Gospel 345 ~Good Morning B, Sorry~

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~

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~

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~

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~

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

Gospel 327 ~Fire, Iron Evaporate The Enemy~

I could use a drink, but I’ve stopped with the Jell-O shots for now for some reason. Plus, I’m not a girl that just turned 21, ha-ha. I don’t want to sound like an old man with all the liquids, but I am a warrior. Fire, Iron Evaporate The Enemy, hmm.

Monday, May 24, 2021

Gospel 327 ~Fire, Iron Evaporate The Enemy~

Hundred And Eighty-Ninth Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now but not from the Vaccine. Must I keep talking about the COVID-19 Vaccine? How about my son?

I would indeed talk about good things than my enemies. Hell, Madam Justice, there are enough tears and blood in the world without me adding to the flood. Now, of course, I did earlier on this “Saturday” morning. Yes, it’s the return of time travel. Monday sucks! I suppose it could be worse; is there a knife in anyone’s ribs? Am I behind bars? THEY say the pen is mightier than the sword, or how about a finger, the press of a button. Don’t I owe it to B to know how I killed him? There were far too many tears on that day, Madam. Then the tears fell to the flames thanks to the fucking ASM. My second betrayal; giving way to Anger, dammit.

A confession is more for Inspector Echo, and I’m sure I’ll tell her this as well. Sometimes a tear gives way to laughs. Copious Cleavage, Titanic Ta-tas, Supersized Slobber knockers. Thank you, Shelby, from Girlfriend Reviews. I’ve had my tears for B earlier, um yep. I told Indiana Gone the other day about all the marriages and babies I see all around me. So much life, and I do want to be a father again. Who knows, there might be some puppy right now nursing waiting for me. Madam Justice, I cannot prophesy. However, I’m talking to you from the past, and all I can be sure of is war. Fire and Blood, Winter is Coming, Ours is the Fury. Hate is inevitable, Madam Justice.

It’s not like THEY want anything else from me, at least from the email I got this morning. Talk about “stuff and thangs,” and I can’t stress this enough, I’m a monk, but why, hmm? I would say spit it out, but there’s a reason I don’t talk to people at the fucking Day Job. Do you think that my language has changed over time? I’ll keep my mask regardless. Maybe I should get into drinking Madam Justice. I did buy some Jell-O shots from Walmart. Yeah, I’m still mad at them for cheating me, but alcohol fixes everything, right? No, the fact remains as the song goes, “I’m only human after all.” I love Braxton, wanted a goddess and Fire, Iron Evaporate The Enemy.

113 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 324 ~Go To Bed B~

Right now, I want to go back to sleep and see if I can find Braxton. Hell, John Wick got another dog, and I dreamt I was Mr. Wick last night. It’s better than the dreams of my actual crime, and B III can’t wake me up anymore. “Go To Bed B.”

Friday, May 21, 2021

Gospel 324 ~Go To Bed B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can sleep without the money. Dare I say without the girl? But there’s Braxton.

Besides my tattoo, I’ve been thinking about getting one of those “Cuddle Clones.” Still, I haven’t been able to decide between B III sleeping or being awake. Braxton slept well. Okay, so that’s something you tell a baby, “oh, you’re such a good sleeper.” I’ve told the story of Braxton being my “pancake” and curling up in my lap as I sat working on stories. The Wednesday before he died, he didn’t take his post at the corner of my bed after I got back. He didn’t crawl on my legs, looking towards the door. B cried and my response. Father of the year says, “Go To Bed B,” like he hadn’t been sleeping all day. Still, he crawled under my arm, staying beside me.

There will always be the story of when I thought I left him outside all night. Of course, I didn’t. Only I was out running around in the morning while Braxton slept in his house. Any day when I was leaving, he would formulate a plot to get me to stay. He knew I wouldn’t leave him inside the bedroom. Denial, it seems, moving his bed and the dog gate. With the Day Job, Braxton gave up. It was too early even for him, or he knew I had made my choice like “Six: The Mark Unleashed.” The last free choice, the wrong choice Sophia. Yes, I’m still freaking out about the COVID-19 Vaccine. I’m not a man of faith; I deserve Hell… I’m there.

“I’d tell you to go to Hell, but I think you’re already there.” Jack Valentine

Because telling Braxton, he could rest either was an act of mercy or a fucking crime. I’ll tell the story of when I placed his water next to him. Braxton walked to its usual place. When he was dying, he wouldn’t sleep in the car. Braxton wouldn’t even lie down, not my son. Braxton fought for every single second of his life and what he wanted was to come home. Sometimes I’ll move his favorite toy to his spot on the bed, to the couch. I’ll keep it on my lap. Braxton was preparing me for “Times Like These.” I dreamt I was John Wick and Braxton was nowhere to be found. I slept longer, hoping when I woke… “Life finds a way;” “stuff and thangs.” Go To Bed B.

110 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 320 ~Leash Your Demons, Never Tame~

Braxton’s leash is free and remains unused for what is now 106 Days and counting like all of his other things. Meanwhile, there is no stopping the mighty dollar, my mourning, or my mooning. Leash Your Demons, Never Tame.

Monday, May 17, 2021

Gospel 320 ~Leash Your Demons, Never Tame~

Hundred And Eighty-Eighth Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now. I have my boy, and I own a brothel. It’s fun dreaming…

Let’s start with the first; if I had a billion dollars. Of course, the song is If I Had A Million Dollars, but I dream big, or still of Braxton. The money doesn’t matter much anymore, not after B III. If I want to try again, though… All I’ve read on fur babies says it’s natural, betrayal; Madam Justice, not betrayal but guilt. Let’s meet in the middle and call it Treachery. But like all my sins, I am one to downgrade myself to greed. It’s one of the reasons this week I want to focus on getting my tattoo of B III. It will be expensive, I guess, but Braxton’s life? B’s worth everything. With anger, I blame greed. Money is the root of all evil, The O’Jays sing.

