Gospel 229 ~Beds Are Not Substitute Graves~

Braxton would let me stay in bed, but he also knew how to get me out of it and then at the end… Hell, I would have joined him if I could’ve. Only for now, at least I’m up wanting to remember, to hold him, but Beds Are Not Substitute Graves.

Monday, February 15, 2021

Gospel 229 ~Beds Are Not Substitute Graves~

Hundred And Seventy-Five Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does Braxton want to be with me forever? Always and forever in my heart, of course. Even now, a piece of him is around my neck. What about everything that is on my nightstand? I’m sure even today (Time-Travel, it’s still Saturday, his birthday). He wouldn’t want me to spend all day in bed mourning. No, that’s what we did on my Emergence Day. A bed has plenty of purposes, but it’s not as a grave. Being in a warm bed is pretty heavenly, which explains why I’m out of mine.

I’m also sure a bed isn’t made to be a shrine; again, we return to my nightstand. It’s been two weeks now or will be, and I keep Braxton’s last collar in his bed. His favorite plaything sits on his pillow in his room. Despite losing him, as I said on “that day,” they’re staying. Braxton’s bed is not exercise equipment, no matter how heavy it is to carry. With everything I have to heave at the Day Job, nothing compares. I keep thinking the whole world could tumble down, crushing me, only B III, bedding, daddy’s breaking heart. They’re not time machines either. As I told you before, I move my son’s bed to the right spot when I leave. Hell, just now, where do you think his pillow is with his toy? Right under the table as I talk to you. I’m still waiting for Braxton to go out, standing by the door.

That’s his territory, the backyard. Indiana Gone asked me where I would scatter his remains… I’ve only cried twice today, and it’s not yet 8:30 in the morning. Madam Justice, honestly, I only opened “the box” once. Inside’s a blue cloth, farther… didn’t wish any disturbance. Well, again, other than the pendant, I’m still wearing. Do I want to keep what’s left of my son sitting there dark? A bag of his hair, a clay paw print, even the certificate of his cremation? 5.5 x 8.5, how dreadful is that wanting to keep it representing Braxton. February 4, by the way, where was I when that was happening? In bed saying that it should have been me than him, honest. Today of all days, though, I’m out of bed, not living really. Existing, Remembering, and Thinking for now at least. Beds Are Not Substitute Graves

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 228 ~Okay To Love B~

Not even thinking about Valentine’s Day, my heart is already broken. Dogs are so much better than us when it comes to most things. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again. But to not my little boy, it’s Okay To Love B

Sunday, February 14, 2021

Gospel 228 ~Okay To Love B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it still doesn’t mean a damn thing, even in the past two weeks. Worst on record

Okay, to love because it’s Valentine’s Day. To be honest, the only holiday I’ve been thinking about is Braxton’s birthday, and how did that go? It’s still Saturday right now, and I got nothing. You can relate. I know and can’t think about loving a damn thing. I don’t blame you. It’s like you’re starting at square one all over again. You can believe it’s okay to love, but who or what? Your mother always, and you’re awfully close to Indiana Gone but Braxton… The loss of a child, what can you do with that? Love might as well be some kind of farce. Yet I pretend, and you continue, don’t you? Such is Denial, but you can’t forget love or these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 044 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 051) No Fap
  2. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Writing “Look A Thing Like Santa”
    Failed
  5. I AM Finishing Gathering For Braxton’s Albums
    Partial Completion, Found Photos On FB Going By Month And Titles
  6. I AM Finishing Reading The Enchanter by Vladimir Nabokov
    Completed

“Okay, to leave,” but that has taken on such dark implications. The last time those words were spoken was on January 31. A lie… no, because that would mean love itself is a lie. Braxton loved me, he loves you, even now or so, you gain strength by keeping him close. To let his life go was one thing, but to let it all go? No, because where would you be? Just like me, you’ve already decided that it merely doesn’t matter anymore. You leave another treat on the table, another full bowl of water. You still think about what it would be like to leave him three weeks ago, but he left you two weeks ago. There’s nowhere, yet these remain Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 051 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  2. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Writing “Look A Thing Like Santa”
  5. I AM Finishing Gathering, Braxton’s Albums
  6. I AM Finishing Reading “A Dog’s Purpose” W. Bruce Cameron

