Tag: Pain

Gospel 280 ~Ain’t This A B~

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On Easter Sunday, everyone was celebrating the resurrection with Jesus dying for all sins. I tell you that Braxton died for my sin and bringing him back day after day. Hell, like back then, religion is hard work. Ain’t This A B, and I deserve it

Wednesday, April 7, 2021

Gospel 280 ~Ain’t This A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be a Smooth Criminal as the song goes. No, I’m damn horrible.

Is that why I’m studying crime? Inspector Echo, I’m not like some girl “No Offense” exploring all the crime shows. Although I’m beginning to understand why they do. If the world is any indication, women watch things like; SVU as the paper; hell, my history. More like what women think of me. Anyway, as has become routine, anytime I get scared, I’m doing something wrong. I only remember one thing. Braxton is dead because… Yeah, I’m guilty. I killed my best friend; I’m always waiting on my judgment Inspector. The paperwork is still sitting on the coffee table and my nightstand. My Braxton is around my neck and with his other ashes. I keep talking about a tattoo with cremation ink but of what exactly?

This morning (Saturday, April 3), as always, “Time-Travel.” Okay, besides B III and his name and possibly his picture. I was thinking of getting an EHC “Elite Hunting Club” emblem, the Bloodhound. Or I’ll only stick with Braxton’s face, but I spoke to M Anime.
We talked about the Hostel series and the idea of killing somebody in the fictional world, of course. “Hostel” is pretty brutal by my standards but then again, The Purge or a Zombie Apocalypse? With what I did to B, though, how can I conceive taking any life at all? Marking myself like that might not help my case any; when it comes to the ladies. Not that I’m looking… I’m trying not to women or getting a new dog.

As Sade sings, “Is It A Crime.” I’ll love B III always and forever, but such a love can’t be matched. Oh, “This love is killing me,” Echo, and it’s what I deserve. I deny myself the world, and I don’t want it back. But I’m not taking care of myself either. Why should I? Inspector, I continue to seek justice. Take, for example, yesterday what I got from Amazon. I’ve read authors who’ve gone off to jail, but I can’t even show you this book. If I’m not reading, I should write, but I’m falling way behind with Camp this year, you know. Lots of lives were lost, including mine, because for fifteen years I chose love and without hate… Ain’t This A B?

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 278 ~Full Pockets, Pants Fall Off~

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Keep your pants on… well, I don’t want to go to work, but if I had my dream job, I wouldn’t need them. If anything, I want to go back to bed and cuddle with Braxton, but he’s gone. Writing can be done with or without so. Full Pockets, Pants Fall Off.

Monday, April 5, 2021

Gospel 278 ~Full Pockets, Pants Fall Off~

Hundred And Eighty-Second Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but this isn’t Futurama; Easter has passed, and can’t, but me love…

I swear, Madam Justice if I had the dollars, I would spend every day in bed. Of course, I do that already, and I’m broke. You know what I mean, I’m surviving but nowhere close to alive. I’d be lying if I said that I even want to without B. No, I’m not suicidal generally. If anything, I want more time. Anger and worry take a lot, and how about Depression. That sounds like a fucking excuse; pardon my language. B III spent so much time trying to fix me. If I had those last days back from the Day Job and writing, always writing. Funny that I haven’t given it up amongst the things I’m no longer doing. It’s the monk’s life for me.

Or maybe something more akin to Mahatma Gandhi… more on him later. Now didn’t I say money can’t buy me love? Some people might refute that by answering, have you ever paid the adoption price? I don’t know how much Braxton “cost.” A man provides. If I could provide, I would have found Braxton a mom. I think we’re going to need a bigger bed. If I fell asleep, B would have had someone to dole out the treats for him. I wanted him to meet his siblings in diapers sneaking him all he could eat, till he burst, ha. One big happy family, Braxton and I, survived the first plague year together. And again, my pockets were empty. It hasn’t stopped me, buying pants.

