Tag: Truth

Chronicle 001 ~Life On The B-Side~

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Five years ago today, I started writing this blog. An anniversary… you know if you’ve been reading how I feel about holidays… anyone, anyone? To think, when I started, it was because of a “girl” and now the loss of my little boy. “Life On The B-Side”

Friday, July 2, 2021

Chronicle 001 ~Life On The B-Side~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Would that be enough for paradise, Heaven? “Oh, where, oh where has my little dog gone?”

My Lady, this isn’t how I wanted to start the “Chronicles….” Yes, this is the hill I’ll die on, as THEY say. I hoped I had more time to think about it, but seeing how I’m talking to you on a Tuesday afternoon. Say it with me, AHEM, TIME TRAVEL, TIME TRAVEL. So work sucks. Now I mean the Day Job without question, and didn’t I admit today that I love writing. However, something I love to accomplish, playing God. Another famous writer wrote this. “God Is Cruel.” Forgive me, Sophia, for daring to think so presumptuous as fucking right. Aren’t I full of books today, first Stephen King? And now Margaret Atwood with “Under His Eye.” I feel Braxton today. Every moment, I disappoint.

Here I am at the beginning of my fifth year of blogging, and to be honest, I can’t really remember why I started. Dammit, the Basic Bitch, but it was the PAIN, want of lust. Writing is me at my most masochistic. One more reason in a hundred, a thousand. Could it be a million that I miss my son? To think if he were here now, little dæmon Braxton. Am I writing about him today? Did I yesterday? Again I’m looking ahead. Only I never saw his death coming. Yet one more painful moment kick-starting my writing once again. Because with enough pain Lady Sophia, I will become the man I wish to be. A billionaire, a bad man, someone who belongs on Earth.

I was already that and more when Braxton would look up at me from his pillow. Five years ago, when I wrote of the Basic Bitch, I wanted to prove I wasn’t the man she thought I was. I want to show Braxton that I am the man he believed in with his last breath. Sophia, be it the Rainbow Bridge or wherever he’s watching me, he lives in me. And I want to quit being this failure, fiend, and fuck-up. I am his father, his daddy, the man who will tell his story to the world. I didn’t do so much of that today, sigh Time Travel. Today should be meaningful, don’t you think. Braxton should’ve known the A-Side, but… Life On The B-Side.

152 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 362 ~Though Routine, War Never Changes~

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Whenever I left, I’d tell my son, “I love you, B, I love you, Braxton.” Then I’d face the world and return full of Fear, Anger, and Hate. He made sure I wouldn’t suffer alone. I didn’t notice his routine changing. “Though Routine, War Never Changes.”

Monday, June 28, 2021

Gospel 362 ~Though Routine, War Never Changes~

Hundred And Ninety-Fourth Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should be screaming at someone, screwing someone over. And still sleeping like a baby.

The routine of what I call my life… When B died, routine is what kept me running or instead shambling. To this day, 148, to be exact, I continue to do everything in my Denial. What I can’t seem to figure out; when it comes to the Day Job, is which is worse, Madam? It’s not “Another Day,” I can’t show that indifference anymore. But it was Anger that led to me ignoring my son. No answer is good for me, and why the fuck should I care what the Day Job thinks? Pardon my French, but here I am on this Sunday; Time-Travel, SIGH. The mere thought of the Day Job. “It makes my blood boil. Turns my eyes to flames,” like the song.

I don’t think I ever spoke about what happened with the signs at the Day Job. Once again, why do I give a damn? I screwed the company over, or routine; every moment is my failure. It’s me being STUPID. Next to Braxton’s loss, stupidity is the worst feeling in the world. The third would be that night remembering the Basic Bitch. Fourth, failing to know success. I said this morning that I screwed myself over this weekend. Not doing a thing to help myself. M Anime and I talked, and she’s expecting a war, and I swear I want peace. So why is it I like to fight, to be filled with rage like one of those Infected in “Patient Zero.” Remember the peace

Braxton and I, sitting on the couch. I would read, and he would sleep, perfectly content. I would wake up in bed. And he’d be sitting on the foot, watching the door. The walks we shared together when it was only us. Brothers, warriors he and I but grateful moments. It was always my promise to give him anything, everything, but that’s not the purpose of war. “War can’t give life. It can only take it away.” It feeds on itself, Madam Justice. Yet we continue, and why? It becomes our routine. For only a little while fifteen years, Madam. At least I had an ally, and I wonder why my rage overflows these days. I am The Walking Dead. Though Routine, War Never Changes.

