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What you do when you have been rejected by David Bowie

This is Linsday Kemp the mime artist when he knew 'it' was over because appranently he could hear the 'white duke' with his shenanigans in the dressing room next door,

"I drank a bottle of whiskey and rode my bicycle into the sea, but the water was so cold I staggered back to the theatre and cut my wrist. They found me slumped on the floor. A few hours after being taken to hospital, I was on stage, blood seeping through my Pierrot costume – a fabulous dramatic effect, but I'd been desperately in love."
Source: the Guardian

Don't you just love 'theatrical' people, God bless them, where would one be without such infantile fantasists

I mean here we are, hangng in space, marooned on a moving circular ball, with millions, billions of other moving balls stretching out into infinity and eternity, a realisation that is quite hard to take, don't you think?

So the image of a 'theatrical' riding his bicylce into the sea after consuming a bottle of whisky, one presumes for Dutch courage, gives one great succour in the face of one's galactic isolation.

Then to read,  that our potential suicider was out of the freezing briny a bit lively, adds great relish, 'a bit too nippy, for me
Ducky.'

Thank God, for all those academic dimwits, the theatricals, where we be without them.

 

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