Tag: Lady Lu

Gospel 311 ~What’s A Mom, B~

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Well, it’s Mother’s Day tomorrow. My Ma still has her two and two grandchildren… my sister’s been busy. She’s down one furry grandson as I wasn’t the best father, yet here I am asking. What’s A Mom, B

Saturday, May 8, 2021

Gospel 311 ~What’s A Mom, B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but my Boy, my Braxton, he was an absolute genius. Are you serious? What’s a mom?

If this week hadn’t been absolute shit, I would have spent it answering that question. Mother’s Day is tomorrow; I have no semblance of a plan. Truth be told, I’ve been more focused on 100 days without my son, but yeah, the focus should be on moms; I know that. Again if I knew better, my conversation with Madam Justice would be all about Mom. Should I rewrite it? No, I’m lazy, which explains why I’m writing this so late, 6:00 AM. What my house is freezing and without B…

Well, I haven’t been hugged in what, 97 days? Of course, I could go and cut off the air, figure out a proper temperature. Hell, there is so much to do around here but hugging? Don’t worry, Lady Lu, I’m not going to get all Cotton Hill or even Hank talking about “women’s work.” Anybody can listen, right? I’ve been wondering does my Mom listen? Before I forget, a nice Christian girl reminded me that a Mom gives life. That above should trump everything, but what did I give Braxton. To be honest, Braxton’s dead.

I can’t stop saying that, you know, or to be more specific, I killed him.

That’s what you get when the fucking ASM takes away your peace at the Day Job. To be fair, I would only end up listening to “You Were Loved” by Whitney Houston. B III is loved, always and forever. Now stick with me here, but I’m about to compare Whitney to JFK so forgive me?

When somebody cares that you’re alive
When somebody trusts you with their life
That’s when you’ll know (huh)
That you have all you need ~ You Were Loved, Whitney Houston

“Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country,” John F. Kennedy

So back to my first question, what is a Mom? Braxton would know better having two, a grandmother and aunt.

“Mother is God in the eyes of a child.” Rose Da Silva – Silent Hill

“All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke.” The Road (2009)

Is it “creepy” if I use the concepts of “Faith, Hope, and Love,” and I’m not getting married. Both my mother and son had those things. That goes without saying. I actually looked up the difference between Faith and Hope. And besides being good names for daughters. I’m still sticking with Katniss, Tris, and Ember, “Girls On Fire.” I’d like to believe my Ma still holds out hope for me. As for Love, well, THEY say God is Love, and you read Silent Hill’s words.

A question I don’t understand, but I promised B another Mom? What’s A Mom, B?

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 304 ~Will You Just B~

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I heard in a cartoon, cease becoming begin to be. I figured it was some fortune cookie wisdom, but then there’s the B I lost, my son. There’s my B minus life… that’s being generous. Ever seen my Six Impossible Things. Will You Just B, who’s that

Saturday, May 1, 2021

Gospel 304 ~Will You Just B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’ve been saying that for years. I’ve been dog-less for three months. 90 Days Lu

It’s official, B III and I have now been apart longer than ever. So I ask the question, yeah, will you just be? I don’t know who I am now. Lady Lu, I’m trying okay, like it was old times somehow yesterday, right. I dipped out of work, I dabbled in making a friend happy. Decisions, decisions, have never been my strong suit. Case and point… yes, I will never stop saying it, I killed Braxton. Trump has no idea what it means when he would say “die like a dog.” Speaking of which, I’m surprised I haven’t been fired from the Day Job yet. Talk about will you just be because those assholes think they have me all figured out. Why do zombies persist?

That’s a random question, for sure, Lady Luna. But it’s because nobody has figured them out. Sure Warm Bodies, World War Z, and I can probably name a show here or there that has an answer. My point is that they will continually return. With that, Will Bradford is dead. And you are dealing with somebody else now. Before you get all creeped out… well, not you Lady Lu but “Them,” Morgan Jones said this in Fear The Walking Dead. You know Morgan Jones is dead (Season 6×01). I won’t be what the fucking ASM wants. No way I refuse. I would settle for being the man I was with Braxton, although he was by no means a good one. Braxton would still be alive.

Should I be just like the son I lost? I eat the same meals every day, don’t I? I sleep way too much, but that’s because the man in the mirror won’t get off his lazy ass. I was way too hot. So I finally had to turn on the air conditioner. Now that means I’m cold, and now no B. I would rather cuddle B III than rest with all this hate in my heart. Can I even call it resting? Last night I didn’t eat dinner. I fell apart in the kitchen, yelling for Braxton. I came upstairs and climbed into bed and can’t tell you a thing about wrestling; I fell asleep.

