Gospel 313 ~I Will Not Die Today~

Well, I’m definitely not dead yet but considering what awaits me today? If I knew Braxton would forgive me if he forgave me after the last day of his life? No day can be just another day, but what to do with this one. “I Will Not Die Today”

Monday, May 10, 2021

Gospel 313 ~I Will Not Die Today~

Hundred And Eighty-Seventh Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I wouldn’t be if I had found death much earlier, hmm.

This all will sound like a broken record Madam Justice. The idea that death was scared of me. Or how I read about cowards meeting death, but the brave meet it but once. With Braxton’s passing and the fact that I killed him, I believe it should have been me first. Back in B.B. (Before B), I was someone like the “Man” from The Road (2009). I should be ashamed that B III has become somewhat a daily ritual, but he beats suicide. No worries, Madam, if I did take suicide “seriously,” B would never forgive me. I know that much. Madam Justice, to take such a step, I’d always blame people. As the song goes, “I’m no prophet or messiah,” looking towards the future…

I’m time traveling even further now. From May 2, 2021, to May 10, 2021. Has life gotten so bad that I need even more time to sleep? Who knows, but I’ve had some horrific ones. I’m a multiple suicide attempter… is that such a thing? Please don’t make me out to be Bill Dauterive from King of the Hill. Maybe I need something wrong to fail at to be good. Now my usual methods have been overdose, starvation, and dehydration. I didn’t eat or drink for a whole week, which landed me in the hospital. One lousy night some years back, Madam. I lost B once because I hadn’t eaten in 3 days, and I confessed to National Suicide Prevention. Braxton saved my life, Justice.

To think I failed him once because, after my hospital stay, my “father” told me B III had dirty drinking water, I was so out of it. Suicide wasn’t my shame but failing little Braxton. After the cops came because of my busy fingers chatting, my Olds cut me off. And I had to leave Braxton because I didn’t have a place I could bring him to. After that fuck-up… As I always told him, “I’ll be back.” I wasn’t allowed to die because he needed me. I AM a father. Braxton IS my son. Another reason I want Captain America’s shield, if you get killed, walk it off. The Day Job kills me, and without Braxton here and with all the hate I feel…

I Will Not Die Today

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 311 ~What’s A Mom, B~

Well, it’s Mother’s Day tomorrow. My Ma still has her two and two grandchildren… my sister’s been busy. She’s down one furry grandson as I wasn’t the best father, yet here I am asking. What’s A Mom, B

Saturday, May 8, 2021

Gospel 311 ~What’s A Mom, B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but my Boy, my Braxton, he was an absolute genius. Are you serious? What’s a mom?

If this week hadn’t been absolute shit, I would have spent it answering that question. Mother’s Day is tomorrow; I have no semblance of a plan. Truth be told, I’ve been more focused on 100 days without my son, but yeah, the focus should be on moms; I know that. Again if I knew better, my conversation with Madam Justice would be all about Mom. Should I rewrite it? No, I’m lazy, which explains why I’m writing this so late, 6:00 AM. What my house is freezing and without B…

Well, I haven’t been hugged in what, 97 days? Of course, I could go and cut off the air, figure out a proper temperature. Hell, there is so much to do around here but hugging? Don’t worry, Lady Lu, I’m not going to get all Cotton Hill or even Hank talking about “women’s work.” Anybody can listen, right? I’ve been wondering does my Mom listen? Before I forget, a nice Christian girl reminded me that a Mom gives life. That above should trump everything, but what did I give Braxton. To be honest, Braxton’s dead.

I can’t stop saying that, you know, or to be more specific, I killed him.

That’s what you get when the fucking ASM takes away your peace at the Day Job. To be fair, I would only end up listening to “You Were Loved” by Whitney Houston. B III is loved, always and forever. Now stick with me here, but I’m about to compare Whitney to JFK so forgive me?

When somebody cares that you’re alive
When somebody trusts you with their life
That’s when you’ll know (huh)
That you have all you need ~ You Were Loved, Whitney Houston

“Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country,” John F. Kennedy

So back to my first question, what is a Mom? Braxton would know better having two, a grandmother and aunt.

