The only God who can lead you out of trouble when you are pursuing your dreams is the one who gave you that assignment. Neglecting him from your plans is tantamount to commitment of suicide.
Melanie thinks: when your dreams come true, your true has moved. You've already stopped being the person who had the dreams, so it feels more like a weird echo of something that already happened to you a long time ago.
Your dreams can change the environment which was not conducive for it at first! However it is a good initiative for the dreams that would change one society to be nursed in another environment, before being transplanted to strive in its original envi...
You go from dream to dream inside me. You have passage to my last shabby corner, and there, among the debris, you’ve found life. I’m no longer sure which of all the words, images, dreams or ghosts are ‘yours’ and which are ‘mine.’ It’s ...
Don't you see? You created this forest! It is your imagination that has given these trees the water to grow. It is your hopes that blazed a path through it. It is your dreams that give it the magic. All of this was created from within you!
Each of us have a choice to make. Will we choose to achieve our dreams or will we choose to allow others to use us to achieve their dreams.
I had a dream about you. People didn’t understand our relationship. You were a birdwatcher, and I was a pair of binoculars. You may not have loved me, but your love passed through me, and that was good enough for me.
I had a dream about you. You owned a taco stand, and I looked like a pile of meat, cheese, lettuce, sour cream, and hot sauce. I resented you, and you wanted to enslave me.
I had a dream about you. I was a robot that looked like Robert the Bruce, and you were a Bruce that looked like a Robert. You also danced like a robot, and I danced like a metal mannequin, so we bonded.
I had a dream about you. You were a meow in a vacuum, and I was a bark on carpet. I told your parents I’d have you home by ten, but that was a lie, because you were homeless.
I had a dream about you. We were both flying through the sky like we had wings of cement. We had all the aerodynamics of a brick, but what propelled us was our love for each other.
I had a dream about you. We were in a kitchen shaped like Italy, and we were making burritos for homeless houses. We should do more things like that, and really make a difference indifferently.
I had a dream about you. Two empty benches sat on a man, and I jogged by but did not stop, because I knew if I did I’d fall asleep and that damn tortoise would beat me again.
I had a dream about you. We were at a table, and there were two empty glasses in front of each of us. We were silent and invisible. We were greedy for emptiness, and we wanted twice what nobody else wanted.
I had a dream about you. You smiled at me, and I blushed like a red rose. Then you started sniffing my cheeks and I realized you were a bee and I’d been deceived.
I had a dream about you. The flowers were blooming, but our love was wilting. I tried to water our relationship, but no matter what I did, you were insistent on leaving me for a gardener.
I had a dream about you. You tried to stab me with the pointy end of a football, and I tried to stab you with an extra point. I wasn’t successful, so I took my six points and I went home.
I had a dream about you. I watched you grow up, and though I enjoyed the whole process, it did get pretty uncomfortable sitting in the tree holding those binoculars all those years.
I had a dream about you. We were in a bubble of love, shielded from a hateful world. This bubble bounced like a clear rubber ball, and we were able to compete in dodge ball tournaments—not as players, but as equipment.
I had a dream about you. You were completely naked, except for full body armor, and I was lying on a bed trying to roll a magnum condom on a medieval sword. I wanted a baby, but you killed that idea.
I had a dream about you. You were whispering in Van Gogh’s ear, which was in my pocket at the time, so people thought you were storing secrets in my pants. The NSA got jealous, as they do with everyone.
