Stuff and Nonsense

How can a person have just one dream? I picture an Italian nonna, apron on, bowl in hand, shuffling through the Great Hall of my mind, stealing poignant parts from a million ideas to throw into her greedy sausage machine, in the effort to produce the perfect dream. Dicing up my vacation to the ruins of Machu Picchu. Grinding the Costa Rican treehouse community I long to one day reside in. Compressing into mush my nomadic retirement plan of selling everything, simplifying and living aboard a boat. These and a thousand more, mingled and ground to nothing. Forced to the point of suffocation into a pig's intestine, in an attempt to turn my many passionate dreams into one, delectable, condensed piece of succulence.

No, I have far too many dreams to type into a quick paragraph of Prose. I'll keep my dreams, thank you. You can keep your sausage.