love?

another week gone.  another day gone.  another month gone.  another year gone.  time flying by quicker as Jack Tait got older.  he was once a promising young man filled with hopes and dreams but now sits in his rundown farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and passes gas.  he has been lonely and alone for the last thirty years but he never wanted it to end this way.  or begin that way.  or to be this way or that.  he merely lived day to day and ended up lonely and alone with one nut dragging down onto his shitty carpet.  the one nut holding his fragile confidence together.  he knew that life would end one day but he always felt that there would be better days ahead until the better days were behind.  his wrinkled hands and wrinkled legs telling him that life is on the downward turn.  turning and twisting.  twisting and turning.  anxiety.  depression.  depression and anxiety.  coupled with booze issues and adhd and possibly bipolar left Jack Tait fragile.  fragile but angry.  angry at the system for never helping him.  angry at himself for allowing dumb rules by dumb people to limit him.  but he always knew, deep down, that his life was in his hands NOT god’s.  at any point in his miserable life he could CHANGE.  he could stop looking outward and start looking inward.  and in his looking inward he would see the light.  the light and the tunnel.  the tunnel and the light.

“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLPPPPPPP!!!”

“somebody help me!!!!!!”

BUT NOBODY DID.

his life was now in his hands the way his life was then in his hands.  he always had a saying and he repeated it daily.  a daily positive manifestation.

“FUCK EVERYONE.”

“FUCK EVERYONE.”

“FUCK EVERYONE.”

positive words to live by in a rather less than positive life.  positive in life and positive in death but very few words of encouragement from outside forces.

Jack Tait was the poster boy for “EXTREME OWNERSHIP.”

he looked in the mirror.  he was naked.  he was drunk.  he was alone.

he said, “NOBODY CARES MORE ABOUT ME THAN ME SO STOP WORRYING WHAT OTHER’S THINK.  STOP LISTENING TO OTHER PEOPLE’S WORDS.  STOP TAKING ADVICE FROM OTHER’S.  NOBODY CARES MORE ABOUT MY LIFE THAN ME.  MOI.  GROW A BIG PAIR OF BALLS AND DESPITE MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES AND DESPITE LOVE YOU MUST FUCKING LAY DOWN THE LAW AND LAY IT DOWN WITH BIG BALLS AND BIG FLAWS.  FLAWS.  FLAWS.  FLAWS.  EVERY FUCKING PERSON IN THIS WORLD IS FLAWED SO FUCKING DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO AND DO IT BIG.  IF YOU DON’T START DOING IT THEN YOU WILL DIE SAD AND ALONE.  ALL ALONE WITH A BLUE TRICYCLE AND ONE BIG BLUE BALL.  A BLUE BALL THAT WAS ONCE BLUE BALLS.  BUT YEARS OF MASTURBATING AND YEARS OF SICKNESS AND YEARS OF DRINKING AND YEARS OF CYCLING HAVE LESSENED THE BIG BLUE BALLS BUT ALSO TURNED BALLS INTO ONE.  SO FUCK EVERYONE AND JUST DO IT.”

Jack Tait now felt better and decided to shower and head into the big city.  he wanted to connect with the people he once hid from.  he once listened to.  he once paid for advice on his life.  he showered and quickly threw on his shitty clothes and exited his shitty house.  he was a man on a mission.  “FUCK EVERYONE.  I HAVE TO KEEP REMINDING MYSELF TO FUCK EVERYONE!!!!”

Jack Tait hopped on his blue tricycle and rode down his long barren driveway and turned right.  he was told by peasants that some people swipe right but he never had to swipe.  he fucked.  he fucked hard and he fucked many.  he was a man in what has become a boys world.  little pretty boys pretending to be artists and their fairy girlfriends following them with their big fucking phones in their tiny hands.  “FUCK EVERYONE.  FUCK EVERYONE.  FUCK EVERYONE!!!”

 

Jack Tait was filled with a new sense of purpose.  a new found confidence.  after thirty years of talking to dull psychologists and taking dulling pills Jack Tait, at the ripe old age of sixty one, was about to showcase himself and show people who he really is.  show the world that he is not a puppet on a string watching dull people move dull buildings and drinking dull beers.  he is a smart man with a smart mind and a big heart.  tortured heart.  but big and tortured.  a tortured man with a checkered past.  flawed but filled with love.  he is not a monster.  he was never a monster.  sometimes his Mom told him that he was.  and sometimes she told him that he was great.  contradictory messages in a contradictory life.  “FUCK EVERYONE.”  “FUCK EVERYONE.”  “FUCK EVERYONE.”

 

he rode fast.  he rode hard.  he was sweating and naked.  restless and real.  not dull and phony.  he rode past many bunny rabbits and many potholes.  old decaying roads beside old decaying farm fences on abandoned properties.  life continuing to move on while there were daily deaths and daily sorrow.  Monday.  Tuesday.  Wednesday.  Thursday.  Friday.  Saturday.  and finally Sunday.  seven days in a week.  thirty days in a month.  three hundred and sixty five days in a year and then one day you wake up and you are alone wondering what happened to your life.  wondering what happened to your wife.  wondering what happened to your kids.  “FUCK EVERYONE.”  “FUCK EVERYONE.”  “FUCK EVERYONE.”

Jack Tait rode and rode and rode.  it was now rainy and cold.  the wind and the rain blowing in Jack’s face.  his red face becoming redder and redder with each breath.  he turned left and then right and then left again and then he suddenly stopped.  he saw her.  he looked her in the eye.  he refused to back down this time the way he had backed down for sixty plus years.  BUT NOT THIS TIME.  he stared at her.  she stared at him.  Jack at sixty one.  his Mom at eighty one.  both haggard and weathered.  both lonely and lost.

they stared.  and stared and stared.  the sun was nowhere to be found.  the rain falling heavier and heavier.  the wind blowing harder and harder.

Jack Tait said, “what?  what did you want to tell me Mom?”

his Mom paused.

silence.

stillness.

love?

then his Mom opened her mouth.

“I TOLD YOU JACK.  I TOLD YOU.”

“you told me what???”

“ONLY THE TALENTED MAKE IT.”

his Mom then turned her back on Jack and walked away.  she always liked walking.  walking and talking.  Jack silent and scared once again.

Jack Tait jumped back on his blue tricycle and slowly rode back home.  his sagging ball hanging lower than before.  he rode and rode.  his Mom walked and walked.  a life once filled with so much hope and so much love still left in shame and still left in fear.  Jack Tait rode up his long barren driveway and jumped off of his blue tricycle.  he opened the front door of his shitty house and went directly to the mirror in his bathroom.

“FUCK EVERYONE.  FUCK EVERYONE.  FUCK EVERYONE.  FUCK EVERYONE  FUCK EVERYONE.  FUCK EVERYONE.  FUCK EVERYONE.  FUCK EVERYONE.  FUCK EVERYONE.”

He then collapsed on the floor in tears.  lonely.  alone.  naked.  naked and alone.

love.

love?

 

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