Blessed Imaginings

Inside the mind of a truly alone human is quite...I do not even know what. I have been able to explore this a lot lately and all I can say is, "thank goodness for imagination?" It happens in stages creeping slowly from step to step. The climb or maybe descent is so subtle that the resulting bottom of loneliness or perhaps boredom seems a regular transition. It starts with pure stillness; limbs thrown out, breathing steady, eyes unfocused and a repititious "la la la" running through the mind. How long an individual can maintain this status is completely dependant on that individual. This individual could last an hour on a good day. When the limit is reached a deep guttural groan rises from within. Such an instinct reminds the mind of such things as noises. This becomes the next activity: exploring the vocal world. Before long the room has been turned into a one mouth band complete with everything from trumpets to pterodactyls. The next natural progression now that the silence has been effectively broken is talking. To anyone or anything about everything. Well now that seems about as far as can be gone. You are talking to yourself. It's not. Props can be quite inspiring. Blankies can become puppets shows complete with song and dance, fingers morph into long neck dinosaurs , conversations are dubbed for people as well as birds viewed from the window and whole worlds appear from seemingly nothing. All of this seems rather normal to the broadening mind, but that is only until the prescence of another tells you maybe it is not. Why else are these things not done with others? Well, with the exception of conversation dubbing because that is just plain fun. Although if these are instincts of loneliness perhaps in company we are too conservative. This is the mind of someone truly alone, but thanks to imagination not completely bored. The benefits of being time-rich right?