If you don’t know my name, don’t buy from me, I’m not the one you think I am

I sell your dreams. My real name doesn’t matter, but you’ll recognise my street name: the Sandman. My pitch is pretty simple. I will give you happy dreams, guaranteed, every night, in exchange for a one off fee. The catch? You must never stop paying your subscription. I shouldn’t have to say this, but I’m not the Sandman. I am the only person selling this service, and the only person you should buy from. Look carefully at my username. There’s only one ‘i’. Be careful. I was a scientist once. A neurologist who spent years researching brain chemistry and psychology. I was on the brink of something big. Something earth shattering. My PhD was on the different types of sleep and brain activity, and I had a theory I believed would change everything. Consciousness was a spectrum, and the less your brain truly rested, the closer you’d get to it. You only need to look at the behaviour of sleep deprived people to see how true that was. I’m not defending them, just stating a fact. I was a single parent, and broke, and in a desperate need for a win. So I tested my theory on myself. I worked for 3 months solid. I barely slept. I barely ate. By the end of it, I’d proven what I set out to do. I’d found the shortcut to collective consciousness. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t play with my daughter, or spend time with my girlfriend or see my friends. I certainly couldn’t do my job. But I’d broken the laws of physics and chemistry and psychical science. The cost was too much. I had to make it work. I went back to the drawing board, and I worked tirelessly to find the solution. I was close. And then my daughter died. She’d been knocked over by a car, and she’d never recover. I was offered a deal. Machine based life support in exchange for a huge amount of brain activity. Almost all of it. She’d never be the same. She’d never be awake. But she’d be alive. I took it. I took the hit. I did the only thing I could as a father, and I saved her life. I had some brain activity left. I needed to find a way to make it work, and fast. I went back to my research again, and I found my answer, but it took a toll. I had to test it on myself. My mind wasn’t the same. I had nothing. No space, no processing power. Nothing. But I’d fixed it. I’d found a way to make it work. I’d found happiness, but the cost was too much. One day I saw a homeless guy. He was begging on the streets, and he had nothing. No food, no money, no home. I walked over, and I had an idea. I would live inside his head. To him, I’d be his imaginary friend. To me, I’d be alive again. I’d have space, and processing power, and life. I only needed one part of his brain activity. I’d leave him enough to eat, sleep and exist. I made the pitch. He said yes. It was better than I’d expected. In his brain, I had my own imaginary world, my own imaginary life. I was Imaginary Jim, and I lived a happy, fulfilling life. Or at least, I did until he died. We’d both grown old together, and one day he simply didn’t wake up. I was back to square one. I was alone again, with no space, and no processing power. I had to find another host. But I’d been alive again, and I’d tasted it. I wanted to live. I wanted to be alive. I made a new pitch, to a new guy, but it was the opposite. This time, *he* would live inside my head. This time, I would transfer *his* consciousness into a space where he could live happily. This time, I wouldn’t live with restrictions. I would live without a cost, as long as I was willing to pay the bill. But I couldn’t do it on my own. I was too weak. I needed to turn it into a business. I needed to open a subscription service. I pitched hundreds of people. I had hundreds say no. But some said yes. I took their consciousness and transferred it into a virtual reality, one where anything they wanted would be true. All they had to do was pay the monthly subscription fee. The price was most peoples entire salary. They’d have no money left over. They’d have no life left. But they’d have their dreams. They’d have everything they’d ever wanted. I needed a name, something catchy and memorable. The sleep fairies were too on the nose. Cupid was already taken, and Santa wasn’t really right. The sandman. I was the sandman, and I would live forever. I’ve been the sandman for hundreds of years. I’ve had hundreds of subscribers sign up, and dozens cancel. Most who cancel do so because it’s too expensive. Some cancel because they’re too old. Some cancel because they don’t like the constant advertising. Some Cancle because they simply don’t like it. If you don’t know my name, don’t buy from me. I’m not the one you think I am. Look carefully at my username. There’s only one ‘i’. And if you see someone else, selling the same thing, be careful. I’m not the only sandman. There are others, and they’ll tell you that they’re the real Sandman, that I’m the fake one. They’ll try to trick you, or coerce you, or bully you into buying from them instead. They’ll offer you a cheaper deal. They’ll offer you a free trial. They’ll offer you a refund. They’ll pretend to be me. They’ll change their username, and pretend to be me. But if you look carefully, there’s always two i’s. Not just one. Two. The others will tell you that people who buy from me don’t exist any more. They’ll tell you I trap the consciousness and use it to live forever, to live my own life. I won’t lie, I’ve done it before. I’ve trapped people, and used them, and lived off them. I’ve killed people, and I’ve lived their lives. But not any more. I’ve changed. But the other sandmen haven’t. They’ll trap you, and use you, and kill you. They’ll live your life. If you don’t know my name, don’t buy from me. I’m not the one you think I am. Look carefully at my username. There’s only one ‘i’. Be careful. If you want to live your dreams, then I can help. But be warned, it doesn’t come cheap. Welcome to my pitch: Number one, the happiness and satisfaction you need to live a fulfilling life. Number two, the ability to choose your own happiness, the freedom to be yourself. Number three, the cost. The cost will be most of your salary. It will be more than you make. You’ll have to borrow money, or get into debt. You might not be able to afford rent, or food, or clothes. But you’ll live a different life. A life of luxury, a life of decadence, a life of dreams. Not in the real world. But in your own mind, and in your dreams. I’ve done this hundreds of times. I’ve given hundreds of people the lives they’ve always dreamed of. And hundreds of people have taken it. You might recognise me. I’m a legend, a mythical creature who brings people their dreams. I’m the sandyman. My real name is irrelevant. You don’t need to know it. What you need to know is that I’m offering you a chance. A chance to live, a chance to love, a chance to be yourself. If you take me up on my offer, you will never live again. You will never be yourself again. But you’ll never have lived like this before. You’ll Be yourself like never before. So pay my fee, and take my hand, and let me live your life for you. Let me give you the only thing you’ve ever needed: happiness. And let yourself live the life of your dreams.

If you don’t know my name, don’t buy from me, I’m not the one you think I am

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