Friday, March 22, 2013

Stream Of Consciousness

Stream of consciousness

During the early morning of February 25, 2012 I dreamed virtually Ernest Hemingway. possibly it was the blue moon outside my window that brought him to live, but there he was in a fashion envelop by yellow walls. He was seated naked on his fathers experienced chair with his legs rested against the windowsill. The room was chilly, and the summer wind was playing with the curtains. His desk was in a plentitude with papers and old cups and ashtray full of cigarette butts. He had lost weight, and he was pale and his cheekbones sharp, when he moody around and looked at me with sleepy eyes. He did not looked surprised not oddly glad either, he just noticed me, and then turned around again and glanced his eyes on the window and the stars outside. And the origination was quiet. Intoxicated calm, and it affected my body in a conflicting way I felt so light in the night. As a feather. I was four years old again, at the time when I thought I could fly. peradventure I could. Perhaps the dreams held me up and made me wings of the words. Perhaps I had so much fantasy, at that time, that the fantasy became reality.
that the stars are still the same, I said. They leave behind forever be the same. In hundred years, when no one can reckon that I once existed and was a resident of this planet.

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They leave ring the dance of stars, and they will call them by the same names, as we do today. But I will be forgotten. My parents and my grandparents will be forgotten. Even you and the other great poets of the time will be forgotten. Because the truth is, at a moment we will all be forgotten. No ones remembrance lives forever. There was a quivering silence between us, as though he wanted to say something, but did not know how to express himself. His breathing was deep and heavy.
I had never seen him before, not as much as a form picture, but at the moment when I stepped into the room and watched him sitting on the fragile tree chair, I already knew it was him. I sat down on my knees...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Orderessay



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