Tag: Life

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

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Please say Hello to me… that’s after having such a nice dream. I’d forget it all if B III woke me up by running over my face, asking me for treats, or better if I had known something was wrong with him and been his Dad. Hello, Hello, Monsieur B.

Friday, April 30, 2021

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would wave goodbye to all of it just to say, Just Me, Baby B.

Sometimes I’ll say Good Morning Braxton when I walk into his room. The two of us weren’t AM people at all, Ha. There was a time when he would run over my head, eager to go out. Back with my Olds, it would be him barking. Then there’s “Medicine Time.” I’ve been thinking a lot about what THEY call The Golden Rule. I treat others how I would like to be treated. All I want in my life nowadays is peace and quiet. One more reason B III was perfect, we didn’t have to talk… we walked, and that’s how we knew we were ok. People think they are entitled to my voice… fuck people, especially the ASM. Braxton deserved the best version of me.

Now I shouldn’t say all people. Indiana Gone is my second best friend. I worry about M Anime. I still think about Cherry, Okay, even MILF Dos from time to time. But at the end of the day with Braxton, no matter what, I was always me. I got to say hello to myself finally. I could repeat the same stories about Braxton arriving in a monster’s hands. The time I caught him eating my breakfast. How about when he chose me as he jumped into the car? If I kept but one promise to my son, it was this. When I would leave, I told him I’ll be back. Do I look like The Terminator? Better you don’t answer that, my future being uncertain.

My favorite part of the day was crawling up the steps and seeing him. I would pet his head, hug him, let him jump all around, and then I’d ask, “you want to go outside?” Give me that moment forever. The Stairway to Heaven or The Rainbow Bridge, Braxton awaits. So here come the waterworks… Braxton’s last day and I dared to say Good Morning. The hello I gave him after the vet gave me the final prognosis on him, and I held him like we hadn’t seen each other in forever. I can even smell him. The brief moment after his death when the storm passed, there was such sunlight, Just Me, Baby B.

I’ve said hello in many ways. Hello, Hello, Monsieur B

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 302 ~What’s The B Ending~

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I had no idea how bad Wednesday was going to be. The last one that was so… heinous, B III cried, but all I could do was pick him up, wrap him under my arm, and nap. It didn’t end there; the week only got worse but for a moment. “What’s The B Ending?”

Thursday, April 29, 2021

Gospel 302 ~What’s The B Ending~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I don’t really want to talk about my day, and I haven’t even lived it.

I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that Wednesday when I was feeling this way. Time-Travel, Monsieur B. If I had done more of it on January, 27 perhaps I wouldn’t be here April 29 without you. At present, though, it’s April 24, and you know why I’m speaking. As I tell you every AM, I miss you, B III. I still love you like pancakes, but B, I must confess. Shouldn’t I have done that Wednesday? God, I hate Wednesday and Sunday. Not the days’ fault but mine. So my secret… when I say I miss you, I can hear MILF Dos’s voice. If it’s any consolation, you would have liked her yabbos. Now I know you appreciated Indiana Gone’s, without a doubt.

I was thinking about getting her a picture of you or us. Braxton, she misses you, but that would be weird. Always and forever B, so as long as I’m alive, you will be too until we’re together again. I should try cutting off Youtube once in a while, but um, “He Lives In You.” It’s what I tell myself every day, B, and look at me crying again. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop, but I need something to round out the Anger, especially this week. It’s almost like the one I had when you…. Again I’m not even living this week as I write you B Squared. Tell me something, do I deserve to have this pain end? I finished Camp NaNoWriMo…

Hell, if I had published a book already like Cherry? I saw her this morning, do me a favor, B, and see if you can find a cat named Millie. Talk about “stalking,” remembering some English vixen’s cat on the Rainbow Bridge. I’m still a monk and your Daddy. Braxton, was that even funny? So many things ended when you left, and those that began? I want to stay in the same place, you know, but life has its ways. How dare I say that. You wanted to live and now… was I going to say I want to die? I don’t want to move, I know that. The way our story ended like something out of NieR: Automata. Always, Forever, What’s The B Ending?

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 301 ~Can Count On B~

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15 years, 15 years, and near his 16th birthday found out here wasn’t here. I don’t know why I channeled Kanye West this morning, but I can always count on the background noise. Like me failing, or the Day Job, to make me mad. Can Count On B

Wednesday, April 28, 2021

Gospel 301 ~Can Count On B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which isn’t something to be bragging about, considering when it comes to my son. Braxton counts.

How many times have I said it; Braxton’s Life Matters. Those are three little words like “I love you,” “I miss you,” “I’m sorry B,” “I’ll help you,” so it goes. Numbers Inspector Echo. Fifteen years Inspector Echo and I so want to say sixteen. Would twenty be enough for me? Hell, I wanted all of his tiny little tan/beige hairs to turn Grey. Braxton the Grey, or Braxton the White. Does that sound mean? No meaner than saying that he wanted to go. In two days, it will be official. Braxton and I haven’t been apart longer than two months and some change. But May 1 will mark three months. Will I still be crying every day for him? I shouldn’t jinx myself, hmm.

