For a while now, I’ve spent many nights laying awake letting my imagination run free. I dream while I’m awake as much as I do while I sleep, but my waking dreams I always remember. The dreams of where I wish I was, the dreams of what I would like to do.
I let my imagination run because it needs the exercise, as many people’s do. I let it dream because I thrive on the joy my imagination finds. I chase its illusions because they are far more pleasant than thinking about laying awake in bed. If I had nothing but my imagination, I could be the happiest person in the Milky Way. My imagination certainly seems to be good at flying through the stars, so I know it could get me there.
This imagination of mine may be the best thing I have, and I follow it wherever it leads. I follow it to joy, desire, happiness, heartbreak, disappointment, and hurt, but more than anything I choose to follow my dreams. Follow the ideas that my imagination finds, heed its advice over that of others, for my imagination is tied directly to the desires of my heart. The same heart that beats a little harder from time to time. The same heart that feels the hurt when my imaginations ideas don’t work out, but it leads because it chooses to feel.
My imagination can’t be summed up in any particular way I suppose, nor can anyone else’s. There are a few things I have come to learn about it though.
My imagination runs rampant and wild,
Like that of an uncorrupted child.
It goes where it wants, after love and happiness,
Dreaming up wonderment with great finesse.
Leading my mind through the desires of my heart,
Finding all kinds of music and nature’s own art.
Taking me on marvelous journeys to unknown places,
Into the stars, great things it chases.
Discovering new muses, for my imagination to soar.
Chasing illusions to some distant shore.
Pulling me along to uncover something great.
Bringing me into a new euphoric state.
Following these visions with deep ebullience,
My imagination astounds me with its resilience.