Most people will tell you that your imagination is limitless. Don’t listen to those people, they are horrible liars.
Our imagination is forged over time. Every new experience that we have alters our perception of the world, and changes the way we think. Our imagination is limited to our own self. Each person’s imagination is just as unique as the rest of their life, and we can never fully experience the depths of someone else’s mind.
The best we can do is attempt to format what’s inside of our head, and share little pieces of it with everyone that we encounter, as often as we can.
The boy loved to read; it was his favourite thing to do. Like many other members of his kind,1 the boy was not satisfied with the doldrums of his regular existence, and so sought solace in the stories of others.
As he pored over the exploits of his favourite characters, he would envision himself in their place, imagining — as most boys did — that he was fighting baddies and looking totally cool. He couldn’t get enough of the grand and elaborate adventures, the battles, and the heroics.2
However, as much as he loved picturing himself within the pages, they were never his stories. He couldn’t help but dream of his own adventures, and of sharing them with the world.
As the boy got older it became apparent that he would not be a boy forever.1 He didn’t have as much time to live in his books anymore, and the reality of responsibility began to sink in.
He had not forgotten about his dream of sharing stories, but there were other matters to contend with which stole his attention. He needed to figure out what sort of clothing to wear in order to look cool, and how to style his hair.2 He was developing a strong appreciation for aesthetics, and it started to affect the way he saw the world.
While the boy started focusing on looking totally fly, he realized that the way things looked could tell a story just as effectively as writing could. He became fascinated by the idea of combining multiple methods of storytelling to allow as much of his imagination as possible to show through.
The boy does not understand the world. His imagination is so full of possibilities that he does not understand how his reality can fall so short. But, perhaps, this is why imagination is so important; it gives us what we want, but cannot have. When we read a story, the things we most enjoy reading about are the things that we feel are missing from our lives.
The boy is beginning to see why he has such love for things like books, movies, songs and games. They allow him to enter someone else’s imagination, and to experience something entirely unique which could never be experienced exactly the same way without them. He feels that this is the best way to truly understand another person, to see what their mind is capable of producing.1
It’s unclear at this point what will become of the boy. Presumably he will get older, as people tend to do.1
Hopefully, one day, he will have accomplished his goal of sharing his imagination with the world. Perhaps he will eventually get married and have precisely two children whom he can share his love of stories with. Or, perhaps he will decide that is too much work and pursue his secret dream of being the lead singer in a rock n’ roll band, instead.
But, for now, he is still just a boy… Still just hoping that one day he’ll wind up fighting baddies and looking totally cool.2
I certainly hope so, too.