It’s been one month since Braxton left. I haven’t changed his bathroom pad; his water bowl is still changed twice a day. Twenty-eight treats sit on the table. I haven’t changed the bed, his food is in the fridge. “Rats, No Just Braxton,” or so I deny
Sunday, February 28, 2021
Gospel 242 ~Rats, No Just Braxton~
To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and here you are worried about rats, creepy crawlers, and why are you itchy. Is it Fatal?
Not like Braxton, as you can see, twenty-eight treats. The days, the month being without him. Another Sunday you’re not looking forward to, and should you? Last night I dreamt about rats of all sizes “crumbling and crawling all around my feet,” the song plays. Nothing is stopping them now, no matter the universe. You hear sounds now and what could once be B III, well who knows now. Again you have B’s food sitting out. Do you think you should look in the fridge at his “Last Meal?” No wonder your eyes are tired. Crying again in dirty sheets, wearing your favorite hoody, still looking for him. Is it any surprise something might have bit you? Braxton should. You’re not doing Six Impossible Things:
- I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 058 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
Completed (Day 065) No Fap - I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
Failed - I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
Failed - I AM Writing “Look A Thing Like Santa”
Failed - I AM Finishing Gathering, Braxton’s Albums
Partial Completion - I AM Finishing Reading, The Last Teacher by Chris Dietzel
Completed
He has not been an excuse for a month, and how about all last year? Can you consider this “Bargaining” what you’re doing now? Oh, if I were a better man; if I had worked harder back then. Besides Sunday, you’re going to hate yourself, um, Wednesday. You know that. January 27, to be precise. There was a problem, Braxton cried, but all you could say was RATS. Stupid people, you know, and then Braxton’s situation, but no, you’ll let hate eat you alive. I would say I’m sorry for ruining your week already but wasn’t it? Yeah, it is. Talk to Ethan Montgomery, Dr. Robert Neville, Philip J. Fry. The list goes on. After you lose your best friend, what’s next? Six Impossible Things:
- I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 065 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
- I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
- I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
- I AM Writing “Look A Thing Like Santa”
- I AM Finishing Gathering, Braxton’s Albums
- I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus Lord 9 by Eric Vall
What’s impossible is for the world to stop. I don’t want to laugh. I don’t want to like, most days, I know you won’t want to live. The distractions keep coming, though, like those rats. Only Braxton isn’t here to cover you anymore, to wake you up. Braxton, Come Home. He has, he won’t, Braxton’s gone, he’s everywhere and nowhere. All I know is he wasn’t in my dream, and I was surrounded. Not being bitten only covered in the rats, and what does that mean? Like I’ve said before, I only say Braxton’s name, and I don’t worry anymore. Demons, Desires, Distractions, how you wish you were covered in dirt; well, aren’t you? The Walking Dead starts tonight. Day Job? Rats, No Just Braxton.
I Am Afraid Without Braxton