Tag: Writer

Chronicle 022 ~Ringing Up B III~

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I don’t like Beyoncé, but I’m more a Survivor than looking for the Single Ladies. Surviving as I am. I still miss B III. One collar is on my nightstand, and the last one is in his bed. I’m not buying anymore and as far as women. Ringing Up B III

Friday, July 23, 2021

Chronicle 022 ~Ringing Up B III~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t wear much jewelry. There’s my urn pendant, my high school pendant… wedding band?

There’s a better chance I’ll get a dog’s collar than an engagement ring anytime soon. Carolina Bound asked me about women a couple of weeks back. I still remember I would joke with her that the first woman that B liked I would have to marry. Sorry about that B. M Anime and I were talking about jewelry too a while back. Braxton will never get to meet her. Hell, at the rate she’s been going, I might not get to either. She’s pretty accident-prone. Not that I’m looking “for something dumb to do” with her yet… But Braxton? There’s no story about putting a ring on him. I don’t remember where his first collar came from, the one sitting on my nightstand this second.

My sister gave him a shiny collar once, which broke while she was walking him. She told me she had to chase him all around the neighborhood. We were on the edge of losing him way back then. I remember plenty of people and animals liked him. Loving or Lunch? But, his original collar never let me down. I never looked at it as a mark of ownership but security. Hell, the only time Braxton was ever out of my sight was when he was in the backyard doing what dogs do. I doubt the collar would have helped B. Dammit, my kid was just too cute; somebody would have snatched him right up. I’m glad the backyard fence is standing. My neighbor’s, however, yikes.

Now Braxton’s “Hippy Dippy” collar, I called it, was a gift from the people at The Dog Stop. They must have figured he was looking pretty rough. It was Braxton’s first day of daycare. I’m sure if we were outside the car, Braxton and I would have been fighting, huh. I always made jokes about him being NAKEY without his collar. My heart stopped a few times when his nails would get caught in the ring. I swear B III was helpless and so strong. I’ve said this before, but he was my superhero. PetSmart gave him these little bandanas. The Hippy collar rests in his bed now. I can’t do it, getting another dog, finishing Braxton’s story, or liking it. Ringing Up B III

173 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 021 ~The Letter B Moves~

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What’s doing more blinking, the cursor on the page or my eyes. B’s who I miss the most right now, but that’s not what my book is saying. I can’t fail B this month as I did in January, but that requires me to get up and move. The Letter B Moves

Thursday, July 22, 2021

Chronicle 021 ~The Letter B Moves~

172 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Should I even try to tell you about mine? No, I haven’t even lived it.

Today is Tuesday, and I’m trying to stay ahead. Do you remember when you were sick? You don’t want to, right but let me get this out. If I could do it again, B III, I’d pick you up and rush you to Banfield Hospital right this second. Could they have saved you B III? Yeah, because I was much too busy. It’s been the theme of this week. There is so much to do, and when I have time, what do I do. Today I had to talk to two of the girls and get to writing your novel. We’ll get to that, but I believe you know what the answer is Triple B.
You’re not sitting under the table or in my lap.

All the time in the world B, and money, Ha. How many times did you hear me talking about writing? Now instead of books, I want to go right back to bed. It’s a miracle that I even got to the table today. Of course, by the time you read this, I’ll be right back there. Yes, the Day Job remains horrible, which is one of the reasons I am writing to you today. It’s like anyone asking me there, “How are you?” I should say “Pissed” and then “Wait.” It’s only a matter of moments before THEY do something to fulfill such a prophecy. “Daddy, what about me?” I hear you, Braxton; I do, but like the novel, I’m writing. Nothing moves anymore, son.