I keep talking about step two of the Five Stages of Grief. Inspector Echo, I don’t know if my anger has subsided yet. As usual, I am traveling the sands of time lost because indeed I am so. B III was my constant even in death. Today is April 22, and I’m lying in this bed. The ideas that come… not those, for I am still a monk. By the time I see this again, I won’t have 5000 words to worry about. Now that will mean I’ve done my first NaNoWriMo without B III. I don’t expect the feeling will change much but with my anger at the ASM. Let’s say I do publish. I make enough to quit the Day Job, a bargain.

No matter how much I get, none of it would buy back one day I lost with B. The last five that we would have. As the song goes, “All around me are familiar faces. Worn out places, worn out faces.” I see new babies, fur babies, and how many times have I said, No? Inspector, I lost my family. I don’t deserve another; not like any could compare. That’s the thought that keeps me here. One day I will run out of treats to place in Braxton’s room. Sooner or later, I will look at these Chihuahuas and, unlike God, will say I’m lonely. Always and forever, I will remember my son. He counted on me, and what happened? I Can Count On B.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 300 ~B Cause Growing Up~

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B III IS always a puppy to me, but he grew up. He can climb the stairs and hop on the bed. B was the angel or devil on my shoulder. Sometimes he would step on my face, and now I see how high he’s gotten. Should I stop crying? B Cause Growing Up.

Tuesday, April 27, 2021

Gospel 300 ~B Cause Growing Up~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but why did I want to be? Power, no more, no less. God is Power, right?

Like the song goes, “I put my thing down, flip it and reverse it” thanks a bunch, Missy Elliott. Taking in all the connotations of that song, consider this. I put Braxton down (no, I killed him). As for flip it… if I want to see him, I look to Heaven, or there’s his “coffin.” I should call it an urn. It’s a box that I have to unscrew to see his ashes. Finally, reverse it; what’s God spelled backward… Dog. My Dog, my friend. My son is Power. Braxton is my heart; why not go ahead and say my everything. Um, I didn’t know I could love so much. Then you came along, My Love. That’s not an insult; it’s a fact, my reality.

They say God is love, but again Dog is love. THEY say that most people don’t know what they want. I know long ago when I spelled my first word. As I put pen to paper, I wanted to be a writer. Oh, I wanted to be a sword fighter too, so we both see which one I stuck with, ha. I wanted to be a fighter pilot, a comedian, a wartime journalist. Nowadays, “I’m a motherfuckin’ Starboy” Pardon my French, but my life is pretty hilarious. And how about how I write. I don’t need a war; all I have to do is sit down and bleed. A tad offensive? Such things weren’t when I was growing up. Here I am, crying about Braxton.

I’m just a little boy, a grown-ass man crying about a puppy. I don’t know when I decided I wanted to be a Dad. I’ve had dogs before, at my grandma’s house. B wasn’t even the first Dog I held as he died. I was covered in a puppy’s blood once; my fucking granddad. I’ve told the story enough; the day my Olds moved, and I called to Braxton. He came running without a second thought. I’m sure you’re having second, third, even sixteenth thoughts about the man you married. You, baby girl, have blessed me with children. However, I’m still growing, learning, and I have so much love to give. So I want more, undeservedly after my Braxton, no way. B Cause Growing Up

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 299 ~Every Drop Of Blood Cost~

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One can’t only care about the green. I hate someone, not because they’re any color but because they’re a terrible person. I’ve noticed my clothing is more colorful, missing beige and tan dog hair. Just me living my life. Every Drop Of Blood Cost

Monday, April 26, 2021

Gospel 299 ~Every Drop Of Blood Cost~

Hundred And Eighty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but the cost of blood does fluctuate. The fact remains it cost.

Why don’t I go all Bubba with it (ahem) “(blood) is the fruit of the (body).” Yeah, that might not make much sense. Little does going on what, eighty-five days without B III. Something else to be angry about. As always, it’s never at my son but myself and ASM. My how my blood has boiled, frozen, and continues to spill across the pages. Speaking of “Every day, every day, every day I write the book,” should we be chatting today? I continue to time travel as it’s Thursday, April 22, 2021. I’m not a prophet Madam Justice.
Now I’m not a historian either, but the thing is, neither future nor past look favorably on me. Tell me which cost more, Madam Justice, looking to my future or the past.

