“I am...”
I am not a schizophrenic. The voices
in my head aren’t just anonymous, monotone voices. They have full names,
extensive, complicated backstories, and complex opinions. Not all are human.
Ivy is a werewolf with green eyes, Rosemarie is a fae-being with pink hair and
yellow skin. Callum is probably the only one who is completely human. There are dozens of voices, possibly
hundreds- like some sort of unorganized mass of voices and stories. Some who
have been around for years, a constant companion with me. Others have not yet
earned their names, or learned their life story yet, and rather lurk in the
shadowy corners of my mind. I talk to them, and they usually talk back. But the
one thing they have in common? I created them. Crafted each individually in my
dreams and subconscious, a collage of people I know and people i have never
met. I am not crazy. Even though I have worlds ready to spill from the tip of
my pen. Constantly creating symbolism and mythology for a land in another
dimension. I am not a schizophrenic. I am a writer. (And that is crazy enough.)
