Create.

"YOU'RE STAGNANT!"

He barks with a vicious demeanor. He nips at my heels.

He breaks my stream of consciousness, crashing down into my headspace like a meteor.

He socks me in the gut, demanding I drop everything and create.

We have a love/hate relationship like a drill sargeant and his recruit. We drive each other mad but cannot exist without the other. I house his virile desires, and he keeps my creative essence burning.

He stokes the flames just enough so that they singe my dormant haunches to leap forth into the Great Unknown which we call art.