Tag: Writer

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

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Instead of looking for the perfect woman, the goddess, I’d like to think of a girl that would love Braxton as much as I do. I’m already crying enough for two, so let some woman kick my ass for what happened to him. “Ask Your Mother B.”

Friday, May 14, 2021

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because I’m “creative,” or I like to think. Thinking about who Braxton’s Mom is.

She would have to be an early riser. I know I haven’t been the past few days. It’s going 8:30 AM about, which is super late for me. If there’s light in the sky, we walk him and me. Hell, I couldn’t even open the back gate a few days ago. It’s not me being sad, just the rain, hmm. Braxton would want her to be a better cook, not that he ever complained about mine. I can’t help wondering did all those McDonald’s fries have something to do with his passing. They last forever, you know. With all the food both B III and I shared, I killed him. Once again, I will never let go of that point. Then again, Mom blames herself.

Not that I would want Braxton’s Mom doing that. No, I am guilty. If she wants to blame me… It would be karma catching up to me. My Ma never blamed my “Father” for anything, and see how I feel about that man? To make B think the same of me, oh, that’s a crime, yep. On the other side of the equation, she’s not one of those “wait till your father gets home” types. Shall I imagine such love like my wife being here, and B runs from her to greet me? He chose me over everyone. He loves our kids, loves his Mom, but it’s Dad. I’m back. It took his death to turn me away from boobs, but my life… his world.

Only one woman outside the family held his sway, and that’s my second best friend. I’ve said before how she had to let him walk all over her, sharing four months of food and treats. There was a cake for his birthday and presents. Braxton’s party was an incredible time. His last days though… no Braxton, I’ll carry you, I’ll get you more water, I’ll help you. If any mother could do better, I would welcome that rather than him dying in my arms ever. Ask your Mom to save you even if you hate me for the rest of your life, son. Men save gods all the time; that’s why they’re not gods. Dog spelled backward, and Mother is God. Ask Your Mother B.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 316 ~To B A Mom~

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If I wasn’t so damn Depressed… please, God, no, I would say I could explode at any time. Hell, just saying that got me on some list, but I’m talking about the movie “Spontaneous” (2020). Moms might get mad at me, but what else is new. To B A Mom

Thursday, May 13, 2021

Gospel 316 ~To B A Mom~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How about how dare I, am I right? But for now, it’s just us two.

I was nowhere near ready to be your father and your Mom… Back when I was only your uncle, but you know how your Mom was. She called you her “real first baby,” yep. Braxton, I texted your grandmommy too. Now I didn’t send her anything, and doesn’t that sound familiar. I didn’t get you a Christmas present but for your sweet sixteen B… What would have been, but I thought we had more time. I’m sure that’s what your furry Mom thought too. Women and life um… Bitches, man

Again how dare I, but as the song goes, “That I’ll be standing right here talking to you.” Well, more like lounging around in bed. It’s been 102 days since the vet “said you sailed a big ship. Said you sailed away.” Well more poetically, like something from my playlist. Anything to cover up the silence B. I can’t remember crying in my Ma’s arms or any woman’s, to be honest. Right now, I can still feel you beside me. You’re lying against my legs, or you’re warm under the covers. There are clean clothes for you to indulge in. You could listen to me bitch to the ladies, Inspector Echo, Dear Future Wife, Dirty Diana. Of course, you replaced the last one, and you never met Dear Future Wife, aka your Mom. The book I’m going to write next NaNoWriMo could be 50,000 words of I’m sorry, remember that? Boys need a Mom, and I’m not being political there.

Last night after watching “Spontaneous” (2020), I felt pretty… Depressed. Today I don’t want to think about Depression, the fourth stage of grief. Watching all the Republican bull afterward didn’t help. I understand why my sister raised you watching Disney. Exploding wouldn’t be so bad, B III. It wasn’t so quick for you, I know, but five days and you were gone. Boom! When Mara was walking away covered in um, such and such blood, that’s how I felt, and I didn’t have my Ma or anybody to hold me. I bitch to you, Braxton. My bannerman, my best friend, my boy. Whoever would have been my wife and your Mom, damn, that’s asking everything.

