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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