When did I fall in love with B? A “man” plopped him in my sister’s arms? When I saw him on the floor trying to know his own legs? I told him to get in the car? When he defended the gate protecting me. Ayeka Anime was quicker. No, Love Can’t Tell Time
Monday, March 21, 2022
Chronicle 263 ~No, Love Can’t Tell Time~
Two-Hundred and Thirty-Second Rule
I AM a Billionaire right now. So do I love myself? We’ll get to that. I had many different ideas for this rule.
I doubt I’ll love anything or anyone more than my Braxton in a week. That’s right, Madam, I’m time traveling once again. At the moment, it’s Sunday, March 13, 2022. Another day that Braxton isn’t here to see. 414 to be precise. Can I count the days I love Braxton? Madam, I still am, but of course, I meant to say when he was living. Hell, I’m about ready to sing out “He Lives In You.” My son is alive as I live. And I will endure and survive, ha. You know how I have spoken of “Dangerous Words.” I read in Heart Dog: Surviving the Loss of Your Canine Soul Mate about thoughts of suicide. The Grim Reaper avoids me. “It’s Not My Time.”
But it’s always time to look up a good song? Hell, who am I kidding? There’s always time for another porn. How do you think I could stay up this morning to conversate with you? Again I go back to what I was talking about to the Man in the Mirror. I can barely keep my eyes off the clock when I go to the Day Job, and time moves so slowly. As much as I know that hate gets a bad rap, it moves as slow as anything. Oh yeah, the war, right? Or hate can’t tell time, too hmm. But I know I can’t stand to look at myself, to be honest. Let’s not talk about indifference. Braxton lived for five more days.
My love for my B was not long enough. My hate of so much seems to be eternal. Day Job! I wouldn’t say I love porn, but I know time flies by. I can look at a pair of Yabbos forever and a day. Trying to talk a friend out of her clothes… How much time have you got? I’m speeding up because the faster I finish speaking, what will I be doing, more porn? Only I’d give it up if I could have my son back. Reading Roxanne Hawn’s book, she talks about trading one memory for another. I create an album and put Braxton’s pillow away finally; stuff like that. But take a good look around. Good Grief! No, Love Can’t Tell Time.
414 Days Without B III
BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,