Too busy becoming a sonless father. Will You Just B?

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 297 ~B Free Of Knowing~

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I wouldn’t give up knowing what it’s like to be a Daddy, with respect to those with two-legged children. I know who my enemies are… I can’t be in the dark about that. I know tons, but thinking hurts. Why did zombies eat brains? B Free Of Knowing

Saturday, April 24, 2021

Gospel 297 ~B Free Of Knowing~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Did I just win the lottery? I’d take them on discovering a way to reconstitute “pets.”

The word applies here, but I still hate saying it. Braxton was/is my son, my best friend, my brother, hell everything. Currently, as I’m speaking to you, Lady Lu, it’s Tuesday, April 20, 2021. Yes, I know, time-travel has its way of making it look like I don’t give Two Fux. Lady Lu, I’ll give you a quick recap, AHEM…

Fear The Walking Dead and Monday was exhausting. I did get two “valuable” hours. I didn’t get into it with the ASM. “L-I-V-I-N.” Now a truck unload is coming up this week that is still going on. My peace was shattered on day 73 of Braxton’s passing. I officially moved from Denial to Anger in “The Five Stages of Grief.” I only want to feel dead once again. Mad World

Monday helped. But if I could do day 74 over again? THEY say that you should never let anyone hold sway over your emotions as they hold power over you. Tell that to my bawled fist and a heart, broken out of love but good enough for hatred. BLM indeed. Braxton helped me survive the first year of the pandemic and without him from now on? Did you catch the news today or really any day? Again nothing would make me “happier, no “gladder” than to return to my cocoon, my crypt. A convincing denial I held to so long. At this rate, though I could be fired? Should I be thanking the ASM, or can I find my routine again? Minus the “Another Day.”

Is that what I want, to be a zombie? To choose hate because some asshole pushed me there, to stay in Denial always and forever? Right now, Braxton’s water bowl is full. I’m resting in bed. Feels better than sitting on the couch, heart pounding out of my chest, Anger. Lady Luna, you want me to talk about the future, and it ain’t looking too bright indeed. I worried about B III, I continue to do so. With a storm, I grab his “remains” and keep him close. Am I still at the Day Job, or did the meathead ASM decide to destroy what’s left? Should I do what all my motivations use to say and believe better? The best died. B Free of Knowing.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 290 ~Orange You Glad Braxton~

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Day 76, it’s been hot, not that I’ve been outside, you know, mowing the lawn or taking a walk like B III and I would do. It’s been hot tears, rage, both from work. I have a new villain for my story. I’m trying to find peace. “Orange You Glad Braxton”

Saturday, April 17, 2021

Gospel 290 ~Orange You Glad Braxton~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I better be, as the school bully will be taking my lunch money. Fucking ASM.

Pardon my language My Lady but as the song goes, “Work sucks, I know.” Why we’re talking music? How about this one? “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus. But he talks like a gentleman.” He’s more like John Seed from Far Cry 5, and I’ll die before saying YES. Without fail, I will always take responsibility for Braxton’s death; that is my failure and disgrace. But it is men like at the Day Job that brought about my rage at people and apathy towards B III. It is people like that asshole that make me believe in “Karens.” Dammit, I chose to fall upon my knees for the Day job only to stay there trying to save my son. Have I become a Nihilist?

Eric Thomas said something to the tune of; before you blow up, life will strip you to the core. I lost Braxton, and as I said, I will not kowtow to the new assistant manager, so there goes my job. Now that would leave me with nothing, and am I afraid? Losing B stole fear? I’m sitting there crying over my boy in the office. My hot tears were coursing down my face, while at the same time my blood is burning, call it fire, poison, Hell. I wish I could leave shame out of the mix, but again B has that beat. My walk of shame after his passing. Standing at the car, I was Winston Smith “1984” the moment they killed him there.

You know how THEY say God is spelled backward. I believe in B; I mean, look at it as so. I talk to him, but no one else can see. I call upon him for strength. I believe he took the fall for my sins; I am his prophet. His name is upon my heart and flesh or sometime soon. Like I was telling Indiana Gone, I want to get a tattoo of Braxton’s face underneath my forearm. Starting at the top of his head will be his nickname there.

