Gospel 346 ~Be Something B Cause~

I’ve said this before, how my Ma would say, I would find my way. My aunt would say I wanted to destroy the world. She was wrong “in a way,” I only ended my world, which is why Braxton ain’t here. Be Something B Cause it’s getting hard to breathe

Saturday, June 12, 2021

Gospel 346 ~Be Something B Cause~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I were Eric Thomas, I’d be a millionaire. I know what’s what. I’m here.

It’s 4:30 in the morning, and Eric Thomas wakes up at 3:00. Hell Lady Lu, I’ve woken up at 2:00 for far less money and for what. We both know the answer to that. At the same time, I have stayed up until 4:00 in the morning. So like a Backstreet Boy, tell me why. 132 days, and like the moon, which is your namesake, B III’s smell has yet to disappear. At the moment, he is lending me his strength, giving me focus, purpose, cause. I have a dream, and now it’s time to put that vision into action. Perhaps this is merely insanity. Haven’t I mentioned Eric Thomas, The Backstreet Boys, and MLK in the span of a few minutes? It’s too early.

Which is what I told myself when Braxton lay dying. I’m not ready yet, but I’m a fighter, a friend, a father. Any of that sounds better than a Freight Associate; excuse me, I’m more Operational now. But, of course, that would be fine if I was building Death Stars. First off, and I believe I’ve told you or one of the girls before, my aunt was wrong. Destroying worlds is not something I agree with. Yet, I would take that in comparison to what I do for a “living.” Only this week, I’ve squandered extensively so many days, yep. To think I would use Braxton as an excuse, but he was also a reason. Now he is but a memory driving these words forward.

I found myself in the store yesterday questioning what’s it all for. I stood in the same spot I once had on January 31, picking out a digital frame for his pictures. Yes, tears Lady Luna. Ironic I don’t want him to see me now as I picked out a tripod to hold my phone for “Stuff And Thangs.” I still haven’t quit that foolishness… what about my vow and everything? I can’t keep saying tomorrow; how about July when I write my book about him. With all the letters I have ready to go, and it could always be my laziness in the end. Last year I had a few months to think, not do. Braxton, give me strength to Be Something B Cause.

132 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 345 ~Good Morning B, Sorry~

Last week I talked about “sleepytime,” and this one, I’m still as lazy. Only more to the point of what it was/is like to wake up with somebody that loves you. Other than Braxton, I can’t say I have much experience. Good Morning B, Sorry, but rest now

Friday, June 11, 2021

Gospel 345 ~Good Morning B, Sorry~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how’s that for waking up with gratitude. I suppose I’m grateful for sleeping even more.

As always, a note that I’m not suicidal, but if I could sleep forever… Again I woke up at 4:00 AM, said my stomach hurts, and fell back asleep. I didn’t have anything pressing, hmm. Braxton wasn’t here to step on my face. His fur wasn’t all over the place. I’m sure he would have found something to bark at by now. I’d take those mornings over this, I know. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate them more. Inspector Echo is one to hear my confessions. Braxton is somewhere resting upon the perfect comfy spot that he’s still digging into, bet. The last day he was with me, he was lying beside me, but we’ll get to that. Oh great, now my tears have found comfort.

I would tell B III I was sorry before I even told him good morning. Then, of course, I’d follow with another apology. Sorry for waking him up, a morning with meds, then yep, sorry B, but keeping you alive…

On my off days, he would be the one waking me up for his morning walks. I was the lazy one, and he would jump around until I was ready to go. It’s a toss-up to eat or walk. There were, of course, those nights when I was writing, thinking, “I’m Gonna Be Somebody.” I already was Lady Sophia. I am B III’s Daddy, but those were late bedtimes. If I had done something, it would have been worth it, but here’s a question. Where am I this gray morning?

Like Friday, January 29, 2021, I’m sitting in bed reviewing a story, only it happens to be Braxton’s now. Gospel 212 On The “Will” Succubus… what the fuck, ignorance, insanity. At the same time, I was petting Braxton, telling him I was sorry he felt sick. I called Braxton’s vet after four hard days at the Day Job, never once thinking about THE END. Lying in his own bed that Sunday as I held him, seeing his little brown eyes fight for life. I’m sorry, it’s okay, you can rest, the words flowed from me. I wish I had told him, Sleepytime, Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams. But, I do now, knowing that as the alarm rings, I’ll walk downstairs saying Good Morning B, Sorry.

131 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 343 ~Forgetting A B 101~

“Remember me,” and I failed to as I walked into Braxton’s room and saw seven treats when there should have been eight. As much as I’d like to think he came and got it yesterday, I was discombobulated, destroyed, but not depressed. Forgetting A B 101.

