Tag: Guilt

Chronicle 015 ~B Not Another Day~

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Did this day stand out in any way other than “That’s How You Know You Messed Up?” At least I have an idea for another chapter of Braxton’s book. If I am writing Braxton’s book. I’m not even at 25,000 words yet. “B Not Another Day”

Friday, July 16, 2021

Chronicle 015 ~B Not Another Day~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be; if I were more creative and not working the Day Job. Time-Travel

Back to those vet visits in February, and no, not the last one. I mean, the ones I knew B III would be leaving ok and alive. It wasn’t a holiday but a mark on the passage of time. I’d take him in for his yearly exam, and then the idea was to keep him out of there till next. To be fair, this year, his appointment was on January 8, 2021. Then there was the 29th and finally the 31st. Of course, what he didn’t see in February was his 16th birthday. A trip to the vet and his birthday netted the same reward… McDonald’s. B’s birthday was more. Now, if you’re wondering why I’m going over B’s history, yes, there is his book.

I’m trying to find days that were “important” to us and had an actual date too. For example, I’ve said that my “Emergence Day” is no longer the worst day of my life. Yet B was here to see me through 15 of them. I sooner do his math than mine, and so 166 Days. Come November, Thanksgiving Day, which to B III was his Christmas. There was more than enough for us both when my mom would deliver our meal. I’ve said it feels weird when I don’t have to share. These eyes are bigger than my stomach, I told his aunt at lunch. Now that wasn’t another day. Life attempts to be Every Day Is Exactly the Same, but Everything Is Different Now.

Like Christmas, do I go and visit my Olds? Hell, could I do that even if I wanted to for brunch? I wouldn’t go because B III wasn’t invited. It’s not like the two of us celebrated but isn’t that a time for family. When/If I have some family, don’t I plan on it, Sophia? How I wish to remember the day that B hopped in the car, and we drove away, us two ha. I want the day back when we sat on the porch, and I said, “It’s just us now B III, ok?” What about the day before when I finally came back to my Olds, and B III saw me, sniffles? I’m listening to his playlist because; B Not Another Day.

166 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 013 ~Could Use Braxton’s Battery~

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Isn’t it only women that worry about how they look sleeping? I’m too tired to worry about being sexist or not even being as WOKE as I am. Anyway, no one could ever sleep as cute as B III. Now that’s sad, considering… Could Use Braxton’s Battery.

Wednesday, July 14, 2021

Chronicle 013 ~Could Use Braxton’s Battery~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but if I were back then, I would have had eyes on Braxton 24/7, 365 easy.

I’m sorry most of my pictures are of Braxton sleeping. It took me seeing him die for five days to keep up with him. Even then, he would not tolerate me making things easier for him. I still see him, my Baby B, getting up on his own four legs going to his water bowl. It was like in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine 4×26 “Broken Link.” Odo was ill and could barely walk, but he went out like a man, in front of everyone, fighting for every step, yep. How about Best of the Best, when Alex dislocated his shoulder and somehow got back in the ring, fought, and won. B III would have kept fighting for life if I had brought him home.

I wish I could say that watching YouTube or movies like Men of Honor is what I’ve been doing. Oh yeah, Inspector Echo, my time is so precious that I sleep the days away, ok. Yeah, I’m usually unconscious as I lie here in my bed, getting a faint whiff of B even after 164 Days. One day the smell will disappear, and what will I do, Inspector? No recharge? Speaking of which, I have another excuse for you. For two days straight, I’ve been trying to fix the car with my father. The first day cost me my NaNoWriMo daily badge. Yesterday I didn’t work at all. I threw in B III’s letters giving me 10,000 words. I’m behind. So I’m failing my son.

