The imagination is like a person in itself. It can cry, laugh, and sing. It can ache and bleed. So, just like any human, it is subject to the disappointments of life. Because they’re capable of creating so much in a light mood, they can do so just as well in more fatalistic conditions. Imaginations burst into flames, alighting an infinite number of awful possibilities and worst-case scenarios. Each possibility is as vivid as reality, inducing terror, despair, and fury. Sometimes, the only way to control the waking nightmares is to melt them into ink and pour them out through a pen. And from these tortured pens come passion and unparalleled eloquence.