Tag: Wrath

Chronicle 048 ~B Rating My Tears~

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My father would kick my ass for crying. I don’t remember the last time I cried, and it wasn’t about B III. 199 days now, and every single one, there have been some tears. At least it’s a moment in time I’m not sleeping my life away. B Rating My Tears

Wednesday, August 18, 2021

Chronicle 048 ~B Rating My Tears~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be making a good start if my tears cost a dollar at least.

A penny for my thoughts, but I’m not The Band Perry. If I Die Young, no such luck. I’m an old man Inspector Echo and once again repeating myself, so was Braxton. But he is always my baby. Every thought, well okay, that’s a lie but plenty, bring the waterworks. The same week I was finishing an A.J. Markham novel; I also read The Last Astronaut by Chris Dietzel. Short story made shorter, it’s about a man fleeing into space because of a cat. THEY say no one can hear you scream. Now, most of the story people couldn’t or wouldn’t. I know you must be getting sick of me talking about it. Here I am on a Sunday afternoon, knowing What Hurts The Most.

The Band Perry and now Rascal Flatts. If I wanted to cry today, I would listen to He’s My Son. I’ve already had my cry session today out of the blue. I should be ashamed when it comes to “Stuff And Thangs.” How about whatever humiliation happened Day Job wise. I’m writing this early after realizing how easy it would be to put up a gallery about Braxton, and I haven’t on Day 199. At least I know what I’ll be crying about on Thursday. 200 Days without Braxton. Tony Baker’s son died. That man’s stronger than me, no doubt. Inspector, he talks about his village but as for me… I wish I had a friend like Subotai from Conan The Barbarian. Cry for me

Inspector, when I’m crying, I’m not sleeping. It took The Last Astronaut decades to think Happy Thoughts about his cat, Bob. In “The Tomorrow War,” Dan got to see his daughter again. Some happy tears for M Anime, who turns thirty-three today, third best friend. Carolina Bound told me that if her husband wasn’t crying when she walked down the aisle. She would have walked right back up without him. To have happy tears, I’ll have to remember to fetch the dictionary. Never will be ahem; Happy Emergence Day. Yet, I wonder why I’m not “Successful” for all my blood, sweat, and tears. Does happiness take as much out of you as rage and sadness? If I’m lucky, I won’t go B Rating My Tears.

199 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 041 ~B Side Me Driving~

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Is there anything worse than being STUPID? I suppose being dead, but I know plenty of wise dead men. I sat beside one for 15 +years. But for his genius, he feared getting in the car. Hell, I’m 36 and will be 37 when again? B Side Me Driving

Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Chronicle 041 ~B Side Me Driving~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’ve always debated whether I would ever drive again. Limos, have to come with drivers?

Now I’m not here to debate driverless cars. Dealing with one other driver was enough for me Monday. As I said, I’m not going to forget that ever. Which leads me to my first sin of what, today? I’ve had to commit several, which is why I’m talking on Tuesday. Driving is a necessary evil. I‘m not turning into Sheldon Cooper, considering I’ve been driving for decades… Jesus, what’s my age again? So my sin is not the fact that I could have hurt someone. I’m glad I didn’t, but I’ve cried more over B III than some old lady. My sin is the fact that I won’t get over my STUPIDITY. Reasons for Self-Harm 101 ahem, my father, Braxton, and everything I consider STUPID.

So the world is one gigantic torture chamber. I spoke about a lot of movies yesterday or today (Tuesday). I can’t watch any film that’s STUPIDITY for STUPIDITY’S sake. For the record, I wasn’t on my phone or anything when the collision happened. Blaming myself? I don’t even know if I should, though the lady seemed to think it was my fault. I didn’t claim guilt, but what I find fault in the fact that I still draw breath? The Day Job, the lady, the cop if dude decided to beat my black ass (dude didn’t). My Olds. Braxton’s Death. Inspector Echo, it’s all my fault, and I deserve to be punished. But like the song, “I said, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.”

