Author: Will

Gospel 276 ~Boys Will Be Braxton~

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Well, Braxton didn’t like baths. He always wanted a full tummy, and he had no idea what I was talking about, but the noise seemed to soothe him. Yes, I’ve pretty much taken over his role, but in the end, “A Man Provides.” Boys Will Be Braxton though.

Saturday, April 3, 2021

Gospel 276 ~Boys Will Be Braxton~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but if Braxton had any aspirations. He wanted a walk and a full tummy for sure.

The simple things and “WWBD” What would Braxton do? I couldn’t help but notice these past two months, I’ve been living more and more like him. I told you before I can’t wash his bedding. I haven’t made my bed in all that time. Does that sound gross… here’s worse. Everyone checks, now and again, to see that I’m still eating, but what about regular showers? And Indiana Gone wonders why they’re no womenfolk here. At least Braxton had his toy to “play” with. I continue living as a monk, clothed in black and prayer. The only cleaning I have done was because there was no other way around. Again I spilled root beer on my hoodie. Braxton’s dish was beginning to grow some fur.

The silence usually means something is wrong, sadly. Of course, B III and I didn’t stand for noise but without his paws running around. Sounds I once found annoying that I would kill for. To hear his breath once more, and I was there for the last one, Braxton breathed. Again it continues as the only time I hear my voice is when I’m embracing the DENIAL of his passing. The shock when I saw I am starting a new month with his treats. I’ve gotten into ASMR lately. I wonder, is it like when I would leave the radio on for B III, hmm? Speaking of or not of hmm, that’s me at the Day Job, I hardly talk anymore. Seems such a waste

Everything does, and yet I steady on. At least I wish I could tell you that… well, no, not really. I’m more like a kid again, goofing around because, as always, “A Man Provides.” Only since I don’t care about myself and B III is gone. Providing bears no meaning. Interesting thought I had yesterday. If anything, I should look after myself because I’m the last thing that Braxton saw in this world. Imagine Lu, my face, your final vision. Okay, that’s one more way I killed my best friend. B Squared must have found whatever on the side much more appealing. As for my final sight of him, I want a tattoo. Always thinking of flesh, for once my own. Boys Will Be Braxton

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Still Salty About B III “A Dream”

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Talk about pouring salt on a wound. And as the song goes, “These wounds won’t seem to heal. This pain is just too real.” To be honest, I’ll take a dream about Braxton than being trapped in boxes at the Day Job. Still Salty About B III “A Dream.”

I’m reminded of the night my Olds cut me off. Most of the police were gone. Thank you ever so much, National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. For once again, proving no one gives a shit if I live or die. Only, that was so many years ago, and my dream brought that back some. Except in my dream, it was daylight. I had my current car, which is far from a Mercedes. I wasn’t at my former “home.” I was sitting in the parking lot of PetSmart, where there’s a Banfield Pet Hospital. Braxton died there.

I’m not blaming them or anything. This is my fault but anyway, so my dream…

I’m sitting in the car, but I’m not alone. B III is riding shotgun, and he’s not sick. He’s happy and giddy, but he wants outside. He smiles, and I pat his head. Usually, he’s frightened of car rides, and of course, he’s still standing, but there’s no fear in him, only an eagerness. My “Dear Future Wife” is sitting in the backseat. At this point, I’ve narrowed it down to three girls. Her face is that of Anna Vlasova, “Alissa” MarvelCharm. Her body is more Alycia Debnam-Carey, yep. Then we get breasts, and there are two words Sabrina Nichole. Then there was my “father” sitting beside her. How does one tell a nightmare from a dream? He was a big red flag, not literally. With him being there, I should have gone ahead and woke up, but I didn’t.

The vision played on until my alarm woke me up, and I didn’t scream or even grumble. It didn’t slip away these images. Like my memory of being cut off, it only sat there waiting, which brings me here today. Fifty-Eight days since Braxton’s passing, and I know, I do. I should get on with the dream. I should get past this feeling… As the song goes, “Let It Go.” Only there were no Disney characters to be had. I’ve been through Legion to John Wick, but only one film truly stands, and it’s this.

