<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934</id><updated>2011-09-12T11:12:16.414-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams before dreaming</title><subtitle type='html'>Wake up and smell the dreams, the coffee's cold now...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>154</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-8135721480332050236</id><published>2010-11-27T20:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T20:03:47.938-06:00</updated><title type='text'>At peace...</title><content type='html'>She passed peacefully tonight at 6.  No more pain, no more agony.  I love you sis...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-8135721480332050236?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8135721480332050236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=8135721480332050236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8135721480332050236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8135721480332050236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/at-peace.html' title='At peace...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-2634223002396114221</id><published>2010-11-24T10:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T10:40:04.905-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost Thanksgiving, almost over...</title><content type='html'>Have been crying a lot since I woke up today.  Today is the day before Thanksgiving and sis is close. The hospice said yesterday she is in the final stages of dying.  Her agony is almost over.  Could be today.  Could be tomorrow.  Don't know what else to write.  Thought I could but I can't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-2634223002396114221?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2634223002396114221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=2634223002396114221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2634223002396114221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2634223002396114221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/almost-thanksgiving-almost-over.html' title='Almost Thanksgiving, almost over...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-2158285752978753684</id><published>2010-11-22T22:32:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T22:53:06.731-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Surpassing statistics...that's Sis</title><content type='html'>Two weeks now without dialysis. Alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all the medical problems (not to mention no really functioning kidney to speak of) who would have thought it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would have thought she would have lived until she got her first kidney transplant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would have thought she would see her two sons grow up(doctors told her not to adopt and that she was being selfish due to her short life expectancy)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would have thought she would receive a second transplant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would have thought she would attend her sons wedding 15 days ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would thought she would surpass the average time to live post dialysis? Most sources give one to two weeks with 10 days being average.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's my sister. Always doing the unexpected. Even in dying she surpasses expectations...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-2158285752978753684?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2158285752978753684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=2158285752978753684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2158285752978753684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2158285752978753684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/surpassing-statistics.html' title='Surpassing statistics...that&apos;s Sis'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-2408763965979043162</id><published>2010-11-16T22:25:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T22:43:29.155-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My sister-reflections and repercussions...</title><content type='html'>Sis is still alive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been reflecting on the course that this year has taken.  From the outset my sister was seriously ill.  She almost died last Christmas. The year has then been one of periodic emergency trips to the hospital, doctor visits, physical therapy, residency at a nursing home rehab facility and more.  She has not had a pleasant year with almost constant intense leg pain,  a handful of seizures, scary high blood pressure and all the other stuff that goes on with what is going on with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is tough stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately being the recluse that I am and having become progressively more reclusive the past few years has not been a good thing with respect to my relations to other family members.  There have been times when I went long periods of time not talking to my parents and others.   However my parents and I have talked at least every weekend since last Christmas when sis entered the hospital.  We have grown close.  This year will end up with us seeing each other three times by Christmas.  Better than not seeing them for many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That expression, 'good comes out of bad'...I believe it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-2408763965979043162?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2408763965979043162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=2408763965979043162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2408763965979043162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2408763965979043162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-sister-reflections-and-repercussions.html' title='My sister-reflections and repercussions...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-4828286333493129645</id><published>2010-11-10T22:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T23:20:58.097-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A time to live, a time to write...</title><content type='html'>To be perfectly honest I have not written anything here(or anywhere) for some time because I felt there was nothing to write about. I don't care to get too personal at the moment about my inner life but let's just say I have been empty inside. It's more than difficult to write from what one does not have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having said that here I am writing as the compulsion to write is more than there tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I talked to Mom and Dad about my more than ill sister. Long story short, the repercussions/consequences of dialysis are beyond the threshold of any redeeming value. So dialysis has now been stopped(she is a three times a weeker), she is on hospice care and has been given a few days to a few weeks to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that her life is near its end fills me with all sorts of emotions and memories. Hmm, I think for now, tonight, I will write of one of my favorite memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memories fade but one stands out from the mid 1960's. One summer we had a pass to a public swimming pool so naturally we went swimming a lot. I remember one particular day we walked the long walk to that public swimming pool. I remember us walking in and she headed to the sunbathing area behind a fence and I to the crowded pool. I remember overhead the loudspeakers blared the Rolling Stones 'I Can't Get No Satisfaction'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satisfaction. Yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-4828286333493129645?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4828286333493129645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=4828286333493129645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4828286333493129645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4828286333493129645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/time-to-live-time-to-write.html' title='A time to live, a time to write...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-6675927175119340865</id><published>2010-06-11T22:21:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T22:52:14.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where is Brandy Vaughan?</title><content type='html'>After two years offline I am finding myself becoming readdicted to cyberspace.  So far it's been a nice venture back.  I keep thinking I should blog and I could have had a field day(night) blogging last night had I come here but I didn't.  And now I don't feel like re-exploring last nights escapades.  My mind is elsewhere...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...at the end of 2007 I discovered a musical artist on MySpace who blew me away.  She had the voice of an angel.  My first impression anyway and I told her so via one of those nifty MySpace comments.   Found myself returning more and more to her profile to listen to her music.   Something about that voice struck me deeply.   She developed a website which was nicely done and was working on releasing her first EP.  Of course I frequented it as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We exchanged messages back and forth a few times on MySpace.  I remember one or two mails that blew me away from a spiritual/intellectual standpoint.   I can't recall the exact substance of those mails now but they seemed to have been God centered.  Truly she was a spiritual person in a very beautiful way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her name was Brandy Vaughan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is she now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, her MySpace profile and personal website are no more.  She had big  dreams of singing yet seems to have disappeared off the web except for a few older links.  Did she lose her dream? Did she lose her voice? Or what? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me I always considered her an angel and I mean that without any ulterior motives attached.  She said things to me which caused me to think more deeply about God at a time when I did not want to.  Her words and her music penetrated my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In ancient literature an angel was considered a messenger from God.  They came with a message and then disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe she really was an angel...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-6675927175119340865?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6675927175119340865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=6675927175119340865' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6675927175119340865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6675927175119340865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2010/06/where-is-brandy-vaughan.html' title='Where is Brandy Vaughan?'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-646564364475136389</id><published>2010-06-04T13:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T13:49:48.115-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>More than two years later...hello...to say it was difficult finding this again and then logging on would be an understatement...stay tuned for unsolicited writings, perhaps even an update of sorts...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-646564364475136389?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/646564364475136389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=646564364475136389' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/646564364475136389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/646564364475136389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2010/06/more-than-two-years-later.html' title=''/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5500432954860551135</id><published>2008-03-31T01:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T01:55:50.156-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An untitled poem...for now...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Years of moonless nights leading into the new day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Visions of the young seen clearly in shadowy array&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Spoken with eyes bent around shoulders in the road&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Night's forgotten forte meshing together a new mode&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Seen by lips filtered in on an instantly innocent affair&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Captivating moments found a seemingly unique flair&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5500432954860551135?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5500432954860551135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5500432954860551135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5500432954860551135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5500432954860551135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2008/03/untitled-poemfor-now.html' title='An untitled poem...for now...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-7147019338373506615</id><published>2008-03-20T02:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T02:46:20.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A new pair of glasses...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tonight I feel grateful for a new clarity.  Sometimes all it takes is a new pair of glasses to see things more clearly.    I have a new pair of glasses on.   And I am not referring to those bifocal things which ride above my nose.   :)     &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I can see clearly now, the rain is gone..."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-7147019338373506615?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/7147019338373506615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=7147019338373506615' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7147019338373506615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7147019338373506615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2008/03/new-pair-of-glasses.html' title='A new pair of glasses...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1127893158144373039</id><published>2008-03-13T15:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T15:15:35.365-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today presented itself with cloudy weather, a 30% chance of rain and isolated thunderstorms. Yours truly deemed that good enough to take the walk and seek out cheap movies for a marathon! Oh yeah! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Arrived at Half-Price Books and yours truly did acquire the following used movies, all on VHS for ungodly cheap prices:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;1. Chinatown(with Jack Nicholson) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;2 to 5. All Brian De Palma movies(oh yeah!): Mission Impossible, The Untouchables, Snake Eyes and Carlitos Way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;6. The Shawshank Redemption&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;7. Waterworld&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Yours truly has seen all of these before but most have not been seen in ages so it will be fun. Not bad for twenty bucks, eh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;And the Dominos pizza has just arrived so I must be off! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Oh and yours truly did make it home dry. Skies looks somewhat threatening so it became a fast walk! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1127893158144373039?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1127893158144373039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1127893158144373039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1127893158144373039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1127893158144373039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2008/03/movie-time.html' title='Movie Time!'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-9033040472345375508</id><published>2008-03-12T02:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T02:23:08.914-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trust...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The past few days this has been on my mind...TRUST...without it what do we really have?  What are we left with once trust has been destroyed?   If a person has been dishonest about something(which they consider a small thing) it raises a question...what else have they been dishonest about?   Other "small things", big things, medium things?   Who knows?   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Just because one forgives another does not mean that trust is regained.   They do not go hand in hand...forgiveness and trust.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Truly, without trust we have nothing...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-9033040472345375508?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/9033040472345375508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=9033040472345375508' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/9033040472345375508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/9033040472345375508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2008/03/trust.html' title='Trust...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5763594780135141035</id><published>2008-03-08T15:39:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T16:03:30.835-06:00</updated><title type='text'>These old legs...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;...are tired! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today I did something I enjoy doing when I can and that is taking a nice walk out in the sun. The sun was out and was stunning. :) It was accompanied by a cool breeze which actually felt cold once one was out of the sunlight. That occurred only when I arrived at the shopping center however. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Spent a long time inside Half Price Bookstores looking at books and movies(mostly movies). Lately they seem to never have the movie(s) I am looking for. But today I did see some cheap &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;VHS's&lt;/span&gt; on sale at $1.00 each. Yep. One cannot beat that now can one? So yours truly indulged himself and got two powerful movies, both of which he has seen but both of which he would love to see again. "Dead Poets Society" with Robin Williams and "A Few Good Men" with Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson. Great stuff! Cannot wait to do the respective viewings! Oh, and I had a 10% coupon so actually I paid $.90 each! Frugal eh? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The post movie acquisition time was spent outside a Starbucks Coffee drinking a Starbucks coffee under the stunning sun which as has already been stated was accompanied by a cool breeze. It was almost like being in LA. Truly beautiful weather here today. I sat there at that table drinking that Starbucks coffee as the sun worked its ways on me. The serotonin levels smiled back at the sun. :) And the cool breeze gently brushing past the skin was like icing on a cake. Yummy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So now these old legs ache a bit as I drink the cold remnant of that wonderful Starbucks coffee. Maybe laundry will be postponed a bit...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5763594780135141035?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5763594780135141035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5763594780135141035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5763594780135141035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5763594780135141035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2008/03/these-old-legs.html' title='These old legs...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5529492034264728391</id><published>2008-02-22T00:38:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T00:56:17.606-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello again...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's time again to write.   It's been a long time to be sure.   Why the dry spell?   Cause I had a dry spell.   Personally  I have been drying up  since November but I recently dried up altogether.   Since I last blogged here I have blogged elsewhere a few times.   But I like this place better in terms of user friendliness.  So here I go again.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Historically  whenever I do things which are not good for me I do them too much and/or too long.   Long ago I should have stopped my involvement in something that has been a roller coaster ride, to say the least.   I am at fault for not getting off long ago.   I stayed on the ride until I got sick from nausea due to the low turns it took.    The ride became disgusting.   I  became disgusting.   I did not respect boundaries which is something I normally do.   I allowed myself to be strung along for a ride which was doomed to crash eventually.   I knew this since November.   Yet  I rode. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;However time brings clarity.   Time shows each of our true colors.   Good and bad.   It all comes out eventually.    I am not very proud of my behavior the past few months.   But they say everything happens for a reason.    And a very recent "everything" will make it easier to not get back on the ride.     I may be tired of the roller coaster but beyond all of that it now disgusts me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5529492034264728391?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5529492034264728391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5529492034264728391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5529492034264728391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5529492034264728391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2008/02/hello-again.html' title='Hello again...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-4099783901725627164</id><published>2008-01-08T03:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T03:54:24.704-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes no matter how much I want to write I cannot.  Sometimes no matter how much I want to speak I cannot.   Sometimes all that is expressed is silence.   I think sometimes that is ok. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-4099783901725627164?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4099783901725627164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=4099783901725627164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4099783901725627164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4099783901725627164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2008/01/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1005852440752945622</id><published>2008-01-01T18:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T18:53:43.208-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Day resolutions or a start...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This year I made 3 New Years resolutions. Then I have added a 4th that was on last years list of resolutions and also which a friend so pointedly pointed out the other day. That one being list making. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;List making is a great idea. It provides structure in an otherwise chaotic world. I need some structure in my somewhat otherwise chaotic world. So today I made that first list. Would it be cheating if I started out by listing my other 3 New Years Resolutions? Hey ya got to start somewhere.