Now, this isn’t new. There’s Braxton, my second best friend, my third best friend, “Stuff And Thangs,” my father. I’m treating this like I’m some heroic survivor in the Andes. The only person I’m eating is my future self. I lack energy for any sexiness. I’m so thankful, but I’m also lying knowing that when the mood strikes me like any film, novel, or song. Hell, that’s the problem; who’s watching or listening to me other than Braxton from wherever. Inspector Echo, will I always hate looking in mirrors? The way Braxton saw me and would run over my head with his paws if I didn’t get up on time. Triple B was my life. But to give that up writing? Could Use Braxton’s Battery

164 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 008 ~A Chapter To B~

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Friday, July 9, 2021

Chronicle 008 ~A Chapter To B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so does that mean I can finally get some sleep? Seeing how far I’ve come now…

Hell No! If anything, I owe 3000 words. Maybe less if you count all of my B III letters. The truth is, for today, I’m pretty wiped out, and I still have much farther to go. I do mean outside the house. At least I have been writing about Braxton in novel form every day. Okay, that’s a lie. I added a hundred words on NaNoWriMo once so I could win the daily badge. Being a half-ass writer as I was being a half-ass Daddy. So what is my excuse this week, other than the vaccine’s side effects? “Fatigue” sounds like a made-up word Sophia. If I haven’t said it before (yeah, right), I got my second dose coming up. There’s also lunch with Carolina.

Other than work and keeping myself existing, my story has been within these walls. I had the silly notion last night that I would go to the movies today. So I’m all dressed up, but that’s because again, (ahem) EXISTENCE, EXISTENCE, EXISTENCE! Too much! Today going on and on about Braxton got me into such a mood and not really “Fiddler on the Roof.” I’m more like “In The Sun” is that why I’m wearing my yellow hoodie today? Again not Acceptance. I’ll never get tired of the color black and B’s hippy collar. So you’re asking why I am not telling a B III story right this second. After 2,300 words, would Braxton be sick of hearing about himself? And yeah, I still suck.

Even Facebook nailed me talking about the vaccine the other day and dying. Hmm, I’d be worried if I didn’t know that I would get my ass up and go whenever the Day Job calls. If B III hadn’t been suffering, I would have held him and never ventured out. Interesting, another story Lady Sophia, the path not taken. They could have given him medicine to make him eat. Braxton would never make it to 100%, but he would have lived longer. I’m never one to put something off unless it’s good for me. Braxton’s life, publishing a book, games, movies, music. As the song goes, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” A life without B, Lady Sophia? A Chapter To B

159 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 006 ~Bleep, Blah, But Braxton~

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I look at myself in the mirror when I can stand it, and I want to scream, “Shut The Eff Up.” The good news is, that’s not often. I have no qualms about my body, but my face is a whole other story. Braxton had a cute face. “Bleep, Blah, But Braxton.”

Wednesday, July 7, 2021

Chronicle 006 ~Bleep, Blah, But Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and with that amount of money, hmm. I’d get my teeth fixed or just shut up.

Living was so much easier when I was apologizing to Braxton. We’re on day 157, and I haven’t stopped seeking forgiveness. Oh, I learned my lesson, Braxton; my boy’s gone. I’ve been thinking about all the apologies I owe, and I’m not like the former president. All this morning, it was fuck this, fuck that, and with everything I got going on these days. It’s how the THEY say, I’ve got no fucks left to give. Everything I have, all that I am, should be going into B’s novel, and already I’m way behind. I’ve got all this time, Inspector. Of course, this morning, I spent it gaming and on “Stuff & Thangs.” Hell, I didn’t even post, and I fucked-up again. After three days

I did write about 2,000 words, but it’s more of the same I’ve been spouting for, yes 157 Days. I’m starting to feel less like Charlie Brown and more like one of the adults, “waah.” So besides breaking my streak of, you know what, I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut. I’m talking to myself again, which is even sadder because I could at least preach at B III. No, I’m not moving towards that most dreaded word, even worse than STUPID. The big A Inspector Echo… ACCEPTANCE. Never, I say again, never. I keep crying and laying treats, hating myself even more now with all this free time I have going doing nothing. Well, of course, failing, but that’s more of my blah.

Then there’s Saturday, where if I’m lucky, my second vaccine dose may finally kill me. That’s not a joke Inspector Echo. You know me, I love my mask and hate my big mouth. As the song goes, “Hey Jealousy.” Do you remember Cherry? Well, she’s got a podcast. What oh what have been my accomplishments, I ask. A few novels for NaNoWriMo, uh, all unpublished? I have a job I hate and everything else I do to make money, well, have I made any ever? Braxton, being his father, and of course, we know how that ended. So for Saturday… Somehow if I don’t die, I’m having lunch with Braxton’s aunt, Carolina Bound. What shall we talk about? Yeah, I’m sorry, Bleep, Blah, But Braxton.

