Jack of Clubs

My dear _______,

You don’t want to hear ‘this’, but I will tell you none-the-less. It’s only right, though you will have to keep this secret. Jack is lost. He already knows how you will hurt him, so just let him disappear. Now, I’ve said it.

Jack is jack-nothing to you. There’s no future. You like him as nothing, more, nothing more. Jack blames you, the one who takes his call. He now sees that you are the problem – He is just, he is just a symptom. You make too much of him. You make something ‘other’ of him. It is unreasonable. It’s jack. Just jack. This cannot continue. Let it fade to black. Leave the theater. Forget the secret utterance that signals “I am lost now” … Knowing, it would be easier to remember the madness, les sottise de valet… Pardon my jack-French -- I apologize.

(jack)I …
become tiresome.
(jack)I …
remain mysterious.
(jack)I …
Already lost.
(jack)I …
saying nothing.
(jack)I.
Jack
Just stops.

Like you, Jack must take a stand. You will call him selfish because of it, but he just doesn’t care anymore. Carefree.

Three facts:
1. Jack will not.
2. She will not.
3. We will.

Everything around Jack means nothing. There is no measure so Jack lets loose. He becomes hopeless; secreting what is felt in the blood and bones to see if he can trigger something beyond himself. My sorry Jack of Hearts bleeds. The hopeless hopes there is a witness. The nameless wishes to remain anonymous. The romantic looks for an interpreter to read the cuneiform, to decipher these cuts; an historian to remember the deluge.

Jack pillages the future from all this cosmic trash … Blinded by the unexplainable…
So, continue.

Find
‘this’