Where I'm Calling From

It was the story of a tax collector that got to me recently. This voice in his head that I hear as well. Of course the voice wasn’t the same as his, nor was it describing his life…it was/is describing mine. Every move as if I was third-person to myself. I never feel alone, but watched and critiqued. After a very long time, many years, I was made aware of this voice as being mine, but outside of me. Right now, as I mute the television to write this, the voice is louder, more tangible and a bit annoying. I write and it reads. I stop to think of the next line and it waits. There must be a name for this voice, or presence. Something, like ‘ego’, or ‘conscience’, or maybe ‘alter-ego’. Somewhere I could find the answer, but I’m afraid if I did I would also find a way to quiet it and that might result in feeling more alone. Look at me, adore me, but don’t judge me. I thought I may be on my way to finding answers to things like this, but I was erroneously charged $...