Tag: Father

Gospel 362 ~Though Routine, War Never Changes~

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Whenever I left, I’d tell my son, “I love you, B, I love you, Braxton.” Then I’d face the world and return full of Fear, Anger, and Hate. He made sure I wouldn’t suffer alone. I didn’t notice his routine changing. “Though Routine, War Never Changes.”

Monday, June 28, 2021

Gospel 362 ~Though Routine, War Never Changes~

Hundred And Ninety-Fourth Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should be screaming at someone, screwing someone over. And still sleeping like a baby.

The routine of what I call my life… When B died, routine is what kept me running or instead shambling. To this day, 148, to be exact, I continue to do everything in my Denial. What I can’t seem to figure out; when it comes to the Day Job, is which is worse, Madam? It’s not “Another Day,” I can’t show that indifference anymore. But it was Anger that led to me ignoring my son. No answer is good for me, and why the fuck should I care what the Day Job thinks? Pardon my French, but here I am on this Sunday; Time-Travel, SIGH. The mere thought of the Day Job. “It makes my blood boil. Turns my eyes to flames,” like the song.

I don’t think I ever spoke about what happened with the signs at the Day Job. Once again, why do I give a damn? I screwed the company over, or routine; every moment is my failure. It’s me being STUPID. Next to Braxton’s loss, stupidity is the worst feeling in the world. The third would be that night remembering the Basic Bitch. Fourth, failing to know success. I said this morning that I screwed myself over this weekend. Not doing a thing to help myself. M Anime and I talked, and she’s expecting a war, and I swear I want peace. So why is it I like to fight, to be filled with rage like one of those Infected in “Patient Zero.” Remember the peace

Braxton and I, sitting on the couch. I would read, and he would sleep, perfectly content. I would wake up in bed. And he’d be sitting on the foot, watching the door. The walks we shared together when it was only us. Brothers, warriors he and I but grateful moments. It was always my promise to give him anything, everything, but that’s not the purpose of war. “War can’t give life. It can only take it away.” It feeds on itself, Madam Justice. Yet we continue, and why? It becomes our routine. For only a little while fifteen years, Madam. At least I had an ally, and I wonder why my rage overflows these days. I am The Walking Dead. Though Routine, War Never Changes.

148 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Gospel 359 ~Braxton FOUR The Win~

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The Laws of Four are very different from the Laws of Eight from The Postman. Excuse me, I’ve been watching a lot of movies lately. I always need the background noise, and still, I tell myself stories to get to bed at night. Braxton FOUR The Win.

Friday, June 25, 2021

Gospel 359 ~Braxton FOUR The Win~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m still wondering what steps I took. I know the law… NONE with that money.

Rule Number Four, Braxton, don’t crap in the house. B III and I aren’t rich men, but I was always hoping. His whole life, well, um, the last five years of it, he only had four rules to obey. I shouldn’t even call this a law. If anything, it was being polite; there were times. Rule Number Three, never be afraid to ask me for anything; stealing isn’t necessary. If that sounds sane, it’s from Boyz In The Hood. You know The Pancake Story, or uh call it the “waffle” or “French Toast,” hmm. The first time B ever stole from me, well second, ha. He stole my heart when I met him. I’ll never forget those four little legs so confused trying to run.

Rule Number Two, “I don’t care if you’re sick as a dog or in bed with Beyonce. I call, you show.” That’s from, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, arguably the worst in the franchise. It’s also a law B III lived about 80% when he was well and 100% when he’d get sick. He didn’t want me to worry, not that I called him at all those last days. He walked to his water bowl, he hid under the bed when I doted on him, he stood on the seat. Lady Sophia, I continue to call on him daily, for his meds, for his strength, to hear my voice. Otherwise, I would never speak at all. When I start talking to myself …

“All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke.” ― The Road

Rule Number One, don’t bite the hand that feeds you. I can count the number of times Braxton bit me with one hand. I’m lucky to have the two, and I can only remember one bite, really. It was the time he decided to terrorize my OLDS neighborhood. I grabbed him, and he nearly took my thumb off. That leads us back to rule four because I was so angry I wasn’t walking him, so I suppose my mom did. Another moment he got close to biting, bath time, and he was punished or rewarded… B had to go to the groomers from then on. Sophia, it makes me wonder did I hurt him? I killed him… there’s been no justice. Braxton FOUR The Win.

