You’ve got to dream. Some men dream only of setting up a company selling t-shirts with the slogan “You’ve got to dream” on them. Other men dream of bigger things. Quite literally.
One man dreamt of creating a device capable of enlarging sperm to one billion times their normal size. Only to be able to ride the sperm from A to B like a horse. Or have two giant sperm pulling a charriot of gold and cedar.
Perhaps his obsession with sperm was inspired by the loss of his testicles at the age of two. Perhaps some men are just destined to dream of sperm.
It was this dream which led this man to his bloody death as he begged for sperm outside a trendy London nightspot.
Oliver, UK.
Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts
120
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.
Dee, UK.
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.
Dee, UK.
34
I always dreamed of being a struggling writer. I'd write and I'd write and I'd know what I was writing was good, and that's what would frustrate me. I just wouldn't be able to catch a break. My wife would eventually lose faith in me and tell me to get a real job and every night I'd worry about bills and my worth to the world as a human being. Curse my luck though! My first book was so good it sold a million copies.
Stephen, L.A.
Stephen, L.A.
6
Sometimes I quite like the idea of being a bird. Not because they can fly. Everyone seems to want to be a bird, just because they can fly, but I doubt I’d use my wings at all, really. It’s more of a lifestyle choice, I think. It’s good to have a dream.
Henry, Chepstow.
Henry, Chepstow.
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