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.
