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

Gospel 290 ~Orange You Glad Braxton~

Day 76, it’s been hot, not that I’ve been outside, you know, mowing the lawn or taking a walk like B III and I would do. It’s been hot tears, rage, both from work. I have a new villain for my story. I’m trying to find peace. “Orange You Glad Braxton”

Saturday, April 17, 2021

Gospel 290 ~Orange You Glad Braxton~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I better be, as the school bully will be taking my lunch money. Fucking ASM.

Pardon my language My Lady but as the song goes, “Work sucks, I know.” Why we’re talking music? How about this one? “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus. But he talks like a gentleman.” He’s more like John Seed from Far Cry 5, and I’ll die before saying YES. Without fail, I will always take responsibility for Braxton’s death; that is my failure and disgrace. But it is men like at the Day Job that brought about my rage at people and apathy towards B III. It is people like that asshole that make me believe in “Karens.” Dammit, I chose to fall upon my knees for the Day job only to stay there trying to save my son. Have I become a Nihilist?

Eric Thomas said something to the tune of; before you blow up, life will strip you to the core. I lost Braxton, and as I said, I will not kowtow to the new assistant manager, so there goes my job. Now that would leave me with nothing, and am I afraid? Losing B stole fear? I’m sitting there crying over my boy in the office. My hot tears were coursing down my face, while at the same time my blood is burning, call it fire, poison, Hell. I wish I could leave shame out of the mix, but again B has that beat. My walk of shame after his passing. Standing at the car, I was Winston Smith “1984” the moment they killed him there.

You know how THEY say God is spelled backward. I believe in B; I mean, look at it as so. I talk to him, but no one else can see. I call upon him for strength. I believe he took the fall for my sins; I am his prophet. His name is upon my heart and flesh or sometime soon. Like I was telling Indiana Gone, I want to get a tattoo of Braxton’s face underneath my forearm. Starting at the top of his head will be his nickname there.

B III
To the left: JSS (Just Survive Somehow)
To the right: EHC (Elite Hunting Club)
At the bottom: Braxton and the date he left

Below all of that will be Captain America’s shield. I think of the song Left Hand Free from Captain America: Civil War. The shield was a purpose, responsibility, duty, honor, a burden but a privilege, a love. Captain America gave it back, and still, he tried to do what’s true. I could go on, but we will be here all day, sigh. Yeah, right, I can do this all day but then again and not to make “light” of this, but I think of that monk who burned himself alive. Let’s stick with fiction in that of Saint Hakushin from Inuyasha, who became a Living Buddha. Miroku also had his “weapon,” the “Wind Tunnel,” in his right hand but held by his left. I haven’t touched my “weapon” or any of them, except my knife in weeks. Why all this holy man talk? It’s the only way I may ever see Braxton ever again. Heaven…

It beats talking about why I want the EHC lettering and Braxton’s face. In the Hostel movie franchise, they use the Bloodhound to represent their members… killers. But I want B III’s face. Let my flesh burn so I may never forget my crime or the warmth and love of Braxton. Orange You Glad Braxton.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 289 ~B Gets The Girl~

“Tale As Old As Time Song As Old As Rhyme…” maybe not; it’s only been seventy-five days. I lost the “young” prince Braxton. I’d give the kingdom to have him back. Now I’m screaming at a lady yesterday for invading my space. B Gets The Girl.

Friday, April 16, 2021

Gospel 289 ~B Gets The Girl~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but instead of wanting to be the Prince, I’ll listen to B and be the Beast.

Now make no mistake, Braxton was a prince. Humans to dogs are owners, masters, kings, even gods but also best friends. With all the regrets of how I was nowhere near the best daddy to him. I am saddened by the fact that Braxton never made any doggy friends ever. Her name was Greta. I can’t remember what kind of dog she was, only that she and B were about the same height. We met her when we lived with my Olds (B III’s grandparents). I’d take him around the block, um, when it was “safer” being a black man.
Sorry, I don’t mean to get awfully political today. Anyway, so Greta would come up to say hello, and what do you think he did?

Braxton might not have been one with the furry chicks but my type of girls. I shouldn’t say that either; otherwise, she and I would have been together. For now, she remains my second BFF. I often said that the first girl that wins B’s heart I’d marry. Sorry, Braxton. Her name is Indiana Gone (not a fact, you know). While I was busy getting all handsy with the maid, B could not keep his paws off Indiana Gone. I’m sure I’ve told this story before how he hated her guts at first but like father like son. B Squared was one for her Yabbos. So here I am explaining to my son that he has to be a gentleman. Nope, he was a beast.