148 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Gospel 360 ~B Over The Threshold~

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I’d have carried Braxton always and forever. B walked into this house on his own four paws, and some six years later, I had to carry him out. How am I to imagine carrying a woman over or another fur baby. How dare I come “home?” B Over The Threshold

Saturday, June 26, 2021

Gospel 360 ~B Over The Threshold~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but that kind of cash is heavy. So is my grief, my “GOD,” and any goodness.

Of the Five Stages of Grief, Bargaining was the shortest. I’m not sure how it was supposed to go. I’m sure that if I got a better water filter for Braxton or if I hadn’t changed his food sometime in 2020. I’m sure there’s a bit I’m missing from B III’s January 8, 2021 check-up. Depression, like Denial, is endless. Yet I haven’t lain a treat in his room this morning, and B’s med time passed at 8:00. I will do it as soon as I leave the room. Of course, my tears haven’t stopped, and we’re on 146 Days. Will I ever stop counting the days? I hope not. Lady Luna, I will not accept this ever; I keep saying that. I MEAN IT!

I continue to be the lone prophet of my son, and I don’t know if he’s gotten heavier or I’m split between so many things. It’s a bit of both, I believe. Braxton was never heavy in my arms. Now he’s always on my mind; I’m still picking up the pieces. Sunrise is my Braxton. Now I have to do it myself. Being a father, a buddy, a brother, a protector, and so many things. Hell, fatherhood is one big umbrella holding a great many things. All of them working towards the same love, but now the rain is coming down, and where were you? I’m asking myself that Lady Lu. It’s like I’m all over the place, and the storm isn’t ending for me.

Braxton is first and foremost in my life. Despite everything else, let my guilt be always and forever. I will take it if it keeps my boy with me. And being HAPPY… hate that word. Then there’s “Stuff And Thangs.” Um, talk about living a double life, but I haven’t quit yet. It’s not like people would notice, and ever since I broke after 161 Days, Lu. B was alive. I’m not a good man like Gabriel from The Fallen series. He abstains for his brothers who are finding love, two or three of them anyway. Again I won’t get past this ever, Lady Lu. How dare some girl or another fur baby come into this place, I shared with B. B Over The Threshold.

146 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 359 ~Braxton FOUR The Win~

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The Laws of Four are very different from the Laws of Eight from The Postman. Excuse me, I’ve been watching a lot of movies lately. I always need the background noise, and still, I tell myself stories to get to bed at night. Braxton FOUR The Win.

Friday, June 25, 2021

Gospel 359 ~Braxton FOUR The Win~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m still wondering what steps I took. I know the law… NONE with that money.

Rule Number Four, Braxton, don’t crap in the house. B III and I aren’t rich men, but I was always hoping. His whole life, well, um, the last five years of it, he only had four rules to obey. I shouldn’t even call this a law. If anything, it was being polite; there were times. Rule Number Three, never be afraid to ask me for anything; stealing isn’t necessary. If that sounds sane, it’s from Boyz In The Hood. You know The Pancake Story, or uh call it the “waffle” or “French Toast,” hmm. The first time B ever stole from me, well second, ha. He stole my heart when I met him. I’ll never forget those four little legs so confused trying to run.

Rule Number Two, “I don’t care if you’re sick as a dog or in bed with Beyonce. I call, you show.” That’s from, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, arguably the worst in the franchise. It’s also a law B III lived about 80% when he was well and 100% when he’d get sick. He didn’t want me to worry, not that I called him at all those last days. He walked to his water bowl, he hid under the bed when I doted on him, he stood on the seat. Lady Sophia, I continue to call on him daily, for his meds, for his strength, to hear my voice. Otherwise, I would never speak at all. When I start talking to myself …

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

Rule Number One, don’t bite the hand that feeds you. I can count the number of times Braxton bit me with one hand. I’m lucky to have the two, and I can only remember one bite, really. It was the time he decided to terrorize my OLDS neighborhood. I grabbed him, and he nearly took my thumb off. That leads us back to rule four because I was so angry I wasn’t walking him, so I suppose my mom did. Another moment he got close to biting, bath time, and he was punished or rewarded… B had to go to the groomers from then on. Sophia, it makes me wonder did I hurt him? I killed him… there’s been no justice. Braxton FOUR The Win.