I’ve shed enough tears for two. To B A Mom

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

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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 309 ~Catching Our Tales Braxton~

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Braxton was never one to go chasing his TAIL as he was always so busy following me. Like The Road, “Sometimes I TELL the boy old stories of courage and justice,” it was never many of those. “Catching Our Tales Braxton…” maybe the world will know

Thursday, May 6, 2021

Gospel 309 ~Catching Our Tales Braxton~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Like last week when we spoke around this time, there was no story to tell.

If I do get fired, did, Hell Braxton, do you have any superpowers, supernatural? Have you become all-seeing, which explains why your Daddy is still a monk and a lazy ass? I have been talking to “everyone” today. I don’t know what the next day will bring for me ever. Now it won’t be the story of your resurrection, will it? As Tupac put it, “bury me in pieces cause they fear reincarnation.” My Old Man of all people said that your spirit could be calling out from another furbaby somewhere. I guess A Dog’s Purpose was plenty for me. You’ve seen what I’ve been reading nowadays. I would ask if you ever listened to me before to please avert your eyes and ears B.

You hated my phone as it took my attention away from you. Daddy always had a song for you, so let me sing. “Son, what you don’t understand, my words might never explain. So I am hoping that time will.” When I took a shower, though… Daddy’s stuff and thangs. However, when I wasn’t looking those things up, I’ve been researching what took you away. Oh, I still blame myself, no doubt, and I don’t blame you for wanting to get to the bottom of it. I read in Succubus Lord how the Shades relive their deaths over and over. Not saying you went to Hell, of course, unless Cerberus needed friendship or you’re saving me a spot by the fire. The two of us…

Didn’t I tell you I killed off your character writing for Camp NaNoWriMo? I swear if I write another book for the next one, it will be about us, I promise. Maybe I will include these letters with some poetry, and I’ve gotten into photography books. What do you think? Braxton, I haven’t been telling the happy stories about us these days because I explained to someone. Without your love, the void has been filled with hate, I’m afraid. Rage, I have no problem letting out, but if I had shown more love to you and less wrath to others, I wish? What I wouldn’t give to have you lying on my ass again as I come up with these gems of wisdom Little B.

I’m trying, and one day, hopefully Catching Our Tales Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

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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 302 ~What’s The B Ending~

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I had no idea how bad Wednesday was going to be. The last one that was so… heinous, B III cried, but all I could do was pick him up, wrap him under my arm, and nap. It didn’t end there; the week only got worse but for a moment. “What’s The B Ending?”

Thursday, April 29, 2021

Gospel 302 ~What’s The B Ending~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I don’t really want to talk about my day, and I haven’t even lived it.

I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that Wednesday when I was feeling this way. Time-Travel, Monsieur B. If I had done more of it on January, 27 perhaps I wouldn’t be here April 29 without you. At present, though, it’s April 24, and you know why I’m speaking. As I tell you every AM, I miss you, B III. I still love you like pancakes, but B, I must confess. Shouldn’t I have done that Wednesday? God, I hate Wednesday and Sunday. Not the days’ fault but mine. So my secret… when I say I miss you, I can hear MILF Dos’s voice. If it’s any consolation, you would have liked her yabbos. Now I know you appreciated Indiana Gone’s, without a doubt.

I was thinking about getting her a picture of you or us. Braxton, she misses you, but that would be weird. Always and forever B, so as long as I’m alive, you will be too until we’re together again. I should try cutting off Youtube once in a while, but um, “He Lives In You.” It’s what I tell myself every day, B, and look at me crying again. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop, but I need something to round out the Anger, especially this week. It’s almost like the one I had when you…. Again I’m not even living this week as I write you B Squared. Tell me something, do I deserve to have this pain end? I finished Camp NaNoWriMo…

Hell, if I had published a book already like Cherry? I saw her this morning, do me a favor, B, and see if you can find a cat named Millie. Talk about “stalking,” remembering some English vixen’s cat on the Rainbow Bridge. I’m still a monk and your Daddy. Braxton, was that even funny? So many things ended when you left, and those that began? I want to stay in the same place, you know, but life has its ways. How dare I say that. You wanted to live and now… was I going to say I want to die? I don’t want to move, I know that. The way our story ended like something out of NieR: Automata. Always, Forever, What’s The B Ending?