Only I would not let him, as Trevor Philips put it, “rut like beasts.” I swear, sometimes I felt like a pimp, people bugging us, wanting to buy him, and talking about breeding. The lowest offer for Braxton was $500.00, the highest $900. I should have gotten him a sister. Do you want to hear a confession? I’ve never got some “cuddy” in this house; my hand to God truth. We’re talking well… years. Now B Squared for all his barking, chasing, and then running from girls. Triple B was a virgin, and I didn’t have the heart to neuter. I’m continuing to line up regrets, no playmates, taking better care, and he never got to meet my new family.

Heaven… B Gets The Girl

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 285 ~I Won’t Be Anyone’s Bargain~

I never told B III about Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, Paradise, at least not until the very end because I always thought I would be better. I’d give him a bigger yard, a mom, siblings to pet him, but who am I? I Won’t Be Anyone’s Bargain, anymore

Monday, April 12, 2021

Gospel 285 ~I Won’t Be Anyone’s Bargain~

Hundred And Eighty-Third Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and pretty Hoity-Toity, to say the least. It helps Braxton’s not picky.

As it comes to what my grandma used to say about my pride, I go back and forth. As the song goes, “To hell with my pride,” or take a cue from Marsellus Wallace. “Fuck pride. Pride only hurts. It never helps.” Ok, so I want to live in another world, “Far Cry 5” hmm. This is going to sound very familiar. I keep thinking it was my wrath that killed Braxton. It was aimed at other people, never at him, and in so doing, I ignored him. Again I turn to my pride, or maybe it was his. I told Indiana Gone that he wanted better. Meat, not cheese. I started buying hot dogs, B III got classier food, his medications were a must.

The thing is, Madam Justice and I won’t stop saying it. My Son Deserved A Better Daddy. I let people diminish me, and in so doing, I diminished him, and my apathy for us both led to his death. My life is their fucking bargain and B’s love which is a gift I simply left. Here come pride again, that I was such a despicable human being that I alone killed him. I could play God or the Devil in his eyes. Because how does everyone else look at me. I’m so sick of being nothing, and then I look at the empty bed and full dishes. I have nothing. What I refuse is to have anyone look at Braxton as people look at me.

I have been looking too, ten weeks now at everything. Braxton’s more expensive food, but what if I had stuck to the cheap stuff? What if I bought that water filter for the fridge? 99% of doctors were excellent. What if I asked them to heal Braxton; paperwork’s still here. Yes, I know he’s dead, but they could have been running more tests. I could have been brushing his teeth, better grooming, buying him doggy steps. More walks in the sunshine, A Million Little Things before he made the Rainbow Connection. Last pop-culture reference, swear. I want to tell him, Madam Justice, that I am trying. I fail, but I won’t stop; 5000 words yesterday. If people, if God wants me, don’t look for bargains. I Won’t Be Anyone’s Bargain.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 283 ~What If Braxton Did~

I swear I heard him in a rush down the stairs. Every time I get an email about a lost pet, I check it. Not helping but thinking I’ll see Braxton’s face. It’s been sixty-nine days, and I still hear him ask why instead of goodbye. “What If Braxton Did”

Saturday, April 10, 2021

Gospel 283 ~What If Braxton Did~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or so it feels that way. With quick deliveries, people know my name, but for Braxton.

What if Braxton did come running down the stairs again? It’s been about ten weeks to the day, sixty-nine to be exact. Cue the South Park “Nice,” which is how I felt with my recent book. Anyway, if Braxton did appear at “medicine time,” if this was always a nightmare? What if B III’s water dish was empty, or I found a mess in his spot at some point? I should start investing in ghost hunting guides. And you’re asking yourself what brought on my “1408” query? Yesterday, I was shaking the pill bottles as standard, calling B once again. What if Triple B was curled up in his bed, only waiting for me to ferry him off to mine? Now I sound like Charon.

If Braxton did tell me, it was okay to let him go? That’s never going to happen, Lady Lu, with my commitment to DENIAL. I said at one point that ANGER was overtaking me and, as far as BARGAINING, to lose myself. There are decent people, and who am I? If B III did tell me that I was forgiven for what happened to him. Well, I know I don’t want that. I still believe that the worst crime anyone can ever commit is taking another’s soul. I took Braxton’s life, not his will to live; I’m not my “father.” B fought for every second. If Triple B did tell me he was thankful for his life, he loved me, and goodbye instead of why?

When I do see Braxton again, at this rate, I’ll be in an insane asylum for sure. Here I am, and I can still feel him all around my feet. If I forget some nearly sixteen-year habit, I burst into tears. Every time I see a missing pet report, I have to check to see if it’s B, the Hell. When I do see B III again, maybe Cerberus is that lonely. As if Braxton went to Hell, but he would follow me as I would follow him. “We can be all poetic and just lose our minds together,” The Last of Us (Left Behind).

