Help wanted draft

Here's a little piece I wrote some year or so ago, it was the first piece of creative writing I attempted as an adult, before "Nome". It depicts Joel and Faye on an average day (well the start of one) it's unfinished obviously but acts as a stepping stone between help wanted and bedlam.

Anyway, enjoy. In many ways I prefer this over my attempts at writing bedlam, it was a bit more murky and depressing, which is great.


Joel rolled onto his stomach, coughing loudly without restraint. The previous night was a blur of wretched sights and disgusting odours but then again, he thought the same of work and his apartment so business as usual there. Lifting his head to peer out of the window across the room, he glimpsed the bomb, Bedlam’s largest structure and monument to the isolation of the town, through the haphazard slats of the blinds. Grasping wildly with the hand not pinned beneath his torso he found his cell phone, squinting painfully at its face, feeling annoyed that it showed so much life so early in the morning.

The new girl had started at the coffee shop a few days previous and had wasted no time in making him feel unwelcome there, not through hostility or distance, but by turning his shift into a half-decent experience which made him shiver. Working was the bane of his existence and the thought of looking forward to it turned him to the drink he was desperately trying to keep down. Tumbling from his single mattress he slid into the adjoining bathroom, knocking miscellaneous objects aside with his bloody feet. Aside from the familiar cracks and crunches a desperate squeak filled the air about his shuffling gait, signalling that the mice had come back. Joel didn’t mind the mice, they were company after all and anything they ate was something less to bundle into trash bags come the end of the week.

He wondered what day it was, but couldn’t bring himself to check his mobile. Its cheerful obedience reminded him too much of her so he fell into the shower and lit one of the many cigarettes he kept littered about the space he occupied. Leaning heavily against the cold tiles he closed his eyes, trying to remember what he had said to the new girl that sparked the drinking binge he was trying to desperately ignore. It was no use, he had become accustomed to shutting things out whenever things became too much, and besides, his head was making a spirited attempt at punishing him for his addictions. Slapping the walls with bandaged palms he found the faucet and turned it. It didn’t make much difference which he used as hot water was a luxury he didn’t have.

With a pathetic hiss his cigarette went limp. Allowing it to drop, he set about the arduous job of washing himself, noticing he hadn’t removed his clothes at any point. Pulling the drenched contents of his pockets out and placing them on the nearby cistern he proceeded to clumsily unbuttoning his shirt, hurling it at the pile of clothes lined up nervously in the corner of the bathroom. They smelled of mildew and Joel was sure something was living in them but evicting them seemed hypocritical to someone who didn’t belong in this god-forsaken town to begin with.
The walk to work was hell, not only did he feel like shit, he hated himself for walking faster when he thought of her waiting, panic-stricken at the door for him to let her in. She was always on time and insisted that they would get in trouble with the manager if they didn’t work hard. He remembered snorting at this remark as, knowing the manager, the place could burn down and attract more customers. Either way, she had set about “organizing” the place which meant he had nowhere to sleep as the stock room was now filled with boxes and chemicals instead of the trash bags of clothes he would prop himself up against.

He rounded the corner to the store, shielding his eyes from the sun now cresting over the bomb, a fake sunrise that was so brilliant as to overshadow its first attempt four hours previous. Painfully peering through outstretched fingers he saw her in front of the store, pacing and furiously mashing her phone. After a few steps the shrill sound of his own device filled the empty street, causing her to look up from her fervour and exclaim, half excited, half anxious that he was over half an hour late and that she wasn’t sure he was coming.

That sparked something in Joel’s mind but before he could chase it up she had closed on him and was grasping at his bandaged hands in a mothering way, muttering about the state he was in. His jaw half-opened he said nothing, staring blankly at her purple hair partially covering her face. Shaking himself mentally he was about to tell her to ignore it when they met eyes, causing his voice to shrivel and his stomach to drop. Swallowing, he brushed her aside and thrust both hands into his pockets, busying himself with finding the keys to the grille covering the service window of Bucks Coffee shop. She coyly pulled at his sleeve but he determinedly told her to get the machines ready, tossing her the keys and pulling a bent cigarette from a sadly squashed packet.

So it's a new year.

Technically, not for me, it won't be a new year for me until march fourteenth but hey, semantics.

And what's going to happen this year? Well, I'm going to be taking another creative writing course and I'd like to have another shot at learning Japanese and maybe taking guitar lessons. Either way, being an author, translator or songwriter isn't a proper way to earn a living but fuck it. I just don't care. I guess that makes me more of a punk than all those hardcore punks with a family, kids, an SUV and a full-time job in an office and I'm not even trying.

So, ways to turn my apathy into art... I'd very much like to do something creative. Animate something, design something, get something published. What I'd really like is to collaborate, to have people to work with on a project and have my input accepted. I could design characters, write a scenario, draw some concept art or critique a work or something, I just want something to focus on, you know? The reason I want to collaborate rather than solo it is that I ALWAYS procrastinate or lose faith in myself. I need someone else there to keep me motivated and to bounce ideas off of.

So essentially I need a valet... Hmm I guess they don't work for IOUs.

