There is something dwelling inside each of us -- something that is struggling, gnawing, frantically clawing to get out.
You could call this thing a soul, or the creative impulse, or perhaps just a need to be heard.
Whatever name you ascribe to it, for some, it produces no more than a faint tickle, an occasional fluttering beneath the surface.
But for others, this thing possesses the strength of a raging beast, so strong it is an entity unto itself -- a tangible creature, with teeth, talons, and unrelenting tenacity. If it does not break free, its desperate flailing may rip us apart from within.