Tag: Gospel

Gospel 346 ~Be Something B Cause~

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I’ve said this before, how my Ma would say, I would find my way. My aunt would say I wanted to destroy the world. She was wrong “in a way,” I only ended my world, which is why Braxton ain’t here. Be Something B Cause it’s getting hard to breathe

Saturday, June 12, 2021

Gospel 346 ~Be Something B Cause~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I were Eric Thomas, I’d be a millionaire. I know what’s what. I’m here.

It’s 4:30 in the morning, and Eric Thomas wakes up at 3:00. Hell Lady Lu, I’ve woken up at 2:00 for far less money and for what. We both know the answer to that. At the same time, I have stayed up until 4:00 in the morning. So like a Backstreet Boy, tell me why. 132 days, and like the moon, which is your namesake, B III’s smell has yet to disappear. At the moment, he is lending me his strength, giving me focus, purpose, cause. I have a dream, and now it’s time to put that vision into action. Perhaps this is merely insanity. Haven’t I mentioned Eric Thomas, The Backstreet Boys, and MLK in the span of a few minutes? It’s too early.

Which is what I told myself when Braxton lay dying. I’m not ready yet, but I’m a fighter, a friend, a father. Any of that sounds better than a Freight Associate; excuse me, I’m more Operational now. But, of course, that would be fine if I was building Death Stars. First off, and I believe I’ve told you or one of the girls before, my aunt was wrong. Destroying worlds is not something I agree with. Yet, I would take that in comparison to what I do for a “living.” Only this week, I’ve squandered extensively so many days, yep. To think I would use Braxton as an excuse, but he was also a reason. Now he is but a memory driving these words forward.

I found myself in the store yesterday questioning what’s it all for. I stood in the same spot I once had on January 31, picking out a digital frame for his pictures. Yes, tears Lady Luna. Ironic I don’t want him to see me now as I picked out a tripod to hold my phone for “Stuff And Thangs.” I still haven’t quit that foolishness… what about my vow and everything? I can’t keep saying tomorrow; how about July when I write my book about him. With all the letters I have ready to go, and it could always be my laziness in the end. Last year I had a few months to think, not do. Braxton, give me strength to Be Something B Cause.

132 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 344 ~Remember To B III~

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Remember to Be Free of guilt, to Breathe Free, and damn I should add more beef to my diet, but no, and why not. B III isn’t here anymore, and that isn’t my freedom; it is his from the pain, and I need to know that. “Remember To B III.”

Thursday, June 10, 2021

Gospel 344 ~Remember To B III~

130 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine B III begins with a promise I made to apologize to you. I’m sorry.

Be Free of the guilt I carry… NEVER. Even before we started talking today, I burst into tears. At least I’m free of my bed this morning. I made it up, if only to feel like I did ok now. God knows it wasn’t being your Daddy. A strange Dad joke it is when I told you to Be Free, B III? You’d come back. My B had to run the yard. So am I a prison warden, my son? A mourner, a missionary, trying to regain monk status. Things can’t and will not go back to the way they were. This was your place, and I know you’re in a better place now, B. Braxton, I keep telling myself that as you sit there?

Breathe Free, as now I struggle still crying a bit. If I could drop dead right now… You don’t want to hear that, but what I wouldn’t give to listen to your paws or your barking. Anytime I attempt to clean up, I wonder how many of those dust balls have remnants of your hair? It’s why I focus on the bathroom. Only I had to wash the rugs. Ants invaded. As I said before, I’m in prison, but the thing is, I was freer with you than anybody. The best times of my life were lying here reading everything with you jumping my belly. The last free breath I ever took was the one that became your last Braxton. Now every single one costs.

Beefy foods… I should be buying plenty more. If you were here, I would be eating better because you would want me to share. Voluminous vitamins, vittles… vitriol. Braxton, it might not be a lack of sleep but of any decent sustenance, and I continue ticking after 130 days. I’m thinking more with my heart than my stomach. I keep pushing you back in. Then here I go vomiting all of this only to find another picture of you, A thought of you to sustain me for a bit longer. You’d prefer fries B III. Jonesing onion rings. Which hurts more. Well, the first reminds me to share; the latter reminds me I am alone. Neither replaces love. Yet I try. Remember To B III

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 343 ~Forgetting A B 101~

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“Remember me,” and I failed to as I walked into Braxton’s room and saw seven treats when there should have been eight. As much as I’d like to think he came and got it yesterday, I was discombobulated, destroyed, but not depressed. Forgetting A B 101.

Wednesday, June 9, 2021

Gospel 343 ~Forgetting A B 101~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so like Jeff Bezos, Warren Buffet, and Beyoncé with Jay-Z, I’m prone to forget some things?

What I forgot yesterday… my son. No, let’s start off with something small, ha or big, Yabbos. When’s the last time I mentioned those, and it makes me sick. Did I tell you I broke my vow? Now here I’m sitting trying to remember how I forgot about MILF Dos. It didn’t take the world long to move from Lady Dimitrescu to Sam from Samsung. Why not throw Lily from AT&T and Cortana from the Halo franchise into the mix? I swear the Internet hates me right now. It’s never deeper than I hate myself for these last couple of weeks. Nature is healing. Yesterday was a hard-ass day for me, and seeing as how I got a late start this morning, not peeking Yabbos.

