The Voices

I hear voices in my head.

They are all knowing. They let me into a world I would not have been privy to if I would not have listened to them. They are characters seeking out vengeance, sick bastards who lust for blood, or innocent bystanders who got in the way of an antagonist without knowingly doing so.

I can write and create without said voices. They usually follow if I decide to work off an idea instead of voices alone. But, when they come on their own it always makes the story a little more special. I get to know the characters, their thoughts and feelings or what actions they would pursue if they were faced with a room full of blood, realizing only moments after - they were the cause.

It's quite fun.

One could argue that yes, these come from within me. I suppose they do, but I'm always delighted and surprised by the new developments in a character or story when the piece takes on a life of its own.

The more I write, the louder the voices get. And from where I started out, with a nineteen year old male trying to take over my body, impossible to ignore.

They are apart of my creative process. I adore listening to what the characters have to tell or show me. They come out for a reason, while I'm not entirely sure why I was chosen to tell their story, I always enjoy that little trip into my head, to learn or to grow as a writer. I'm not ashamed of the voices. I indulge in them whenever I get a quite opportunity and I giggle at the unusual gazes when I tell someone who won't understand.

I wouldn't have it any other way.