B III
To the left: JSS (Just Survive Somehow)
To the right: EHC (Elite Hunting Club)
At the bottom: Braxton and the date he left

Below all of that will be Captain America’s shield. I think of the song Left Hand Free from Captain America: Civil War. The shield was a purpose, responsibility, duty, honor, a burden but a privilege, a love. Captain America gave it back, and still, he tried to do what’s true. I could go on, but we will be here all day, sigh. Yeah, right, I can do this all day but then again and not to make “light” of this, but I think of that monk who burned himself alive. Let’s stick with fiction in that of Saint Hakushin from Inuyasha, who became a Living Buddha. Miroku also had his “weapon,” the “Wind Tunnel,” in his right hand but held by his left. I haven’t touched my “weapon” or any of them, except my knife in weeks. Why all this holy man talk? It’s the only way I may ever see Braxton ever again. Heaven…

It beats talking about why I want the EHC lettering and Braxton’s face. In the Hostel movie franchise, they use the Bloodhound to represent their members… killers. But I want B III’s face. Let my flesh burn so I may never forget my crime or the warmth and love of Braxton. Orange You Glad Braxton.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 283 ~What If Braxton Did~

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I swear I heard him in a rush down the stairs. Every time I get an email about a lost pet, I check it. Not helping but thinking I’ll see Braxton’s face. It’s been sixty-nine days, and I still hear him ask why instead of goodbye. “What If Braxton Did”

Saturday, April 10, 2021

Gospel 283 ~What If Braxton Did~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or so it feels that way. With quick deliveries, people know my name, but for Braxton.

What if Braxton did come running down the stairs again? It’s been about ten weeks to the day, sixty-nine to be exact. Cue the South Park “Nice,” which is how I felt with my recent book. Anyway, if Braxton did appear at “medicine time,” if this was always a nightmare? What if B III’s water dish was empty, or I found a mess in his spot at some point? I should start investing in ghost hunting guides. And you’re asking yourself what brought on my “1408” query? Yesterday, I was shaking the pill bottles as standard, calling B once again. What if Triple B was curled up in his bed, only waiting for me to ferry him off to mine? Now I sound like Charon.

If Braxton did tell me, it was okay to let him go? That’s never going to happen, Lady Lu, with my commitment to DENIAL. I said at one point that ANGER was overtaking me and, as far as BARGAINING, to lose myself. There are decent people, and who am I? If B III did tell me that I was forgiven for what happened to him. Well, I know I don’t want that. I still believe that the worst crime anyone can ever commit is taking another’s soul. I took Braxton’s life, not his will to live; I’m not my “father.” B fought for every second. If Triple B did tell me he was thankful for his life, he loved me, and goodbye instead of why?

When I do see Braxton again, at this rate, I’ll be in an insane asylum for sure. Here I am, and I can still feel him all around my feet. If I forget some nearly sixteen-year habit, I burst into tears. Every time I see a missing pet report, I have to check to see if it’s B, the Hell. When I do see B III again, maybe Cerberus is that lonely. As if Braxton went to Hell, but he would follow me as I would follow him. “We can be all poetic and just lose our minds together,” The Last of Us (Left Behind).

When I do see Triple B again, I want him to be proud of me somehow. What If Braxton Did.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 276 ~Boys Will Be Braxton~

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Well, Braxton didn’t like baths. He always wanted a full tummy, and he had no idea what I was talking about, but the noise seemed to soothe him. Yes, I’ve pretty much taken over his role, but in the end, “A Man Provides.” Boys Will Be Braxton though.

Saturday, April 3, 2021

Gospel 276 ~Boys Will Be Braxton~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but if Braxton had any aspirations. He wanted a walk and a full tummy for sure.

The simple things and “WWBD” What would Braxton do? I couldn’t help but notice these past two months, I’ve been living more and more like him. I told you before I can’t wash his bedding. I haven’t made my bed in all that time. Does that sound gross… here’s worse. Everyone checks, now and again, to see that I’m still eating, but what about regular showers? And Indiana Gone wonders why they’re no womenfolk here. At least Braxton had his toy to “play” with. I continue living as a monk, clothed in black and prayer. The only cleaning I have done was because there was no other way around. Again I spilled root beer on my hoodie. Braxton’s dish was beginning to grow some fur.

The silence usually means something is wrong, sadly. Of course, B III and I didn’t stand for noise but without his paws running around. Sounds I once found annoying that I would kill for. To hear his breath once more, and I was there for the last one, Braxton breathed. Again it continues as the only time I hear my voice is when I’m embracing the DENIAL of his passing. The shock when I saw I am starting a new month with his treats. I’ve gotten into ASMR lately. I wonder, is it like when I would leave the radio on for B III, hmm? Speaking of or not of hmm, that’s me at the Day Job, I hardly talk anymore. Seems such a waste