I would instead buy more books which means buying more studies on Mahatma Gandhi. Well, not mainly, but I did learn something about practicing “Brahmacharya.” Photography has been something that fascinated me and certain kinds of art. Most days, I pull up my sweat pants, and I don’t know; I did write five-thousand words yesterday. Braxton had faith that my writing would lead somewhere. That’s why he always allowed me to do it unopposed, even to the very end. I’ve worked at the Day Job for a decade, about, and my pockets have never been fat. Only now, my heart is empty, and if I could sell my soul, or vow chastity, at least asexuality… Am I Bargaining? No, I’ll stick with Denial. Empty still, Full Pockets, Pants Fall Off.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 276 ~Boys Will Be Braxton~

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

Saturday, April 3, 2021

Gospel 276 ~Boys Will Be Braxton~

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 273 ~For Once B Write~

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This will be the first Camp NaNoWriMo that Braxton won’t be here. My writing buddy, my words were supposed to save us. Maybe if I had written to God instead. The Vet told me there was nothing to do but with a higher number. For Once B Write, I failed

Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Gospel 273 ~For Once B Write~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how am I still living on my knees, my belly, landing flat on my face?

“Please” is a word I’ve been using less sarcastically nowadays. Yeah, please, I’m not in retail; I’m a writer. It’s been more like please and thank you to people. Of course, I should be polite. It’s not only because of B III. Please, God, Doctor, anybody save my Little B. Hell, I’ll never forget how I was crawling along after him. How I was on my knees before taking him in. As the song goes, “No one laughs at God in a hospital.” I was sitting, well falling to my knees as Braxton left me alone in this world. How dare I ask for anything? Most days, I’m an atheist through and through, though I push agnosticism. Funny and sad, no human’s made me feel…

“All I know is the child is my warrant… And if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke.” –

“Person-like?” A man, a father, a writer, somebody, anybody. Again I think man evolved but not for the likes of me. No, I’m a primate, an ape, a monster, which is why most of my stories deal only with men. Okay, an android here or there and one of my characters evolving. On Twitter this morning (Saturday, March 27), I saw #SoTheLastTimeIHadSex. I still want a family Inspector Echo. That’s another thing I don’t write about. Wasn’t I working on a Christmas story at some point, “Look A Thing Like Santa?” Yeah, Braxton had a role in my tale too. Now here we are on my last day of… again, I never know anymore. Camp NaNoWriMo is about to start, and what am I going to write about or complete?

Poetry or Prose? Not a day goes by where I don’t imagine, “if only I had finished GULP,” where would B III be? I wouldn’t have been at the Day Job, that’s for damn sure. I could have paid a bit more attention. Maybe it was the water he was getting, those hotdogs, his food. I want to write a book for him since I’ve given up reading about dogs for now. While a good story, a Dog’s Purpose didn’t do me any favors when it comes to… what healing? Did I ever believe writing does that? It’s been two months now today, Braxton’s death. If I start my former series again… I’ll kill him?

Braxton’s character, which wouldn’t be right? For Once B Write

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 271 ~Know Your Sins Before Others~

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I’m an open book but there are some I don’t share. Now aren’t I always saying that Braxton’s death is the hardest thing to know. The final bill still sits, I tell everybody. When’s the last time I haven’t mentioned him. “Know Your Sins Before Others”

Monday, March 29, 2021

Gospel 271 ~Know Your Sins Before Others~

Hundred And Eighty-First Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and Braxton never knew. Oh, come on now, he had more faith.

Now before I wax on all “poetic” about B’s eyes… Aww, screw it. B III looked at me as though I alone had the power to save him. He believed, with all his might, that I would take him home that day. I am his Dad, and I couldn’t be anything else. What I became? I’m sure Amazon is wondering the same thing. Yeah, I’m still burning money like it’s going out of style. As a matter of fact, I’m gazing at some “style” right now if Amazon Prime is true to their word. Let’s just say it’s concerning “Lollipop Chainsaw” fashion sense, Madam Justice. Speaking of cash and my absurdities with it, my GREED. To think I “give-up” one sin for that of GREED.

