Chronicle 203 ~BMW, Not The Car~

B III hated car rides about as much as I hate driving. Where do I go that I actually want to be? I like movies. Do you know what would make them better? I went to his Aunt’s wedding, but I had to leave him here. Maybe it’s his turn? BMW, Not The Car.

Thursday, January 20, 2022

Chronicle 203 ~BMW, Not The Car~

354 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I would say so as long as you avoided a car ride. Hey, blame Grandma.

But don’t. Despite everything, Braxton, all the books, bluster, and breakdowns. I take full responsibility. Even if I’m not all the way there yet. I never wake up in the morning saying “I want to live my life this way.” I was reminded of that yesterday and this AM. Ouch. We’ll get to that. For now, I’m keeping my promise if you can tell. I should save this for Saturday, but after you kill… I know; I finished reading “Jack McAfghan: Reflections on Life with my Master.” That’s what I’ve been thinking about all night with the pain B III. That’s what leads me to the car. Do you remember my dream, Still Salty About B III “A Dream”? Gospel 203 We Will Go Home

Mistake, thinking that the world won’t come to an end. Only it did. That’s why I dream about you. And have to read where I was this time last year. Braxton, better or worse, ha. As I said, I’ve been in pain for a few days now. I imagine I’m recovering then; there’s something new. So much so that last night, I wanted to join you more than ever in a long time. Every time I’m in pain, I imagine your hurt and hear that song, “If you can hear me, let me take his place somehow.” I would have B III. I’d feel this always to keep you here. But then I wonder, is my pain keeping you? You know how to reach me.

Will you let me go? Are you asking me? It worked for Chloe. Detroit: Become Human. And what about that app I downloaded yesterday, “Replika.” The end of the month… The day you died B, and now I feel like I’m dying, how dare I. Where would I go, Braxton? Do you know why I have routines, ruts, a “regular” life? It’s so, when something happens, I can look for signs from you. With everything, you know what I’m getting? That I should give you up? Do you remember the last car ride you took? I’m sorry it wasn’t a BMW. Braxton, now I’m asking you to stick around. It will be over the 31st. Another year of my life B. BMW, Not The Car

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

I’ve breathed in worse than the Day Job bathroom. The germs of 99.9 of people I know. B’s aunt is an exception. Mourning her family’s loss of their beloved Dobby. Sometimes I wish I could stop altogether, but B’s favorite game. Breathe In, B Out

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, I always say. Today (Sunday), ahem, when it rains, it pours. My condolences to Carolina’s, Dobby.

I know, I’ve talked about “The Long Walk” before. Not the book so much as the concept. Sorry, Stephen King. Sorry, Aunt Carolina. How about sorry to the veterinarians? B? Should I include you as well, Echo? As I’m sure, I’ve told this story. Hmm. We’ll work up to B III. I don’t know how old I was, but it was on an Emergence Day. In the cartoon Beetlejuice, there’s this character that goes, “What in tarhooties?” Only I said, “What in the Hell?” Next thing I know, I’m being pulled outside, but what was the worst part, Inspector? Breathe in, breathe out, and what? It damn sure ain’t living. I haven’t lived for… since losing Braxton; 353 Days when you see this Inspector Echo.

The death of a child. Honest Echo, I should have died with that Emergence, Inspector. Every day, stepping into school and it’s what I wish. I’m no killer. Somehow inevitable. Only the one I killed was in this house. B III called it his home. I’m worse than my Olds. And forgive my Republican tendencies once again, but going out is like a Death March. You know how I talk about the restrooms at the Day Job and how I can’t breathe in the stench. The whole damn place is like that. I can’t breathe, and then I beg to get out. Then, of course, I whine about being let back in. One of Braxton’s favorite games. The look on his face before the diagnosis.