Okay, to lose brain cells. Whether it’s by repeated insanity. You keep saying it, Braxton’s name, your usual phrases. It’s not like you’re going to hear him come bounding downstairs. You know where he lies, you know where You want him to be, and still. It’s like I can’t walk. Forgetting that he’s gone. I’ve been oblivious to plenty, yep. When any of it even comes to Braxton. It’s been two weeks today, and I’ve found tears every single one. You will as well, so let it all be pushed to the side. If it had only been Braxton before… Could he still be alive? Because it is never okay to forget how much you love him. And you, he decided Okay To Love B.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 226 ~Did Braxton Get Taller~

Who do you look up to? Me, I look down, expecting to find Braxton waiting. He’ll look to me to pick him up. I’m making sure Braxton doesn’t slip out the door, his scent. He got up there in years, heroics, the Rainbow Bridge… “Did Braxton Get Taller,”

Friday, February 12, 2021

Gospel 226 ~Did Braxton Get Taller~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I should have bought Braxton stairs. He got taller. Higher, Further, Faster, baby, My Braxton.

No, he wasn’t Captain Marvel. The night I met my son, he was carried in by his grandfather. The runt of the litter, though I don’t know if that’s me building up his lore. THEY say tell the legend, so I consider it. Facts he’s a full Deer Head Chihuahua. The next thing I know, he’s in my sister’s arms, a gift. Let me stick to Braxton before… So I wanted my sister to let him walk. Hell, I was at least “twenty,” but I was all in for “puppy love.” Let’s say for days Braxton had better security than the U.S. Capitol, um yep. While I’m on the subject, his name Braxton Barks Bradford, B III, Triple B, Little B, the beat goes on.

Before he could decide on his direction, my mom named him. I thought she got the name from The Jamie Foxx Show and the character Braxton P. Hartnabrig. I think now he was named after the singer Toni Braxton. For three days ha he was Neo, “the one” my one. Now, of course, you get the Bradford but the “Barks?” It was his purpose, plus I was one for Stan Lee’s character names, thank you Raj, TBBT. If B had any other purpose, my sister would carry him around in her purse, which never happened. Then came the move. Braxton and mine and for about six years as the song goes… Just The Two Of Us. It should’ve been much longer, than that I know.

He made me a father, and he was my son, the SUN. He defended my kingdom, and I called him a little prince, no I made him a GOD. I didn’t know prayer until I asked God knows who for his safety, strength, and soul. I became a villain, but Braxton is my Hero. How can I be surprised that my little boy, who figured his butt should never touch hardwood, could fly into my arms? He could jump onto beds and couches. My son became the angel and sometimes little devil on my shoulder. And now, on February 10 (time-travel), I get a call to pick-up his… he made it to the Rainbow Bridge.

Higher, Further, Faster, I’m still growing. Did Braxton Get Taller

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 225 ~B For I Look~

It’s been 11 days, and not one has passed without me in tears. What I’ve read has only served as a reminder that you’re not here, and yet what do I do. As always, refill the water and, on the other, dust off my nightstand for everything. B For I Look

Thursday, February 11, 2021

Gospel 225 ~B For I Look~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine… are you looking at McDonald’s or my shoes, the door outside, or my face.

I’m looking for you everywhere. Probably one of the reasons I keep crying because I’m scared I won’t see you again. I slept a bit late today and jumped. Only you can’t go missing… your meds still in the bottle. Your water once again I refilled. A treat, 11 now. I can still smell you all around, your bed and mine, my hoodie. I feel you wrapped around my legs. My hands, sometimes it’s like I’ve dropped something, and then I remember. I would give anything to share a fry with you. I would have called the silence the worst. Nope, it was that final look we shared. I still don’t know if it was goodbye, a why, a sigh as you left me here.

Yet I keep looking for you. Maybe you’re in the backyard though I haven’t opened those doors since you’ve been gone. Every morning I climb out of the shower expecting you in your bed. At night you’d be outside the bathroom whining. Hated evening showers. Braxton, I haven’t been on my knees once to look under the bed, to clean your bathroom pad, or to talk to God. Of course, that third one didn’t happen too often. If I were looking to the divine, I would turn to you. I was blind, and now I see. Only where’d you go. Rainbow Bridge seems to be the consensus. Heaven. I swear I looked for you in the sky yesterday, and it’s been raining ever since B.