No, B is not for boobs, balls, or bitches man, thank you, Warm Bodies. B still stands for Braxton, but what about his boy, the man, the father. What about the quitter? I always can. That’s something I was thinking about while not producing content for “Stuff And Thangs.” Nobody would know in a day, but maybe I should stick to writing. It goes on. Okay, that’s a lie, but it will come in July. By that point, I’ll only be writing about B III. Everything that little ball of fluff meant to me. Only haven’t I forgot publishing GULP. Speaking of books, I’ve started reading Jegudiel by Tillie Cole. It’s as if Fate is saying, “Boy, you’re depressed.” Power outage and book on insanity

“Y’all look at me and say, boy, you’ve been blessed
But y’all don’t see the inside of my unhappiness.”

B is for Braxton and what’s insane is that I could forget anything about him. Yet this morning I didn’t know what I was going to write about and then I noticed something. In his room, there were seven treats but today is the ninth, so yesterday, what the fuck? Inspector Echo, I didn’t greet him. That’s how long it took, one-hundred and twenty-eight days. I don’t have to wonder what drove me from the bed this morning, fucking guilt. I’ll have to remember to apologize to him tomorrow. Um, good luck with that, hmm? I may have lost myself for a while but never Braxton, B III, my buddy, brother, badass son. Winston had rats; my fear is losing Braxton. Forgetting A B 101

129 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 342 ~To B Level Man~

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I told a girl once I couldn’t live without her. To think I agree with my Old Man for once that such a proclamation was really STUPID. That problem when away, but here’s another one, going on without Braxton after 128 days. “To B Level Man.”

Tuesday, June 8, 2021

Gospel 342 ~To B Level Man~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I couldn’t tell you that one day I made it. Opportunity seized, Here Comes Success.

I couldn’t tell you the day goddammit WHEN I first met Braxton Barks. Of course, I’ve told the story a million times over of that moment. The little ball of fluff that would become my world for years to come. And WHEN he left, there was nothing but new questions. I am thinking back to when I was in high school. All I would do is write down math problems. It wasn’t that I liked math as I asked myself WHAT am I doing waking up on the floor. Courtesy of my Old Man. My Love, why you and the kids will never see him. Anyway, there were problems that I couldn’t answer. I didn’t want to because it meant doing things I just couldn’t.

Like, get over B III? That’s never going to happen. WHO would dare say such a thing, well other than my Old Man? Are you asking me to? I’m sorry I don’t mean to get angry though I am holding onto it. Anything beats Depression, and I’ll become depressed ever. So says the man who cries every day over his lost boy. The one who doesn’t care WHERE Braxton is because I know he’s not here despite what I do daily. Call it Denial, pathetic, sad, some form of insanity. Bipolar because a doctor says so, but no not Depression? WHERE would I go then after 128 Days without him. Back into your arms, to the children wanting a daddy, not like my Old Man?

WHY that’s a Hell of an incentive. My Old Man was an angry asshole, and I’ll never be that. Didn’t I say I’m holding it close, hating and destroying myself? WHY because it’s well deserved because I failed when B III needed me most, but you need me, the children. HOW I’ll ever be the man I was, I don’t know yet. I’m still cursing myself because I could even accept your affection for but a moment. To feel anything but this pain is wrong. So here I am once again writing down these problems, tried, measured, and found wanting. Darling Baby Girl, the who, what, when, where, why, and how of my life. Our lives but to share this hurt; To B Level Man

128 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 340 ~To Live After BD~

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The greatest failure of my life is losing my son. Only this week’s “mistake seems as cruel as ever and especially heinous. A weird way to look at “Stuff And Thangs,” don’t you think? “To Live After BD?” I haven’t liked thinking about it for 126 days.

Sunday, June 6, 2021

Gospel 340 ~To Live After BD~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now and pathetic, but to be sure, so are you. The things THEY say about money but you?

It’s not the lack of return, and you for damn sure remember. No, it’s the lack of physical restraint. God, if Braxton were here, you would not be running around the way you are. I was in the store yesterday dreaming up methods to make money because of the Day Job. Yeah, I don’t want to go, and you’re definitely pissed about the prospect. Well, that comes next to being fucking mad at yourself, no doubt. I’ve been the same this week; ashamed, anxiety-ridden, an asshole. However, to make it stop without quitting, answers, please. Only you don’t have any because I didn’t either. A greater one would be how to live without B III? Why not get this over with, failing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Spontaneous by Aaron Starmer
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 156 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001) No Fap
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of Braxton
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