“Mother is God in the eyes of a child.” Rose Da Silva – Silent Hill

“All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke.” The Road (2009)

Is it “creepy” if I use the concepts of “Faith, Hope, and Love,” and I’m not getting married. Both my mother and son had those things. That goes without saying. I actually looked up the difference between Faith and Hope. And besides being good names for daughters. I’m still sticking with Katniss, Tris, and Ember, “Girls On Fire.” I’d like to believe my Ma still holds out hope for me. As for Love, well, THEY say God is Love, and you read Silent Hill’s words.

A question I don’t understand, but I promised B another Mom? What’s A Mom, B?

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

To think that the moment of Braxton’s passing, “home” was the last place that I wanted to be. THEY say that home is where the heart is but with him being gone… It’s at least where I can say “whatever,” in peace. Will Of The B-Cells, no cure or escape

Friday, May 7, 2021

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, only I wish I could have bought Braxton that big house I promised. A yard, family…

I don’t know if you would consider Braxton lucky or like some military kid. Why does love always feel like a battlefield, as the song goes? Whether it be the two “homes” we had with my Olds and then this place, they did pay for; truth. My family’s home Sophia… Whatever do I call it now? Fuck you, ASM. My apologies Lady Sophia but whenever I say “whatever,” I’m set off by the ASM, and I won’t have him tell me how to speak again ever. Not that I’m doing much talking because I can’t even pretend that Braxton is listening anymore. Dammit, I should be ashamed of what I’ve let happen to B III’s home. I had an ant invasion; the backyard is wild. There is such filth everywhere.

Should I burst out with my best rendition of Michael Jackson’s Earth Song? Again I am sorry, Lady Sophia. I want to tell “Happy” stories of Braxton and me, but my hate has tainted everything. I would hold Braxton at night, and he was keeping my heart inside me, yeah. Now my heart died in a cage, and this broken man is all that remains. He didn’t look at this place as a Hell, a prison, or a trap. In these walls, he was safe with his Daddy despite everything. What is this? The third time I’m crying today because of those little eyes, hmm. The look that says, “Daddy can we go home?” It’s what he wanted, I keep telling myself, now smaller boxes.

There’s my urn pendant, the box that remains on my nightstand. The frame that shows our lives together. Please let Braxton be running along the Rainbow Bridge. My Braxton could be guarding the gates of Heaven or Hell. How about Braxton finding the eternal comfy spot. All it took was something inside him, killing him for five days, causing his chronic renal failure. I know it takes longer than that, but then there was the hatred that surrounded me. Love B shed and shared like so many hairs, Braxton saying, I will try to fix you. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t visit me. He can’t stand to see his Daddy like this, and I don’t blame him. This was his home, Will Of The B-Cells.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 306 ~Trade But Don’t Betray Yourself~

The day after my son died, I traded a day of mourning for a morning at the Day Job. I gave up music to hear curses I’d level at a meathead jock asshole of an ASM. SIGH, I break “Rule 186” every day at the Day Job. Trade But Don’t Betray Yourself

Monday, May 3, 2021

Gospel 306 ~Trade But Don’t Betray Yourself~

Hundred And Eighty-Sixth Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but would it be worth being a sell-out for this or that.

Not for Braxton’s life. I keep telling myself, I’m not moving into BARGAINING as of yet. People are too STUPID!!! My ANGER still rules but isn’t that one more way I have broken this rule. Take, for example, my Empathy for Apathy. No, worse, all I had left was ANGER. It’s the reason I hate the ASM and the Day Job so much. THEY remind me of killing my son by giving me the same weapon I did it with. I raged at them and, in turn, killed my boy, trying not to feel anything. When my tears threatened to wash away the blood… dammit. A meathead jock of an ASM had to fuck it all up for me. Now yes, Madam, I deserve Hell.