If I could see you again, you would be right here with me. Right by my side, walked and full of treats. Wondering why I got up late as I’m still typing. When You were young, you’d going tearing around and about. I’d find your favorite toy, throw it around. Now Braxton, where do I find you? Give me strength as I find the pendant I had made for you. Yesterday you were in a bag, your life, everything I’ve known or wanted to, sitting next to me. You’re on my nightstand picture frame, name plaque stuck to a box. Braxton, you’re on a card in words of doctors and friends, second BFF your grandma. Only you’re not lost, I know B For I Look.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 223 ~Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie~

The person that has made fun of me for crying the most is my Old Man. I don’t want to talk about him, though. Why did Braxton feel he had to be so strong for me? I’ve cried most more times in nine days than… Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie.

Tuesday, February 2, 2021

Gospel 223 ~Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I would only have you cry tears of joy. There is no joy in me.

Was it wrong of me not to take you and our other children with me to Braxton’s goodbye? All my life, I was taught that a man ain’t supposed to cry. Nowhere motivationally, all my music, and from an individual, I hope you never meet; my “father.” Braxton didn’t cry. So how many times have you caught me, hmm? I remain a traditionalist that a man must be strong. My son was the strongest man even when I was running around calling him a puppy. One day out of seven is what I blame myself for, well, two days. The day he did cry, and the day I would never hear him cry again. A Wednesday and Sunday, because he took after me. My Braxton.

How is it okay for a man to hate but not to cry? I hated. Not him, never my son, but I hated people and ignored his crying. Now it’s all I do. I hate myself, and I cry for him, and there’s nothing. Indiana Gone told me before she got married that if her groom wasn’t crying, she was going back up the aisle. I’m sure I teared-up out of love for you when it was our turn. Only the tears that I have shed in nine days alone. Has it only been over a week, and I’ve been sniffling, sobbing, silent except for the times you’ve caught me. I’m sure Indiana Gone has shed some tears, and others, even you. But should I?

For the first time from forever, I have to say this time; I don’t give a damn what you think. I don’t mean to sound awful, but I was Braxton’s father before you. If he had cried just one time that Sunday? No, he cried Wednesday as I stewed in bed, hating the whole world, losing my soul. I lost him, and the fact that such was allowed to happen? No again, this is my fault; only I don’t cry for me but only for him. It makes me wonder why I was made so. It scares me still when our children cried as babies and cry now. Should I let you grieve with me, the loss of my Braxton? No, Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 222 ~Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets~

I don’t know what’s worst than saying Braxton’s gone, my son is dead. Everything that has been said and not, nothing will trump that. Yet in life, we keep some things to ourselves, right? “Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets,” right

Monday, February 8, 2021

Gospel 222 ~Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets~

Hundred And Seventy-Forth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should have plenty of secrets. You know I do, but for the first time in forever, I don’t care. I’ve told you the worst thing I’ve ever done. Madam Justice, I’ll keep saying it. I killed my son, Braxton is dead because of me. For my failure at being his father, he paid with his life. I’m scared, of course. At the same time, I’ve got nothing left to lose. Why should I care about anything else? What makes me a man has nothing to do with, as the song goes, Underneath Your Clothes.

Take away a man’s son, you’ve truly given him nothing left to lose. – Zombieland

I also don’t have to sing “I Wish It Would Rain,” for I am not ashamed of crying. Hell, it might help to feel anger. It’s been one week; well, it’s Saturday now. Who am I to talk about the stages of grief? I haven’t cried like this since… I don’t know; I’m in Denial. It’s one of the reasons I won’t share this more publicly. I’m not my father. Didn’t I tell you before? I could still feel Braxton’s warmth, and he’s all like, “get a new dog.” He’s lost two, and I don’t recall batting an eye, but I didn’t say, “oh well.” Then his mother died um. Nothing ever hid his hatred towards me. I’ve heard the Christians talk about putting on the whole “Armor of God.” It would do nothing to shield me from my anxiety. Give me dog hair any day of the week. Still, I walked in with Braxton, and I walked out alone.

