Tag: Guilt

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 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 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 336 ~How Many Barks Braxton~

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Braxton spoke like a man, anytime, anyplace, and wasn’t afraid to let his voice be known even if it meant locking him behind a gate for a bit. His bark was worse than his bite, but he’ll always be my little boy. How Many Barks Braxton.

Wednesday, June 2, 2021

Gospel 336 ~How Many Barks Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford this morning’s shenanigans. We know the truth, Inspector, so I’m sorry.

Time is never on my side, along with my new interest in “Stuff And Thangs.” That’s where I was this morning, and at the very least, I’m still a monk and alone. Both are killing me. Geez, I wouldn’t have gotten down and dirty if Braxton was watching or punished. Inspector, my continuing existence in a universe without him. Hell, would I call it my punishment? Yesterday marked the start of the 5th month he’s been gone. I’ve been missing a few days, Memorial Day, the 100th Anniversary of Tulsa. Even at the Day Job. Yeah, I’ve been lectured before there, but this time it was about a Hawaiian King. King Kamehameha gets his day on the 11th. If only that was the “strangest” thing.

I should take a cue from B III and find my voice. Only there are so many reasons I need to shut up. So back at the Day Job, one of my fucking bosses called me Ma’am over the radio. On the one hand, I didn’t hear him exactly. On the other, I should’ve unleashed Hell. Speaking of Hell and fucking, I indeed like my voice. It’s hard doing what I’m doing and wanting to maintain my monk-like status. Now, of course, you’re telling me I could always quit, but I don’t want to. However, I want to maintain my promise, vow, call it insanity. Which do you think is the bigger sin, to remain silent or let it all go? Didn’t listen to Braxton

Yesterday I mean, I didn’t play B’s playlist because I needed new ideas for my project. Don’t get me wrong, I cried, but nobody wants to see that on film. Not from my eyes, ha. If Braxton was here, I would have gotten up on time. He wanted better for me or more treats. Sometimes he tried to make an ass of himself, but whatever he did beats my life. I should see if I have any videos of him barking. What type of dog owner doesn’t have that? If Braxton could speak to me now, I wonder what would he say today, Inspector Echo. I told M Anime I didn’t know many languages other than English. I’m fluent in Braxton. How Many Barks Braxton.

122 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

Gospel 329 ~To Understand Braxton’s Writes~

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How often did I write about Braxton before? It’s still such a shame it took his passing for me to put his name on the page. Still, he was a minority, Chihuahua, an only child, and he loved me even in stories. To Understand Braxton’s Writes.

Wednesday, May 26, 2021

Gospel 329 ~To Understand Braxton’s Writes~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and like any other American, I have the right to remain silent. I won’t, though, nope.

If I had my way, to fulfill a “promise” I made to Madam Justice. I would much rather talk about Copious Cleavage, Titanic Ta-tas, Supersized Slobber Knockers. Indeed my shame. So if it’s not going to be about “stuff and thangs.” If you don’t understand by now, my euphemism for sex. I wish I could forget about my rage and wrath at the Day Job. Inspector Echo, that’s a lie because the only person I hate more than the ASM and my father at this point is myself. For the high crime, I won’t shut up about. I killed my son. It’s been 115 days. Braxton still appears, if not the main subject of my blogging, journaling, confessing. Pray tell, is this Exhibit A?

Did I tell you I killed Braxton twice? My first offering writing with Camp NaNoWriMo in April was to end Bastian “Barks” Bennett. Bastian was the adopted Mexican child of the main protagonist. Antagonist… Father Win William Bridgman. Novels mourn freely. While on the subject of Camp NaNoWriMo, I believe the next one is in July. I intend to write about the real Braxton Barks Bradford but is it out of love or laziness? I want to put the letters I’ve been writing to him in it, but that means so much of the work’s complete. Not only do I feel like a cheater but to exploit Braxton in such a way. My tragedy, my woe, “Is It A Crime” Inspector. One more for the list.

As you know, it’s sort of hard to be into “stuff and thangs” when all I do is mourn B III. I signed up again for “stuff and thangs,” what was it Friday, and they rejected me. It’s still Saturday, and you’re the fourth girl I’ve talked to. Yes, this week sucks… is it worse? Inspector, I should have spoken to Braxton more, even if it meant writing less. What was it? Four years ago I started writing about, you know who. And every day since it’s been these words, these words, these words Echo. They have power, and fuck what I wanted to do, I want them to bring Braxton back… they never do. Keeping love alive, rather than hate. To Understand Braxton’s Writes

115 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 324 ~Go To Bed B~

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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 322 ~Needling Away Might B…~

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Plenty of religious movies that say Mark of the Beast this; shot that, but I’m not a man of faith. If Trumptards are against this, then it must be good. My son B III would want his Dad alive. To vaccinate or not, against COVID? Needling Away Might B…

Wednesday, May 19, 2021

Gospel 322 ~Needling Away Might B…~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, a proud American, a good father, and an alright man. Like before, it’s fun to dream.

