Don’t Listen to the Voices

Do you ever hear the voices?  The ones that speak inside your head.  They use your voice but you know that it is not you that are talking?  Or is it that you know it is you that are talking but you just wish that you did not say those sorts of things?  Voices can be unusual in that sort of way.  They can speak in a tone that you have heard your entire life but sound so alien that H.R. Giger would have nightmares.  The voices are with me at the moment because I want something, would possibly go to any lengths to have it now in fact if I could but the world seems to be sending me signals to give it all away.

The voices are wrong and the interpretation of the world at the moment is coloured by them so I ignore them most of the time.  But it is a little shard of madness that lives in me that makes their voices so loud at times it is just enough to keep moving, keep functioning and keep them down.  Everything I see and listen to reminds me of them.  The tranquil tones of the podcast that I listen to in the car are now telling me that I am a failure.  They point to others who have had less time and are doing so very much more with their lives.  Even though they say they want to produce one thing but their product does not support it.

Creatures whispering in a girls ear

Then there are the other voices.  Always imagined but different to my own.  They seek to tell me that the path I am on is for the good of the ideal.  Why are these voices always different?  Would it hurt so much that at one time the voice that propels me forward is the one voice I have relied on all my life?  That is the trick.  You trust the voice that holds you back while you merely respect those that push you forward.

I am strong though.  Those voices that seek to stop me make me work more.  One step at a time.  Jobs that take minutes feel like hours and time that is then created for myself is open, but feels alien.  I return to the work, wonder what is missing and then the voices tell me why I will never succeed and how I do not have the ability to move this forward.

Madness lays beyond that cacophony of voices.  I wonder to myself sometimes as I wait for the impossible to happen, what it is like beyond that wall.  It uses my voice to lure me in but do I find out who the voice belongs to if I fall into their open arms.  If I fall open like a book between the voices knees will I finally be able to see the truth of what lays there.  Less importantly, is the journey one way?  Would I ever return?  What horror would it be to find out that the voices that speak to me were in fact just me?  That nothing lay beyond the wall but what exists now.  Could I survive then?

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