The other day I was hanging out with Pat and told him about my lack of imagination, that no matter how hard I try it just doesn’t exist. And he said that while he wasn’t like that, he understood, and that it’s probably the reason why I am so good at trivia and other things that require me to be vaguely intelligent and/or memorize things. That because one part of my brain is deficient or broken or just generally non-operational, the other parts go into overdrive and function at a much higher level.
I wonder what it’s like to be creative. All of my creative visions seem forced and ill-prepared, like someone was choking it out of me. I get one sentence, one phrase, one fleeting thought of brilliance and the rest is drivel. I would love to be able to imagine something and draw it. Or to pick up an instrument and make it sing something that had never been sung before. I envy those that can make, because all I can do is appreciate and admire.
Someone fix me.