145 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 355 ~Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die~

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I don’t want to Accept, Acclimate, or Adapt to B’s passing. I broke one vow, but the one I spoke on January 31st, “everything stays the same,” remains unbroken. I look around, and he’s still here but to survive. “Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die”

Monday, June 21, 2021

Gospel 355 ~Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die~

Hundred And Ninety-Third Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I suppose it will take getting used to. Sonless, sinless, salvation

Sonless… my first Father’s Day without Braxton in fifteen years. Well, seeing as how I’m writing this on Wednesday. Speaking of time, I never planned on Braxton, and yet I want to be a Dad to another furbaby and others someday. Only, I’m learning Adaptation. Another word for my hate list is Normal or New Normal. Neither term is ideal, but at least with Normal, I had B III. Again, one of today’s words is Adaptation because with Evolution? It seems so far away. Even though it’s been 141 Days Madame. Existence moves ever forward. Is that my way of saying “Life, Uh, Finds a Way” or “Existence Locates a Path?” Is it the man or the road? In a way, I think it’s both.

“There’s a saying – the pessimist looks down and hits his head. The optimist looks up and loses his footing. The realist looks forward and adjusts his path accordingly.” TWD

“Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?”
― Garth Nix, Sabriel

Sinlessness is, of course, impossible. As the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus,” or at least I want to avoid a “political” discussion at the moment. I understand Jesus, though, because if I could take all of Braxton’s bad upon myself, I would. Only B III died. Madame, I let him go, and what did I receive? Braxton’s out there somewhere happy. These days I get to explore who I am, and every time I look in the mirror, I hate myself. Ok, now I’ve said J, I got cash, ha. Oh, “but in the end, it doesn’t even matter,” Linkin Park. I drift farther and farther away from the Daddy that Braxton honestly knew to become… I don’t know or care.

Salvation is beyond my reach because while I can’t adapt to life without Braxton, “I Don’t Wanna Die.” Isn’t this what they mean by a “Mad World.” Will I stop with all the music references? I broke my vow last week but with this one, who knows. There’s clarity now. Like Super Mario knowing that his quest will never end as there’s always another journey. So he adapts from being a plumber to whatever he needs to be. Yet didn’t he forget his brother eventually, his princess, and even the real world for a time? He wants to survive despite everything and anything. I want to say I’m not sure, but of course, I’m still here, isn’t that right, Madame? Unless I’m lucky, Time Travel. Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QpvHkBNGrlI

141 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 352 ~Good And B Days~

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I’ve never been one for holidays. I hate my birthday, I’m sure I forgot my “father’s” this week and the last holiday Braxton, and I could have had… Hell, I didn’t even buy him another plushy. “Good And B Days,” good on Juneteenth, but where’s B again

Friday, June 18, 2021

Gospel 352 ~Good And B Days~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and there’s plenty I want to do. Bring Braxton back, buy an island, make a holiday.

I should say something about Juneteenth. Could I get the COVID vaccine today to celebrate freedom or Saturday, hmm? Um, yep, I woke up late again today but then again, so did Texas. Am I cracking jokes, Lady Sophia? Is today awfully good, awesomely bad? Any day B had food in his mouth was good for him; Thanksgiving, Christmas, B-Day. Let’s start with Thanksgiving, which to him was his Christmas. My Ma always sends something over, which would mean plenty of sharing. Now, aren’t I terrible because I did to Braxton what SOME did to the Native Americans? One good meal, a disease, and a trail of tears ever since. Have I offended you yet? To think history was once my favorite subject Lady Sophia.

Like having Christmas Brunch with my Olds, of course, that was when B III and I still lived with them. When we “moved out,” most holidays became a distant memory. Can I use not giving Braxton something else to pee on as an excuse? I didn’t get him a gift. Sophia, how many times have I told that story of our last Christmas? We spent it here, no Santa, no sleigh, a relatively Silent Night. It wouldn’t be if we were ever invited to brunch again, or do I have that wrong? We would be deaf by the end as he barked up a storm. What I wouldn’t give to hear that bark again. It’s July, but I’ll feel about Christmas as Sheldon Cooper does.

Or how about Leonard on his birthday? You know how I feel about my “Emergence Day.” Braxton and I never made a big deal out of my Emergence or his Birth. I don’t even remember celebrating it. Not until it was only Braxton and me, leading to a problem. Okay, so I’m a broken record, but we never knew the exact day. Well, our lonesome vet appointments began in February. I know on the fifteenth that’s half-price chocolate day and a cleaning nightmare. I didn’t have a lover on Valentine’s, so the thirteenth was practical, his birthday. Braxton has refused to eat twice in his life. So Braxton overate on his birthday once. Then on the last days before his death. Good And B Days.