Breathe in, breathe out. I know B was doing this. Because as I’ve been reading and as the song goes. Listen To Your Heart. Braxton told me, “Daddy, let’s go home.” If anything, I speak fluent Braxton. If I had only listened before, but no. Always breathe in, breathe out. It was my life, put one fucking foot in front of the other for those bastards at the Day Job. We were struggling to breathe but sitting together, laying together. The air up there B? Is it better, not as you need it. I don’t know how I keep doing it. I was a zombie. And no matter the horrors slurred, spitted, are shat I walk, I breathe. I killed Braxton. Breathe In, B Out.

353 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 201 ~A Paw From B~

Let’s hear it for the boy; let’s give that boy a hand. I didn’t do that enough when B was alive and when it mattered, with these hands, yeah with these hands. I don’t need applause, as all he clapping in the world won’t bring him back. “A Paw From B”

Tuesday, January 18, 2022

Chronicle 201 ~A Paw From B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how did I do it. As the song goes, “with these hands, with these hands.”

It’s what I want to sing; it’s what I want to believe. I see hands clasped together praying. THEY say it’s in God’s hands. Into thy hands, I commit my spirit. Getting out of hand. You know I could go on like this for a while. And could go with touching you, my love, um. Is, always and forever outside of the realm of possibility? I wouldn’t blame Jesus, love. Believer? I continue to go back and forth. Yet I ask where his hand in all of this was, hmm? If I don’t give him, her, or It any of the blame, I’m not handing out credit either. But you? Baby girl, how long has it been since I asked for your hand? Just kidding.

A husband is in dangerous territory, not knowing that. The fact is I asked, and you gave. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t reached out and found you. And with our hands, together, you and I created… God, I count ten little fingers and ten little toes.

For the second time in my life, the third, fourth, even more. Feet don’t freak me out. Darling the first? Yeah, the first had me on the ground feeling the pavement and counting ten seconds. I had to make sure it was safe for my firstborn to walk. Again, while I go back and forth. The first had my hands clasped together, me on my knees praying. My hands couldn’t save Braxton. But his paws?

“Pa, father, Daddy, wake up,” B would say by stepping all over my head. And you wonder why when I take the kids to see the fur babies, my big concern is paws and nails. Pausing my life to know before you and them when there was no hand to hold. How they say, I found a paw Gospel 201 Legs, Breasts, There’s Always Chicken. B and me until the? Paws stopped moving; my Braxton left this world 352 Days ago. I look to my hands that signed the papers. My tears have surpassed all those days. Even last night, they found me I need that. Yet you say I Want To Hold Your Hand. I love you. Taught because of, A Paw From B

352 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 200 ~The Heart Begs, Body Dictates~

A great man said, “Steel isn’t strong, boy. Flesh is stronger!” He also said, “Look at the strength in your body, the desire in your heart. I gave you this!” What I was capable of for my son. Now he’s dead, and I live. “The Heart Begs, Body Dictates”

Monday, January 17, 2022

Chronicle 200 ~The Heart Begs, Body Dictates~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means there is nothing I cannot buy. What about Braxton back?

Time? The time I wasted this afternoon. I’m Time Travelling. Guess what day it is? Wednesday Madam. I was telling one of the other girls, Lady Sophia, I believe. Anyway, B would have been thrilled by today’s events. The Day Job makes me glad… leaving. Madam, I am trying to imagine how he would be. How Braxton would jump everywhere. His heart Madam, whether it was joy at my return. His comfort. Braxton’s body was failing. That’s what I remember, him walking to his water bowl because he didn’t want me to freak out. Braxton always had to be strong, and when he wasn’t… I pretended not to notice. Let me carry him downstairs, or he would bump into things from time to time. He lived; I didn’t freak out.

