Implications.

I just watched the movie August Rush for the first time.
I can't help but wonder whether the little boy, tortured by his genius, will descend into schizoid madness as he ages, ending up a strange, distant entity characterized only by frenetic scribblings on sheet music and a volatile reputation.
So he hears the music. He hears it all around him.
What happens when it takes over completely, when the music's all he can hear?
What happens when it drowns out social skills, loved ones, expectations, realities?
The adored, revered, all-consuming compulsion just might consume him.
And what then?
Symphonies are produced, operas written, cello solos inspired- but what of the composer, driven to freakish agony in his cage of grand staffs and accidentals?

Empirically, though, is this a bad thing?
Who says schizophrenia isn't acceptable?
Just because others can't see our demons doesn't make them any less real.

I'm reading a definitive biography of John Nash, so maybe that's why I'm worried.
To paraphrase Jean-Paul Sartre, genius is no more than the brilliant invention of a way out.
And some eventually find one.