This is how dangerous parasocial relationships can form. Dream doesn't love you. He can't love you. Dream doesn't KNOW you. He can appreciate you but he can't fucking love you.
I used to be a real ad
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This person...
twitchquotes:
👆 
this person fucked this person in the ass 
this person fucked this person in the ass
twitch chat
Jigsaw
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Did you ever hear the tragedy of the man who fell into the river in Lego city?
Did you ever hear the tragedy of the man who fell into the river in Lego city? I thought not. It's not a story the Playmobils would tell you. It's a LEGO legend. Man Lego was a Dark Lord of building, so powerful and so wise he could use the bricks to influence the constructions to create rescue helicopters… He had such a knowledge of building that he could even keep the ones he cared about from falling. The dark side of the LEGOs is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural. He became so powerful… the only thing he was afraid of was losing his power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, then his apprentice threw him into the river in LEGO city. Ironic. He could rescue others from the river, but not himself.
Lego City
Tragedy of Darth Plagueis The Wise
Ninja's questionable tweet (wife brings me a sandwich, not asked for)
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."