If it hadn’t been 172 Days, I would think you left only yesterday. I was telling Dear Future Wife, the mom you’ll never get to know, that the tears I continue to shed are cleansing. Um, it’s like I’m in ice, nothing can get to me between, bed, boobs, and you B III it’s cold. Braxton sometimes, I melt, and I go everywhere. It’s as if I overflow, but then there’s not enough of me to fill up any glass. The bed’s not going anywhere, and neither are you. I miss being a monk; that’s how you always were, my Pancake. I haven’t eaten anything. I have to keep the cursor moving; I don’t want to fall even further behind. Trying, The Letter B Moves.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 015 ~B Not Another Day~

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Did this day stand out in any way other than “That’s How You Know You Messed Up?” At least I have an idea for another chapter of Braxton’s book. If I am writing Braxton’s book. I’m not even at 25,000 words yet. “B Not Another Day”

Friday, July 16, 2021

Chronicle 015 ~B Not Another Day~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be; if I were more creative and not working the Day Job. Time-Travel

Back to those vet visits in February, and no, not the last one. I mean, the ones I knew B III would be leaving ok and alive. It wasn’t a holiday but a mark on the passage of time. I’d take him in for his yearly exam, and then the idea was to keep him out of there till next. To be fair, this year, his appointment was on January 8, 2021. Then there was the 29th and finally the 31st. Of course, what he didn’t see in February was his 16th birthday. A trip to the vet and his birthday netted the same reward… McDonald’s. B’s birthday was more. Now, if you’re wondering why I’m going over B’s history, yes, there is his book.

I’m trying to find days that were “important” to us and had an actual date too. For example, I’ve said that my “Emergence Day” is no longer the worst day of my life. Yet B was here to see me through 15 of them. I sooner do his math than mine, and so 166 Days. Come November, Thanksgiving Day, which to B III was his Christmas. There was more than enough for us both when my mom would deliver our meal. I’ve said it feels weird when I don’t have to share. These eyes are bigger than my stomach, I told his aunt at lunch. Now that wasn’t another day. Life attempts to be Every Day Is Exactly the Same, but Everything Is Different Now.

Like Christmas, do I go and visit my Olds? Hell, could I do that even if I wanted to for brunch? I wouldn’t go because B III wasn’t invited. It’s not like the two of us celebrated but isn’t that a time for family. When/If I have some family, don’t I plan on it, Sophia? How I wish to remember the day that B hopped in the car, and we drove away, us two ha. I want the day back when we sat on the porch, and I said, “It’s just us now B III, ok?” What about the day before when I finally came back to my Olds, and B III saw me, sniffles? I’m listening to his playlist because; B Not Another Day.

166 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 014 ~B III And More~

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Day XV now, and am I doing any better when it comes to my boy? I wouldn’t be asking that. If I had been 165 days ago? Yeah, Roman numerals aren’t my strong suit. I only needed to count to III before. Now I need 50,000 words for “B III And More.”

Thursday, July 15, 2021

Chronicle 014 ~B III And More~

165 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Sometimes I envy you not having to worry about what time it is, well until…

15 years 11 months. All you know is one day, there was a whole carton of fries for you and a bit of a burger. If your aunt was here, maybe she would make you a cake. Did I tell you I had lunch with her last week? I guess she didn’t want to make me too sad B III. That day she barely said your name Braxton, but I don’t blame her. As I said, you were a month shy of 16, and you would think I could give you this month. It was too fresh, last Camp NaNoWriMo, but I still got 50,000 words done. Now I’m lazy with 16 days to go. Braxton, I would apologize, but if I do that today…

Why only today? I have been telling you I’m sorry going on 165 Days with you gone. Hell 166 if we count the day that you left. I’m at the dining room table, and you’re not here, Braxton, on your pillow under it, waiting for me. What I wouldn’t give to speak to you B. Well, the COVID vaccine is free, or so I keep hoping. If I were to die… A dangerous concept I know, thinking about dying and all. Three needles helped you on your way, one to make sure, two to bring you peace, and the third sent you to the Rainbow Bridge. I got two Braxton. On that day, I said that “I got to Braxton.” I didn’t want your suffering.

