Is writing an escape?

Absolutely, yeah, it’s not so much escape my life, because I do quite like my life you know. I don’t really want to escape it, but I think sometimes it sort of….it’s a hard question to answer exactly what I feel, but we have two lives. We have the life we live in the room full of people with our arms and our legs and the people that are close to us and you know, and opening a tin of spaghetti and having rice bubbles for breakfast, we have that life, but there is another life in our head, it’s that….you know that voice that talks to you in your head, you know not the one you hear aloud and you think it’s somebody, that’s mad. But that voice that always taps you on the shoulder, or says “Christ I’m bored”, or “geez I think I need to go to the loo bro”, or that voice, and the way you sit in school sometimes and the teacher is talking and you just spiral out, and you think of playing rugby, or chatting up a girl, or you know playing playstation or whatever it is, or something that moves you. And it’s that set of voices in your head that is another life, and I think writing is really a way of engaging with that voice. And sometimes we never stop and think, yeah we have this whole life there, it’s just sort of like it’s a background noise most of the time. But writing you get a chance to put people in it and do things with it, and play with it, and so I get to spend time in that world. But it is still my life, so I’m not escaping it, I’m just going into another room. Does that make sense or do I need to see a psychiatrist?