Overactive Imagination Novels & Stories

When I'm about a mile out from the packhouse, I stop and decide to walk the rest as a cool down. My mind is buzzing, but not just with thoughts. I can feel the visions slowly overtaking my mind again like they had in Palawan. It's only a matter of time before I'm going to lose control again. Like the girl in my vision, I feel like an active volcano that needs to erupt every now and again to avoid a massive meltdown.

Little fantasies of Jenny pop into my mind, her working in the office I'll have put looking out over the back garden so I can lure her out when she's been working too hard, sitting at a breakfast bar like the one Jamie has, eating pancakes I'll learn how to make perfectly for her, barbeques beside the pool together with both our friends visiting. Fuck, it's far too soon to be thinking about this! What is wrong with me? Every time a little thought of Jenny living with me in my imaginary house sneaks in, I try to rid myself of it, but they come thick and fast and I'm pretty sure I've got issues now. I'm becoming a little obsessed with a girl I've just met and it's not healthy, surely? I need s

He said without the slightest trace of vigor. If it was not for my overactive imagination I could have easily believed that he was worried but sometimes I read into things much more than was needed which leads to delusions and conflicts in my mind leaving me restless and anxious. So I decided not to dwell on the way he sounded too much. "Yes, sir," I replied. "See you on Friday," I cut the call and sighed. There's no point in going back to bed again because I know I won't be able to sleep. I groggily got up and headed to the bathroom to wash up.

and this morning discovered. But when I sat down and saw him looking so cold and proper in the sunlight... my mind betrayed me by conjuring images of him with his black robe half-open, his body radiating desire... and worst of all, my imagination added a scene of him alone in the bathroom... Dear God! I closed my eyes, feeling like I was losing my mind. I swear I wasn't doing it intentionally. I was an adult woman—those images just invaded my brain automatically! I didn't want my thoughts to be so... explicit.

So what if they’d gone through a few things last night… and now she knew a few things… But as soon as she sat down and saw him bathed in morning light, so cool and restrained, her mind betrayed her—immediately flashing to him in that half-open black robe, his body full of heat and desire… Worst of all, her imagination added in the part where he was alone in the bathroom, groaning— Oh, God. Candice squeezed her eyes shut like she was going crazy. She swore it wasn’t on purpose. She was an adult woman, okay? Those images just forced themselves into her head. She didn’t want to think this way. Please forgive her!

I can’t think straight, my pulse still racing from the lingering heat of the fantasy. Fucking shit. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. Why can’t I keep my head straight around him? One second, he’s pouring out his heart, and the next, I’m imagining… that. My cheeks burn hotter as I recall the vividness of it—his lips on mine, his hands on my skin. What is wrong with me? It’s not like he’s even shown the slightest interest, yet my brain is conjuring fantasies like some desperate teenager.

No matter how he tried to focus elsewhere, she lingered in his mind, vivid and untouchable. He imagined her standing before him,her delicate hand wrapping around him, stroking with slow, deliberate rhythm. The thought alone sent a shiver through him. His own hand matched the pace of his fantasy as he pictured cupping her boobs, his fingers teasing her sensitive skin and drawing soft gasps from her lips while tracing lines around her cunt. A low moan escaped him raw and unrestrained, as he increased the pace. The combination of desire and imagination blurred the line between reality and longing.

I ask, my tone soft. “There’s a voice in my head, pà.” He cries, his voice shaking with sorrow and fear. “It sings deadly songs to me, always pushing me into a state of numbness. And then I start to imagine things, dirty things.” I nod my head in understanding, because I truly understand the feeling—I understand his situation perfectly. I myself struggled with such imaginations for years. “Dirty imaginations like watching life leave a person’s eyes and being responsible for it?” I question. “And you’ve become so obsessed with the idea of being capable of causing so much damage to a person? You obsess over the look on a person’s face when you hunt them down and take life from them?”

I know I can't live in an illusion and believe that she will come to my arms when she calls just what thoughts well we can't do that to her and much less her mother believe that everything passed without sorrows and we live happily ever after. Who has never lived an illusion or an impossible love? Even for a short time, it's not uncommon to imagine what my life would be like if something that I'd been waiting for happened, or who knows how to dream of a long-desired relationship with someone like mine and Ana's! Something so common that it doesn't present anything unusual, at least for us. Thinking about what our future would be like and fighting for it to really be lived should be something

I threw a handful of grass, that I had plucked and wanted to yell out in exasperation. “Maybe try getting really mad and think about fire.” Alexia suggested. I guess it wouldn’t be that hard, I was already past mad. So, I tried focusing on a spot of grass just in front of me and I imagined the flames in my head. I imagined them forming slowly, then getting bigger and the soft orange glow of the flames, licking the blades of grass and catching them ablaze. I imagined the flames being hot and burning the grass until it spread to another patch of grass as it disintegrated the parts of the grass it touched.