I have a dream. My dream is to graduate from college with a masters. Start my own pastry cafe. Write and publish twenty books. Ride a llama. Become president of the United States, and maybe someday, become the supreme ruler of the world, or universe. Whichever comes first. I have many dreams. That doesn't mean I believe they'll happen. I've been told from several sources that it's good to have a dream whether big or small, even if it's just to shake hands with a celebrity, or to see a real polar bear anywhere other than a zoo. Or maybe to eat fifty different kinds of mushrooms. It's good to have a dream, because otherwise... what is life? A constant routine of drab blah blah blah, small happiness(es), and lots of disappointments. I tell everyone who'll listen to me that I'll be the next Mark Twain or Toni Morrison. I'll be a 'something.' I make it look like I'm so sure of myself and that my life isn't just a statistic. But really, I'm all talk. Is this what it means to dream big? Because all I'm doing is dreaming.