How you hate writing these words. Failed is going to have to go up there with the most hated words. While you’re on the subject of that, what about your writing for “Stuff And Thangs.” You think no one wants to see that. Then they’re not looking at you either. You’ve grown used to it, well, not your teeth which is one more thing you should add to the Impossible, right? Hell living in this moment of BD should be just that. I was telling M Anime only last night. There’s no clue what I’m doing. This morning isn’t different. Yeah, the rage is coming back, the ANGER. You got to be mad at something, and it should be you and yeah, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Jegudiel by Tillie Cole
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of Braxton
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Was I honoring Braxton by becoming a monk? As you can see, I have yet to work on getting that tattoo. He still sits on your nightstand. Today is day 126 since the beginning of BD, or should you say AB. No matter what, the truth will always remain; Failed. Dammit, what if it is the onset of Depression only instead, not crying with your eyes? That’s something that hasn’t changed in all 126 days, my tears, a moment in time to remember. Yes, to take all the blame. Acceptance, don’t ever dare imagine anything. Braxton is gone, and that loss can never be borne by anyone but you. Maybe you’re not so pathetic, hmm. Keep it in your pants. Breathe. To Live After BD

126 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 339 ~It’s Not B Con~

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Convict, Con Man, “Comic-Con,” okay, I’ve only been a bit of a cheat. I went to Juvenile hall once, and why I’ve wanted to go to Comic-Con. There’s plenty I want to see. My son, alive again. I can never forget him. Only, “It’s Not B Con” lately.

Saturday, June 5, 2021

Gospel 339 ~It’s Not B Con~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I ask myself, what am I doing wrong? I’m not jailed, cheating, hosting a panel.

No, my Lazy Ass, Lady Lu. Like today I said I was going to write out my dreams. There was the one where I was playing hockey, all D2: The Mighty Ducks. I’m pretty offended. In one more vision, I had a stalker and not the pretty Autumn Reeser as Taylor Townsend. He was a white man, and nobody heard me until I found his shoes in a plastic case. Last night I dreamed I was at work, and I got into trouble for “Stuff And Thangs.” I saw this sheet with marks by shoes, and the girl said I’d done well but with what I saw on the clock. It took me a minute, but feet were the overlying factor. I’m not that freaky.

If I had to guess, I would say first my feet are cold. Everything comes back to Braxton, and he would lie on my feet. His pillow was always below them, and without Braxton, Luna. The second I think, has to do with what I’m doing now. It’s like I want to be seen, but at the same time, I ain’t going nowhere like a display. Without Braxton, who’s watching? Lastly, the Day Job dream. I should have known better since the girl ragging me hasn’t worked there in years. Hell Lady Lu, I want to leave; B wanted that too. So I stay okay? Again I’m not explaining this to some Federal prosecutor, disappointed Friends. Or adoring Fan base. Even B III left me.

I mean, didn’t I ask him to? Only I remain stuck right here, Lady Lu. One more reason for the ice. When I went to honor B today, I didn’t even put on socks. I think of the 9th Circle. For some reason, I was scared to escape the stalker. As I said, I found shoes, but I needed to get dressed, and I wouldn’t look in the closet. Escape naked… the shoes wouldn’t move. If I did get away from the Day Job, I wouldn’t have anything. The shoes were right or wrong, but not one pair fit me, and so this week I’ve been busy. Prose, Posing, Prayer. Leaving my lips, “Oh God!” Because I’m staying here. The world It’s Not B Con.

125 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 337 ~Digital Sets B III~

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What if Braxton isn’t getting these “letters?” He spent fifteen years, eleven months looking after me, and if he wanted a vacation, I get it. Is that what I’m calling it, the ticking clock until we see each other again? I HOPE. Digital Sets B III yep

Thursday, June 3, 2021

Gospel 337 ~Digital Sets B III~

123 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? To think I’ll get lucky and get to come home early. Work sucks and home…

These days the Day Job is worse. Here I am about to insult you like the mom you never got to meet. What I mean is, being here without you was not one of our walks. I wanted to be anywhere else but with the ASM and my general loathing for the company’s staff. Whoa, I should be careful B III. Noted you were usually asleep while I watched the news. So they were talking about some dude bad-mouthing his company. I usually did that when you were here, but now I’m talking to you like this? It’s best not to think about it. Hell, that’s all I ever do anymore is try not to think about it, Little B. Then again, there’s always you.

Would you have me not think about the 123 days you’ve been gone? I can’t help it, and I don’t ever want to forget. You can see that around my neck every day, my own collar in a certain way. So I come back and what, not think about you? With what I’m doing now? Destiny, Disgusting, Discovery, Dirty, and all thanks to my dog. My son, you will always and forever be that, Braxton. You died, and I don’t want to believe that January 31, 2021, was your time. Besides killing you, I had all sorts of disgusting ideas. But I found you B. On my video camera, even more photos of the two of us “happy,” maybe you. Now everything is dirty, tainted.

THEY say I should let you go, but here I am hoping that you’re not watching me. I want you to be happy and do whatever good boys and girls do on the Rainbow Bridge. Meanwhile, your memory is like me keeping a digital watch. I look, and there it goes, I killed you. I keep track of everything. My phone still buzzes three alarms dedicated to seeing you alive and healthy. So I’m crying again and saying Depression, never. Acceptance would be like owning an analog watch. It would require me to think for a bit, or maybe I’m just lazy, which explains why there is so much work to be done. All you are for the world to see. Digital Sets B III

Always and Forever,
Your Dad