imagine walking like colin farrell with the irish accent and the beer-can-cigarette combo on both hands.

imagine the right to (literally) piss anywhere you want.

imagine weed.

imagine looking as good as becks in any hairdo, never mind the intelligence.

imagine mass genocide of -insert the name of the group/people/society you despise-.

imagine orgasmic satisfaction of both parties in bed.

imagine san siro, nou camp or old trafford and you're playing alongside the best.

imagine the elimination of humid singapore.

imagine both of you at the sitting at the boot of your car, the other individual bearing your sweater, ciggies or not, talking about anything, under the stars by the bay.


desires are something.

and dreams can be shite when you have recurring nightmares of signing up for a friendster account.