138 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 348 ~A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret~

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Conan became a King. He sat upon his throne with a troubled brow. Before, his life was full of high adventure. Only now, I feel like when he was pushing that wheel, bored thinking about life. A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret, I was bored of B?

Monday, June 14, 2021

Gospel 348 ~A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret~

Hundred And Ninety-Second Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and already I’m thinking I’m okay with it. I’ll make more tomorrow…

When I get up at 6:30 in the morning, instead of 4:00, the day is already ruined. When I have to get up for the Day Job, I’ll still be hating that week I wasted doing nothing at all. As always, Madam J, this is not Depression but instead shame. This is not okay ever. I should at least be saving money because what was it I said yesterday about spending $150 on Maitland Ward’s Yabbos. Um, that’s $140 now as I spent $10 on “Rachel McGuire’s.” Oh, all I’ve got thus far, can I say I’m so thankful with any one of them, hmm? Hell, would me getting that tattoo for Braxton be something that will make me feel better, Madam? I don’t know.

Also, yesterday I talked about Dakota Skye’s passing but did I look up some of her work? As the song goes, I won’t go getting “Tired Of You.” The fact that I’m still talking about this proves it. Yet I didn’t do any searching other than for a good picture. I do that for B. However, Madam, these past few weeks have been all about the things I do because B III isn’t around. I wrote of renewed vows and ended up breaking it in the same day, and for what? Do I regret going all out for “Stuff And Thangs?” In a way, yes, but I’m not bored yet… I’ve been living on background noise, but something woke me. Make Way For The King

Only it was the young prince who died first. Braxton would expect more from me than sitting here wondering why I’m not dead yet. If I am only going to sit around waiting for the end. I should at least get the vaccine. Definitely want to prolong what’s become Hell. I was never lonely or, let’s say, overcome with ennui when I was with B III. I’ll never get over being here reading a good book and him by my side. I wasn’t bored with life Madam Justice, I was angry at it, but I said Another Day to keep down the boiling blood. I couldn’t, and I became indifferent to the one that loved me the most, Braxton. And the moment that happened, Madam… A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret

134 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 345 ~Good Morning B, Sorry~

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Last week I talked about “sleepytime,” and this one, I’m still as lazy. Only more to the point of what it was/is like to wake up with somebody that loves you. Other than Braxton, I can’t say I have much experience. Good Morning B, Sorry, but rest now

Friday, June 11, 2021

Gospel 345 ~Good Morning B, Sorry~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how’s that for waking up with gratitude. I suppose I’m grateful for sleeping even more.

As always, a note that I’m not suicidal, but if I could sleep forever… Again I woke up at 4:00 AM, said my stomach hurts, and fell back asleep. I didn’t have anything pressing, hmm. Braxton wasn’t here to step on my face. His fur wasn’t all over the place. I’m sure he would have found something to bark at by now. I’d take those mornings over this, I know. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate them more. Inspector Echo is one to hear my confessions. Braxton is somewhere resting upon the perfect comfy spot that he’s still digging into, bet. The last day he was with me, he was lying beside me, but we’ll get to that. Oh great, now my tears have found comfort.

I would tell B III I was sorry before I even told him good morning. Then, of course, I’d follow with another apology. Sorry for waking him up, a morning with meds, then yep, sorry B, but keeping you alive…

On my off days, he would be the one waking me up for his morning walks. I was the lazy one, and he would jump around until I was ready to go. It’s a toss-up to eat or walk. There were, of course, those nights when I was writing, thinking, “I’m Gonna Be Somebody.” I already was Lady Sophia. I am B III’s Daddy, but those were late bedtimes. If I had done something, it would have been worth it, but here’s a question. Where am I this gray morning?

Like Friday, January 29, 2021, I’m sitting in bed reviewing a story, only it happens to be Braxton’s now. Gospel 212 On The “Will” Succubus… what the fuck, ignorance, insanity. At the same time, I was petting Braxton, telling him I was sorry he felt sick. I called Braxton’s vet after four hard days at the Day Job, never once thinking about THE END. Lying in his own bed that Sunday as I held him, seeing his little brown eyes fight for life. I’m sorry, it’s okay, you can rest, the words flowed from me. I wish I had told him, Sleepytime, Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams. But, I do now, knowing that as the alarm rings, I’ll walk downstairs saying Good Morning B, Sorry.

