Gospel 231 ~Braxton And P Breaks~

Braxton needs what, and I’m paying who again… Patreon or somebody else? Most of the time, I don’t bother to check my accounts. It might help, though, an exercise that everything is normal but without Braxton. Braxton And P Breaks.

Wednesday, February 17, 2021

Gospel 231 ~Braxton And P Breaks~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… putting that out there as I would, Braxton. Pretending with those aspects of my life now.

Probably should get some air, but I’ve only opened the backdoor once since January 31. Braxton is like me, we both hate the cold, but we would look at the snow. I shouldn’t have said that. Every time I remember Braxton’s eyes, his final look, I break down crying. Prayers aren’t for God, though. I haven’t spoken to God since last month again. It’s one part of my routine that’s broken. There are more tears when I forget, or there’s just no need. This will be the third week, and as I shook his medicine bottles calling “Braxton.” People will be upset or not. It could be both. It’s not like I can call the vet and order more meds. The water company should be thrilled, but not whoever the people are that make bathroom pads. Some are sick of me talking about him. My friends have their own stuff.

Piping up now only to speak to B III. I’m not sure how to stop it; I don’t want to. I’ve said it often enough, every day. “Medicine time,” Night, Night Braxton,” “Just Me Baby B,” I won’t stop myself.

My Olds would laugh at me for talking to myself but with Braxton’s deafening silence…

Postulating any idea of sanity seems out of the question. Will Smith said something to the tune of, does thinking you’re the last sane man make you crazy? Susanna Kaysen wrote, Crazy is you or me amplified. To me, everything about life feels plain wrong. Painful, a crime. It’s why I haven’t done anything, as someone would say, STUPID. My biggest fear was I wouldn’t be here for him. Now 8:00 AM, his meds and water, so I get a bite. 11:00 AM, outside and breakfast. 5:00 PM more water, 8:00 PM meds, and dinner.

Prolonging the pain as long as possible for myself. How long did Braxton suffer? Five days… he was crying Wednesday, stopped eating Thursday, and it goes on. He needed a break. A break from his pops, his father, his daddy. Now that he wouldn’t pretend. Pretending, though, that’s me since the day Braxton Slipped Away. And people talk about puppies. Progressing through grief and other problems. When I want is to believe Braxton is right outside. Braxton And P Breaks.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 224 ~Braxton Barks But Will~

He’s still here, at least when it comes to my mouth saying “medicine time” and “night, night Braxton, sweet dreams,” etc. His water bowl is freshly filled, gates are opened, blinds too for sunlight. Braxton Barks But Will listen to me go insane

Wednesday, February 10, 2021

Gospel 224 ~Braxton Barks But Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m surprised there really isn’t an echo. It’s only me repeating routine, again and again.

Look for me going downstairs. “Good morning, Braxton! Sorry, I didn’t say that sooner,” but he always understood it took me a while to get going. So much so that again, I would repeat myself. Once was for his medicine but also as I left out the door before praying. Lounge around after treats as I leave. “Good Puppy, good puppy, Be Good Puppy. I’ll be back. I love you. Make good decisions. Always make Good Decisions.” Afterward, “I’m out the door. Be Good Puppy, Make Good Decisions. I Love You B, Love You Braxton. Lie around, I thought to myself, though he would guard the house. He must have been thinking I was crazy back then. No, it’s only been ten days, only TEN!!!

Listen for me to come home. Other than Indiana Gone being here or my “father” being by Braxton would hear me utter the same greeting. “Just Me, Baby B. You have a good day?” Even on our last “normal” day as I passed out on the bed. He needed attention. Licking my face because he knew what was wrong with me was more important. I know it wasn’t. He is my son; he’s what matters. The pain in my mind was nothing to the hurt in his body and soul. Oh, look, my third cry of the day, and the day has not begun yet. Laugh at me, and he was capable, but it didn’t hurt so much when he did. Good times were better.

Long for those, and we both did. Now, as I was telling Indiana Gone, my best… Nope, she’s still my second best friend; Braxton will always be first. Anyway, I said to her that everything good feels wrong. Having fries, going shopping, even writing today. Like where is he to again lay by my side? To jump up every time there is a noise. He would be excited when something would come to the front door, presents… I said this is my third bout of tears. The first was when Amazon delivered Braxton’s tiny pendant. Love lunatics… I think we were. “So what if I’m crazy? The best people are,” as the song goes. He believes it because I’m listening as Braxton Barks But Will.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 217 ~You’re Killing Me, Will~

I believed the worst crime any human could possibly commit is the destruction of another person’s soul. Hell, I would give mine to God or sell it to the Devil if either brought back my son, my best friend but why is he gone? “You’re Killing Me, Will”

Wednesday, February 3, 2021

Gospel 217 ~You’re Killing Me, Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. There I said it because; only a “rich” man… Inspector, no one is above the law.