So why couldn’t I save him? I’m beginning to move more and more into Bargaining, but you know I don’t want to. It’s like Dante making his way through the circles of Hell, and what is the next? More beats, more breaths, and blankets full of tears. Today’s date 106. Hell, I couldn’t stop Braxton even when he knew he was dying. What a horrible thought? Do you think he accepted that while everything in him told him to keep going? Fuck Madam Justice, I’m one fucked up human being, but the thought of hurting my child, I could never. It’s still so weird that on one side of the coin, I’m free. On the other without my Cerberus to guard me, I’m a monk.

This, of course, guides me to my worse “sins” I gave up Dirty Diana, I believe Thursday, February 4, 2021. I haven’t done “stuff and thangs” since Thursday, December 24, 2020. It’s when I wanted to be a better father, and I should have gifted B with a mother, right? I’m only a man (snickers.) I saw someone ask (Onlyfans girl) when did she think of herself as an adult. I can’t tell you like she did when she said she bought her own house. My Olds took out a mortgage. They pay some of the bills. I have a job, hobbies (stuff and thangs.) Yet I am Braxton’s father? To leash the horny fanboy. Become someone Braxton’s proud of. Trying Madam Justice, I’m trying. Leash Your Demons, Never Tame

106 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

Instead of looking for the perfect woman, the goddess, I’d like to think of a girl that would love Braxton as much as I do. I’m already crying enough for two, so let some woman kick my ass for what happened to him. “Ask Your Mother B.”

Friday, May 14, 2021

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because I’m “creative,” or I like to think. Thinking about who Braxton’s Mom is.

She would have to be an early riser. I know I haven’t been the past few days. It’s going 8:30 AM about, which is super late for me. If there’s light in the sky, we walk him and me. Hell, I couldn’t even open the back gate a few days ago. It’s not me being sad, just the rain, hmm. Braxton would want her to be a better cook, not that he ever complained about mine. I can’t help wondering did all those McDonald’s fries have something to do with his passing. They last forever, you know. With all the food both B III and I shared, I killed him. Once again, I will never let go of that point. Then again, Mom blames herself.

Not that I would want Braxton’s Mom doing that. No, I am guilty. If she wants to blame me… It would be karma catching up to me. My Ma never blamed my “Father” for anything, and see how I feel about that man? To make B think the same of me, oh, that’s a crime, yep. On the other side of the equation, she’s not one of those “wait till your father gets home” types. Shall I imagine such love like my wife being here, and B runs from her to greet me? He chose me over everyone. He loves our kids, loves his Mom, but it’s Dad. I’m back. It took his death to turn me away from boobs, but my life… his world.

Only one woman outside the family held his sway, and that’s my second best friend. I’ve said before how she had to let him walk all over her, sharing four months of food and treats. There was a cake for his birthday and presents. Braxton’s party was an incredible time. His last days though… no Braxton, I’ll carry you, I’ll get you more water, I’ll help you. If any mother could do better, I would welcome that rather than him dying in my arms ever. Ask your Mom to save you even if you hate me for the rest of your life, son. Men save gods all the time; that’s why they’re not gods. Dog spelled backward, and Mother is God. Ask Your Mother B.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

To think that the moment of Braxton’s passing, “home” was the last place that I wanted to be. THEY say that home is where the heart is but with him being gone… It’s at least where I can say “whatever,” in peace. Will Of The B-Cells, no cure or escape

Friday, May 7, 2021

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, only I wish I could have bought Braxton that big house I promised. A yard, family…

I don’t know if you would consider Braxton lucky or like some military kid. Why does love always feel like a battlefield, as the song goes? Whether it be the two “homes” we had with my Olds and then this place, they did pay for; truth. My family’s home Sophia… Whatever do I call it now? Fuck you, ASM. My apologies Lady Sophia but whenever I say “whatever,” I’m set off by the ASM, and I won’t have him tell me how to speak again ever. Not that I’m doing much talking because I can’t even pretend that Braxton is listening anymore. Dammit, I should be ashamed of what I’ve let happen to B III’s home. I had an ant invasion; the backyard is wild. There is such filth everywhere.

Should I burst out with my best rendition of Michael Jackson’s Earth Song? Again I am sorry, Lady Sophia. I want to tell “Happy” stories of Braxton and me, but my hate has tainted everything. I would hold Braxton at night, and he was keeping my heart inside me, yeah. Now my heart died in a cage, and this broken man is all that remains. He didn’t look at this place as a Hell, a prison, or a trap. In these walls, he was safe with his Daddy despite everything. What is this? The third time I’m crying today because of those little eyes, hmm. The look that says, “Daddy can we go home?” It’s what he wanted, I keep telling myself, now smaller boxes.

There’s my urn pendant, the box that remains on my nightstand. The frame that shows our lives together. Please let Braxton be running along the Rainbow Bridge. My Braxton could be guarding the gates of Heaven or Hell. How about Braxton finding the eternal comfy spot. All it took was something inside him, killing him for five days, causing his chronic renal failure. I know it takes longer than that, but then there was the hatred that surrounded me. Love B shed and shared like so many hairs, Braxton saying, I will try to fix you. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t visit me. He can’t stand to see his Daddy like this, and I don’t blame him. This was his home, Will Of The B-Cells.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will