Imagination

Imagination, it's a funny thing. I was listening to an old Frank sinatra song, and it kind of hit some nerve and I thought yeah, Frank’s a clever man. Assuming he wrote his own songs, because I wouldn't have a clue...

I interpret what Frank was saying as imagination is good "It makes a cloudy day sunny" but also somewhat uncontrollable "It makes a bee think of honey, just as I think of you". So imagination can make things better, but also make you think of things, that sometimes, quite frankly, you'd be better off not thinking about.

He goes on to say, imagination is crazy, which I must admit it often is. Why do we think things? Why do we pretend certain things are real, and then we have all these false thoughts and feelings, which we carry around. They become a problem when I build upon these false things, and then I have this inflated untruth.

Frank has tied imagination in with love a whole lot, well, that's how I see it: "Your whole perspective gets hazy, Starts you asking a daisy, What to do, what to do". It's nice to link the two, and yes I admit, I am guilty of imagining love the way it could be, but imagination goes a whole lot further than that.

I imagine being old and wrinkly. The way my skin is going it won't be that far away. God give me some crème-de-la-mer now. I need it, the wrinkles in the corners of my eyes are becoming a permanent fixture, they don't seem to fade once I've stopped smiling. I'm not even old. It isn't fair. I imagine going grey, gracefully, no grey regrowth for me. nuh uh. I will love my greys, shall I call them silver.

I imagine being a bird, flying in the sky, my only worry being whether or not I'll get the worm, not being an early riser, I think I'll have to go for the burnt toast on the lawn. What is imagination? It's a nice escape, it's a nice place to be, but what are you really doing? Maybe it helps like a visualisation type thing, but lets be honest, I'm not likely to assume bird form anytime soon.

"Have you ever felt a gentle touch, And then a kiss, and then and then, Find it's only your imagination again" Frank has scared the bejesus out of me again. I have this fear filled thought, that this life is all in my head, it's all buried in my mind, and that is where I am, inside my head. The real me, out there in the real world is in some padded cell, walking and talking as I do. People watch me through thick glass, and take notes.

I have been asked if I'm crazy. I think I probably am, but if I am crazy then surely the rest of the world is too? Frank, well, he is crazy in the most beautiful way possible. As beautiful as only Frank can be. "Imagination is silly, You go around willy nilly, For example I go around wanting you, And yet I can't imagine that you want me too".