131 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 341 ~The Walking Dead, Living Sit~

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Now I wish I could say the zombies came before… it doesn’t matter, but it looks like I have to start again. It’s a new world, but in July I’ll be writing about the old one. My loss, my learning, and living without B III. The Walking Dead, Living Sit.

Monday, June 7, 2021

Gospel 341 ~The Walking Dead, Living Sit~

Hundred And Ninety-First Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now and isn’t this how I always imagined it would be. First and always, a father; a writer?

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves as it comes to Rule 191. I should also choose my words with care, considering the goings-on in the world today. I’m sure I’ve talked about this with several of the girls and B. No, not his death again, but that railyard incident, damn. You know how I feel about my Day Job. Every day I talk about it’s like dying there, and Braxton indeed was. If I hadn’t been a zombie for four days, B III might be alive. Instead, five days passed, and you saw his peaceful end. It’s like Army of the Dead, and I’m Vanderohe. Even if I get out, Madam Justice, what will I become? Who will I be? And no, I’m not suicidal.

I may sit at my laptop and bleed, but that’s how I know I’m still alive. How many times, let’s see, 127 days have I mentioned my lost boy. That pain isn’t going anywhere, and you could give me more if it brought Braxton back home. Better Bargaining than Depression. Anyway, as I said, this is how I plan to make my billions by writing? First million, because I have a dream, I have a plan. Yet the know-how dear Madam J. If I’m alive, there is always time to learn something new. Maybe I wish I could go back to all those classes. Say what? You know how I hate the word “STUPID,” going back to school… oh my Madam, ahem, really FUCKING STUPID!!!

Less STUPID is my “Stuff And Thangs.” Seeing as how I’m a time traveler presently. I do wonder, am I a monk now? Nope! I’m trying, and I know I don’t want to give up yet. What is it that my motivations would always say? If it were easy, then everyone would do it, right? I talk about walking or standing and about sitting but lying down, I swear. As always, this is Inspector Echo’s racket, but here’s a confession. I almost broke this afternoon being Monday, May 31, 2021. The night before, I was all sorts of discombobulated, honestly. Nothing is permanent, Eric Thomas says. My vow, my rules, the boy that I thought would live forever, my Braxton. The Walking Dead, Living Sit

127 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 338 ~B The Dream Within~

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I’d sing to B plenty but a lullaby before “sleepytime.” He was always busy guarding the house, protecting me in my laziness, or stuffing his face. Sleepytime was the only time we dreamt together. Then one Wednesday afternoon… B The Dream Within.

Friday, June 4, 2021

Gospel 338 ~B The Dream Within~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But instead of dreaming about those billions, new books, or my boy, last night was terrible.

Might I write out some of my dreams tomorrow? Today, of course, being Day 124 is all about Braxton’s dreams. If my pictures are any indication, I watched B III sleep a lot. It’s the least I could do as he did the same for me when I would come from the Day Job. No wonder I’m so exhausted. Besides, you know, manual labor. I don’t have anyone watching my back anymore, so I have to be on guard. When I was awake, it was my turn; no words necessary, yet I still ask the question. What are you dreaming, Little B? Vittles mostly? Lady Sophia, you don’t know how badly I want to believe that. He had his good dreams but also some nightmares.

As I said before, I could tell you about my nightmare. Usually, I only sleep that of the dead. Hell, at least Braxton and I could be together, other dreams I’ve written down before. Having escaped work yesterday, I wish I would have slept more. To see B on duty, I’ll always miss him on his perch. There were the days he would lie out in the sun as I worked downstairs. I continue to carry his pillow and place it under the table. Yet today, I’m working on the couch, partly because my shoulder hurts and after my betrayal. Now I used to think B III was pretty annoying when he woke me up, but you know what? If anything, he stopped my nightmares.

Most of them appear in the daylight now. The first is always a world without my son. There is no waking up from this but only a feeling against my ankles; an imagined bark echoed. You know when everybody wants me to shut up, there’s this one like yesterday that asks. So where’s that little puppy of yours? Braxton passed away; beats I’m a murderer. Cause what am I now? I can’t say I’m a monk anymore after 161 Days. Once again, my attempt at asexuality started before Braxton’s death. I don’t deserve to feel good, and even after the moment it happened, “Stuff And Thangs.” There was my shame. I hope Braxton was resting and not watching his Dad fall. B The Dream Within

124 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 334 ~Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven~

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I remind myself it’s not just another day. “I wish I could say something classy and inspirational” for Memorial Day, but I know it’s Day 120. The defender of my kingdom, a “Real One,” is dead. “Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven,” what’s better than a dog?

