Jack Tait is sad.

Jack Tait sat confused and restless.  depressed and sad.  longing for long lost summer days with his loving daughter and beautiful wife.  wondering where they both were.  wondering if they were both okay.  hoping that he hadn’t fucked them up too much but Jack Tait’s hope’s usually proved fruitless the way that his prayers usually proved fruitless.  wasted mornings and wasted nights praying to a god that never seemed to care.  never seemed to be there.  a god that allows young babies to starve to death and allows old wrinkled white guys to run/ruin the world.  a god that is talked about but never seen the same way that Santa is talked about but never seen.  Jack Tait grabbed his forty of Jack Daniels and sat on his purple reclining chair.  he opened the bottle and poured the liquid down his throat.  his body and mind getting older and catching up to his wrinkled face and wrinkled one ball.  the last thirty years of his life washed away in booze and guilt and now he sits alone and sad once again.  he wonders about other lonely people who sit by themselves at night and watch shitty tv and eat shitty food.  he wonders why they are alone and wonders if they could fix their issue of loneliness the way he has tried to fix his issue of loneliness.  so many lonely people in a world filled with loud obnoxious people and loud obnoxious music.  a world that has forgotten the word love and has replaced love with selfies and phony sad sacked love filled posts about family on facebook.  a world that was once filled with free love and free sex has been replaced by strict rules and strict sex.  too many diseases and too many options leave many people frozen and alone.  longing for a better life but frozen and stuck on facebook and stuck reading long articles about how to better their lives when the easy answer is to get back to being a kid and being free from the shackles that keep us all mired in quicksand and mired in our cluttered heads and cluttered minds.
dull boring people making the rules to suit their needs.  their needs of fake parties and fake tits with fake cars and fake laughs.  Jack Tait took another swig of Jack Daniels to quench his thirst and continued to think about life and all of it’s downfalls.  “WHY DO WE FOLLOW THESE RULES?  WHO MADE THESE RULES?  WHY WERE THESE RULES MADE?  WHO DECIDED WHEN WE COULD GET A LICENCE TO DRIVE?  WHO DECIDED WHEN WE COULD VOTE?  WHO DECIDED WHEN WE COULD FUCK?  WHO DECIDED WHEN WE NEEDED TO FINISH SCHOOL?  WHO DECIDED WHAT WAS TAUGHT IN SCHOOL?  WHO DECIDED MINIMUM WAGE AND WHO DECIDED SALARIES FOR VARIOUS USELESS OCCUPATIONS?  WHO DECIDED SPEED LIMITS AND WHO DECIDED THAT IT IS OKAY TO SMOKE CIGARETTES BUT NOT OKAY TO EAT MUSHROOMS?  NOT OKAY TO TALK ON THE PHONE WHILE DRIVING?  WHO MADE THESE MOTHERFUCKING RULES AND WHEN WERE THEY MADE???”
Jack Tait finished off his bottle of Jack and walked outside.  he wanted to take in the cold bright air.  he wanted to breathe in the cold fresh air.  he wanted to take in life without maggots and rules.  without hateful fools.  he looked up to the sky and smiled.  he then hopped on his blue tricycle and rode up and down his driveway.  he screamed, “I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!!  I AM FREE!!!!  I LOVE PEOPLE!!! SARAH AND TAYLOR PLEASE COME BACK TO ME!!!!!!!!!” 
Jack Tait continued to ride and scream for his long lost family.  day.  night.  he would not stop until they came back.  he knew that love and family were the most important things in this world.  he knew that he wasted many days and wasted many nights chasing the wrong things and the wrong people and now is a free man.  he hopes that it is not too late.  but hope never seems to help him.  he thought about praying but that never helped him either.  he continued pedalling the pedals of his blue tricycle as crickets chirped and the coyotes howled.
Jack Tait is sad.