Gospel 355 ~Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die~

I don’t want to Accept, Acclimate, or Adapt to B’s passing. I broke one vow, but the one I spoke on January 31st, “everything stays the same,” remains unbroken. I look around, and he’s still here but to survive. “Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die”

Monday, June 21, 2021

Gospel 355 ~Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die~

Hundred And Ninety-Third Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I suppose it will take getting used to. Sonless, sinless, salvation

Sonless… my first Father’s Day without Braxton in fifteen years. Well, seeing as how I’m writing this on Wednesday. Speaking of time, I never planned on Braxton, and yet I want to be a Dad to another furbaby and others someday. Only, I’m learning Adaptation. Another word for my hate list is Normal or New Normal. Neither term is ideal, but at least with Normal, I had B III. Again, one of today’s words is Adaptation because with Evolution? It seems so far away. Even though it’s been 141 Days Madame. Existence moves ever forward. Is that my way of saying “Life, Uh, Finds a Way” or “Existence Locates a Path?” Is it the man or the road? In a way, I think it’s both.

“There’s a saying – the pessimist looks down and hits his head. The optimist looks up and loses his footing. The realist looks forward and adjusts his path accordingly.” TWD

“Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?”
― Garth Nix, Sabriel

Sinlessness is, of course, impossible. As the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus,” or at least I want to avoid a “political” discussion at the moment. I understand Jesus, though, because if I could take all of Braxton’s bad upon myself, I would. Only B III died. Madame, I let him go, and what did I receive? Braxton’s out there somewhere happy. These days I get to explore who I am, and every time I look in the mirror, I hate myself. Ok, now I’ve said J, I got cash, ha. Oh, “but in the end, it doesn’t even matter,” Linkin Park. I drift farther and farther away from the Daddy that Braxton honestly knew to become… I don’t know or care.

Salvation is beyond my reach because while I can’t adapt to life without Braxton, “I Don’t Wanna Die.” Isn’t this what they mean by a “Mad World.” Will I stop with all the music references? I broke my vow last week but with this one, who knows. There’s clarity now. Like Super Mario knowing that his quest will never end as there’s always another journey. So he adapts from being a plumber to whatever he needs to be. Yet didn’t he forget his brother eventually, his princess, and even the real world for a time? He wants to survive despite everything and anything. I want to say I’m not sure, but of course, I’m still here, isn’t that right, Madame? Unless I’m lucky, Time Travel. Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die

141 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 348 ~A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret~

Conan became a King. He sat upon his throne with a troubled brow. Before, his life was full of high adventure. Only now, I feel like when he was pushing that wheel, bored thinking about life. A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret, I was bored of B?

Monday, June 14, 2021

Gospel 348 ~A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret~

Hundred And Ninety-Second Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and already I’m thinking I’m okay with it. I’ll make more tomorrow…

When I get up at 6:30 in the morning, instead of 4:00, the day is already ruined. When I have to get up for the Day Job, I’ll still be hating that week I wasted doing nothing at all. As always, Madam J, this is not Depression but instead shame. This is not okay ever. I should at least be saving money because what was it I said yesterday about spending $150 on Maitland Ward’s Yabbos. Um, that’s $140 now as I spent $10 on “Rachel McGuire’s.” Oh, all I’ve got thus far, can I say I’m so thankful with any one of them, hmm? Hell, would me getting that tattoo for Braxton be something that will make me feel better, Madam? I don’t know.

Also, yesterday I talked about Dakota Skye’s passing but did I look up some of her work? As the song goes, I won’t go getting “Tired Of You.” The fact that I’m still talking about this proves it. Yet I didn’t do any searching other than for a good picture. I do that for B. However, Madam, these past few weeks have been all about the things I do because B III isn’t around. I wrote of renewed vows and ended up breaking it in the same day, and for what? Do I regret going all out for “Stuff And Thangs?” In a way, yes, but I’m not bored yet… I’ve been living on background noise, but something woke me. Make Way For The King

Only it was the young prince who died first. Braxton would expect more from me than sitting here wondering why I’m not dead yet. If I am only going to sit around waiting for the end. I should at least get the vaccine. Definitely want to prolong what’s become Hell. I was never lonely or, let’s say, overcome with ennui when I was with B III. I’ll never get over being here reading a good book and him by my side. I wasn’t bored with life Madam Justice, I was angry at it, but I said Another Day to keep down the boiling blood. I couldn’t, and I became indifferent to the one that loved me the most, Braxton. And the moment that happened, Madam… A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret

134 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 341 ~The Walking Dead, Living Sit~

Now I wish I could say the zombies came before… it doesn’t matter, but it looks like I have to start again. It’s a new world, but in July I’ll be writing about the old one. My loss, my learning, and living without B III. The Walking Dead, Living Sit.

