When I was a kid I believed that a lot of little people lived inside the radio. I knew those people were in the radio because I could hear them talking or singing or playing musical instruments. Leaping and posturing. I still believe in those little people, only now they live in my own head. I know they are in there because I can hear them talking.
Many people hear voices when there's nobody there.
Some of them are called mad and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the walls all day. Some of them are called writers and they do pretty much the same thing. Writers have always been weird. Samuel Johnson liked to have a purring cat, an orange peel and a cup of tea with him when he wrote. Dickens turned his bed to the north so the magnetic forces would help him to create.