Yeah I thought that’s what you meant 
sorry, was just being silly (again).
That’s true probably your movie brain, heheh.
Only natural 
I am a bit more tempted these days. But it would depend on a few things.
I’m not sure. I think it was in the process of looking for you. It was right outside the exhibition for some inexplicable reason. There were a few other people (old ladies?!) and lots of red earth. I was standing right at the edge of it.
Maybe that and childhood memories.
I´m still largly on the “no” side, but just in general nothing personal!
Were you still in London or already on Mars?
I thought you’d say that 
although that could be where I got it from I guess.
“Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling through
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
The dream that you wish will come true.”
True story!
Quoth @milanfahrnholz:
De meeste dromen zijn bedrog
maar als ik wakker word naast jou dan droom ik nog.
Ik voel je adem en zie je gezicht
je bent een droom die naast me ligt.
Je kijkt me aan en rekt je uit
een keer in de zoveel tijd komen dromen uit!
Sure you guys, in my dreams I am a disney princess who´s fluent in dutch. 
Even before he played TWP?
Nice card idea 
Maybe he had nightmares about robots wanting to kill all humans?
I’d say serenade under her balcony (like the solo of highway star)
I know that Dutch song… believe me, don’t google it! 
Like…singing it like this?
I already translated it! 
That’s ok. Just don’t listen to it 
alert! (thanks @Frenzie)
Of course!! 
Unless you can double yourself playing thirds and fourths in real time.
So today I wrote him for his birthday because I have sworn to never stop if he doesn´t stop either. And his reply was so nice, I feel like we´re still with each other despite not having spoken in almost a decade.
Why don’t you hop into your car and meet him? 
That will never happen. It´s not an issue of time or distance. It´s all in the past, now.
So, I dreamed @milanfahrnholz.
He was living in the same flat complex I live since six months. “What are the odds”, I asked myself, but then I also asked myself “why didn’t we ever meet in person in these six months? Maybe it’s time I go and buzz him”. But then I said “meh, maybe tomorrow”.
I don’t remember the story of the whole dream except that there were old castles and other stuff (I watched Dragon Trainer yesterday) but then I found myself in Disneyland wearing a Guybrush T-shirt, and a worker dressed as the Marquis DeSinge started talking in French and wanted to take a pic of me. He took his reflex and snapped a photo, which exited like a Polaroid. It showed it to me, but it was a pic of younger me in Disneyland with my parents, sister and another person who was the ex boyfriend of a cousin of mine and is a photographer. DeSinge went on explaining in a broken Italian that he was a colleague of said ex boyfriend, that he took that photos years ago, that he recognized me and he wanted to show it to me. And I thought it had to do with the Guybrush vs DeSinge story in Tales of Monkey Island.
My daughters are playing in a playground and I have LOTS of broken green rubber bands in my pockets. Then a tall man, around 60 years old, a little overweight, with a grey mustache and a very German face approaches me and asks in English “so, what are we going to do with all these rubber bands?”. I understand it’s Milan. I say “some ball like in Sam&Max, maybe” (even if it was yarn), he smiles, nods and says nothing else.
We are now in our buildings’ underground parking lot, my daughters are jumping around pretending the floor is trampolines, and I get a call. I leave Milan alone, going where there’s a better reception, and I answer. It’s Gianluigi Buffon, who tells me “you know what I hate? recursion”. I don’t understand, so he continues “do you happen to know what happened to the black Golf?”. “I didn’t do anything to the black Golf”, I answer. “You parked the white Golf last time, did you hit the black Golf? There’s a bump in the front”. “No, that wasn’t me”, I say, but I’m not sure anymore “I mean, I may have touched the black Golf while parking, but I didn’t hit it hard!”.
The end. Yes, pretty anticlimactic.
Can we agree that dreams sometimes mean jack shit?
That sounds like a weird cross of my dad and myself.
Now what in the sauerkraut is that supposed to mean? 
I suppose the same that Swiss German people meant when they told me “you have a clearly Italian face”.
I don’t know… the man in my dream just looked German. Just as Wayne Rooney looks British, you know?