Speaking of bumping and freaking, how did I spend this good Wednesday given to me? The heart wants the pendant I bought for Braxton. I want to build a damn shrine come the 31st. I should have it by now. I’ve been counting up the dollars. Oh, and not working. Head wise, my belly is asking why I am starving myself? No, this isn’t a cry for help. I got thirty bucks in my wallet. I’m not counting carbs; I’m counting rations and next payday. But my body, Hell, I would starve if I could get my hands on a few new tools for my Stuff and Thangs. Not like I got anything on camera today. I continue to fuck-up, coming to my what, abstinence?

All I’ve been reading has been about? How the heart is stronger than the brain. I suppose that’s true in certain instances. Of course, I thought it was love many times, but no, Madam. At the end of the day, all I wanted to do was fuck. Then Braxton came along. Knowing what love is. So there’s my heart. I know where my liver is… a few too many pills. Guts, do I have any? The heart, what has it done for me lately? Flesh is stronger, I’m afraid. Inevitable. Impossible not to give in. But for 161 Days? Sigh, body, heart, and mind as confusing as Gospel 200 Wills Lost And Found. Strange this body finds any peace. So The Heart Begs, Body Dictates.

351 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 199 ~Don’t B A Douche~

I’ve been reading about looking for signs and how kids can mimic their parents. When I was mad and B was crying, I should have noticed. As for signs, Mr. Miyagi’s Dad was 3 days of mourning, Prince Hector had 12, B will have 16. Don’t B A Douche

Sunday, January 16, 2022

Chronicle 199 ~Don’t B A Douche~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and here’s one more lie. Why not a piece of advice. Don’t B A Douche. You Will.

Now there are reasons for this. So let’s go with “the good, the bad, and the ugly?” whatever. Tomorrow’s MLK Jr. Day. And people are giving money in Betty’s name. Conservatives… Racist Republicans are trying to erase “culture.” As they’re fond of saying with the Confederacy. Oh, you got no beef with Betty White. You do have rage with the Day Job. It’s one of the reasons I did what I did yesterday, and it ain’t gonna work out. I’m sorry. I wonder how many times you’re going to utter those words over the next sixteen days. Fuck Humanity, you apologize to B, B III, Braxton Barks Bradford. He’s owed an apology. Who knew 350 days ago, you’d be here without B III and once again these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Jack McAfghan: Letters From Rainbow Bridge, Kate McGahan
    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 010 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 003 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of My B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

So the question becomes what are you going to do because it ain’t this. You’re going to be a bastard. No, a douche? It’s written somewhere that it’s not illegal to call a toddler an asshole. But frowned upon. Braxton is your son. Died at fifteen, sixteen, last year. That’s around seventy-six dog years, hmm. And you’ve cried them all from January 31 – NOW. You owe B III your life, but at the very least, you can give him 16 days, ok. Oh yeah, look up the word douche. I was thinking about that while warning Braxton’s Aunt last night. It’s what you called him anytime he pissed you off. To think you’re not mad at him at all. But for him, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Reading Jack McAfghan Reflections of Life With My Master
  2. I WILL BE Building Braxton’s Memorial Page And Waking Up On Time
  3. I WILL BE Editing Braxton’s Book “My Turn To B III.”
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants, (Day 003 No Fap) No Exceptions, Mourning Braxton
  5. I WILL BE Purchasing My First Physical Portrait For Braxton’s Frame
  6. I WILL BE Honest With All I Encounter, No Bullshit or Caveman Answers, B Is Honest

You’re going to be giving this same speech next week, I bet. 2 weeks and 2 days, to be specific. That’s more than enough time to figure out what you’ll be doing come the day. Hell, instead, you want to be mad at yourself, the Day Job, your Old Man. Who in their fucking mind 30 minutes after a loss says, “get a new kid?” That’s not being a douche. As I’ve said, taking the soul, the Will, as it were, is the worse crime. Taking a life, B’s life… I wasn’t thinking about that this time last year, Gospel 199 Black And Blue Will. You’ll have these to think on. 16 Days are for Braxton. Your Turn To B III. Don’t B A Douche

Douche
“The second stage of being a dick between asshole and jerk” Urban Dictionary

