From a young age, I have had a vivid imagination. I had many different imaginary worlds and many different characters in each of them. The main reason I feel that I created these worlds, characters and objects, was because I was lonely when I was little. I didn’t know how to make friends, or to socialise with people, especially ones my own age. All the girls wanted to play ‘house’ or ‘ponies’ and all the boys were either playing football, or were trading Match Attack cards. This wasn’t my way of thinking. I never understood why there were rules about what people would talk about or play with. I just wanted to play by myself, so I could make up the rules in my own world. A place with no restrictions and no gender stereotypes – or even genders. This imaginary world made me feel safe, but by a certain age I was told that this world was childish and I would have to forget about all the friends I’d made, all the schools I had attended and all of the beautiful landscapes. I couldn’t face the fact that I would seem like even more of a weird child if I still looked into my imaginary world by the age of twelve. People already gave me funny looks in the playground at middle school, when I was talking to people that weren’t really there, let alone being that age and still doing it. I had to save my strange behaviours for the weekend, when I was at home in the comfortable safety of my own room. Luckily at this age, my sister still wanted to play with me, but then it got to the point where she’d grow out of it. By the time I was reaching being a teenager, people simply thought I’d ‘grown out’ of pretending and having imaginary friends, but the truth is that I would still want to be there now, and it’s only two weeks until my sixteenth birthday when writing this on the 28th of August 2016. I’ve almost forgotten the pure happiness I felt when I was in my own little world, with my own characters. Most children had one imaginary friend, but I had many, along with some enemies and acquaintances too. I even fantacised simple things, like going to school in my world and having fights, and becoming a teacher. I would give anything to go back to having the mentality that I did in that time. I miss my childhood and would go as far as to say that I feel like a completely different person, to what I did then. The only things that are the same, is my biology, my obsession with Harry Potter and my fascination with writing. I wonder what it would be like if I still had the same personality as I did back then. I was a lot more confident about my own work, but I was just as shy around people as I am now. I would say that I still get used to situations pretty quickly, which is why I can’t deal very well with change. What would it be like if I still had the same confidence about my own productions? What would it be like if I could still take myself to my world? Where are my imaginary friends now? I wish I knew what it’d be like. I want to take myself back there, it’s still there – I know it! If I could imagine a key, could I unlock the world and rejoin it? I guess all it takes is to try. Trying isn’t hard. I just have to remember all the places. New people can be made and found, that’s simple. If there is an imaginary scary man in my life, then surely I can reimagine the positives.
Sorry I haven’t written in a while, but I’ve been blogging a little bit on: http://wishingonthatstar.weebly.com/, which has this exact post on it, and a few others from the past days. I have to go now, but I will try and have a look at some of your blogs very soon. I hope everyone has had a great weekend. Goodbye!