>And what loving-kindness, oh Lord, what loving-kindness I felt at times in those dreams of mine! in those "flights into the sublime and the beautiful"; though it was fantastic love, though it was never applied to anything human in reality, yet there was so much of this love that one did not feel afterwards even the impulse to apply it in reality; that would have been superfluous. Everything, however, passed satisfactorily by a lazy and fascinating transition into the sphere of art, that is, into the beautiful forms of life, lying ready, largely stolen from the poets and novelists and adapted to all sorts of needs and uses. I, for instance, was triumphant over everyone; everyone, of course, was in dust and ashes, and was forced spontaneously to recognise my superiority, and I forgave them all. I was a poet and a grand gentleman, I fell in love; I came in for countless millions and immediately devoted them to humanity, and at the same time I confessed before all the people my shameful deeds, which, of course, were not merely shameful, but had in them much that was "sublime and beautiful" something in the Manfred style. Everyone would kiss me and weep (what idiots they would be if they did not), while I should go barefoot and hungry preaching new ideas and fighting a victorious Austerlitz against the obscurantists. Then the band would play a march, an amnesty would be declared, the Pope would agree to retire from Rome to Brazil; then there would be a ball for the whole of Italy at the Villa Borghese on the shores of Lake Como, Lake Como being for that purpose transferred to the neighbourhood of Rome; then would come a scene in the bushes, and so on, and so on
i cannot watch an anime or read a book of fiction without feeling the urge to pause every 5 or so minutes and insert myself into one of the plot lines or themes which would give me unbridled control over the feelings of others; to be a savior or a hero whom others prostrate themselves before you begging for recognition only to be callously and obstinately ignored, accumulating fervid emotion for you in the hearts of those once commanding figures now willingly coerced into submission by the awesome power of your character- i feel i am more alive in my wildest dreams than i am actually living my life
Have you read The Book of Disquiet yet?
If you get good enough at daydreaming it becomes indistinguishable from regular dreaming. It's pretty neat.