Essays:
Going Global
Social Integrity
Corporate Evolution
Interpretations:
Interpretation #1
Interpretation #2
Interpretation #3
Creative Writing:
Cool Poetry
Tame Poetry
Short Stories
Dreams
Quenchable Quotes
CV:
Résumé
Resumen en español
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Prelude to Early Morning Dream
Not the Actual Dream, But Real Life.
The middle class home overlooked a majestic mountain range from a decent altitude. We'd sit at the dining room table and eat grand meals, which consisted of many varieties of fish, usually baked or boiled, and seasoned deliciously. Boiled, egged buttered potatoes, vegetables, and sweet soda complimented the fish. Dessert would consist of freshly picked blueberries, strawberries or raspberries, with milk and sugar. Earlier that day, I had picked them while trekking in the mountains of my front yard.
The large plethora of windows allowed for a view which looked down at a large serene lake, while mountains lurked at all angles imaginable. And due to the Nordic latitude, the sun met the end of the distant earth at midnight. Then, as dusk closed earth's eyes, dawn would emulate them, causing them to open back up, simultaneously.
This is where I spent many summers of my childhood.
The house has recently been sold by my uncle after the timely deaths of old age for both of my grandparents, who lived into their 87th year respectively. They'd been born just before the 1st world war, and were starting to procreate children during the 2nd. They'd lived through what was way before my time, things that I'd only been forced to mildly learn about in school. They lived and died where the climate and terrain were harsh, and the air was pure.
Actual Dream
Now, this house, with this view, is where my dream started to take place, my subconscious took me to Norway, where my conscious had been on several occasions. In the conscious, as well as the sub-conscious, my grandparents were alive. But in the subconscious, they were as healthy as when I was a baby, possessing vivacity. We were speaking Norwegian, it was winter, I'd never been there in winter, I saw clearly the immaculate view from the living room, of the lake called 'Kalendsvanne'. I saw the blue sky, and touched the large window, feeling its winter cold. There were a whole bunch of Bostonians in the room, whom I knew, but can't recall who they were. I then awoke, calmed.
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