Monday, June 7, 2021

Gospel 341 ~The Walking Dead, Living Sit~

Hundred And Ninety-First Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now and isn’t this how I always imagined it would be. First and always, a father; a writer?

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves as it comes to Rule 191. I should also choose my words with care, considering the goings-on in the world today. I’m sure I’ve talked about this with several of the girls and B. No, not his death again, but that railyard incident, damn. You know how I feel about my Day Job. Every day I talk about it’s like dying there, and Braxton indeed was. If I hadn’t been a zombie for four days, B III might be alive. Instead, five days passed, and you saw his peaceful end. It’s like Army of the Dead, and I’m Vanderohe. Even if I get out, Madam Justice, what will I become? Who will I be? And no, I’m not suicidal.

I may sit at my laptop and bleed, but that’s how I know I’m still alive. How many times, let’s see, 127 days have I mentioned my lost boy. That pain isn’t going anywhere, and you could give me more if it brought Braxton back home. Better Bargaining than Depression. Anyway, as I said, this is how I plan to make my billions by writing? First million, because I have a dream, I have a plan. Yet the know-how dear Madam J. If I’m alive, there is always time to learn something new. Maybe I wish I could go back to all those classes. Say what? You know how I hate the word “STUPID,” going back to school… oh my Madam, ahem, really FUCKING STUPID!!!

Less STUPID is my “Stuff And Thangs.” Seeing as how I’m a time traveler presently. I do wonder, am I a monk now? Nope! I’m trying, and I know I don’t want to give up yet. What is it that my motivations would always say? If it were easy, then everyone would do it, right? I talk about walking or standing and about sitting but lying down, I swear. As always, this is Inspector Echo’s racket, but here’s a confession. I almost broke this afternoon being Monday, May 31, 2021. The night before, I was all sorts of discombobulated, honestly. Nothing is permanent, Eric Thomas says. My vow, my rules, the boy that I thought would live forever, my Braxton. The Walking Dead, Living Sit

127 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 334 ~Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven~

I remind myself it’s not just another day. “I wish I could say something classy and inspirational” for Memorial Day, but I know it’s Day 120. The defender of my kingdom, a “Real One,” is dead. “Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven,” what’s better than a dog?

Monday, May 31, 2021

Gospel 334 ~Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven~

Hundred And Ninetieth Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but THEY say that money is the root of all evil. I don’t believe that, Madam Justice.

I love my son, and with that, as Sade sings “No Ordinary Love,” I would carry out evil. Indiana Gone and I would “joke” about our children, but really any parent of a fur baby would say the same. Anyone would fight, steal, and kill to keep them safe, Madam. Interestingly, I would call this place Hell, which it is now because I didn’t know how good I had it. I’m sure I’ve talked about how cold it is. So cut off the air conditioner, duh. I can’t imagine what it would be like to feel right again. Little B beside me once more. Madam, to have such love? To give such love? I would instead have my grief and nothing more. Am I afraid?

Haven’t I said over and over that not much frightens me anymore? Well other than falling into Depression (Fourth Stage of Grief). I’m sure I’ve mentioned Dante’s Inferno, and each stage is like one of the Nine Circles. For Dante, it was Treachery, mine, Acceptance. So give me all the 404 errors or dubious musings; yesterday, the horror, the horror. Madam, the whole world could know about my “Stuff and Thangs,” I lie here unashamed. Worst of all is a broken what, “vow?” If I were getting paid, I would have done so, and yet? I haven’t, Madam Justice, but you must understand I’ve never gone so long like this. The man I see on the screen knows such bliss but knew even greater. Braxton

