Blah, blah, blah. That's the standard noise that comes out of people's mouths when they talk about their dreams. Well I'm going to start telling you about my dreams now, so it's up to you if you want to stop reading, but you'd be a scoundrel and a god damn son of a bitch if you did.
You probably think that your dreams are really interesting and people love hearing about them, but I assure you they don't. My dreams, on the other hand, are masterpieces of the brain. My dreams aren't scattered cocktails of bizarre and unrelated events spewed forth by my subconscious. They are well paced and beautifully written pieces of art. It is my job to dream. That's my job, I'm a dreamer and I'm probably the only one.
People come to me and say "Oh, beautiful dreamer, tell me what you dream." and, for a fair price, I tell them. You've probably seen lots of my dreams on the big screen. Independence Day, that was one of mine. Blade Runner, Alien 3, Rocky IV, all my dreams. I fell asleep on the train for five minutes once. When I woke up I'd dreamt the entire Matrix Trilogy. Not a day goes by without some desperate washed up director comes knocking at my door begging for ideas.
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