Never give in to your dreams

How do you do this time my Internet friends and wall wishers?
I hope that your lives have been treating you with the respect and vitality enriching nutrients of acai berries. I hear they are a superfood, and as we all know from science, super in front of anything means it’s better than the word without super in front of it. For example, a man could save a family burning to death, but a Superman could put out the fire and also stop the world from being destroyed. Not to remind you of his ability to see evil undergarments as well.
You tell me which is of greater value for society.

After all, as we learn in the popular religion, Orthodox Zoroastrianism, like that of my old country, America, your accumulated deeds are like a tantalizing weight of sex and misadventure you carry around with you like an evil eye amulet or a box of your ancestral teeth. Ahura Mazda and Boboa Miata will watch over all and judge us based on our deeds. This is the same in many religions, but I know this one the best as it was my mothers before she passed from screaming pile of flesh and rags to the universe. A beautiful process indeed to mark the transition from child to mother to crony to vapor being.

So what is the meaning of all of this? Why do I bring these things to your eyes? Well many people of the new Aquarium age in the Western world are emblazened by their dreams, the kinds who wear crystals on their fingers and eat various “health loafs”. They are so in love with following their dreams you would think that the dream was some sort of People Magazine’s 50 Sexiest People. The kind of person who thinks that everything that everyone does is good, and the most important thing you can do in life is to follow your passion. Who cares if you have to work, throw of your job pants and put on your passion pants.

Well that’s well and wonderful when you have a money tree you can pluck your wishes and nut meats from, but what of people like my poor father, who wanted nothing more than to be a tv star like Perfect Stranger’s Bronson Pinnochiot, or the Tony the Tiger voice, or the blind piano player from the David Letterman show. Just to be recognized and famous, that was his dream. But life requires money, dreams cost at least 10,000 currency of any culture. Just ask the Vietnamese Dong Banker, or the Ukranian Shekel Hoarder of Olga Pass, or the rascal troubador, Hamburgler himself. He will tell you that many robbles are needed to truly be happy. You don’t think he could just robble one forgiving clown and be done do you? He clearly had invested money in his work attire, the attire of the everyman thief, who we love to hate. Like Joseph Campbell said in his book “How Santa Got His Groove Back”, life is full of crushing debt and sadness which prevent us from truly enjoying it. Perhaps the secret to happiness was actually to be found in the Hamburgling. Perhaps to enjoy a single burger with total awareness is better than to clown a thousand clown days to a million starving children. If you are the clown who cries inside and laughs outside, rather than the burgler who burgles on the outside but smiles on the inside, perhaps the cruelest joke is your own self.

So we should just give up on our dreams, live in realty, marry a common village woman and work in the uranium mines like my father? Work every day and get stuck supporting others and give up on your beautiful self?
Perhaps the real self is the self we find while we are devoting all of our time to uranium poisoning.
Perhaps having a child the real truth?
Should I marry my childhood sweetheart and give up on my drive up Paella stand idea?
What do you think friendhearts?
Are dreams more important than money?
Can you become a hippy without money?
Do men still dig for uranium and dream of tv stardom?
Are questions just answers we already know?

I’ll try to write more soon now that my night school is winding down and I’m a Pascal wizard. Should I learn Qbasic or Lotus Notes next?

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