Tag: Man

Gospel 223 ~Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie~

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The person that has made fun of me for crying the most is my Old Man. I don’t want to talk about him, though. Why did Braxton feel he had to be so strong for me? I’ve cried most more times in nine days than… Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie.

Tuesday, February 2, 2021

Gospel 223 ~Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I would only have you cry tears of joy. There is no joy in me.

Was it wrong of me not to take you and our other children with me to Braxton’s goodbye? All my life, I was taught that a man ain’t supposed to cry. Nowhere motivationally, all my music, and from an individual, I hope you never meet; my “father.” Braxton didn’t cry. So how many times have you caught me, hmm? I remain a traditionalist that a man must be strong. My son was the strongest man even when I was running around calling him a puppy. One day out of seven is what I blame myself for, well, two days. The day he did cry, and the day I would never hear him cry again. A Wednesday and Sunday, because he took after me. My Braxton.

How is it okay for a man to hate but not to cry? I hated. Not him, never my son, but I hated people and ignored his crying. Now it’s all I do. I hate myself, and I cry for him, and there’s nothing. Indiana Gone told me before she got married that if her groom wasn’t crying, she was going back up the aisle. I’m sure I teared-up out of love for you when it was our turn. Only the tears that I have shed in nine days alone. Has it only been over a week, and I’ve been sniffling, sobbing, silent except for the times you’ve caught me. I’m sure Indiana Gone has shed some tears, and others, even you. But should I?

For the first time from forever, I have to say this time; I don’t give a damn what you think. I don’t mean to sound awful, but I was Braxton’s father before you. If he had cried just one time that Sunday? No, he cried Wednesday as I stewed in bed, hating the whole world, losing my soul. I lost him, and the fact that such was allowed to happen? No again, this is my fault; only I don’t cry for me but only for him. It makes me wonder why I was made so. It scares me still when our children cried as babies and cry now. Should I let you grieve with me, the loss of my Braxton? No, Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 222 ~Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets~

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I don’t know what’s worst than saying Braxton’s gone, my son is dead. Everything that has been said and not, nothing will trump that. Yet in life, we keep some things to ourselves, right? “Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets,” right

Monday, February 8, 2021

Gospel 222 ~Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets~

Hundred And Seventy-Forth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should have plenty of secrets. You know I do, but for the first time in forever, I don’t care. I’ve told you the worst thing I’ve ever done. Madam Justice, I’ll keep saying it. I killed my son, Braxton is dead because of me. For my failure at being his father, he paid with his life. I’m scared, of course. At the same time, I’ve got nothing left to lose. Why should I care about anything else? What makes me a man has nothing to do with, as the song goes, Underneath Your Clothes.

Take away a man’s son, you’ve truly given him nothing left to lose. – Zombieland

I also don’t have to sing “I Wish It Would Rain,” for I am not ashamed of crying. Hell, it might help to feel anger. It’s been one week; well, it’s Saturday now. Who am I to talk about the stages of grief? I haven’t cried like this since… I don’t know; I’m in Denial. It’s one of the reasons I won’t share this more publicly. I’m not my father. Didn’t I tell you before? I could still feel Braxton’s warmth, and he’s all like, “get a new dog.” He’s lost two, and I don’t recall batting an eye, but I didn’t say, “oh well.” Then his mother died um. Nothing ever hid his hatred towards me. I’ve heard the Christians talk about putting on the whole “Armor of God.” It would do nothing to shield me from my anxiety. Give me dog hair any day of the week. Still, I walked in with Braxton, and I walked out alone.