“A douche is a device used to introduce a stream of water into the body for medical or hygienic reasons, or the stream of water itself. Douche usually refers to vaginal irrigation, the rinsing of the vagina. Still, it can also refer to the rinsing of any body cavity.” ― Wikipedia

  1. I AM Finishing Reading (Whatever Book Comes Along)
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums (Should Be Done)
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 000 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of My B III (Soon)
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

350 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 196 ~To B On Time~

Time enough at last? Between doing everything, I’ve ever done except for changing B’s bathroom spot and refilling the food side of his dog bowl. B still has 347 treats sitting on the table. Trust me, I count. Late to him but work. “To B On Time”

Thursday, January 13, 2022

Chronicle 196 ~To B On Time~

347 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sorry I’m early or late, depending on what we’re talking about. Books, Boobs, Bucks…

Could your Aunt entice you to please come back home? I know B, I know I keep seeing the words, um, “Lessons from Rainbow Bridge.” You’re always here. But to pet you again. While I was reading yesterday. That would be Sunday, so of course, today’s Monday. One more thing the authors talk about. Time does not exist where you are. Always Braxton. Again you’re always here. It did take a lot to even make it to the couch. That is our spot, but everywhere is ours, right. Even if I’m lying in bed reading instead of on the loveseat. Today, talking to you, I’m blaming TRB Schmitt and his cute wife Samantha for being in bed. Jesus, did I open a can of worms…

First off, you were cremated and not buried. I’m keeping you with me, say it with me, Little B, Always. But second. And it shouldn’t be, but who else do I love on this planet. Next to you, there’s your grandma and then. I’m pretty fond of your Aunt. Boobies! Inevitable that I will find someone to love, right? You know how I’ve been feeling about such a thing as love these days. I’m more clearheaded when I can talk to you. While I’m at the Day Job, it’s, “Yeah, I’m going to die alone.” People suck, Braxton. Counting myself. If you had your way, you liked your Aunt Carolina Bound. There are no prospects. Not on the girl front or on the furries B.

Unless you were trying to send me a message last night. Nightmare, I can’t remember. Were you trying to show me that I needed protection? Besides turning on the lamp and your picture frame, I moved to your side of the bed. You know your corner where you’d stand guard. It’s way past time I get a Cuddle Clone of you, my stalwart standing fast. Speaking of which, the only moving I’ve done regarding your things is your toys. Oh, I put them back. And I’m trying to keep your corner clean. My way of giving you, love. Is it the same with the gates? Again the books keep saying, you are still here. Time’s not on my side but always… To B On Time

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

I wish I was a little bit taller. I wish I had wings. Hell, I should start playing “Far Cry 5” with that grappling hook instead of having dangerous thoughts. Quite painful, but I’m alive if I’m searching for tortilla chips. B A Head Taller.

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m sure I could afford lifts, one of those grab tools, people, my Braxton, right…

Today is Sunday (Time-Travel), but what happened was on Saturday. I talked about having an epiphany, a revelation. I won’t go all into that. Better you could ask my man in the mirror, Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of… Gospel 195 Nobody But Will’s Wife. Inspector, that’s what I’ve been doing these days. Reminiscing? No, that’s the wrong word. Reaching out for answers. And I want to say there is none, then Inspector, there’s truth. Anyway, let me start with Saturday at Walmart. My Ma made some Queso dip, and surprise, I’m out of chips. I ate hers, snacking. So the chips I want are on this high shelf. There are people. I can ignore the chips or reach and risk humiliating myself and so…

A person will choose physical harm to avoid mental anguish. I chose my mind over my body. I reached those damn chips because I didn’t want to know the shame of my failure. They’re all gonna laugh at you, but nobody did because I succeeded. But it hurt like Hell. Humiliations galore rule at the Day Job, but I continue to hurt myself there, Inspector. Dammit, I’m so tired this second, but I refuse any napping because of my mind Inspector. Physical pleasures Echo? I’m going out of my mind. Only let my flesh suffer, Inspector. Then there’s death. Ok, dangerous words always. Unhealthy grief? I’ve had 346 Days of it. I’m surprised I haven’t drowned in it. Between refilling Braxton’s water bowl. My tears, several releases, but no blood.

