The Stones had it nailed. If you try, you get what you need. Trying is key. If you don’t try, you won’t get anywhere. It’s silly to lay dormant; to not grasp at every opportunity given to you. We have one go at this big stage show – better to break the barriers, take the risks and have no regrets.

As a writer, I find myself over-thinking, hesitating and holding back. That said, my hesitancy and tendency to over-analyse often leads to my ‘inaction’. This is a perfect follow up to my previous blog post, wherein I’d spoken about shelving old work. I suppose it’s a similar anecdote – in that you must have confidence, drive and passion in all aspects of both your personal and professional life.

Recently I took a chance and made a pitch to my superiors in work. I took a risk. I outlined a marketing plan, a plan that I can implement from my years of experience freelancing. I suppose it was part of my ‘Resolutions’, in that I’d take more risks, grab more opportunities and do more for myself.

Whether or not these opportunities deliver themselves to us entirely; we can rest assured that we tried.

Perseverance  will lead to great things.

Arms, fingers, legs & toes crossed.

TTFN,

x

No shit, Sherlock. Ten years, are ten years. Of course a lot is going to happen. The question is, once you fizz through all of the meaningless shite which passes for ‘news’ and ‘occurrence’ in contemporary society – what exactly are you left with?

Well, historic events for one. What galls me, is that for some mind-buggering reason – such atrocities as (unfortunately, the following is NOT what you would expect to follow the word atrocity) Jade Goody’s death, the rise and fall of Katie Price and Peter Andre, the revival of Take That, the cancellation of Top of the Pops and even as far as Who shot Phil Mitchell?; just sadly, don’t cut it for this writer of sorts.

Granted, for some – these may seem monumental. But come on people. I hate to preach to the converted, because more than likely (and let’s be honest) if you’re scrolling through the blogosphere, at least two things are guaranteed. One being, you’re not pandering through some glossy mag, and the second being that you’re not currently glued to the soaps. Lots has happened, and lots will continue to happen. The noughties brought about a lot of conflict and many freak environmental disasters. The world as we know it, is ever increasingly changing and we’re blind to it. Blind to it because of the trash, filth and utter bollocks which passes for newsworthy in this age.

I ask you brothers and sisters, to stand up and convert all idiocy into awareness. All depravity, into desire to at least want to notice the changes in both our social and environmental world. Drop the glossys, switch off Corrie and fucking take note. Things are happening. You’re missing it.

Now, maybe I’m being ridiculous. Maybe it’s Warren Zevon playing in my ears, or maybe it’s the beer talking – but didn’t we seem to just tune out in the noughties?

It’s time to tune  back in again.

It’s been a very rough year, for a lot of us. I can only hope that by awakening ourselves, we’ll be better suited to dealing with the year to come.

My love to you all, and wishes of best – in what I hope will be a year where we start to take notice.

TTFN&AHNY,

x

I’ve just experienced a week of ache, pain and close to complete loss of faith in the human race. Never before have I been subjected to such abuse, hatred and unrest. No joke; I’ve been berated with a man with a prosthetic limb, to the extent that he took it off and shook it at me… I’ve had people call me ‘cunt’, ‘bastard’ and ‘wanker’. I’ve experience the wrath of old ladies – sweet and docile looking old ladies, who have seen it necessary to brandish their sticks and umbrellas at me, and tell me to ‘fuck off, back home’. Ridiculous. You’d swear they thought I was a banker.

Not only was the job an emotional kick in the teeth every five minutes, but also the hours were long, wet, cold and unsavoury. With my existing back problems, my condition only worsened during the week and the inevitable happened – it amplified. Every night I was going home bent double, literally lying in my hallway for around an hour recuperating… My pain, was followed by lack of sleep, amplified stress and a pair of very chapped lips…

Now, I know, I know – I seem like a tit. A silly beggar who moaned and groaned about not being able to get a job, yadda, yadda, yadda…

But, having popped into a lovely little Coffee/Tea place called ‘Brewhaha’, I (in quite an off-the-bat manner) asked if they’d any jobs going… Turned out they did. And seeing as I didn’t have my CV there and then… I told them I’d pop in the following morning. So I did… And they very quickly offered me a job. For a little less money than the previous job, I have a routine, pleasant clientele, an apron, warmth and stability. And my health.