I am GUILTY of Misanthropy, Murder, and Madness. Misanthropy like a mother fucker (pardon my language). It started Wednesday of last week. I came home, and I was tired. God, I was so tired, and all Braxton wanted was my attention. The one life who gave a damn about me, and I ignored him because I was done with people. There’s this girl at work that’s been ever so sweet since his passing. Only she doesn’t know how to talk to me. Hell, I don’t know what to say. I wouldn’t have to say anything if I had been reading the signs that night. Only by hating people, I didn’t care for him. That’s how it started, Inspector, I killed Braxton, I killed my son.

Murderer… I don’t want to be a murderer. I am, though. Not the vets, no, not in the slightest, they gave him mercy. I thank them for their service. There was nobody else, only me, Inspector Echo. To think what I worried about all last week, STUPIDITY. Let the cops take me to jail, after what I’ve done to my son. For nearly five days, I ignored him Wednesday, my greed Thursday, my hesitation Friday. I let go of everything Saturday, and I prayed. I was on my knees praying, following, cleaning. Sunday, I gathered him up and murdered him.

Madness, fucking madness!!! Not Anger, not yet anyway. Well, other than at my “father.” Braxton’s body was still warm, and my father says, “get a new DOG.” They would say I’m still in Denial. I always open his gates as if he were walking with me. Every day I refill his water bowl. The trash was picked up today, but I didn’t throw out a scrap of his food. I won’t wash his bed, the sheets, my hoodie, which I’m still wearing. I walk into his room and lay down a treat. Three treats for three days. I keep his final papers, so I’ll never forget Inspector Echo. I need to see the proof of what I PAID for!!! I did this, Braxton is dead because of my Hate, with my Help, and now I dream of Heaven to be.

His last look, I swear, “Daddy.” You’re Killing Me, Will.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 210 ~Will To Break Free~

I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but I am broken somewhat. Heart, mind, um, something else. You can take your pick. A contradiction that I feel like I’m breaking apart, and at the same time, I can’t be free of that idea. Will To Break Free

Wednesday, January 27, 2021

Gospel 210 ~Will To Break Free~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, sigh; if that were true, I wouldn’t be scared. Inspector Echo, I should have put these two things in my New Year’s Resolutions. One is to stop listening to old white men, um yeah. Two, I shouldn’t put myself in these situations. That same ole trope… Dammit, it’s been over a week. Like the last, all I want is to be sitting on the loveseat or lying in bed. Hell, most days, I’m only praying “not at the Day Job, anywhere but there.” Would it be any easier if it was in front of my son here? What happens to him?

He already lives with a Daddy that isn’t all there. Sure, as the song goes, I’m delirious, out of my mind. I suffer from Anxiety. I Hurt myself today because it’s a Mad World. Ok, how many more depressing songs do I require. Will any of them help with such paranoia. Inspector Echo I have created My Own Prison when it comes to the Day Job. You know I’ve always hated but now? I’ve talked about before how I keep looking at the doors. When the manager sent me to open them, I expected the Police. As the store gets calls… The drawer underneath my knives I keep closed. The things I can’t talk about, that I won’t. The last time I had a freak out with the cops, my “Father” kicked me out. I would have a choice at least here in the house because you know I can’t face it again. NEVER AGAIN!!!

I live by the clock. Again like a broken record, I tell you I hear “call on line 1,” and I set my watch. Wouldn’t it take cops less than an hour? How about a week. It could be the end of the month. Is this how Christians feel. Everything is made precious because of punishment? People have their drugs, alcohol, pick a vice; any vice. Of course, my two are sleeping, and I can’t talk about the other one ever. To be honest, Inspector Echo, I can barely notice, seeing as how I still fell asleep early this morning. Those breaths are free, and no others. Hard fought those.

Interestingly enough, the time I live in. The more I try to ignore old white guys, I find things like a “Terrible thing, to live in fear.” Thanks, Stephen King.