The Count of Monte Cristo (2002). In my dream, I was Edmond Dantes, but I was still me, hoody and all. My wife again was the three girls I described. My father in this, what I remember is black. He could be a zombie for all I care but was he the villain or all.

The door on the passenger side opens. Braxton never goes out that way as he crawled over my lap in real life. He’s tugging on his leash, eager to get to the store. More importantly, to get to the hospital in back. It was rare for us to simply walk the store as he usually has an appointment at the groomers or the vet. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind where he wanted to go. I’ve laughed a lot, telling him, “are you going to walk in like a man?” In the dream, I got scared holding his leash.

Braxton pulled and tugged. Whether he wanted me to follow or let go, I wasn’t sure at the moment. I held on tighter as Braxton barked towards PetSmart as if he were asking for help. It was the complete opposite, the day he passed away. Hell, I carried Braxton there. Wifey said something like I needed to let him go, and I shouted at her, “He’s all I have!” My Braxton was, no, is my world, and no matter what she said or did, I couldn’t give up. As I said, she was a combination of three of the most beautiful women, but B III. Wifey opens the door and begins pulling out piles of money from the trunk. There are clothes and gold, diamonds. My eyes were fixed on Braxton, but I knew all the stuff was back there being taken from me, and it didn’t matter. Braxton’s struggling

My “father” says the same thing, to let Braxton go, and I scream at him, “Don’t rob me of my hate; it’s all I have!” Now, wait a minute, I thought that was B III? At this point, I could no longer see him beyond the car door. I felt him continue to try and drag me, but I wanted him back in the car. We would be safe together. My “father” left the car, and like my wife, he began pulling things out. Only in his arms were guns and knives. I thought of my mother taking my first pocket knife. It was a Spiderman back when he was with Venom. It was black and white with the Spiderman emblem. The blade was black with white webbing. It was my favorite, but it’s gone.

So there’s my wife grabbing green and my father taking guns. A wicked world, cruel…

Before Braxton, Wifey, and my “father” left, I heard the three of them like one voice. “Let It Go,” but did I let go, or was there nothing left of me. I won’t give up ever. B gave me one of those looks when he’s like, “Really, Dad, Seriously, Daddy.”

All three doors slammed together, and I was left alone in the car. All that remained was Braxton’s black leash and hippy collar. With the blue towel, I had placed beneath him. The day this really happened, I burst into tears and couldn’t go home. I went to Walmart of all places and picked out a black digital frame. I also picked up BBQ because my mom called, saying I had to eat. You don’t want to know what I wanted to do, but I didn’t because Braxton was watching. There had been a storm minutes before but now sunlight.

In the dream, though, I continued to sit there. It was like the movie 1408, but it was only my car instead of a hotel room. John Cusack, aka Mike Enslin, had to listen to “We’ve Only Just Begun” as the room tortured him. As I sat in my car, it began to fill up with salt. I wasn’t afraid. As a matter of fact, I wanted to dive in, no question. The car was becoming an hourglass. Yes, I know those have sand, but Braxton never went to a beach. I wasn’t cold, and I don’t do drugs. Well, I never did cocaine anyway. As I was buried alive…

The Devil by PJ Harvey
Everyone Says Hi (Defiance Version) by Young Beautiful in a Hurry feat Fyfe Monroe
He’s My Son by Mark Schultz

I listened, and not once did I want to escape; I only sat there waiting for the inevitable. The nightmare didn’t end. I saw flashes. Pornos I have, an air pistol with its orange tip, other real weapons, cash. In all of that, though, I never saw Braxton again, only his collar and the endless white. I don’t know if I lived or died, but the alarm went off, and that was that. It’s been a typical day so far. I can’t say “Another Day” anymore. I did clean out Braxton’s old dog dish. It’s been about two months, and something furry was growing. I wanted to keep the can of special food, another mess.