I bore my soul to the world, and what of Braxton’s? Haven’t I said I would have saved or sold mine to keep his? I haven’t cared about my body since. Only I keep dressing, going to the Day Job, I took a shower somehow. Um, does any of this have to do with the rule? Honestly, I haven’t looked; I mean, really seen a woman since the vets had mercy on Braxton. I still have Twitter, of course, and artistic endeavors. To be honest, I haven’t been checking the bank except to shop online for food. How will I ever go into Walmart Sunday? Women hide things, and I’m a man hell with nothing more. Fatherhood, heart, balls, Braxton

No one knows what it’s like… ha, plenty know. But, Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 220 ~Will’s Sound Of Silence~

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Is Braxton listening? How high’s the water bill just for refilling a bowl to sit there. Not wasting money on food as nobody needs to see me sobbing in the middle of Walmart. If it wasn’t for my madness, would I even speak? “Will’s Sound Of Silence.”

Saturday, February 6, 2021

Gospel 220 ~Will’s Sound Of Silence~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but not because I’m close to anything like Simon & Garfunkel. What does silence sound like?

Someone asked this on Ridiculousness. I’m surprised I remember that; it’s background noise because I’m still listening for Braxton. That’s the simplest answer I have, Lady Luna. A life with a dog and then keep living without them. Every day, keep going, on and on. Sobbing, screaming, up until the very end, I was praying. I have prayed, I mean really 3 times in my life. Only once for myself. Save him somehow, save my son, save my Braxton. Every time I left the house, I prayed continuously. Haven’t talked to God in 6 days. Seventh-day he rested if I know my Bible. Other books have become background as well without Braxton’s breaths, the beats of his heart. Even his bellyaching. Then he wasn’t eating.

Sucking up to me and dying. Showing such strength because Braxton didn’t want me to worry. I want to hear his paws on the floor again. The way he would lap up water and dive into food. Especially when he knew that there would be sharing Daddy’s sometimes. His “humpfs” Sleep came easier to the both of us. Well fuck, he protected me, and what did I do for him? I am not a liar, Lady Lu. I put him to “sleep?” No, I sleep when I can because when I wake up, I’m here without him. It’s 1 more second I have to live with what I’ve done. Murderer… say it again and again because he’s no longer here. Braxton, such was my goodness.

Sorry is all I hear now, which only makes the silence that much louder. The first day it was like the heavens opened up for my boy. Another day it was a choir. Then the “tryouts.” It’s been oh 6 days, I’m crying, my heart is cracking, breaking, shattering, yes. Selfish of me to put such suffering on others, isn’t it? I’m not blaming anyone but me. I’m the one who had to cover up his name because scammers, scum, and snakes came out of the woodwork. The one life I could turn to is the life that I ended. Braxton, I still talk to. Signs of my madness saying “Night, Night,” “Medicine Time, etc.

Because his quiet is too much. Will’s Sound of Silence.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 219 ~For Will, Pancakes, Braxton~

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I don’t want to talk about other people’s stories now. It’s only been a few days, and I keep thinking I should write out Braxton’s. That is when I can see straight for a little while. Not from hunger but too many tears. “For Will, Pancakes, Braxton.”

Friday, February 5, 2021

Gospel 219 ~For Will, Pancakes, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I still buy pancakes. I’ve told the pancake stories, and here we go again, ready?

Braxton was young, and I was too old to still live with my Olds; much too old. I had a thing for Aunt Jemima French Toast, or maybe it was waffles. One morning after getting breakfast, I forgot a drink and left the food sitting on my bed. I come back and find this ball of fluff soaked in syrup, a big grin on his face, happy as can be. Well, the next day, I sit a plate of pancakes out of his reach. My Mom comes by and says, “You must really love pancakes.” That’s how I love my son. I would start saying, “I love you like pancakes,” meaning I placed him higher than anything in my life. My heart, my mind, Heaven…

When he was born, though… I wasn’t there. He came into my life in the hands of his grandfather. Braxton couldn’t have been more mine, but he started as a “gift” to my sister. I should have treated him as my “present” every day, but come another Sunday and TWD…

“When you were, uh, pouring the Bisquick, were you trying to make pancakes?” from TWD.