Monday, May 31, 2021

Gospel 334 ~Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven~

Hundred And Ninetieth Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but THEY say that money is the root of all evil. I don’t believe that, Madam Justice.

I love my son, and with that, as Sade sings “No Ordinary Love,” I would carry out evil. Indiana Gone and I would “joke” about our children, but really any parent of a fur baby would say the same. Anyone would fight, steal, and kill to keep them safe, Madam. Interestingly, I would call this place Hell, which it is now because I didn’t know how good I had it. I’m sure I’ve talked about how cold it is. So cut off the air conditioner, duh. I can’t imagine what it would be like to feel right again. Little B beside me once more. Madam, to have such love? To give such love? I would instead have my grief and nothing more. Am I afraid?

Haven’t I said over and over that not much frightens me anymore? Well other than falling into Depression (Fourth Stage of Grief). I’m sure I’ve mentioned Dante’s Inferno, and each stage is like one of the Nine Circles. For Dante, it was Treachery, mine, Acceptance. So give me all the 404 errors or dubious musings; yesterday, the horror, the horror. Madam, the whole world could know about my “Stuff and Thangs,” I lie here unashamed. Worst of all is a broken what, “vow?” If I were getting paid, I would have done so, and yet? I haven’t, Madam Justice, but you must understand I’ve never gone so long like this. The man I see on the screen knows such bliss but knew even greater. Braxton

Once you’ve been a Dad, a brother, a best friend, a hero, how do you ever go back to a man? I won’t ever regret a single day I spent with my son, even the last one. It’s been 120 days for those keeping score at home. How could I ever think that meeting that little ball of fluff was a mistake? Madam, such a thing was evolution but now why do men fear death? It’s like the prisoner who has been institutionalized and now fears for life without walls. How about when Rogue took Captain Marvel’s powers, and she is back to Carol Danvers. Braxton is a blessing and the Devil I knew, my Daemon. Nothing greater for me

Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven

120 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 331 ~B In Present Tense~

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Boys and their toys; B was never a toy and usually not a dog. He is my son, and the things he liked most he could eat. He had lots of toys, though, and I told myself after Christmas, I’ll make it up to you when you’re 16 but then… B In Present Tense.

Friday, May 28, 2021

Gospel 331 ~B In Present Tense~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would buy Braxton a ton of toys. A swimming pool full of fries

Before that, there was Blue. Well, we never gave the big blue dog a name, but he was Braxton’s fifth friend. I suppose, like any father, I wanted to teach my son to fight. Who am I kidding, right? I saw a big dog a few days ago and spent another minute in the car. B III made me brave, but I’m also a black man living in America. After a while, it wasn’t safe to walk with Lucille, a plastic bat, or even a slightly skinny stick to protect us. I don’t mean to sound “political.” Long story short, I saved us from pets but B. That boy was my salvation from people. So we sat there wrestling; he’s undefeated against the Blue dog.

Braxton grew up as growing boys do. I never had the heart to get him neutered. Another part of my Bargaining (Five Stages of Grief). If I had done so, perhaps he would still be alive today. Hell, sometimes I was, as the song goes, “a motherfuckin’ P-I-M-P,” for B. Plenty of people wanted him to breed. A Pure Blood Deer Head Chihuahua, in case you’re wondering why I’m such a dog snob now. If I had to do it all over again, I would have liked to meet B’s kids like I wanted him to love mine. He only had a stick of TNT. “I’m not crazy or anything,” it was a plush toy he had for his Stuff and Thangs. Indiana Gone saw

She also saw B III in love with his favorite toy, a red monster hairdryer plushy she gave him. It was his favorite toy in the whole wide world. He could smell her on it, and every so often, I get a whiff of him. Of all the toys in the world, it was the one I placed beside him. Now I’m going to cry again, remembering him lying in his bed, my arms around him. There was my black hoodie lying in his bed and that toy. If he had a choice, the choice I took from him, B would have given the toy to me for my comfort. He knew before I did.

No toy for Christmas or Birthday… B In Present Tense

117 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will