Write Or Wrong 71

Voices In My Head

I hear voices. All the time. They are always talking to me. I mean, there are so many of them that it can get distracting. You see, there's Nick Barrovici, a plumber from New Jersey. He has a wife, five kids, and a nasty gambling habit. Then there's Oliver Ghent, a amateur wrestler form Bayside, Queens. He's had some hard times lately since he broke up with his girlfriend, Bianca. But she doesn't really speak to me so I don't know what the problem is. And Diego, oh Diego. Now there's a real character. Diego Almodovar is a painter. He's also a magician. No, not the type that of magician. You see, Diego actually has magical powers. He can move objects with his mind, summon the dead, and even turn invisible for short amounts of time. Alas, I don't get any of those abilities. All I get is the voices. All spouting off about their lives and the random situations that befall them. And sometimes it can all get a bit overwhelming. Knowing all about these people is both a blessing and a curse. You see, they're all part of a story that's been forming in my mind. A story that's been there for a while and has been stewing in the neon electric imagination of my feeble human brain.

Now I guess you're breathing a sigh of relief. A really big one. I bet you were thinking that I was nuts. That I was a paranoid schizophrenic, hearing random voices telling me to eat, sleep, piss myself, shit in the sink, or just eat my neighbour's hamster, Isaac. And even though my neighbour doesn't own a hamster named Isaac, you still might think those things. But it's not like that, the voices aren't randomly generated by my brain by some synaptic misfire. It's almost a reflexive thing. I react to a situation or my surroundings many times in a way that I guess a lot of people might not. I see, hear or smell something and think about how it might work for a story. Just the sight of a red sky, the fragrance of a woman's perfume, or a few notes of a song can generate people. Characters. They have their own distinctive voices. Lives like you and I. But all they lack is the flesh and blood of physical existence.

And I know it must seem crazy, I know it does to me. Every time I think up a story and hear those voices of characters going back and forth, having conversations, I do get weirded out. They just seem to be a natural extension of myself. But no matter what, It always puts me on edge when I can put myself in the mindset of someone completely unlike myself and channel their "voice" onto the page. It's one of the wonderful abilities of humanity. Creativity. To manifest sheer intellect and imagination into form is a wonder to behold, and I'm thankful that I can do it. I just wonder what it's like to not be able to. Hmmm, maybe I can imagine myself like that? Ah, yeah, I hear it . . .

Geek Out!

"Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" is the one movie you NEED to go see this year. I stress the word NEED because this is really a movie that really gets to the core of the matters of the heart and also plays with concepts of memory, whether it's mental or physical. I was never a fan of "Being John Malkovich" and thought that "Adaptation" was not my cup of tea, but this movie just grabs you by the heartstrings, tugs `em tight, and climbs all the way up to your brain and sets up shop for at least a week. Director/Co-writer Michel Gondry and co-writer Charlie Kaufman craft an off-kilter, romantic film about life, love and forgiving and forgetting; though not necessarily in that order. So if this sounds interesting, go see it. You'll thank me. Now go!