I made Braxton my son. He made me a better man, an alright one, a father. He died Sunday but today’s not that story. Not for you anyway, as I try to block it out, but it plays again; my little boy, dying there. I’ll start crying again, and not a day has gone by without tears. Making other kids…

No, not one could sit in my lap the way he did; how he would curl up as if I were a plate and he was a pancake. No matter what, he was a little prince, and I was his throne. Sometimes he would bring his toy like a scepter and sit it beside me. He would place it in my lap when he rather not be bothered. Near the end, he would lie there, sweating, “leaking” I don’t know what. I still haven’t washed the sheets or his stuff. If it weren’t for work, he would always be on my jeans. Everyone tells me to eat, and right now… Hell, my stomach will be filled, but I am empty. Needing, For Will, Pancakes, Braxton.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 217 ~You’re Killing Me, Will~

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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 216 ~Will And His Pancakes~

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I’ve always stuck with three pancakes. Maybe it’s how they’re packaged sometimes. I’m the bottom one, the middle wife, family, all I care for. This leads me to the top, that one covered in syrupy buttery goodness. Let me explain Will And His Pancakes

Tuesday, February 2, 2021

Gospel 216 ~Will And His Pancakes~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and still, you’re so high, high above me. Only I have to tell you now, despite what happened Sunday (Time-Travel), my Dæmon is up there. Once upon a time in my young and dumb days, I told my mom she didn’t know Unconditional Love. I was wrong then, and perhaps I am now, but what taught me to love, or um who? My mother loves me, you love me, and yes, I know I’m still iffy on that. Was it God… oh, let’s spell it backward. It was my DOG, firstborn, my Dæmon, yes, Little B.

I read a story about a married man whose wife gave up his cat. It’s one of the oldest rules in the book. Making someone choose between you and their child, nope. Make no mistake, he is my little boy as much as any of my other kids. He was before you, hopefully during you. God, I hate thinking about what has happened, could happen, will someday. I’ve had to think about this love’s end. No, not yours and mine but mine and his. Hell, I will love him forever, so I shouldn’t say that. I honor him each day before and after, The End, I try. Well, let me speak on some of the pancake’s story. When I was a “child,” I had a thing for microwave breakfast. One day I had waffles or French Toast, but I forgot a drink. Little B jumped up on my bed and had his fill of my food, his face dripping in syrup that day, so proud.

The next morning, I had pancakes, and I placed them up high. My mom said, “you sure must love pancakes.” If I had known then, that Little B would be welcomed on my bed. Geez, I‘d go to raining pancakes and other foods on his little head for his entire life. Interesting how high he got. I mean not only on my bed but on my shoulders. I’d carry him. He’s in my heart, in my mind, one day soon (it’s Sunday). I don’t know. As I don’t know God, but that is what Little B was, is… he came above everything else for me. He built me up like his father, and I could not help but lift him higher and higher with love.

As I love you, family, him. Will And His Pancakes.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 215 ~Act From Desire Not Insecurity~

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I don’t know why I’m writing this or if it’ll make sense; after what happened Sunday. I don’t know. Hope for the best, plan for the Worst. In my universe, that means one thing… my son, and the things I may have decided. Act From Desire Not Insecurity

Monday, February 1, 2021

Gospel 215 ~Act From Desire Not Insecurity~

Hundred And Seventy-Third Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but tell me I still have a son? Madam Justice, this is not the time to be looking towards the future, and yet here I am. What I think of him, do for him, are not desires but necessities. I want him to live, yes you could call that a desire. It’s the word LIVE that we should focus on, though. What about Insecurity? No, let’s call it what it is, Fear. What might happen or has? Yes, there is or was Fear, the wonders of time-travel. Anyway, in helping him in one way or another, I do it, no hesitation, Justice.

