Writer’s Syndrome
I’m halfway certain that they think I’ve gone and lost my mind. I don’t blame them. Damned if I don’t wonder the same thing sometimes.
For instance, as I am writing this my “thinking voice” is using a British accent, if a poor one. I have been mentally repeating those last four words as I pause to continue with my writing. I have the ability to stare off into space and see images and hear sounds for what seems like only a minute, but when I look back at the clock two hours have passed. Sometimes my thoughts are only music and notes. Sometimes just images. Sometimes just black.
I don’t know what everyone else would call it, but I call it Writer’s Syndrome.
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