Dead Funny Season 1

2 Dec

Quick update on my latest project.

A man who has lost everything, and suffers from depression. What’s the natural thing to do? Obviously it’s try a new career in stand-up comedy.

I Have the title, been planning the plot for a few weeks now and just started the first start today. It’s going to be in the form of 6 episodes, and if the feedback is good then I’ll continue onto Season 2. I’m thinking lots of dark humour

“The lights were brighter, crowd seemed a lot more rowdy, the stage seemed bigger – everything was larger than it ever was before. Down here in the basement of the Camden Road Comedy Club in the heart of London, on this saturday night. But of course it wasn’t, the utter terror of my first comedy gig led me to see strange things, for one that’s my name down of the program, mine! Open Mic comedy nights were common place in this bar, every first monday of the month. I watched from back stage as a weedy kid with glasses had the crowd in his hands, everything he said he got a big reaction and one that didn’t end of with a pint all over him. He was funny, really funny. Shit! Everything he said seemed perfectly formed, moulded carefully, before being unleashed onto the audience – lapping up his every word. Setup, punchline, laugh. Setup, punchline, laugh. Shit! I jook a big gulp of my cider, slammed it down on a table next to me. Some spilt over the edge, soaking the table and everything on it. This wasn’t going down well I thought.”

 

image

 

Peace and Love

 

A few words that crept out my noggin’

6 Sep

I open my eyes, settling on the bright light coming in through the window. I didn’t know what it is, but it hurts when I look at it. I stare at it for as long as I can. Squinting, I put my hand in between the light and my eyes, this made it better. I knew what to do next, I knew what the routine everybody goes through when waking up in the morning. My routine was different. I knew you get out of bed, walk to the bathroom and have a shower. Fueling the body with food in order to do things the rest of the day, the boring chores of everyday life. The bathroom is next to my bedroom, a 5 second walk from my bed to the shower. I press the buzzer with my toes at the end of my bed, I can’t even use my hands as I’m pathetic – Special, I correct myself. I stare out the window and the light is still there, birds flying and performing their morning calls. I love birds. Love the sounds the make, do you know they talk to each other? They talk to me, we talk when I can’t sleep, and it helps me.

‘Ar-ar-are you ready to g-g-get up now sleepy head?’

I press the green button.

‘Hang-g-g on then.’

A woman enters the room. I’m not afraid as I recognize her face. Her long blonde hair, the nose, the ears that stick out just a little bit. The lines around her face, that get bigger on the top of her face and around her chin. She looks old. I know her as my friend. I run my finger along the metal bar along my bar. I like the cold feeling.

She embraces me and sits me up. I twist myself round and put my hand on the window, she gets on the bed and we sit together. Both of us staring out the window. I put my hand on the glass, the cold dirty glass. The glass is wet, but my hand doesn’t get wet. It must be on the outside.

S-s-shall we see how you’re doing today?

She reaches down and picks up the board again, this happens everyday, and I know it helps me. I don’t know why, but she says we need to do it.

She turns the pad to face me, and flips over the first page, and reads out the words; ‘Why name is…?’ She holds out one fingers, and says ‘Jack’, she holds out two fingers, then says Ben and holds out three fingers, before saying ‘Chris’. I pause. I press the button once. She smiles before turning the page over. She starts talking again, ‘How old am I?’ 5, 7 or 9? Holding out the corresponding fingers for each answer. I pause again, before pressing the button three times.

‘P-p-perfect’

She reaches out and puts her hand on my arm, I feel the heavy bracelet around her wrist scratch my arm. I don’t cry because I’m brave.

‘Making progress l-l-llittle man. Making p-p-progress’

I lay back down on the bed and close my eyes again. I sleep all the time, cats sleep a lot too. I like animals. Animals are much nicer than humans.

Mental Health Awareness Week – 12th – 18th May

18 May

It’s Mental Health Awareness Week this week, and you could sit here and read statistics about it all day, but it doesn’t read very positive.

To start with 1 in 4 people will experience some kind of mental health problem in the course of a year. 1 in 4. That’s pretty alarming.
British men are three times as likely to die by suicide than British women, and self-harm statistics for the UK show one of the highest rates in Europe: 400 per 100,000 population. Also petty alarming. Mental health is seen as a taboo, not spoken of very much, and seen as something ‘everyone else gets but me’, but the statistics show it’s more common than we think.

We’re not all superhuman, and sometimes we may need to ask for help. This week is important in the continued fight to take away the stigma when that time may arise, as well as showing that there is a way out. Asking for help is incredibly difficult, and something I will do when I’m ready, and something which will hopefully become slightly more easier over time.

Mind do a great job, and their website provides lots of information. Recommend checking it out for a few minutes (http://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/). One tip being doing more physical exercise, and something given this nice weather, I plan to do just that.

mind.org.uk

The Obsessive Joy Of Autism

14 Apr

Simply amazing.

Just Stimming...

I am autistic. I can talk; I talked to myself for a long time before I would talk to anyone else. My sensory system is a painful mess, my grasp on language isn’t always the best, and it takes me quite some time to process social situations. I cannot yet live on my own or manage college or relationships successfully. I can explain, bemoan, and wish away a lot of things about me and my autism: my troubles finding the right words to say what I really mean, my social processing lag and limits, my rubbery facial expressions, my anxiety, my sensory system’s dysfunctions, my brain’s tendency to get stuck in physical self-destruct mode and land me in the ER. I can complain about the suckiness of being socialized and educated as an autistic and as an outsider, about lack of supports and understanding and always needing to educate.