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

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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 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

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There’s no alarm for “mourning.” There’s no routine for it; otherwise, I would listen to He’s My Son by Mark Schultz 24/7. “What A Heavenly Way To Die” that would be. Instead, I take a second step in the five stages of grief. “Sounds Like B Leaving.”

Thursday, April 22, 2021

Gospel 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I don’t want to make you mad, although your Dad is all sorts of pissed.

I know. It sounds like I could be doing better. Today it sounds like I’m going to talk about the good, the bad, and the ugly. Braxton, you were the soundtrack of my life. I need you to know that. Do you remember the day I said, “Braxton get in the car,” and you hopped? The first day you chose me, not my sister, not the grandparents, only me. In their new house, you barked at them in the AM defending the gate for me. The best welcome I got from you was the day your granddad was here. You jumped into my arms, whining. Braxton, the most beautiful sound was nightly. When I would say, “Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams.” You’d paw the bed, settle and sleep beside me.

I hated fighting with you. There were times you would growl at me or snap. I’d be all, “you’re in trouble, the longer you hide.” You and I would both listen for one of my alarms to go off so I could call you a “good puppy” again. Your nails were pacing the floor all alone. I would call you about your meds, but it was hard for you to get down the stairs. I would carry you for so many days, but once you were outside for a walk, you were young again. You couldn’t hop in the car anymore, and I couldn’t blame you; with my final act. No, it started the day you cried… I ignored you.

I swear I thought you were going to be okay. Wednesday, you cried. By Thursday, you were back. I didn’t need the doctor to utter the words that Sunday evening. “He’s Gone.” The worst sound in the world was as I held you there and I heard your final breath. Braxton, I sat there on the stairs that day and cried like I never have before. It was the fucking silence that was killing me. How dare I? I killed you, so my going to Hell is what I deserve. For 72 days, I lived in Denial, I continue, but then the fucking ASM, ANGER. That bastard took my “peace.” Down from Denial to Anger, Up from Treachery to Anger. Always Sounds Like B Leaving.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 289 ~B Gets The Girl~

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“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 288 ~Braxton Is, Write Will~

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I much rather be writing letters to my son than having to contemplate going to HR again today. How about explaining to my Olds about really becoming a starving artist? No matter how confusing, I do write better than I speak. “Braxton Is, Write Will.”

Thursday, April 15, 2021

Gospel 288 ~Braxton Is, Write Will~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day; has your day begun? Is the Rainbow Bridge like the Rainbow Road a timed event?

It wasn’t a race you had to win, and yet you did. That explains why I’ve been listening to “Run Boy Run” on the playlist I made for you or me, us… I don’t know. While I have nothing to say to God, that line from He’s My Son echoes, “if you can hear me, let me take his place somehow.” It’s a simple request, and if I had written anything that touches others the way that line makes me bawl? I could have stopped you from leaving, you know, like putting up some gate. It wasn’t money or the doctors, Braxton it was time. Two years ago, I paid money to publish Gulp, and here I am two years later without you or anything.

You have been here for every story I’ve ever written. Well, minus that one when turkeys took over the whole world. Where has the hunger gone, I ask you? Wasn’t it right after you left? I signed the papers, and I turned ravenous, at least physically, from famine to feast. It still hurts, you know, even when I shop online. Hell, even before I do that, I sit here doing the budget again. Your needs are no longer part of the mathematical equation unless we count the water bill. That’s where your grandparents step in. I should be writing checks. Instead, I book shopping trips, and the food disappears. I buy books from infamous figures. The background is plagued with noise from unwatched shows, Youtube.

If writing paid for this, who knows where you would be my B; still alive? Instead, I continue to work the Day Job I hate and write lackadaisically at best. You would sit here with me, or at 2:00 AM, you’d be in your bed waiting. I’d come in, and you’d wake up to get in my bed. If I wasn’t going to be serious about my writing, the least I could do is spend more time with you. I Only Want To Be With You, like Janine and her Charlotte in The Handmaid’s Tale. Another book, a show, a concept more remarkable than mine. Yours ended but my library… Braxton, perhaps that was your last lesson. I am your father, a “writer.” To be all, Braxton Is, Write Will

Always and Forever,
Your Dad