What happens to Mr Gimlet to Everyone seems to have no precedent. What happens to Mr Gimlet happens in dreams. Or rather, what does not happen. When you sleep, like everyone else, Mr. Gimlet dreams. But her dreams are the least like a dream and as close to reality. So lifelike that are like reality itself. Let me explain. If Mr Gimlet during the day went to the hardware store to buy a box of screws and after that she went to the bank for the rental income and later has been a friend for a beer and chat about the divine and human, that day Mr. Gimlet dreams of going to the hardware store to buy a box of screws, which then goes to the bank to make the rental income and later is with a friend over a beer, talking about the divine and human. That would have been for so long that they can not remember if it was ever otherwise.
the Lord did not appear to have any other Gimlet apparent problem. Leads an orderly life, living in a small apartment you pay in installments and their livelihood is won with the same steady job for years. Is employed by a magazine hobby, as head of the puzzles section. Estimated to have been able to make six thousand or seven thousand puzzles over his life. And every day you make a new alphabet soup, dreams that puzzle. It is as if all were alive twice. Close your eyes when you lie down and start again. And how hard it is to be living a duplicate. Poor Mr. Gimlet.
Gimlet The Lord does not know how to dream like the rest of the world. A friend has told you that your room is a bit suggestive, is not conducive to sleep. So try to create another environment in your bedroom to contribute to the flight of their imaginations night. The walls has become a small museum surreal. Paintings by Paul Delvaux, Max Ernst and Salvador Dalí now adorn his room to shake your subconscious and extract what is so buried. Dim lights, soothing music and incense sticks spread are some of the new incentives. All that encourages your dreams lose their copy function with reality. But every attempt is futile.
Another friend, Feng Shui enthusiast, has said that perhaps her painful dreams are due to the orientation of your furniture. Therefore, it has made reforms in his apartment. But all that has changed is you've dreamed you are doing improvements to your apartment. There has been no improvement.
Each gives some advice to overcome your problem. A friend said that perhaps those dreams, which are double their daily lives, are caused by excessive when consuming too much English cinema manners and to be put aside so unhealthy habit. Others tell you to change your diet, you should quit smoking, you have to try to sleep sitting up, it is urgent to change the apartment, because his was a well of bad vibrations and negative energies.
He tries everything in its power, but as usual, the only thing that proves dreams is all that is in your hand. And Mr Gimlet is increasingly desperate.
And then Mr. Gimlet thinks: "If you can not change your dreams, change your life." That same night he dreams he thinks: "If you can not change your dreams, change your life. "
Mr. Gimlet has left his job in the Journal of hobbies. With the money I have saved has been spent on travel and bought a saxophone Second-hand, an instrument that has caught his attention since he was a child. Practice every afternoon following the instructions of a correspondence course, whether at home, in a park or walking on a roof. To the woman he liked for years and never have dared to speak to me, has given his phone number and told him: "Call me." And the woman called. They have dinner together. And then you have kissed. And then. And then fired. And then he has traveled to El Carlo for a coffee. And then he has gone to Argentina to see the moon. And then he has gone to Senegal to see a sunrise. And then he has spent looking in the eyes of passers-by and walk streets that never had the courage to go. And after both then lying on the ground has to figure out ways to hide the clouds. That cloud looks like a map, that cloud looks like a pith helmet, that cloud looks like a cactus, that cloud looks like a cloud, says Mr Gimlet. And now he has to get in a hot air balloon to see their city through the eyes of heaven. And laugh out loud as I had never laughed in his life. And spent a month traveling with a circus for their European tour. And he has made friends with the trainer, the acrobats, a trapeze and a horse named "Oscar Wilde." And standing on the horse, with one foot on balance, been drinking wines of Alsace and recited poems that have made him mourn until dawn.
That cloud looks like a bike, think the Lord Gimlet. And get on it and disappears into the horizon, the rhythm of pedaling a song he is whistling.