All I know is my hands are stained with blood that I cannot wipe away. Fifteen years and a month shy of sixteen. I wake up seeing red, and while the tears help, where are they now? Yes, I cried for Braxton today but still, when I get out of this bed… fuck such a feeling. As Drake put it, “They tryna take the wave from a nigga. Fuckin’ with the kid and pray for your nigga.” I can only speak for me, Madam Justice but from my tears to Braxton’s water bowl to the sweat and toil of the Day Job. Water… people demand such suffering; it’s human nature. Strange… not really that people want blood, aren’t I a person wishing to be judged for killing my B III.

I went from Paint It Black to Seeing Red. It’s one of the reasons I simply laid in the darkness after the Day Job. In the dark, I can imagine that Braxton is still here. His heart is still beating, the blood we have shed together because “we got enemies.” Braxton’s love. Madam Justice, I must never forget that. If he has gone to the Rainbow Bridge, the first color is red. What’s next, my “Orange Crush,” “Big Yellow Taxi,” “It’s Not Easy Being Green,” “Blue” (Angie Hart), “Mood Indigo,” “Violet” (Seal.) Took time to find those. Can you see why people choose red, blood, and dust? All I want is to find more of B’s hair than hating another black man. In some way, to see the Rainbow Connection.

Every Drop Of Blood Cost

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 298 ~Behave In B’s Haven~

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I’ve compared Braxton to an angel, and I believe people are spelling GOD backward. In that case, I may be trouble if Braxton’s bedroom yesterday was any indication. For all I know, I was stumbling around in there like a zombie. “Behave In B’s Haven.”

Sunday, April 25, 2021

Gospel 298 ~Behave In B’s Haven~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but you can’t hire an exterminator or the Ghostbusters, at least not yet. And why would you?

As the song goes, Lord Give Me A Sign. I ran by one yesterday, and I’m ashamed to say I even stopped and looked. You’re in Hell, so at least have the good sense to suffer and not escape or seek salvation, solace, ha satisfaction. What would B III think of your excuses for alone time? That’s the thing, though; yesterday, I found out that I didn’t have to be… get it. The fact that you remember the five-month-old ball of fluff by the name of Buford and you’re sore about it. It could be everything else you know with Camp NaNoWriMo. Today’s the day. Are you still going to play Grim Reaper and bury a story you’ve neglected the world for? Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus Lord 13 by Eric Vall
    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 114 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 121) No Fap
  5. I Am Not Bowing To The Day Job Under Threat Or Duress
    Completed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Hell, I am not a prophet, and neither are you. At least if I had put finish Camp NaNoWriMo on the list, you would be looking at four wins this AM. It would be almost supernatural. Which is now the whole point; A Hell escaping, undertaker, imagining some Godhood. There’s pride again, and do you think anything you write today will be worth it. All the stories I would write, right here while promising Braxton a better life. And he waited so patiently for me to finish. He still does, only he’s even quieter these days, of so I thought. Don’t jinx yourself. Last week sucked, and this week SIGH, I do not envy you other than again finishing Camp NaNoWriMo. But, Six Impossible Things:

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

What will you do with yourself? Being that an Ordinary Human is the worse type of a monster. You got plumbing to repair (snickers). And you might even get around to mowing the lawn or whatever you do with a weed whacker. Neighbors haven’t knocked. If yesterday is any indication, you’re being haunted by Braxton. I found many of his toys strewn all over the place in his room, and to be honest, it frightened me a little bit. Either I’m more out of it than I realized, or it was a rat. Yeah, a rat that doesn’t eat the dry food and treats or even messes up the table. You just remember to behave; work sucks, I know, sadly. Please Behave In B’s Haven

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 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

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His bark is worse than his bite… God, how I miss that bark. Braxton may not have liked a bunch of people; I can count them up on one hand. He loved me, and the people that do are far less. B fought for me until the end. “The Battling Barker Braxton.”

Friday, April 23, 2021

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I better be as Braxton can’t protect me from what has happened, will or won’t.

Back in B.B. (Before Braxton), when I was in high school, I would “pray” to have hell, someone to pray to at all. A friend to stand with me… though even with B III, I never got around to getting him registered or whatever. Fuck You ASM, I said WHATEVER!!! Pardon me, My Lady, anyway Braxton should have been an Emotional Support Animal. As the song goes, “so take a look at me now,” I’m going crazy. Although that could be the idea of a fight. I’m saying I won’t say YES, I won’t kowtow, back down, hit the ground. If I do, that overgrown, meathead, jock asshole will have to put me there, I swear. However, my first mistake was burying my best friend.

Well, no, B III is sitting on my nightstand, but you know what I mean. Speaking of black men that are threats to my safety, sanity, and self-worth, my “father.” I fought him once and lost but Braxton. My prince knowing, my dude’s in distress, jumping between us, my boy. He got kicked four feet high by my “father” into a wooden door. Braxton and I have shed the same blood in the same mud or across a kitchen floor, at least. Time to get my cry in on this Saturday, April 17. Braxton is forever my son, my brother, and my best friend. He showed such forgiveness, but when my “father” came by without me here, he sat in his bed very scared, waiting.