You would have pretended always and forever if it stopped me from feeling this way. I’ve long since passed counting up the days from one stage of grief to the next. Only I’m never going to go into five. How could that ever be possible? Packing up your things B? Have you been watching me read The Man That Watched The World End? Ironic since I am that guy. You were about 79, and with how tired I’ve been, 82 sounds about right? Um, my point is, there is no way in Hell I could burn your stuff. B III they did burn you, yep. Wish I was there, Braxton. So yeah, another apology, how many is that which do nothing B III And More.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 008 ~A Chapter To B~

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Friday, July 9, 2021

Chronicle 008 ~A Chapter To B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so does that mean I can finally get some sleep? Seeing how far I’ve come now…

Hell No! If anything, I owe 3000 words. Maybe less if you count all of my B III letters. The truth is, for today, I’m pretty wiped out, and I still have much farther to go. I do mean outside the house. At least I have been writing about Braxton in novel form every day. Okay, that’s a lie. I added a hundred words on NaNoWriMo once so I could win the daily badge. Being a half-ass writer as I was being a half-ass Daddy. So what is my excuse this week, other than the vaccine’s side effects? “Fatigue” sounds like a made-up word Sophia. If I haven’t said it before (yeah, right), I got my second dose coming up. There’s also lunch with Carolina.

Other than work and keeping myself existing, my story has been within these walls. I had the silly notion last night that I would go to the movies today. So I’m all dressed up, but that’s because again, (ahem) EXISTENCE, EXISTENCE, EXISTENCE! Too much! Today going on and on about Braxton got me into such a mood and not really “Fiddler on the Roof.” I’m more like “In The Sun” is that why I’m wearing my yellow hoodie today? Again not Acceptance. I’ll never get tired of the color black and B’s hippy collar. So you’re asking why I am not telling a B III story right this second. After 2,300 words, would Braxton be sick of hearing about himself? And yeah, I still suck.

Even Facebook nailed me talking about the vaccine the other day and dying. Hmm, I’d be worried if I didn’t know that I would get my ass up and go whenever the Day Job calls. If B III hadn’t been suffering, I would have held him and never ventured out. Interesting, another story Lady Sophia, the path not taken. They could have given him medicine to make him eat. Braxton would never make it to 100%, but he would have lived longer. I’m never one to put something off unless it’s good for me. Braxton’s life, publishing a book, games, movies, music. As the song goes, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” A life without B, Lady Sophia? A Chapter To B

159 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 007 ~B’s Dead To Writes~

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VIII days into Camp NaNoWriMo, and yep, I’m writing about B III now. Well, damn, the last six months, and I’m already so far behind. The vaccine does cause fatigue, doesn’t it? I’m still alive, and with my second dose, who knows. “B’s Dead To Writes”

Thursday, July 8, 2021

Chronicle 007 ~B’s Dead To Writes~

158 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sorry for the title card if they ever make your story into a movie.

Your story or ours, in case you’re wondering where I’ve been today. 2,200 more words down, and I know you’re thinking to yourself, Daddy should be further along than this. Do you remember the last NaNoWriMo we did, and we stayed out in the chill? Well, I did, but you didn’t want to leave me alone out in the darkness but Braxton, writings my life? Then why was I at the Day Job when you needed me the most? I despise those people, and then I came back, told you to shush, and went to sleep. You stood guard always. Braxton, I don’t mean to be rehashing all this, but I was working on your novel again. It’s still untitled. Beyond Boys: Braxton Barks Bradford.

No disrespect to the LGBTQIA community (that’s a lot of letters, ain’t it)? Anyway, all my titles seem to come off as GAY. Speaking of not, I talked to your aunt a few days ago, B. Have you seen her?

The last time Carolina Bound was around, I ordered onion rings at lunch, and you were peeved; I didn’t bring you anything. It’s the little stories like that which might make a good book, Braxton. That’s if I ever get it done, and I will; it’s for you after all. So was the album I never finished, and what about my tattoo? Oh, I’ve had my run-in with needles B with COVID-19 and all. I’ll never forget that you saw me through what THEY think was the worse year. 2020

2021, the only year that beats the one I was born into. Who knows B III? In all honesty, I was hoping the vaccine would do its worst, poetic justice. I shouldn’t talk like that. Living, I am alive, more like existing. But you saved my life more times than I can remember. I wish you could tell me what you want from me. Every day I remember the vet and that look you gave me as they told me the worse news ever. Smarty-Pants. Braxton, you said, “I want to go home. Can we go home, Daddy?” I wrote my name, and you ended up in a box. Will a book be any better? My B’s Dead To Writes

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 001 ~Life On The B-Side~

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Five years ago today, I started writing this blog. An anniversary… you know if you’ve been reading how I feel about holidays… anyone, anyone? To think, when I started, it was because of a “girl” and now the loss of my little boy. “Life On The B-Side”

Friday, July 2, 2021

Chronicle 001 ~Life On The B-Side~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Would that be enough for paradise, Heaven? “Oh, where, oh where has my little dog gone?”