145 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 355 ~Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die~

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I don’t want to Accept, Acclimate, or Adapt to B’s passing. I broke one vow, but the one I spoke on January 31st, “everything stays the same,” remains unbroken. I look around, and he’s still here but to survive. “Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die”

Monday, June 21, 2021

Gospel 355 ~Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die~

Hundred And Ninety-Third Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I suppose it will take getting used to. Sonless, sinless, salvation

Sonless… my first Father’s Day without Braxton in fifteen years. Well, seeing as how I’m writing this on Wednesday. Speaking of time, I never planned on Braxton, and yet I want to be a Dad to another furbaby and others someday. Only, I’m learning Adaptation. Another word for my hate list is Normal or New Normal. Neither term is ideal, but at least with Normal, I had B III. Again, one of today’s words is Adaptation because with Evolution? It seems so far away. Even though it’s been 141 Days Madame. Existence moves ever forward. Is that my way of saying “Life, Uh, Finds a Way” or “Existence Locates a Path?” Is it the man or the road? In a way, I think it’s both.

“There’s a saying – the pessimist looks down and hits his head. The optimist looks up and loses his footing. The realist looks forward and adjusts his path accordingly.” TWD

“Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?”
― Garth Nix, Sabriel

Sinlessness is, of course, impossible. As the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus,” or at least I want to avoid a “political” discussion at the moment. I understand Jesus, though, because if I could take all of Braxton’s bad upon myself, I would. Only B III died. Madame, I let him go, and what did I receive? Braxton’s out there somewhere happy. These days I get to explore who I am, and every time I look in the mirror, I hate myself. Ok, now I’ve said J, I got cash, ha. Oh, “but in the end, it doesn’t even matter,” Linkin Park. I drift farther and farther away from the Daddy that Braxton honestly knew to become… I don’t know or care.

Salvation is beyond my reach because while I can’t adapt to life without Braxton, “I Don’t Wanna Die.” Isn’t this what they mean by a “Mad World.” Will I stop with all the music references? I broke my vow last week but with this one, who knows. There’s clarity now. Like Super Mario knowing that his quest will never end as there’s always another journey. So he adapts from being a plumber to whatever he needs to be. Yet didn’t he forget his brother eventually, his princess, and even the real world for a time? He wants to survive despite everything and anything. I want to say I’m not sure, but of course, I’m still here, isn’t that right, Madame? Unless I’m lucky, Time Travel. Adaptation… Compromise, Adapt Or Die

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QpvHkBNGrlI

141 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 353 ~No B In Emancipation~

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Emancipation, Acceptance, Survivor are big words, yet we wonder why we rather say “I” despite who it hurts. THEY say I set him free and if I had to do it again… To be a better friend, father, forgo my freedom, for there’s “No B In Emancipation.”

Saturday, June 19, 2021

Gospel 353 ~No B In Emancipation~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so there are some “I’s” when it comes to whatever I’m doing. Here come the tears

Not for Juneteenth. I’m pleased with the holiday, which was celebrated Friday, being a federal holiday and all. This weekend too. I’m a man of my word ha-ha about some plans for today. Of course, that’s why I woke up late, 7:00 AM. What a way to start the day, don’t you agree? So you want me to explain the crying AHEM, Tradition! Braxton got his walking papers, was emancipated, got his shots, and now here I am. Today I go in for the COVID Vaccine, a first dose. Yeah, B III got his back to back as I sat there, my eyes wide open, Lu. My Arms Wide Open but we’ll get to that. Should we talk about how offensive I’m being right now?

I’m not trying to, but I’m learning freedom can be. What’s so offensive in Acceptance? Such a belief that Braxton would always be here for me. Comparing Life with Death. Believing in such things as the greater good, the bigger picture. Hell, just sitting here. Wasn’t it, last week, I told myself that I better not waste the entire week I was off and free? What are you going to do with freedom? I tell you, Lady Lu, not a damn thing to save me. At least if B was here, I could say as the song goes, “You Were Loved.” I set him free. Didn’t I, like it was any given Sunday, but it’s Saturday, yeah. If you love someone, set them free, right?

Yes, I must remind you and me that I’m not suicidal… currently taking this vaccine. Yet I’m reminded of The Cure by Sonia Levitin. Braxton and I being “Recycled” together. I would have taken that deal. How about making this choice last night to survive? Remember, Six: The Mark Unleashed “I still remember the last free choice I ever made. It was the wrong choice.” I am a free man, a black man, an American. But I serve, we do. With it all, B III wanted to stay until his last breath. I think of his eyes; sigh. “Why Daddy?” Braxton’s freedom from the suffering, the sickness, the sinner that I remain after 139 Days. Slaves waited years for liberty. Mine… No B In Emancipation

139 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 352 ~Good And B Days~

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I’ve never been one for holidays. I hate my birthday, I’m sure I forgot my “father’s” this week and the last holiday Braxton, and I could have had… Hell, I didn’t even buy him another plushy. “Good And B Days,” good on Juneteenth, but where’s B again

Friday, June 18, 2021

Gospel 352 ~Good And B Days~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and there’s plenty I want to do. Bring Braxton back, buy an island, make a holiday.