I bore my soul to the world, and what of Braxton’s? Haven’t I said I would have saved or sold mine to keep his? I haven’t cared about my body since. Only I keep dressing, going to the Day Job, I took a shower somehow. Um, does any of this have to do with the rule? Honestly, I haven’t looked; I mean, really seen a woman since the vets had mercy on Braxton. I still have Twitter, of course, and artistic endeavors. To be honest, I haven’t been checking the bank except to shop online for food. How will I ever go into Walmart Sunday? Women hide things, and I’m a man hell with nothing more. Fatherhood, heart, balls, Braxton

No one knows what it’s like… ha, plenty know. But, Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 221 ~Willing To Lie Braxton~

I would lie with him longer. Before I knocked on that door. I told him the truth that soon he wouldn’t hurt anymore. The only lie I said is that I would be okay. So he didn’t have to worry. All he ever lied about was treats. “Willing To Lie Braxton.”

Sunday, February 7, 2021

Gospel 221 ~Willing To Lie Braxton~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it doesn’t bring Braxton back. How long are you willing to lie? I don’t blame you.

Lies, coming from Braxton. Damn, you would be willing to die for those lies once again. It wasn’t laziness today as you stumbled out of bed how he would spin around begging for a treat. Hell, last week around this time, you followed him. “Dad, I’m going to be okay.” Lien on my heart, my soul, on all that I am, whatever take it. Be it God, the Devil. Suppose you could be the man from three weeks ago. You’re willing to be afraid if it meant having him back. The thing is now; nobody wants you, a harsh truth to face. Nope, never denying it. “Liege, Dad, Will” to Braxton though you were all these things and more, or at least he lied well.

“Whatever you want, whatever I got, it’s yours.” From Negan

  1. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 037 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 044) No Fap
  2. I AM Always The “Father” My Dæmon Deserves
    PERMANENTLY
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Writing “Look A Thing Like Santa”
    Failed
  5. I AM Cleaning The House BUT Some Things Aren’t Changing Despite This Sunday
    Completed
  6. I AM Finishing Reading Succubus Lord 8 by Eric Vall
    Completed

Lieu of any sense, it seems but, Six Impossible Things… What’s more impossible than merely going for a walk with him again? Let me tell you, it’s a good thing I didn’t shop for him at the Day Job. You wouldn’t be working any. The places that remind you now. Lied, fuck man, the one thing that deserves the “Undisputed Truth,” and it’s this. You killed Braxton, or I did… Well, the mere fact that the life I lived that you now lead was connected with his. If you conceived the fact that he would live another day without you?
Lie here alone… chances are you wouldn’t be here, but Braxton deserved so much better. You’re a man that can’t do these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 044 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  2. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Writing “Look A Thing Like Santa”
  5. I AM Finishing Gathering For Braxton’s Albums
  6. I AM Finishing Reading The Enchanter by Vladimir Nabokov

Lieutenant though, there was no one better than him. It’s like you’re walking through fucking Hell, at least for me, it was. Do you know what the Ninth Circle is? Treachery. The principle that comes first in defining it is BETRAYAL. Strange… nope, you walk alone. Liar, that you can never be when it comes to love that I will always and forever feel for my son, that you have for him. Still, nothing helps, does it. When he died, a part of me died with him, and now it’s like you’re frozen there. You can’t move, why should you? Lie down next to Braxton for all those years and now when he gets up… Like three weeks ago, get up. Willing To Lie Braxton

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 219 ~For Will, Pancakes, Braxton~

I don’t want to talk about other people’s stories now. It’s only been a few days, and I keep thinking I should write out Braxton’s. That is when I can see straight for a little while. Not from hunger but too many tears. “For Will, Pancakes, Braxton.”

Friday, February 5, 2021

Gospel 219 ~For Will, Pancakes, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I still buy pancakes. I’ve told the pancake stories, and here we go again, ready?

Braxton was young, and I was too old to still live with my Olds; much too old. I had a thing for Aunt Jemima French Toast, or maybe it was waffles. One morning after getting breakfast, I forgot a drink and left the food sitting on my bed. I come back and find this ball of fluff soaked in syrup, a big grin on his face, happy as can be. Well, the next day, I sit a plate of pancakes out of his reach. My Mom comes by and says, “You must really love pancakes.” That’s how I love my son. I would start saying, “I love you like pancakes,” meaning I placed him higher than anything in my life. My heart, my mind, Heaven…

When he was born, though… I wasn’t there. He came into my life in the hands of his grandfather. Braxton couldn’t have been more mine, but he started as a “gift” to my sister. I should have treated him as my “present” every day, but come another Sunday and TWD…

“When you were, uh, pouring the Bisquick, were you trying to make pancakes?” from TWD.