Wednesday, June 9, 2021

Gospel 343 ~Forgetting A B 101~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so like Jeff Bezos, Warren Buffet, and Beyoncé with Jay-Z, I’m prone to forget some things?

What I forgot yesterday… my son. No, let’s start off with something small, ha or big, Yabbos. When’s the last time I mentioned those, and it makes me sick. Did I tell you I broke my vow? Now here I’m sitting trying to remember how I forgot about MILF Dos. It didn’t take the world long to move from Lady Dimitrescu to Sam from Samsung. Why not throw Lily from AT&T and Cortana from the Halo franchise into the mix? I swear the Internet hates me right now. It’s never deeper than I hate myself for these last couple of weeks. Nature is healing. Yesterday was a hard-ass day for me, and seeing as how I got a late start this morning, not peeking Yabbos.

No, B is not for boobs, balls, or bitches man, thank you, Warm Bodies. B still stands for Braxton, but what about his boy, the man, the father. What about the quitter? I always can. That’s something I was thinking about while not producing content for “Stuff And Thangs.” Nobody would know in a day, but maybe I should stick to writing. It goes on. Okay, that’s a lie, but it will come in July. By that point, I’ll only be writing about B III. Everything that little ball of fluff meant to me. Only haven’t I forgot publishing GULP. Speaking of books, I’ve started reading Jegudiel by Tillie Cole. It’s as if Fate is saying, “Boy, you’re depressed.” Power outage and book on insanity

“Y’all look at me and say, boy, you’ve been blessed
But y’all don’t see the inside of my unhappiness.”

B is for Braxton and what’s insane is that I could forget anything about him. Yet this morning I didn’t know what I was going to write about and then I noticed something. In his room, there were seven treats but today is the ninth, so yesterday, what the fuck? Inspector Echo, I didn’t greet him. That’s how long it took, one-hundred and twenty-eight days. I don’t have to wonder what drove me from the bed this morning, fucking guilt. I’ll have to remember to apologize to him tomorrow. Um, good luck with that, hmm? I may have lost myself for a while but never Braxton, B III, my buddy, brother, badass son. Winston had rats; my fear is losing Braxton. Forgetting A B 101

129 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 341 ~The Walking Dead, Living Sit~

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

Monday, June 7, 2021

Gospel 341 ~The Walking Dead, Living Sit~

Hundred And Ninety-First Rule

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

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

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

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

127 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 339 ~It’s Not B Con~

Convict, Con Man, “Comic-Con,” okay, I’ve only been a bit of a cheat. I went to Juvenile hall once, and why I’ve wanted to go to Comic-Con. There’s plenty I want to see. My son, alive again. I can never forget him. Only, “It’s Not B Con” lately.

Saturday, June 5, 2021

Gospel 339 ~It’s Not B Con~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I ask myself, what am I doing wrong? I’m not jailed, cheating, hosting a panel.

No, my Lazy Ass, Lady Lu. Like today I said I was going to write out my dreams. There was the one where I was playing hockey, all D2: The Mighty Ducks. I’m pretty offended. In one more vision, I had a stalker and not the pretty Autumn Reeser as Taylor Townsend. He was a white man, and nobody heard me until I found his shoes in a plastic case. Last night I dreamed I was at work, and I got into trouble for “Stuff And Thangs.” I saw this sheet with marks by shoes, and the girl said I’d done well but with what I saw on the clock. It took me a minute, but feet were the overlying factor. I’m not that freaky.

If I had to guess, I would say first my feet are cold. Everything comes back to Braxton, and he would lie on my feet. His pillow was always below them, and without Braxton, Luna. The second I think, has to do with what I’m doing now. It’s like I want to be seen, but at the same time, I ain’t going nowhere like a display. Without Braxton, who’s watching? Lastly, the Day Job dream. I should have known better since the girl ragging me hasn’t worked there in years. Hell Lady Lu, I want to leave; B wanted that too. So I stay okay? Again I’m not explaining this to some Federal prosecutor, disappointed Friends. Or adoring Fan base. Even B III left me.

I mean, didn’t I ask him to? Only I remain stuck right here, Lady Lu. One more reason for the ice. When I went to honor B today, I didn’t even put on socks. I think of the 9th Circle. For some reason, I was scared to escape the stalker. As I said, I found shoes, but I needed to get dressed, and I wouldn’t look in the closet. Escape naked… the shoes wouldn’t move. If I did get away from the Day Job, I wouldn’t have anything. The shoes were right or wrong, but not one pair fit me, and so this week I’ve been busy. Prose, Posing, Prayer. Leaving my lips, “Oh God!” Because I’m staying here. The world It’s Not B Con.

