Group 2: Treatment

Loyle Carner - Mufasa

Loyle Carner at Latitide

Mufasa and Simba

 Sitting deep in thought on a train with an unknown location, the youth cannot help but to come to the realization that his life has been turned upside down in the matter of a few months. The drone of the trains continuous movement and the ever passing of fields, trees and buildings forever knocking at the eroding wall of significance which is beginning to crumble. Staring out the window in an endless daze, the young adult thinks tirelessly of his late Father with a multitude of emotions. Partly, he was annoyed, he couldn’t understand why, if there was a God, would he have chosen to take his Father. His family didn’t deserve to be plunged into this epidemic of chaos and panic. However, at the same time, this could be fate. Ben knew he was the oldest sibling and due to a moralled and proper upbringing he knew that it was now his responsibility to take care of his Mother and close family. This responsibility on top of the grief he was currently experiencing felt never ending and quite frankly he couldn’t cope. Perhaps this is why he felt annoyed. Why couldn’t he step up to the task of fathering his family? Surely ever person who cares about someone enough has the capability to look after and nurture them? No?

Apparently not. Obviously the 17 year olds’ school and friends offered immeasurable support, unfortunately this still wasn’t enough to conquer and overcome the rubble of a state his mind had been left in. He couldn’t cope to go home from school every night and attempt to sleep whilst ignoring the fact his own Mother was crying from grief in the next room. His younger brother, Sidney was too young to understand but this didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt. The opposite. Ben had to somehow ignore his younger brother call for his father every morning and instead leave to go to school, and study subjects which even if did bring success, would never compensate for the replenishment of his family. Instead, he drank to try and numb the pain, which left him in states of disarray and distanced himself even further from conventional society. Ben was an up and coming British musician with a fruitful future but the last thing he wanted to ever do was to go back to a passion which reminded himself so much of his father’s raw enthusiasm and kind natured support. His music dreams felt like Mufasa and Simba. His father holding him high in the air so he could see for himself and achieve success. Without his father holding him, he couldn’t see for himself. Instead a numb and senseless indication retreated Ben to the safety of his broken home where he would frustrate himself for hours attempting to write new lyrics but ever failing to do so. Not due to loss of talent, simply because at this moment in time his mind too occupied to be thinking about music. Ben just couldn’t see this.

 He sat on the train watching the locations pass by connoting how time passes so quickly and easily. These thoughts viciously interrupted by the abrupt realization of his Father’s grave left standing alone in the graveyard. His father had never liked to be left alone without his family. Ben’s knowledge of this rubbed salt into the wounds of his open guilt. Ben didn’t know why he felt guilty. He’d done nothing wrong, it wasn’t his fault? Nevertheless, continuous reminders of this prompted anger which attempted to rise up and overcome the sodden loneliness he constantly felt on his shoulders. Never succeeding. Ben was tired and struggled to stay awake, this a combination of multiple nights of no sleep and ridiculous overthinking. He constantly looked for a release, guidance, this only encouraging the amount he missed his dad. He sat in the corner of the carriage, immune to anyone’s opinions, he didn’t care what anyone thought. This could explain the lack of smartness his attire possessed, he constantly felt cold and the need to wrap up, admittedly, the weather wasn’t great but this didn’t excuse the large coat he wore as if protecting himself from society’s views. His struggles partially desensitized with each sip he took of the drink. For much of his time it had seemed a case of him and his bottle vs the world. For much of the time this was the case with his friends and teachers constantly pestering him to lighten up – things will get better they often retorted. But would they though?