The Me in My Dreams Is Ridiculously Handsome

I often dream, and the dreams take me to all kinds of places. There are all kinds of “me” in my dreams, living all kinds of lives in all kinds of worlds. The other versions of me are so diverse. It seems like they do just about everything. There’s a cold, handsome guy who slays demons and vanquishes evil. A powerful big shot who pretends to be weak at an interstellar academy. An assistant to a domineering CEO. An idol singer who’s become a worldwide sensation. A little monster in a horror-world mental hospital that keeps trying to catch me and chop me up. A sheltered noblewoman in ancient times who never leaves the house. A villager farming in a pixel world. A child fleeing in every direction after dinosaurs invade. An actor swept up in the first sparks of revolution. A roguish playboy with a carefree streak. The boss of the first family of the mafia, married with children. I love them so much. They must love me too, right? As for why I’m always so wholeheartedly kind to them, isn’t that only natural? How could you not love yourself? I was saved by the “me” in my dreams, so of course I want to save the “me” in my dreams too.