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En tale som kan tolkes på så mange måter.
On August 28, 1968, Martin Luther King Jr. touched the hearts of millions by stating, "I have a dream". I'm going to start mine, by saying I have a reality: There are millions of people dying everyday, on the long walks to catch a drop of clean water, when it turns out not to be.
I have a reality. There are millions of people who have never felt thirsty, because one phonecall to the au pair will get them commercial water before the conversation ends. And suddenly, that's supposed to be a dream?
We are forced to believe that hell exists beneath the earth, whilst heaven exists above. We are forced to believe that hell is full of hate, and heaven full of love. Both are places we can not reach, only so we don't have the chance of proving them wrong. Like we can't reach a perfect reality, so we call them dreams although they can be found living elsewhere. Like we can't have the beutiful girls, so we put them on the television so we don't have to strive for them. Like we don't owe ourselves the pleassure of being happy this life time, so we wait for heaven although it exists right here.
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