Dreamercialism
I am walking down the streets of neon lights and gleaming billboards. A big, brown donut follows me till the corner, telling me about lemon cream and chocolate topping. I run away. More sparkling billboards blind me. I squint, then close my eyes. Someone shoves a flier into my hand. It promises seventy percent discount for a new haircut, manicure and pedicure if I make it in the first five customers. I crumple the flier and toss it into a bin nearby. The bin is glittering with black and white. It's an advertisement for disposable trash bags. I scowl and keep walking.
A walking slice of pizza is waving its gloved hand at me, inviting me to the pizza house to try the new salami pizza with eighty percent discount. If I bring a …show more content…
Buses and trams are covered with advertisements. Walking sausages and telephones chase me again. A car tire with hands and a taco with human's head join them.
I run.
I see a friend by the movie theater, waiting for the doors to open.
“Heard about this movie in my dream,” he says. “Can you believe it? Talk about mystery.”
“Talk about trouble,” I think, but say nothing. I had dreamed about that movie too.
My head starts spinning around, overwhelmed by the perfume odors, the smells of food, the sparkling colors and neon lights. Fish cans and sandwiches chase me down the streets, try to foist on me their fliers, testers, menus, discount cards. I avoid. I walk faster. I run. I escape.
It’s night, but I don’t see the sky. It's shielded with blazing lights: red, blue, yellow, green, pink, purple; they mingle, they shine, they glimmer, and lure into the reign of commercials.
"You need us," they claim, "You can't live without us."
I go to bed. I sleep but don’t rest. I see them again. The fliers chase me. The people from the banners wink at me. The posters fill my last free space.
I wake up in sweat. I don’t want commercials in my dreams. My dreams are my last haven, they belong to me, they can't be rented. No, not for …show more content…
I need to hear what they have done. No, I think, not that. Not my sanctuary.
“Yessss!" he yells. "We're advertising in dreams now! An expensive service, but worth every penny.”
I wake up in sweat.
I was being chased by patties with raisins, lemon donuts and green bananas.
I pull the drawer open and take out my gun. I load it and press it to my temple. I don’t want to shoot. I want to live. I used to love life so much. But it was before. In times long past, when life was beautiful and so was the world. I lower the gun and look out the window. The sky is gone. There are just billboards. Big, vast, tall... Where are my stars? I don’t need those shiny banners, I want stars. Please, give me back my stars.
I run out. The gun is still squeezed in my hand. I am overwhelmed by the amount of advertisements I meet on my way. But I don’t want a new drier, a new microwave oven, a new car... I don't want ther discounts, i don't care for their sales.
I want my stars. Where are my stars?
I run down the endless streets but can’t find a free space. We need to use every bit, I remember the man's words from the
I am walking down the streets of neon lights and gleaming billboards. A big, brown donut follows me till the corner, telling me about lemon cream and chocolate topping. I run away. More sparkling billboards blind me. I squint, then close my eyes. Someone shoves a flier into my hand. It promises seventy percent discount for a new haircut, manicure and pedicure if I make it in the first five customers. I crumple the flier and toss it into a bin nearby. The bin is glittering with black and white. It's an advertisement for disposable trash bags. I scowl and keep walking.
A walking slice of pizza is waving its gloved hand at me, inviting me to the pizza house to try the new salami pizza with eighty percent discount. If I bring a …show more content…
Buses and trams are covered with advertisements. Walking sausages and telephones chase me again. A car tire with hands and a taco with human's head join them.
I run.
I see a friend by the movie theater, waiting for the doors to open.
“Heard about this movie in my dream,” he says. “Can you believe it? Talk about mystery.”
“Talk about trouble,” I think, but say nothing. I had dreamed about that movie too.
My head starts spinning around, overwhelmed by the perfume odors, the smells of food, the sparkling colors and neon lights. Fish cans and sandwiches chase me down the streets, try to foist on me their fliers, testers, menus, discount cards. I avoid. I walk faster. I run. I escape.
It’s night, but I don’t see the sky. It's shielded with blazing lights: red, blue, yellow, green, pink, purple; they mingle, they shine, they glimmer, and lure into the reign of commercials.
"You need us," they claim, "You can't live without us."
I go to bed. I sleep but don’t rest. I see them again. The fliers chase me. The people from the banners wink at me. The posters fill my last free space.
I wake up in sweat. I don’t want commercials in my dreams. My dreams are my last haven, they belong to me, they can't be rented. No, not for …show more content…
I need to hear what they have done. No, I think, not that. Not my sanctuary.
“Yessss!" he yells. "We're advertising in dreams now! An expensive service, but worth every penny.”
I wake up in sweat.
I was being chased by patties with raisins, lemon donuts and green bananas.
I pull the drawer open and take out my gun. I load it and press it to my temple. I don’t want to shoot. I want to live. I used to love life so much. But it was before. In times long past, when life was beautiful and so was the world. I lower the gun and look out the window. The sky is gone. There are just billboards. Big, vast, tall... Where are my stars? I don’t need those shiny banners, I want stars. Please, give me back my stars.
I run out. The gun is still squeezed in my hand. I am overwhelmed by the amount of advertisements I meet on my way. But I don’t want a new drier, a new microwave oven, a new car... I don't want ther discounts, i don't care for their sales.
I want my stars. Where are my stars?
I run down the endless streets but can’t find a free space. We need to use every bit, I remember the man's words from the