Once you’ve been a Dad, a brother, a best friend, a hero, how do you ever go back to a man? I won’t ever regret a single day I spent with my son, even the last one. It’s been 120 days for those keeping score at home. How could I ever think that meeting that little ball of fluff was a mistake? Madam, such a thing was evolution but now why do men fear death? It’s like the prisoner who has been institutionalized and now fears for life without walls. How about when Rogue took Captain Marvel’s powers, and she is back to Carol Danvers. Braxton is a blessing and the Devil I knew, my Daemon. Nothing greater for me

Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven

120 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 327 ~Fire, Iron Evaporate The Enemy~

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

Monday, May 24, 2021

Gospel 327 ~Fire, Iron Evaporate The Enemy~

Hundred And Eighty-Ninth Rule

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

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

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

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

113 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Animal Crossing Nope, Just Braxton

A dream. a little sex, violence, and not dabbling either. I miss my dog, my friend, my son. It was a crime what happened to him. “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” “Animal Crossing Nope, Just Braxton”

Animal Crossing Nope, Just Braxton

“She’s the girl that guys marry, and I’m the girl that guys fuck!” Kill Theory

What a weird way to start off a dream about my dog, right? He didn’t appear until the last half, if I’m being honest. It took me forever to figure out what this quote had to do about anything other than the movie “Kill Theory.” If you want me to remember anything, it usually has to involve sex or violence. My son Braxton broke the mold with that. Then again, he had a thing for my second best friend’s breasts, and I will never forget that I killed him. Call it being put to sleep, Euthanasia; whatever I ended him.

Most nights, I don’t dream at all, I don’t remember, or they aren’t worth telling ever. I can say to you within The Five Stages of Grief, I live in DENIAL. As always, I fill his water bowl, call out to him for his medication, eat when we both usually would together. On Day Seventy-Two, I moved into ANGER because of the fucking Assistant Manager. I’ve been revved up ever since, and my Day Job has become a battlefield. Before work, I would have said that on Day Eighty-Six, I have moved into BARGAINING. Too many STUPID people are breeding.

So that leads me back to this quote from my dream, and as I said, it’s from the movie Kill Theory, so a short plot:

A man kills his best friends to save his own life. To prove that anyone in the same circumstances (somewhat). That you will kill to save yourself, he picks a group of college kids. They have until Six AM to kill each other. The sole survivor goes free, but he will kill them all if more than one remains alive.

If you’ve been keeping up, I will die for Braxton. Tell me to give my life to save him, and I would do so without question. He deserves to live. We were together for fifteen years, one month shy of sixteen. He was my longest relationship, me and my son, and I mean a life I was responsible for. But I chose everything over him. That’s what killed him. The week before he died, it was my Day Job which explains so much Anger. Also, I hate three people there but the dream. I kept hearing the girl Ryanne Duzich “Amber” say this. SPOILER ALERT she does survive. Her friends died, her love, her enemies…

Ryanne Duzich “Amber”

So next thing I know, I’m in a car alone with her. At least, I think it was her because what I noticed was the moon outside as she drove. It was a pale pink moon that slowly became blood-red, and so was my dread. Ever since Braxton died, I have found that not much scares me anymore. I have a moment of panic every now and again, but like with every pain, I only say, “I killed Braxton.” I deserve whatever I get. Let the cops come, let me catch COVID, or crack some skulls. I can take it.

Anyway, before I freak out, the moon turns into C-3PO’s golden head. And then it’s my Braxton’s face, and of course, I calm down. I watch the moon as Amber drives on, and it doesn’t matter where. It’s the journey, and with Braxton up above me, everything is okay. Soon the sky begins turning blue, signaling a new day. Amber and I are now in this wooded area with rocks and little mini waterfalls. The trees surround the clearing, but then I see a big building to the side. I then discover it’s a replica of Braxton’s resting place. It’s a bit dingy and worn, but his name is right on the top of it.

I’m dressed in a blue robe like something out of The Purge series. Or I’ve been reading too much Succubus Lord (The Cult of Ralston), yeah. Amber is beckoning me closer, but I snatch away from her. She starts saying, “get in the box, get in, join him!” she cries. Now I’m scared, and I refuse. Then she starts saying “Look at me” and starts untying her top. While her voice, I think, reminds me of “Secret Girlfriend,” You Get an Aquarium Girl (Veronica Taylor). Still, I’m terrified, and I begin to back away as she starts to step forward.

