Imagine you are in a beautiful forest, surrounded by healthy, green, juicy-looking leaves, with the hot, passionate, burning sun warming your back and slowly slithering up your back like a cobra snake.
Imagine you are in space, the atmosphere fuzzy, bounce, bounce, bouncing in your space boots, leaping high above the stars and finally landing on a soft, cheese-like flooring with holes embedded inside, as though deliberately patterned by the previous stalker of space.
Imagine you are a brave pilot in world-war two, red-faced, sweaty, heavy heart, old, faded picture of your loved ones placed, pride of place, on the edging of the little window.
Imagine you are a shooting star, free, colourful, a hurricane in its own right.
Fill the plain, A3 paper with colour, life, imagination, and dive into a world of cartoon, of fairytales, of hot-cross buns and lollipop lamps.
Then imagine the noisy, claustrophobic classroom dominated by chattering, boisterous, eager kids. Look out of the class window into the endless stretch of blue sky dipped with white as delicately as though made with careful brushstroke. Imagine the possibilities waiting out there for you.
You could be the next prime minister, the next person to take flight in a rearing rocket to the moon.
You could go down in history of famous people of the 21st century, be studied in 23rd century textbooks.
Who knows?
The key to achievement is belief, and if you can’t believe?
You’ll spend the rest of your life playing a quiet, lonely, desolate game of Imagine.