I love to day-dream. I just love to imagine, reverie and sketch fiction.
For me, Clouds were always the “Kingdom of Ice” at war with the blazing “Empire of Fire”, the sun. A mountain was where “God lived” and a waterfall was His drink.
Imagination is such a powerful tool. It draws clarity from the bizarre. It gives you the power of infinity. It helps you to draw a rainbow out of one single color.
And now I realize that why I don’t attract people to me. It’s obvious! I’m horribly boring and illusory. I’m sure I am not far away for being dubbed as the lunatic-who-no-one knows.
Most of the times, it will not agitate me. I concur to that. I choose to be that way.
But now reality has sunk in. Somehow happiness is what I cannot imagine.
I’m giving in to lure and dependency. I feel desperate. I feel not me.
I need to imagine again, I need to re-invent my thoughts.
I still need to imagine mountains where “God lives”, not where she is flogged and he is slaughtered.
