The energy known as Imagination comes from an ancient river. It continuously flows from place to place. Its evercoarsing currents grind through its chosen path. Even the toughest of terrains bow to its splendor. Inspiration pours down from above, like a gift from the heavens, and the strengthened flow pushes onward. It is unstoppable; I even dare say it is inevitable. An object put in the way is simply flowed around. Men may try to dam the river. They might try and block the flow. But if a hole exists, nay, even the tiniest of a flaw or fluke, the river finds it, and flows on.