The Solution

When the dream was sketched out on the screen, it turned out to be in black and white. I was a little surprised, as I thought I dreamed in colour, but the lecturer explained that it had to do with my age. Since I was born in the fifties, my childhood television experiences had been colourless, which had left their mark on my dreams, he maintained. The following night I tried to dream up turquoise and plum, but on printout these colours too proved to be different shades of grey. How was I to go about rejuvenating my dreams? I ordered psychedelic pills, subscribed to Cartoon Network, even started exercising, but without effect. Still only black and white. Drama even on the occasions when I found my inner show genuinely comic. I asked the lecturer whether he had any advice for me, and he suggested dementia. Even though that condition was persistent and worked its way from the present backwards, it would eventually crowd out my earliest television experiences and could thus be replaced by new ones in colour. It perhaps sounded a little too advanced, but I was the stubborn type.