<?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:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' 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-4938108489274063322</id><updated>2024-09-04T18:58:13.393-04:00</updated><category term="Adventure"/><category term="Clairvoyant"/><category term="Fear"/><category term="Eerie"/><category term="Romance"/><category term="Adrenaline Rush"/><category term="Calm"/><category term="Desperation"/><category term="French"/><category term="Helpless"/><category term="Indifferent"/><category term="Awe"/><category term="Chaos"/><category term="Comfort"/><category term="Confidence"/><category term="Confusing"/><category term="Death"/><category term="Determination"/><category term="Extremely Sad"/><category term="Freedom"/><category term="Gay"/><category term="Hunger"/><category term="Journal"/><category term="Love"/><category term="Lucid"/><category term="Not a Dream"/><category term="Relief"/><category term="Sex"/><category term="Witty"/><category term="Worried"/><title type='text'>I Sleep 2 Dream</title><subtitle type='html'>Stories of life when my eyes are closed...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-4767426760602825261</id><published>2014-03-01T12:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2014-03-01T12:20:36.980-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fear"/><title type='text'>Trapped on a Large Boat</title><content type='html'>I find myself trapped on a large boat with about six others. An evil man has kidnapped all of us and plans to kill us. He sits in another room contemplating. He comes out and interacts with us occasionally and we all sit in fear.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/4767426760602825261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2014/03/trapped-on-large-boat.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/4767426760602825261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/4767426760602825261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2014/03/trapped-on-large-boat.html' title='Trapped on a Large Boat'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-7499874373330947181</id><published>2014-02-27T18:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2014-02-27T18:46:20.505-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Clairvoyant"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Not a Dream"/><title type='text'>Paranormal Experience: A Troubled Mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;
[Not a dream.]&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I was lying in bed after finally getting my newborn to sleep. I was sure he was going to sleep for a long stretch that night so I wanted to fall asleep as quick as possible. Then, I ended up lying there having an anxiety/stress attack. I laid there for two hours replaying everything that annoyed me about someone who constantly throws their opinions out about our parenting styles. I worked myself up so much that I missed out on two out of my newborn&#39;s four hour sleep stretch. The previous two nights, I had to feed him every two to three hours because he was going through a growth spurt or something. I was exhausted and in tears on and off laying there trying to fall asleep. My mind would just not silence! Eventually I fell asleep. And when I woke up to feed him, I noticed I had a facebook message from someone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It only said, &quot;A troubled mind doesn&#39;t sleep.&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I hadn&#39;t talked to this person in a long time and I asked her what prompted the message. She said she just had a &lt;i&gt;feeling&lt;/i&gt;... and has had many &lt;i&gt;feelings &lt;/i&gt;like that.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/7499874373330947181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2014/02/real-experience-troubled-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/7499874373330947181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/7499874373330947181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2014/02/real-experience-troubled-mind.html' title='Paranormal Experience: A Troubled Mind'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-5558028817990692512</id><published>2014-02-27T18:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2014-02-27T18:23:57.889-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adrenaline Rush"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gay"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Romance"/><title type='text'>Run For Your Life</title><content type='html'>Everybody around me is dangerous. I know all of these people from high school but they are out to get me. I start shooting them one by one. They are trying to kill me! I hit a few people and run into a hallway. Both myself and a girl try to push this remote control car starter type button that will kill one another. I am unsuccessful so I run out into a different room.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Time passes and the girl I was previously trying to kill starts talking to me. She is no longer trying to kill me and finds it amusing that I was trying to kill her. We both start sensing feelings of lust and start to kiss each other. Then we start passionately making out and she stops and says, &quot;I knew you were a lesbian!&quot; I tell her that I am not. She just laughs and we start to make out again.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/5558028817990692512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2014/02/run-for-your-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/5558028817990692512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/5558028817990692512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2014/02/run-for-your-life.html' title='Run For Your Life'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-7911967195272871610</id><published>2012-09-09T11:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-09-09T11:42:40.686-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adventure"/><title type='text'>Bee Stings &amp; Moving to Alaska</title><content type='html'>I am going through this manmade plastic tunnel with my friend Candy and suddenly start to feel stings on my arms. I realize that the tunnel is filled with bees. We rush out as quickly as possible to find a scientist waiting for us at the end. He asks how many stings we have. I tell him about six or seven on my arms. I don&#39;t know the purpose of the study.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;background: white; border: 0px solid #bfbfbf;&quot;&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=324787161&amp;amp;pid=uid9041-2381679-60&amp;amp;utm_medium=widget&amp;amp;utm_source=Product+Widget&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot; style=&quot;border: 0;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/productWidgetImage?id=324787161&amp;amp;size=Large&quot; style=&quot;border-style: none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;/center&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I find myself hiking up a hill with someone. We are about to move and find a house to buy. We are heading to Alaska. I agree to move there as long as we are near the ocean and/or by mountains. Up ahead there is a large hill/cliff where people are laying on the edge. The people represent their houses. We walk up to them, up the steep mountain and the land turns vertically, making us fall off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;background: white; border: 0px solid #bfbfbf;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;padding: 5px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=353193881&amp;amp;pid=uid9041-2381679-60&amp;amp;utm_medium=widget&amp;amp;utm_source=Product+Widget&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot; style=&quot;border: 0;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/productWidgetImage?id=353193881&amp;amp;size=XLarge&quot; style=&quot;border-style: none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;/center&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/7911967195272871610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/09/bee-stings-moving-to-alaska.