story, Writer, Will Bradford Jr., Marquis De Joker, History, The End, Women, Pain, Dæmon, Guilt, Books, 243, Better Worlds, Titles, NaNoWriMo

Friday, October 1, 2021

Chronicle 092 ~A B Fitting Title~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but people wouldn’t say, “Hey, it’s the billionaire.” Never call me STUPID again, for damn sure.

Braxton didn’t call me anything, but he did call. I guess as the song goes, “Tonight I Wanna Cry,” or this morning at least. I got up on time for once and made the bed to avoid temptation. Hell, things that get me going… fear of the Day Job, a pretty girl, a sick dog. A Step Towards Humiliations Galore, Getting Right To The Point, The Man With The Floorplan. I’ve never been good with book titles, or how about novel writing in general, Lady Sophia? NaNoWriMo officially begins November so resorting to cheating, right? Yeah, have I forgotten my laziness? Or is this procrastination with a three-hour head start that I got this morning? Again, there’s making the bed, a Pop-Tart, pictures, and Goodreads.

Everything to avoid talking to Monsieur B, 243 Days Ago. In his book “My Turn To B III,” I said all his titles. And how he came running, right up until the end. Then I was the one that followed him but not into the dark. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, the farm, so on. Lady Sophia, I also wrote about all his jobs. Anything to talk about how tired I always am. Even now, or the aftermath of again avoiding a sad story. I finished Connected Souls, yesterday which only leaves a dirty book to read. I swear no Succubus, Dragon, or Pokémon could ever match The Wee Little Puppy Man I let down. B was/is my hero. Even better, Braxton Is Legend. And Love…

Oh, so should I add Plagiarism to my list of crimes. Every time I speak to you, Lady Sophia, any of the girls, Braxton, or the man in the mirror. Hemmingway or my other app tells me to shut up. Braxton never did, but I know that he appreciates fine literature. Sophia, that, if anything, is a reason to keep writing. Should I be selfish and mention my bank account? For now, I need a title for my next novel. To be fair, I could use an entire idea. So could the WWE, too, when it comes to stories of champions. Billionaire, Hero, Champion, Legend… I want to be Daddy again but not to any fur baby. My Pancake, my Braxton. A B Fitting Title

243 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 090 ~2B Or Not To~

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 085 ~It’s Empty B Cause~

Like Father like Son. I’m running on empty and still trying to say something of value. Braxton was dying, and he continued to love so much he stayed beside me. He loved himself enough to walk to his water bowl. “It’s Empty B Cause,” nothing it’s full

Friday, September 24, 2021

Chronicle 085 ~It’s Empty B Cause~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. If I hope to remain so, I know I can’t have days like yesterday or today.

In the back of my mind, the “thought” was there, but we’ll get to that in a bit. I don’t want to go blaming Braxton for anything. Only the house is emptier. I guess I decided to take the night off from playing the beast, and instead, I was a vampire. This morning a ghost. Yeah, I’m still up to my “Stuff and Thangs on Onlyfans. It’s not even like I want to be seen. Well, you could ask M Anime. But I’m not one for a certain kind of picture sending. I’m not STUPID, Sophia, but we’ll get to that too. As for other things in my pants, money? No, even though I got paid. For dinner, I had four bags of chips ha.

Oh, I always have money but between gaming and books. I’m trying to keep up with The Handmaid’s Tale, but I’ll still remain ignorant on life. Yeah, if I could stay awake to live it. My bed is empty right now, but I was up most of the night. B could be keeping it warm. I should get clean, but what are the odds, Lady Sophia. So much to do and no desire at all. Pleasing an empty stomach? Worse is the blank my mind is drawing. I’m filling out. Yesterday M Anime said that, and my answer is? Working out, eating; to be fat, happy? Sophia, I wish I could remember why I even wanted to start talking to you like this after Braxton.