Veronica Taylor

Before I can get away, out steps Jessica Garza “Penelope” from The Purge series. “Look at my lambs,” she asks, and then there are these three people in animal masks or maybe the animals themselves. All I remember is a black wolf waiting. So either I enter the building, or I face the animal beings. I start running, but then I’m so tired, and I want to give up, give in. Hell, get off with the two/three beautiful women, but the animals catch me then…

I didn’t wake up screaming, and I’m not sure what the animals even did to me. The wolf was charging, and my ankles were tied in dark blue cloth. Okay, so the four major components of the dream. There’s “Kill Theory,” the moon, the building, and the animals in all:

Kill Theory: The movie’s both betrayal and sacrifice. The killer got away with it, and Amber lived. She had been betrayed by everyone. She ended the film holding the man she loved who had been killed by his girlfriend. The killer said Amber would become like him, but she said she would never. I’m the same way. I’m surrounded by pretenders and people I hate. The one I loved the most died. And I’m half crazy. I live in lust, not love, not feeling anything.

The Moon: I don’t understand what the pink was about other than I love turning to hate. Or something to do with sex. I’ve been staying up working on an erotic novel and didn’t read about a pink moon until later today. C-3PO makes me think of when he wanted to donate parts to R2-D2 after destroying the Death Star. Braxton, of course, watching over me from the sky. I still say goodnight to him before falling asleep. He is my light in the darkness.

The Building: With today being the exception, I would usually be in bed lying in the dark. I told my second best friend I exist in the darkness because everything else makes me upset. In the dark, there is nothing, and suppose I wish I was dead. Only in the dream I fought going into the box. I wanted to stay out in nature. Another friend has been angling for me to try Bushcraft with her. Survivalist training and, like always, JSS Just Survive Somehow.

The Animals: I swear they looked like people at first. And the fact that a former sacrifice in Penelope presented them… Why can I only remember the wolf, though, and a lamb, hmm? But they were all chasing me, further evidence of my betrayal and guilt. I have looked at other dogs lately, and both my friends want farm animals. Did the animals want to eat me, or was I lying on some otherwise peaceful ground? Only I was tied up tight by a cloth-like the one in Braxton’s remains.

Gospel 305 ~B III, B IV~

To say B III IS a good dog is the underestimate of the Millennium. Braxton Is the greatest son ever, and I can never be free of such love. Only what can a man do before such hate? I don’t want to hate but the Day Job SIGH. B III, B IV

Sunday, May 2, 2021

Gospel 305 ~B III, B IV~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you might be too someday if you do like I did last night… just say no?

Being free of certain HABITS. You’re still HURT over Braxton, and that won’t be going away anytime soon. I think I brought it up some time yesterday that it’s been officially three months without him. You haven’t said no to the DENIAL or the ANGER… HATE. Being free of such love, but as Sade sings, this is No Ordinary Love. As Edmond Dantès learned, he could not escape such love. THEY say if only we could love as Braxton loves you. People though… I swear, we have mastered hate. If any consolation, you hate THEM. Being free of hating the ASM, the gemstone bitch, the spectacled spectator. Well, that’s not happening. You might get fired soon. But you didn’t harm yourself or Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Melody In Lingerie by Imogen Linn
    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 121 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 128) No Fap
  5. I WILL Cut The Lawn This Week
    Partial
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Before you give me a pat on the back for now having two completions, two utter failures, and two partials. What is this Japan (tentacles)? Um, keep being a monk, my friend. It’s “easier.” As I said last night, I did no harm, meaning giving more money away for… stuff. Before you start crying again as I did when I realized what bills were missing. Of course, they’ve been missing for again three months. Braxton’s food budget, trips to the groomers, tick removal, his meds alone were $45 – $60. Online streaming and artists $71.
Before you give in to the nice girl from Twitter to Onlyfans. Or whatever loneliness-reducing gimmick being hocked today. Please remember what you owe Braxton and yourself, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus Lord 14: Swimsuit Edition
  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 128 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Cut The Backyard Lawn This Week
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