So with that being the case, I trade Hell for what, PRIDE? I won’t be leaving with that, I know. Um, listen to me, like I’ve been fired now. Yes, I’m back in the time machine because it’s Saturday, May 1. Last week was Hell, and this one isn’t shaping up at all. Friday, I felt a bit like Andy Dufresne in Shawshank, giving a bit of myself for my friend’s happiness. That’s a good way of putting it, Madam Justice. Andy Dufresne helped the other prisoners because he wanted to feel normal again. Indiana’s time has been shattering. If I were a God-fearing man, I would say I’m giving up silver and gold to pick up my cross. The smallest coffins are the heaviest.

How dare I right? Not only for saying that, but B III had a nice long life, but ask anyone with a furbaby. They will always be our children, and I let a fucking job try and destroy me. Braxton’s death has done that sure enough. Now all I have is that fucking Day Job. The Manager told me about my loyalty, and I would be willing to trade a decade of it for twenty days of hatred. It’s been seventy-two days since I met that bastard and ninety-two days now, so yes, twenty. Hell, I don’t even remember the man I was a ten-years prior. Only I’d trade the man I am now to be who I should have been for Braxton. Be Better… Trade But Don’t Betray Yourself.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 304 ~Will You Just B~

I heard in a cartoon, cease becoming begin to be. I figured it was some fortune cookie wisdom, but then there’s the B I lost, my son. There’s my B minus life… that’s being generous. Ever seen my Six Impossible Things. Will You Just B, who’s that

Saturday, May 1, 2021

Gospel 304 ~Will You Just B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’ve been saying that for years. I’ve been dog-less for three months. 90 Days Lu

It’s official, B III and I have now been apart longer than ever. So I ask the question, yeah, will you just be? I don’t know who I am now. Lady Lu, I’m trying okay, like it was old times somehow yesterday, right. I dipped out of work, I dabbled in making a friend happy. Decisions, decisions, have never been my strong suit. Case and point… yes, I will never stop saying it, I killed Braxton. Trump has no idea what it means when he would say “die like a dog.” Speaking of which, I’m surprised I haven’t been fired from the Day Job yet. Talk about will you just be because those assholes think they have me all figured out. Why do zombies persist?

That’s a random question, for sure, Lady Luna. But it’s because nobody has figured them out. Sure Warm Bodies, World War Z, and I can probably name a show here or there that has an answer. My point is that they will continually return. With that, Will Bradford is dead. And you are dealing with somebody else now. Before you get all creeped out… well, not you Lady Lu but “Them,” Morgan Jones said this in Fear The Walking Dead. You know Morgan Jones is dead (Season 6×01). I won’t be what the fucking ASM wants. No way I refuse. I would settle for being the man I was with Braxton, although he was by no means a good one. Braxton would still be alive.

Should I be just like the son I lost? I eat the same meals every day, don’t I? I sleep way too much, but that’s because the man in the mirror won’t get off his lazy ass. I was way too hot. So I finally had to turn on the air conditioner. Now that means I’m cold, and now no B. I would rather cuddle B III than rest with all this hate in my heart. Can I even call it resting? Last night I didn’t eat dinner. I fell apart in the kitchen, yelling for Braxton. I came upstairs and climbed into bed and can’t tell you a thing about wrestling; I fell asleep.

Too busy becoming a sonless father. Will You Just B?

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

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

Friday, April 30, 2021

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 299 ~Every Drop Of Blood Cost~

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

Monday, April 26, 2021

Gospel 299 ~Every Drop Of Blood Cost~

Hundred And Eighty-Fifth Rule

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

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

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

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

Every Drop Of Blood Cost

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 297 ~B Free Of Knowing~

I wouldn’t give up knowing what it’s like to be a Daddy, with respect to those with two-legged children. I know who my enemies are… I can’t be in the dark about that. I know tons, but thinking hurts. Why did zombies eat brains? B Free Of Knowing

Saturday, April 24, 2021

Gospel 297 ~B Free Of Knowing~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Did I just win the lottery? I’d take them on discovering a way to reconstitute “pets.”

