Gospel 231 ~Braxton And P Breaks~

Braxton needs what, and I’m paying who again… Patreon or somebody else? Most of the time, I don’t bother to check my accounts. It might help, though, an exercise that everything is normal but without Braxton. Braxton And P Breaks.

Wednesday, February 17, 2021

Gospel 231 ~Braxton And P Breaks~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… putting that out there as I would, Braxton. Pretending with those aspects of my life now.

Probably should get some air, but I’ve only opened the backdoor once since January 31. Braxton is like me, we both hate the cold, but we would look at the snow. I shouldn’t have said that. Every time I remember Braxton’s eyes, his final look, I break down crying. Prayers aren’t for God, though. I haven’t spoken to God since last month again. It’s one part of my routine that’s broken. There are more tears when I forget, or there’s just no need. This will be the third week, and as I shook his medicine bottles calling “Braxton.” People will be upset or not. It could be both. It’s not like I can call the vet and order more meds. The water company should be thrilled, but not whoever the people are that make bathroom pads. Some are sick of me talking about him. My friends have their own stuff.

Piping up now only to speak to B III. I’m not sure how to stop it; I don’t want to. I’ve said it often enough, every day. “Medicine time,” Night, Night Braxton,” “Just Me Baby B,” I won’t stop myself.

My Olds would laugh at me for talking to myself but with Braxton’s deafening silence…

Postulating any idea of sanity seems out of the question. Will Smith said something to the tune of, does thinking you’re the last sane man make you crazy? Susanna Kaysen wrote, Crazy is you or me amplified. To me, everything about life feels plain wrong. Painful, a crime. It’s why I haven’t done anything, as someone would say, STUPID. My biggest fear was I wouldn’t be here for him. Now 8:00 AM, his meds and water, so I get a bite. 11:00 AM, outside and breakfast. 5:00 PM more water, 8:00 PM meds, and dinner.

Prolonging the pain as long as possible for myself. How long did Braxton suffer? Five days… he was crying Wednesday, stopped eating Thursday, and it goes on. He needed a break. A break from his pops, his father, his daddy. Now that he wouldn’t pretend. Pretending, though, that’s me since the day Braxton Slipped Away. And people talk about puppies. Progressing through grief and other problems. When I want is to believe Braxton is right outside. Braxton And P Breaks.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 229 ~Beds Are Not Substitute Graves~

Braxton would let me stay in bed, but he also knew how to get me out of it and then at the end… Hell, I would have joined him if I could’ve. Only for now, at least I’m up wanting to remember, to hold him, but Beds Are Not Substitute Graves.

Monday, February 15, 2021

Gospel 229 ~Beds Are Not Substitute Graves~

Hundred And Seventy-Five Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does Braxton want to be with me forever? Always and forever in my heart, of course. Even now, a piece of him is around my neck. What about everything that is on my nightstand? I’m sure even today (Time-Travel, it’s still Saturday, his birthday). He wouldn’t want me to spend all day in bed mourning. No, that’s what we did on my Emergence Day. A bed has plenty of purposes, but it’s not as a grave. Being in a warm bed is pretty heavenly, which explains why I’m out of mine.

I’m also sure a bed isn’t made to be a shrine; again, we return to my nightstand. It’s been two weeks now or will be, and I keep Braxton’s last collar in his bed. His favorite plaything sits on his pillow in his room. Despite losing him, as I said on “that day,” they’re staying. Braxton’s bed is not exercise equipment, no matter how heavy it is to carry. With everything I have to heave at the Day Job, nothing compares. I keep thinking the whole world could tumble down, crushing me, only B III, bedding, daddy’s breaking heart. They’re not time machines either. As I told you before, I move my son’s bed to the right spot when I leave. Hell, just now, where do you think his pillow is with his toy? Right under the table as I talk to you. I’m still waiting for Braxton to go out, standing by the door.

That’s his territory, the backyard. Indiana Gone asked me where I would scatter his remains… I’ve only cried twice today, and it’s not yet 8:30 in the morning. Madam Justice, honestly, I only opened “the box” once. Inside’s a blue cloth, farther… didn’t wish any disturbance. Well, again, other than the pendant, I’m still wearing. Do I want to keep what’s left of my son sitting there dark? A bag of his hair, a clay paw print, even the certificate of his cremation? 5.5 x 8.5, how dreadful is that wanting to keep it representing Braxton. February 4, by the way, where was I when that was happening? In bed saying that it should have been me than him, honest. Today of all days, though, I’m out of bed, not living really. Existing, Remembering, and Thinking for now at least. Beds Are Not Substitute Graves

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 227 ~To Braxton’s Sweet Sixteen~

Happy Birthday!!! Braxton Barks Bradford. I would do more for your birthday than I would my own and if I had only known… We’d share a steak on mine. I’ve been thinking about what we were going to do today? Some Dad, right? To Braxton’s Sweet Sixteen.