B III can’t help you through this week. As you woke up this morning, you asked for his strength. Hell, it’s the only reason you’re awake now after sleeping late. There’re more reasons to stay asleep than wake up. Living is easy with eyes closed, as the Beatles put it.
Misunderstanding all you see, you know from dreams to porn, to the Day Job. However, you see all too clearly. It’s those Republican tendencies. Rejecting the evidence of your eyes and ears like something out of 1984. People show you who they are; believe them. Braxton would see you as The World’s Greatest. R. Kelly… not someone you should be quoting these days. This week will be bad, but SIGH relax, B III, B IV

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Still Salty About B III “A Dream”

Talk about pouring salt on a wound. And as the song goes, “These wounds won’t seem to heal. This pain is just too real.” To be honest, I’ll take a dream about Braxton than being trapped in boxes at the Day Job. Still Salty About B III “A Dream.”

I’m reminded of the night my Olds cut me off. Most of the police were gone. Thank you ever so much, National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. For once again, proving no one gives a shit if I live or die. Only, that was so many years ago, and my dream brought that back some. Except in my dream, it was daylight. I had my current car, which is far from a Mercedes. I wasn’t at my former “home.” I was sitting in the parking lot of PetSmart, where there’s a Banfield Pet Hospital. Braxton died there.

I’m not blaming them or anything. This is my fault but anyway, so my dream…

I’m sitting in the car, but I’m not alone. B III is riding shotgun, and he’s not sick. He’s happy and giddy, but he wants outside. He smiles, and I pat his head. Usually, he’s frightened of car rides, and of course, he’s still standing, but there’s no fear in him, only an eagerness. My “Dear Future Wife” is sitting in the backseat. At this point, I’ve narrowed it down to three girls. Her face is that of Anna Vlasova, “Alissa” MarvelCharm. Her body is more Alycia Debnam-Carey, yep. Then we get breasts, and there are two words Sabrina Nichole. Then there was my “father” sitting beside her. How does one tell a nightmare from a dream? He was a big red flag, not literally. With him being there, I should have gone ahead and woke up, but I didn’t.

The vision played on until my alarm woke me up, and I didn’t scream or even grumble. It didn’t slip away these images. Like my memory of being cut off, it only sat there waiting, which brings me here today. Fifty-Eight days since Braxton’s passing, and I know, I do. I should get on with the dream. I should get past this feeling… As the song goes, “Let It Go.” Only there were no Disney characters to be had. I’ve been through Legion to John Wick, but only one film truly stands, and it’s this.

The Count of Monte Cristo (2002). In my dream, I was Edmond Dantes, but I was still me, hoody and all. My wife again was the three girls I described. My father in this, what I remember is black. He could be a zombie for all I care but was he the villain or all.

The door on the passenger side opens. Braxton never goes out that way as he crawled over my lap in real life. He’s tugging on his leash, eager to get to the store. More importantly, to get to the hospital in back. It was rare for us to simply walk the store as he usually has an appointment at the groomers or the vet. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind where he wanted to go. I’ve laughed a lot, telling him, “are you going to walk in like a man?” In the dream, I got scared holding his leash.

Braxton pulled and tugged. Whether he wanted me to follow or let go, I wasn’t sure at the moment. I held on tighter as Braxton barked towards PetSmart as if he were asking for help. It was the complete opposite, the day he passed away. Hell, I carried Braxton there. Wifey said something like I needed to let him go, and I shouted at her, “He’s all I have!” My Braxton was, no, is my world, and no matter what she said or did, I couldn’t give up. As I said, she was a combination of three of the most beautiful women, but B III. Wifey opens the door and begins pulling out piles of money from the trunk. There are clothes and gold, diamonds. My eyes were fixed on Braxton, but I knew all the stuff was back there being taken from me, and it didn’t matter. Braxton’s struggling

My “father” says the same thing, to let Braxton go, and I scream at him, “Don’t rob me of my hate; it’s all I have!” Now, wait a minute, I thought that was B III? At this point, I could no longer see him beyond the car door. I felt him continue to try and drag me, but I wanted him back in the car. We would be safe together. My “father” left the car, and like my wife, he began pulling things out. Only in his arms were guns and knives. I thought of my mother taking my first pocket knife. It was a Spiderman back when he was with Venom. It was black and white with the Spiderman emblem. The blade was black with white webbing. It was my favorite, but it’s gone.