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So number one on the list was to DO SOMETHING NICE TO SOMEONE EVERY DAY. A good thing since I can be the ever reclusive asshole. I thought of my old neighbor friend Mary today whose dog was put to rest some time back(I really need to learn how to link to my own past blogs...help! ). Anyway with the ulterior motive of fulfilling resolution #1, I climbed Marys stairs to wish her a happy new year. No answer. OK, try again later.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On to #2(EACH DAY I WILL CLEAN AND/OR ORGANIZE MY APARTMENT) This is highly important and I think will go a long way towards making me feel better in general. This bachelor historically does not give a shit how messy his apartment is and only cleans when he has to and usually not even then. So today the kitchen counter tops witnessed a scrubbing. As did the stove and refrigerator. Even the microwave smiles now. But the night is young. Heck I may get down on hands and knees and scrub the kitchen floor next. What a fucking miracle that would be! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;#3 has to do with WRITING EVERYDAY. I have a dream to write. And I have a home course on Copy writing which has received procrastination treatment in a not so good way. Today wanting to do that #3 on my highly uncoveted New Years resolutions list, I opened up the course and began again where I last left off. Feels good. Yeahhhh. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;At this point I will pat myself on the back for doing today what I should already have been doing. I will even pat myself on the back for that &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2 loads of laundry done which were not on any list, just sprawled out on the floor. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maybe there is hope for this ole dog. Some new tricks perhaps?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Ohhhhh, before I blog off, I must tell you that before I made it back to Mary's to wish her a smiling Happy New Year, she knocked on my door and beat me to the punch. I did express extra wishes her way and smiled widely but....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;...still, I feel the need to do something else. Maybe call all three kids tonight. They don't expect it on New Years Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1005852440752945622?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1005852440752945622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1005852440752945622' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1005852440752945622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1005852440752945622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-years-day-resolutions-or-start.html' title='New Years Day resolutions or a start...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-7528135563247420684</id><published>2007-12-28T02:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T02:57:28.810-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Eve, the best holiday...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Unless I am extremely exhausted or have been awake virtually all night then I cannot sleep as a of late.    Once again I find myself getting out of bed after a period of mind racing thoughts has sped me out of bed.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The one thought among many that got me out of bed this time was that I was going to be alone on New Years Eve.   I fucking hate that.    Last year I avoided it by being with my parents on my Dad's 80th birthday.   His birthday is New Years Eve.    Historically New Years Eve has been my favorite  holiday due to the inherent attribute it instills on me to reflect and think back.   To reflect and think forward.  I get off on crap like that.   I like it.  I love it.   That's why I hate New Years Eve now.     Of all the holidays it is the worst to be alone on.   In my book anyway.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That scene in "When  Harry Met Sally" when they are together on New Years Eve.   I love it.   That is beyond wonderful.   Everyone should experience that wonderfulness on New Years Eve. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fucking holiday.   I'll be glad when it passes. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-7528135563247420684?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/7528135563247420684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=7528135563247420684' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7528135563247420684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7528135563247420684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/new-years-eve-best-holiday.html' title='New Years Eve, the best holiday...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5151491140034544472</id><published>2007-12-24T01:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T02:01:04.086-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The pain of heartache...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Almost Christmas.  Almost the end of the year.   Almost.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New beginnings.   New beginnings are needed.   I need new beginnings. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Looking back the year brought great joy into my life personally.   It also brought great pain.   But that is life is it not?    Life presents itself to us with good. It presents us with bad.   Without both, without conflicts, without challenges how could we ever grow?    How could we ever survive?   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some think it is the good times that make us closer to another.   To an extent I believe that to be partially true.   But I  believe it is the difficult times that are weathered together that make  us truly closer.   No doubt about it.  That is where real growth comes from.   Why?   Cause conflicts cannot be avoided, not over an extended period of time anyway.  Something magical happens when serious conflicts are worked through,  talked about.   Closeness.  Closer.   A deeper bond. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If it was easy everyone would do it.   Everyone would make it.  Not many relationships seem to make it anymore.  It must not be easy. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5151491140034544472?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5151491140034544472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5151491140034544472' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5151491140034544472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5151491140034544472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/pain-of-heartache.html' title='The pain of heartache...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-7465061787914404573</id><published>2007-12-19T04:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T14:18:59.729-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What can I say now?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What can I say? What can I possibly say when all has been said and done? When all has been said and done, there is really nothing new under the sun. Everything comes in cycles they say. But I am tired of the current cycle. Maybe I need a complete overhaul of me or something. I don't know. But I do think I am fucked up. Yeah, I am. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Tonight has not been a good night. And I hate this time of year. It just adds to shit. It started off being bad when I got home and came online. Fucking online. I should stay off sometimes. Then I decided to cool off and go to a chatroom. Saw a friend I had not seen in ages(OK months). That was cool. But...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;...then all hell broke loose. That was not so cool. Hell never is. The hell was a collaboration. I am responsible for part of it but certainly not all of it. No way Jose. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Sometimes I almost feel like Roger Waters of Pink Floyd when I am blogging. All he did most of his years with Pink Floyd was whine and complain and write dark negative stuff. Boy I wish I could write like he did though. Anyway I feel like I come here and complain a lot. Well I do. Yep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Maybe next year will be a better year. It will not be the year I had pictured in my mind and heart not too long ago but perhaps it will somehow be a better year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Somehow...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-7465061787914404573?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/7465061787914404573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=7465061787914404573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7465061787914404573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7465061787914404573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/what-can-i-say-now.html' title='What can I say now?'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-3642547692374449434</id><published>2007-12-14T18:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T19:09:00.746-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I taught my grandchild a new word tonight...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes I did. But before I reveal the all important word that my beautiful granddaughter learned tonight from her beautiful grandfather(hey, I am beautiful too aren't I? Yes! LOL!) I will say it was wonderful to have my daughter call impromptu to go eat. Even though I had just eaten eight oatmeal raisin cookies and two burritos off we went. Wonderful.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In March my daughters daughter will be two. She is picking up words left and right. I thought it only fitting that she pick up that all important word that she will use all the days of her life. Yes. So I ordered some and then told her what it was. She said the word immediately very articulately and my daughter confirmed that this was the first time she had ever said the word. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What was the word? What was  the all important word?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coffee.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Too bad it wasn't instant...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-3642547692374449434?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3642547692374449434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=3642547692374449434' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3642547692374449434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3642547692374449434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-taught-my-grandchild-new-word-tonight.html' title='I taught my grandchild a new word tonight...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-6107957379581004695</id><published>2007-12-13T03:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T03:44:05.680-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kid Nation...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you see it? Kid Nation. A TV show which ended tonight with a rather touching finale. For those who are clueless on what I am talking about, it is a reality show in which 40 kids from ages 8 to 15 came together without adult supervision to run their own town over a 40 day period. Tonight it ended. A few left the show and went home but most endured it for the duration.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;What became shockingly apparent as I watched each episode was how extremely intelligent and articulate each child was who appeared in this unique reality show. Obviously it was a requirement to be on it. Some of those kids really blew me away just listening to them. More than a few talked as an adult would. Their brilliance translated well into helping make touch decisions which had to be made on the show from time to time. The kids ran everything so...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;From time to time however we were reminded we were dealing with children as the emotions would come to the forefront as conflicts of all sorts were encountered. I will not go into any of that but it was a nice reality check to see these kids act as kids from time to time and actually lose it(emotionally) as kids do occasionally. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;What the kids achieved on the show was amazing and I am surprised how well it was pulled off(assuming the editing depicted a somewhat accurate account of what actually transpired...lol). I enjoyed it far more than I thought I would at the outset. It still holds true that we can learn so much from kids. We just have to observe. We just have to listen to them. Children have great imaginations which have not yet been lost to the act of growing up(many lose it unless they enter an artistic career or have artistic hobbys). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Kid Nation...this was one of the most interesting reality shows to come down the pike. I wonder if they will try it again? It won't be a unique idea anymore if there is a second season with new players . But it would be interesting I think. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-6107957379581004695?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6107957379581004695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=6107957379581004695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6107957379581004695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6107957379581004695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/kid-nation.html' title='Kid Nation...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5109244654856995383</id><published>2007-12-11T05:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T05:56:41.016-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Heard a song yesterday...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Big Girls Don't Cry" by Fergie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What about boys?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5109244654856995383?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5109244654856995383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5109244654856995383' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5109244654856995383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5109244654856995383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/heard-song-yesterday.html' title='Heard a song yesterday...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1299340874601259724</id><published>2007-12-09T23:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T23:36:21.742-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing what is found...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish things were different.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes I  wish I was younger, born in a different time.   Sometimes I wish I had not become older, somewhat cynical and set in my ways.   I wish I could change certain things.   But I am a realist.  I may be a dreamer but I am also a realist.   But maybe I am too much a realist.  I don't know.   I don't know anything anymore.   I am lost.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish things were different.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That which makes us whole, that which fills us up, that which makes us complete, that which comes  along only rarely in life, that mutual thing that I believe very few ever experience on a truly deep level, that thing that requires the occasional compromise and requires the ever listening ear, all of that and more...It is beautiful, absolutely beautiful.  Others may not be able to see it.  Others may not understand it.  Others may see it as foolishness.  But I tell you it is a beautiful and precious thing.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I tell you the loss of that is the most painful thing in the world. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1299340874601259724?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1299340874601259724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1299340874601259724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1299340874601259724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1299340874601259724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/losing-what-is-found.html' title='Losing what is found...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5767973973976226234</id><published>2007-12-09T12:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T13:00:00.288-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Some boring rambling...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Got a couple of hot pockets warming in the microwave and a little time before work so thought I would blog.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yesterday sucked.   That's all I will say about the sucking.    Movie wise I only watched two, Twister and The Perfect Storm.   Twister is an old tape recorded off HBO my ex loaned me(the tape looks to be a zillion years old) which kept jumping and was hard to watch and listen to.  Took all day to watch it.  Good movie, good effects but it does not effect me like the first zillion times I saw it with the kids while still married to my ex. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Perfect Storm.   I love this movie.  I am not sure why.  Everyone knows what will happen.  It is quite the predictable movie.  Maybe it is the drive of the characters in it , their determination, the relationships between the fishermen, the intensity of the storm and their relationship to it.   Maybe it is all of that.   I dunno.  I liked it again.   Can't wait to watch all the extras.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That was all I got watched yesterday, movie wise.  48 Hours Mystery was on TV and was OK but predictable.   Nice to have the other movies in the can waiting to be watched.   And tonight we have The Amazing Race!  Joy!  LOL!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The hot  pockets are good.   The coffee is good.  The sky is cloudy, not looking so good.    In fact just looked out the window and the wind has picked up and blowing dead leaves around.  That means rain soon.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is already raining within me.   Bring on the New Year.  Bring on another time far and away from the present...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5767973973976226234?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5767973973976226234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5767973973976226234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5767973973976226234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5767973973976226234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/some-boring-rambling.html' title='Some boring rambling...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-391175924435789432</id><published>2007-12-09T03:30:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T03:30:56.607-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It hurts...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;...like hell&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-391175924435789432?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/391175924435789432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=391175924435789432' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/391175924435789432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/391175924435789432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/it-hurts.html' title='It hurts...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-9030349901745573580</id><published>2007-12-08T11:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T12:23:37.427-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie time...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whether it be here or the occasional MySpace blogging recently it seems I keep second guessing myself. Most of what I have written as of late remains unpublished. Most will remain that way and some is going to delete land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I thought I would try to write something and actually publish it. But what? I am tired of writing poems only to not publish them. I am tired of writing prose only to not publish it. Last night in the middle of the night I did publish something here. I immediately sent it back to draftland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My walls are up. Maybe that is a good thing. I hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think I will talk about the morning so far. Did the walk thing up to Walmart this morning. Along the way I witnessed two buzzards eating rotting carcasses. Walked right by the scavengers. Nasty. Stunk. Then I walked right by an automobile accident accompanied by many wreckers and an ambulance. Someone was in deep trouble. The thought occurred to me that I had not been in a wreck nor was I being eaten by vultures. My life is not so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For escapism purposes I bought 4 movies today. Actually make that 5 since one is a double feature. Check out what I got!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movie #1: Reservoir Dogs. This is a movie which has evaded me for many years. I first became aware of it back in 1998. A friend at work said it was a must see. It was always flipping checked out at the video store or when I would see it in stock, I would rent something else instead that I was dieing to see more. Go figure. A number of times I could have purchased it but I was not willing to pay $20.00 for a movie I have not seen. I got it today for $5.00. Looking forward to it. Stay tuned for a review.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movie #2 and #3 The Perfect Storm/Three Kings. Ahhhh, George Clooney. The Perfect Storm I have rented twice. Loved it. Have been wanting to see it again and got one with all the extras and an extra movie too, Three Kings. This one I have not heard of but looks interesting. Stay tuned for a review.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movie #4 Blazing Saddles. Yep. For $5.00 I got the 30th anniversary deluxe edition with all the many extras. I have seen this of course. One of the funniest movies of all time in my opinion. I cannot wait to see it again! I talked to someone today who lives in a bubble. They had never heard of the movie! LMAO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movie#5 The Doors. 2 DVD special edition again for $5.00. I love Walmart. I love the flippin Doors. I love Meg Ryan(well I use to anyway, sort of still do, I guess). Have seen this but only once. The Doors music AND this movie can be depressing so I will have to watch it at the right time. I do recall that Meg bears her boobies in it so that is something to look forward to. Yes, I am an animal. I admit it. I never claimed to be a saint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is it for the day so far. Been to MySpace too. Oh and I have been to McDonald's at Walmart. Got the double cheeseburger and a large Diet Coke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God for movies. Maybe before I start on the others I will watch Twister. It has been sitting out waiting to be watched again. Yeah, Twister.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-9030349901745573580?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/9030349901745573580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=9030349901745573580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/9030349901745573580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/9030349901745573580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/whether-it-be-here-or-occasional.html' title='Movie time...