Saturday, February 13, 2021

Gospel 227 ~To Braxton’s Sweet Sixteen~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but can that bring Braxton back to me. Give me one more day, year; I’m greedy.

But never on my birthday and like Father like Son. Up until the end, he treated every day as a holiday. On his last day, I’m sure I’m a broken record. I remember when they first took him from me. “Daddy, can we go home?” In his eyes Dad and Son, our lives were together. Then came my second BFF. The only human Triple B could stand outside of my bloodline. I don’t recall how old he was, but she made him a cake. I believe this was when he discovered his favorite toy. Hell, the first time I saw Braxton defeated by MORE food. Well, it put me to shame. I’d get him a ton of fries, and we would chronicle another year together.

Speaking of shame, February 13. I’m sure there is a dispute to the actual day, according to my Olds. I’ve spent forever trying to forget my birthday. Would anyone bother remembering his ever? Braxton is the closest to love I’ll get, so yep, before Valentine’s Day. If I had my way, I mean, this is what I saw. Braxton, growing a little beard under his chin. His tiny tan hairs are starting to turn grey. I imagined Braxton sneaking back to me after lying with siblings. (Future human children)? He’d protect them and my missus. Not now, but years upon years later, I would hold him as I did. The kids would cry over him. MY wife would find me bawling alone at some point.

Now he would have been 16 today. As far as I’m concerned, he is until I stop, whatever it is I think I’m doing. Would I have taken another “Commemorative photograph…” and bought one large fry for him? I didn’t even buy him a Christmas present; we had the time. That’s all I have now, time. 16 years reduced to maybe 250 in pictures. My pendant has his name, telling me to be a better man. His pillow still under the table with his toy on top. Lady Luna, Braxton gave his all to me, so how best to honor the life he lived… I’ll have it, but love’s not a prize but a gift he gave me. Happy Birthday, Braxton. To Braxton’s Sweet Sixteen.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 222 ~Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets~

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~

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 215 ~Act From Desire Not Insecurity~

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~

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 208 ~Collective Madness Is Called Sanity~

Monday; Thursday at the time of this writing, and I’m still scared to death. In a way, that makes me part of the majority. How many people have sped, hit a dog, who’s been inside a cell? Three separate incidents. “Collective Madness Is Called Sanity”

Monday, January 25, 2021

Gospel 208 ~Collective Madness Is Called Sanity~

Hundred And Seventy-Second Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I must be insane. Well, indeed, I am not the only one to believe in time-travel. So I can’t give myself too much credit. Only here we are on a Thursday, and I want to talk to you right now. Yeah, it’s more like I’m scared. Is it because I agree with everyone else about a particular subject? True enough, but I might be making myself sick over nothing. Either way, the guilt… Dare I say it’s real? How do THEY say, choosing between what you feel and what’s real, right?

PARANOIA! Madam Justice has taken the place of Depression, Anxiety, and, let’s say, any “Joy-Joy Feelings.” I’m the one who looked out the window earlier because I heard voices near my door. I’m lying here relishing the concept that if it gets “real,” who’ll witness? Dammit, don’t let them hurt my Dæmon. Who and for what? That’s why it won’t go away because I won’t face it. Wasn’t it Dale Carnegie who wrote about accepting the worse outcome? Yeah, I haven’t done that exceptionally well. I can’t, Madam Justice, never. Believing such a prospect is too much. Like when I got that speeding ticket and thought I would instead kill myself than tell my Old Man. There was the time I hit that dog… instead, the dog slammed my car door (again with speeding). Oh, my time in Juvenile Detention.

Everyone agrees that getting speeding tickets is wrong. Still, who would go out shopping for sleeping pills or would turn to rob their relatives. I embraced both, of course, and now I can get proper drugs. I have other methods available. I must be insane. However, I thought I was normal when I was driving and then, bam with that dog. I was a dog killer. Mom and daughter could have found my Olds; they could have called the cops. Only the dog lived but again with the memory of what I’d done that afternoon. While I sat in the day room in the detention center after my Olds begged for my release. I won’t do that again, Madam Justice. As much as I hate my “father,” I can’t do that. Yet I agree that what I’ve done or might have is madness, everyone says.