My Lady, this isn’t how I wanted to start the “Chronicles….” Yes, this is the hill I’ll die on, as THEY say. I hoped I had more time to think about it, but seeing how I’m talking to you on a Tuesday afternoon. Say it with me, AHEM, TIME TRAVEL, TIME TRAVEL. So work sucks. Now I mean the Day Job without question, and didn’t I admit today that I love writing. However, something I love to accomplish, playing God. Another famous writer wrote this. “God Is Cruel.” Forgive me, Sophia, for daring to think so presumptuous as fucking right. Aren’t I full of books today, first Stephen King? And now Margaret Atwood with “Under His Eye.” I feel Braxton today. Every moment, I disappoint.

Here I am at the beginning of my fifth year of blogging, and to be honest, I can’t really remember why I started. Dammit, the Basic Bitch, but it was the PAIN, want of lust. Writing is me at my most masochistic. One more reason in a hundred, a thousand. Could it be a million that I miss my son? To think if he were here now, little dæmon Braxton. Am I writing about him today? Did I yesterday? Again I’m looking ahead. Only I never saw his death coming. Yet one more painful moment kick-starting my writing once again. Because with enough pain Lady Sophia, I will become the man I wish to be. A billionaire, a bad man, someone who belongs on Earth.

I was already that and more when Braxton would look up at me from his pillow. Five years ago, when I wrote of the Basic Bitch, I wanted to prove I wasn’t the man she thought I was. I want to show Braxton that I am the man he believed in with his last breath. Sophia, be it the Rainbow Bridge or wherever he’s watching me, he lives in me. And I want to quit being this failure, fiend, and fuck-up. I am his father, his daddy, the man who will tell his story to the world. I didn’t do so much of that today, sigh Time Travel. Today should be meaningful, don’t you think. Braxton should’ve known the A-Side, but… Life On The B-Side.

152 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 365 ~A Year B Longing~

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At the closing of the year… well, the blog year. To think I started this over a bitch four years ago and the last five months, I’ve been mourning over a son of a bitch. I am talking about my son. A Year B Longing, but I’ll finish his book this month.

Thursday, July 1, 2021

Gospel 365 ~A Year B Longing~

151 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I want to believe this day is monumental. I’ve been at this for four years.

Only this is the first one talking to you like this. It’s been five months, and to think, when I began, this was all over some bitch. Is that offensive, B? Seeing as how you were the son of some bitch I never met before, you became my boy. She was on the Rainbow Bridge. How I wonder what you told her about the family that took you in. What is there to say about your father? Do you even miss me at all? Fifteen years, four of them sitting here, holding you in my lap, watching you sleep on your pillow. Remember Outside, Inside. That would be my idea of Hell, you go out, you come in, and you never stay with me, B.

Today I’m hoping I’ve started my book for you. How many NaNoWriMo’s did you sit through, Camp and all? How do you think I learned to Time Travel so well, seeing how today is Sunday? I did picture a better life for us but seeing we’re talking now, I’m pissed.
It would always be something at the Day Job, talking to your granddad, or “I don’t know, it’s just the way I am.” To you, I was Daddy, and that will never change. You weren’t waiting for me to change but only to come home. I should’ve gotten here sooner. However, I was always stuck in the past. You saved me from the present, and I longed for the future. Not for me but you.

For four years, Braxton I had rules to get by with Lady Luna. I so hoped to obey them, ha. I talked to the woman I believed would be your future Mother, Dear Future Wife. Inspector Echo showed me I would know no greater sins or shame than losing us. Dammit, I killed again with Dirty Diana because I would rather talk to you, Braxton. Today I don’t want to be mad at myself. Well, not in failing to write your story B III, okay.
When I speak to Lady Sophia, Friday, I want to know that four years mattered. Preparation to honor you, Braxton Barks Bradford, the one I love more than anyone else.
I love writing. I love you. A Year B Longing

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 359 ~Braxton FOUR The Win~

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The Laws of Four are very different from the Laws of Eight from The Postman. Excuse me, I’ve been watching a lot of movies lately. I always need the background noise, and still, I tell myself stories to get to bed at night. Braxton FOUR The Win.

