Pure imagination :

When did we forget to think for ourselves?

Think about it. Now really, think.

I have an imagination, and I use it often. I frequent images that are not real, not to live in a wonderland, but to create. Art, possibility, hope, future. Whatever it is, my imagination is good, powerful, and true. It is the most vibrant thing I know, and something that I can forever keep within the confines of my mind.

Do it, I dare you. Consider the following:

- If you had a sock puppet that was pink and made out of wool and had yellow eyes and stringy yellow hair, what would you name it and why?
- Run your hand through your hair. Which hand did you use, and why?
- Touch every flower you see. Feel it and see how it compares to the others. They're all soft, but some are softer.

I don't know, maybe it's just me. But these are the things I remember to live for. That I have to remember to live for, when I get swallowed whole by work and school and the monotony of it all. These things are unique to me, experiences completely my own. Even though you - and you - and you - may be meandering through your gardens now, wandering through the plants in search of petals to feel, your experience will be completely unique to you.

Maybe you find out that your front or back yard houses a host of ladybugs. Or maybe you stop walking in the middle of a crowded sidewalk to reach up and take a leaf from the tree above you to work today, to take a piece of the outside with you as you are locked inside for the rest of the day. Or maybe you're at a park, and dig your hands into the grass and realize that though it may cause your legs to itch, it has always been a more comfortable resting place than your bed back at home. Or maybe you don't have a home, or you close your eyes and pretend that you don't. And you breathe in the air and you come back out of the world and into your own dreams, into the mind that is all your own, and realize that you were never searching at all for the nature around you. Maybe all that you adore is the dandelion that you picked apart a few weeks ago, seed by seed, and it reminds you of all the wishes you made as a kid. And one of those was to become something, truly something. And maybe you realize that now, you are that something - you are becoming. You are already someone. And you open your eyes to the world around you and realize that you can let go of all the wishes because it has already come true. You are living, breathing, existing, creating, imagining. You are in the wind, just as the petal in your hand is as you let it, and all the rest,

Go.