157 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 001 ~Life On The B-Side~

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Five years ago today, I started writing this blog. An anniversary… you know if you’ve been reading how I feel about holidays… anyone, anyone? To think, when I started, it was because of a “girl” and now the loss of my little boy. “Life On The B-Side”

Friday, July 2, 2021

Chronicle 001 ~Life On The B-Side~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Would that be enough for paradise, Heaven? “Oh, where, oh where has my little dog gone?”

My Lady, this isn’t how I wanted to start the “Chronicles….” Yes, this is the hill I’ll die on, as THEY say. I hoped I had more time to think about it, but seeing how I’m talking to you on a Tuesday afternoon. Say it with me, AHEM, TIME TRAVEL, TIME TRAVEL. So work sucks. Now I mean the Day Job without question, and didn’t I admit today that I love writing. However, something I love to accomplish, playing God. Another famous writer wrote this. “God Is Cruel.” Forgive me, Sophia, for daring to think so presumptuous as fucking right. Aren’t I full of books today, first Stephen King? And now Margaret Atwood with “Under His Eye.” I feel Braxton today. Every moment, I disappoint.

Here I am at the beginning of my fifth year of blogging, and to be honest, I can’t really remember why I started. Dammit, the Basic Bitch, but it was the PAIN, want of lust. Writing is me at my most masochistic. One more reason in a hundred, a thousand. Could it be a million that I miss my son? To think if he were here now, little dæmon Braxton. Am I writing about him today? Did I yesterday? Again I’m looking ahead. Only I never saw his death coming. Yet one more painful moment kick-starting my writing once again. Because with enough pain Lady Sophia, I will become the man I wish to be. A billionaire, a bad man, someone who belongs on Earth.

I was already that and more when Braxton would look up at me from his pillow. Five years ago, when I wrote of the Basic Bitch, I wanted to prove I wasn’t the man she thought I was. I want to show Braxton that I am the man he believed in with his last breath. Sophia, be it the Rainbow Bridge or wherever he’s watching me, he lives in me. And I want to quit being this failure, fiend, and fuck-up. I am his father, his daddy, the man who will tell his story to the world. I didn’t do so much of that today, sigh Time Travel. Today should be meaningful, don’t you think. Braxton should’ve known the A-Side, but… Life On The B-Side.

152 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 364 ~Better B Next Month~

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It’s strange when I have to start a new pile of treats. Five piles for five months since Braxton “went away.” February to June, and what have I accomplished. What am I fixin’ to do as I couldn’t fix him with four years of writing? Better B Next Month

Wednesday, June 30, 2021

Gospel 364 ~Better B Next Month~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… yeah, and what year was it I was listening to all those motivations? A Million-dollar year

If I had done so, would B be alive? Now that’s the type of question that plagues me every morning. Another would have to be, am I even going to get up and try to do something with my life. Why am I going to the Day Job when I fucking hate everyone there, Echo? B, B, and oh yeah, B. When I was young, I remember seeing this somewhere. You should pick C when you don’t know the answer for any multiple choice. So here I am saying FML, am I right? As I finally did get up and I honored my son, I saw five months have passed. Honoring Braxton, what have I done, Inspector Echo? It’s like “Last Christmas” all over again.

B’s become an errand on my to-do list. Wasn’t he always but back then, I was an A-Hole, now THEY would only call me mad. Either way, I can’t stop even after these five months. Hell, I’ve been more dedicated than when B III was here. Those last few days, on top of being sick and tired of dying, he felt the same way about me, my running behind him. I’ve had plenty of girls accuse me of being obsessive, stalkerish, scary. I was the damn Grim Reaper when it came to Braxton. You know my biggest problem Inspector, TIME. I think I have all the time in the world and when I get time, like two whole days, what do I do with them.

“Just one more year, and then you’d be happy,” as the song goes. How long have I been writing with only this blog? Five years Inspector Echo, five years starting Friday. All that time, I was telling B I would give him everything. How much time with him I wasted? Braxton didn’t live to see February, his sweet sixteen, and all the money when he wanted time. Dammit, I selfishly tried to make up for it with five days when he couldn’t do anything. Well, hiding from the Reaper, showing him with love that he was going to die soon. From Six Impossible Things to a brand new year of writing. What will I do, when will I do it, Echo? Better B Next Month

150 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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 357 ~Be The Needle B~

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My arm hurts like Hell and then gets itchy. The thing is, I’m Still Standing, as the song goes. The last needles I saw before the one I got… They were for Braxton, and look how that turned out. Be The Needle B. Too bad mine are making me better?

