For what dreams do men live for? Dreams of glory, victory, success, comfort, pleasure. Grand, noble dreams. Dark, wicked dreams. Would living the dream satiate as drinking quenches thirst? Or, maybe, as salt water parches and pure water revives, so one dream destroys and another brings life.
As for I, I have had few dreams. Mostly I have just wanted to be happy. For my days to be filled with endless mirth. My senses have always been dull, oblivious to the finer details of life, preferring strong flavors and tastes. My vision grows worse and more shortsighted every year. What difference is there between I and any other animal? Seeing only what is before me, striving only for what I can see.
I wonder if animals will be judged on that wonderful and terrible day of judgment. Shall a dog who saved his master's life be given a hero's reward? Shall a serpent be damned for murdering a child? A judge of the living and the dead, worthy of his position, would know the nature of a dog and a snake, and give his verdict accordingly.
If I was judged according to the standards one would judge a dog, I would deserve praise. I would earn praise from my master and, if I was lucky, a biscuit. Oh, joy, biscuit! But what am I thinking? I am no dog. I am a man. And I will not be judged as a dog, as a ferret, or any other creature. I will be judged as a man.
Could it be that the aspirations and hopes of a dog are not worthy of a man? That much seems obvious. But for what dreams should men live for? Fame fades, pleasure becomes hollow, and fortune provides no utility once the mortal coil expires.
I dreamed a dream...
