health problems….piling up. it’s no fun getting older is it. High cholesterol ? statins are on offer. apparently they’re incredibly effective. that’s what this doctor told me. But ideally i would like to diet and exercise and lose weight…so i can avoid taking drugs. but then they are a great invention, so i may take advantage. if only it were easier to get a gp appointment, it’s like i need smoke signal to communicate with him/her. My father was on loads of drugs, and by my age he’d already had 2 heart attacks and was suffering permanent angina. But my dreams are as empty as my conscience seems to be…

where have all my friends gone? people running around, doing their business, have no time to talk with old noel. Fuckin hate the mask that i wear, because it’s been forced on me by powers unknown. a mask which not only hides my face, my personality, but stops me doing things…and the fascists on the comedy scene do nothing to help. friends to me is just another word for distraction. My poor lonely self always crying out for company, for french ships. but i would love to subsume this need. and i try. but whatever the cause of this need, the void inside it won’t, try as i might, relinquish its secret or its hold on me.

of youth falls on my shoulders like a light breeze. only to be corrupted by the mind.

you wake up and you feel anxious and a bit sad but you’ve no idea why. sure the usual concerns are floating around your mind: career, money, why aren’t my so called friends returning my messages on facebook…oh yes it sounds silly. or does it? i can’t work out how to present to the world my feelings, or if i’m meant to present feeling to the world. Better to repress repress. for i fear i have a child in me, when i’m meant to be an adult. I feel lonely. and yet when i see friends i get bored easily by the things they say. what am i? a narcissist? If so then it’s not a conscious thing. I feel my mental anguish could be down to chemicals. i mean inertia, i mean loathing. Loathe myself? loathe the person i’m with, my situation? possibly. I’ve often found myself in a kind of rut, immobile, not doing anything, except thinking. oh yes, if thinking could earn me money i’d be a billionaire many times over. I can’t live in the real world, or if i ever do i can’t tell, i can’t feel it.

why do i bother? why is it i don’t want to commit suicide? i mean, my comedy dream has ended. I rode it, and had a good few years. but it turned into a nightmare. People assume it’s all better now. it’s gone away. yet i have shame in me still. i cannot avoid thinking about what some people think of me , wrongly. That’s my problem, perhaps always has been..self conscious. except when i’m on stage doing comedy.

so i’m one of those types who loves hearing about others dying young, of careers ending tragically, of people being caught in a scandal. These thing help me feel better. but i see it’s a shallow entertainment. To work, to get ahead, has always been close to impossible for me. And that’s not a whinge, just an observation.

is improving. been playing online a lot, and went for a tutorial with Jeff. when you lose you learn. i don’t really enjoy it, but i like it when i win. Someone once said ‘dying is easy, comedy is hard’…i would add: ‘finding paid work in comedy is harder again’.

Did some medical role play yesterday – what an easy job, if a long day, no script needed. The candidates took a blood test from a rubber arm, pretended it was mine, once i went ‘agh’ when the student putt he needle in.

went to Gowerton ysgol gyfun gwyr, to be a dragon in a dragons den. it was alright. chware teg i’r plant. plant means children in welsh. but are we even allowed to call them that now ? The y had some great ideas: i likes the bracelet with welsh gem stones, and the bucket caps. Catching the bus home was a drag – gowerton is like the outer limits of bus territory, so had to freeze by the bus stop for a while