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-7430954316254662362</id><published>2007-12-03T01:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T02:22:39.867-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A starburst of clouds...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Brilliant starburst pluming overhead, expands tomorrow's cloud&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Reds, blacks radiating beyond vision, left a remnant of dull gray&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Beautiful echo, bouncing heart's tale, soft whispers, not too loud&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Touching each soul's core, revealing a mystery without delay&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-7430954316254662362?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/7430954316254662362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=7430954316254662362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7430954316254662362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7430954316254662362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/starburst-of-clouds.html' title='A starburst of clouds...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-2723661784023419153</id><published>2007-12-01T17:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T17:32:27.951-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A year it has been...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Back around the 1998 to 1999 period I was a three pack a day smoker.  That became a pack to a pack and a half when I stopped smoking inside.   Many many times I have quit.   I have used the patch three times, the nicotine gum once(what a joke that is) and cold turkey countless times.   The longest periods of time I have stayed smoke free have ALWAYS been when I quit cold turkey.   The problem with the patch folks is they do not supply a "psychological patch" and cigarette addiction is far more than a mere physical addiction.  Yep.   Hello. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Having picked it up as a habit in 1993 it has been hell trying to quit every since.   The past couple of years when I would smoke that first one in the morning accompanied by that first cup of coffee,  I would almost invariably become depressed.    I am not sure if it was a chemical change in the brain causing this or my subconscious mind screaming out for me to quit.   Either way smoking became something I did only to feed the ongoing addiction and try somewhat to relax.   I hated it.   Most of the time I did not actually enjoy it anymore.   And I was not REALLY relaxed as a smoker.   Uptight city in fact. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;The  physical pain of quiting does not last.   The psychological aspect is another matter altogether.     It scares me when people go back after long periods of time off of it, even years and years of not smoking.   But that is their life and not mine.  The longest I have ever stayed smoke free is around 18 months.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;TODAY I have been quit for one year!    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;It was a year wrought with many many times of wanting to smoke.  But it all comes down to choices and awareness of consequences.     I feel grateful to have made it this long.   I feel happy to be smoke free.    All the years I have not had a drink yet I was still hiding behind a cigarette.  Well,  I am tired of hiding.  I am tired of running.   No more.   Everything needs to be real and remain real.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Something tells me this coming year will be the greatest of my life.   Something tells me.  And that feels very real.  And real is wonderful.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;I feel alive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-2723661784023419153?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2723661784023419153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=2723661784023419153' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2723661784023419153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2723661784023419153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/year-it-has-been.html' title='A year it has been...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-6253629648451141765</id><published>2007-11-30T20:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T21:00:46.929-06:00</updated><title type='text'>An uncommon relaxation...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is rare, I think, when we come across someone who we can totally relax with.   I don't mean somewhat relax or sorta relax but TOTALLY relax.   Someone we can be ourselves with.   Someone we feel naturally connected with born of a mutual chemistry that is uncannily uncommon.   Is it not a rare experience?   Or is it just me?   Whatever the case may be, for me when that sort of connection occurs with another, it is truly beyond wonderful.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To experience that IS the most wonderful thing in the world.   It is like finding a hidden trove of unlimited treasure.  The treasures beauty is not something to be taken lightly or for granted.   It is something to be cherished.   It is something to be loved.  It is the seed of love. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-6253629648451141765?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6253629648451141765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=6253629648451141765' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6253629648451141765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6253629648451141765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/uncommon-relaxation.html' title='An uncommon relaxation...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-9197190984229508490</id><published>2007-11-30T04:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T04:32:56.027-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Awake...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the very threshold of remembering a dream from which I just now awoke.   I  cannot remember any specifics other than the good feeling the dream provided and why.   I awoke to have it dissipate before me into a bad feeling.   Not sure why&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-9197190984229508490?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/9197190984229508490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=9197190984229508490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/9197190984229508490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/9197190984229508490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/awake.html' title='Awake...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5638318842637056446</id><published>2007-11-30T02:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T03:05:12.892-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not a poem...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Guess what?  What they said as this they read?  LOL.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am not going to write  a poem.   For the time being I am poemed out.  Therefore to prose it goes.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There is so much floating around inside my head these days.  So many thoughts , so many feelings.    It is difficult to get a handle on it sometimes.   With this saturation of  feelings and thoughts it can be difficult to have clarity at times.    And clarity is much needed right now.  Much needed. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The next couple of days I have off work.  Going to try and relax.  Go for some walks, weather permitting.   Clear my mind hopefully.    Right now it is 3am and things are too fuzzy for me to write anymore.   I don't even really know where I want to go with writing at this moment.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tomorrow is a new day.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A new beginning perhaps. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5638318842637056446?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5638318842637056446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5638318842637056446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5638318842637056446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5638318842637056446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/not-poem.html' title='Not a poem...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-963654869429381197</id><published>2007-11-28T00:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T01:56:56.256-06:00</updated><title type='text'>For all of it...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For that moment that has brought us together&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;For those moments we've embraced one another&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;For those moments we given a rose to each other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;I am glad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Of the times we found, with us, naturally relaxed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Of those times surmounting us, painfully grasped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Of the timeless roses reminding,  incredibly lasted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;I am joyful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;In an instance wrought with the wonder of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Or an instance with a  cry,  not known what to do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Or an instance rose a loving sigh,  a laughing spew &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;I am happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Because it is all with you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-963654869429381197?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/963654869429381197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=963654869429381197' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/963654869429381197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/963654869429381197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/for-all-of-it.html' title='For all of it...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-3833293899849289104</id><published>2007-11-27T00:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T00:31:04.830-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The flower of love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The rose eternally lives to  be that flower of love &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Forever a flower which reflects its beauty above&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In rising above its thorns, in rising beyond the cold&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In weakness is made strong, its story forever told  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-3833293899849289104?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3833293899849289104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=3833293899849289104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3833293899849289104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3833293899849289104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/flower-of-love.html' title='The flower of love'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-7583381641121911459</id><published>2007-11-26T01:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T02:09:44.677-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Memory of a rose</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The memory of the rose is forever etched within me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Its beauty will remain there after time provides a scar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Its unity unsurpassed except by the cold of winter&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Which has wilted its fading reds before our eyes  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-7583381641121911459?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/7583381641121911459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=7583381641121911459' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7583381641121911459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7583381641121911459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/memory-of-rose.html' title='Memory of a rose'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-6372495960246070998</id><published>2007-11-24T21:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T21:30:51.665-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;At this moment I am very sad.  Grieving seems to consist of both anger and sadness and often vacillates between the two.    I don't know what to write.   I have written a poem which remains in draft since yesterday.  It will probably stay there.   Just now I started a new one and stopped.   Every poetic thought I have at the moment cannot get past the rose. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The rose. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There are really no words to capture how I feel right now.    And I don't want to feel this way.    By my writing here I am not seeking any sympathy or comments.  Please don't.  Frankly I am writing here to try and get something out.  But I can't get it out.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The rose. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-6372495960246070998?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6372495960246070998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=6372495960246070998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6372495960246070998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6372495960246070998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-cant.html' title='I can&apos;t...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-3400913777318098752</id><published>2007-11-23T23:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T23:47:34.988-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope is lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It would be nice to write a happy blog for a change but there is nothing to write about.   I feel exhausted, emotionally spent yet sad, angry, despondent, lonely, broken hearted.   I could go on and on with other nifty descriptive terms.   I hesitated coming here tonight because I don't want to blog of recent events but that is what is consuming me.   And I don't want to have a pubic pity party but that probably is what will happen.   Oh well.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just don't understand.  I don't fucking understand.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everything after the above was backspaced out.  Fuck that.  Not going there. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We are all alone out there folks.   Can any of us, self included of course,  really and truly compromise enough to make a relationship work anymore?  I dunno.  I think it is a rare thing.  I think we have all become a much more self centered society and as such selfishness rules individuals.  And it just does not work, relationship wise.   Include me in all of this  as I am quite self absorbed much of the time.   Of course. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will return to the life of the cynic.    Why have hope in something that just tears persons apart at the heart?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We are all fucked up.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All of us.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-3400913777318098752?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3400913777318098752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=3400913777318098752' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3400913777318098752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3400913777318098752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/hope-is-lost.html' title='Hope is lost'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-8146236746515089463</id><published>2007-11-23T14:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T14:44:33.863-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Today...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today is a friends birthday.  Today a friends step father passed away.   Today my own life is in complete disarray.    But my problems are small in comparison to the passing of a loved one.   Duh. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With all the sadness that permeates today I am glad there is one with a birthday to celebrate.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy birthday Zooty!   :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-8146236746515089463?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8146236746515089463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=8146236746515089463' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8146236746515089463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8146236746515089463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/today.html' title='Today...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-4231595123831626601</id><published>2007-11-21T17:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T17:42:46.399-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A rose...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grasping by hand that rose of beauty which we are&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Its delicate colors warm us with each fragile touch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Avoiding prickly thorns, else we bleed, render a scar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gaze at petals of radiant clarity,  fingers wrap in such&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Its fragrance fills us when darkness hides color afar  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carefully held onto, a  loving memory beyond much&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-4231595123831626601?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4231595123831626601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=4231595123831626601' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4231595123831626601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4231595123831626601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/rose.html' title='A rose...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-8710054727254895318</id><published>2007-11-17T18:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T19:18:57.083-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The PC is currently operating at what appears to be a somewhat normal level so taking this opportunity to blog.  Today my PC has been difficult again.  Time will tell what happens with it.   I just know it does not like me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So today I had decided to call each of my children and my parents.  I had also intended to attend a 12 step meeting(am thinking weekly would be a cool thing) which I did do last weekend for the first time in ages.   The weather did not permit the latter.   But I did call each child and my parents.    Made contact so far with 2 out of 4.     &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My youngest son is 12 and of course his interests and friends are changing.   He has not returned the call I made to his cellphone.   Nor did he return the last call made last weekend.  That hurts.   The oldest son(20)  called back tonight.   He was cleaning up the house before his girlfriend comes over.   Was good to talk and laugh with him a few.  We like to recite lines from the movie "Full Metal Jacket".  We did.  I miss him terribly.  I miss both my sons terribly.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My daughter was the only one to answer the first time.   She was feeding my granddaughter or trying to.  Sounded like  a struggle was occurring.   Interspersed with the sounds of young words emanating from this young one was the sound of rebellious terrible twoish sounding noises.  She is not two yet.   Some things start early.   My daughter said sometimes parenting sucks.   I laughed.     On a different note she told me she was going with her boyfriend to Jamaica for Thanksgiving for a week.  Wow.   Be good for her to get away. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It has a long long time since I have called my parents.  I will not disclose how long.   Rather embarrassing.   But I called. They did not answer.   Called tonight at 6:30 and quite often they eat out on Saturday evenings.   I forgot about that.   I hope to talk to them before the  night is over.   I don't hear from my children often and it hurts.  Yet I don't call my parents very often. Hmmm.  How can I be upset about my children not calling me when I don't call my parents.    Hell,  maybe they learned that from me...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-8710054727254895318?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8710054727254895318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=8710054727254895318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8710054727254895318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8710054727254895318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/family.html' title='Family'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-822051703291250808</id><published>2007-11-16T18:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T18:45:30.410-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My PC</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's Friday, the end of the week.  The end of a week.  Yep.   What a week.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Anyway, today my PC has been flipping out.  Yes it has.  It has a tendency to do that sometimes but today it was majorly flipping out.   I was afraid perhaps it had overdosed on me or something.  It turned out to be or something.  Or several somethings.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So here is what happened.  This afternoon I thought to myself, "self, this would be a good time to update virus protection and do the full PC tune up".   So I did the tune up first.  The usual register errors were there and the usual allocation errors.   Got it all fixed.  Then did the virus protection update.   Then began an afternoon in Hades.   Some would call it Hell.   I was in the other room and happened to notice my computer screen had that evil blue error message which never tells you shitola.   You know the one:  Fatal error message from blah blah blah , hit enter or control/alt/del to restart your PC.   They might as well say Fatal error message, you are fucked. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So I did about 7 million reboots because anything I tried to do crashed.  Any software I pulled up crashed and crashed the PC as well at the same time.  Nice.  Just fucking nice.  I was a happy camper.   Tried to run the test for window errors, crash.   Virus scan, crash.  Tune up for more efficient running, crash.   Browser boot, crash.  Any software boot, crash. Look at the fucking PC, crash.   Hmmmm.   It occurred to me I had not done a defrag in a while.   Problem was the software I use to defrag with was guess what?   Crashing.   You guessed it.  I could use the old archaic defrag that is built into windows but it is much slower and I figured the chances were that it too would crash.  Everything was fucking crashing.    &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So I rebooted for the 7 million and oneth time.   