When I do see Triple B again, I want him to be proud of me somehow. What If Braxton Did.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 282 ~Try And B Professional~

I said I didn’t want to tell a sad story. I hate my Day Job, but here I am to talk about B’s work experience. Hell, he took the one job that no other American wanted… when he loved me. 365 and 24/7, my Chihuahua would Try And B Professional

Friday, April 9, 2021

Gospel 282 ~Try And B Professional~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but Hell, my “father” only wanted me to get a job, and I can’t be mad.

Braxton would be these days. Literally, because the grass is poking his “whanger” while running the fence. I should never forget how great a teacher B III is. Did you know “whanger” is the U.K. equivalent of wanger, which is how I spelled the word originally? As for my son himself, I wish I could find all the rules he taught me. One of my favorites being “legs, breasts, and thighs are best in a bucket of chicken.” I continue to admit I hate math all these years, which is why I’m burning through wealth like there’s no tomorrow, if only. How do I learn to live without him? Last night I forgot to call him for “medicine time” damn, wrestling was on. My bad…

I’ve been thinking that Braxton had to become a mad scientist. His little body became a lab for god knows his schedule for taking his meds, the food he ate, and the water. I want to tell happy memories, but could a fucking water filter have saved him? I don’t care if he was a Trump supporter. Isn’t that weird coming from someone who originates from Mexico? I’m sure B III himself was born in the USA. He believed in our border wall, e.g., our gates. He hated nearly everyone, and he loved Black People, me, the family, Indiana Gone. Then why did he leave me all alone? My moods, I tell you, Lady Sophia, but Braxton was the best therapist, counselor, and dear friend.

People don’t believe me, but when I was sick and taking too long in the bathroom, he’d carry a blanket over to the door and cry. He would lie with me and lick my hand when I was unwell. When I was “hurt,” he would lie on that body part wishing it better, my kid. He was an expert cuddle buddy; I still miss our back-to-back formation, on guard even in sleep, good and bad. He must have figured I would drown one day, the way he called me out of the shower, so I can add lifeguard to his resume. With all the NaNoWriMo’s I’ve done, he is also a co-author. Today still unpublished.

I killed his book character. I’ll Try And B Professional.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 278 ~Full Pockets, Pants Fall Off~

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~

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 275 ~Learning To Speak Braxton~

I didn’t want to tell a sad story. Every day being the worse day of my life at the Day Job, I need to remind myself. Braxton saying goodbye was the day. Next would be me saying hello, but that’s another story. Learning To Speak Braxton is today’s yep

Friday, April 2, 2021

Gospel 275 ~Learning To Speak Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t speak stupid and lies “Trump” or world ruler as Bezos. I speak Braxton.

Or perhaps I “spoke” Braxton? No, it’s been two months, and if I stopped calling out to him, as the song goes, The Sound of Silence. Indeed M Anime is trying her best. She wants me to learn Spanish. A great man once taught “listen to the woman,” truer words… Learning to speak Braxton was a lot easier. Pretty girls and furbabies, and then I wonder why I’m not much of a man. Well, the man who was supposed to teach me such. He said that every word that came out of my mouth was STUPID. B thought it scripture. We started talking the same way we stopped, holding him and saying it would all be okay. Was that a lie? I’m not that bad.

Now I’ve been over hello and goodbye; how many times? How about “you’re safe?” For him, it would be sitting at the foot of the bed, staring at the doorway, keeping watch. To say it back, I would lift Braxton up, butt against one arm, his two front legs supported. My son saying he was hungry was a language all its own. Usually, it would involve his “Undiscovered” appetite making a comeback. In the form of him lying in the den waiting for fries. A quick spin and him leading me to his bathroom pad. How about, can’t bark now eating. Hell, I told people a lot that at least when B III was barking, he was helping me out. People only breathe to talk.

I Love You. How most people waste those words? Love, loyalty, the idea of “If I lay here If I just lay here.” Braxton spoke of love every day, so how could I not do likewise. Now it’s piling up. Today I looked up plenty on grief and love, but how Braxton and I spoke? In our last conversation, him standing on the seat as always, refusing to lie down. “I’m fine, Daddy, let’s go home, everything’s good, I’m a good boy. As I cried over him, telling him I was sorry, I tried, I love him. The last look he gave me as I held him, one word, WHY? Only know you love him when you let him go.

Still Learning To Speak Braxton

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 271 ~Know Your Sins Before Others~

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