Wednesday, June 23, 2021

Gospel 357 ~Be The Needle B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I guess I’ll grow a business acumen at some point. I rather raise Braxton.

B III made it to fifteen though I was putting my money on twenty. Hell, who am I kidding? If I had the money I strive for, I would have been figuring out a way for Braxton to outlive me at least. I hope the government ain’t lying about the price tag of a FREE Vaccine. So am I going to spend the whole week talking about getting it? As the song goes, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” I focused so much on myself 143 Days ago. As you and everyone else knows, I love my son, and I try to talk about the good times, ok. I think enough songs have hinted that love hurts sometimes. But Braxton, he loved me.

I’m sure he didn’t like me all those times I laughed at him at Banfield. It’s the same story you’ve heard a million times. “Are you going to walk in like a man, or do I have to carry you?” Every time, I was freaking out, being honest. Geez, I wonder how my Olds felt. Braxton was going there to get better, to get stitched up. How many of us like needles, Inspector Echo? Unlike the sewing kits I found in cookie tins, I always knew each needle B III felt had a good purpose. I’d see the candles, the picture frame’s message, but Braxton. The point of a pen, my fingers, the red bandage around his leg. There were three needles Inspector, 1, 2…

That’s what they say I need Inspector Echo to survive. I get two doses of the Vaccine, and then I can ditch the mask. My mask? There’s dog hair, my hoodies, anything with NaNoWriMo, and then the masks when it comes to the things I wear. I’m losing all my shields. The cloth that came with Braxton’s remains; I haven’t looked in that box again since the day he came home. There’s no treat in there, only what was once my best friend. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men as THEY say. Braxton’s hair around here fades. Today “Saturday,” I sat there as they made sure I didn’t die but if I had. I wouldn’t mind; I’ve said, Be The Needle B.

143 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 350 ~Be Free Of Cures~

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I wasn’t sick this week or the last, but I sure did stay in bed. Only I don’t need a doctor. More like I need my dog back. Another Father’s Day approaches, and here I am without my son. Be Free Of Cures because I’m already dying

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

Gospel 350 ~Be Free Of Cures~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and ignoring the obvious Ha-Ha, as the song goes, I Want A New Drug. Today… doubtful

Am I a prick for not remembering my “father’s” birthday? I know Father’s Day is on the 20th (shudders). I’m not looking forward to it. Do I have to say something, Inspector Echo? That’s only one of the many things needling at my brain today. But I’m out of bed.
Why, when I need another mental health day or several. I think I asked sometime this week, am I going to waste these next few days. If I said, I would ask a Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting “Son,” Prince of Peace. What’d you think? Obviously, I know my Bible Inspector, that’s Isaiah 9:6. Again I’m not turning towards faith. To quote more wisdom, I’m “Losing My Religion.” I lost my God, Good Boy, Greed…

Which, of course, explains that $150.00 I put in my bank account yesterday and why? I was worshipping some incredible Yabbos that are no longer talking to me. I was breaking Inspector Echo. Maitland Ward had me, and then with restraint ok hesitation… I stopped.
Well, she did, and am I ever going to learn that women aren’t the answer? I’ve been talking to M Anime and Indiana Gone, but I still remember January 31th. Indiana Gone asked what she could do, and I said, “I want my best friend back. No bucks, boobs, behavior. There’s nothing that will bring B III back to me or make the hurt go away. For a few seconds, I lose myself and feel a greater shame about something.

Which should be instead of more porn, I should get stuck. The vaccine is free and is continuing poking at me to go and get it. Today’s the day… again, I don’t think so. The masks won’t last forever, but I continue to pretend. Shall I quote Bob Marley? Three Little Birds singing, “Don’t worry about a thing. ’Cause every little thing gonna be all right.” Only it hasn’t been for 136 Days. I look at them as we approach another year down. I see Father’s Day, and here I am without my son. My Charge, my Comfort, and my Cure, to the viciousness, vitriol, and virus called Life. Is that why I’m avoiding my health? There’s no cure for death. Be Free Of Cures

136 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will