Friday, June 25, 2021

Gospel 359 ~Braxton FOUR The Win~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m still wondering what steps I took. I know the law… NONE with that money.

Rule Number Four, Braxton, don’t crap in the house. B III and I aren’t rich men, but I was always hoping. His whole life, well, um, the last five years of it, he only had four rules to obey. I shouldn’t even call this a law. If anything, it was being polite; there were times. Rule Number Three, never be afraid to ask me for anything; stealing isn’t necessary. If that sounds sane, it’s from Boyz In The Hood. You know The Pancake Story, or uh call it the “waffle” or “French Toast,” hmm. The first time B ever stole from me, well second, ha. He stole my heart when I met him. I’ll never forget those four little legs so confused trying to run.

Rule Number Two, “I don’t care if you’re sick as a dog or in bed with Beyonce. I call, you show.” That’s from, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, arguably the worst in the franchise. It’s also a law B III lived about 80% when he was well and 100% when he’d get sick. He didn’t want me to worry, not that I called him at all those last days. He walked to his water bowl, he hid under the bed when I doted on him, he stood on the seat. Lady Sophia, I continue to call on him daily, for his meds, for his strength, to hear my voice. Otherwise, I would never speak at all. When I start talking to myself …

“All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke.” ― The Road

Rule Number One, don’t bite the hand that feeds you. I can count the number of times Braxton bit me with one hand. I’m lucky to have the two, and I can only remember one bite, really. It was the time he decided to terrorize my OLDS neighborhood. I grabbed him, and he nearly took my thumb off. That leads us back to rule four because I was so angry I wasn’t walking him, so I suppose my mom did. Another moment he got close to biting, bath time, and he was punished or rewarded… B had to go to the groomers from then on. Sophia, it makes me wonder did I hurt him? I killed him… there’s been no justice. Braxton FOUR The Win.

145 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 358 ~Okay, B Father’s Day~

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It’s not a holiday I was fond of like my Emergence Day, the day I got my Day Job, and now the day that B left me. It’s been 144 days, and still, I refuse to say “another day” as they’re not meant to be. Okay, B Father’s Day… love is all I needed

Thursday, June 24, 2021

Gospel 358 ~Okay, B Father’s Day~

144 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sorry I can’t be honest about mine. It’s been one of those weeks, remember?

Neither of us wants to, isn’t that right. All the days of your Daddy hating the whole damn world and then? Braxton, I should have known, and now I find myself here alone. I missed your granddad’s birthday. I can’t tell you what I did Sunday; it’s still Saturday today. Sonless for a Father’s Day in how many years? I want to say fifteen, but when did you become mine. Technically I was your uncle, and your grandma made me your brother. When I was, gifted this place, I looked at you as my best friend, my little Cerberus Braxton. One day it clicked, and it wasn’t the money, the medicine, or the munchies. I’m a father, you’re a son, and there was only that.

You didn’t have to get me a damn thing because, at the end of the day, you just got me. I swear you picked up my virtues and my vices. I’m scared of people; you were scared of other dogs. Um, I never heard about all your time at The Dog Stop, making new friends. I’m one for boobs, and then I had to explain to you about my second best friend, hell women in general. I don’t like asking for help and expect people to get out of the way. You didn’t ask for help, but at night you’d stand by the bed like, “Um, Dad, lift away now.” These holidays have been crueler than any, and I’m not able to acknowledge the sameness.

Sameness, indifference, the thought of “Every Day Is Exactly the Same.” I rather say I “Had a bad day again.” If it’s at the Day Job that’s certain, Ha, like me breathing, you being gone. How about things being right between my father and me? That will be the day. Braxton, I never thought much of Father’s Day though I want to be again someday. I’m not sure about fur babies, but all kids should grow up with a friend like you were to me. Then ultimately, they’ll ruin their lives. Okay, that was harsh, and I’m sorry, but even my “Emergence Day” can’t compete with January 31st. The day I was no longer a Father. The day you left. F… Okay, B Father’s Day.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad