There is no box
You can think outside or inside, but either way you're still confined to a box. What if I told you the best way to think was without a box entirely? When you remove the box, you remove the rules.
Here is an example, how would you answer this question? "You're traveling to the airport, how long does it take you to get there?" Someone inside the box would contemplate the actual time of travel from point A to point B with no stops in between, theirs is the most direct response. Someone outside of the box would consider different routes, stops along the way, possible disturbances that would prolong your travels, maybe different speeds or drivers, ect. Theirs wouldn't be as direct but it would still offer a solution to get you from point A to point B. Someone without the box would offer an unorthodox answer. They could say something like "I have a portal that goes anywhere, no need for airports." Or maybe, "There are no airports on my planet." These answers are the unexpected.
When you remove the box, you remove the perimeters of the box. If the box remains, you are always dancing around it even if you are on the outside. Even outside of the box you are confined to the limitations of having the box, your thoughts will always be centered around rational explanations or limitations. The same comparison could be said for coloring outside of the lines. When you remove the lines and the lines no longer exist you are starting from nothing so the results are endless.
The challenge with this type of thinking is training your mind to remove the lines, remove the box and think with a blank slate. True independent thinking and real creativity comes from within when there are no perimeters or rules. So next time you approach an idea or struggle to come up with something unique think to yourself, is there a box and if the answer is yes, remove it.
Painted Dolls
Four minutes in and I knew I had made a colossal mistake. The door creaked like a blaring alarm behind me as I snuck through it to the top of the stairs of the surprisingly humid basement. Tiptoeing down each stair in a silent hurry, I could hear him barrel through the front door of the cabin, singing my name with amusement as his sinister laugh echoed off the tainted walls. I had always scoffed at the term "Final Girl" but now, as I stand and gaze at the lifeless bodies that hung like toys from the ceiling around me, I realize I am one.
His hand was soft to the touch as he held mine in his and led the way through the dark familiar street to a door without a welcome mat. "You're home." He said sinisterly as my trust in him quickly turned to panic. I fell to the floor like a crumpled blanket when his unapologetic boot met the small of my back, forcing me through the entry onto the cold, wet floor. "Why are you doing this?" I asked before darkness swallowed me whole.