What does it all mean? I’ll break down four elements of the dream; Three, Wifey, Father, and all the Salt.

The Number Three: His name is Braxton Barks Bradford. There were three people in the car or three lives other than my own. Braxton started getting sick on Wednesday, which is actually the fourth day of the week. However, he died on a Sunday, meaning the next Wednesday would be the third day of his death. With my “OCD,” I test things by three’s. I have three women in my life, my mom, Indiana Gone, and M Anime. It’s like that book “The Five,” the main character, “Rainey Summer Day.”

Wifey: Speaking of Rainey Summer Day and how, when Braxton died, there was a storm, and then the sun was out. I suppose she represented love and lust. I haven’t been open to anything since losing Braxton. I’m a man, I have desires, I’m horny, but there is no will both figuratively and literally. Everything I do in life is about sex, and at the same time, I want love. I want a family. Only no one understands the love I have for my son, and losing him, costs everything.

Father: He, of course, represents my hate. If it’s not sex, then let it be violence. Since Braxton’s been gone, I’ve been in a rage, but I’m always fighting it. Anger is the second stage of grief which is another step towards Acceptance. I refuse to accept that. My son is dead, and yet I can’t stop. His water bowl is filled every day. Losing all of my weapons, the ability to wage war. On the one hand, it helps maintain my Denial, but if I can’t love or hate?

Salt: Braxton is my balance, my constant, my peace. It’s why he sat at my right hand. Why did B want me to let him go? The day he left, all he wanted was to go home, but I chose this path. Salty tears, hmm? Everyone Says Hi goes, “said you sailed a big ship, said you sailed away,” ocean? It could mean diet, which has been lacking. It could have something to do with sex since I won’t allow any pleasure. Or looking back, becoming a pillar of salt.

A dream, a nightmare, nothing at all, I don’t know. Only that’s how I feel. Salt preserves. My nothingness preserved.

Gospel 275 ~Learning To Speak Braxton~

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I didn’t want to tell a sad story. Every day being the worse day of my life at the Day Job, I need to remind myself. Braxton saying goodbye was the day. Next would be me saying hello, but that’s another story. Learning To Speak Braxton is today’s yep

Friday, April 2, 2021

Gospel 275 ~Learning To Speak Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t speak stupid and lies “Trump” or world ruler as Bezos. I speak Braxton.

Or perhaps I “spoke” Braxton? No, it’s been two months, and if I stopped calling out to him, as the song goes, The Sound of Silence. Indeed M Anime is trying her best. She wants me to learn Spanish. A great man once taught “listen to the woman,” truer words… Learning to speak Braxton was a lot easier. Pretty girls and furbabies, and then I wonder why I’m not much of a man. Well, the man who was supposed to teach me such. He said that every word that came out of my mouth was STUPID. B thought it scripture. We started talking the same way we stopped, holding him and saying it would all be okay. Was that a lie? I’m not that bad.

Now I’ve been over hello and goodbye; how many times? How about “you’re safe?” For him, it would be sitting at the foot of the bed, staring at the doorway, keeping watch. To say it back, I would lift Braxton up, butt against one arm, his two front legs supported. My son saying he was hungry was a language all its own. Usually, it would involve his “Undiscovered” appetite making a comeback. In the form of him lying in the den waiting for fries. A quick spin and him leading me to his bathroom pad. How about, can’t bark now eating. Hell, I told people a lot that at least when B III was barking, he was helping me out. People only breathe to talk.

I Love You. How most people waste those words? Love, loyalty, the idea of “If I lay here If I just lay here.” Braxton spoke of love every day, so how could I not do likewise. Now it’s piling up. Today I looked up plenty on grief and love, but how Braxton and I spoke? In our last conversation, him standing on the seat as always, refusing to lie down. “I’m fine, Daddy, let’s go home, everything’s good, I’m a good boy. As I cried over him, telling him I was sorry, I tried, I love him. The last look he gave me as I held him, one word, WHY? Only know you love him when you let him go.