There’s innocent fear and guilty. Mine? Will To Break Free

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 203 ~We Will Go Home~

Last week I had no idea I’d be here. It’s Sunday while I’m writing this but ask me what I wish. Come this time Wednesday, I’ll be right here. My furry Imp napping, finally posting this, with YouTube in the background. We Will Go Home, I believe.

Wednesday, January 20, 2021

Gospel 203 ~We Will Go Home~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but honest to God, I would give it all up to be right here. What in the grand ole U.S. of A? I haven’t forgotten that today is Inauguration Day. You’ll have to forgive me for being a selfish S.O.B., not new. How about time-travel, hmm? It’s still Sunday, so I have traveled now three days into the future. Why. That’s the thing I can’t tell you, I’m not STUPID. I also know the laws better than Trump. Ok, at least I have the decency to look them up, unlike some.

Now, did I really say that I would give up a billion dollars to be in bed? Well, at the moment, on the loveseat in my den, going crazy with worry. I swear Inspector Echo, I haven’t written this much in ages and why. You know I can never do good, so yeah, Great Fear. It’s a Fear that I can’t share even with you and the girls. I’ve talked to Madam Justice, Dear Future Wife, and now you, again on a Sunday. I’m sorry to say, writing, blogging, yeah, graffiti with punctuation, doesn’t feel much like home. A rush to judgment, um, ok, yep. I might as well be sitting inside a prison already. If I’m here come Wednesday, I’ll still be scared. When I got carted off to detention so many years ago, geez. To think that would be my life for who knows how long and then like that, I was free.

Call it scared straight, Echo? I think I even gave my life to God at one point, eww. Who was it that said, a man facing a noose will do whatever to save his neck? Now back with my Olds, ok beat anything I ever knew of the Heaven, Paradise. So many names and such. However, I’m going to Hell one way or another. If I wanted to do good, and I mean now, make the world a better place, I know what I should do. You see something, say something. Trump didn’t call the F.B.I. and Inspector; let’s say we know our countries well. I want to congratulate President Biden and Vice-President Harris. Yet come this time Wednesday, I want to be here, the country at war or not. I’d take Status Quo Freedom.

Detention, Studio, Olds, or Day Job. We Will Go Home

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 196 ~Obsessive, Contagious, Addicted, Will~

A round of applause to the alarm clock, but you want to know what got me up this morning? Nope, and if I told the whole truth, well, I’d be as bad as whoever looked up such and such on my blog, finding nothing. “Obsessive, Contagious, Addicted, Will”

Wednesday, January 13, 2021

Gospel 196 ~Obsessive, Contagious, Addicted, Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but that can be forgiven or buys forgiveness. At the very least makes people forgetful. Of course, I apologize to you, my Dæmon, one day I should add my mother. Hell, sometimes I think about the whole world for being an addict. So what am I addicted to? What would I know about it in the first place? If anything, what am I sorry for today? Oh, let me add one more AHEM; why can’t I forgive myself? I should be thrilled right that I actually got up at 4:00 AM.

How did I spend the first forty minutes? Inspector Echo, it’s like keeping a bottle in the house. The man who tucks a cigarette behind his ear “JIC” (Just In Case). I’m like Pookie in New Jack City. Wanting to do good but putting me in a room with… everything. Inspector, I tell you all the time it’s how I want to spend my life. I want to produce stories, movies, “inspirations” like I’ve been looking up all morning. God, I want businesses that employ the likes of Alice Little and Jill Kassidy. The idea of that starts every morning. Jesus, it’s what I have to think of to keep from falling back asleep. It’s not that I don’t love reading, which I did after those first forty minutes. Now didn’t I say I love money, but that didn’t keep me at the Day Job for two more hours now, did it? I am incorrigible.

Only again, I keep saying it could be worse. Being 19 days in, I’m heading into my angry stage. You stay clean the first week, and it does get easier, but yeah, I’m still lost. So why am I laying all the guilt on now? Bringing up Alice Little, I’m still upset about her case. Now it could be the fact that, as you know, I’ve been cleaning out my phone. Then I found pictures of such and such. I did talk about A Different Alchemy by Chris Dietzel. Jeffery is still lamenting about the passing of his son Galen. Dammit, I could be keeping busy. Reading up on the loss of Alice’s livelihood. I should have headed her way long ago. Instead, I’m sick and twisted with many ideas.

At least it’s not Covid or drugs; still, I’m… remember positivity, Obsessive, Contagious, Addicted, Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 189 ~Don’t Count On Will~

Being a black man in America, I’m not a statistic… I got up early, six instead of ten, you can thank my furbaby for that. The stimulus came through yesterday but besides my kid, my day job, and car people where’s the money going? Don’t Count On Will.

