The Power of an Unlimited Imagination

The poetic essay below is about the voice of the imagination outside of the limits of close-minded structure and stability that many try to force down it's throat.

What is this so called "structure" that people speak about?

This word that would fill my mind with so much doubt

But that was before I began to start seeing

The truth behind my unstructured being

There is this statement that many in my structural family have often presented to me as if it was fact. Many of my friends have also said these wonderful words to me. The statement is: "you need a structure." And whenever these words were said I often used to find myself smiling with traces of empathy, understanding, and utter annoyance stuck in my teeth. Empathy because I see the mix of fear warped within this fundamentally worldly wise advice. Understanding, because I do not doubt the very proof within this real world that can be presented to support this notion of necessity for this structure. And utter annoyance, because I did not wish to live in this particular real world, and thus did not deem that statement a wise one. For to wear that belief in the world I wished to live in would be like wearing a fur coat in the summer time. Despite is flashiness and form, it would provide no use other than to make me sweat stupidly.This flashiness, disguised as a fundamental factor to functioning well in this real world, has left the people who have never before been in this land of structure lost upon arrival. 

I myself have been perplexed in this real world mystery. In fact, I was lost everyday I lived there; despite how long I had been apart of that "real world"- the land where socially acceptable structure symbolizes success. But what I found to be most difficult and perplexing during my time and travel in this structured place was the language barrier. A language barrier that was brought up to be a big issue every place and time that I traveled to on this structural terrain. A language of structure that would often invite segregation and self-denigration. For when I would step in it's food stores, I was told that I could not be served. I would sit-down in it's schools and be told that I could not be taught. I would make appointments at its hospitals to be told I can not be treated. But Why? Why is it that in this United States of Structure and Straight print paths that my desired cursive course could not be cared for? Why is it that I could not be educated by the "excellence" this world had produced? Why is it that I could not be feed by it's many faith affiliated foods?  I attempted to ask these questions, but my inability to speak structure talk always prevented my publicized perspectives from reaching it's intended audience.

As I roamed around this real world, lost in it's lunacy , I begin to hear whispers of a rumor. Interestingly enough, the rumor reflected an untaught language that I seemed able to receive, recognize, and reply to. The rumor stated, that there was a rebel state in the United States of Structure that is seceding from this preposterous place. It too did not speak structure fluently enough to fully follow it. It was said to be a land of the non-linear, a place of positive passions, and a state of sanctuary for those who stood outside of the structural standard. And outside of this standard, I stood. And so, stranded in a state of structure with know where else to go, I journeyed to this state to find that it was right where I wanted to be in the first place.

For the people there spoke my language 
Of soulful stories and songs. 

They even ask that I tell my tale 
As they listen and sing a along.

So I do

And it hits me the minute I that I start
That this language that I've never spoken

Has rained down a truth in my heart

That beyond the United States of Structure

Was within every boy and girl

A desire and fire being fueled

     Not in the wrong time

            But in the wrong world        

And so with me wrapped tightly in this states embrace, this lone state successfully seceded, and soon become a sovereign country. The country called itself the United States of Imagination. It became a land formed from ideas, agreements, and inspiration. It became a place where big ideas are implemented instead of being interfered with by talk of their irrationality. It became a country that I now call myself an active citizen of, and an active citizen of this country I stall remain

Yet I do visit my family and old friends sometimes. When I do they always ask me how life is out there in the "exotic" United State of ones Imagination; to which I look at them and smile, revealing a hint of understanding, empathy, and peace in my teeth. Peace in the fact that I have found my place in time, just as they have found theirs. Peace that I can finally love these people without liking this place.  And...

Peace in the position that from the start 

That our lands stand together

But are worlds apart 

The Movement Continues...

- Rhetorical Artz