Still Learning To Speak Braxton

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 274 ~Are You Kidding, Braxton~

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It’s the first of the month. All these bills aren’t a joke, and neither is Camp NaNoWriMo. And now it’s official, Braxton has been gone two months. If I make it through this one, it’s a record for Braxton and I being apart. “Are You Kidding, Braxton”

Thursday, April 1, 2021

Gospel 274 ~Are You Kidding, Braxton~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If you did, usually you’d come running to the gate. Are you under the bed?

I’ve checked Braxton, and to be honest, I didn’t even want to get up today. I’m in enough trouble as is, seeing how this is the first day of Camp NaNoWriMo, and I’m running behind. Will I continue my “series,” write about you, or finish GULP? I say that weekly. Know what else I say B? I love you, make good decisions, and of course, “Just Me Baby B,” whenever I come home. People think I’m joking, and if this wasn’t about you, I would say I got ISSUES. I’m still looking for you without fail and freaking out daily. Baby B, I miss those looks you would give me like I couldn’t be serious or even when I panicked, and you were at peace.

Do you remember that time you tried to convince me that you always walked on three legs? You knew I needed my glasses, so that’s when you decide to show me you ate all your food, or you had gone in your bathroom spot. How many treats did you receive? Braxton, you think about biscuits, the way I think about sex, the way leeches think about blood. Now I tricked you plenty myself to get you out of your hiding spots. When people came to the door, we were like a comedy duo. B, My Cerberus, and an “Ordinary Human.” I thought it was funny when you got into trouble… I got some “alone time.” You laughed because I treated life like it wasn’t awesome.

I guess the joke really is on me. Wanting you to live forever was a joke. Believing that someday, I would introduce you to my wife and children, and you’d grow old with us all. People laugh as I call you my son. But no one walking the Earth today, who shares my blood, could say they have the sway you held, still do. You will always be mine, My firstborn. B III I thought you were joking when a day went by, a night you cried. Hell, I thought you missed me before. I knew it was a joke when the hospital called asking for permission. You were dying.

Not funny. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, I hope you’re smiling, laughing. Are You Kidding, Braxton?

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 273 ~For Once B Write~

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This will be the first Camp NaNoWriMo that Braxton won’t be here. My writing buddy, my words were supposed to save us. Maybe if I had written to God instead. The Vet told me there was nothing to do but with a higher number. For Once B Write, I failed

Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Gospel 273 ~For Once B Write~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how am I still living on my knees, my belly, landing flat on my face?

“Please” is a word I’ve been using less sarcastically nowadays. Yeah, please, I’m not in retail; I’m a writer. It’s been more like please and thank you to people. Of course, I should be polite. It’s not only because of B III. Please, God, Doctor, anybody save my Little B. Hell, I’ll never forget how I was crawling along after him. How I was on my knees before taking him in. As the song goes, “No one laughs at God in a hospital.” I was sitting, well falling to my knees as Braxton left me alone in this world. How dare I ask for anything? Most days, I’m an atheist through and through, though I push agnosticism. Funny and sad, no human’s made me feel…

“All I know is the child is my warrant… And if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke.” –

“Person-like?” A man, a father, a writer, somebody, anybody. Again I think man evolved but not for the likes of me. No, I’m a primate, an ape, a monster, which is why most of my stories deal only with men. Okay, an android here or there and one of my characters evolving. On Twitter this morning (Saturday, March 27), I saw #SoTheLastTimeIHadSex. I still want a family Inspector Echo. That’s another thing I don’t write about. Wasn’t I working on a Christmas story at some point, “Look A Thing Like Santa?” Yeah, Braxton had a role in my tale too. Now here we are on my last day of… again, I never know anymore. Camp NaNoWriMo is about to start, and what am I going to write about or complete?

