Chronicle 098 ~B STUPID THEY Say~

Hey STUPID, Slave, Sucker, so a day at work when I rather stay home with my dog, my best friend, my son but oh wait. When he was dying, I was working; the day after, I sat with him as he crossed the Rainbow Bridge; I worked. “B STUPID THEY Say,” yep.

Thursday, October 7, 2021

Chronicle 098 ~B STUPID THEY Say~

249 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Well, let me apologize for “that word.” How I hate “Hey STUPID, I Love You.”

But to quote another song, “I Feel Stupid.” Considering the 28th of January, when I didn’t know you were dying… I know I’m sorry, Baby B, it’s been a long day. Only am I talking about today or Monday? Why am I talking to you so early? By this time, I’d be in no mood. Oh, I’m STUPID THEY’D say for hating the Day Job denying a slave’s existence, mine. I’m STUPID for feeling bad about it like I failed in life. I let you down, B, all for them. There will never come some moment I won’t be reminded that this hatred killed you. Fuck I will never learn my lesson. This morning I came back and what Braxton; ate, slept, vented, ranted, whatever.

Because I can’t be STUPID, Braxton. At least I try not to be but of course, if you ask someone. One more thing I miss about having you here B III. There was no one to ask, and you already knew. I bet you’re glad I can’t lock you behind a gate someplace, hmm? Yeah, when your daddy is doing something STUPID like this morning. Hell, I would take that over what happened today, and I do mean Thur. It’s no use speculating. Humiliations Galore but at least this week was “successful.” Keeping the Day Job not killing anyone. Braxton, I’m not trying to be funny. In 2017 I wrote, “Lesson 050 A Comedian Died Today.” I killed you, B, my audience, 249 Days Ago.

The one love in my life who thought I could do better. I’m full of apologies, aren’t I B III? Oh, I say, you’re dead, I killed you, I know-how. But um, I’m a dumb criminal, yeah, B III. So why care what THEY say? That will always and forever make me louder, Braxton. Constantly I’m repeating reasons to love you and miss you. Braxton, you’re my quiet friend? Is that insanity? Am I being ironic? Now I know I’m not imagining things. I’ve talked about how the silence is killing me but only not fast enough. Why I’m still talking to you when I should be reading. A boy with an imaginary friend, believing in ghosts, zombies, succubi, me… Braxton, B STUPID THEY Say

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

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