#19 Voices

Inner critics, self-saboteurs, censors, oppressors. We all have different names to these little voices in our heads that criticize our every move and keep us from doing the creative work we want to do. These voices are one of the main reasons we avoid focusing on our creativity. No one wants to hear the nasty things they have to say, so let's talk about how we can deal with them. What's Memento Mori Lab? Memento Mori Lab is our permission slip to experiment, try new things, and keep bringing ideas to life. In my case, that means writing mediocre poetry, some stories and scripts, doodling, and recording this podcast. Memento Mori reminds us, we are going to die. Whatever creative endeavor you've been postponing, now is the time to take action. 🔥Available on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and anywhere you get your podcasts! 👉https://anchor.fm/mementomorilab Instagram: @memento.mori.lab https://instagram.com/memento.mori.lab?igshid=1wz55ueuk60at Twitter: @mementomorilab https://twitter.com/mementomorilab Poems Whispers Sometimes it's just a whisper A faint doubt between thoughts Before diving into blank pages The pen stains the wordless paper Until the murmur spreads like weeds The voices grow louder, and I, smaller. Nothing I do is good enough, I am not enough. Mediocre, at best. Even if you tell me otherwise, They say some people are just too nice. I hear nothing else outside my mind The space between lines was better off barren. - Silence I thought I'd discover the silence Underneath deafening punk rock, Ringing phones, talking people, Clashing pans, and washing machines. When it all died down. The house went quiet. It was time to meet silence, Maybe I'd finally hear my voice. Or hear nothing besides my breath. But my mind flooded the rooms With screaming voices that weren't mine. - Voices I hear them loud and clear No matter how noisy life gets. I hear them quietly screaming at me. Like the Phantom of the Opera, inside my mind. Will they ever have anything nice to say? Or neutral? I'd go for neutral. But all they do is belittle me, for my own good. They tell me how pathetic I am, how pitiful. And dumb, and lost and useless. What good is that anyway? How's that meant to help exactly? Thanks for sharing, you’ve said enough. -