I stood there thinking what to do.    I decided to try the windows error software one last time and then I would give up for a while if it crashed again.   Somehow it went the distance and did not crash!    There was an odd error I have never seen before.  It said the error could cause applications to not run properly or fail. Imagine that. Corrected it.  Ran some other stuff and got more errors corrected.  Then I defragged.   I was at a 98% level before defragging.  Not good. Not cool.   Got that done.   Have not crashed since.   Knock on wood. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This old PC continues to run.   There may come a time when it stops.   It seems to somehow fix itself.   Maybe it is actually alive and just likes to tease and irritate me.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-822051703291250808?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/822051703291250808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=822051703291250808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/822051703291250808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/822051703291250808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-pc.html' title='My PC'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-4554675295997982545</id><published>2007-11-16T13:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T14:24:10.199-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And now we pause for an announcement...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When I began this blog last July(4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; I think) the purpose of it was to get myself to writing again. Write something, write anything. Within the context of a blog I saw it as more or less a diary of sorts in which I could express my thoughts and feelings, hopefully on a daily basis. Perhaps write the occasional poem. Writing poetry is where I really get off. It may not always come together as I want it to but occasionally it really floats my boat. Anyway since this is my blog I have done with it as I see fit including writing about a personal relationship from time to time. I am not sure airing certain things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;publically&lt;/span&gt; is a good thing  or not.  Perhaps it is unwise to blog about something so personal as I have the past week or so here. So for now I will refrain and write more generally or more cryptically. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So if something seems like it has gone missing that is because it has. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-4554675295997982545?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4554675295997982545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=4554675295997982545' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4554675295997982545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4554675295997982545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-now-we-pause-for-announcement.html' title='And now we pause for an announcement...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-445676620393443455</id><published>2007-11-14T00:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T01:26:55.195-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost and Found</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Edging away from the shore the murky waters reveal depths unknown&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Memories of comforting warm sand under foot fade into cold storage&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uncharted passage where mappers of futile endeavor frequently inquire&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lost is a treasure for all who hold secure that which surpasses knowledge&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Discounts for sale, found at your local shoreline mall where mud is plenty&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Floating away towards friendlier waters where clarity is freely found &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-445676620393443455?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/445676620393443455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=445676620393443455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/445676620393443455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/445676620393443455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/lost-and-found.html' title='Lost and Found'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-6176408887760820059</id><published>2007-11-10T18:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T18:25:41.491-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Aftermath</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There are no proper words in this aftermaths eve&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There is only a sadness which penetrates my soul&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Acute regret of hurting you who makes me feel whole&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-6176408887760820059?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6176408887760820059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=6176408887760820059' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6176408887760820059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6176408887760820059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/aftermath.html' title='Aftermath'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-2579674076661299477</id><published>2007-11-09T23:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T00:15:29.312-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A return to recovery after many years away...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Perhaps the only way I will sleep tonight is if I write some.   So much is on my mind and yet so much I really don't feel I can write here.   A while ago I was almost asleep.  On the very threshold of it when my overactive mind woke up fully.   So here I am.   Ugggg.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did something earlier tonight I had not done in at least three years.   Went to a 12 step recovery meeting!  Yes!  It was great to go for the somewhat long walk it takes to get there.  And once I got there it was great to be there.   The old timers I knew from the past, some of them were oddly distant however.   Oh well.  It was still great seeing some old faces and lots of new ones.   Contributed several words to a difficult crossword puzzle that was being played at a table prior to meetings start.   That was fun.    &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The meeting was filled with smoke.    Yep.    Did not care for that but I was not tempted to smoke.   Be a year smoke free December 1.   No can do on going back now.   So I sat there and listened attentively in the smoke filled room.   I thought to myself something I have heard in a Nicotine Anonymous meeting said by someone rather smugly one time.   They  said if you are still smoking than you really have not recovered to the extent possible regardless of what other addictions have been put down.  Hmmmm.   Interesting.   I find myself tending to agree.  Easy to become self righteous against smokers so I must be careful here.   But it is a crutch.   It is an addiction.  It certainly is a path of running.   Running from tension just to name just one aspect of it. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I want to go back.   Recovery is a good thing.  The principles are a good means by which to live ones life.   However the smoke filled room which I exited with burning eyes after 40 minutes is an obstacle.    Next time I will sit further away from the tables, perhaps near a corner.   Maybe tomorrow in fact.     :) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Apparently the smoke filled room gave me a headache.   I cannot rid it either.    Took something but to no avail.   I thought I would write of other preoccupations in the here and now but upon second thought, no I won't.   Not here and now.   Nada.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-2579674076661299477?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2579674076661299477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=2579674076661299477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2579674076661299477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2579674076661299477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/return-to-recovery-after-many-years.html' title='A return to recovery after many years away...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-4070440324531191615</id><published>2007-11-09T14:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T14:58:47.969-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And now for an announcement from me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Currently I don't know what to write about when it comes to standard blogging per se.  I don't.   A lot has been on my mind and I don't care really to write directly about it.   So I will either continue in poem for the time being or not write. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Something however quite newsworthy and blogworthy and of a monumental nature is the announcement that I have now won my third Literati game from the Lioness!  Ah, yes there must be a God! ...lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-4070440324531191615?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4070440324531191615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=4070440324531191615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4070440324531191615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4070440324531191615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-now-for-announcement-from-me.html' title='And now for an announcement from me...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-8145375509259901762</id><published>2007-11-09T10:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T11:45:27.148-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When the winter came,  the uninhabited found habitation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Looking into a mirror his reflected scowl aged him&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A prior fall gave fertile grounds absorbed precipitation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gazing into a stream his wavering smile grew dim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When the hail pelleted,  the injured sought protection&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Seeing in a vision clearly a dream colored darkly&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The prior fallout's remnant left little hope of resuscitation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yet viewing them revealed a beauty to put it starkly&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-8145375509259901762?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8145375509259901762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=8145375509259901762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8145375509259901762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8145375509259901762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/hope.html' title='Hope'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-3955474945905914354</id><published>2007-11-08T13:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T14:09:05.608-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In the age of melancholy where is the figure of speech?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Without a metaphor will dilemma find expression?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In this moment of transfixing where should one gaze?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Without a compass which road hides beyond the fork?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Into the realm of solid spectrum where reds become blue&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Without a doubt a tragic tale, perhaps one filling a gap.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-3955474945905914354?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3955474945905914354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=3955474945905914354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3955474945905914354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3955474945905914354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/questions.html' title='Questions...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-330949127166341379</id><published>2007-11-06T07:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T07:32:24.401-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing New Under The Sun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It has clouded over this morose morning&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All the colors have turned an ashen gray&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Its a new day but feels like an old one&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Afterall what's new under the sun?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-330949127166341379?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/330949127166341379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=330949127166341379' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/330949127166341379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/330949127166341379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/nothing-new-under-sun.html' title='Nothing New Under The Sun'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5738326609258328325</id><published>2007-11-05T02:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T03:26:10.850-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Torrentially Speaking</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;See the torrential downpour upon mountainous excursions&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;See the rocky areas made wet by cloudy buildup expulsions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;See the bright day made gray from deviations of precedence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;See the wondrous time take pause before a hazy preference&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Feel intense saturation permeating throughout the stoic zone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Feel discomfort cast by streams of an unlimited rising moan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Feel released when the pen decorates paper with its airy ink&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Feel peace in knowing the papers capture rendered it unique    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5738326609258328325?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5738326609258328325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5738326609258328325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5738326609258328325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5738326609258328325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/torrentially-speaking.html' title='Torrentially Speaking'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5559412608545512478</id><published>2007-11-03T19:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-03T20:56:58.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Their year</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The time was a year ago when they first began&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That first night being spent together on the phone&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ending in a shower of static arousing the unseen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Naturally together they meshed immeasurably&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Untimely conflicts saw them clash periodically&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ending in a wash of ugly reverb dousing their fire&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yet time bore them out, each time to begin again&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Learning more, sharing more, drawn yet closer still&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Unending in streams of a current,  housing each echo  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Those moments gone past now partial to them alone&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Together their presence a candle remains bright&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Unending in floods that feels each finding the other           &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5559412608545512478?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5559412608545512478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5559412608545512478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5559412608545512478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5559412608545512478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/their-year.html' title='Their year'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-4280566767681633298</id><published>2007-11-03T02:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-03T03:25:35.212-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A safe place</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you there?  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm here &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feel safe with you &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Lending the way to silence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All day her feeling touched me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Reaching me inside with a smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One of the nicest things ever said&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Middle of the night we aptly appear&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Awareness made calm in a still place&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Slumber may find us frolicking&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; about&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;A magical mix distilling our  safe place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Relaxing, smiling, laughing, loving&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grasping each others natural lure&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-4280566767681633298?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4280566767681633298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=4280566767681633298' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4280566767681633298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4280566767681633298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/safe-place.html' title='A safe place'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5409694237921355584</id><published>2007-11-02T16:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T17:05:31.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Literati Lioness is in danger...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes  folks.  Yours truly has  improved his skills at that wonderful word game called Literati.  He is becoming more and more a force to be reckoned with.    Tell you what...if the Lioness had not fallen asleep a time or two and my PC not frozen there would be 2 to 3 more wins added to yours truly win record.   Yep. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But not to worry.    I am a  force to be reckoned with.  I have the Literati magic now and I will begin  to win more and more frequently.  After all, two wins out a million games played is not bad, don't you think?  I like my odds now.  Two wins under my belt.  I am on my way to success against the Lioness.   The Literati gods are with me now.  I just&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;know it.  Stay tuned...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5409694237921355584?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5409694237921355584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5409694237921355584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5409694237921355584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5409694237921355584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/literati-lioness-is-in-danger.html' title='The Literati Lioness is in danger...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-3070186652695297900</id><published>2007-11-02T16:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T16:57:01.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random thoughts on writing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's rewarding to write something held or felt within one whether it be in ones normal style of the somewhat cryptic or a more direct raw style bordering on a chant or a song. Poetry comes in all styles and there are no rules. Let no one tell you otherwise. Ancient eastern poetry used repetition of a thought as opposed to sound. For example if one reads the Psalms of David in the Bible one will see much repetition of a concept.   Check it out. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Anyone can write.  Writing is nothing more than thoughts or feelings on paper.  That's it.  We do the same when we speak, it's just we use or mouths as opposed to our fingers.  Mmmmm.  LOL!      Of course some are more conversational than others and seem to be gifted at gab.  Same for writing.   Some are more expressive than others...   Irregardless it is rewarding and something I recommend highly.   A daily journal is a great starting point.   Back in 99 during my divorce it was the beginning of writing per se for me.   I may not be the best and I may break the rules but it is something I truly love to do.  So I do it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;But just as I sometimes wall up and say little or nothing at all so do I with writing sometimes.   I can become frozen in my own ways or walls.   Sometimes that is a lingering process, sometimes not.   It always feels good though when something finally comes out.   What we hold within us will always come out eventually in one form or another.   So... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-3070186652695297900?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3070186652695297900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=3070186652695297900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3070186652695297900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3070186652695297900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/11/random-thoughts-on-writing.html' title='Random thoughts on writing...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-4886651413902042851</id><published>2007-10-30T15:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T15:15:34.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's still October</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It did not rain. It remained sunny and clear and full of beautiful October blue skies. It even remained October. And I am glad it did and I am glad it is. It is still October. This moment. Sometimes we have to take the moment and seize it as they say. October is a magical month. Right now at this moment in the month of October it is magical.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-4886651413902042851?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4886651413902042851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=4886651413902042851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4886651413902042851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4886651413902042851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/its-still-october.html' title='It&apos;s still October'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-2309844631872508924</id><published>2007-10-29T14:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T15:10:31.164-05:00</updated><title type='text'>October now</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;October is almost over.   Halloween begins the holiday season, so they say.    Halloween to New Years, the holidays.  I wish I could extend October a little while longer.    I  sometimes wish I could say the things I think or feel which go unsaid.  Sometimes  I  wish I could understand better and/or be understood better.    I wish it were not beautiful blue October skies right now.    I wish it would cloud over and rain.    Might as well.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-2309844631872508924?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2309844631872508924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=2309844631872508924' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2309844631872508924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2309844631872508924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/october-now.html' title='October now'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1312199443311646198</id><published>2007-10-28T12:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T12:43:31.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Literati Lioness loses!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes, good things happen in October. As this October winds down and is almost away from us now,  yours truly has won his second game of Literati from the Literati Lioness(insert Loser here if you desire...lol).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes folks, it's true! I know some are gasping for their breaths as they read this but trust me, it is true. It was a close game throughout led mostly by yours truly until very late into the game. Then the Lioness took over the lead. But not to worry. Yours truly played out all his letters and won by two points.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Lioness weeps today, this October day. She weeps knowing she is the Literati Lioness Loser. I want nothing more than to wipe her tears. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1312199443311646198?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1312199443311646198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1312199443311646198' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1312199443311646198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1312199443311646198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/literati-lioness-loses.html' title='Literati Lioness loses!'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-3533421087443146346</id><published>2007-10-27T19:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T20:03:24.706-05:00</updated><title type='text'>October...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Every since I was in college October has been my favorite month of the year.  Many good and special things have happened in October.    I first found God in a serious way in October.   I sobered up in October.   There are special memories with my best friend in October.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; There is not an October that goes by that I don' think back to that October in college when he looked into the sky and exclaimed,  "look at the October sky"!  It was an ultra clear and exquisitely pure blue sky that only October seems to provide.    Today I walked up to the corner store and looked into the October sky.    Beautiful light blue sky overhead with a cool breeze passing through me.    Sunny yet cool.   It gets no better than this.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Came home and called my youngest son.   He answered the phone.  First time in  a while we have talked.  I miss him terribly.    He is growing up and his interests are changing including rather doing things with his friends as opposed to his Dad.   I understand but I miss him.   We talked for 23 minutes and it was good.   Normally any phone conversation between us falls far  short of that.  A nice relaxed conversation it was and I am grateful for it.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The rest of the day so far includes cleaning, working on a writing course,  surfing the net and watching TV.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; It is October now.  The most magical month of the year and it is nearly over.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But not yet.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-3533421087443146346?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3533421087443146346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=3533421087443146346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3533421087443146346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3533421087443146346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/october.html' title='October...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-7763779552243184088</id><published>2007-10-26T12:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T15:34:53.492-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Blah. That's how I feel. Detached, disconnected, disheveled.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Came here to write but if I do what will come out but blah? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well, blah that! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-7763779552243184088?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/7763779552243184088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=7763779552243184088' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7763779552243184088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7763779552243184088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/blah.html' title='Blah...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1635489380252959072</id><published>2007-10-20T02:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T03:00:11.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Well,  maybe something else to write about...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Funny.   I  already  blogged tonight and am fatigued  and was ready to sign off and out but here I am.   I feel like writing a poem or something.    Not sure what is there though...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I felt like writing a poem but was not sure what was around&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A silence penetrated me more than a bathroom fan's sound&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I felt  like playing some music but was not sure what to play&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Any selection irritated me more than a  Raps  noisy display&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The writing cut the silence, that silence which I love&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The writing cut the silence, the silence which I hate&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The music couldn't make the cut,   I only wanted silence&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The silence couldn't make the cut,   I only wanted peace&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So now I've written a poem which owns a sound in my head&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It has a place all its own and I'm rather glad I did it instead.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1635489380252959072?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1635489380252959072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1635489380252959072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1635489380252959072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1635489380252959072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/well-maybe-something-else-to-write.html' title='Well,  maybe something else to write about...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-6199043287980602065</id><published>2007-10-20T01:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T02:20:33.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Zooty asked how I was as a comment...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes, this is true. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I got all excited when I saw the email thinking a comment was made on my last poetic excursion into the fields of intimate relaxation and such. Then I noticed it was not a comment but rather a question..."hey you, how are you"? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So Zooty, you can consider yourself told on now. The entire world now knows. Well, the entire world that reads this blog anyway. So, I am doing good I suppose. Doing a little each day on a writing course but need to do more than a little each day. Have been doing less than a little blogging as of late as you can see. And as the entire world which reads this blog can also see. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have had thoughts of maybe another series or exploration of something like I did with the God series a few months ago but I am not sure what yet. That series was easy to write as all it entailed was going down memory lane. Maybe some other excursions down memory lane should be written about. Maybe. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I keep playing Literati with the Literati Lioness to whom I keep losing. It is just not right. Not right at all. One win I tell you. One win is all I have under my belt to her. Maybe I should remove the belt. I dunno. But it is painful to lose game after game. However it is also immensely enjoyable. Well, I mean up until the point it becomes abundantly clear that one more time I am being smashed into the ground where the demoralized demon losers of Literati dwell. Painful I tell you. But she is deserving of props as she does play an amazing game and obviously thinks through each move carefully and methodically unlike yours truly who still plays the game too impulsively and improvisationally at times. Oh well. Props to the amazing one! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So with this open letter to Zooty and the entire world which reads my blog I now sign off until next time. Hopefully next time will be less than a week from now... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-6199043287980602065?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6199043287980602065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=6199043287980602065' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6199043287980602065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6199043287980602065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/zooty-asked-how-i-was-as-comment.html' title='Zooty asked how I was as a comment...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-8676318630306917648</id><published>2007-10-12T03:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T04:06:53.894-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Relaxed #2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In swelling waves he floats toward her hidden palace&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In ways that sway, they each find a compelling balance&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In the royal union that wrestles within their writhing souls&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is found counterpart, made fully relaxed, made whole &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In rising clouds before him,  are seen  her unseen heavens&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Inside them binds a lasting touch, each one newly freshens&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In gentle grasping, in nestled thrashing, of two unified souls&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are found entwined, made fully relaxed, made finally whole&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-8676318630306917648?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8676318630306917648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=8676318630306917648' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8676318630306917648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8676318630306917648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/relaxed-2.html' title='Relaxed #2'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-4265944538774197276</id><published>2007-10-10T01:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T03:06:56.253-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A better day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Today was a much better day. The day was preceded by late night time on the phone with one who considers herself the Literati Lioness. OK, I coined those words. Not her. When she becomes more consistently dethroned I will have to coin another set of words, perhaps Literati Loseress or something. No Literati in the cards last night though. Just time together. And that was nice.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;For the first time ever I forgot my sobriety anniversary! Yesterday was 13 years. 13 years without a drink Maybe it is a good thing I forgot. Although it would have been nice to be appreciative of it yesterday, it is sorta nice that I completely forgot too. It is truly a part of the past now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Other things, other thoughts from the day are there but they will have to wait until another time.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-4265944538774197276?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4265944538774197276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=4265944538774197276' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4265944538774197276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4265944538774197276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/better-day.html' title='A better day...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1405026565617958326</id><published>2007-10-09T03:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T03:39:28.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I will have a pity party...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;About just under an hour ago I laid down to try and sleep.   Utterly exhausted, I did not find sleep but found tossing and turning as the mind spun it tales.   So I am up with a glass of water and a disturbed disposition. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I did not enjoy work tonight.  The fact is I fucking hated it.   Seemed like everything that could go wrong went wrong.   Then when it finally seemed like it was gonna turn around and go right it went wrong yet again.  A  fucking bad time was had.   Maybe I have had enough of what I do.    Maybe. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Had it not been for me thinking about someone special who suggested the same earlier,  it could have been possibly catastrophic.   Last weekend I suggested the same for her(think about me, not approach catastrophic proportions...lol)  when she was going through an overwhelming workload.   It was nice to have the suggestion returned.   She helped me maintain some sense of sanity amidst an insane evening. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Change scares me sometimes.   Oh hell, not just sometimes.  And I probably need to start considering a different job.   One with some real income and closer to home.    I definitely need to accelerate the copyrighting course if that is ever going to become a reality.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Can an old dog learn new tricks?    I wonder.   Right now I feel like I should type a bunch of positive, goal oriented,  I can do it,  go for it,  pie in the sky, reach for your dreams, become what you are capable of, and all the other psycho babble crap one can think of. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But my nerves are shot.  Shot.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The good news is tomorrow is a new day.  Yep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I didn't smoke tonight which is a good thing considering a smoke sounded good tonight.   In the flash of an insane moment I could have picked up a cigarette again and run from things.   That's what I do.  I run.  But I didn't. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thank God tomorrow is another day.   Yep. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1405026565617958326?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1405026565617958326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1405026565617958326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1405026565617958326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1405026565617958326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-think-i-will-have-pity-party.html' title='I think I will have a pity party...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-8502745581470064467</id><published>2007-10-07T02:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T03:02:19.622-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Relaxed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In swelling waves he floats toward her hidden palace&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In ways that sway,  they each find a compelling balance&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In the royal union that wrestles within their writhing souls&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is found counterpart, made fully relaxed, made whole    &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-8502745581470064467?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8502745581470064467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=8502745581470064467' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8502745581470064467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8502745581470064467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/relaxed.html' title='Relaxed'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-2381361925245537907</id><published>2007-10-07T00:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T00:27:29.292-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A short whine fest...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This site has become frustrating for me lately with regards to format. When I click on publish a post the post does not come out as I typed it. Lines drop down or extra rows between lines occur. I have one unpublished poem here that the words were all over the place and never would come out as they appeared in the draft. It's a longer poem which I  never could get to appear published as it should(but did as a draft). I don't get it. The format is somehow all screwy. I've changed nothing yet it is all changed. A post should appear exactly as it does in a draft, should it not? Weird. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So it is Saturday night and thought I would write. OK, I'm finished now. LOL!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-2381361925245537907?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2381361925245537907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=2381361925245537907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2381361925245537907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2381361925245537907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/short-whine-fest.html' title='A short whine fest...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-4885390514821439017</id><published>2007-10-03T01:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T00:17:43.974-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A poem from a title...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like that title so we are going to go with it and see what happens...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Reflections on the fire within &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To burn with internalized passion&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To writhe with progressive abandon&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To wallow in the fiery hells of fear&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Reflect on a path permeated aglow&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Reflect on a path perplexed, heated flow&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To remain unseen what within yet sears&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To cool with internalized passion&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To writhe with professing attachment&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To swallow each other's heavenly hold &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-4885390514821439017?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4885390514821439017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=4885390514821439017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4885390514821439017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4885390514821439017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/catalyst-for-poem.html' title='A poem from a title...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-2087417637781999895</id><published>2007-10-03T00:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T01:05:41.025-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections on the fire within...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;After missing two days of work I went back tonight.  Thankfully it was a short night as there was no stamina.  The stamina  was spent before it was even needed.   But it was a short night.   During that short night it seemed that people kept looking at me in a penetrating sort of way and smiling.  It was odd.  Maybe I am just paranoid. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;I don't know why I get so angry sometimes.  They say underneath most forms of anger there is a layer of fear.  I totally believe that.  But what is it I am afraid of that causes me to really get angry at times.  And only at a certain person.  Irregardless of her stance on things or what she may or may not do,  WHY do  I get so angry? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Why?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;I am an emotional person.  More so than many I suppose.  When I was with my second wife for those two short years, much that had been repressed began to surface.  A lifetime of emotions it seems, were coming to the surface.  I suddenly could cry for what seemed like the first time since childhood.  Any emotion one can think of suddenly became more felt  to me, including anger.   With her I developed quite a temper.  But knowing her was a real blessing even though it didn't work out.   She  was a catalyst for much that is good in my life to this day.  I will always be glad she was a part of my life.    I felt a lot and experienced a lot with her.  Because of her I love to write.   Because of her I love to feel.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Feelings are neither right nor wrong they say.  They also say it is what we do with those feelings that matter.   So. I don't like it when I hurt others because of my feelings.   I particularly don't like it when it is someone my feelings run deep for. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;At the moment I feel  distraught and  melancholy in a not so good way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-2087417637781999895?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2087417637781999895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=2087417637781999895' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2087417637781999895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2087417637781999895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/reflections-on-fire-within.html' title='Reflections on the fire within...