One friend asked me this week if I ever just scream. If I get up in the morning and just want to scream without ceasing. And I said, “I do scream without conclusion.” It is a silent scream that starts when I wake and continues while I sleep. It is perpetual. It moves through every moment of my day. I am too exhausted to scream out loud. The quiet, unspoken scream is more deafening than if I were to scream out loud. It is the worst kind of noise; a noise of disorder. It crashes inside my spirit; smashing, beating, bashing in attempts to get out. It is the opposite of loud and yet it still pierces. Like real noise it bothers, irritates, troubles. I think I would rather scream out loud.
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