Donna's Circus

''F I R E D'' I knew it was coming, but the words still shocked me. I had been slacking off lately, missing hours of work for a little drink with James- or working the other job- mechanic, it doesn't pay well, but it makes ends meet.
Sh!t!
I had to get another job, Jesus Christ, I'll have to get the paper work, new suit- my current one was a tan grey top with an unidentified stain on it, my trousers had a bunch of holes in them, and my tie was the same one I wore while I was in secondary school.

Screen writer, no, I'll write some sh!tty stuff and get fired, which leads to more drinking, more pain and it just won't work. Full time mechanic? No shot, I'm an idiot and would have to take my GCSE again, I screwed up last time. Story writer. Now that- that sounds good.
'' Ashton, get out of my office this instant''
And just like that
Snap
Back to reality, no amazing jobs that give me a fortune, being able to afford a phycologist to help me stop drinking,
Nothing
And there I was, out on London high street walking out of the office that I had worked at for 4 years, a record. That's when a saw it. A poster. Floating, mesmerising. A poster for Donna's circus, it was a picture of a clown
What depressed b*stard thought of that name?
I wondered as I walked, and yet even as I walked further away, I felt closer to it, as if the poster was a dark force, begging to be awakened...

As I got home, misery flooded me, there it was, the dim, damp, ugly wallpaper that seemed to watch my every move. I put the tomato soup in the microwave- the colour always reminded me of that dream I had when I was 8, the blood dripping from the walls of my room.

Oh my god life was so much easier back then, not getting crook every other weekend because of all-nighters, sneaking on my ps4 when I was 13, God those were the days, and then dad left, the other kids used to bully me about it, Jesus Christ I must sound really depressed right now, I'm really not, I just don't have life figured out yet.

Fudge.
The electric meter is out. Great. Looks like salted peanuts from the bar again- or- hopefully Maccies if I scrape enough cash.

Needless to say, that evening was crap.

I woke up and I realised that I still didn't have a sustainable job,
Sleep can't fix anything kid, but it can postpone trouble,
That's what my old man used to say. And it was right. I jumped out of bed, well crawled, got on my skinny jeans, most people thought it was a style, it wasn't, I just couldn't afford XL jeans, and then I put on my red-hot chili peppers shirt on, I got it at garden sale just after I got my place, back then I thought I could do anything, get a great job as a business worker, maybe got a semi-hot wife and have 2 kids and settle down.
That plan kinda flopped
I thought as I shaved off the stubble with my Tesco brand foam.

I walked out of the house, not sure where to go, but I had all of my past experience behind me- which probably wasn't much to brag about, there was a group of nuns across the road, one of the pointed at me- they thought I couldn't see- and in less than 30 seconds, they were all sniggering at me.

I was looking at my phone when I saw it, I wasn't looking where I was going, but I didn't care. I stepped on it. I heard the crunch, that God damned crunch. I will never forget that as long as I live. I looked at it, my eyes were drawn to I didn't know why at the time. I saw it.
Donna's circus: looking for employment.

I know I thought it was stupid, but could I do it? I was hardly a clown, but I could light the stadium up? I was smart enough to do it, and maybe I could use my scarce mechanical skills to fix the transport vehicles?

I must have sounded like an absolute kid. Dreaming about some faraway job, who am I kidding? I'm a mild alcoholic and there are probably a bunch of other stuck- up moron 'trying to follow in their fathers' footsteps' get a bloody life kid. There's no easter bunny, no Santa, and guess what bud? Your worthless. Just a minuscule dot with a bunch of other miniscule dots floating around. I accepted that, I accepted that I was a worthless person, although my best friend, James, loves me like a brother, I just can't help but think that, heck, I don't even have a job that helps, all I do is tell some fat dude named Chuck his brakes don't work by a millisecond.