Yes, I’m silly in ways. But it feels right. So, I’m doing it. That simple.

I’ve been working on ideas surrounding the creation of ‘Philip & Paul’ the Show. Watch this space… Could be posting to a blog near you, very very soon.

Hope ya’ll are well. I miss properly blogging!

Bring on stability, eh?

TTFN,

x

There is one set-back however, which I so humorously discovered whilst stepping out of the shower this morning. As I dried my marvellous visage – I encountered an extremely appetising smell… In thinking that it was someone cooking, I ventured into the kitchen (towelled up of course) to find nothing and noone. Suddenly it hit me… I’d made seafood pasta the evening prior and due to my generous helpings of garlic – I’d unintentionally poisoned my washing with the smell of garlic.

Not the best state of affairs for someone attending job interviews and such at this current moment in time! I’ll be forever remembered as ‘smelly garlic guy’. Awesome…

I’d a strange encounter with a guy in a wheelchair the other morning. Now, disabilities aren’t something I often speak about. Mostly because I don’t have many disabled friends or moreso due to the fact that I don’t like to segregate individuals into ‘groups’. It’s something we all do – however this argument is irrelevant to my story.

Whilst walking along, minding my own business, happily toodling away listening to David Mamet talking about the Unit on a podcast I’d stolen from Mark – I was almost mowed over by a gentleman in a wheelchair. Actually, a gentleman he was not – for he almost ran myself and a small girl over in his mobility vehicle. Rushing to cross the road before the lights changed. Such a steep slope and treacherous corner that he manoevered… I’m surprised no-one was hurt. Now, I bit my tongue before I spoke – but I almost let out a yelp of distasteful proportion. On the tip of my tongue, was the outburst much to the sound of ‘HEY! You trying to put me into one of those things!?’

Now, I’ve battled with myself over whether or not this would have been a rational, more so a politically correct thing to say – but I’m remaining steadfast – in that I would’ve said something similar to any person, whether on foot or wheels, in a car or on a bicycle. It was a very dangerous act, which could have caused serious injury.

Silly man. (You can really tell how much I’ve been battling with that almost-slip-of-the-tongue, can’t you?)

I’m exceptionally tired and very much sleep deprived – I’ve not been sleeping well at all… Kind of a step backwards to the Philip of yesteryear. But, in a bid to curb my insomnia – I’ve been up all night and shall continue to stay awake until this evening upon my return from acting class. Then, I’ll crash the ultimate crash. Sleep the ultimate sleep. And dream…well, dream the mediocrity of which my dreams are usually made up from. I’ve been having bizarre dreams about acting onstage with none other than Glenn Close. Ms. Close has been of particular interest to me lately, due to her appearance in the Shield. An absolute riotous performance, stomping down on the ingrates and scoundrels of Farmington. Great television.

I”ve one season of the Shield left, before it’s all over. I bought the first season of Damages to wean me off Vic Mackey and the sheer brilliance of the show…

Walton Goggins, is an absolute gift to the show also – much previously unknown before the Shield, with only a few minor roles – Goggins shines as Shane Vendrell, Mackey’s Southern sidekick. A very talented guy.

On a further note – I’m making some friends. It’s going reasonably well. Whilst at the park yesterday, I made two new friends. One was a squirrel called Paul and the other was a pigeon called Dave. At first, Paul was a tad apprehensive about approaching. He was a bit of a nasty little bugger to start, trying to bite me and biting my iPhone. But soon he calmed down and came and sat down beside me and we talked about politics.

Oddly, Dave was a female pigeon who was involved in an affair with Paul. She was eating seeds which lay on the ground. She didn’t say much at all really. Paul was a bit torn between what to do – as he loved Dave, but had a deeper, more profound love for his wife and kids.

Paul saw sense today after a long discussion with myself about the matter and decided to go back to Sandra, his Squirrel wife and Billy and Sue, their little Squirrel children.

Dave and Paul fought for a while, before Dave turned on me. She pecked at me and targeted me with her faeces. Thankfully she missed – although, I had hoped that she wouldn’t as I need all the luck I can get in procuring employment in this current economic climate – another matter which I had discussed with Paul. He agreed that there was just ‘nothing going’. He’s also on the dole. After we sign on next week, we’re going to see a film. Then perhaps for coffee – we don’t know just yet.