125 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 338 ~B The Dream Within~

I’d sing to B plenty but a lullaby before “sleepytime.” He was always busy guarding the house, protecting me in my laziness, or stuffing his face. Sleepytime was the only time we dreamt together. Then one Wednesday afternoon… B The Dream Within.

Friday, June 4, 2021

Gospel 338 ~B The Dream Within~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But instead of dreaming about those billions, new books, or my boy, last night was terrible.

Might I write out some of my dreams tomorrow? Today, of course, being Day 124 is all about Braxton’s dreams. If my pictures are any indication, I watched B III sleep a lot. It’s the least I could do as he did the same for me when I would come from the Day Job. No wonder I’m so exhausted. Besides, you know, manual labor. I don’t have anyone watching my back anymore, so I have to be on guard. When I was awake, it was my turn; no words necessary, yet I still ask the question. What are you dreaming, Little B? Vittles mostly? Lady Sophia, you don’t know how badly I want to believe that. He had his good dreams but also some nightmares.

As I said before, I could tell you about my nightmare. Usually, I only sleep that of the dead. Hell, at least Braxton and I could be together, other dreams I’ve written down before. Having escaped work yesterday, I wish I would have slept more. To see B on duty, I’ll always miss him on his perch. There were the days he would lie out in the sun as I worked downstairs. I continue to carry his pillow and place it under the table. Yet today, I’m working on the couch, partly because my shoulder hurts and after my betrayal. Now I used to think B III was pretty annoying when he woke me up, but you know what? If anything, he stopped my nightmares.

Most of them appear in the daylight now. The first is always a world without my son. There is no waking up from this but only a feeling against my ankles; an imagined bark echoed. You know when everybody wants me to shut up, there’s this one like yesterday that asks. So where’s that little puppy of yours? Braxton passed away; beats I’m a murderer. Cause what am I now? I can’t say I’m a monk anymore after 161 Days. Once again, my attempt at asexuality started before Braxton’s death. I don’t deserve to feel good, and even after the moment it happened, “Stuff And Thangs.” There was my shame. I hope Braxton was resting and not watching his Dad fall. B The Dream Within

124 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 336 ~How Many Barks Braxton~

Braxton spoke like a man, anytime, anyplace, and wasn’t afraid to let his voice be known even if it meant locking him behind a gate for a bit. His bark was worse than his bite, but he’ll always be my little boy. How Many Barks Braxton.

Wednesday, June 2, 2021

Gospel 336 ~How Many Barks Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford this morning’s shenanigans. We know the truth, Inspector, so I’m sorry.

Time is never on my side, along with my new interest in “Stuff And Thangs.” That’s where I was this morning, and at the very least, I’m still a monk and alone. Both are killing me. Geez, I wouldn’t have gotten down and dirty if Braxton was watching or punished. Inspector, my continuing existence in a universe without him. Hell, would I call it my punishment? Yesterday marked the start of the 5th month he’s been gone. I’ve been missing a few days, Memorial Day, the 100th Anniversary of Tulsa. Even at the Day Job. Yeah, I’ve been lectured before there, but this time it was about a Hawaiian King. King Kamehameha gets his day on the 11th. If only that was the “strangest” thing.

I should take a cue from B III and find my voice. Only there are so many reasons I need to shut up. So back at the Day Job, one of my fucking bosses called me Ma’am over the radio. On the one hand, I didn’t hear him exactly. On the other, I should’ve unleashed Hell. Speaking of Hell and fucking, I indeed like my voice. It’s hard doing what I’m doing and wanting to maintain my monk-like status. Now, of course, you’re telling me I could always quit, but I don’t want to. However, I want to maintain my promise, vow, call it insanity. Which do you think is the bigger sin, to remain silent or let it all go? Didn’t listen to Braxton

Yesterday I mean, I didn’t play B’s playlist because I needed new ideas for my project. Don’t get me wrong, I cried, but nobody wants to see that on film. Not from my eyes, ha. If Braxton was here, I would have gotten up on time. He wanted better for me or more treats. Sometimes he tried to make an ass of himself, but whatever he did beats my life. I should see if I have any videos of him barking. What type of dog owner doesn’t have that? If Braxton could speak to me now, I wonder what would he say today, Inspector Echo. I told M Anime I didn’t know many languages other than English. I’m fluent in Braxton. How Many Barks Braxton.

