The Dark Side Of The Creative Force

The Dark Side Of The Creative Force

So, five days ago, the 31st day of the eight month in the year of our lord 2016 to be exact, I typed the words FADE IN on a new screenplay entitled, “CheateR”. It is the darkest most messed up thing I have ever touched. Literally after I write a scene or a few pages I have to immeadeftly go watch an episode of Cheers, UNDATEABLE, FRIENDS, Scrubs, or listen to stand up or something to digress, relax, and get out of the heavily dark mindset. I am literally having to reach the darkest depths of my creative space, my psyche, my emotionally allegorical pallet with which I tell stories.
  What the heck is “immeadeftly”?

 

I don’t think you quite get how dark this piece is, possibly because most of you know how much I love Disney, fairy tells, and musicals and such…. But I do have a modest infatuation with dark material both inhumor and drama. “inhumor”? In order to get in the mindset and mental space for CheateR, I have to put on headphones or ear buds and blare THE DOORS’s “NOT TO TOUCH THE EARTH”, KATE BUSH’s “WAKING THE WITCH”, THE SWANS’s “WHERE DOES A BODY END?”, KORN’s “TWISTED TRANSISTOR”, ROB ZOMBIE’s “DRAGULA”, PETER GABRIEL’s “WE DO WHAT WE’RE TOLD (MILGRAM’S 37)”, THEORY OF A DEAD MAN’s “BAD GIRLFRIEND” LADY GAGA ‘s “BLOODY MARY”, THROBBING GRISTLE’s, “HAMBURGER LADY”, BUCKCHERRY’s “CRAZY B****”, SUICIDE’s “FRANKIE TEARDROP”, JOY DIVISON’s “HEART AND SOUL”, EMA’s “BUTTERFLY KNIFE”, FIONA APPLE’s “HOT KNIFE”, PRIMUS’s “MR. KRINKLE” and HANSON’s “MMMMMMBOP” as a playlist on a roaring loop with multiple repeated songs over and over again.

I am participating in this depression study, for the free therapy and drugs, which, by the doggone way, I am in this one because I got kicked out of the last one
 

That or this rather, is a true hot damn story. I got kicked out of a depression study. 

 

Want to know why?  
 I was way too depressed according to their findings! Seriously, the study was trying to take a different approach to helping with severe depression instead of antidepressants and uppers. What they did was hook you up to these machines, which must have been on loan from the set of Hemlock Grove. They registered and recorded your emotional responses to different stimuli. Then they would administer different meds accordingly to how your readings came out.

  
 Apparently they got the procedures and concept from a different study where they found out that dogs have a much more happy and desired emotional response to petting and belly rubs than they do treats, a case that clearly needed delving into.I swear on everything this is all true you can look up the dog case study, but I swear this all true. Like you know how annoying people put those emoticons of the 100 with lines under it. I would use it here if I didn’t loath so immensely people who use them.

 
 Anyway, I was told after a month of testing and labs, and psychoanalysis, and Cognitave behavioral therapy, and exposure therapy (Gah! The “and”s in that sentence) I was informed by a panel of mental health professionals, each with different specialties that I was too depressed for the study and they were afraid to test this new treatment on such a subject. 

Yep, that happened.


But wait, there’s more! 


So for the first study I had to get all of my mental meds out of my system prior to starting the qualifying sessions. For those of you playing the home game, my primary has me on a rather potent pharmaceuticaly chemical cocktail of Welbutrin, Zoloft, Clonozepam, with a Xanax garnish for the occasional anxiety attack. I had to go two to four weeks with out all four before they could start the qualifying testing. If any one wants to know the best way to give a person with depression anxiety take them off their meds for both. So I am in this viciously terrifying vortex of emotional hell for a month. 

 
Then I get to start the testing. 

 

Well what does that entail Noah?


 They stick an emotionally wrecked, atelophobic, over stressed, depression patient into, what looks like post apocalyptic torture porn devices, which by the way, helped my anxiety out so well, and proceeded to ask me about my worst fears and how I felt about “my life currently” for another three weeks, also with out my meds. “What’s that doc? How do I feel about my life right now? *Said around a ball gag* I’m kidding, there was no ball gag. I was told I had to leave mine in my truck…

Kidding.

Ahh, umm At the end of those five (possibly worst doggone weeks of my entire bloody life) weeks I was informed that it was all for nothing because I was too depressed. Apparently the technology measuring your emotions is so new that they don’t have charts formulated yet for my level of depression and anxiety much less treatment plans using the new protocol.  It was the staff’s and my primary’s medical opinion I go back on my meds ASAP.

  
Then I went backed on my meds for 4 days, (count them with me 1,2,3,4) that’s four days with all my meds. Which most medical professionals would tell you is right about when you can expect to start to feel results. Anyway four days later The facility called me to let me know they had a new spot in a different study which was a new pharmaceutical company testing a new product that should help with depression anxiety, memory and attention. But no sane person in their right mind would go back

  
So I’m sitting back
in one of them their lovely entrance counsellor’s office when he informs me that if I wanted to take part in this second study I would have to get my meds out of my system, again. :/

 
And that is the study I am taking part in now. But by the way on third day after my second detox I went on a week long vacation with my family to the Keys for Lobster Season, a family tradition.

  
What was I saying? Or talking about?