So my first creative writing class of the new year is coming up soon, and I suppose I can check around newgrounds to see if any animators are in need of a writer or something.

Ideally I'd have a creative girlfriend that can be there for me and keep me going.

And maybe pigs will fly

Oh, and soph said I should write songs after reading my poems. Maybe. Id like to but you cant really form a band by yourself.

My profile

Okay, so this might be a bit of a shock to you but I'm on a dating site (what? you? Mister popularity?) so I thought I'd do something weird and copy down my dating profile here.

You see, as I'm a writer and all-round grumpy bastard I took the liberty of making my profile as creative as I could whilst being autobiographical, this means I probably won't be getting many messages from women unless they, too, like making jokes about cancer, have blue hair and hate children, and at the end of the day, they're the only ones I'm in the least bit interested in meeting.

The following is my unabridged dating profile, yes it's long but I've had a while to work on it. Again, yes, you'd think I would be looking for one day max before I was up to my eyeballs in women, I'm just trying to break it to you gently.

About Me

I'm Sam. Six foot two, thin and awesome. Still with me? Read on;

Firstly, I dont have a car, I have a motorbike. There wasn't an option for that possibility :(
It's blue, and despite what everyone assumes I don't have a passion for motorbikes, I just own one. You eat, right? Does that make you a food connoisseur? No? Okay, moving on.

Im a punk rock sort of guy. I love scary movies, animation, japanese rock, foreign films, punk rock music and animals! I'm a proud geek and utterly despise football, clubbing and TV, which admittedly makes me as popular with my own gender as I am with rhesus monkeys (which football fans remind me of come to think of it. A lot of obnoxious whooping and no real brain activity)

I have five pet rats that I adore (two girls, three boys) and would like to get a dog one day. I love to talk at length with good friends and good wine and at some point I want to go to Japan to absorb some culture, mainly since I've yet to find any in England.

I think manners and being respectful is important as I would expect the same from a stranger. I cant stand rude people or men who mistreat women and call them "love" or refer to women as "birds". Im not uptight however, I just prefer to be a nice caring person, which makes me a minority come to think about it,

I have seven piercings (eyebrow, lip, three in one ear, two in the other) six tattoos (both forearms, back of both legs, side&stomach and chest, all stars) and am planning on getting more, I also dye my hair different colours, blue, green, red you name it. Even went pink once, it didn't end well but I got the restraining order removed eventually.

I exercise regularly and try to stay fit and active. Im not quite an athelete but an active lifestyle makes me feel good about myself. I swim almost every day to stay fit and healthy and because I love water. I'm mad for water parks, which is a shame as this is England and the closest you'll get is getting rained on in a playground.

I've recently rediscovered my love of literature, shakespeare, isaac asimov, terry pratchett, bruce coville, tolkein, edgar allan poe etc. ive written a few short stories and am writing a novel. Everyone has a novel in them, it seems like I have quite a few stored up so its about time I got them down. Looking to be a published author in the near future!

I'd like to learn Japanese, I enrolled in a course which was cancelled due to people dropping out. That sucked.

I volunteer at my local Oxfam bookshop to raise money for starving people across the globe, I also lie to charity collectors on the high street so they'll leave me the f*ck alone.

Dislikes:

Children (they aren't all bad, just yours)
Fashion
Hoop earrings
Chart music
Text speak, or just bad grammar in general (I know when to use your and you're correctly for example)
Bigotry/racism/intolerance in all its forms. Grow up, its not big or clever to discriminate, it's just sad.
"Wacky" people. It's usually a cover for being dull as pig sh*t to talk to.
People who settle for less. If you aren't doing the job you want to be doing because it pays the bills, you need to rethink your perspective.
Facebook petitions. You want to make a difference? Volunteer.
Drum n bass, hip hop, dance music, pop, eighties music, all that sort of shit.
Metal (yeah, really)
Chavs
Overweight people (I work out, why can't they?)
Clubs
People who don't drink responsibly
Careless drivers. If you break the speed limit habitually you're a d*ck, end of discussion.
Women who cheat/play games/don't give a rats ass about my damn feelings. Yes, men have them too.
Dip dying (don't follow trends, set them)
Anyone who describes themselves as having a "bubbly" personality (it basically means you don't have one)
Religion/religious people. Seriously, stay the hell away from me.
Anyone who is "just an average girl". I'm not average and I don't want average, I want interesting, sorry.

What I'm looking for:

I'm looking for a cute girl with flair & style. If you have piercings and/or tattoos, have a crazy hair colour and generally aren't fashion-conscious or trendy I WANT TO MEET YOU! The first step to loving yourself is to dress how YOU want to dress, not just to be like everyone else.

Bad girls should definitely drop me a line, nice is great but boring at the end of the day.

I love intellectuals and having long conversations about important matters. Good sense of humour is a must! Im a connoisseur of many types of comedy and can always find the funny side of anything. Even cancer, it might be deadly but the pounds just fall off, great for dieting.

I draw and write so someone creative would be nice, or at least someone who can be supportive of my skills and kick my ass for procrastinating. Im always up for friendship too, I recently moved to Winchester from Canterbury so could always do with a few more friends. If you like the sound of movies and games with takeaway food then we should totally meet up.