One…

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04/04/2014

4 Apr

I really can’t do loud places. I know there’s something wrong with me, starting to really think it now. Anywhere with more than 1 or 2 people talking and I just have to escape, doesn’t even after if I’ve known them all my life. Right now I’m in my room playing ‘Somewhere Over the rainbow’ for the 10th time in a row. She’s beautiful, I want to be like her. Except I can’t because I’m not a woman. I like rainbows.

Greg.

03/04/2014

3 Apr

‘Hello’, a word used when you greet somebody. Perhaps greet them in from a cold walk, a late night trip from the pub, or anything normal people do. How incredibly apt that it contains the ‘hell’ within it, as I really can’t start speaking to anybody. Apart from myself that is, I can talk to myself for hours – sometimes even the odd arguement. But we won’t tell anybody now will we, WILL WE? You upstairs? Moving on, I’m Greg, and here’s three things you might like to know about me;

One – Music calms me down. Ever since I was a child, locking myself in my room and playing my favourite songs over and over again would stop my rages from engulfing the universe. Stopping the ‘crazy moments’ from causing utter chaos. Then one Sunday, my uncle was over for lunch and I overheard this mesmerising sound resonating from the living room and found him playing an old guitar for my nan and gramps. My god! It sent me into that same trance like state.
I bugged him for years to teach me and now I play to cLm myself down whenever I need to.

Two – I talk to myself to keep my sane. I know that sounds frankly bizarre as the sight of a strange man talking to himself on the bus brings a picture rather opposite of somebody sane. Why waste time talking to somebody else, somebody who doesn’t give you answers you want, when you have a safer bet standing right next to you. He’s always there, standing next to me – just me and him against the whole, confusing world.

Three – I make lists, lots of lists. It helps me to understand the things going on in my head, the things other people find simple like getting up and brushing my teeth. I need them out of my head so there’s room for my big ideas to become ever bigger ideas.

Next adventure

17 Mar

Post it notes galore, sorting the plan for my debut novel. How far will you go to get away from the one you loved – 1000 miles? #amwriting

Number 1

16 Mar

Decided to start a new mission, release a collection of flash fiction stories – short stories under 1000 words. Here is my first, titled ‘Is it done now, Daddy?’

When you’re told by a man you met only 3 weeks ago in this very room that you have only a 2% chance of living, you’re given a wildcard to do absolutely anything you want. Should you feel the need to, that is, because like me you might have lost your fight, along with your chance of seeing Christmas. I walked out the hospital and into the Forrest adjacent, striding round like a lawyer thinking up the next move for his client. Just then I saw something, laying on the ground, looking really quite upset, was a stuffed toy – a green rabbit. I immediately picked it up and walked straight back to the hospital, a child must have dropped it when visiting a grandad or grandma, I thought. What child can go without the thing that keeps them going I thought, glancing down at a picture of my family portrait taken last year, well them soon enough, I thought. I stepped inside the reception area, the place I swore to never return to just ten minutes ago. There was a wheelchair, a tiny pink wheel chair against the wall – crouched over was a man, clearly her dad, and what looked like her mum talking fast, and really quite in a panicked state to the woman behind the reception. I didn’t hear what was wrong, but as I approached the girl I could see she was also in tears, rolling down her face, dampening the top of the white dress she had on. Without thinking I approached the girl and her dad, looking startled when I appeared. I crouched down to her dads level, and I held up the rabbit and shook it as if I was awakening it from a hungover- fuelled coma. “I believe this little man has lost it’s mummy, would you like to take care of him. I think he needs a cuddle.” Immediately the tears stopped and the biggest smile appeared, mum running over and embracing him. “She’s about to go into surgery, and without Henry she wouldn’t go. Thank you so much.” Bending down and wiping her tears away, “Henry is here now, you can both have a sleep while they make you better.” I wiped a tear away now too.
I got home and did nothing but sleep for the next week, until Friday morning when something inside me made me want to read a newspaper. I walked down the to newsagent and bought a copy of the times and a four pack of Carling. I started reading it straight away when I got home – still arguing about the new office blocks opposite, someone from Camden won the lottery on Friday, nothing to change my life. Until I got to page 39, just there at the bottom of the page, hitting me like a bus “Gemma Hoskins – 12th January 2010 – 10th March 2014. Gemma past away with her family at her side, listening to her favourite song, with Henry by her side. We would like to find the man who bought Henry back, and thank him for making a very ill girl happy in her final hours. We miss you so much already darling x” I picked up my phone and started dialling the number that had been calling me for the past week. ‘Hello darling, It’s your dad,’ in between tears, ‘I’ve got some bad news.’

My ideas

14 Mar

Been racking my brain for new ideas, this one has formed so far.

“Danny found out the hard way that sometimes, just sometimes, things just don’t get better. After splitting up with his partner and being kicked out his house in the space of a week, he decides radical changes are needed. So a new adventure begins, meeting some amazing people along the way. With with just a bike, a tent and a guitar, where will it take him and will he get his life back in order? “

Rough draft finally finished. Booyakasha!

21 Feb

I THINK I’ve finished my rough draft, at just over 6000 words it gives me over 1000 to play with to hit my 7500 target. Planning to spent another month adding in lines, tidying up little bits and perfecting it. Another month of coffee, and excuses to spent cold weekends in bed.

Side note – heard the new song from Paloma Faith today, sounds amazing. New album out the first week in March, expecting her to do the festival circuit.