Wednesday, January 6, 2021

Gospel 189 ~Don’t Count On Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which must mean I hate you. Well, I don’t think that way about you, Inspector Echo, or any of the other girls. Okay, so the Man in the Mirror, but as I’ve been saying ad nauseam, it’s a New Year. I’m working on myself… I’m trying. The thing is, I’m asking myself, am I too late? If it isn’t the money, then it’s been my age these days. I’m 36, and if I were to tell you all the things I haven’t done, even this morning. As the song goes, “Time, time, time. See what’s become of me.” Money, Age, Time…

I could wrap that all around my favorite subject in the whole wide world. Well, after my Dæmon, of course. Looks like my Imp’s going to get that vet appointment anyway. Geez, right after I got my stimulus payment. Republican Idiocracy tendencies, “I Like Money.”

Okay, so my favorite subject, I swear I have missed out on so much. When it comes to… well, how do I say this and remain a nice guy? Again I support artists and, in the same breath, thieves. Even with the motherlode of “artwork,” I’ve I miss out on galleries, gathering, and grabbing up all I can. Do you remember after the last Pinterest Suspension/Purge, I was upset about a specific board I lost? I found a few pieces of it the other day but not the whole thing. I would say I find nothing more annoying but that would make me a liar. It’s like finding the perfect “movie” and not being able to download it. How about what happened to such and such a website? What about being so anxious for something and then having it snatched away with fear? Mine… hers?

“A half-read book is a half-finished love affair.’” Cloud Atlas

I feel like Nicolas Cage/Yuri Orlov; I’m always five minutes too early or five minutes late. Being black, I was taught to be early always. As for being a man, I was taught “nice guys finish last” (12 Days, fingers crossed). I’m forever a day late, a dollar short, that is if I want something. I hate being late for the Day Job. Now I love my Dæmon like pancakes, but I got out of bed not by “force of will” but because my son needed me, meds, cleaning, potty.

Hate has my number, but love… Don’t Count On Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 182 ~Humiliation’s A Number Will~

One day I swear I’m going to sit in a room and type all day, pocket my cash, and send an army of mercs to silence anybody sending me spam… well, that got dark pretty quickly. “Humiliation’s A Number Will,” and next year I want it to be zero

Wednesday, December 30, 2020

Gospel 182 ~Humiliation’s A Number Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so um, I still hate Math? Considering I’ve taken no sick days or vacation days. There’s the concept of dinner around here, becoming a big event. I have a yearly eye exam, which is the extent of my medical care. Yep, I still hate my teeth. Okay, say it with me, “This Is America,” how about I am a “Real American.” You’ll have to excuse me, Inspector Echo. The Stimulus Talk and my usual complaints, numbers have been on my brain. With enough cash, humiliation doesn’t matter, enough not to count.

Let’s start with me and My Dæmon. I’m 36, goddammit, my son’s 15. Now I’m trying to stay clean, Inspector Echo when I talk to you, but I’ll put the question out there. When’s the last time I’ve had sex? Meanwhile is the Dæmon living the life, meds, food, yes… However, he could have more, but where’s the money going? Let’s say I’m “supporting” three artists. Depends on how you define art. I can’t tell you how much I’ve spent on the random “expressions.” Or how about the money that went towards “Capital A” SIGH. Well, make more money, you say; how long have I been at the Day Job? Nine years, Inspector, taking orders. And each and every day there, I’m either depressed, destructive or damned. What about all the money I paid to not publish a book now?

I mentioned Capital A, but how many women have stopped talking to me this year alone? I’m going to say three, but even that’s a shot in the dark. Better to keep my mouth shut, but tomorrow, of course, is The Closing of the Year. Pop Culture is much served. While fighting off my addictions. You know within Six Impossible Things, “5 Days” so far. Doing everything to keep my mind occupied, and you see how that’s going. Remember, I had to wipe my phone of such and such, still leaving six thousand pictures altogether. Again I think about writing three NaNoWriMos between two camps and November. Four hundred words daily for the year is around 146,000 or nearly three NaNoWriMos. Not one dollar earned doing what I love still.

