The Overwhelming Moment of Now

The voices. Everywhere the voices. When I sleep. When I eat. Walking home from work. In the Drive Thru while I wait for my coffee. 

I cannot shut off the voices.

They follow me in the park when I walk my dog. They sit next to me on the couch while I watch Netflix. They drop like cheerios from the spoon back into my breakfast bowl and floss through my ears while I brush my teeth.

The voices tell me important things: What to wear. And what to like. New makeup techniques. Old makeup techniques. How to maime myself if I am gullible. 

The voices tell me news. Who’s had babies and who’s having a birthday. I even know what my neighbor ate for dinner or that the lady on the corner of Field and Third took a bubble bath last night and guzzled a whole bottle of wine.

The voices tell me what to buy and what to covet. They imply my backside is too flat and my thighs just the opposite. They offer me sneakers, jewelry, health diets, and international snacks. There’s underwear and menstrual disks, tech gadgets and sports betting. The moment I feel lonely, the voices connect me to a date.

They tell me who to love and who to hate. They tell me which thoughts to keep and which to reject. Who is good and who is evil. How to vote and who to believe.

They overwhelm my every moment, shrieking through my day in dots and dashes. 

They overrun every part of me, until I, too, am just the voices– mindless, spinning on a tide without anchor. Ground down. Sterile. Impotent.

Without a voice of my own. 

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