Year of 365

August 12

Imagine having an overactive imagination...

I have a very over active imagination, so I'll tell you a little bit about what I've imagined before.

When I was a child, I would always picture the same thing as I was drifting between consciousness and the world of dreams. I would be standing at the top of a giant icy slide which went down for what seemed like miles. The top of the slide was at the base of a large oak tree with silver and blue leaves which shone in the winter sun. I wasn't alone. Instead, I was with a bunch of girls, all of whom were just as eager to slide down the sheet of ice as I was. So that's what we did. We slide down the slide and at the bottom, we found ourselves in a curious little place, which almost seemed like a marketplace. It was surrounded by icy walls at least ten feet tall and jagged with sudden spurts of ice sticking out here and there. The floor of the market was frozen over slabs of stone, holding up the island which seemed to be in the middle of a giant sea. The stalls were all relatively similar, each constructed of planks of wood at the base and thin poles of wood for the structure that held up ragged fabric covers. But there was always one stall that was different, if you could even call it a stall. As you walked through the market on a twisted path, at the very end of the circle, you would find a small offshoot that led to the right. You see, the entire market was built around a giant ice mountain, and at the base of it, opposite the entrance of the market, the only way of entering was the slide, there was a hole in the ice, almost like a doorway. When you entered the door, the already chilly temperature dropped significantly, and the further you walked the darker and colder it became, almost like you were walking into a frozen earth. At the bottom of the descent, you would find a secret village. There were two layers of icy walls in this section, the first having holes and gaps that acted like windows, and a hard back wall. There were stalls in this section too, among with tables, all crafted from ice in a rugged fashion. That was all I every remembered. A story left untold.

Another time, I was sitting in a particularly boring class, and suddenly I realized that I was imagining something so vividly, I was almost seeing it in front of me. Of course, this wasn't the case and I couldn't actually see it, but my mind was so bored that I had started dozing off, so I actually saw it in front of me. I don't remember what I was imagining, but I think of it kind of like a superpower. If I focus enough, I can almost see what I'm imagining in front of me. (I'm not insane or hallucinating. It's something else.)

One time, my family and I were heading back to our car on a rainy day. We were in the mountains and as I looked up, I realized that the clouds had cut off the middle of the mountain, showing only the base and the top. I imagined a large castle sitting atop the mountain, a large grey dragon with purple highlights spiraling around, roaring a warning to anyone who dared to approach it.

And of course, there's the time that I was out in the dark and I imagined goblins and orcs creeping toward me, out of the woods from behind me.

Some people might think I'm insane for being able to imagine this, and even almost see it sometimes (I don't. I just kinda zone out and see it in my head but it feels like I'm seeing it.) But maybe we have just forgotten how to imagine. As children we were wandering off to go and look for fairies in the woods or try to become knights, using sticks as swords, wands, and guns. What's happened to us that we can no longer have such a vivid imagination? Some people think I'm crazy for imagining this and having pictures dance in my head. I just feel bad for them, because they only get to live one life.