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-879649631663933897</id><published>2007-10-02T04:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T04:25:18.235-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Expectations...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Expectations...what we expect of others...if we put undue or unrealistic expectations on others will they react in a positive way?   Some will, most won't I would say. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-879649631663933897?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/879649631663933897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=879649631663933897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/879649631663933897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/879649631663933897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/expectations.html' title='Expectations...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1314536202615662204</id><published>2007-10-02T03:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T04:01:09.493-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a short message from me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Angry, depressed, frustrated, exasperated.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Spent,  I am spent.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I hope so. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1314536202615662204?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1314536202615662204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1314536202615662204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1314536202615662204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1314536202615662204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/just-short-message-from-me.html' title='Just a short message from me...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-2400279944626373399</id><published>2007-10-02T03:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T03:48:47.414-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An excursion into frustration...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Utterly frustrated and without a right of way &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Completely devastated with nothing left to say&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eventually at that impasse where roads go no more&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Predictably, expectations without reason shut the door&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There is nothing left to say , the outcome remains the same&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So what is the point in trying? The only thing left is crying  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-2400279944626373399?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2400279944626373399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=2400279944626373399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2400279944626373399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2400279944626373399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/excursion-into-frustration.html' title='An excursion into frustration...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-4720487266821699300</id><published>2007-10-02T03:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T03:25:27.437-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The bad thing about being ill sometimes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When conflicts arise...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-4720487266821699300?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4720487266821699300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=4720487266821699300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4720487266821699300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4720487266821699300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/bad-thing-about-being-ill-sometimes.html' title='The bad thing about being ill sometimes...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-8034934777137278744</id><published>2007-10-01T14:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T15:19:42.143-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The good thing about being ill sometimes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you one of those people whose mind focuses better at times when ill? I am . As unclear as my head becomes while sick, it is in an odd way more focused sometimes. ADD? Dunno. Booze and drugs did the same thing. A way of focusing albeit in a rather unhealthy manner! LOL!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Now having said that I have lost focus on what I want to blog about. LOL! Maybe because it is love and I don't know where to begin. Maybe I will begin with the Greeks. The Greeks had at least three different words for what is translated into love. That equated into brotherly love, sexual love and unconditional love. The ultimate is unconditional love evidenced by Christ sacrifice on the cross. That would be Agape. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't think it necessary that we go around crucifying ourselves for others. It is just the willingness to do so. Loving someone to THAT EXTENT is the deal in my opinion. But we shouldn't seek martyrdom. Naaa.. To me real love or the ultimate love wherein a person only wants the best for another and will do whatever they can towards that. Having anothers best interest at heart. And if it is real it is undying. That is where commitment comes in. Some would call love a commitment. Sounds rather sterile but closer to the truth then what is commonly thought as love.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is commonly thought as love? That magical feeling that bubbles over inside one when one is enthralled with another? That euphoric place where all is good and happy? Is love a feeling? Isn't love more than a feeling? If love is only a feeling that would explain why it rarely last anymore. Because feelings come and go. And few believe in commitment anymore. It is more like what have you done for me lately? I will argue all day that love is not a feeling, that it is much larger than a feeling. Love is that which produces those wonderful feelings sometimes. Feelings are a byproduct of something else. Whether it be a thought, an action, a general mood, a reaction to something, or whatever. People "fall in" and "out of" love. Yet love is suppose to endure. True love is. Why are my parents still married? Because they love one another. Simple. They are committed to each other. Did their feelings keep them together all these years? No. On the contrary when they almost divorced when I was in junior high, their feelings would have had them divorce. But they loved one another enough to stick it out. Commitment. Choice. Love is a choice too. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why am I saying all of this? LOL! It is difficult for me to use the "love" word even if I feel it. For me when I think of the love word, most of the time in my mind and heart, I am thinking of it as the "ultimate" towards another. And that is pretty serious. Quite serious. I even have trouble telling my friends I love them although I do occasionally. That should not be a problem but it is. So I under use a word in a world where it is clearly overused. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loving for the moment is attractive in the sense that moments are what we have. Yet it is unattractive in the sense that it implies an unlastingness to me. Do we not actually have more than moments? There really is a tomorrow, not just today. Lasting moments. Moments make up time and if we are going to spend any substantial time with another and it be mutually rewarding, wouldn't both parties have to decide on that to be? Oh gawd, am I making any sense? LOL!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes we can really care about another person and care for them deeply. Sometimes much will be shared with words and otherwise and an intimate bond is formed. Sometimes feelings will be bubbling over so much that one wants to tell the other how they feel. Yet they don't. Something as important as telling someone "I love you" is best done in person. Is it fair to them to tell them without having met them yet? I am not so sure it is. Most people I have witnessed tell someone they loved them prior to meeting, didn't work out with that person. In fact I cannot think of one that did work out under that scenario. Doesn't mean it is not possible. Just that I am not aware of it. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Apparently I am right and left brained. Right now my right brain is all bubbled over with wonderful feelings. But the left is standing guard. It can be a real battle that I have a very difficult time with. And it can be next to impossible to try and explain it to anyone else. In the process misunderstandings can and do take place. I am who I am and I think and feel what I think and feel. I cannot be that which I am not. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is there any other way? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-8034934777137278744?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8034934777137278744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=8034934777137278744' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8034934777137278744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8034934777137278744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/good-thing-about-being-ill-sometimes.html' title='The good thing about being ill sometimes...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-8345230732747862434</id><published>2007-10-01T13:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T13:26:31.437-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Something interesting...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Blah, blah, blah...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-8345230732747862434?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8345230732747862434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=8345230732747862434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8345230732747862434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8345230732747862434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/something-interesting.html' title='Something interesting...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-2385397928655910051</id><published>2007-09-28T17:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T17:30:34.965-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The hazards of non instant coffee...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Greetings and regurgitations all you blog readers out there.  I am sure this blog gets read by millions.  OK, thousands.  Maybe hundreds.  OK, a few people a day might read this per that nifty software I have that keeps track of such things.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I hope that all you readers out there in reader land have had a good week. it has been good here.   Today started out rather oddly I would say.  OK, I would not say started out odd, let's say resumed odd.   I did wake up early this morning which is odd in it's own write but that was not so odd.  Eventually I found my way back to sleep.   Sleep was in the bed.  That is where I found it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Slept till flipping two this afternoon!   I crap you not!  Would I crap you?  I would not.   Realizing I was out of instant coffee I made enough for three cups in the coffee maker.  You know, those machines that supposedly make real coffee but require too many steps when one is sleepy upon awakening?  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Now what happened next has happened before and only proves the hazards of drinking non instant coffee.  Some would call it real.  I dunno.  I would call it unreal.  But with sleepy eyes I went to the computer and started checking email and surfing a bit.  In the back of my sleepy mind I remember thinking something is odd about the way the coffee sounds.  Something is odd.   But it remained only in the back of my sleepy mind.   I anxiously awaited that first cup this afternoon.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finally I heard only silence.   Time for that cup!  Upon entering the kitchen it became immediately apparent that there would be somewhat of a delay in coffee drinking.   That is unless I wanted to slurp it off the floor or counter top.   Yep, yours truly did not put the canister underneath the dealy where the coffee comes out.  So the coffee went where it went which created odd sounds which only made it to the back of my sleepy mind as it occurred.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So I decided this will not happen again anytime soon!  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I went to the store and got some damn instant coffee! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-2385397928655910051?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2385397928655910051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=2385397928655910051' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2385397928655910051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2385397928655910051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/hazards-of-non-instant-coffee.html' title='The hazards of non instant coffee...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-2915966575734828039</id><published>2007-09-24T15:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T03:41:59.051-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream a little dream...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is rare when I remember a dream anymore. It is hyper rare when I dream in color. This afternoon I did both. After awakening, each reclosing of the eyes only brought the nightmarish images back into my mind. So I got up and blogged it. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-2915966575734828039?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2915966575734828039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=2915966575734828039' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2915966575734828039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/2915966575734828039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/dream-little-dream.html' title='Dream a little dream...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-73059072421535148</id><published>2007-09-24T14:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T15:13:41.809-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyone care for a swim?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In my small Volkswagen Bug like car I was traveling around a somewhat dryish looking lake. It was outside my window to my left and contained beautiful shades of blues and browns. The browns of the muddy exposed shorelines were a rich brown. The blues of the lakes water were a vibrant blue given life from the sunny days rays.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Looking back to find the road I was traveling, I could not find it. Instead I was suddenly in the water. Stalling out was my first thought as I realized the water was deepening rapidly. My next thought was I was being sucked into this lake which had a more than strong current. It was that of a river gone wild. I was going to lose my car, no question. No, I was in danger of losing my life. It had all happened that fast. The car was almost completely submerged and sinking. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The rich muddy browns of the shore were becoming dull and distant. The sky had clouded over and the previously rich blues of the water, which now had my life in its grip, had became eerily greenish. Looking to the shore there was a small area with four or five people congregating. I screamed! "HELP"! In spite of our great distance and the loud roar of the water, they heard me. But nothing they could do. Except watch me drown. I knew the current was too strong for anyone to enter. This was it. In a few moments I would be dead. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I could stay in the car and drown or get out of the car and drown. Car or current? Which one?. I chose the car.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suddenly I was swept to the right by what must have been a counter current. Or maybe God was looking down on me. The water logged car came near shallow water and I lunged out of it, landing on my feet and starting running. Somehow I found myself on the shore. Dry shore at that. I could not look back. I could only run as fast as I could towards the people I had screamed at. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then I woke up. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-73059072421535148?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/73059072421535148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=73059072421535148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/73059072421535148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/73059072421535148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/anyone-care-for-swim.html' title='Anyone care for a swim?'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-3607128085366898881</id><published>2007-09-24T06:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T06:42:44.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Monday...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good morning. Good Monday. Good moon day. It's a good day to be mooned. It's a good day to be spooned. It's a good day to be marooned. It's a good day to swoon. It's never too soon to sound like a loon. Do climb the dune before you are fume. This is not gloom for this is your tune. This is not June yet you live in that cocoon. Don't be a raccoon but stay the human baboon. Perhaps we'll go boom in the middle of noon. Perhaps a spoon unless forks are the tune. The tune is in bloom, it didn't come too soon. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good moon day...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-3607128085366898881?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3607128085366898881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=3607128085366898881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3607128085366898881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3607128085366898881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/good-monday.html' title='Good Monday...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1835780365394229095</id><published>2007-09-22T16:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T17:00:01.211-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A sad day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This morning I was on the phone with a friend around ten or so when a knock was heard on my door.   Oh no, I thought.  It must be my neighbor  Mary.   Slowly and with  light feet I approached the door to peep through the peephole.  It was Mary.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Being on the phone I felt I could open the door as that would give me an out from any extensive monologue that was about to possibly take place.  She proceeded to tell me of a neighbor who was barbecuing and selling it for $5.00 today.  Um, OK.  Thanks for the info.  I shut the door and laughed, telling my friend, this is the sort of thing she knocks on my door for.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Perhaps she wanted to tell me something else this morning.  I don't know.   I did not stay around long enough to listen. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Perhaps she wanted to tell me she was about to take her beloved dog in to be put to sleep.  I don't know.  Today Angel, her dog was put to rest at 11 am.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tears are still in my eyes as I type this.   Mary told me just a few minutes ago when I was outside doing important things like taking the trash out and retrieving the mail.  She looked lost.  She looked sad.   She looked distraught.  She looked like she had lost her best friend.  She did I think.  " I'm sorry Mary, I said.   I am really sorry.  I know how that feels.  I have done it twice".   I stood at my patio with a lump in my throat.   Tears formed.  There was no stopping it. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So I listened to anything she had to say which was not much and very out of character for Mary.    My voice cracked and after reminding her that Angel is no longer suffering I said I want you to know I feel really sad for you right now.   She thanked me and her voice cracked.   We both started to cry. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For the first time in a long time Mary walked away first.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1835780365394229095?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1835780365394229095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1835780365394229095' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1835780365394229095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1835780365394229095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/sad-day.html' title='A sad day...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-7629011129750100180</id><published>2007-09-20T15:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T15:24:50.329-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A dose of reality...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last night was an exhausting night.  I found myself at work not only not enjoying what I was doing but I was hating it.   To escape the mental pain I was in,  I daydreamed as much as possible...lol...that became a not so good thing as I lost focus too much...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I also did some serious thinking...why am I doing something now that is no longer rewarding,  not to mention pays very little?   Why do I keep on  not finishing a writing course I am taking on Copy writing?   Why is my apartment t always unclean?  OK,  that one I can rationalize, sort of...lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Somewhere along the line,  the demons of low self confidence and procrastination have taken over.   Even if I never become a Copy writer I should complete the course and go for it.   It has the potential to provide a viable not to mention lucrative living.  It has the potential to not only match  what I once made but far exceed it.   I am not money oriented except of course when there is a lack thereof...lol...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;, I should at least finish the course.   Shoulda woulda coulda...I can think of other things I've thought about, talked about doing that remain undone...hmmm...am I getting old and set in my ways to the extent I have lost my flexibility and zest for life?  Sometimes I wonder.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Time for me to start getting ready for work...I can hardly wait...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-7629011129750100180?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/7629011129750100180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=7629011129750100180' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7629011129750100180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7629011129750100180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/dose-of-reality.html' title='A dose of reality...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-8005868928779035667</id><published>2007-09-19T02:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T02:31:00.745-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Literati reign ended last night...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My reign as Literati champion came to an end last night.  