Everything does, and yet I steady on. At least I wish I could tell you that… well, no, not really. I’m more like a kid again, goofing around because, as always, “A Man Provides.” Only since I don’t care about myself and B III is gone. Providing bears no meaning. Interesting thought I had yesterday. If anything, I should look after myself because I’m the last thing that Braxton saw in this world. Imagine Lu, my face, your final vision. Okay, that’s one more way I killed my best friend. B Squared must have found whatever on the side much more appealing. As for my final sight of him, I want a tattoo. Always thinking of flesh, for once my own. Boys Will Be Braxton

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 269 ~Braxton Spills The Beans~

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It’s no secret; Braxton’s gone. I’m not hiding that I’m crazy or knowing I’m guilty. A small boy, but B III had a big bark. If he’s not too busy barking at people at the pearly gates or giving Cerberus a run for his money… “Braxton Spills The Beans.”

Saturday, March 27, 2021

Gospel 269 ~Braxton Spills The Beans~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now or not. Just like Braxton didn’t tell everyone my secrets. His food was a different story…

It’s been weeks since I found any, like the “regular” parents finding their child’s Legos. Of course, his treats and meds are still on the counter. Braxton has a bag of food in the fridge. Then there’s the last opened can and his pan. Lady Luna, why bring this forward? I’ve washed his hoodie today… not by choice, mind you. In Braxton’s final days, he was sweating or wetting himself, not that I care either way. A bottle of soda changed all that. Maybe I can transfer some of the smell from his bed back onto the hoodie. Madness, insanity, perhaps? What’s the secret? I love Braxton like pancakes. But who was to know, as much as I kept him to myself all this time.

Tell that to the hackers and scammers after B left. It’s too soon for Christmas, but Hell, I woke up this morning, and I had no clue what day it was. I don’t know who I am. It’s plenty of assholes who are trying. Did I mention Amazon and my shenanigans? You’re right; I didn’t. Without Braxton’s hunger being a factor? Give me anything to serve as a distraction, which is why I’m later than usual talking to you. The Day Job is still crazy, and this week has the potential to be worse. So many people I don’t know. You’re asking me to explain why I’m here then? As I say every day, Braxton’s Life Matters, but I started talking when he again left.

I’ve dropped stuff from food to tears to his bed. I call for him to take his meds. Only not in getting some scrap of food that got away. He’s not here to flop down beside me. B III would be as mad at my schedule as I am, and instead of his bed, he would hide beneath mine, ha. He wasn’t one to keep secrets, but he would tell white lies to get an extra treat out of me. Again, while I’m way too tired, which I am this morning but shouldn’t I be enjoying it considering, well, whatever. It doesn’t matter as I ask Braxton for strength and know his loss is pain.

My worst crime and Braxton’s somewhere. Braxton Spills The Beans

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 262 ~B Moaning Next Week~

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So what’s our goal? One of my resolutions was to see Braxton through the year… I write six things down every week, and have I ever had a clean sweep. I woke up this morning, and that was a fight. Yet next week… B Moaning Next Week

Saturday, March 20, 2021

Gospel 262 ~B Moaning Next Week~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now and still feel like I’m going to toss my cookies any second now. One more excuse

Indeed, no day can be worse for me than January 31, 2021. I have no right to complain, but next week is going to be bad. Why should I blame Braxton for that with all the horrors going on in the world today? People can be sick in more ways than one dear Lady Luna. B III had two good ears and was used to me going off on some political tangent. At least I pretended I was talking to him. Speaking out loud to a ball of fur makes you endearing. When he’s not here, it makes you crazy. Do I really need to go over my routines again? At least Braxton doesn’t have to endure it any longer. He’d hate the coming week.

To me, as the song goes, “Every Day Is Exactly The Same.” Braxton was waiting from his first day to his last, but he always had something to look forward to. It could be as simple as me getting home. Lady Luna, it’s what we want, and I took for granted, LOVE. Now I could be wrong. At least over the past week. It hasn’t been for love; I’ve been getting out of bed or getting back in. Hell, I’m taking a page from B III; the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can sleep. Everything between my bed and back is mostly filler. However, last night I had a dream or a nightmare. I saw Braxton’s treats destroyed by my mom, strewn out all over the table.

That’s not much of a dream, but I’m not living much of a life either. Next week there will be changes at the Day Job. I have more money to spend, the $1,400 stimulus. Today, might I even clean out the refrigerator with Braxton’s food… or finally, start cleaning bedding? I said before, all the responsibilities would come catching up to me. Again political rhetoric, cancel culture, like my Russian contact… I wanted Westworld. I’m not watching WWE that much, more background noise. Camp NaNoWriMo is about to start soon. Dammit, another first without Braxton here. Last week of normality. But what is normal? It’s me complaining as Braxton waits for me to be happy. I hope he is happy. I’m B Moaning Next Week

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 255 ~This “H” For Braxton~

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While my heart remains broken, you’ll be surprised what Anger can heal. Why won’t people allow me my Denial instead of driving me into Anger? Heroes don’t bury their children but their parents. My OLDS are fine, but for now. This “H” For Braxton

Saturday, March 13, 2021

Gospel 255 ~This “H” For Braxton~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can’t recognize myself anymore. Plenty of people are telling me who I am.