Fuck me, I was a better driver with Braxton. I should have started a list of reasons I need him. I could sum that up in one word, LIFE. Save my Braxton, save the world. Speaking of yet another reason to like The Tomorrow War. By loving one beast, I could hate myself a little bit less. I’ve said it, as I hated the world and myself, that killed Braxton. Driving with him, seeing as he would never sit down, I had to slow down. I wasn’t rushing to get out of the way. While I wanted to get “home,” well, Braxton was my heart. Was I looking for a reason to finally face justice? I won’t ever be A-ok. But B Side Me Driving

192 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 034 ~B Leave, You Asked~

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I shouldn’t jinx myself on wanting to be a father. 15 years ago, I didn’t know what I wanted, and now seven months later, I’m not sure what I’ve got. I know I’d give these days back for Braxton. Only this is “my” life. “B Leave, You Asked” but didn’t

Wednesday, August 4, 2021

Chronicle 034 ~B Leave, You Asked~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and before you get on me about the title… Let’s not talk about the Basic Bitch.

Remember “Autumn Leaves,” that’s how this blog got up in the first place. Braxton leaves too, well, on Sunday, January 31, 2021. A day which will live in infamy, as does this fact. I never asked to be Braxton’s Daddy. Don’t get me wrong, Echo, B blessed me 15 years. Only I never asked for him. That’s what I was musing about at the Day Job today. Johnny Cash sings in HURT, “What have I become.” He never asked for such a life, I take it. How about Kid Rock’s ONLY GOD KNOWS WHY? “You get what you put in, and people get what they deserve.” Did he ask for the life he made? A life decision; what he asked? I didn’t ask for Braxton.

While I was humiliated yet again, “Tuesday,” I wasn’t asking for ideas. Who would ask to waste their life at my Day Job for a decade, and yet there I was. Inspector, here I am. Dammit, who would ask to be sitting here in bed with no signs of a future? Let’s keep the tunes running with R. Kelly’s I WISH. “Y’all look at me and say, boy, you’ve been blessed. But y’all don’t see the inside of my unhappiness.” I keep saying Inspector who asked. Should I say it was Braxton because it didn’t matter to him as long as we were together, Echo? It wasn’t his choice to die. I made that decision, and I didn’t ask. Asking to be a murderer?

That’s why I should be quiet? No, because when I am, life gives me all these things I didn’t ask for. At the same time, if I open my mouth to speak, what good is accomplished? Wanting a job to hold me over when I’m asking for time and again what do I do with it. Well, I’m still talking to you when I should be reading because I’m damn exhausted. Looking for something to do so I got someone to love. Yeah, I was looking for Yabbos for one night, and instead, I got four paws sharing my bed for 15 years. Fuck some Yabbos. Hell, if Braxton wanted anything, it would be for me to give up sleep. I couldn’t. B Leave, You Asked.

185 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 027 ~Not Another Word… B~

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I wrote so early and posted it so late. I cannot fail my son again. Only, I’ve spent all the rest of this day in bed and before that… well I time travel? As the song goes, My Lazy Ass, but I have been writing about my son. “Not Another Word… B”

Wednesday, July 28, 2021

Chronicle 027 ~Not Another Word… B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that’s because I don’t make excuses. Today has been pretty humiliating. I haven’t lived it.

I am, of course, talking about Saturday the 24th. If I was a betting man, I would put money on the fact that Wednesday hasn’t been anything to talk about. Oh, I have done plenty of talking today, right here from bed. If Braxton were here, this couldn’t stand. Inspector, I wouldn’t blame him in the slightest for bitching me out. Okay, I’d tell Braxton to shush it, but I would deserve it. You heard me right about being in bed all day. The farthest I have walked was to fetch my computer. The world, Sick Sad World Inspector. I wish I could tell you it was other people; good, they may be, who had the problems. All my dicking around watching Girlfriend Reviews SIGH.

I’m not sick. Well, physically, I hope. Um, the last time I went out, and that was for BBQ, E. Mentally, the best psychiatrist I ever had was B III, and somehow he made everything okay for me. Now my head is a mess, and all I know is, I did worse today than yesterday. It also didn’t help that I got all in about the day Braxton died. To think that I could cover all of that in one chapter of his novel, about 2,500 words. If I want more shame, how about the fact that I haven’t finished the damn thing yet? When I reread this, what? Inspector Echo, do I expect to be done? If I was doing 5000 words these days?

No, Friday it was only 3100 words, so I could not watch The Olympics. You know what I mean, I diddled on my phone all evening and did some security. Speaking of which, you see the alerts that have been going off. Inspector Echo I want to say “disappear,” careful. I was reminded of that time with the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Besides Braxton being gone, what else can I say? In a few minutes, I will get up and honor my son as always. I’ll eat some sour worms, get the mail, come back and read. Routine dear Echo. But I am once again failing Braxton. I’m failing everybody. B bothers me more, Inspector. How I wish he was here. Not Another Word… B

178 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 020 ~B, Wear The Sandman~

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We don’t stop when we’re tired. We stop when we’re done. B III was tired, but I was the one who told him when he was done. And now 171 Days… I need only look at my old computer “desk” lined with treats what have I done. B, Wear The Sandman.

Wednesday, July 21, 2021

Chronicle 020 ~B, Wear The Sandman~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I’m going to stay awake… All you need do is tell me B III’s sick what would I do.

My Lazy Ass should be criminalized. If not today, then indeed Tuesday, January 26, 2021. The day before, I saw anything that B III had five days left. Now here I am arriving early, Time-Travel Echo. You know what that means; the Day Job is kicking my ass yet again. Well, not really. You should have seen me yesterday; I do mean Monday. When it comes to the Day Job, no problem. While I was fixing dinner, I decided to work on “Stuff And Thangs.” Oh, how easy was that. Yet when it came to talking about my boy, Braxton. “Dammit, vaccines” is something I want to say. Should I have warned Carolina Bound before she took the plunge? Hell, it’s not the COVID vaccine.

Some motivations were talking about how a man will come up with an excuse. I’m starting to worry that I won’t finish B III’s Novel before the end of the month, surprise surprise. I’m An Asshole, as the song goes. I’m Fucking up Six Impossible Things always and forever, yep. What madness is it that I have the Day Job which I hate? I talk to you and the girls, but nobody sees. I share my naughty bits, and Maitland Ward did subscribe um woohoo! But the one thing that matters, like when B III lived, I throw it to the wayside. My god Echo. Who’s the one who should R.I.P. If it was between Braxton and me? We both know the answer to that.

I Don’t Fear The Reaper Inspector Echo. Braxton was on the lookout for him, too, while guarding the door. In the novel, I keep talking about “My Turn.” When Braxton was asleep, I was looking out for him. I shared because Braxton never gave me less than his whole heart. Even when it was barely beating, B walked to his water. He went under the bed because he knew I was worrying over him. He crawled into my lap because he knew I needed him. And if we had walked out of that office, my B III would’ve always come running. These days though, as the song goes, the dreams in which I’m dying. I wish I could tell Braxton this. B, Wear The Sandman

171 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 013 ~Could Use Braxton’s Battery~

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Isn’t it only women that worry about how they look sleeping? I’m too tired to worry about being sexist or not even being as WOKE as I am. Anyway, no one could ever sleep as cute as B III. Now that’s sad, considering… Could Use Braxton’s Battery.

Wednesday, July 14, 2021

Chronicle 013 ~Could Use Braxton’s Battery~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but if I were back then, I would have had eyes on Braxton 24/7, 365 easy.

I’m sorry most of my pictures are of Braxton sleeping. It took me seeing him die for five days to keep up with him. Even then, he would not tolerate me making things easier for him. I still see him, my Baby B, getting up on his own four legs going to his water bowl. It was like in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine 4×26 “Broken Link.” Odo was ill and could barely walk, but he went out like a man, in front of everyone, fighting for every step, yep. How about Best of the Best, when Alex dislocated his shoulder and somehow got back in the ring, fought, and won. B III would have kept fighting for life if I had brought him home.

I wish I could say that watching YouTube or movies like Men of Honor is what I’ve been doing. Oh yeah, Inspector Echo, my time is so precious that I sleep the days away, ok. Yeah, I’m usually unconscious as I lie here in my bed, getting a faint whiff of B even after 164 Days. One day the smell will disappear, and what will I do, Inspector? No recharge? Speaking of which, I have another excuse for you. For two days straight, I’ve been trying to fix the car with my father. The first day cost me my NaNoWriMo daily badge. Yesterday I didn’t work at all. I threw in B III’s letters giving me 10,000 words. I’m behind. So I’m failing my son.

Now, this isn’t new. There’s Braxton, my second best friend, my third best friend, “Stuff And Thangs,” my father. I’m treating this like I’m some heroic survivor in the Andes. The only person I’m eating is my future self. I lack energy for any sexiness. I’m so thankful, but I’m also lying knowing that when the mood strikes me like any film, novel, or song. Hell, that’s the problem; who’s watching or listening to me other than Braxton from wherever. Inspector Echo, will I always hate looking in mirrors? The way Braxton saw me and would run over my head with his paws if I didn’t get up on time. Triple B was my life. But to give that up writing? Could Use Braxton’s Battery

164 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 006 ~Bleep, Blah, But Braxton~

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I look at myself in the mirror when I can stand it, and I want to scream, “Shut The Eff Up.” The good news is, that’s not often. I have no qualms about my body, but my face is a whole other story. Braxton had a cute face. “Bleep, Blah, But Braxton.”

Wednesday, July 7, 2021

Chronicle 006 ~Bleep, Blah, But Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and with that amount of money, hmm. I’d get my teeth fixed or just shut up.

Living was so much easier when I was apologizing to Braxton. We’re on day 157, and I haven’t stopped seeking forgiveness. Oh, I learned my lesson, Braxton; my boy’s gone. I’ve been thinking about all the apologies I owe, and I’m not like the former president. All this morning, it was fuck this, fuck that, and with everything I got going on these days. It’s how the THEY say, I’ve got no fucks left to give. Everything I have, all that I am, should be going into B’s novel, and already I’m way behind. I’ve got all this time, Inspector. Of course, this morning, I spent it gaming and on “Stuff & Thangs.” Hell, I didn’t even post, and I fucked-up again. After three days

I did write about 2,000 words, but it’s more of the same I’ve been spouting for, yes 157 Days. I’m starting to feel less like Charlie Brown and more like one of the adults, “waah.” So besides breaking my streak of, you know what, I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut. I’m talking to myself again, which is even sadder because I could at least preach at B III. No, I’m not moving towards that most dreaded word, even worse than STUPID. The big A Inspector Echo… ACCEPTANCE. Never, I say again, never. I keep crying and laying treats, hating myself even more now with all this free time I have going doing nothing. Well, of course, failing, but that’s more of my blah.

Then there’s Saturday, where if I’m lucky, my second vaccine dose may finally kill me. That’s not a joke Inspector Echo. You know me, I love my mask and hate my big mouth. As the song goes, “Hey Jealousy.” Do you remember Cherry? Well, she’s got a podcast. What oh what have been my accomplishments, I ask. A few novels for NaNoWriMo, uh, all unpublished? I have a job I hate and everything else I do to make money, well, have I made any ever? Braxton, being his father, and of course, we know how that ended. So for Saturday… Somehow if I don’t die, I’m having lunch with Braxton’s aunt, Carolina Bound. What shall we talk about? Yeah, I’m sorry, Bleep, Blah, But Braxton.

157 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 364 ~Better B Next Month~

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It’s strange when I have to start a new pile of treats. Five piles for five months since Braxton “went away.” February to June, and what have I accomplished. What am I fixin’ to do as I couldn’t fix him with four years of writing? Better B Next Month

Wednesday, June 30, 2021

Gospel 364 ~Better B Next Month~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… yeah, and what year was it I was listening to all those motivations? A Million-dollar year

If I had done so, would B be alive? Now that’s the type of question that plagues me every morning. Another would have to be, am I even going to get up and try to do something with my life. Why am I going to the Day Job when I fucking hate everyone there, Echo? B, B, and oh yeah, B. When I was young, I remember seeing this somewhere. You should pick C when you don’t know the answer for any multiple choice. So here I am saying FML, am I right? As I finally did get up and I honored my son, I saw five months have passed. Honoring Braxton, what have I done, Inspector Echo? It’s like “Last Christmas” all over again.

B’s become an errand on my to-do list. Wasn’t he always but back then, I was an A-Hole, now THEY would only call me mad. Either way, I can’t stop even after these five months. Hell, I’ve been more dedicated than when B III was here. Those last few days, on top of being sick and tired of dying, he felt the same way about me, my running behind him. I’ve had plenty of girls accuse me of being obsessive, stalkerish, scary. I was the damn Grim Reaper when it came to Braxton. You know my biggest problem Inspector, TIME. I think I have all the time in the world and when I get time, like two whole days, what do I do with them.

“Just one more year, and then you’d be happy,” as the song goes. How long have I been writing with only this blog? Five years Inspector Echo, five years starting Friday. All that time, I was telling B I would give him everything. How much time with him I wasted? Braxton didn’t live to see February, his sweet sixteen, and all the money when he wanted time. Dammit, I selfishly tried to make up for it with five days when he couldn’t do anything. Well, hiding from the Reaper, showing him with love that he was going to die soon. From Six Impossible Things to a brand new year of writing. What will I do, when will I do it, Echo? Better B Next Month

150 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 357 ~Be The Needle B~

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My arm hurts like Hell and then gets itchy. The thing is, I’m Still Standing, as the song goes. The last needles I saw before the one I got… They were for Braxton, and look how that turned out. Be The Needle B. Too bad mine are making me better?

Wednesday, June 23, 2021

Gospel 357 ~Be The Needle B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I guess I’ll grow a business acumen at some point. I rather raise Braxton.

B III made it to fifteen though I was putting my money on twenty. Hell, who am I kidding? If I had the money I strive for, I would have been figuring out a way for Braxton to outlive me at least. I hope the government ain’t lying about the price tag of a FREE Vaccine. So am I going to spend the whole week talking about getting it? As the song goes, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” I focused so much on myself 143 Days ago. As you and everyone else knows, I love my son, and I try to talk about the good times, ok. I think enough songs have hinted that love hurts sometimes. But Braxton, he loved me.

I’m sure he didn’t like me all those times I laughed at him at Banfield. It’s the same story you’ve heard a million times. “Are you going to walk in like a man, or do I have to carry you?” Every time, I was freaking out, being honest. Geez, I wonder how my Olds felt. Braxton was going there to get better, to get stitched up. How many of us like needles, Inspector Echo? Unlike the sewing kits I found in cookie tins, I always knew each needle B III felt had a good purpose. I’d see the candles, the picture frame’s message, but Braxton. The point of a pen, my fingers, the red bandage around his leg. There were three needles Inspector, 1, 2…

That’s what they say I need Inspector Echo to survive. I get two doses of the Vaccine, and then I can ditch the mask. My mask? There’s dog hair, my hoodies, anything with NaNoWriMo, and then the masks when it comes to the things I wear. I’m losing all my shields. The cloth that came with Braxton’s remains; I haven’t looked in that box again since the day he came home. There’s no treat in there, only what was once my best friend. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men as THEY say. Braxton’s hair around here fades. Today “Saturday,” I sat there as they made sure I didn’t die but if I had. I wouldn’t mind; I’ve said, Be The Needle B.

143 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 350 ~Be Free Of Cures~

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I wasn’t sick this week or the last, but I sure did stay in bed. Only I don’t need a doctor. More like I need my dog back. Another Father’s Day approaches, and here I am without my son. Be Free Of Cures because I’m already dying

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

Gospel 350 ~Be Free Of Cures~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and ignoring the obvious Ha-Ha, as the song goes, I Want A New Drug. Today… doubtful

Am I a prick for not remembering my “father’s” birthday? I know Father’s Day is on the 20th (shudders). I’m not looking forward to it. Do I have to say something, Inspector Echo? That’s only one of the many things needling at my brain today. But I’m out of bed.
Why, when I need another mental health day or several. I think I asked sometime this week, am I going to waste these next few days. If I said, I would ask a Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting “Son,” Prince of Peace. What’d you think? Obviously, I know my Bible Inspector, that’s Isaiah 9:6. Again I’m not turning towards faith. To quote more wisdom, I’m “Losing My Religion.” I lost my God, Good Boy, Greed…

Which, of course, explains that $150.00 I put in my bank account yesterday and why? I was worshipping some incredible Yabbos that are no longer talking to me. I was breaking Inspector Echo. Maitland Ward had me, and then with restraint ok hesitation… I stopped.
Well, she did, and am I ever going to learn that women aren’t the answer? I’ve been talking to M Anime and Indiana Gone, but I still remember January 31th. Indiana Gone asked what she could do, and I said, “I want my best friend back. No bucks, boobs, behavior. There’s nothing that will bring B III back to me or make the hurt go away. For a few seconds, I lose myself and feel a greater shame about something.

Which should be instead of more porn, I should get stuck. The vaccine is free and is continuing poking at me to go and get it. Today’s the day… again, I don’t think so. The masks won’t last forever, but I continue to pretend. Shall I quote Bob Marley? Three Little Birds singing, “Don’t worry about a thing. ’Cause every little thing gonna be all right.” Only it hasn’t been for 136 Days. I look at them as we approach another year down. I see Father’s Day, and here I am without my son. My Charge, my Comfort, and my Cure, to the viciousness, vitriol, and virus called Life. Is that why I’m avoiding my health? There’s no cure for death. Be Free Of Cures

136 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will