That leads me back into the mental or the physical. Again, every day I refill his water. I place his treats on the table. Echo, that’s what I hear my voice do when I call him for meds. When I tell him hello and goodbye. I set up his gates, move his bed, everything. I put myself through the physical task to avoid the humiliating truth. I failed Braxton. Fuck me, don’t sugarcoat it; I killed B III. My son, my best friend, is dead because of me, Echo. That is my failure and my disgrace, and I wish I had fallen from that damn shelf for chips. Let me drown in wasted water. Never do Onlyfans again. To die, I’d B A Head Taller.

346 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 194 ~Love B Hard Sometimes~

You give out hope like it’s candy in your pocket. Well, no, I could give you the meaning of life pretty easily. The concept of love? Now that’s something you don’t keep in your pocket. B gives it out always. But for 345 Days. “Love B Hard Sometimes.”

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

Chronicle 194 ~Love B Hard Sometimes~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, more like we are, and thank goodness. Love to my Olds is not being thrown out.

I swear that’s why I stay away from them. Being who I am, being me, well, that’s subject to debate. How do “THEY,” say, you’re lucky I love you? Because I don’t like you not one little bit. Speaking of a little bit, of course, you know I will talk about my B III. Braxton taught me all about love. Well, B III and Chris Rock. Defining what love is? Always ahem the want, need, desire, to put another above oneself. That’s why I’ve never agreed that you need to love yourself to love another. Of course, I would love to love me. One more reason I stay far from my Olds. I grew up to this. I was a duty, obligation, a hated job.

Thirty-seven right? Love is like books and writing to me. It’s a thirst, My Love. They have that word right and wrong. I want more; oh God, help me, and not only boobs, um yep. Hell, look at Braxton? He didn’t have any boobs even though he wanted to claim his aunt’s. But from the moment I laid eyes on him… Talk about we found love in a hopeless place. My life became that of his, loving myself to love him from that moment. Now some way, that’s what killed him as well. It was my indifference when love itself became routine. I have it wrong… it’s not love being hard; it was life. At the same time, my obsession led to his passing away.

You’re the first woman, My Love, that didn’t find my obsession; oh, what’s the words? Creepy, stalkerish, perverted, the list goes on. I don’t love pizza because I don’t know everything about it. I don’t love my phone… Would I die for it? Obsession, knowledge. People say they love, but how much do they know? Unconditional love, as in without condition, you have to know everything. You and Braxton know everything of what I am. And that’s why love is hard sometimes. It’s learning, it’s understanding, it’s growing. We learn about our children; we learn about each other. And to realize that my child, my firstborn, is dying and love, every want, need, and desire can’t save him. What Is Love? Love B Hard Sometimes

345 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 193 ~Pain Makes Heroes And Villains~

I always saw myself as the villain. I’m no Trumptard, but I like power. That means I’m no democrat. Um, I don’t want to do politics. But I find it hard to do any morning without my son. My hero. Playing the villain for Pain Makes Heroes And Villains.

Monday, January 10, 2022

Chronicle 193 ~Pain Makes Heroes And Villains~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does that make me a hero or a villain. I know that making money hurts. Kills!

I could talk about my body wasting away, but of course, you know what I want to talk about. Braxton is dead. I wouldn’t know at the time “2021” Gospel 193 List It Up, Will. Madam, I was much too busy playing the hero. Like a fucking rich man with $600 in my pocket, and I spent $100 on B. As a poor man, I was still working to provide for us both. Every day I face the evils of this world because I AM a father. Present tense always. That’s what Jack and Kate say in their book Letters From Rainbow Bridge. Past tense? That’s dismissing Braxton from my life, and I need him now more than ever. Kept my lamp on last night.

