Who’s in Charge Here?

Just give the answer.

But what if it’s wrong?

You know it isn’t. And if it is, that’s why you’re at school.

I might get shouted at.

I’m scared.

We’re putting our hand up Tom. You know you’re right.

I was five years old the first time I recognised it happening in real time.

Voices in my head. Competing.

Overwhelmed. Rational. Performative.

A new leader ready to step in at any moment….

This is what you want to do. Follow it.

But people will be disappointed.

I’m supposed to be “clever”.

Other people don’t get to decide what you do.

But it’s college. It’s important. I don’t want to let people down.

You’re not. You’re following your heart.

That feels like a silly reason to do something.

It’s the only reason to do anything. We’re going to Arts college.

Fifteen years old. The same scared kid. The same voices.

Still in competition.

This is exhausting….

Just do it. It will be fun.

A comedy course? Who do I think I am.

Are we really doing this again? You WANT to do it.

But what will people think of me?

I’m scared.

You’re always scared. We’re signing up.

Twenty six years old.

It’s all still so loud in here.

I don’t know who I am.

A question for another time…

Just write something. Anything.

I can’t keep doing this.

Maybe I’m just not creative.

Even for you. This is sad.

I think I’ll just accept my life for what it is.

You’ll be unhappy forever.

But I’m scared.

NOT THIS AGAIN. WE’RE WRITING.

Thirty three years old. Fighting the same battles. The same voices.

I’ve done medication.

I’ve done therapy.

I still don’t know who I am…

That’s a really good line.

Did you just give me a compliment?

Don’t get cocky. Keep writing.

Bloody hell. I’ve written twenty pages of this film.

You have. Don’t ruin it now.

Good point. We continue.

OH MY GOD GUYS. TEAMWORK.

I’m so happy I kept going.

I was thirty four years old the first time I recognised the voices working together in real time.

It’s taken me a lifetime to realise that they’re all who I am.

I’m still working on accepting that they’re a gift.

I still have no fucking idea…

Who’s in charge here?