Funny title. Do I have my own voice? If I don't, then whose voice do I have, or do I have a voice at all? Scary thought. Maybe that is why I stopped writing. I lost my voice. What I do have is a steady droning deep down in the pit of my stomach that just won't go away. A interesting point is that when I stopped writing, I stopped talking. I have never been much of a talker. My brain just doesn't work that way. My thoughts get all tied up with my tongue. I was born the youngest of a family of five children and I was the only girl. While growing up, no one around me thought I had anyhing interesting to say, so I didn't talk much. I did sit around and daydream quite a bit. My Mother was grateful because I was so quiet. I think all of those hours of daydreaming have finally caught up with me. I have got to do something with all of these dreams in my head. My problem is that I don't know where to begin and shouldn't I be doing something more useful like working a third job, tending a garden or taking in stray animals. I have got to work this out. I hope I can eventually get my voice back or atleast be able to write it, read it and recognize it as my own.