It lasted just a few days.  We won't count how many.  That would only serve to further deflate me.   And I hate deflation.    Last night I lost playing for the first time since my glorious first victory against the Literati Lioness.   It was painful.  The differential in score was more than a hundred  points.   She is quite good at this game.  Quite good.   I find it amazing that someone who does not know how to spell half the time can be so good at a game requiring spelling.  Heehee.   I would consider this one of the great mysteries of life.     She is the Lioness, hear her roar...I mean watch her spell.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-8005868928779035667?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8005868928779035667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=8005868928779035667' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8005868928779035667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8005868928779035667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-literati-reign-ended-last-night.html' title='My Literati reign ended last night...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1086321439150229296</id><published>2007-09-19T02:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T02:20:48.767-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Brother...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Those of you who are Big Brother fans must have been shocked by tonight's season finale in which Dick aka evil won the whole sha bang. Amazing. It is refreshing actually that those who had been voted off the show(and in the jury house) and EVERY ONE of whom had been at some point verbally abused by Dick...it is nice they were able to look at who played the best game objectively. They were able to look past the personal. Considering Dick many many times took his intimidation tactics way beyond reason, it is just incredible anyone voted for him, let alone that he won the half mil. If you have no idea what Big Brother is about or could care less, don't sweat it...lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1086321439150229296?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1086321439150229296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1086321439150229296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1086321439150229296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1086321439150229296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/big-brother.html' title='Big Brother...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-6038930911993830915</id><published>2007-09-17T14:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T14:50:56.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It needs no rhyme this time...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some will lose at a game of  Literati&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some will sleep during Big Brother&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some will be lovingly liked upon&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some will be held in anothers thoughts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some will win in the game of life&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some will awaken while others sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some will love for that moment occurring&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some will hold onto extensions of themself &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hold onto me as I extend myself to you...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-6038930911993830915?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6038930911993830915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=6038930911993830915' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6038930911993830915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6038930911993830915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/it-needs-no-rhyme-this-time.html' title='It needs no rhyme this time...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-507703266860616735</id><published>2007-09-16T02:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T03:16:14.279-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepiness has returned...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As I blog now for the third time during this middle of the night post Literati victory(eat your heart out oh Lioness!), this middle of the night mental marathon with The Doors, this middle of the night failure of burritos to achieve their intended purpose of sleep induction, I find myself thinking about so many things.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So many things.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Staring at the screen and contemplating it all but not typing at all does not exactly equate to expressed thoughts or feelings.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But perhaps that's OK cause I suddenly am overwhelmed by fatigue's finesse. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There is always tomorrow assuming the sun rises and so do I.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I do expect both to happen.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I feel happy in an odd sort of way.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goodnight. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-507703266860616735?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/507703266860616735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=507703266860616735' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/507703266860616735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/507703266860616735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/sleepiness-has-returned.html' title='Sleepiness has returned...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-3693112162215499215</id><published>2007-09-16T02:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T02:59:20.667-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Switch tunes when they get stuck...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Doors.   What a flippin great band they were!   Jim Morrison?  Flippin amazing.  Actually a poet who just happened to sing in a band and make it big.   Great stuff.   Break on Through is in my head but I am switching my mental tunes now to Riders On The Storm.   Got to love that one too.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have found if you get a song stuck in your head the best remedy is to replace it with an equally cool tune which does of course also get stuck in your head.   But variety is the spice of life, so they say.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wonder if that philosophy applies to tunes stuck in ones head?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-3693112162215499215?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3693112162215499215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=3693112162215499215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3693112162215499215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/3693112162215499215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/switch-tunes-when-they-get-stuck.html' title='Switch tunes when they get stuck...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-6223373320896963518</id><published>2007-09-16T02:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T03:25:54.026-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Break On Through To The Other Side...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One would think that two burritos in the middle of the night would make one sufficiently sleepy to go back to bed and get some much needed sleep. One would think. But if it is not meant to be at least I will have the pleasure to listen to the musical tones which said burritos are capable of producing. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ah the joys of late night pleasures, such as burritos...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Earlier tonight I experienced an absolutely blissful and completely euphoric moment when I beat a friend at the game of Literati! Pretty much like the game of Scrabble if you find yourself unaware of this game( I recommend eating burritos while playing it as the aftermath can distract ones opponent). Anyway, I have played this former Literati "champion" many many times and never won a single game. Until Tonight. Yes sir, yours truly broke on through to the other side, finally. The winning side. So I find myself in the wonderful state of desiring to brag about said victory. That is of course occurring. Of course. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Break on through to the other side. Time to get the Doors out. Great song by the way. You see, yours truly knows that once one breaks on through to the other side, the door remains open. Open to more victory. And soon. Unless of course the currently defeated refuses to play. Of course. Confidence is everything. Now, it only took me about, uh, shall we say , an undisclosed number of games to effect this first win. But, the other side now. To the Literati Lion who may at some point read this...beware of Twins who go bump, er, blog in the night. They have a tendency to break on through to the other side and once done, it is fashionably reoccurring. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Now, that Doors song is stuck in my head. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-6223373320896963518?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6223373320896963518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=6223373320896963518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6223373320896963518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6223373320896963518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/break-on-through-to-other-side.html' title='Break On Through To The Other Side...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-6104419116239823954</id><published>2007-09-15T04:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T03:20:18.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lioness and the Twin...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In beauty held bound by vaporous walking around &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With ugly retorts, anger's venomous accusations sound&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Storms plummet about, covering each other as without&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yet remain, their spreading calm, felt a whispering shout&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What storms, what calm, what can become when one? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's liked, what's loved, which way will overcome?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is it with you two, spoken of the Lioness and the Twin?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Descend or rise, roar or split, with each coda,  begin again.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-6104419116239823954?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6104419116239823954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=6104419116239823954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6104419116239823954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6104419116239823954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/lion-and-twin.html' title='The Lioness and the Twin...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-684114540691697180</id><published>2007-09-14T22:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T22:42:18.485-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A day without the net...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Woke up this morning at 6:30 and thought I would make a phone call.  I wanted to but the next thing I knew it was 12:30.   Yeah.   Slept tons last night.   Anyway, woke up to a blinking modem which had repercussions of no net all day and evening. Network problems with my ISP it turned out to be.  I was not a happy camper.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One more time I was reminded of how addicted to the net I am.   I did do some much needed things that needed doing.  Dishes, cleaning and laundry.  But  how boring are those things?  Quite.   Late tonight the lights stopped blinking on the blinking modem.  It was a good thing not calling the ISP anymore and listening to their never updated message regarding  the outage.  Us net addicts do such things as call every hour or half hour, you know.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Noticed that today is actually Friday even though it almost seems like Thursday. Almost.  OK, we won't  go there.  Also noticed day two in a row of feeling pretty damn good.  Nice.  I won't complain about that.  Nope.   Also noticed that the net is back tonight.  Wait, never mind.  OK.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So, I am meandering around with thoughts unfocused tonight, just wondering what to write about.    Feeling at peace I will sign off for now, until another  moment.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Peace out...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-684114540691697180?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/684114540691697180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=684114540691697180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/684114540691697180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/684114540691697180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/day-without-net.html' title='A day without the net...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-329066876282593436</id><published>2007-09-13T17:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T17:52:43.284-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it Friday?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Seems like it is Friday. All day today I have thought it is Friday and it is bordering on irritating to me now, this particular obsessive thought gone awry. The constant reminders to myself that it is in fact Thursday is becoming highly annoying! It is quite similar to getting a song stuck in your head and not being to get it out. I hate not being able to get things out. Man oh man. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's sunny outside and were it not still hot it would be a beautiful day. I think it is a beautiful day anyway. Yeah. I feel good right now. Mentally, physically, even emotionally. Spiritually, I feel neither good nor bad. All in all I just feel great. And done without having to choose to feel good. We all know how that one goes, right? Sometimes we feel like do do or caca(insert shit here if you like) for whatever reason but we will act as if we are OK and tell others the same. We will choose to be happy sometimes when we aren't. It is nice not to have to extend that sort of effort. Not today anyway. But what day is today?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is it Friday? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fuck me! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wow, I said fuck on my blog. How fucking crude and repulsive of me. Sorry about that, folks. Fuck that shit. I really don' think very highly of those people who gratuitously spill forth obscenities without reason. It makes no fucking sense whatsoever does it? I use to say fuck a lot but anymore I try not to say fuck too much as it is too fucking decadent a thing to fucking say. Words lose their fucking power or meaning when overused so it makes no fucking sense to say fuck all the time. And I think those people are fucked that fucking say fuck all the time. I bet they don't do the wild thang very fucking much either. Fuck that. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is it Friday?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-329066876282593436?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/329066876282593436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=329066876282593436' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/329066876282593436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/329066876282593436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/is-it-friday.html' title='Is it Friday?'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5597251806067110551</id><published>2007-09-12T03:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T03:46:15.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A few post spent moments</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That was fun.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; If you think I am crazy then you would be correct.  Ask me if  I care.  Na,  I don't care.  Few get out of this life unscathed by crazy's ways.  Few I think.  Some just hide it better than others.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is one of those times when you are so tired that the mind refuses to shut off so you can sleep.  I tried,  I really did try to sleep.   Lights were out(they still are),  I was in bed(not now), eyes were shut(also not now) but the mind would not cooperate. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It sucks.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So I resort to silly improvisational chanting.   Ask me If I care.  No.  I don't care.  So why do you ask?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There is almost something to write about or a poem waiting in the wings or something on the threshold of an expression.  However being too spent to spend forth the effort I shall remain as is.   A little focus would do,  a little edge would assist,  a thematic excursion would divert.   Another day, another time, another moment such as this but less than this.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Any more than this would be more than more than spent.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5597251806067110551?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5597251806067110551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5597251806067110551' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5597251806067110551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5597251806067110551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/few-post-spent-moments.html' title='A few post spent moments'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5433422598410558641</id><published>2007-09-12T03:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T03:25:43.735-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More spent than spent or how to chant</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Too tired to sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Too sleepy two tires&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;More spent than spent&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To spend more spent&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To let more sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To let more sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let's sleep more spent&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let's  spend more sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let's do it more deep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let's deepen it more&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;More spent than spent&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To let more sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To let more sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Insert invalid chorus here)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Repeat above adnauseam&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5433422598410558641?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5433422598410558641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5433422598410558641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5433422598410558641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5433422598410558641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/more-spent-than-spent-or-how-to-chant.html' title='More spent than spent or how to chant'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-8130573602469021768</id><published>2007-09-12T01:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T01:31:03.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spent...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feeling spent and ready for the mattress but I don't want to skip blogging today.  Still not feeling up to par and not sure why.   I don't really feel sick but I don't really feel well.  The truth is I have not felt up to par much of the summer.  The chronic headache seems to be trying to make its return.  Damn thing.   Never use to be a headache person.  Ugggg.  I have missed more work in the past six months due to not feeling well than the past four years combined.  OK,  I am done whining, for now anyway.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So I blogged.  Now I can go to bed.   Did you  enjoy my whining?   LOL!   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-8130573602469021768?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8130573602469021768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=8130573602469021768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8130573602469021768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/8130573602469021768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/spent.html' title='Spent...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-4395518353563896032</id><published>2007-09-11T00:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T01:16:12.841-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Odd times and old friends...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Most of us probably don't like to hear it when another is feeling ill so I won't tell you I am feeling somewhat under the weather. Yes I will. I feel somewhat under the weather. Deal with it! Perhaps it is merely a sympathetic under the weather scenario since a friend of mine has not been been feeling up to par. That must be it. Yeah. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last night an odd thing occurred. I woke up at 4:30 am after sleeping for three hours or so. That's not so odd but eventually talking to someone I haven't in 33 or 34 years is a tad odd. Yes, I would say so. Decided to add my education onto my MySpace profile. It only took my high school for whatever reason. After adding the school I did a search for alumni from the 70's and recognized a friendly face almost immediately. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sent an email and corresponded back and forth a few times at MySpace. Tonight we talked on the phone probably for the very first time EVER, not just in 33 or 34 years but ever. Strange, odd. We did not recognize one anothers voice. Lol. It was nice to reminisce about the past of so long ago. Two old friends whose years exceed half a century talking of life way back at 17 years of age or so. Indescribable.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Time is in charge. We only think we are sometimes. I guess that's why each day is so important to enjoy life to the fullest. Making moments matter, that's what matters.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Another friend had tests done today and seemed in good spirits in listening to her message. She has been in my thoughts and I am hoping all will be OK for her. I just have a strong feeling it will be. But I am not feeling too strong myself tonight. Earlier I was feeling light headed and almost faint like. Odd. I think I will blame it on her. Lol. Will I get sympathy for sympathy pain? No? OK.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's good to be alive tonight...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-4395518353563896032?