Voice

A voice narrated my every action. It spoke truths that my mind couldn’t grasp fast enough to record. It came in bursts, which were always inconveniently placed among the tasks of everyday life; a run, the shower, the toilet, anywhere that lacked a pen, or a keyboard. But isn’t that always the case, that our genius ideas only arrive in the midst of distraction. I want to take this voice, place it in a cage, feed it and listen to it sing. I want to record it, to place in print, and give it to anyone willing to give this voice a chance. It is the source of my suffering, but of my pleasure as well. If I could only tame it, train it, then maybe I could lead it to bring me the latter.