Since I’ll say I’m a Billionaire tomorrow, let me focus on being an American. The American Dream. Before B III, I was in the military, In The Navy but only a few weeks of Basic Training. That was the last time I ever intentionally saw a needle for myself, Echo. Now Braxton saw plenty, including his last one… we’ll get to that soon. Anyway, I don’t understand why this is such a hard decision to vaccinate or not from COVID-19. I’m not a Stupid Trumptard. Inspector Echo, I trust the science and want to do my part, USA yay. Honor, Courage, Commitment, yeah, one more reason I didn’t stick to my guns, literally on some ship. Nobody’s saying I can’t still wear my mask around…

I wasn’t when B took all his needles from the first to the last. Hell, half the time, I laughed, always telling him, “Be A Man B.” He’s a scaredy-cat…

Anytime we went into PetSmart or over to Banfield, it was like he was walking The Green Mile. Or it was Room 101 from the book 1984 (scary). Allow me to be overly dramatic. If it were between having Braxton looking at me those last moments or the cage with the rats? He’s not asking me to do that, though. Braxton would want me to be healthy and safe, especially since he’s no longer here to protect me. If the vaccine did kill me, well, like I’ve been saying, I’ve got it coming. It’s deserved. Does it beat exploding “Spontaneous?”

Yes, I’m still a grown man obsessed with a movie about high school. I’d be lying if I said a bit of peer pressure wasn’t involved with my decision. What, I’ve made a decision? That explains why I have been sleeping so late or Depression? It’s almost 7:00 AM, shame. A “decent” man once said, “Listen to the woman,” or women in this case. I would do anything for a pretty girl. My second BFF hasn’t gotten the vaccine, but her hubby has. A woman I’m hoping to do “stuff and thangs” with is pleading with me not to take it. What kind of man am I then? Braxton’s father always, forever, and would he be proud of me after yesterday… Needling Away Might B…

108 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

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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 315 ~A Mom’s B Leaving~

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Once in my life, I wanted to be a fighter pilot. Not really to serve but “reasons.” I don’t blame people for not counting on me. I can’t trust myself. But to not be a good enough son or especially a father because I’ll “F Up.” A Mom’s B Leaving.

Wednesday, May 12, 2021

Gospel 315 ~A Mom’s B Leaving~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I know it won’t be because of puns. Hell, I’ll take care of my mom.

Did that sound “sinister,” Inspector? You know what I mean, but I wasn’t even able to look after B III. It’s why he’s on the nightstand and not on the bed. I was saying today, May 8… yes, it’s going to be a bad week; I was thinking of that song “You Were Loved,” yep. Like mother like son, I guess. My Ma’s a big fan of Whitney Houston. While I can’t say I am, this song has made it onto my playlist for B III. Well, that is until the fucking ASM took it away from me. Should I be ashamed I’m still going on about that meathead bastard? Anyway, there is one verse that keeps playing between Charlie Brown’s language and my RAGE.

“When somebody cares that you’re alive
When somebody trusts you with their life.”
You Were Loved by Whitney Houston

My Ma doesn’t trust me. I’m always one to be direct, like saying I killed Braxton. Let me share a story with you. One night, still living with My Olds in my late twenties… another part of my shame? Okay, it’s late enough that Braxton stayed within his comfy spot. Strangely enough, my Ma comes downstairs and leaves. She didn’t say a word, only she hopped in the car and drove away. I figured something happened to my “father’s” truck, and she went to pick him up or something. In the morning, I found out she thought she was having a heart attack and drove to the nearby fire station for help. She could have died, but she didn’t trust me enough to say “HELP.”

Now I could play it as her wanting to protect me. A mother protects her kids, and she didn’t want me to see her like that. But something happened at the Day Job, and um, I have two words for you “short bus.” We’ll get into that at some point, but yep Ma and B. Ma knew I’d fuck up.

Does Braxton feel the same way? Every Wednesday, I remember him crying, and I ignored him, and come Thursday, it was as if he’d gotten over it. I have admired his strength over those last days, but no Inspector Echo. He knew his Daddy couldn’t make it better, but he had to save himself. Braxton didn’t fail; I did. Fuck up. A Mom’s B Leaving

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will