I could tell you so many things that get me up in the morning. You can take my Day Job as an example. I have no desire to go, but why do I act? There’s a yawn from my son as I lie here. Do I see it today, or is it but a memory? I get so insecure when it comes to my job. Should I change the rule? It is not desire nor any fear. Again it is a necessity. I’m not much for singing, but I will tell you what’s on my mind. As Disney puts it, The Bare Necessities. Um, maybe more to the tune of, it’s too hard living, but I’m afraid to die, Sam Cooke. Madam Justice, out of anyone in this world, it is my son. I don’t care about my life. Hell, tomorrow I’m supposed to talk to Dear Future Wife. What drives me now? Right now, this Saturday is the little ball of fluff lying here fading away, struggling to remain.

I wonder what drives him? He has learned too much from his old man; he knows Fear. Is it over his body? He may not take it that far, and he’s only thinking about jumping off the bed. I want to believe it is his desire not to leave me. How will another replace him?
Never, all I know is I want him here, and no Fear will stop me if I must lie beside him as he departs. I can’t see the future, so who knows if any of this will make sense in a day. I Will him to live, but I desire no more pain for him.

Whatever I do or did… Act From Desire Not Insecurity.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 213 ~Will “B” Seeing You~

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Goodnight B, sweet dreams, I tell him like it’s any other night. I love you like pancakes, I say always. Now all I’m saying is “I’ll Help You” as I carry him around the house. I’m watching my son die… Will “B” Seeing You

Saturday, January 30, 2021

Gospel 213 ~Will “B” Seeing You~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would give it all up to save him. My Dæmon, my Imp, My Prince, My Firstborn Son, little B. Some things there are no words for. I’ve listened to the vets. I have read and studied what I can in this short time, looking for answers. Not one thing helps. What I can do is watch, wait, and be willing. It’s why I’m crying now as I can’t stand to look at him like this, but I’ll be damned if I turn away. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it now “Always and Forever.” I’ve said these four words twice “My Dog Is Dying.”

It’s called Renal Failure (Kidney Failure or Disease). Excuse my ignorance on the subject, but the toxins are filling up in his body. Without his kidneys, he can no longer filter out the bad stuff. It also means he doesn’t want to take the basics, like food and water. “I’ll help you” seems as worthless as if I’d written it down. It’s actions, always actions. I carry him to the bathroom. Sometimes I’ll put him in front of his bowls and beg for him to take something, anything. I let him outside, and he tries, but there’s nothing left. Banfield is trying. I swear if I didn’t think so, I’d go all “John Q,” but what can they do now? “Not yet,” I keep repeating to myself, NOT YET. If I could give my life for his, there wouldn’t even be a question. He’s my child, and my best friend.

“Sleep,” I say, petting him again and again, holding him, keeping him next to me as I write this. Well, in-between the crying fits and Youtube. You have to let go and let God. Accept it, brother. That’s what the dude said in John Q. B sleeping, euthanasia writing The End. The Rainbow Bridge… I’ve been reading up on that too. I can’t imagine Heaven; I never planned on seeing it but for my son? I want to be where he is. He struggles to live because he still sees me. If I could tell him there was such a place if I knew I could follow? “Daddy” has never left his mouth, but that’s what I am to him. The two of us, Father and son, it’s always been.

And every minute that passes by… Will “B” Seeing You

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 212 ~On The “Will” Succubus~

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NOTE I started writing this early in the morning and have only now gotten to posting. For those that don’t already know, my Dæmon is suffering from Renal Failure. I’m not sure if I’ll be up for writing. Okay, this is a mini-review for Succubus Lord 7

Friday, January 29, 2021

Gospel 212 ~On The “Will” Succubus~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but where was my call, text, email… Reddit? To think Lady Sophia, the things I do read, don’t want to, and glad I haven’t. At present, I’m still reading Succubus Lord 8 by Eric Vall. What, I can say that seeing as how I’ll be doing a “mini” review. Sorry to say I hate doing those kinds. I like talking to you, of course, but there’s so much going on. As I was saying, I don’t want to read my Dæmon’s vet bill. There’s been nothing with me and the lawman.