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4395518353563896032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=4395518353563896032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4395518353563896032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/4395518353563896032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/most-of-us-probably-dont-like-to-hear.html' title='Odd times and old friends...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-7107504337982689277</id><published>2007-09-09T22:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-09T23:53:22.229-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A sleeping awareness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Into slumber's silence falls this nights rest&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Breathing's shallow pace motioning in the night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;A startling awareness suddenly made manifest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;A return to silence beyond unquestioned delight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Asleep now to the world, remaining closely tethered&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Living each breath together,  dreaming's airy shadow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;United in soul fashion says a writer and his other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Twins agreement roars a lioness amidst their meadow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-7107504337982689277?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/7107504337982689277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=7107504337982689277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7107504337982689277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/7107504337982689277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/sleeping-awareness.html' title='A sleeping awareness'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5120241140188399465</id><published>2007-09-08T21:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T22:54:14.879-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A desire to understand his understanding of desire</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All is not always as it seems.   As I have blogged previously about your truth, my truth and THE truth, it seems that quite often reality is found somewhere in the middle.   That can be a good thing.  Middle ground.   It's  a good thing to search for.   Reasonable too.  I suppose there are multiple forms  of middle ground worthy of search, particularly when  in the dark on things.  I don't know what I mean by that...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is not a desire to understand the beginning point for clarity?    If one wants something bad enough is that not half the battle already?   If one wants to analyze and comprehend what has gone awry in a relationship one is in or has been in, it can be a difficult task to think objectively to say the least.  How can one?  How can one be unbias?  Is it possible one can step outside of  self and think in the third person realm?    "I"  becomes "he"in other words.   Then look at what happened.   What did HE do?  What happened to HIM?   Remove the emotion from the equation.  It was not "me", it was "he" . Also what about stepping into the other persons shoes, HER shoes?   They may be a difficult fit and be very uncomfortable.  Especially if not use to wearing women's shoes...lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;However it's a beautiful thing when some degree of clarification makes itself known.   Maybe not all doubts are removed and cannot be removed.    Maybe some things may never make perfect sense but it's nice when some things do.   Make sense that is.   Listening to another and not reacting helps sometimes.  Just listening.  Caring enough to listen. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tonight I feel very much at peace.    &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The world is not a perfect place to live in.  None of us get out of this place called life other than as a human form while being here in life.   So everywhere we look, we see imperfection.   We live  in a world of imperfections.   Yet, we all seem to strive for the ultimate perfection in whatever it is we pursue.  Is that not generally true? The perfect job,   the perfect person, Mr. or Miss.  Perfect, the perfect drug, the perfect drink, the perfect this, the perfect that.  Maybe we expect ourselves to be perfect.  Doesn't exist.  Not here anyway.  Perhaps another realm. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tonight I feel very much at peace.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I feel something else also...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5120241140188399465?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5120241140188399465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5120241140188399465' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5120241140188399465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5120241140188399465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/desire-to-understand-his-understanding.html' title='A desire to understand his understanding of desire'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1309951325251429985</id><published>2007-09-08T00:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T07:09:38.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A desire to understand...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How is it possible to go out into the world, that place where other people are, buy groceries and not buy doughnuts? How can that be possible? Tonight I find myself in utter need of a doughnut and have none. The corner store is closed and forgetful me also forgot to get up there before they closed. I have been reduced to visions of future devouring of glazed doughnuts.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;But I digress now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Presently I am sorting through many thoughts and feelings. I say presently but actually have been the past several days. I feel as though I could write without ceasing and I also feel like I can't put my thoughts together to write the next sentence. Don't know if anyone can relate to that or not. Almost like a fog of sorts. I do know the fog will dissipate and I will see more clearly as that is what fogs do. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When we have a certain history with a person it is natural I think to perceive things based on that history, more or less. And I would add both the good and the bad. Of course. Are we not the sum total of our experiences? Yet how much of the time spent perceiving another's actions is out of balance with keeping our own actions or just as importantly lack of action(s), in check? Hmm. If something concerns me and I don't make those concerns abundantly clear to the other party, then what am I doing? If I only talk about it a couple of times and then not even directly what am I doing? If it comes out of me later on in an explosive sort of way is that not passive/aggressive behavior? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I find mind reading or telepathy as some would call it interesting, to say the least. . However it is not a frequent occurrence and certainly not something I expect of others. Or do I? Lol! When we  get close to someone, particularly emotionally close, the minds sometimes can connect  in a paranormal sort of way. Twins are the classic example of this. One can know what is going on with the other even when apart. Amazing but true stuff.  A point I want  to make is I do have a past history of repressed feelings and thoughts, a past history of passive-aggressive behavior. This past surfaces at times. In combination with that is a disposition whereby I sometimes expect others to read me, right or wrong, whether they can at that moment or not. They should be reading the analysis which is occurring in my spinning brain at times. Why aren't they? Do they not have a clue?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Can't they read my mind? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And that is just not fair. Not fair to them. My best friend told me long ago I was a card holder. I've never forgotten that. He said I always have a card to play. It may be hidden but there is always one to be played. I don't like surprises. Bad ones anyway. Lol. So, yes for a long long time I have been a card holder, always having at least one in reserve to be played at the proper time. That can be good for some things and bad for others. When it comes to people and relationships it may not always be a good thing.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When I am hurt by someone to what degree is that happening, due to me holding a card or two? To what degree is passive-aggressive behavior occurring? To what degree have I repressed my thoughts and feelings as opposed to expressing them? To what degree do I ultimately go off on another when I have been hurt for whatever reason? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I have written here has been an attempt to reflect a little more objectively about certain events in my life this summer from the point of view of my side of the street. I don't always keep my side of the street clean. I wish I did. I do much more than I use to but sometimes it can get trashy. I can blame no one other than myself when it occurs. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is some sort of start on something. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stay tuned. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1309951325251429985?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1309951325251429985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1309951325251429985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1309951325251429985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1309951325251429985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/desire-to-understand.html' title='A desire to understand...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1711263121169447582</id><published>2007-09-07T17:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T17:51:15.922-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dogs and where does the time go?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grossly overdue on grocery shopping, this afternoon I found my way there via my ex(first) accompanied by my youngest son. So good to see him. Damn good. He is 12 and actually likes school so far this year. Amazing. He is a great kid with a great heart. We had a blast talking nonsense of all sorts as we weaved in and out of isles. He grabbed some light bulbs for his mother. Told him I would pay for them. After all they were my ride there and I was buying 12 light bulbs already, what is 4 more? I told my ex when we rendezvoused at checkout that it was the least I could do for her. I also told her it was the most I could do for her. (insert devilish grin here). She laughed. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the way home I told her and my son of Mary, my neighbors and her ill dog(see prior post...I need to learn how to link here...oh well). When I finished telling them that sad story my ex told me Max was not doing too good.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Max is a dog we got way back in late 94, not long after I sobered up. He is acting disoriented and  one eye has gone blind. He is not very active at all anymore she said and much of the time has to be picked up if he is to move at all anywhere. It's like he is not aware of anyone around him. Very undog like.  I said it sounds like he will have to be put down soon. She agreed. I reminded her of what happened with our first dog and how he suffered too long. She promised not to do that. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With eyes full of tears I hugged my son for a long long time, not wanting to let him go. I asked him to pet Max for me. He said he would and his eyes now mirrored mine. We said our goodbyes and I went inside and cried. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Where does the time go? I blinked and Max is an old dog and ill. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This weekend I am going to go out of my way to see how Mary, my neighbor and her dog are doing. I may even flippin knock on her door if I have to. That will be a first. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1711263121169447582?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1711263121169447582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1711263121169447582' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1711263121169447582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1711263121169447582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/dogs-and-where-does-time-go.html' title='Dogs and where does the time go?'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-1472296584205694481</id><published>2007-09-07T05:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T05:48:01.615-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramble on...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As I write this it does occur to me that I should be asleep, operative words being "should be". Shoulda , woulda, coulda. Blah, blah, blah. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But I am not. I did doze out earlier then reawakened. And I am sure you the reader, whomever you might be, is greatly concerned about my sleeping patterns so I found it necessary to open the blog with the same.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Anyone for a little narcissism? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No? Ok. But this is my blog and so it is all about me. Well maybe not. Well maybe. I dunno. Let me ask my twin...he says perhaps. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ever wake up in the middle of the night and had Ramen noodles? You know the ones that have about 900% of the recommended daily intake for sodium, aka salt? Ok, so 900% is an exaggeration. Blah, blah. I just had some. This is what happens when one still has not made it to the grocery store when in dire need to do the same. One is reduced to eating things like Ramen noodles. I just had some. They were not so bad but they were not doughnuts. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The narcissistic me wanted doughnuts. You see, earlier I got into a discussion with someone who also likes doughnuts and we talked about doughnuts. Talking about doughnuts late at night is mouth watering. Talking about them certainly fueled the desire the have the same. But doughnuts I did not have. So I went to sleep albeit briefly and awoke hungry. That's why presently 900% sodium occupies my stomach. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes you just might find you get some Ramen noodles. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nice writing to you. If you think I am crazy you are correct. But as they say it takes one to know one. Original thought of mine. Do you like it?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-1472296584205694481?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1472296584205694481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=1472296584205694481' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1472296584205694481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/1472296584205694481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/as-i-write-this-it-does-occur-to-me.html' title='Ramble on...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-6910043128273757915</id><published>2007-09-05T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T13:35:44.538-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An old lady upstairs...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My neighbor from upstairs was outside today and it became immediately apparent to me it was too late to withdraw rapidly back into my apartment. I had been seen with trash bags in hand. What, am I gonna drop the bags and run back inside? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She is an older lady in her late 60's to early 70's. She is the type that will talk unceasingly to you while you say uh huh, yes, I see, and various other and assorted responses like that, while she engages in her repetitive monologue. She is a good person with a good heart. She is just lonely and so anyone who she talks to , their time becomes her time. She means no harm but is relentless. I am always the one to have to say something so I can move my stiff legs after standing there listening to her for eons. "I have to go do this or that" I will say to get away. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today I let her talk without limit. Her dog is sick. I knew he was ill but had not heard a diagnosis. It turns out he is so full of cancer that the surgery to remove a huge tumor would probably not save him and in fact might end his life sooner due to complications and/or his present health. So surgery was cancelled. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tears came to her eyes telling me this. She lives alone except for this dog who she has had for ten years now. I felt the same in my eyes knowing she was going lose this dog , probably her only real friend. She said she could just go crazy about all her medical problems , her kids problems and now her dog's but she still had her faith. Her faith in God. That could not be taken away. Her faith. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eventually we parted. Picked up the bag of trash and headed to the dumpster thinking about what she had said and thinking about her ill friend, her dog named Angel. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-6910043128273757915?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6910043128273757915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=6910043128273757915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6910043128273757915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/6910043128273757915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-neighbor-from-upstairs-was-outside.html' title='An old lady upstairs...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-904056402519832878</id><published>2007-09-04T13:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T14:10:48.932-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ambiguity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ambiguity rode the fleeting folly into a path of circumstance&lt;br /&gt;Along the way were found stones of harmful circumference&lt;br /&gt;Along the way scintillating sand was felt beneath each step&lt;br /&gt;Beneath each step clogged impressions remained adept .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intensity's push permeated a repeated path of chosen chance&lt;br /&gt;Affections felt as one, natures course a mystery, a spurious dance&lt;br /&gt;Affections fell into tumbling decay, where missteps stood awry&lt;br /&gt;Between each step symmetry saturated each,  with shaping sighs.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Compelled to walk in captivation's path of circumstance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Yet another trail with an untimely tale, unseen with mere glance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Yet stones or sand in a wind of change remain stones and sand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Between each stone remains shifted sand in beauty while at hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-904056402519832878?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/904056402519832878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=904056402519832878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/904056402519832878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/904056402519832878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/ambiguity.html' title='Ambiguity'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-194129422189268847</id><published>2007-09-03T14:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T14:35:29.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stormy weather...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's Monday and it is raining.  Rainy days and Mondays...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thundering quite loudly outside too.   Somehow it seems appropriate.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I loved my second wife deeply.   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've only deeply cared about a very few since her which ended in 1999. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why is it that sometimes those we care about the most we have the most conflict with?    Does it have to go hand in hand?   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;They say if you want to find out how messed up you are to just get into a relationship.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm messed up and I messed up.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-194129422189268847?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/194129422189268847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=194129422189268847' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/194129422189268847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/194129422189268847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/stormy-weather.html' title='Stormy weather...'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667615213815114934.post-5047822426342121887</id><published>2007-09-02T17:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T18:01:00.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's next?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't know. I don't think defending myself on certain points or even admitting my wrongs(of course I have them) or creating drama is the way to go at this point. It has been said there is your truth , my truth and then there is THE truth. I like that. Reality is quite often found in the middle somewhere, not at ends of a spectrum, either direction. Extremes are difficult. And I can be quite extreme. So right now I am quite bias.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yet I have been a pursuer of THE truth for a long, long time. It's difficult of course because who can really look at anything, anything at all, without some bias or subjectivity getting in the way? Hard to do. I know I can't. All I can do is try to minimize it. And it is a cool pursuit. Some say reality is subjective. Some say objective. I tend to think it CAN be both. I do solidly believe that if a tree falls in the woods and no one is around that it makes a noise. That is objective reality. I also believe the mind is so powerful that it can create or alter reality. Perhaps the mind can make a tree fall in the woods...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Right now I don't know why I am typing this blog or where it is going. There are many thoughts and some strong emotions permeating me. Later foks. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6667615213815114934-5047822426342121887?l=planyourdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/5047822426342121887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6667615213815114934&amp;postID=5047822426342121887' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5047822426342121887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6667615213815114934/posts/default/5047822426342121887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://planyourdreams.blogspot.com/2007/09/whats-next.html' title='What&apos;s next?'/><author><name>ImprovisedDreaming</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01832002197490364258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
