Oh fuck it. I’m sad. Yeah so great it’s Christmas and all that fuckery. So yeah that’s part of it. But…

I’ve given so many years to hope. I’ve given go much possiblity over to hope. I finally get something good and then… And then it dies and it might as well never have been. Honestly what the fuck have I sacrificed so much for? I’m so fucking tired of having to prove myself when I don’t need to but I’m not known by the right humans. And the damage of the sacrifice? Oh God I couldn’t even countenance it. It’s too late for any other options and then again again again. Why the hell am I still holding out hope? What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m in an absolute bastard of an industry and it’s just done and done and done. Surely I can find my way out? But i won’t. I won’t. I’m lost. It’s this or nothing. And nothing is looking better and better.


I’m tired and sad and angry. What the fuck am I doing? I’m just… I’m out. I don’t know how to be safe towards myself anymore.

Yeah maybe I could do events forever and forget my entire purpose. Maybe i could just lose myself in noise again. Maybe I could just fall out of the world. Fuck it. I’m halfway there. Whatever.

I left Guildhall in 2002. I’ve kept an oar in the acting industry since then. I was in Bright Young Things, and put down loads of lost scenes with McaVoy before the feeding frenzy and Stephen Fry was kind enough to warn me before the screening that the bulk of that work had been cut by the producers. “The producers”. Somehow I’m always not box office. I was flown out to Thailand to film with Besson in 2013, and was part of a flashback sequence for The Lady alongside Michelle Yeoh and David Thewlis. The CGI needed to make them younger meant that the whole flashback sequence went and my work was cut again. And now, once more, with Disney… I could’ve gone to the Atacama Desert. I stayed here instead, I did just a day. I hoped it might have been a helpful credit. My work was good. Aaargh. Cut again.

So yeah I’ll still be doing the thing I do, hoping… I’ll still be believing in the face of the void. I must be insane? What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with anyone doing this job? This is the worst fucking job in the world. You have to destroy everything, nobody treats you like you have any free will, and then the hope you have for change turns into empty noise.

It’ll all be better after a night of sleep. Hopefully.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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