I’m sure two redheads are laughing their way to the bank. One of them was something over a year ago. Petting Braxton, him sitting here while I read, kept me from more sinful pursuits. I wanted to be a good example but ask Indiana Gone something about that ha. I’m still reading. “Anything good?” you ask? Depends on your definition of good. Of all the things I would tell B III about, recounting my latest… Yeah, with my “retail therapy.” Is that what it’s called? Well, at least I did cancel that Patreon, and it’s not like this is new. Several subscriptions still await. Isn’t it funny that the WWE isn’t one that had me the slightest bit conflicted? “Born in LUST turn to dust.”

No, I’m not reading Stephen King. It’s not like what I am reading is putting me to sleep either. I’m tired, Madam Justice. Last week… if I survived since I am talking to you March 26. Now I’ve mentioned how much I despise the Day Job; being so rageful also depressed. Although Braxton is the cause of one of those. Not that I’m blaming him. Because around this time, January 29, I was witnessing my ultimate failure as his father. Yep, I called the Veterinarian. Last night, I was so out of it with exhaustion, but my Mom called; wakefulness. It’s the one thing that gets me moving, and out of my SLOTH, another’s pain.

Braxton’s death… I knew before the doctor’s words, “He’s Gone.” Know Your Sins Before Others

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 269 ~Braxton Spills The Beans~

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

Saturday, March 27, 2021

Gospel 269 ~Braxton Spills The Beans~

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 266 ~B III Of Numbers~

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I’ll be broke again “financially,” speaking soon enough. I’m still “broken.” It’s been seven weeks. A lost son times 7 weeks, plus $1400, divided by a week in a “different” Hell the (Day Job). B III Of Numbers, not as long as I’m still breathing

Wednesday, March 24, 2021

Gospel 266 ~B III Of Numbers~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, with an extra $1,400 to spend. I’m not ungrateful, but what happened with my last check?

Is it a sin to keep retelling the same story? For now, Inspector Echo, consider it my confession, my condemnation. Perhaps one day my coup de grâce because it kills me to repeat it. Yet I’m in Hell now, and someone said that’s what, Hell is my dear, repetition. I still hate math, but here we go. So I have $600, and $100 of that goes for B III’s annual check-up. I put $500 in savings because those fuckers at Serra Hyundai tried to get it. That was late last year. January 27, a Wednesday, I ignore Braxton. He cries that night but by morning seems okay. That evening I worry. Friday, we’re at the vet, and there goes the other $500… running his tests.

I didn’t want to spend the money; I was mad. I called my mother, and she sent an additional $150. Then there was one day, that Saturday, I would have given up everything to save him. Banfield isn’t Serra. They never asked for $500 flat-out. Then there was only $323.60 and one word, Euthanasia. After that, the money, my sweet buttery Jesus, the cash. It didn’t mean a damn thing anymore. I still have the Day Job, of course. It’s Saturday now as I’m writing this because, as I said, this week is sucking, right? So I wonder how much of my Stimulus Check is left in only, yeah, a week. You know, The Triage Method… more like the Braxton method. His wants, wishes, Will

I want to tell you I’ll spend most of it on him. If I paid it before, it wouldn’t be on frames, candles, a headstone. I’ve looked at things I can put his face on. My own “Scarlet Letter.” No, I shouldn’t say that about Braxton, but I want to get a tattoo with the ashes. Inspector Echo, does that creep you out? I’ll take that over living the life of a selfish man. Make no mistake Inspector Echo, I still am as I look for distractions. Hell, aren’t I a good American wanting to spend the Benjamins as soon as possible? Tossing cookies already? Worse yet is How To Save A Life. Mine or some furry soul… after seven weeks? B III Of Numbers.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 264 ~Find Anything That Beats Temptation~

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Once I would say I’m Tony Montana in regards to what I wanted. “The world, chico, and everything in it.” At least Tyrion Lannister. Nothing tempts me now, but those few moments I forget, Braxton is Gone. I indulge. Find Anything That Beats Temptation

Monday, March 22, 2021

Gospel 264 ~Find Anything That Beats Temptation~

Hundred And Eightieth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I shouldn’t want for anything. I want my best friend back.

