and as the sun sets once again, just you and your thoughts. going places, loving strangers. building a life all in your mind.

Imagination is such a wonderful thing. It lets you take time out from reality and live for a moment in your dreams where everything goes your way and love is simple, and animals can talk. It gives room for the hopefuls to have a glimpse at how things could be if life always deals you a good hand. I'd walk in roses, grow my own flowers and give them out free to people who come my way. I'd take time to smile at strangers and talk to people whose eyes meet mine. I'd have no job but live with a mission to love people, make their days, hear their cries, cry with them, buy them food cos I can. I'd look into your eyes and tell you I love you without squirming and mean it completely from the very depths of my heart. Wear my heart on my sleeves.

I think we're all born with the capacity to imagine. Some more than others. Some literally see it in their minds, the colours, the people, the objects, like they could actually touch. A book could help you imagine, a really good author guides you along a great journey that is really your own. Give a child a blank sheet of paper and a crayon.

I've imagined a friend once. She was way younger than me, but so pretty and lovable. We were best friends, and I'd have given the world for her to be happy. But then my imagination gave way and I forgot how she looked like after a while. She became just a girl with a simple smiley face. No distinct feature, no colour, no personality. I could've imagined how she looked again, but it would never have been the same girl I first imagined.

It would be scary to live in your imagination. Nothing would ever stay the same. The moment you close your eyes and allow your brain to rest, you erase your entire life. Sure the next day you'd recover it, but there'd be discrepancies. The grass might be greener, your flowers a different hue. You might live a day all over again. Miss a whole entire month maybe. And you'd probably never die.

So take a bite off your apple but spit out the seeds. Who knows when the roots will take hold of thee?
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