Hulk as in The Hulk, which I turned into yesterday morning. It seems the more I try to live in my Denial that Braxton Is Dead. People are dedicated to shoving me into Anger. Were you ever having a moment of silence, Luna and the phone rings with bad news? I’m a man of routine, and there I am saying, “Good Morning Braxton, I miss you,” and the Day Job calls telling me I’m missing work. I yelled over the phone, and less than an hour later, I’m shouting at two women at work. If B III had been here, would I have cared, hmm? Not that I’m angry at him, nor at vets. It’s starting with me and then the rest of the world.

Hunk of burning love, made into a hellish rage. The hackers, the scammers, and who else? I’m sure people aren’t joining “my” Facebook Group because I’m handsome or an incredible writer. No, my dear Braxton “IS” the cute one. He allowed me to write constantly. Still, M Anime said I have a nice smile, and she likes it when I smile. Of course, it was with a picture of Braxton. Don’t women love guys in uniform or with their kids? My hoodies don’t count, and without Braxton, I mean damn.

I don’t smile much anymore and without masks… Lady Luna, I haven’t been thinking much about women, to be honest. Dare I say I’ve become asexual at this point. The life and family I pictured, Braxton, won’t meet or love.

Hercules, I am not. Now, didn’t Hercules kill his family? Kratos did as well and wore their ashes. Well, aren’t I wearing a pendant with some of Braxton’s “remains?” Great minds, right, considering I spent yesterday night reading in the blackness. It was all about Jacob and making demon lords. I’m about to piss off many REAL parents, but have you ever heard “the smallest coffins are the heaviest to carry”? I don’t know how I did it, Lady Lu and I could never do it again; it’s too much. But that hasn’t stopped me from looking up Deer Head Chihuahuas now has it, Lu. Would I instead make myself Sisyphus or be the Hulk, a hunk, or Hercules, no.

Let me hurt rather than hate. This H For Braxton

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 248 ~SUM Of Braxton’s Parts~

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My foot hurts, my back, I’m still itchy, and as for a cure for a broken heart… Braxton wasn’t an M.D., but he always knew when something was wrong and what was worse. If only I had been better at that, he would be here instead. SUM Of Braxton’s Parts

Saturday, March 6, 2021

Gospel 248 ~SUM Of Braxton’s Parts~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I rather “dance with my puppy” again, for the record “Dance With My Father” blah.

And blah is what I should be saying about all my pain… physically at least. I smashed a toe at the Day Job under a carton of shoes. As has become my habit, I thought of my son with the hurt, and that was that. Watching Braxton leaving me, dying. There is no worse pain Lady Luna. I’ve said before with all my anxiety and terror, there is no greater fear for me anymore. I’m a black man “living” in America; let the cops come. I can’t tell you I love my “father,” but I no longer fear him. Braxton was scared of him too. That brings me to today’s point. B III did so much for me, all “look daddy no hands,” my boy.

He’s still sitting there on the nightstand. His paw prints, the small bag of hair, “The Box” (for those of you keeping score, my second cry of the day). Thirty-Four days ago, there was my alarm clock, two tins full of cash, my knives. Braxton would wake me up anyway.
Well, not for the Day Job, but he was always here, after. Right now, he would probably be sitting on my foot, knowing that it hurts. You won’t believe me, but if I were sick, he would carry my blanket. And sometimes nudge me to my bedroom and welcoming covers. Crying would be something new to him. He whined, and all I wanted to do was sleep. As for now, I’m dead, or it’s never.

If he wasn’t trying to earn his M.D., he was a different sort of alarm, Triple B Security, that’s what. He protected the house every day and, of course, me. It’s still scary, and to be honest, I had only touched my gun once a few days ago; frightening thoughts. Only Braxton was all about my health. I don’t remember the last time I took a walk. To work, shop, but I don’t really shop now. I think I said Subway and a bucket of chicken. I never bought Braxton anything from the Day Job. Otherwise, I’d be more broke. Saving money and losing it; a man of contradiction. I need Braxton here to show that I’m not crazy. There’s only SUM of Braxton’s Parts.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton