Tag Archives: voices

Gone on strike

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I think my voices have gone on strike. Thanks a lot, fellas! Why would they do this to me? Was it something I said? Do you think they heard what I said about them on my previous post? If so, yikes!

Okay, they are still there, just not as loud as they usually are. Well, except for Doubt. He’s always loud and obnoxious, kind of like the drunk uncle at family gathering, only Doubt never slurs his words. He’s always crystal clear. Also, Negativity never takes a holiday. I think Negativity and Doubt have a wager on who breaks me first. Bastards!

But the other voices have gone silent for the time being. Not that I mind so much. I had the day off, and I took care of a practical matter. I bought the engine mounts for my truck. I also spent to much money this morning downloading music from Amazon.

One song in particular had been driving me nuts for weeks. I would hear the song at work, but I couldn’t make out the words, and the few I could hear I would forget before I had the chance to look it up. Finally, after more than six months of hearing the blasted song, I wrote the words I could understand. Turns out that the song driving me nuts is sung by Paramore, Still Into You.

With that leading me off, I created a new playlist, though it’s far some done. I’ll buy a few more songs with my next paycheck. I still have a few more bills to pay with this one. Ah, the joys of responsibilities!

Speaking of, I have a book to read and review by Monday. I’ll have to spend most of my weekend, while not at work, doing just that. I made a commitment, and I intend to keep it. After that, I hope my voices will be ready to get back to work. It’s a little lonely without them.

I miss them.

And for the hell of it, here’s the video of the song that has been driving me mad. Enjoy!

The voices in my head go round and round

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The voices never seem to stop chattering, or at least it feels that way most times. As a person who lives in his own head, it can get pretty loud up there. The conversations I have to and from work are brilliant and captivating. The conversations I have in real life, well…, aren’t.

I also play out scenes in my head. The characters usually are faceless, but I typically see them playing out like a Hollywood movie. There tends to be a lot of dialogue, and very little to no action, just a lot of talking from imaginary people who seem to be well-spoken. I, however, am not.

I can see and hear the scenes I want to write. I imagine them going on at the most inopportune times, when I am not near a computer. Everything seems to flow smoothly, with well-reasoned arguments, logical progressions, and a clear order. There’s a beginning, a middle, and an end.

Then I sit and try to write out the brilliant scenes that I imagined and it’s gone. There’s no spontaneity. The conversations seem stilted and dry, the arguments lack conviction, and I can’t seem to muddle my way through the labyrinth to find the end I had originally intended. It frustrates me, I’m not afraid to tell you.

When it happens, I begin the suspect that the brilliant conversation I’m having in my head isn’t really brilliant. Maybe it only seems that way hidden in my secret world. Maybe my fantasy is to be able to be a good speaker, to be concise and articulate, and I create a fiction where I can be, whether it’s me talking, or one of my characters.

In the real world, what I think is so articulate really isn’t. Then I begin to suspect my own intelligence. Perhaps I’m just too fearful or guarded with my thoughts and words that I’m unable to let them go. I wonder if other writers know what I’m talking about. I doubt I’m alone, or at least I hope I’m not.

This fear also defines who I am in life. The older I get, the more negative I become, in part due to the voices I hear. Too many things have gone wrong in my life that all I imagine for myself is one tragedy after another.

At the moment, a co-worker is pushing me to ask out a sales-rep who visits our store once a week. Though I find her attractive, and she seems friendly enough, but despite my co-workers assertions that she finds me attractive, all the scenarios I run in my head turn out badly.

Every single one.

Maybe that’s what I should write about, the tragedy I imagine for myself in life, love, and everything else. I’m sure the scenarios playing out in the deep recesses of my psyche are far-fetched and ridiculous. Too bad I have trouble writing out what I imagine and rarely do my thoughts justice.

You know what I think? I think my voices are jerks. I need new voices.