There are very few things that can stop the stories in my head.
Once, for a period of years, I stopped writing or telling them. I dammed up my mouth, clouded my eyes, and stoppered my ears. The stories trickled out through the cracks in ever increasing volume until a great flood of pent up creativity nearly drowned me.
Today, I have a migraine. The only force in nature that can stop my creativity at the source.
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