Tell me, how can there be any temptation for something I can never have again? If anything, it’s madness. It’s, as the song goes, The Land of Make-Believe. Even if it lasts only a minute or five. My, Madam Justice, I did find a use for that “the world will end in five” idea, yep. Okay, so I can never again see Braxton in this life ever. There are ways to give in or up. I could let insanity overtake me, which would be poetic justice. When my grandma died, I stopped eating. I wasn’t mourning. I wanted to skip grandma’s funeral, called anxiety. So with Braxton, the second way to cave is to go with my depression, fuck the Day Job. Talk about tempting.

The thing is, much like National Suicide Prevention Lifeline… really, yeah fuck you guys. How about my “father,” who kicked me out on my behind. Thus taking me away from Braxton for two and a half months. The overall record for being apart from B. Madam Justice, what I’m trying to say is, no one would care. Well, except for the Day Job. Didn’t I talk about them calling me up about missing a shift that wasn’t on my schedule? There is no temptation for death or depression; neither brings B III back here, right? Honest to God, I’m trying to avoid Hell, well, another one. Don’t I keep saying this is Hell, being without my son? To think B III was tempted to stay.

He loves me, as someone once sang What’s Love Got To Do With It. You could tell me I could have someone in my life right now, and I would pass. That’s what hurts the most, Madam Justice, and could be a reason why I find myself like this. Not going away, is it?
No human knows everything about me, and even if they did, they would never accept it. Again I kept secrets from my son because he was just that, my son, I am his father. When you have that love Madam Justice, when you know, You Were Loved what else is there? So finding something that stops the yearning for my Braxton…

Temptations, but B III’s watching. Hope he still loves me. Find Anything That Beats Temptation

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 262 ~B Moaning Next Week~

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

Saturday, March 20, 2021

Gospel 262 ~B Moaning Next Week~

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 259 ~It’s Messy B Leaving~

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I’m not much of a neat freak. I only clean when pretty girls or hateful fathers come by. Braxton, though, if he didn’t go outside, it meant his bathroom spot needed cleaning, and with my hours, sometimes I would walk in and wow. It’s Messy B Leaving.

Wednesday, March 17, 2021

Gospel 259 ~It’s Messy B Leaving~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I still want to change my future kid’s diapers. No, Braxton’s bathroom pad, once more.

Shit, it’s been, um wow, forty-five days, while I am still very much attached to Braxton today. Inspector Echo, B III’s pad has been clean since he left me. What’re a few more smells to miss? I would indeed live in that filth than how I’ve been spending forty-five days. Disgusting, who am I to say, nature’s calling. I still haven’t checked the fridge when it comes to his food. Maybe I should donate it to a pet shelter, hmm? One, what if it was the food that took my son? Two, if I give it away, who’s to say I wouldn’t look around some. And three I saw a dog on Sunday but I didn’t want him or her. One Deer Head Chihuahua, please…

Not that many people giving them up, and what about buying one? With all the money I’m spending daily, and nothing is helping. I’ve thought again about buying more guns, but I’m trying to stay far away from the ones I do have. What’s one more sin, but then B? To you, Inspector Echo, this is as close to “Bargaining” as I’m going to get. How many sins have I renounced trying to what… talk my way into Heaven? Anything to see Braxton again because I know he isn’t coming back here. Yeah, says the man refilling a water bowl. I hid things from Braxton, I’ll admit that. What parent doesn’t? Lead me not into temptation, so I’m cleaning out my closet or stuffing it?

Nothing else to think about other than my son, warm in his bed. For a bit longer without one single breath. He was a mess, and so was I as the vet and her assistant looked on. You know how I hate to leave a mess, but by all accounts, I did that day… Braxton. Inspector Echo, my heart to this day is broken, my soul is shattered, and my mind. As the song goes, where is my mind? No longer in the trash, the gutter, the filth unless you count specific books and music. I want to continue to deny everything, to let go of anger, and Heaven isn’t too far away, is it?

Was that joke dark or messy? It’s Messy B Leaving

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will