I see reason, or my capacity to dwell on specific issues, as a stubborn, but shrewd, little creature living within my brain, while imagination is that wild bird spreading its wings across the sun. Everytime I look up I can see its shadow, a burst of colours, but I’m blinded by the light and can never really catch up with it. All that I do manage to grasp is a handful of feathers at a time.

Reason, on the other hand, is rooted to the ground, and though I never see it I can follow its tracks along the steep winding paths of my own mind’s labyrinth. With reason, I feel like a hunter- a truth hunter intent on understanding.

With imagination, I feel like the eternal child mesmerized by pure beauty and enchanting possibilities, running after the unfathomable, a phoenix of all charms that keeps bursting into flames only to be reborn and taunt me some more.