Costume Ideas.

Tonight I'm dressing up as a slutty cat, but...

...well...

...that's beside the point really.

I wear costumes a lot because of what I choose to do on a daily basis.
In fact, I used to get paid to wear one all day.

It's something that I'm used to.



I work with some people in theatre who are very shy. They hide away in their everyday life and shut themselves off. I think it's their defensive mechanism.
But then they go on stage, in costume (whether it be literally, or just in the way that they are 'in character') and they change. It seems that they can lower those inside defences when they are wearing an outside costume.

It's a freeing experience.
Therapeutic.
A lot of people do it.


But what confuses me, is why it takes them to go on stage to do that?
And is everyone like that?

How about maybe, just maybe, people who aren't shy, are just as closed off on the inside as those who are?
Maybe we all are just like those shy people, we just hide it better?

I think I am anyway.

When I'm not wearing a costume on the outside, I'm sure as hell wearing one inside.
It's my defence to the shit that rains from the sky of society every fucking day.

Every now and then I'm going to strip out of that make believe costume in the hope that it opens myself out to the stage of the world.

Open myself to possibilities.
Strip myself and show my vulnerabilities.
And just hope I don't get fucked up by it.

Ancient Culmination

I am currently 21 years old.



I will have no more 'coming of age' birthdays.



I have come of age.



I am of age.



Of age to do what exactly? To be what exactly?

It may seem to you dear readers that 21 isn't actually very old at all. If I live to the average life expectancy in the UK then I'm only just over a quarter of the way to my deathbed. Not much really.
But in my opinion it's completely relative.

If I'm acting like a 8 year old then 21 is fucking ancient. As I am feeling around about now.

I try to grow up. I do.
I try to do things that adults do, like have some wine whilst making dinner, or organise all my paperwork into separate draws in my desk.
I still feel immature though.

I still haven't got it together. Whatever 'it' is.




But then I look at people even older than me and see that they haven't got 'it' together either and it gives me a little comfort.


There isn't anything to get together is there?

Life is just a massive struggle to keep everything from falling apart at its seams.

And it's time for me to get stitching I guess.

Heard about that man who did that amazing thing in his head and was like the smartest person alive for just a split second and if he could have found a way to write it down or even just say it aloud he would have been ultra famous and successful and would probably have ended up ruling the world?






Just me then.

My Guardian Angel

This is the story of my guardian angel.

Back when I worked at Disneyland, I used to dress up as Goofy in the park and get surrounded by up to 50 people at any one time. I'd work through them all one by one, signing their autograph books and taking silly pictures with them.

But every now and then, my handler would whisper in my ear "Goofy, there's a Genie-badge waiting to see you, can you come?"

Genie-badge's, or blue badges, were given to children from the Make-A-Wish Foundation. What the badge meant was, that the child was terminally ill, and it was one of their dying wishes to go to Disneyland.

They are priority number 1 for characters when out "on stage."

This was the second time I had seen a Genie-badge child. The first one was a little French boy who, from the outside, looked as fit as a fiddle! It was harrowing to know that he probably only had 2 years left to live.

That was usually the case with Genie-badges though, they were children who still had a few years of life left to live. They were still healthy, most of the time.

I couldn't have predicted what I was about to encounter this time though.

It was a little English girl, of whom I never actually learnt the name, but I will never forget her face.

She was only around 7 or 8, and she was in a wheelchair. She had tubes coming out of her nose and wires wrapped all around her body. There seemed to be some sort of electrical equipment strapped to the bottom of her chair too. God know's what it did, but it was definitely important.

But despite all this medical equipment surrounding her, it was her face that you were drawn to.

She had the biggest, most beautiful smile you could ever see. She was so happy, and it was to see me! I'd never felt so proud in my life, that I could make this girl smile like that, just by doing my job!

Instantly I felt such a connection with this little girl, and I decided to play with her for as long as I could. I would tickle her nose with my huge Goofy hands, and I would hide behind my ears and do some silly moves. She loved it! She was laughing and smiling as if she didn't have another care in the world!

Nearby her mother and father were talking to my handler, while watching.

"Oh this is so great" I heard her mother say. "I can't believe she got to meet Goofy, her favourite!"

When I'd heard that, I'd never felt more honoured in my life. I was on the verge of tears inside my suit. All I wanted to do was to break character and give her a huge hug, but I knew that was a silly idea.

"She really needed this. Thank-you so much" Her mum carried on "It's so great that she got to meet Goofy, especially as she only has 4 days left."

I broke down inside my suit. Tears pouring down my face. This little girl, this beautiful little girl was predicted to die within the week.

And then the little girl said a few words that I will never forget. Not until the day I die.

"Goofy, when I'm in heaven, I promise I'll always look down on you."

It took me all the willpower I had to not just break down and weep right there and then. Fuck, I'm crying right now just by writing it.

I had spent nearly 15 minutes with her and I had to go. I was supposed to stay out on stage for about 10 more minutes, but I couldn't handle it. I went straight backstage and sat there for 20 minutes in silence. Just thinking about this beautiful little girl.

It was the most humbling and heartbreaking moment I'd ever experienced in my life. And one I will never forget.

And on days where everything is going shit and I'm feeling depressed, I like to think that that little girl is looking out for me. 

My very own guardian angel.

I Feel Rough

Physically.

Mentally.

Emotionally.

I have no energy. No vigour. No intensity in the way I move and think.

And that hurts me. It hurts me that I have to struggle.

And before you say anything, no! This isn’t a hangover! It’s a much more deeper feeling than that. It’s that feeling of melancholy. That feeling of being utterly destroyed. And beaten.

This feeling isn’t new to me however. I’ve had this before, much worse than now, and I’ve tackled it. I’ve survived shit. Just like you. And him. And her. And I will probably survive shit again in all fairness.

But this time is different. This time I don’t just want to “survive”. I want more.

And that makes me smile.

Smile.

         Grin.

                      Show me those pearly whites.

Let those happy endorphins flood into your brain. Maybe even have a bar of chocolate to help them along.