Above is Paul, for your viewing pleasures. Also, proof that he isn’t a figment of my imagination. I have to do that now and again. I tend to have a lot of conversations with myself over here! My imaginary friends are beginning to worry…

Anyway – enough of my rants for one day. I hope all is well with everyone out there!

Peace,

x

What’s troubling me now, is the financial and of course, artistic element of my life in Glasgow.

I’m enrolled for Acting Classes to strengthen my skills and I’ve sent CV’s and Writing Samples to a number of Glaswegian theatres. I’m wondering what more I can do creatively, in order to gain as much as I can from this Gap Year.

I imagine most of my time will be spent working, reading lots, writing lots and watching lots. I plan to establish a routine very quickly in order to acheive my full potential and make the most of my move.

Moving ou of my parents’ house and relocating to Scotland as daunting as it now seems to me, will no doubt provide the foundations for my prospective career. Well, here’s hoping

But for now; ‘Coffee’.

G’day.

x

I have given you lots of money for iPods, Macs, iPhones and such over the years – so now I think it’s time that you give me some back. After all – I am a worthy candidate and between you and I – I would much rather work in a lovely, fun and vibrant setting such as an Apple Store than to sit in a grey, bleak office answering telephones all day long.

Where Apple is concerned, I am the preacher and the Windows peasants are the choir. Let me convert manys a sufferer of the impending plague (Windows 7) and the more notorious leprosy (Vista). Allow me this great opportunity to educate, inform, learn and earn with your lovely brand.

I’d be a valuable asset to your team and you can rest assured that my wage will be spent wisely. In your store of course!

So, please. Give this poor Northern Irish techno-freak a chance to earn a living. Don’t force him to have to take a job where he has to state at a ruddy PC all day long. *Shudder*

Yours sincerely,

Mr. Philip J Larkin

(BA Hons & Apple-Enthusiast-Extraordinaire)

I’ve searched high and low for jobs in the area, however I’m either over-qualified for one job or under-qualified for another. I’m having to come to terms with the fact that my degree isn’t getting me anywhere as of yet. It’s irritating, as I’d imagined myself getting an internship or something at least with a BA Hons in Drama. But, nothing. Like I said before, I’m distributing my work for free in the hope that someone will read it and enjoy it, and perhaps decide to stage it. I can’t apply for runners jobs within the Beeb because I’m not 23 yet. I’m reduced to peddling my CV and writing to all accepting theatres and theatre companies. I’m not saying I’m ‘better than that’ or anything, don’t get me wrong – I’m just a little surprised that my silly degree hasn’t landed me with a stronger career option at this moment in time.

I’ve got a telephone interview for a call centre sometime next week. Based in Glasgow City Centre, I’d be earning rent money really and hopefully a little extra in order to start a savings fund for the MA next year.

In short – I have to grow up. In a very, VERY short space of time. It’s very daunting really. I’m not used to being totally self-sufficient and it’ll certainly take a while to grow accustomed to. But I’ll get there in the end. Hopefully…

Mark’s viewing a place today. I’ve a good feeling about it – as it’s very lovely looking. I’ll keep you posted.

Over & Out.

x

Along with such distractions – a ten year old brother lurking with lego, loud things and playstations; just tips the balance. Also, there’s the ‘glass’ patrol in the shape of my father. Did you leave this glass here? Did you leave this glass there? To which my silent nod in response, is sub-loaded with fury at which I want to scream ‘Yes! Because I am still sitting here and would like to pour myself another drink in the not so distant future!’. Also, that the scatter of beakers is much to do with my avoiding the unpleasant rooms in which the ‘obstacles’ reside.

Along with that – my parents fill cupboards with junk food and things that one wouldn’t eat normally – but because they are there, it’s convenient. Handy, if you will. And I do. Indulge, that is. Hobnobs, peanuts, Jaffa Cakes, Crisps – and all of the other horrible things, which I’m prone to BUT would never buy myself.

I mean, in all fairness – it isn’t all bad. I’m painting a very bleak and spoilt picture here; but in all truth, my house is lovely and my parents are lovely, and my brothers are lovely AND I’m very lucky to be living rent free in a house where my meals are provided and my washing is done for me. But it’s not the place for a writer.

