From @textuallyhorny : With pre-bookings reaching thousands he was already a literary icon. Yesterday at an event he was asked about his “dreams”. Baffled. Flabbergasted. He realized they weren’t there since quite a while. Scanning his soul-inventory through five minutes of utter silence he scribbled something on the paper & left after a polite thanks. “SOLD”, it read.
From @TheScarlettGirl : Her hair wafted over the water like leaves of a lotus. Her pale skin glistened. Her mouth pursed like buds of a rose. Her face was a sheet of calm. She had never looked more beautiful. If this is what death looks like, I have found my haven. Her eyes closed. And then she awoke.
From @TheScarlettGirl : Where there is beauty in distinction and splendour in peculiarity. Where there is an embrace of selfness and the aura of individuality. She yearned for the freedom to be, in a world of mystique anomaly. She lived in the only place she could call her own. In a dream; a little dream where she belonged.
From @vivekisms : He dreamed of making love to her surrounded by watermelons. Dark black eyes and red mouths. The titillation and the newness intrigued him. She was hesitant. Why do it now? What was the need? They tried. They fucked with a passion unknown to them. Watermelons were the audience. Sadly, their relationship could not be salvaged.
From @themodestninja : In the wee hours of morning, he lay with his book open and his mind closed. He faded in and out of consciousness. A loud thud made him jump. "Who goes there?" No reply. He crept out of the room to see God the other side of the door. Was he dreaming? "Nope," chuckled God.
From @textuallyhorny : There at the corner of the street he used to put up his little stall. Everybody in the locality from the poor to the ultra-rich loved him. Magically, he had something for everyone in his stall. It turned into a landmark for college-goers and a playground for kids. He had perennial buyers. He hawked “Dreams”!
From @floydianbrahman : "What is our dream?", She asked as they waddled over the pebbles in the sand. He gazed into her eyes and found a strange twinkle. She had never mentioned them as a collective. The coy grin on her lips drew him in. Overwhelmed with passion, he said "This." before they melted away in the sunset.
From @nicarus : His target today had mastered a whole new level of elusiveness. He never let a landscape linger more than a few minutes, letting the unknown dictate the terms of their pursuit. He now conjured their minds out of their bodies and trapped him thus for eternity. Thus ended the dream catcher.
From @akshayabansal : The stark reality is such a pain, for in it, she doesn't even know my name. Aren't dreams the place I'd rather be? For that's where she whispers sweet nothings to me. The cynosure of my eyes she'll always be, dreams ensure the fear of rejection doesn't plague me.
From @theslumdawg: I had a Dream. next day, I was thinking "Dream was good, but I don't want that dream to be lived." because if that dream lives, someone else will have to die for it. And I don't want my dream to blamed for someone's death. I stopped dreaming. Now, I prefer Dreaming with eyes open.
From @gauravjagwani : The internet was always my best friend. That day, it had stopped on me for some reason. It was just around my bedtime. My father walked in to wish me good night. He was surprised, I was still awake. ‘What keeps you up, son?’ ‘I can’t sleep without downloading my dreams.’ He sighed. I cried.