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.
I had a dream about you. You were walking on stilts, and my neck was as long as a giraffe’s. It was perfect, because every time I’d lean in to kiss you, everyone on the other side of the fence at the zoo would begin cheering.
I had a dream about you. You were writing a book on how to write a book, and I was reading a book on how to read a book. You thought we were meant to be together, and I thought we were meant to be in a library.
I had a dream about you. You were a shallow person, and I was a public swimming pool with no deep end. In my mind you thirsted for me, but you probably just thought I was a giant toilet that didn’t flush.
I had a dream about you. Due to the underwater nature of our relationship, I kept referring to you as Mrs. Fishface. You probably thought I was being racist, because you were in fact a dolphin.
I had a dream about you. We were out to dinner at some place fancy, like the Library of Congress. I ate a thick, rare James Joyce novel, and you ate a pig that looked like a congressman.
I had a dream about you. I was sitting on your couch, relating my succession of ideas on subconscious influence. I asked you what they meant, and you told me that free associations were a bad way to advance my political career.
I had a dream about you last night. I could fly. I was going to use this power to impress you, but you were too heavy to carry, so I won you over with my personality instead
I had a dream about you. I was a ventriloquist trying to share your fashion secrets, but you wouldn’t talk. So we put on a strip show for the department store sale, and I was arrested for theft – I took away your dignity as a mannequin.
I had a dream about you. We installed Dr. Robert Jarvik’s artificial heart in a mannequin and brought it to life, only to later kill it because a creature that’s all fake heart and no brain is what’s commonly called a “politician,” and must...
I had a dream about you. At first you were a mannequin, and I was a fashion designer. Then, inexplicably, we switched roles and I became the mannequin. But instead of putting clothes on me, you laughed at my nakedness, and you sold me to the owner of...
Writers are liars, my dear, surely you know that by now? And yet, things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot.
To awaken within the dream is our purpose now. When we are awake within the dream, the ego-created earth-drama comes to an end and a more benign and wondrous dream arises. This is the new earth.
If someone thinks your ideas, the dreams bubbling up inside of you, are stupid, welcome to the Club.
I want the peace in knowing that is wasn’t for lack of hustling that I missed a target for my dream. I want to know that the one thing in my control was under control.
Success = Dream x Plan x Work Conscious dreams are essential components of your success. When you are backed up by a convincing dream, meticulous planning, and 100% execution, you are bound to be victorius.
I had a dream about you. The ice melted so quickly in our relationship that I didn’t even have a chance to tell you I loved you. So I just sat there, alone, slurping up what was left of us in a straw.
I had a dream about you. You were storing my brain in a pickle jar in the fridge, and I only discovered it when I went to garnish my hamburger. Mindless and hungry, I was a US politician’s ideal voter.
I had a dream about you. You were trying to perfect the art of sexual intercourse, and I offered you the use of one of my statues to practice on. Artists have to stick together, even if one artist is sticking it to another artist’s work.
I had a dream last night I was awake through the pregnancy but I fell asleep at birth when I awoke I was Pinocchio and stuck inside a tree, does that mean I don't have to listen to jazz anymore?