So there’s my wife grabbing green and my father taking guns. A wicked world, cruel…

Before Braxton, Wifey, and my “father” left, I heard the three of them like one voice. “Let It Go,” but did I let go, or was there nothing left of me. I won’t give up ever. B gave me one of those looks when he’s like, “Really, Dad, Seriously, Daddy.”

All three doors slammed together, and I was left alone in the car. All that remained was Braxton’s black leash and hippy collar. With the blue towel, I had placed beneath him. The day this really happened, I burst into tears and couldn’t go home. I went to Walmart of all places and picked out a black digital frame. I also picked up BBQ because my mom called, saying I had to eat. You don’t want to know what I wanted to do, but I didn’t because Braxton was watching. There had been a storm minutes before but now sunlight.

In the dream, though, I continued to sit there. It was like the movie 1408, but it was only my car instead of a hotel room. John Cusack, aka Mike Enslin, had to listen to “We’ve Only Just Begun” as the room tortured him. As I sat in my car, it began to fill up with salt. I wasn’t afraid. As a matter of fact, I wanted to dive in, no question. The car was becoming an hourglass. Yes, I know those have sand, but Braxton never went to a beach. I wasn’t cold, and I don’t do drugs. Well, I never did cocaine anyway. As I was buried alive…

The Devil by PJ Harvey
Everyone Says Hi (Defiance Version) by Young Beautiful in a Hurry feat Fyfe Monroe
He’s My Son by Mark Schultz

I listened, and not once did I want to escape; I only sat there waiting for the inevitable. The nightmare didn’t end. I saw flashes. Pornos I have, an air pistol with its orange tip, other real weapons, cash. In all of that, though, I never saw Braxton again, only his collar and the endless white. I don’t know if I lived or died, but the alarm went off, and that was that. It’s been a typical day so far. I can’t say “Another Day” anymore. I did clean out Braxton’s old dog dish. It’s been about two months, and something furry was growing. I wanted to keep the can of special food, another mess.

What does it all mean? I’ll break down four elements of the dream; Three, Wifey, Father, and all the Salt.

The Number Three: His name is Braxton Barks Bradford. There were three people in the car or three lives other than my own. Braxton started getting sick on Wednesday, which is actually the fourth day of the week. However, he died on a Sunday, meaning the next Wednesday would be the third day of his death. With my “OCD,” I test things by three’s. I have three women in my life, my mom, Indiana Gone, and M Anime. It’s like that book “The Five,” the main character, “Rainey Summer Day.”

Wifey: Speaking of Rainey Summer Day and how, when Braxton died, there was a storm, and then the sun was out. I suppose she represented love and lust. I haven’t been open to anything since losing Braxton. I’m a man, I have desires, I’m horny, but there is no will both figuratively and literally. Everything I do in life is about sex, and at the same time, I want love. I want a family. Only no one understands the love I have for my son, and losing him, costs everything.

Father: He, of course, represents my hate. If it’s not sex, then let it be violence. Since Braxton’s been gone, I’ve been in a rage, but I’m always fighting it. Anger is the second stage of grief which is another step towards Acceptance. I refuse to accept that. My son is dead, and yet I can’t stop. His water bowl is filled every day. Losing all of my weapons, the ability to wage war. On the one hand, it helps maintain my Denial, but if I can’t love or hate?

Salt: Braxton is my balance, my constant, my peace. It’s why he sat at my right hand. Why did B want me to let him go? The day he left, all he wanted was to go home, but I chose this path. Salty tears, hmm? Everyone Says Hi goes, “said you sailed a big ship, said you sailed away,” ocean? It could mean diet, which has been lacking. It could have something to do with sex since I won’t allow any pleasure. Or looking back, becoming a pillar of salt.

A dream, a nightmare, nothing at all, I don’t know. Only that’s how I feel. Salt preserves. My nothingness preserved.

Gospel 217 ~You’re Killing Me, Will~

I believed the worst crime any human could possibly commit is the destruction of another person’s soul. Hell, I would give mine to God or sell it to the Devil if either brought back my son, my best friend but why is he gone? “You’re Killing Me, Will”

Wednesday, February 3, 2021

Gospel 217 ~You’re Killing Me, Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. There I said it because; only a “rich” man… Inspector, no one is above the law.

