Tag: Guilt

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

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