Living this way is crazy. The Paranoia won’t go away. Collective Madness Is Called Sanity

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 206 ~Willing The Days Away~

Facebook was closed for a minute. Well, more like I got logged off, and then I found out why. Seems like many places have been closing or under scrutiny. Now here I am, open book and all being driven crazy by paranoia. Willing The Days Away, hmm

Saturday, January 23, 2021

Gospel 206 ~Willing The Days Away~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how many days have I given away to get here. As “The 13th Warrior” put it, “I have squandered my days with plans of many things.” Around this time last week, I had no idea the storm that I’d unleashed because I look at myself as a bad man, okay. I have my vices like anyone else, though one has been tempered somewhat with “events.” My usual anger, my fire has been snuffed by my depression. It’s like I’m drowning. Now that leads me to a third sin… I’m breathing.

That’s dark, and of course, you’re not Inspector Echo. I’m all into time-travel, not that it makes much difference nowadays. It’s not that I’m living in the present. The past is only full of regret and the future, to quote another movie “John Q” well “There’s only two ways out of here. Jail or dead.” Not the most appealing options, I must say Lady Luna. What are the chances, though, and in keeping with the movies “The Empire Strikes Back,” there’s this? “Never tell me the odds.” I would say I’m getting lazier… breathing’s difficult. Damn, it feels closer to impossible. You want to hear something really STUPID? It could all be for nothing. Every day I read up on other criminals, and I think about “All These Things That I’ve Done.” I opened my eyes, that’s it. My Lady, I opened my fucking eyes.

“Oh god, I’d rather you were blind” that’s from A Knight’s Tale or maybe my Dæmon. Okay, that’s mean, he would never wish me harm. Yet I’m hurting him by wishing it upon myself now. Living each day hoping that I will actually scare myself to death and find peace. It almost worked last night when Facebook was all wonky. Only this morning, I found out Facebook itself had been hacked and flooded with…I wish I could go back to free speech and all. In some ways, I believed it would be a closed fist that would be my end. Nope, I opened my eyes, and where did that land me? What am I doing every morning? I say I’m an open book with a mind to match, and what do I find waiting. My hands are, you guessed it, wide open, and then what?

I’m still free for now, only Willing The Days Away.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 201 ~Legs, Breasts, There’s Always Chicken~

I said love hurts, and yeah, lust does as well, but it’s pretty fun too. Though, I’m not having any. In fact, I’m scared to death. Some people live to eat; others eat to live. I only write, and what else is there? Legs Breasts, There’s Always Chicken

Monday, January 18, 2021

Gospel 201 ~Legs, Breasts, There’s Always Chicken~

Hundred And Seventy-First Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so oh god, OH GOD, what have I done!!! Why did I not take this rule to heart? It was inspired by my son, my Dæmon. I should turn to Dale Carnegie’s How to Stop Worrying and Start Living. When’s the last time I felt so bad? Well, in “modern history?” I would say when I read something from the “Basic Bitch.” Before that getting called into the office at the Day Job. There was that time in junior college. What about my stint in juvenile hall? Trumptards are scared and running.

Not that I’m one of them. Hell, at times, I’m um worse, and I can’t even tell you how horrible. If anything, I’m hoping that I’m here with you to read this in a week. For the moment, I’m time traveling. You know what I said wakes me up every morning, but Fear, yeah, works. Now, as I state in rule #15, “I Take My Own Lumps.” It means I take the hit I don’t make excuses. If I’m guilty, so I am. The thing is, I don’t even know if I am. There’s a difference between thinking and actions, and no, I’m not trying to be all motivational now.

Okay, usually I save confessions for Inspector Echo, but she waits till Wednesday. How about other cops? Well, I’m a thief, for starters. You know all those artists I have yet to pay and the ones I have paid? Well, I found a place where I did a bit of an art heist, not all. Oh, you know I’ve been stealing pictures and videos ever since I discovered, um, the (H-Word). I blame Tenchi Muyo, but I gave my Olds computer a virus many years ago. Yeah, I couldn’t hide that, but I have lied about being a better man. Doesn’t that affect only me, hmm? Today, no, not with my Dæmon. I swore to always be here for him. It’s him and me until the end. It wouldn’t be a crime to leave him but committing one leaves me no choice for sure, Justice.

He likes eating, and I like… well as the song goes, I hear you singing, “I know what boys like I know what guys want.” Much ado about nothing, hopefully.

For release Madam Justice, I stumbled down the rabbit hole… Legs, Breasts, There’s Always Chicken.

I Will Have No Fear