Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you donโt realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. My dreams by Randy Winehouse (readict .txt) ๐
- Author: Randy Winehouse
Book online ยซMy dreams by Randy Winehouse (readict .txt) ๐ยป. Author Randy Winehouse
I spend at least fifty thousand hours to dreaming . What I dream about
can be very different from one hour to another and from one dream to another.
Many things affect what I dream about .I know that dreaming is a natural
process of my brain.My dreams are secretive emotions.
Sometimes I need to know how the process of aging works.
I need to understand the universally-accepted theory of aging and tohave some
potential explanations of how we age.
The likelihood of each hypothesis is considered roughly equal. I try to focus
on the workings of different parts of the body, from the molecular level
to the organism level of becoming worn out.
The temporal world in which I live encompasses everything I know.
My knowledge comes from my trust of life and I have no idea where I came from,
and no idea where I am headed;
I live in a world of blind ,leading blind. A vital component of this reality
exists in a form that is neither provable, nor ideal. This supposedly perfect
form of measurement, known as time, runs my life until I fall so far behind
that my body finally gives out and die. This merciless device, described
in three forms, past, present and future, drives on as I write these words.
These simple words hold all the power ever known on earth. They are the
essential elements to my life as well as the formula that keeps me mortal.
Without it, perhaps, I could not exist; maybe I would become immortal, like
gods.
Publication Date: 02-04-2010
All Rights Reserved
Comments (0)