Poetry or Prose? Not a day goes by where I don’t imagine, “if only I had finished GULP,” where would B III be? I wouldn’t have been at the Day Job, that’s for damn sure. I could have paid a bit more attention. Maybe it was the water he was getting, those hotdogs, his food. I want to write a book for him since I’ve given up reading about dogs for now. While a good story, a Dog’s Purpose didn’t do me any favors when it comes to… what healing? Did I ever believe writing does that? It’s been two months now today, Braxton’s death. If I start my former series again… I’ll kill him?

Braxton’s character, which wouldn’t be right? For Once B Write

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 272 ~Braxton In The Mercedes~

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Maybe I’m dehydrated. Braxton got like that once, a little dog like that walking in the southern heat? My diet could use a change; I’m living off Walmart wings and Subway. Grateful I have a car, but nobody is riding shotgun. “Braxton In The Mercedes”

Tuesday, March 30, 2021

Gospel 272 ~Braxton In The Mercedes~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as the song goes, Money “Can’t Buy Me Love.” Of course, the jury’s still out.

The businesses I’m in… Hell, I know more than most. Did I ever tell you that when I was young, I wanted to be a veterinarian? How about the fact that Braxton was a gift and not to me but my sister? He wasn’t even the first dog I ever watched die; a puppy’s blood. People can be so STUPID, My Love. Myself included, or so I’ve been thinking since… well, you know when. I took Braxton’s love for granted, and now yours, the children’s, I keep none for myself. It all comes back to me, or as I keep saying, “A Man Provides.” There’s plenty of men that do that, and how little do they know about love. My father, I hate the bastard.

Still, he’s the one that bought Braxton. As Shakespeare wrote, “My only love sprung from my only hate!” My father, um accused me of murder. As I stood in the parking lot that day delivering the news that my little B III had passed. But it wasn’t the accusation, though. What do I mean by accusation? It is what it is. B is gone because of me. You say that’s me hating myself, and I think, that’s the whole point, well two? Understand the first is easiest to bear as I watch you and the children, our family, what remains of us, All Of Me. Always and forever, “even if I come back, even if I die,” you’ll want for nothing. But there’s my love.

You want that back, Baby Girl. I love you and our family, but do you know how many times my father said that to me. How many times did I say it to Braxton daily?

This brings me to my dream last night. I dreamt I was Edmond Dantes, and you were my Mercedes. You asked me did I suffer, and no, I was not in the Chateau d’If. It was with Braxton’s death. I begged you, pleaded with you not to rob me of my hate as Edmond had. I watched you, my father, take my weapons. It wasn’t any love but an arsenal leaving me with nothing; my second point. My father taught me I deserved neither love nor hate because I’m nothing.

Before you, I had always been a fool. I became a best friend, a father. Now I may lose it all. I have lost it all, but no, you’re still here, but I see the man in the mirror these days. I want to take him away from you. Braxton wouldn’t have that, but no love, no hate. What’s left? In my dream, it was my old car. Braxton didn’t die in a car, but I was buried alive in salt inside after losing everything.

It was only a dream because you’re here, but I’m not… Braxton In The Mercedes

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 271 ~Know Your Sins Before Others~

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I’m an open book but there are some I don’t share. Now aren’t I always saying that Braxton’s death is the hardest thing to know. The final bill still sits, I tell everybody. When’s the last time I haven’t mentioned him. “Know Your Sins Before Others”

Monday, March 29, 2021

Gospel 271 ~Know Your Sins Before Others~

Hundred And Eighty-First Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and Braxton never knew. Oh, come on now, he had more faith.

Now before I wax on all “poetic” about B’s eyes… Aww, screw it. B III looked at me as though I alone had the power to save him. He believed, with all his might, that I would take him home that day. I am his Dad, and I couldn’t be anything else. What I became? I’m sure Amazon is wondering the same thing. Yeah, I’m still burning money like it’s going out of style. As a matter of fact, I’m gazing at some “style” right now if Amazon Prime is true to their word. Let’s just say it’s concerning “Lollipop Chainsaw” fashion sense, Madam Justice. Speaking of cash and my absurdities with it, my GREED. To think I “give-up” one sin for that of GREED.

