It's a typical Saturday night, when I get a phone call to
do a job for a painter. I usually spend my days on the couch waiting for
anything such as the wind to change direction, my life is unsatisfactory and
repetitive. I do odd jobs for people, one I am most famous for is being a clown
and the kids seem to love me. So the guy is on the phone and he says that he’s
seen something in the paper about what I do and tells me to meet him later that
night. As I am getting ready for the night it seems almost comical, he wants me
to go into a nice restaurant and sit there while he paints, I will be a loner
but what’s new. Anything for the money, I remind myself. I light a cigarette
and get in the car, and when I get to the restaurant I think twice about going
in but I open my car door anyways in protest to myself.
When I get to the table there are other painters
there, they invite me in and make me feel like I belong even though I am the
only one in this place dressed like a freak. I have always admired artists,
they understand and feel everything in the world and even more, I could be an
artist I silently think to myself. He’s painting in the corner away from
everyone else I can tell he’s lost in the painting and he is probably lonely himself.
Finally I understand why I am here for, to capture the loneliness everyone
feels, it’s a reflection of myself and others. I am honored to be here to share
this loneliness with these other people.
I think a clown as a symbol of loneliness is very striking and one most people can interestingly relate to: "Finally I understand why I am here for, to capture the loneliness everyone feels, it’s a reflection of myself and others."
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