a big mind but a cluttered mind.

Jack Tait has just completed another day of his life.  a day of useless errands.  useless food.  useless people giving him useless advice.  his mind hanging on by the skinniest of threads.  a big mind but a cluttered mind.  cluttered thoughts in a cluttered world.  a world where “sex is evil” but shooting and killing people is deemed as necessary.  McDonald’s making billions while Joe Burger is closing down.  A world where we have sunk to new lows.  a world where average is applauded and unique is frowned upon.  frowned upon not only by good for nothing authoritarian figures but by mainstream bores as well.  a world where we don’t talk about sex but let six year old girls go to dance competitions wearing bikini’s and plastered on make up.  a sick world filled with sick minds or dull minds which is just as bad as having a sick mind.  365 days a year.  government pests and dictators.  another mission in Iraq???  what the fuck for???  HARPER IS A SICK MAN!!!
Jack Tait pulled out a book and began to read.  Bukowski always helping Jack get through the dog days of winter.  barking.  shitting.  drinking.  puking.  Jack jumped up and down on the bed screaming at the white walls.  “HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP ME!!!!  HELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!  STOP LYING AND START FEELING!!!  FUCK ANYONE AND EVERYONE WHO DOES NOT FEEL.  YOU ARE A MAGGOT TO ME!!!”
Jack Tait jumped off the bed and turned off all of the lights.  he had one.  he looked up at the sky and saw many stars.  bright bright stars.  head still pounding.  back sore.  neck sore.  head sore.  “how will I eventually die?”  Jack asked himself.  Not really wanting an answer.
Jack wondered where his Mom was.  he wondered how she felt.  he then tried to fall asleep but he couldn’t.  too many thoughts.  too many dreams.  not enough time.  a slow death.  his life was at least exciting even though he could not escape death.  most lived a slow death.  a slow and boring life becoming a slow and boring death.  dull.  complacent.  judgemental fucks filled with sheepish thoughts and sheepish lives.  a world of sheep fucking other dull sheep.
Jack Tait thought of all the bratty kids which was caused by useless parents that had the kids because they had nothing else going on in their mundane and sheepish lives.  lights out at 8pm.  hockey rinks and soccer fields.  movie theatres and Walmart.  McDonald’s and Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Burger King and Target.  The Bay.  Sears.  Montana’s.  Kelsey’s.  Tim Horton’s.  The Toronto Maple Leafs.  The Toronto Blue Jays.  Jack Tait could not escape the shit.  the brats.  the bores.  the dumb.  the privileged.  the more he tried the more he saw.  there was no escape.  tick tock.  tick tock.  good music helping.  music filled with fire and anger.  not ice and roses. 
“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK”.
Jack Tait grabbed his Louisville Slugger and walked out of his shiity rundown farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.  he was a man on a mission.  he jumped on his blue tricycle and rode down the long lonely driveway.  he turned right and headed towards Parliament Hill.  his face filled with anger.  filled with excitement.  he pedalled and pedalled.  he saw a blue Heron fly by and stopped to observe the beauty.  beautiful bird.  beautiful sky.  “BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG”  Jack fell down to the ground in a hail of bullets.  sixteen RCMP officers with their guns pulled and their balls scraping the ground.  blood filling the dirty ground.  quietness.  life over for Jack Tait.  just like that it was over.  many years of fun.  many years of grief.  many years of struggle.  many years of love and many years of lost love and lost youth.  LIFE WAS FINALLY OVER.  the cops looked around and saw no one.  they grabbed a shovel and buried Jack on the side of the dirt road.  alone.  dead.  cold.  life.  death.