I’m sure two redheads are laughing their way to the bank. One of them was something over a year ago. Petting Braxton, him sitting here while I read, kept me from more sinful pursuits. I wanted to be a good example but ask Indiana Gone something about that ha. I’m still reading. “Anything good?” you ask? Depends on your definition of good. Of all the things I would tell B III about, recounting my latest… Yeah, with my “retail therapy.” Is that what it’s called? Well, at least I did cancel that Patreon, and it’s not like this is new. Several subscriptions still await. Isn’t it funny that the WWE isn’t one that had me the slightest bit conflicted? “Born in LUST turn to dust.”

No, I’m not reading Stephen King. It’s not like what I am reading is putting me to sleep either. I’m tired, Madam Justice. Last week… if I survived since I am talking to you March 26. Now I’ve mentioned how much I despise the Day Job; being so rageful also depressed. Although Braxton is the cause of one of those. Not that I’m blaming him. Because around this time, January 29, I was witnessing my ultimate failure as his father. Yep, I called the Veterinarian. Last night, I was so out of it with exhaustion, but my Mom called; wakefulness. It’s the one thing that gets me moving, and out of my SLOTH, another’s pain.

Braxton’s death… I knew before the doctor’s words, “He’s Gone.” Know Your Sins Before Others

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 270 ~I Growl B Cause~

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I remember those old commercials of “so easy a caveman can do it.” The first word ever spoken was probably not caveman to caveman. I can imagine it was one telling his wolf to get off the rock. I growl at people; I talked to Braxton. I Growl B Cause.

Sunday, March 28, 2021

Gospel 270 ~I Growl B Cause~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means Braxton would be as well. I’m not mad, though, at least not like you now.

It’s one of the reasons we’re talking today and not Sunday. With everything happening right, you might break your keyboard. As I believe I broke the car stereo. Yes, another distraction from the empty passenger seat. In truth, it’s not like B was there that often. Still, I could commiserate with him as we both had enemies outside the car. Braxton’s would be the vet. Again and I can’t stress this enough, I’m not mad at the vets. At least I was paying for Braxton to always get better, and then… Anyway, paying those Serra fucks. Pardon my language or yours, I’m getting angry on a Tuesday, and I don’t want to imagine your rage. The worse days of the week are Wednesdays and Sundays.

Any day I brought fries back was a good day for B III. He didn’t growl because he was hungry. No, he would do it because he was greedy and his Daddy is weak. Are you as I am because I went to Mickey D’s. Just like I won’t say “Another Day,” “Life Goes On?” I’m pissed at myself, sure for my crime. The Day Job, though, and I know you’re getting it. You’re still in DENIAL with Braxton. People at the Day Job… why are you still working there. Of course, I know, which makes me hate myself even more with these past days. You know something, maybe you should make “that the prize.” If you were able to accomplish the Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, “Succubus Lord 11” Eric Vall
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 086 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 093) No Fap
  5. I Am Cleaning Out The Refrigerator (Braxton’s Last Meal)
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Still, I am no oracle from ancient Greece. I said before I’m not Hercules. And looking in the mirror, I’ll say, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus. But he talks like a gentleman.” Or I wish I had, and you are hmm, with M Anime. B growled at girls, but they loved him so. Didn’t I? And that’s why I’m looking into all this stuff. I want a black pedestal for frames and candles, a trunk for all his things… another furbaby. Yet one more Republican tendency; find something to hate more than yourself. A man trying as always for these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Innocents by Cathy Coote
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 093 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I Am Cleaning Out The Refrigerator (Braxton’s Last Meal)
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

I would say “You Are Not A Caveman” because you could be better. You could be the man Braxton thought of as Dad. How can I? I Growl B Cause

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 269 ~Braxton Spills The Beans~

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It’s no secret; Braxton’s gone. I’m not hiding that I’m crazy or knowing I’m guilty. A small boy, but B III had a big bark. If he’s not too busy barking at people at the pearly gates or giving Cerberus a run for his money… “Braxton Spills The Beans.”