I made Braxton my son. He made me a better man, an alright one, a father. He died Sunday but today’s not that story. Not for you anyway, as I try to block it out, but it plays again; my little boy, dying there. I’ll start crying again, and not a day has gone by without tears. Making other kids…

No, not one could sit in my lap the way he did; how he would curl up as if I were a plate and he was a pancake. No matter what, he was a little prince, and I was his throne. Sometimes he would bring his toy like a scepter and sit it beside me. He would place it in my lap when he rather not be bothered. Near the end, he would lie there, sweating, “leaking” I don’t know what. I still haven’t washed the sheets or his stuff. If it weren’t for work, he would always be on my jeans. Everyone tells me to eat, and right now… Hell, my stomach will be filled, but I am empty. Needing, For Will, Pancakes, Braxton.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 218 ~Eyes Have It Will~

First off, I won’t be talking to Dirty Diana anymore. Thursdays are now for Braxton, well, every day, but I wanted to talk to him today. There would have never been enough time as I sat there or when he was here with me. Eyes Have It Will he is.

Thursday, February 4, 2021

Gospel 218 ~Eyes Have It Will~

Just Me Baby B,
I’m sorry! It’s like I ordered onion rings instead of fries. The way your eyes would light up; Braxton, your eyes.

Your grandma says I should remember the “happy” times. I’m trying, but that doesn’t really mean anything, does it? The look you gave me knowing that. “Daddy, can we go home?” You struggled, but always, you were so strong, never wanting me to worry. Did you understand as you walked along to your water bowl? When the assistant, carried you. As we sat there waiting. “I don’t like it here. Why are you crying? Let’s go home.” I should have told them, give me those last few days. Fuck my job, fuck everything, and have you stay because all you wanted was to come home. At least I keep telling myself that. And you are here, the moment I returned and saw your gate waiting.

Were you looking towards those pearly ones or The Rainbow Bridge? You didn’t even look at your leg; they taped up for…Braxton, you looked at me. It’s been that way, always and forever. Since your syrupy face days. When I was a troll still living with my parents. Every morning you would run to the gate, my little Cerberus. You’d come back, “aren’t you proud dad, huh dad.” When I would come back from the Day Job and fall into bed. You’d nuzzle me and turn towards the door. I’d find you sitting there on the end of the bed, waiting for any sign of life. I knew before she even said the words. I knew. Your eyes, that spark, our time together, “He’s gone.”

Betrayal, Bad News, Be Alive, B III, please like before. Only the words wouldn’t come, and what could they do now. What could I do? That final look somehow encompasses everything. “Why can’t I stay?” “You Bastard!” “But Daddy?” “Goodbye.” It made it, I don’t know what, as I walked along. Your bed, collar, toy, leash, hoodie, and everyone saw. You were looking, I know. Despite all these things that I have done, it’s as if the world vanished. For some reason, I looked to the sky, and in the sun, it was like you were looking right at me, saying, “I’m still here, Daddy, it’s okay.” I believe you…

“Be good, Daddy. I love you. Make good decisions.” Watch over me, Braxton, I shall try. Eyes Have It, Will.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Lesson 046 ~You Can Hate Me~

Not my theme song as of yet, though plenty of people hate my kind, I, on the other hand, am an equal opportunity hater but that doesn’t help with the question where is the love “You Can Hate Me,” maybe I know plenty of people that do in fact

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Lesson 046 ~You Can Hate Me~

Hey Lady Lu,
No Fear, but is it truly so bad, if we have equal rights, if I don’t have to pretend to like you, if I can be me and you can be you and no I’m not talking about separate but equal like back in the day, that wasn’t fair, no not at all. What I mean is, for some Luna, I talked about this last night, I don’t want to make the effort to pretend; I know there is such a thing as courtesy, but there is a fine line between being friends and then being friendly.

Work is not the place I go to make friends *cough* “Okay” *cough* “Gospel Girl” *cough*, so what can I say I like a particular type of girl but I consider myself one for equal opportunity with different women. Isn’t that profiling though, I mean how many of those white supremacists know anything about different races, other than what they have been taught to believe. Don’t I have experience on my side when it comes to people, as I said equality, the people I want to make an honest effort with I’ll most certainly try.

