Why do they call it dreams

I slipped past the darkness that regularly inhabits the space behind your eyelids, into a room with no pancakes. I couldn't make any pancakes either, so I had to suffice with Gyoza from a non-stick pan. The heat was turned on high, I tried to tell them it was leaching into our food but I forgot the way it is to communicate such things. It smelled like Armani, I only know this becuase later there were perfume samples. Now all I can think about is Armani Pancakes, and wonder why I smell different.