As for the date itself, pizza, a coffee, or just sitting and watching the world go by. Life is for living so take it easy.

Some of my first dates:

Coffee and muffins followed by deep conversation and endless jokes.
An anime convention in London.
Playing videogames with a bottle of wine
Taking photographs by a scenic river for poetic inspiration (yes, really)
Massages, oil, candles, the works.
Pizza!
Hacking my date into small pieces and feeding them to orphans

(Okay, I was lying about the pizza)

You had to be there

Here's a poem I thought up while swimming, thought I'd share.

The other week, when it started to snow
Something hilarious happened
Now, how did it go?
Ah, yes, you see it all transpired
As I was walking the street and a car backfired
The sudden noise caused me to look up and stop
Just as a man came hurtling out of a shop
It turned out the man was a desperate armed robber
And he was hotly pursued by a vigilant copper
The chase, it seemed should have been but a trice
But the policeman happened upon a stray patch of ice
He flipped right over and banged his head
And when I rushed over to help, he was certainly dead
And that's the whole story
But you're starting to stare
So I'll smile and just say
"You had to be there"

New year

So it's the new year soon and people keep on asking me what I'm doing to celebrate.

I'm doing fuck all.

Not because I'm lazy or unsociable (well not completely) but because I've never seen the point in it.

Arbitrarily celebrating the change from one date to the next has never held any allure for me.

-Party!
-What's the occasion?!
-It's wednesday!

People say it's to celebrate surviving one more year, but we already have birthdays for that. If they mean us as in humanity then they should take another look, humanity isn't two thousand or so years old, it's millions if you believe evolution, so it's pretty damn obvious that we aren't going anywhere.

Its just one step up from thinking "i didn't die today" every time you go to sleep, we shouldn't even dwell on it, surviving is one of the only things you can do with zero effort so to celebrate it is to celebrate mediocrity, and another pointless endeavour we cling to.

So what else is there? A chance to drink and be rowdy? It all seems so immature and anodyne to celebrate the most meager things (who gives a fuck about saint patrick's day? You don't even know who he was do you?) and it seems like people are only interested in the drinking part, not the thing theyre supposedly celebrating so we might as well throw it out completely in favour of calling it "drinking, shouting night".

Someone said to me it's a chance for new beginnings, but who has ever stuck to their new year's resolution? Do you lie awake at night kicking yourself because you promised you'd eat less chocolate at the end of the last year? No, there's nobody keeping score or making sure you stay true to your promise, its just another reason to feel guilty about doing what you want with your life, as is your right. And why choose this time to male a change? If you're unhappy about something, change it today, don't wait to change your smoking habits or use of foul language, use some self control and stop doing those things. And go to the gym while you're at it.

Finally, someone said it is a chance to hope the next year will be better than the last. Despite the fact this means you'll always see the events of the last year in a negative light, this means you're just wishing for good things to happen to you.

That's called religion, so go fuck yourself.

Happy holidays!

Christmas wishes

It's christmas! That's the sound of hypocritical atheists singing festive songs about a messiah they fervently deny the existence of, mixed with the drunken rantings of working class people trying desperately to escape reality for one fleeting moment and underpaid teenagers totalling up your myriad of purchases of festive bullshit and ill-thought-out gifts for people you despise to unwrap on a day that was viciously misappropriated from an even older religion in the name of bigotry and genocide!

Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la!

And here's a poem:


Christmas wish.

By S.M.Curd



Every christmas I dream of you

When the nights are still and cold

I lie awake and count the hours

And feel ever so old



It's warm and bright

And holds me tight

And all around is gold



But there's a chill in the air

And now I despair



The clock ticks eerily

And you dance so merrily

And flutter so joyfully

Out of my reach, not mine to hold



As when I'm awake in the dark

And the candles grow dimmer, and calm

And at christmas I'll toast

And smile over the roast

But what I want the most

Is a christmas to spend in your arms.

The butcher

Here's a short something I wrote in my creative writing classes.

We were told to describe a person, a butcher to be specific. Whilst everyone was writing about balding middle-aged men in an apron, handing out pork chops or sweating over a pig carcass in a walk-in freezer, I was going the other way and describing a man called "the butcher".

Just goes to show how against the grain I like to think. I always stretch the definition of the task and it's made me quite popular in my course.

..............

They called him the butcher, but you wouldn't think it to look at him. He was a thoroughly well-to-do man in his late thirties, dressed smartly and to all was affable and adept. He had a wonderful penchant for the violin and spent his weekends volunteering at the local homeless shelter washing blankets and collecting money in a tin by the railway station. The problem was that he had a character fault, minor though it was, in that whenever the sun went down he just couldn't stop killing. The voices in his head bargained for him to stop saying "now, pete, you know these people don't deserve it, go have a mug of lemon tea and watch that nice movie about the holocaust again" but he would block them out by whistling jingles from television adverts. No, you wouldn't think it to look at him that this selfless civil servant had over a score of dismembered body parts hidden about his home, but after all, don't we all have a few skeletons in our closet?