I want to tell his story. I have 50,000 words, and there is even more? I need to refill my Amazon balance and start buying more for Braxton instead of only books. The Red Collar. My skin remains empty of tattoos. Braxton’s water bowl is never empty. His bathroom spot and food dish are never filled. I won’t remove his things from the kitchen counter. This brings me to the AM as I paid tribute, and I saw B’s bucket of treats. I’m “Running On Empty,” and it doesn’t make sense to buy more. Is anything I do ever, Sophia? Writing, for example, going to Petsmart on Saturdays, being on camera, love, however, it’s sliced? My heart’s not empty. It’s broken. It’s Empty B Cause

236 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 083 ~I’ll B Home Later~

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 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

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

Gospel 222 ~Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets~

I don’t know what’s worst than saying Braxton’s gone, my son is dead. Everything that has been said and not, nothing will trump that. Yet in life, we keep some things to ourselves, right? “Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets,” right

Monday, February 8, 2021

Gospel 222 ~Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets~

Hundred And Seventy-Forth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should have plenty of secrets. You know I do, but for the first time in forever, I don’t care. I’ve told you the worst thing I’ve ever done. Madam Justice, I’ll keep saying it. I killed my son, Braxton is dead because of me. For my failure at being his father, he paid with his life. I’m scared, of course. At the same time, I’ve got nothing left to lose. Why should I care about anything else? What makes me a man has nothing to do with, as the song goes, Underneath Your Clothes.

Take away a man’s son, you’ve truly given him nothing left to lose. – Zombieland

I also don’t have to sing “I Wish It Would Rain,” for I am not ashamed of crying. Hell, it might help to feel anger. It’s been one week; well, it’s Saturday now. Who am I to talk about the stages of grief? I haven’t cried like this since… I don’t know; I’m in Denial. It’s one of the reasons I won’t share this more publicly. I’m not my father. Didn’t I tell you before? I could still feel Braxton’s warmth, and he’s all like, “get a new dog.” He’s lost two, and I don’t recall batting an eye, but I didn’t say, “oh well.” Then his mother died um. Nothing ever hid his hatred towards me. I’ve heard the Christians talk about putting on the whole “Armor of God.” It would do nothing to shield me from my anxiety. Give me dog hair any day of the week. Still, I walked in with Braxton, and I walked out alone.

I bore my soul to the world, and what of Braxton’s? Haven’t I said I would have saved or sold mine to keep his? I haven’t cared about my body since. Only I keep dressing, going to the Day Job, I took a shower somehow. Um, does any of this have to do with the rule? Honestly, I haven’t looked; I mean, really seen a woman since the vets had mercy on Braxton. I still have Twitter, of course, and artistic endeavors. To be honest, I haven’t been checking the bank except to shop online for food. How will I ever go into Walmart Sunday? Women hide things, and I’m a man hell with nothing more. Fatherhood, heart, balls, Braxton

No one knows what it’s like… ha, plenty know. But, Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 215 ~Act From Desire Not Insecurity~

I don’t know why I’m writing this or if it’ll make sense; after what happened Sunday. I don’t know. Hope for the best, plan for the Worst. In my universe, that means one thing… my son, and the things I may have decided. Act From Desire Not Insecurity

Monday, February 1, 2021

Gospel 215 ~Act From Desire Not Insecurity~

Hundred And Seventy-Third Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but tell me I still have a son? Madam Justice, this is not the time to be looking towards the future, and yet here I am. What I think of him, do for him, are not desires but necessities. I want him to live, yes you could call that a desire. It’s the word LIVE that we should focus on, though. What about Insecurity? No, let’s call it what it is, Fear. What might happen or has? Yes, there is or was Fear, the wonders of time-travel. Anyway, in helping him in one way or another, I do it, no hesitation, Justice.

I could tell you so many things that get me up in the morning. You can take my Day Job as an example. I have no desire to go, but why do I act? There’s a yawn from my son as I lie here. Do I see it today, or is it but a memory? I get so insecure when it comes to my job. Should I change the rule? It is not desire nor any fear. Again it is a necessity. I’m not much for singing, but I will tell you what’s on my mind. As Disney puts it, The Bare Necessities. Um, maybe more to the tune of, it’s too hard living, but I’m afraid to die, Sam Cooke. Madam Justice, out of anyone in this world, it is my son. I don’t care about my life. Hell, tomorrow I’m supposed to talk to Dear Future Wife. What drives me now? Right now, this Saturday is the little ball of fluff lying here fading away, struggling to remain.

I wonder what drives him? He has learned too much from his old man; he knows Fear. Is it over his body? He may not take it that far, and he’s only thinking about jumping off the bed. I want to believe it is his desire not to leave me. How will another replace him?
Never, all I know is I want him here, and no Fear will stop me if I must lie beside him as he departs. I can’t see the future, so who knows if any of this will make sense in a day. I Will him to live, but I desire no more pain for him.

Whatever I do or did… Act From Desire Not Insecurity.

I Will Have No Fear