A writer; WELL, ‘I’ as a writer, need(s) routine and a steady and concentrated diet of Non-Shite foodstuffs, a quiet and darkened writing area and a place to escape to. Here; Sadly I’m not getting any of this.

Which is the reason behind my move, even despite not having procured funding for the MA. Don’t worry about the MA, I’ll try again next year.

My plan is now, to get a job, earn some money and hone my writing in the meantime. And what better way to do that, than in my own space with a fellow writer in a house full of Apple Macs. The House of Mac, will thus forth be known as The House of Scripture.

I’ve also had a bought of reality; in thinking that as a graduate and experienced theatre practitioner – I’d have no problem getting a job in an area close to home. Thing is; there are no jobs. Theatre jobs. Production jobs. Not even a job as a runner. WTF?

Today, I’m writing some content. AND writing up a ‘civilian’ CV, so I can start applying for REAL jobs.

TTFN,

x

Along with such distractions – a ten year old brother lurking with lego, loud things and playstations; just tips the balance. Also, there’s the ‘glass’ patrol in the shape of my father. Did you leave this glass here? Did you leave this glass there? To which my silent nod in response, is sub-loaded with fury at which I want to scream ‘Yes! Because I am still sitting here and would like to pour myself another drink in the not so distant future!’. Also, that the scatter of beakers is much to do with my avoiding the unpleasant rooms in which the ‘obstacles’ reside.

Along with that – my parents fill cupboards with junk food and things that one wouldn’t eat normally – but because they are there, it’s convenient. Handy, if you will. And I do. Indulge, that is. Hobnobs, peanuts, Jaffa Cakes, Crisps – and all of the other horrible things, which I’m prone to BUT would never buy myself.

I mean, in all fairness – it isn’t all bad. I’m painting a very bleak and spoilt picture here; but in all truth, my house is lovely and my parents are lovely, and my brothers are lovely AND I’m very lucky to be living rent free in a house where my meals are provided and my washing is done for me. But it’s not the place for a writer.

A writer; WELL, ‘I’ as a writer, need(s) routine and a steady and concentrated diet of Non-Shite foodstuffs, a quiet and darkened writing area and a place to escape to. Here; Sadly I’m not getting any of this.

Which is the reason behind my move, even despite not having procured funding for the MA. Don’t worry about the MA, I’ll try again next year.

My plan is now, to get a job, earn some money and hone my writing in the meantime. And what better way to do that, than in my own space with a fellow writer in a house full of Apple Macs. The House of Mac, will thus forth be known as The House of Scripture.

I’ve also had a bought of reality; in thinking that as a graduate and experienced theatre practitioner – I’d have no problem getting a job in an area close to home. Thing is; there are no jobs. Theatre jobs. Production jobs. Not even a job as a runner. WTF?

Today, I’m writing some content. AND writing up a ‘civilian’ CV, so I can start applying for REAL jobs.

TTFN,

x

Today marks my acceptance of the plight which lies before me. I am unemployed. A new graduate. I’ve no plan. Well – I had no plan. I do now; I think.

I’m working on my two finished plays, which are almost ready for distribution. I’ve compiled a list of theatres and companies throughout the UK and Ireland who are accepting new writing and offering feedback and fingers crossed, opportunity.

I’m still going ahead with my move to Glasgow, wherein I will attempt and hopefully succeed in establishing myself as an innovative and reputable new Irish writer. I’m moving forward with this in order to heighten my experience within a ream of industries, along with establishing myself as a serious, working playwright/scriptwriter.

I’m still freelancing as a content, copy and SEO writer – however, this is merely my bread and butter. I want to branch into the creative side of things – but I’m limited in resources. I plan to use twitter in order to gain some clients and hopefully, I will network with a few theatre companies with regards to my creative writing.

I hope to endeavor upon full-time work in Glasgow, wherein I’ll be able to keep myself, and write as much as my free time will allow. Mark has also kindly offered me a place in his Acting School, meaning I’ll hopefully be able to heighten my skills in performance, and possibly work towards performing my own material pending further experience.

I sincerely hope this works.

Fingers crossed, eh?

x