I am GUILTY of Misanthropy, Murder, and Madness. Misanthropy like a mother fucker (pardon my language). It started Wednesday of last week. I came home, and I was tired. God, I was so tired, and all Braxton wanted was my attention. The one life who gave a damn about me, and I ignored him because I was done with people. There’s this girl at work that’s been ever so sweet since his passing. Only she doesn’t know how to talk to me. Hell, I don’t know what to say. I wouldn’t have to say anything if I had been reading the signs that night. Only by hating people, I didn’t care for him. That’s how it started, Inspector, I killed Braxton, I killed my son.

Murderer… I don’t want to be a murderer. I am, though. Not the vets, no, not in the slightest, they gave him mercy. I thank them for their service. There was nobody else, only me, Inspector Echo. To think what I worried about all last week, STUPIDITY. Let the cops take me to jail, after what I’ve done to my son. For nearly five days, I ignored him Wednesday, my greed Thursday, my hesitation Friday. I let go of everything Saturday, and I prayed. I was on my knees praying, following, cleaning. Sunday, I gathered him up and murdered him.

Madness, fucking madness!!! Not Anger, not yet anyway. Well, other than at my “father.” Braxton’s body was still warm, and my father says, “get a new DOG.” They would say I’m still in Denial. I always open his gates as if he were walking with me. Every day I refill his water bowl. The trash was picked up today, but I didn’t throw out a scrap of his food. I won’t wash his bed, the sheets, my hoodie, which I’m still wearing. I walk into his room and lay down a treat. Three treats for three days. I keep his final papers, so I’ll never forget Inspector Echo. I need to see the proof of what I PAID for!!! I did this, Braxton is dead because of my Hate, with my Help, and now I dream of Heaven to be.

His last look, I swear, “Daddy.” You’re Killing Me, Will.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 154 ~For Will, The Holidays~

This time last week, I was scared to death of going into the “Day Job.” Now I feel the whole month of December is going to be that fear mixed with everything. Yet today, I started a Christmas book on top of being worried about… For Will, The Holidays

Wednesday, December 2, 2020

Gospel 154 ~For Will, The Holidays~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. This means during the season of giving, I should be out somewhere. How long did it take me to get from the bed to the loveseat in the den? Inspector Echo, I said I would get to bed before midnight? Well, that was a “damn” lie. Okay, take a breath, remember gratitude. As with most days, I’m discombobulated, even more so today, but at least I remembered it’s Wednesday, so small favors. I saved my Dæmon from getting his nail caught in his collar… Yes, a trip for grooming is coming.

It’s not like my Imp has any place to show off, though. As for me, I want to go back to bed and start reading my next Eric Vall novel. However, it is December. I must keep reminding myself of the time today. So here I have a bit of a confession. I HATE CHRISTMAS.

Now that seems harsh, and again, I should be grateful. Not stealing Lady Sophia’s shine, but I’m glad that the sequel to that K Webster novel I read isn’t out. I lack the guts to go back to A.J. Markam titles. I’m heavy into Eric Vall’s books, my absolute favorites. Echo, what does this have to do with me hating the holidays? As a matter of fact, my form of celebrating is reading Christmas stories… with other elements mixed in. Currently, I’m reading something from Abby Knox. But yeah, the 4th circle of Hell SIGH.

When I was a child Inspector Echo, I never imagined life would turn out like this. I would help my mother trim the tree. My “father” and I would decorate the house. I would wake my sister up at 6:00 AM. Hell, I was unboxing my N64 before Christmas… sorry. Nowadays, Scrooge, the Grinch, I’ve never seen Krampus, but I want to subscribe to its newsletter. Let’s say, I understand. I’m trying Echo, I am.

Again I read Christmas books, I have a Spotify holiday playlist. They’re a few Christmas classics I like. Still nothing. Of course, I’ll be talking more about this, but today it’s been a rush of things. NaNoWriMo ended, and I hate my story. The Dæmon is getting older, and I’m worried. Grammarly hit me hard. Yeah, pardon my language but eff you, Grammarly. Thanksgiving leftovers.

Most wonderful time, Bah Humbug, sorry. For Will, The Holidays.

I Will Have No Fear