Before I forget, two Pinterest accounts are gone. Another “explicit” account wrecked. More sugar daddy/momma accounts blocked between Whisper and Goodreads. Big numbers Inspector Echo still Humiliation’s A Number Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 175 ~Payday, Will’s Favorite Holiday…~

Every day, “How are you,” another day, even with Emergence, or Free Candy, and what about Christmas. When I get massive amounts of green one day, I’d like to think I can afford to bring a tree inside. I can now but Payday, Will’s Favorite Holiday yep

Wednesday, December 23, 2020

Gospel 175 ~Payday, Will’s Favorite Holiday…~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now and still making one more dollar cue Homer drool. Now you know I’m not one for the holidays. Long story short, PEOPLE. During this time of the year, you might call me Mr. Grinch, Scrooge, or “Cross.” Didn’t care for “Scrooged.” Bless Indiana Gone for trying her best. She did send me a Christmas card. Now don’t tell her I told you, but she did forget about MY “Emergence Day.” Okay, so that’s the point, hmm. I never tell anyone. Hers is Star Wars Day, oh, um, a good holiday ha.

Anyway, so I say people, but I should also say with money, things get complicated. Take now, It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year, as they say. Yesterday I envisioned the Christmastime I hope to share with my family someday. Okay, one day, motivations. However, I shared the truth of my current situation. There isn’t a tree up, no lights, no wrapped gifts, we’ll get to that. There isn’t any “Roast Beast” in the fridge. Truth is, I’m still living, for the most part, with leftover Turkey. I don’t mean to complain so much. Inspector Echo, I have money. Is it all this talk in the news lately about stimulus this and that? The idea that I’m beginning to believe Serra Hyundai (assholes) pardon my French has been lying to me. My biggest shame is that I haven’t even bought my Dæmon a gift.

I shouldn’t talk about gifts because that reminds me of Emergence Day. Hell, I should probably put Gears of War on my Wish List. Okay, you already know that Emergence Day is the worst day of my life, and it’s why I spend most of it in hiding, hating life. Now, if I cared to make a list of worst holidays, after Emergence and Christmas would be Valentine’s Day. What, am I trying to be in love at some point. And again, I’m not exactly buying gifts, AHEM, two. Let’s not put women and any money in the same idea. Where will that lead to? Besides wanting a family and what about taking kids to trick or treat. I don’t need little monsters at my door when kids scare the crap out of me anyway.

So I’m keeping people away and money in my pocket. I don’t need the ghosts for Payday, Will’s Favorite Holiday.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 168 ~Will Finds That Alarming~

Last week was about taking it easy, and I still am, but I want to wake up and actually do something. I mean, besides reading Dani Wyatt (nothing against her). Or clean out my phone, 6000 photos and 98% of them are… Will Finds That Alarming.

Wednesday, December 16, 2020

Gospel 168 ~Will Finds That Alarming~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and the idea of making more money never gets old. If I ever had that much, I would do right by my mom. Happy Birthday, Mom! Not that I’ll ever let her read this, but I will have to text her sometime today. Being Wayward Progeny. Now that would be a cool band name. Good ideas like making money are terrific, yet they don’t keep me awake. So my first sin for today. When I have to go to the Day Job, I set five different alarms. On days like this, I start one, and here we are again, talking late.

Okay, so it’s Ten A.M., but you know our conversation won’t be over by Eleven. No, I’m going to work on something I like, and it’s not writing. Yes, “that thing,” and I’m getting dangerously close to the edge. Let’s say I’m cleaning out my phone. The last time… sigh. Speaking of both good and bad things. Eric Vall’s books keep me awake, but it’s the holidays. Now, as I was waiting for my Dæmon to wake up, I began another Christmas story from Dani Wyatt. Um, There are far too many holidays to make this a big deal. Inspector Echo, I need to stop with certain trigger words. Again there is something else that will wake me up most mornings and keep me going far into the night. One more reason I want to make it my life’s work. I wouldn’t waste a second of getting to live life.

Not in FEAR. There was an upheaval a few days ago. I swear, I thought I had been hacked, but many of the users I saw reported the same thing. Besides the Day Job, my Dæmon’s life, so many secrets, breaking my SIX. Geez, there’s so much, too much FEAR. Hell, just now, I heard a sound downstairs, so I grabbed my “steel” and went to investigate. Every time I even touch that gun, it scares me for three reasons:

  1. I don’t like having it around.
  2. I like the feel of it, and I want more guns.
  3. I’m getting used to it.

Inspector, I did mention my Dæmon a few times today. Any sound he makes immediately gets my attention. I love him like pancakes, always Echo.

Someday my life won’t need alarms. Will Finds That Alarming

I Will Have No Fear