Hate though, still not religious but why does God make it so easy, he’s pretty equal to when you consider ending the world with a flood, Lot’s family, Job, and others, he made an effort and screwed everybody else. It’s not an old concept my dear Luna, I want to be friendly but I don’t want to be your friend, I’m not talking about us of course, you and I are friends, even through the years of not speaking I hope. Why is it we all hate to be hated or even worse ignored, I’m exactly the same in that I want to be liked, but I also want to be left alone most days.

So why am I hated if I’m not one for doing anything at all, hated for existing or as I talked about last night the fear of how I, how they, how we might go about changing the world, the status quo. I’m not superior to anybody but don’t I want to be, at least where money and power are concerned, I can be a bit hoity-toity here and there.

“A man’s sexual choice is the result and the sum of his fundamental convictions… He will always be attracted to the woman who reflects his deepest vision of himself, the woman whose surrender permits him to experience a sense of self-esteem. The man who is proudly certain of his own value will want the highest type of woman he can find, the woman he admires, the strongest, the hardest to conquer–because only the possession of a heroine will give him the sense of an achievement.”
― Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

I’m sure I told you in a former life that my grandmother said I was full of pride, can you believe that, me with pride but I do see it from time to time. Why would anybody hate me, Luna, I’ve been raised in the south but most people that look down on me are my “own” people, yeah I’ve had my share of racism but compared to what?

When I go shopping I always go for name brands, I can’t do the general stuff but that’s not me flaunting superiority is it, there honestly is a difference in quality is it not? What about certain women, experience Luna, just experience if one type of woman turns me down or hates me outright who am I to continue to show love? Martin Luther King Jr wanted to turn hate into love and it is an admirable goal without a doubt but I cannot show that sort of effort, I don’t need the world to love me… oh yeah, fame.

Why do people hate me, I can look in the mirror and know for a fact that I’m not easy to look at, of course, “Indiana Gone” would have some choice words if she heard me say that. I haven’t said skeevy in a while but yes I am, I won’t deny it, I crossed a line and you know what we both did, we built a wall, well actually I made a trench and she filled it with a wall. For certain it’s because I’m not like them and if I ever was I would hate myself all the more, yeah I want to be loud but not stupid.

Do I consider myself smarter then, if it’s between Shakespeare and football then give me Shakespeare but they don’t have to listen to it if they don’t want? When you hate everything you are to become what they want is the ultimate crime, when they can’t turn you and when you can’t leave because there is nowhere else to go.

“But we make the brain perfect before we blow it out.” ― George Orwell, 1984

How is it they say, if you can’t deal with my worse then you don’t deserve my best, the only thing worse than my outside is within and that’s why I give people a reason to hate me, in a way it’s a public service, making people less shallow. Is it possible to vanquish hate, with an understanding perhaps but humanity prefers love with hatred coming in a close second.

The fact that people hate me at all is something, hatred takes a lot of effort, not thought, effort, though ask me why I hate anybody and while I have my fear I can name dozens of reasons but most people aren’t worth the effort. Indifference is supposed to be worse but I rather have that than you being someone who isn’t worth the effort, making me want to understand and then choosing to hate because it saves some time. If you want to know a time that love came easily when I first saw Braxton, how about the first brunette that somehow captured my heart, or reading “The Gargoyle”.

“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you’re always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call. But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” 10 Things I Hate About You

While I don’t see love on the horizon, I see hate around every corner, I’m going to hate tomorrow, the job, the people, my bank account but I’ll make the effort just to get through it. I hate the failures that will come, that the man I want to be won’t defeat the man I am and I’ll hate him more furiously than anyone else because I know how and I don’t want to hate people more than I already do. I will especially hate the future, if I’m still at the same job, still alone, and Braxton isn’t going to live forever, even today the sound when he wasn’t here but at the groomers, now that Luna is hate.

So what have I learned today, other than I’m making a few claims on the world that I can’t back up, not without somebody bleeding; there was hate then, hate now, and hate in the future so I better find somebody to love that has more than four legs. I shouldn’t hate at all but the world doesn’t bend to my will as of yet so, You Can Hate Me.

I Will Have No Fear