The word applies here, but I still hate saying it. Braxton was/is my son, my best friend, my brother, hell everything. Currently, as I’m speaking to you, Lady Lu, it’s Tuesday, April 20, 2021. Yes, I know, time-travel has its way of making it look like I don’t give Two Fux. Lady Lu, I’ll give you a quick recap, AHEM…

Fear The Walking Dead and Monday was exhausting. I did get two “valuable” hours. I didn’t get into it with the ASM. “L-I-V-I-N.” Now a truck unload is coming up this week that is still going on. My peace was shattered on day 73 of Braxton’s passing. I officially moved from Denial to Anger in “The Five Stages of Grief.” I only want to feel dead once again. Mad World

Monday helped. But if I could do day 74 over again? THEY say that you should never let anyone hold sway over your emotions as they hold power over you. Tell that to my bawled fist and a heart, broken out of love but good enough for hatred. BLM indeed. Braxton helped me survive the first year of the pandemic and without him from now on? Did you catch the news today or really any day? Again nothing would make me “happier, no “gladder” than to return to my cocoon, my crypt. A convincing denial I held to so long. At this rate, though I could be fired? Should I be thanking the ASM, or can I find my routine again? Minus the “Another Day.”

Is that what I want, to be a zombie? To choose hate because some asshole pushed me there, to stay in Denial always and forever? Right now, Braxton’s water bowl is full. I’m resting in bed. Feels better than sitting on the couch, heart pounding out of my chest, Anger. Lady Luna, you want me to talk about the future, and it ain’t looking too bright indeed. I worried about B III, I continue to do so. With a storm, I grab his “remains” and keep him close. Am I still at the Day Job, or did the meathead ASM decide to destroy what’s left? Should I do what all my motivations use to say and believe better? The best died. B Free of Knowing.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

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

Friday, April 23, 2021

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 292 ~Crowns Are Heavier Than Mask~

My heart remains broken… yep, better start with my head next. I swore when I started this nine days ago, I was actually less crazy. Now whatever peace I had in my insanity has been destroyed by rage. “Crowns Are Heavier Than Mask…” what about helmets

Monday, April 19, 2021

Gospel 292 ~Crowns Are Heavier Than Mask~

Hundred And Eighty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But where is my kingdom, my honor, most notably, where’s my prince?

In Shakespeare’s “Richard III,” a man offers a kingdom for a horse. I can’t bear to think; I need to see a man about a dog. Yes, Madam Justice, today is going to be one of those where all I say, you’ve heard before. I’ll begin with, (ahem) all I have I’d give for Braxton. How about this oldie but goodie… A Man Provides. Saying I’ll give it all up is again an unwelcome sign of Bargaining. There is also the fact that if you have nothing, why in the Hell would you have a family? Maybe B has gone to prepare a place for me with my lazy ass. I am Odysseus trying to find his way home or seeing others steal my world.

No, because Braxton was, still is my world, and again I put his loss on no one but myself. For me to speak of honor when one of the Princes of the Universe lies before me slain by my own hand. Well, on the nightstand, because of euthanasia… overly dramatic. With all my time travel (Nine Days), Madam J, can’t we get to the portion of the program where I rule. A woman, a queen to sit beside me, children, and the wealth to do as a man, a king does. Not without B III, he was a warrior, a wonder of love, a lone wanderer. How many pop culture references was that? Um, there’s Queen, Highlander, Fallout 4, I tell you, the background noise.

Because heavy the head that wears the crown or so they say, and I could give three reasons for my own. The fact that I have never ever taken responsibility. And so with B III’s passing, I crumble. The second is that I have built myself up so much. Last, that B bore so much. So becoming a monk seemed easier. How dare I, but come and take a Walk With Me. Didn’t I confess at some point last week that I haven’t had any women in the house? Well, besides Indiana Gone and Okay the Maid. I wasn’t “producing” a family. I didn’t do “stuff and thangs” with B around. Now he can always see me. Give me my mask any day, I say. Crowns Are Heavier Than Mask

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will