Kevin Rose


I am listening to a Heavy Metal song with the line “my life is over but I’d do the same again”

I have damaged my right hand. It is in a support my legs feel very stiff and walking is difficult I navigate my way through shops. There’s some waste ground and I am lying in a bank next to it with a woman from the arts council. She says we could build a performance space there, but not for £15k, which is the largest grant I could get. I suggest an open circus style tent. A temporary structure. I mention that there’s not really anywhere suitable in the South West for theatre in the round.
She’s very interested by this. She’s now naked and wants sexual favours to help with my application. She has freckles so dark she looks like a Trill symbiant from Star Trek. Other people are talking to us. A family. One of he kids asks me where his exam will be. I answer like I know, then tell him I was lying.
I am walking with my painful arm again. I am outside my first loves house. I think she’s moved away but she sees me and starts to come to the door. I am arguing with Kevin Rose, who is my critical voice. We are watched by another Kevin Rose who just listens, thinking and analysing. I shout at them both. I’d smash my phone if it belonged to me.
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