122 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 334 ~Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven~

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

Monday, May 31, 2021

Gospel 334 ~Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven~

Hundred And Ninetieth Rule

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

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

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

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

Knowing Hell You Fear Heaven

120 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 332 ~When B Moved On~

B III was on the eternal quest of comfy spots. I know mine; I was comforted Braxton around. He could be waiting for me, not that he was one to rush me. I’m sure he’s getting his morning or after-work walks. What am I working on because When B Move On

Saturday, May 29, 2021

Gospel 332 ~When B Moved On~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but with all the dollars and the maid, I hope she misses Braxton’s last few hairs.

That’s why I haven’t hired a new maid yet, and I stick to cleaning the bathroom. Sure Braxton’s dog gate still sits at the door. Well, nine out of ten, he hated going in there. I mean, baths, my bellowing “stuff and thangs,” and fewer soft places for Braxton’s behind. When that behind stayed still in bed for a day or so, I knew something was wrong with him. Here we are 118 Days past, and I still can’t believe it. I also didn’t mean to sound so Depressed (oh no) today. Like my Anger, this has nothing to do with Braxton. Just a sec… Braxton isn’t haunting me like the dude was his wife in “What Dreams May Come.” I wouldn’t mind if B did that, my ghost dog.

Hell, part of the reason I became a “monk” is this. Wherever B III is, he can see everything. He loves me regardless of what I do, but still, I kept things from him sometimes. Which brings in my… depression, rejection, no not really. If I’m being honest, like my writing, I’m having a good time with my “Stuff And Thangs,” better known as OnlyFans. I’ve said before I have no qualms about my body… okay, my teeth; how I love masks. I like how I move and how I feel. Only at the moment, I haven’t… crossed the finish line. It’s like I’m Rhett from Lust by Ker Dukey. He lost his brother, and I failed my son Braxton. To show my face ever.

People want me to move on, move over, move a smidge so they can have what they want. I’ve spent my life being in the way, and that’s why I’m always trying to move. Yeah, like moving books off shelves, my body in this way or that to look right, my brain, I have one?
I say my heart is broken, but it continues to beat, doesn’t it, so it’s moving. My ears don’t move, but when I hear myself moaning, my hands do. It’s been a mighty long time. Braxton’s things, though? I did pick up his toys for a picture, and as always, I fill his water, move his gates, his bed, everything. I’m stuck; I want to be. When B Moved On.

118 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 329 ~To Understand Braxton’s Writes~

How often did I write about Braxton before? It’s still such a shame it took his passing for me to put his name on the page. Still, he was a minority, Chihuahua, an only child, and he loved me even in stories. To Understand Braxton’s Writes.

Wednesday, May 26, 2021

Gospel 329 ~To Understand Braxton’s Writes~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and like any other American, I have the right to remain silent. I won’t, though, nope.

If I had my way, to fulfill a “promise” I made to Madam Justice. I would much rather talk about Copious Cleavage, Titanic Ta-tas, Supersized Slobber Knockers. Indeed my shame. So if it’s not going to be about “stuff and thangs.” If you don’t understand by now, my euphemism for sex. I wish I could forget about my rage and wrath at the Day Job. Inspector Echo, that’s a lie because the only person I hate more than the ASM and my father at this point is myself. For the high crime, I won’t shut up about. I killed my son. It’s been 115 days. Braxton still appears, if not the main subject of my blogging, journaling, confessing. Pray tell, is this Exhibit A?

Did I tell you I killed Braxton twice? My first offering writing with Camp NaNoWriMo in April was to end Bastian “Barks” Bennett. Bastian was the adopted Mexican child of the main protagonist. Antagonist… Father Win William Bridgman. Novels mourn freely. While on the subject of Camp NaNoWriMo, I believe the next one is in July. I intend to write about the real Braxton Barks Bradford but is it out of love or laziness? I want to put the letters I’ve been writing to him in it, but that means so much of the work’s complete. Not only do I feel like a cheater but to exploit Braxton in such a way. My tragedy, my woe, “Is It A Crime” Inspector. One more for the list.

As you know, it’s sort of hard to be into “stuff and thangs” when all I do is mourn B III. I signed up again for “stuff and thangs,” what was it Friday, and they rejected me. It’s still Saturday, and you’re the fourth girl I’ve talked to. Yes, this week sucks… is it worse? Inspector, I should have spoken to Braxton more, even if it meant writing less. What was it? Four years ago I started writing about, you know who. And every day since it’s been these words, these words, these words Echo. They have power, and fuck what I wanted to do, I want them to bring Braxton back… they never do. Keeping love alive, rather than hate. To Understand Braxton’s Writes

115 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will