Imagination never left me. Even in my darkest hours, my loneliest times, I could always rely on that special part of me, my creativity. In the darkest of times, I had an occupation that kept my mind busy and sane, that blocked out the negativity, the bullshit and tortures life has thrown at me.
I wish I could say that those times were rare, that I had things to look forward to. I wish a lot of things.
When I wanted to shut it out, it kept screaming, scratching and clawing back, it wanted to be a part of my life so badly that it was willing to torture me, and I let myself be tortured.
For a long period of my life, I didn’t nurture it, I admit and I am surprised that it was still alive after all this time.
It did not die.
How did it survive? What is the secret formula?
I wish I knew. I can’t just be grateful because it is still there. I want to thrive and I want my imagination to thrive with me. I want to thrive the way my creativity has.
I wish I knew where it came from.
As long as it’s alive I will be as well.
I wish I have been a better master to my loyal servant all this time…
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