I had a dream about you. You were on a bike going 70 miles an hour, I could see you approaching my car in the mirror. You were trying to say something so, I jumped on the brakes as hard as I could, I guess I forgot I had tied your bike on my bumper.
All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake up in the day to find it was vanity, but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.
A 'dreamer' is one possesses the gift of dreaming by day. Sure, many dream at night, but don’t also small babies and animals dream at night? To dream by day and dream aloud: Is this not the reward for all the troubles we humans must face?
I had a dream about you. We were both surrounded by poor people, but there was one big difference—I was poor, but you were rich. That’s why I was shocked when you tried to rob me. After all, I was one of many who voted you into power.
I had a dream about you. You were being hung. I had a sword in one hand and a stool in the other. I couldn’t decide which one to use, so I stood on the stool and threw myself on the sword. It was the least I could do to protest capital punishment.
I had a dream about you. You looked like Hulk Hogan’s nose, and your legs looked like his mustache. I admired them and wondered how many squats you could do. Your mustache could probably run a marathon, while my mustache looks like a ghost.
The cattle crouched round them in soft shadowy clumps, placidly munching, and dreaming with wide-open eyes. The narrow zone of colour created by the firelight was like the planet Earth - a little freak of brightness in a universe of impenetrable shadows
I had a dream about you. I think we made love, but I can’t be certain because the scenes were censored by the Moral Authorities. The thing that pisses me off is my grocery list was identical to the Blacklist, so I was starving throughout the sequence.
A bitter awareness that everything is a sensation of mine and at the same time something external, something not in my power to change. Ah, how often my own dreams have raised up before me as things, not to replace reality but to declare themselves its equal
I had a dream about you last night... it was about a dreamer and a drifter walking into a bar. They start talking and swapping stories. No matter what the drifter says the dreamer always one-upped him. The drifter then woke up and realized he was the dreamer.
I had a dream about you. I was a giraffe, and you were a stripper using my neck as a pole. We made a great team, sort of like the 1987 Cincinnati Reds, minus the Pete Rose cheating scandal. Well, baseball called it cheating, but I call it enterprising.
I had a dream about you. You had just died, and I was debating putting your body into either a coffin or a shoebox. My decision was based solely on spatial concerns, so I chose the ashtray, because I thought it best to smoke your essence like a cigarette.
There is a majesty to lucid dreaming that is almost beyond words. To find yourself present and aware in another world, a universe within your own mind, is simply so far removed from our daily "normal" experiences that it can quite literally take your breath away.
I had a dream about you. You looked like you, but you also looked like a mannequin. And I looked like me, but I also looked like a mannequin. Between the two of us, we were too fake even for Hollywood. And as such, we were forced to reside in Washington DC.
I had a dream about you. You wondered if there were any more honest men left in the world, and so did I, because I worked for the government, and if there were any honest men left in the world then it was my job to find them and kill them. After I robbed them.