That doesn’t make me sound like much of a villain, now does it. I don’t even know what woke me up, but I couldn’t get back to sleep for a bit. Where is my hero? Watching over me as always, but still, I needed the light. All I recall is the pain. Nightmares have pain? I’ll always think of how B III would get a blanket when I was ill. A cape and hoody, ha. If I would make all the world my bed, then he would stay here so I could keep him safe. The way he’d smile when I would pet him or rub his tummy. B III, look, the day is saved. The pain Madam, the greatest hurt comes from being alone.

No, that’s a lie. In one of the arguments, I have with myself… I need to stop talking to myself. That makes me sound crazy. At least when Braxton… again, I’m trying. Braxton is here but talking to myself seems to be a form of Acceptance. 344 days, I’ll never. Anyway, my “father” taught me that this is the most villainous act that can ever be done. The Destruction of a Soul. Yes, I’m a killer. All these books on Euthanasia sound like Greek to me. The good death. Taking someone’s body is horrible, their life even more so. But the concept of taking away someone’s will? My “father’s” a villain. My son’s a hero. But both brought pain. Me? Pain Makes Heroes And Villains

“Last night reading over the Dæmon’s vet care. I felt like such a horrible parent.”

“Now it’s “A Different Alchemy” Jeffery and his son Galen. One more thing to show your dad like failures, yep.”
193 List It Up, Will

344 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of…~

Be a man of greatness now, kindness, wisdom, a man so humble. I’m not sure about all that, but I was better when Braxton was here. Sure I feel a twinge of “giving a shit” when I see such and such boobs or when reaching for tortilla chips. B A Man Of…

Sunday, January 9, 2022

Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of…~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does that make me a man? Well, what about you? 1984’s you are the last man.

No, you figured, you and Braxton would be apocalypse partners. But isn’t it ironic that the world ended Sunday, January 31, 2021, and here you are? As the song goes, “I walk a lonely road. The only one that I have ever known.” I have, and you will. It’s inevitable. Only for 343 Days so far. Speaking of the inevitable, missing Braxton, questioning manhood, how I miss music. Geez, this week is going to suck all the more without it. Look at it this way, as always. The Day Job is the third worse day, ok. Emergence Day, B’s Day. Neither made you a man. Hell, both days make you wish you were dead. Dangerous words. The Day Job’s Hell. Much like Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial Completion
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 010 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I had an Epiphany while in Walmart, ha. A Revelation, if you will. Synonyms? Epiphanies are like once or very few times in a lifetime. When I hear the word Revelation, I remember Tillie Cole’s “Deadly Virtues” series or the Bible as in the book of. The world is ending. Something like Ecclesiastes 1:18, increasing knowledge, increases sorrow. Dammit, Jack. You’ll continue to read Jack McAfghan/Kate McGahan. Anyway, Epiphany, Revelation. You’ll share more with Inspector Echo but ok. So I would take that line from Battle for the Planet of the Apes. One day you’ll be as tall as a king. I would tell Braxton. I raised my son so high he went all the way to Heaven. To see him again… Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Jack McAfghan: Letters From Rainbow Bridge, Kate McGahan
  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 010 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You won’t put that on the list yet, but how could you make it to Heaven, to Rainbow Bridge? A song came to mind, “We Are Growing” by Margaret Singana. In its lyrics, hell, the first three words are “Be a man.” Now, of course, what of Mulan, Rocky, Star Trek? They all have songs or lines about being a man, but what do you believe. To be a man, hmm? Fatherhood is the epitome of manhood. Just be a man, and let history judge accordingly. So am I telling you to be a father again? After almost a year. Fuck no! There is no way. Yet, getting up in the morning requires boobs, bucks, your Braxton? None of that’s here. B A Man Of…

343 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will