Jack Tait sat in his rundown farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and looked to the skies above. he saw a dirty old ceiling with dirty old stains and dirty old paint. he struggled to get up from the dirty old couch and made his way across the dirty old floor and opened the dirty old door and walked outside onto the dirty old lawn. he sat down on the dirty old ground and lay back onto his dirty old grass. he looked above and saw many old stars in a very old sky. he was old and beaten down by his dirty life. dirty wife. dirty family. dirty country. dirty world. everything seemingly dirty but no matter how dirty everything was Jack Tait refused to give in. he refused to die. he refused to give up on his life the way many had long ago given up. he knew that despite the many tragedies, many disappointments, many losses, many failures, many long lonely nights mixed with too much booze and too little sex he still wanted to live. he still felt the world was beautiful. a beautiful world filled with beautiful people and beautiful things. he knew that one day he would be stuck in a dirty old hospital filled with dying old people who were lonely and sad and so he wanted to make the most out of his NOW.
he grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and took a swig and then lay back down to look at the stars. he was peaceful. he was calm. he was relaxed. twenty four hours earlier he was in a drunken stupor and yelling at his imaginary friends and imaginary dog. he was slurring his words while he nakedly stumbled down his dirty driveway to the dirty road. he was in a typical blackout. a typical stupor. a typical anger. a typical night in a less than typical life. a life filled with contradictions and rage and happiness and loneliness and sadness and humour and overall fun. a life. a life that continued to move forward and continued to surprise.
Jack Tait sat up and took another swig and then lay back down. his red face now matching his one red nut. redrum. redrum. redrum. everything red. everything rum. he relaxed once again and began to drift off into a blissful sleep. coyotes howling. crickets chirping. dogs barking. leaves rustling. a lonely man in a lonely house. sleeping. breathing. dreaming.
dreaming of his youth. dreaming of his first teacher. his first friend. his first bike. his first grade. his first goal. his first fight. his first orgasm. his first drink. his first love. his first arrest. his first jail. his first fuck. his first betrayal. BETRAYAL. BETRAYAL. BETRAYAL.
WHY IS THERE SO MUCH BETRAYAL IN OUR WORLD?
WHY IS THERE SO MUCH BETRAYAL IN MY LIFE?
WHY AM I SO HOT RIGHT NOW?
WHY DO SO MANY PEOPLE HURT SO MANY PEOPLE?
WHY DO PEOPLE DRIVE SO FAST?
WHY DO PEOPLE KILL EACH OTHER?
WHY DO PEOPLE GO TO WAR?
WHY DO PEOPLE HAVE ELECTIONS WHERE THEY ELECT DUMMIES?
WHY DO SO MANY HORRIFIC EVENTS HAPPEN IN SUCH A BEAUTIFUL WORLD?
WHY?
WHY?
WHY?
Jack Tait continued to sleep while his mind continued to work. so many questions and never any answers.
the night turned to dawn and Jack Tait woke up. he was still naked. and still hot. the booze began to seep through his pores and he was clammy and ugly. he struggled to get up but he succeeded. he found his blue tricycle and walked it out to the main road. he jumped on and started pedalling west. he was naked. he was sad. he was alone. always alone. always sad. on the outside always happy. always mad. a cycling contradiction in a contradicting life. a lonely man wanting love. wanting connection. but a lonely man pushing everyone away. family the most important thing to Jack but Jack never seeing his family. never knowing where they were or what they were doing. a family man seemingly with no family. a family man filled with rage and drunkenness and volatile behaviour and sadness and confusion. confusion getting lost amongst the bigger emotions of rage and sadness.
Jack Tait rode and rode and rode. he was sweating. he was crying. he was naked. he was alone. he couldn’t keep up to the zooming trucks and speeding cars but that never stopped him from his goal. his life goal. his purpose. his passion. he wanted to connect. he wanted to love. he wanted to find his Mom. he wanted to find his Dad. he wanted to find his long lost wife and long lost daughter. he knew that he only had ten good years left until he was unable to walk. unable to move. he needed LOVE now. the clouds descended down and the rain fell heavily. cars swerved off of the roads. accidents were plenty. sirens were loud. chaos everywhere. dogs barking. kids screaming. girls fucking. men jerking. Jack Tait continued to ride. nothing would stop him. nothing would slow him down. cops wouldn’t get him this time. he knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.
he looked ahead and saw his long lost daughter sitting on the side of the road. she was alone. she was sad. she was wet from the rain. she was no longer twelve. she was thirty. time always flying by too quickly. Jack Tait sped up. he was forty feet away from her. forty. thirty. twenty. ten. nine. eight. seven. six. five. four. three. two. and…
Jack Tait woke up in a drunk tank. naked. alone. sad. his one lonely ball scraping the dirty floor in the dirty cell. he was sweaty. clammy. lost. lonely. unsure. depressed.
he only wanted to connect with his daughter.
he only wanted to love.
he only wanted to live.
he never wanted life to end.
he knew that one day he would NEVER see his daughter again.
he knew that one day he would NEVER see his daughter again.
he knew that one day he would NEVER see his daughter again.
Jack Tait was released and hopped on his blue tricycle. he rode east on the barren road back to his rundown farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. alone. sad. lost. confused.
he knew that one day he would NEVER see his daughter again.
notanotherphony. 