All of my life, I've had a pretty vivid and active imagination. My brother and I had our own make believe world. I've roleplayed with almost everyone I know, creating not just characters but lands, empires, universes, mythologies, and histories. Of all the things that happen in my life that are half-assed, the stuff that goes on inside my brain never is. I spin stories and I entertain people. It's what I do, why I'm here.
Everyone has their tools for surviving life. Imagination is how I've managed to cope and stay at least passably sane. Back when I was a kid, I'd pull myself through the rough patches by pretending about a better future. A time when I was in charge of my own destiny, with no mother or craziness to chaotically ruin things for me. Not sure that ever happened, but I could usually release enough happy brain chemicals to sooth me through the process.
It's also how I keep from getting really bored. I can always entertain myself with my brain. I tell myself stories and create strange little people to amuse me. I rewrite endings to books, I explore relationships between characters I think have great chemistry, I think way too much about Arthurian legend.
Now, I'm sure there is a lot of unhealthiness to this . . . or so some people would say. They probably believe that being inside one's head so much isn't a good thing. It keeps one from being in the real world and dealing with what is going on around them. There might even be some validity to this.
I don't care though. I like my brain. It IS my favorite place to be. It always will be until my brain goes way. Assuming it does go away. I have plans to have my head frozen in a jar.
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