I dun need adventures. I dun need imaginary worlds. I do what I want. And then I threw it(up) on the ground.
No it's cool, I'm curious whatsoever. That's pretty deep. I think I know what you mean. I have these 'feelings' from time to time, a quick and intense mental image of a perfect place. It's hard to explain... I often try to turn it into a poem or something.
I quite frankly do this in bed, just think to myself and create my own paradise. I read a very disturbing creepy pasta relating to this, about a man who is offered a job to imagine a copy of himself. Eventually, he gets so use to it, he now lives with his subsoncious. I might actually try to imagine a imaginary entity, and attempt interaction.
