My imagination is bundled into a big pile. You reach in and you hav no idea what you'll get back. It's loud, like fire trucks racing down the highway; loud, like the city streets of New York . My imagination is round, like the soccer balls I play with. Round so I can carry it around easily no matter where I go. It's always warm because it is always active and constantly working.

My imagination is smooth and soft from its many years of use. It always has that new car smell from the new ideas it gets, every minute of the day. It tastes like something unexplainable, so you have to use your imagination to figure out a name for it. It never goes on vacation.

My imagination is inside my sock, so it never leaves me. I enter it through a hole in my Swiss cheese.

My Spirit, My Declaration –

Never quiet in my mind.

- Ben