Saturday, March 27, 2021

Gospel 269 ~Braxton Spills The Beans~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now or not. Just like Braxton didn’t tell everyone my secrets. His food was a different story…

It’s been weeks since I found any, like the “regular” parents finding their child’s Legos. Of course, his treats and meds are still on the counter. Braxton has a bag of food in the fridge. Then there’s the last opened can and his pan. Lady Luna, why bring this forward? I’ve washed his hoodie today… not by choice, mind you. In Braxton’s final days, he was sweating or wetting himself, not that I care either way. A bottle of soda changed all that. Maybe I can transfer some of the smell from his bed back onto the hoodie. Madness, insanity, perhaps? What’s the secret? I love Braxton like pancakes. But who was to know, as much as I kept him to myself all this time.

Tell that to the hackers and scammers after B left. It’s too soon for Christmas, but Hell, I woke up this morning, and I had no clue what day it was. I don’t know who I am. It’s plenty of assholes who are trying. Did I mention Amazon and my shenanigans? You’re right; I didn’t. Without Braxton’s hunger being a factor? Give me anything to serve as a distraction, which is why I’m later than usual talking to you. The Day Job is still crazy, and this week has the potential to be worse. So many people I don’t know. You’re asking me to explain why I’m here then? As I say every day, Braxton’s Life Matters, but I started talking when he again left.

I’ve dropped stuff from food to tears to his bed. I call for him to take his meds. Only not in getting some scrap of food that got away. He’s not here to flop down beside me. B III would be as mad at my schedule as I am, and instead of his bed, he would hide beneath mine, ha. He wasn’t one to keep secrets, but he would tell white lies to get an extra treat out of me. Again, while I’m way too tired, which I am this morning but shouldn’t I be enjoying it considering, well, whatever. It doesn’t matter as I ask Braxton for strength and know his loss is pain.

My worst crime and Braxton’s somewhere. Braxton Spills The Beans

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 268 ~B Hold A Dream~

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Braxton wasn’t looking for the Holy Grail… okay, maybe once when he stuck his head in my drink. My first knight was on the eternal quest for comfy spots. Again, some things he should keep his head out of. Where is his behind now? B Hold A Dream.

Friday, March 26, 2021

Gospel 268 ~B Hold A Dream~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but could I pull the clouds from the sky? How about growing a pair of wings?

Okay, as I come back down to Earth, I looked up the softest material in the world (Braxton’s fur)… Lady Sophia, why? Like most things because of my son. Braxton was quite particular when it came to where he decided to rest his head. Braxton had two beds to choose from. Spoiled as he was, it was between my sister and me. That was Braxton’s big decision to make nightly. I have issues with my Olds and my sister, B III, though. He would hang out in my Olds’ door of the old house, waiting for whoever was headed out for food during the day. How many humans have ever chose me over everything? “Get in the car B.” One of my proudest moments ever.

He doesn’t like car rides, but he wanted to sit at my right hand even with that fear. Well, stand anyway. I think I have decent car seats but Braxton. He dared to dream “The Impossible Dream.” First time I ever had to give “The Talk,” and Braxton really listened. My boy loved Indiana Gone and wanted her to stay forever. A promise I’ll never keep to him sadly, but even if I did. I don’t think he would have appreciated losing his side of the bed. Now, how many times did that happen when he was here? Do I need to tell the truth? Anyway, I tried to make up for it, as I always say, his bed, his pillow, an unwashed black hoody.

As far as Triple B was concerned, his behind was not meant for the deck, tile, or laminate flooring ha. His entire life is a miracle to me, but when he chose to lie out on the porch with no pillow. Even now, I haven’t figured out why Braxton lied on one side of his bed. Lady Sophia, if I were to dream, I would believe he was always saving room for me. If he is anywhere, I imagine a big black bed he can crawl up in. It’s cool but has a heating pad at the foot, and it’s shaded. Around it is bathed in sunlight and his favorite foods. He’s saving a spot.

Missing cuddling, I hope he’s resting. B Hold A Dream

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will