Chris McLoughlin – SST9 draft 2(ish)

18 Jun

Started again – didn’t believe in what I’d written.

Also, after thinking about what I wanted from this performance, I realised it was fine, but wasn’t addressing anything really, or not enough.

Therefore, this is the outline of my new draft – it needs filling in, more of that imagery stuff, and a clear narrative running through – I aim to do this in the following week and hopefully have another draft up sometime mid-next week.

He lives in a carnival world

(two word descriptions – e.g. clown car chases, etc)

Where colour floats like riverboats down paved roads

And the people paint themselves every colour

They paint it thick, oil-like, so there’s no holes

Under their animals masks.

Growing up, his feet were too big for his socks

Big toe-ing an escape through cheap cotton

His hands twice the size of grapefruits

A painted smile

A born clown.

He lives in a carnival world

Where the streets vibrate to the thundering bassline

Where shop windows are art galleries

And art galleries are closed.

But there’s uppers, downers, all arounders,

And Reddit, cricket and Eastenders.

He’s too small to see over shoulders

Only catching glimpses of the passing floats.

He lives in a carnival world

But last night, after a bottle of wine and ten cigarettes

His mask broke,

And though he glued it back together

The cracks still show

So he doesn’t make it to work the next day,

Calls in sick

Doesn’t leave his flat of warm grey

In case people notice the cracks

He lives in a carnival world

(more about depression and anxiety getting worse)

He died in a carnival world

Alone and scared

Too afraid to show his underneath

Even though we all have the same

Too much shame to show

His name wasn’t Robin Williams

But it could have been

His name wasn’t lil’ Chris

But it could have been

His name wasn’t (?)

But it could have been

Nobody remembers his name, because he wasn’t famous                           (rhyme- fame)

Everyone was so busy being busy

They never asked him his name

His grave just reads

‘here lies the broken mask

Of somebody who could have been.’

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