This has a long time coming both my thoughts on Succubus Lord and the series itself. Um, there are 18 of these novels, and the latest came out on January 22 of this year? Anyway, I want to talk about Succubus Lord 7, and well, I’m on 8 right now…

So long story short, Jacob Ralston and company are having a hell of a good time. In Hell? Is there nothing beautiful demon women and an imp sidekick can’t fix, hmm? Not in this universe.

Besides the sex and the jokes, they’re gearing up for a fight with Jacob’s arch-nemesis Azazel of the Fourth Circle.

You know you’ve been reading a series too long when the fight scenes come with your own internal soundtrack. Of course, it reminds me plenty of Succubus by A.J. Markham. That’s what is called a LitRPG. Only A.J. Markham lets you know it’s a game. Why no, I’m not looking up how to summon a Succubus; thank you, Eric Vall. Not that I regret the time at all watching, playing, dreaming but yeah, reading. Then ask me why only four-stars out of five? Why can’t I be like other “Nerds” or “Geeks” playing D&D or World of Warcraft? No offense.

It could be I’m picky, like any connoisseur of “adult narratives” in both visual and novel form. I suppose I get a tad bored, or it’s somewhat sophomoric, in my opinion. It’s not like I could do better. With all the highlights I made in the book, how dare I, right. I enjoy how educational it is… Well, I’ve learned

It’s Dante’s Inferno, to the fourth circle, and Greek stories with the grown-up stuff left in for us to enjoy.

Can I also mention the food? The author focuses on that with almost as much detail as the (more even) than the sex sometimes. Yep, Four stars for always having something down there rustling. Yay!

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 210 ~Will To Break Free~

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I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but I am broken somewhat. Heart, mind, um, something else. You can take your pick. A contradiction that I feel like I’m breaking apart, and at the same time, I can’t be free of that idea. Will To Break Free

Wednesday, January 27, 2021

Gospel 210 ~Will To Break Free~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, sigh; if that were true, I wouldn’t be scared. Inspector Echo, I should have put these two things in my New Year’s Resolutions. One is to stop listening to old white men, um yeah. Two, I shouldn’t put myself in these situations. That same ole trope… Dammit, it’s been over a week. Like the last, all I want is to be sitting on the loveseat or lying in bed. Hell, most days, I’m only praying “not at the Day Job, anywhere but there.” Would it be any easier if it was in front of my son here? What happens to him?

He already lives with a Daddy that isn’t all there. Sure, as the song goes, I’m delirious, out of my mind. I suffer from Anxiety. I Hurt myself today because it’s a Mad World. Ok, how many more depressing songs do I require. Will any of them help with such paranoia. Inspector Echo I have created My Own Prison when it comes to the Day Job. You know I’ve always hated but now? I’ve talked about before how I keep looking at the doors. When the manager sent me to open them, I expected the Police. As the store gets calls… The drawer underneath my knives I keep closed. The things I can’t talk about, that I won’t. The last time I had a freak out with the cops, my “Father” kicked me out. I would have a choice at least here in the house because you know I can’t face it again. NEVER AGAIN!!!

I live by the clock. Again like a broken record, I tell you I hear “call on line 1,” and I set my watch. Wouldn’t it take cops less than an hour? How about a week. It could be the end of the month. Is this how Christians feel. Everything is made precious because of punishment? People have their drugs, alcohol, pick a vice; any vice. Of course, my two are sleeping, and I can’t talk about the other one ever. To be honest, Inspector Echo, I can barely notice, seeing as how I still fell asleep early this morning. Those breaths are free, and no others. Hard fought those.

Interestingly enough, the time I live in. The more I try to ignore old white guys, I find things like a “Terrible thing, to live in fear.” Thanks, Stephen King.

There’s innocent fear and guilty. Mine? Will To Break Free

I Will Have No Fear