          Oh yeah, “CheateR”.


SO ALL OF THAT HAPPENED AND THEN SOME HOW I CAME UP WITH THE CONCEPT FOR , “CheateR”.

 

So I’m in this depression study and I’m talking to another therapists, one I actually like, a female, not that, that should matter but it’s fact, about this new film and every time we start to talk about it she makes it like 40 to 50 seconds before she adriftly asks me to stop and says something like, “Let’s talk about your relationship with…”. So basically it’s too messed up for her, a talk therapists who’s job entails discussing messed up things.    Yeah.           Also… “adriftly”? *abruptly* 

  



I keep going back and forth as to wether or not I should Direct it or not. Part of me wants to impart it to like a Eli Roth, George Romero, Rob Zombie, Kevin Smith, or one of my new favorites Jeremy Saulnier. Then part of me wants to be at the helm. I don’t know. For the record I’ve never been a horror, slasher, or thriller fanatic. When a good one comes across with a good story and all I’ll watch it and possibly love it. However, I don’t have a desire to be grossed out, scared, nor frightened. But that’s just me.

   

So what is CheateR about?



I really don’t want to talk about it…



                                                                                             ***
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my thoughts, even as distracted and attention deficted as they are. I truly do appreciate it and I hope you got something out of it wether it be good or bad. If it is so bad you have a need to let me know feel free to send you angered words to TheDepartmemtOfComplaints@gmail.com

As always it is very important to me that this particular blog does not comes across as a editorial of any kind and for it to be more of a stream of consciousness and as such there is zero editing if mistakes are made they are left for your enjoyment, or torture as it were.
Also if you’re in north east Florida stop by The Pig in Callahan for breakfast or BBQ. it’s been a while since I plugged the place I was eating at. But this is one of my spots from my home. Also the servers are super sweet and ask my if I’m okay making me realize I look like I’m on the verge of tears while writing CheateR every now and again.🙂

The Pig Bbq, Seafood, & Steaks
5300 Hwy 200, Callahan FL 32011 
(904) 879-0101
http://tinyurl.com/zglbpb5

  
  

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The creation of ART is SOCIALISM, but the LIFE of a CREATIVE is CAPITALISM

As a community artist, creatives, and others alike thrive on creativity in a hive mind like environment. We all want for the funny, the story, or what ever is being created to be its best. We all want the best for the product. However as individuals, creatives we are total capitalist! We want to succeed individually so we can further our own projects, products, and thus careers. It’s kind of a very intriguing — ugh I don’t know if you would call it phenomenon or not. We are a bunch of for profits operating in a industry revolving around story, and art integrity, and purists who all evolve and cultivate as this yingyang of entrepreneurial artisans capitalizing on prose and satire.
I wonder if the cognitive dissonance created by this, our culture in the creative buisness gives us a predisposition to emotional botheration, if that makes sense. Like do people who make a living mining out emotion and fleshing out story, baring our innards leave their/our paths to our hearts strings that much more trail blazed and as such easily traversed by emotional terror. Or, as I just realized, what I meant to say is are we just more sensitive.

As a comedian and a creative I think I have become desensitized to failure but as a kid with depression, anxiety, and Atelophobia I will never be unterrified of disappointment. I will never cease to strive off of the… Well not just the approval of others but the addiction of being able to affect other people via my art. I love being able to make people care and feel things. The easiest way for me to make you have the feels is to lacerate my shield of self hiding and let you into the danger of what is my core. Then hopefully we will have a great alignment of sentiments and in that moment you will say yes, I agree. In the same manner also if the sentiments do not mesh or match up that grifting will cause you to feel something. Either way the intention is for it to resonate as much as possible.  

What was I talking about?

I think, if it’s possible the Internet makes this whole ordeal In today’s society that much worse. Meaning we figuratively drown in a wealth of readily accessible information whilst, yet starving for the wisdom we should be gaining and utilizing by rescuing ourselves from a drought of common sense.

Our society flourishes on self doubt. Oppressors, wether they be government, advertisers, or whatever they only succeed at what they do most by reigning over a group of self doubters. The greatest rebellion is one of confidence. Being a rebel does not mean you have to be a rioting libertine. You could just be a super good you, a confident you and that’s enough to with stand the ever flowing current of flow goers. It is harder to oppress someone who is standing against the flow and above it because they can see it. If you can see it, it is harder to be swayed by it. So be a rebel. To quote The Ambassadors, “So, all hail the underdogs. All hail the new kids. All hail the outlaws. Spielbergs and Kubricks.” Go be a rebel, have confidence in your self. Believe that which makes you unique, what gives you singularity and unlikeness is what could possibly make you a success in this what we call our world.
 

A smarter man once said, “To thine own self be true”. Later on history another said, “You do you”. I’m saying you do, or ugh be rather, the best you, then if and when you succeed or fail you can know that it wasn’t because of falsehood. 

As alway I’d like to thank you for reading my nonsense. Please note it is very important to me that these entries just be a stream of consciousness and not a editorial so there is now editing done and I apologise for mistakes.  I hope you got something out of it. If you hate what I wrote so much feel free to let me know at TheDepartmentOfComplaints@gmail.com

I am not a mental health professional if you do need or even feel like you need help please reach out to (212) 673-3000 a free hotline if you need to talk. 

Sorry I’m not smarter.