What I might miss the most as I sit here in bed is where he would be when I slept. I would wake up to see him on the foot of the bed on the corner, staring at the door. As I got going, he would come over, and after making sure I was okay, he would sleep; Daddy’s shift. As I confessed at some point, I’ve never woken up to a girl in the bed. Not in this house. The way Braxton and I would sleep back to back. How he’d guard the gate when we were at my Olds barking up a storm. “Remember who the real enemy is.” Braxton wouldn’t care if I was a hero or villain. The Battling Bard Braxton.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

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There’s no alarm for “mourning.” There’s no routine for it; otherwise, I would listen to He’s My Son by Mark Schultz 24/7. “What A Heavenly Way To Die” that would be. Instead, I take a second step in the five stages of grief. “Sounds Like B Leaving.”

Thursday, April 22, 2021

Gospel 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I don’t want to make you mad, although your Dad is all sorts of pissed.

I know. It sounds like I could be doing better. Today it sounds like I’m going to talk about the good, the bad, and the ugly. Braxton, you were the soundtrack of my life. I need you to know that. Do you remember the day I said, “Braxton get in the car,” and you hopped? The first day you chose me, not my sister, not the grandparents, only me. In their new house, you barked at them in the AM defending the gate for me. The best welcome I got from you was the day your granddad was here. You jumped into my arms, whining. Braxton, the most beautiful sound was nightly. When I would say, “Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams.” You’d paw the bed, settle and sleep beside me.

I hated fighting with you. There were times you would growl at me or snap. I’d be all, “you’re in trouble, the longer you hide.” You and I would both listen for one of my alarms to go off so I could call you a “good puppy” again. Your nails were pacing the floor all alone. I would call you about your meds, but it was hard for you to get down the stairs. I would carry you for so many days, but once you were outside for a walk, you were young again. You couldn’t hop in the car anymore, and I couldn’t blame you; with my final act. No, it started the day you cried… I ignored you.

I swear I thought you were going to be okay. Wednesday, you cried. By Thursday, you were back. I didn’t need the doctor to utter the words that Sunday evening. “He’s Gone.” The worst sound in the world was as I held you there and I heard your final breath. Braxton, I sat there on the stairs that day and cried like I never have before. It was the fucking silence that was killing me. How dare I? I killed you, so my going to Hell is what I deserve. For 72 days, I lived in Denial, I continue, but then the fucking ASM, ANGER. That bastard took my “peace.” Down from Denial to Anger, Up from Treachery to Anger. Always Sounds Like B Leaving.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 294 ~B Guile The Neighbors~

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If B were alive, he’d be P.O.’ed at me. Either because we’d because he can’t do his job of yard defense. Who knows what bugs are out there? It’s also a bit like the fridge; his old food was growing stuff. “B Guile The Neighbors,” looking at the yard?

Wednesday, April 21, 2021

Gospel 294 ~B Guile The Neighbors~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can buy some arcade machines. Not that I was good at Street Fighter…

I hope my neighbors don’t think I’m just lazy. Hell, most of them don’t know that Braxton has passed. To be honest, this is Camp NaNoWriMo season, so um, the house’s a mess, and the yard’s grown wild. I want to say I’ve made it through NaNoWriMo again, hmm. Then what? I publish a book, make my million and move away someday. One more reason B is still in the box and not dust in the wind of the first yard that was all his to defend. I do imagine if he went to Heaven, he’s annoying God; Hell, he’s finally found a doggy playmate. Should I be ashamed for saying that? My shame was in killing him, so fuck my neighbors’ opinions Inspector Echo.

Pardon my French, but Braxton would be pissed with me, and that’s what matters. Is this really going to be about me not cutting the grass this week? Letting my son’s territory be overrun by, well, I don’t know anymore.

Yes, Braxton, my brave, handsome boy, with a big mouth. One day I’ll tell the story of when we first arrived. For now, there are only these facts. I cleaned the house for pretty girls, and I cut the grass for B. He’s one for security, and he never let his size or cuteness stop his bark. To the south is the front door, my job because B um… like father like son and in his defense the girl was hot. Our northern border was all his. He was Ghost, and I was Jon Snow and how we hated yep, Winter Is Coming, Or Spring now, so my problems of late. I feel more like Grey Worm. If you’ve been keeping up with “Dear Future Wife,” I am losing my Missandei too. You want a horrifying confession. Tell me I would have to lose my “man parts,” and I could have B alive and well… I wouldn’t even think twice.

You see how my mind works from Street Fighter’s Guile to Game of Thrones. As always, the background noise is what’s keeping me going without the pitter-patter of tiny paws. Because for now, I’m not going outside. Braxton would bark at them, but the grass… Can’t B Guile The Neighbors.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will