I should say something about Juneteenth. Could I get the COVID vaccine today to celebrate freedom or Saturday, hmm? Um, yep, I woke up late again today but then again, so did Texas. Am I cracking jokes, Lady Sophia? Is today awfully good, awesomely bad? Any day B had food in his mouth was good for him; Thanksgiving, Christmas, B-Day. Let’s start with Thanksgiving, which to him was his Christmas. My Ma always sends something over, which would mean plenty of sharing. Now, aren’t I terrible because I did to Braxton what SOME did to the Native Americans? One good meal, a disease, and a trail of tears ever since. Have I offended you yet? To think history was once my favorite subject Lady Sophia.

Like having Christmas Brunch with my Olds, of course, that was when B III and I still lived with them. When we “moved out,” most holidays became a distant memory. Can I use not giving Braxton something else to pee on as an excuse? I didn’t get him a gift. Sophia, how many times have I told that story of our last Christmas? We spent it here, no Santa, no sleigh, a relatively Silent Night. It wouldn’t be if we were ever invited to brunch again, or do I have that wrong? We would be deaf by the end as he barked up a storm. What I wouldn’t give to hear that bark again. It’s July, but I’ll feel about Christmas as Sheldon Cooper does.

Or how about Leonard on his birthday? You know how I feel about my “Emergence Day.” Braxton and I never made a big deal out of my Emergence or his Birth. I don’t even remember celebrating it. Not until it was only Braxton and me, leading to a problem. Okay, so I’m a broken record, but we never knew the exact day. Well, our lonesome vet appointments began in February. I know on the fifteenth that’s half-price chocolate day and a cleaning nightmare. I didn’t have a lover on Valentine’s, so the thirteenth was practical, his birthday. Braxton has refused to eat twice in his life. So Braxton overate on his birthday once. Then on the last days before his death. Good And B Days.

138 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 348 ~A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret~

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Conan became a King. He sat upon his throne with a troubled brow. Before, his life was full of high adventure. Only now, I feel like when he was pushing that wheel, bored thinking about life. A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret, I was bored of B?

Monday, June 14, 2021

Gospel 348 ~A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret~

Hundred And Ninety-Second Rule

Madame Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and already I’m thinking I’m okay with it. I’ll make more tomorrow…

When I get up at 6:30 in the morning, instead of 4:00, the day is already ruined. When I have to get up for the Day Job, I’ll still be hating that week I wasted doing nothing at all. As always, Madam J, this is not Depression but instead shame. This is not okay ever. I should at least be saving money because what was it I said yesterday about spending $150 on Maitland Ward’s Yabbos. Um, that’s $140 now as I spent $10 on “Rachel McGuire’s.” Oh, all I’ve got thus far, can I say I’m so thankful with any one of them, hmm? Hell, would me getting that tattoo for Braxton be something that will make me feel better, Madam? I don’t know.

Also, yesterday I talked about Dakota Skye’s passing but did I look up some of her work? As the song goes, I won’t go getting “Tired Of You.” The fact that I’m still talking about this proves it. Yet I didn’t do any searching other than for a good picture. I do that for B. However, Madam, these past few weeks have been all about the things I do because B III isn’t around. I wrote of renewed vows and ended up breaking it in the same day, and for what? Do I regret going all out for “Stuff And Thangs?” In a way, yes, but I’m not bored yet… I’ve been living on background noise, but something woke me. Make Way For The King

Only it was the young prince who died first. Braxton would expect more from me than sitting here wondering why I’m not dead yet. If I am only going to sit around waiting for the end. I should at least get the vaccine. Definitely want to prolong what’s become Hell. I was never lonely or, let’s say, overcome with ennui when I was with B III. I’ll never get over being here reading a good book and him by my side. I wasn’t bored with life Madam Justice, I was angry at it, but I said Another Day to keep down the boiling blood. I couldn’t, and I became indifferent to the one that loved me the most, Braxton. And the moment that happened, Madam… A Moment’s Ennui Grows Regret

134 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 346 ~Be Something B Cause~

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

Saturday, June 12, 2021

Gospel 346 ~Be Something B Cause~

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

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

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

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

132 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 345 ~Good Morning B, Sorry~

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

Friday, June 11, 2021

Gospel 345 ~Good Morning B, Sorry~

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

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

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

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

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

131 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will