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/7911967195272871610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/7911967195272871610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/09/bee-stings-moving-to-alaska.html' title='Bee Stings &amp; Moving to Alaska'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-8127289738038886617</id><published>2012-09-08T11:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-09-08T11:52:35.223-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Awe"/><title type='text'>Stunning Apartment for Rent</title><content type='html'>Someone is moving out of an affordable, college type apartment. A friend of mine is looking for a good place so I suggest we go look at it together. (This friend changes back and forth between two friends. Julie &amp;amp; Janet)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;center&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;background: white; border: 1px solid #bfbfbf;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;padding: 5px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=243438833&amp;amp;pid=uid9041-2381679-60&amp;amp;utm_medium=widget&amp;amp;utm_source=Product+Widget&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot; style=&quot;border: 0;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/productWidgetImage?id=243438833&amp;amp;size=XLarge&quot; style=&quot;border-style: none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;/center&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We walk in and it is the most stunning apartment that I&#39;ve ever seen. It is about the size of a single wide trailer, with the narrow living room but above are two levels created just for magnificent displays of nicknacks and glass... or whatever! There is a spiral staircase that leads to a second floor. The apartment keeps getting bigger. It was supposed to be a small, one or two bedroom apartment but it is turning out to be huge! On the first floor, we walk to the right and find a huge room with a guy laying in bed. For some reason, I&#39;m led to believe it&#39;s her husband that has passed away. I feel like she just can&#39;t move on from it. Then suddenly, the man jolts awake and looks towards us. His bed is luxurious though there are piles of junk and clutter surrounding him. The lady who lives didn&#39;t really explain much about him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;background: white; border: 1px solid #bfbfbf;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;padding: 5px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=366742884&amp;amp;pid=uid9041-2381679-60&amp;amp;utm_medium=widget&amp;amp;utm_source=Product+Widget&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot; style=&quot;border: 0;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/productWidgetImage?id=366742884&amp;amp;size=Large&quot; style=&quot;border-style: none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;/center&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We walk up the spiral staircase. Everything is so beautiful. She shows us her bedroom. Once we climb up the staircase, we have to also climb on a rickety ladder to get up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;center&gt;
&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;background: white; border: 1px solid #bfbfbf;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;padding: 5px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=100007941&amp;amp;pid=uid9041-2381679-60&amp;amp;utm_medium=widget&amp;amp;utm_source=Product+Widget&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot; style=&quot;border: 0;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/productWidgetImage?id=100007941&amp;amp;size=Large&quot; style=&quot;border-style: none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;/center&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We go to the basement and it is a huge farmer&#39;s market filled with fresh vegetables and herbs. The market is made for the tenants disposal. The tenants have no need to go grocery shopping because all the food they could ever want is produced in their basement. It&#39;s amazing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;
&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;background: white; border: 1px solid #bfbfbf;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;padding: 5px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=360995591&amp;amp;pid=uid9041-2381679-60&amp;amp;utm_medium=widget&amp;amp;utm_source=Product+Widget&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot; style=&quot;border: 0;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/productWidgetImage?id=360995591&amp;amp;size=Large&quot; style=&quot;border-style: none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;/center&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/8127289738038886617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/09/stunning-apartment-for-rent.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/8127289738038886617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/8127289738038886617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/09/stunning-apartment-for-rent.html' title='Stunning Apartment for Rent'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-9031217192980587029</id><published>2012-08-27T11:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-27T11:16:13.640-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lucid"/><title type='text'>Lucid Dream- Flying &amp; Telling People I&#39;m Dreaming</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m at a friend&#39;s house. Her house is haunted by a scary ghost. I walk upstairs into her bathroom and look in the mirror. There is blood running down, all over my face. I am so scared.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think to myself, I don&#39;t want to be this scared. I hate this feeling. And instantly, I realized that I was dreaming because this is too unreal to be true.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now that I&#39;m not scared anymore, I try to think of something cool to do. I can do whatever I want because I know I&#39;m only dreaming. The only thing I think of is to start flying. I fly around and it is so cool.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then, I am getting a piggy back ride from a stranger. I like the closeness. It&#39;s somewhat romantic. Instead of feeling romance from this stranger I decide to change him into my husband. I can instantly tell he is my husband just by the back of his head. I get off his back and he turns back into the stranger. He is mad that I did this. While running, I yell back at him, &quot;This is only a dream! We are dreaming! YOU are dreaming! It isn&#39;t real!&quot; He does not believe me. I keep running and then he is gone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I run into my friend Deeve. He is trying to talk to me but I keep flying up above him. I tell him that we are only dreaming! I tell him over and over that this is a lucid dream. I want him to remember this in the morning. I realize that it&#39;s only my dream but I&#39;m curious to find out if he will dream about this too. I tell him again to remember this dream.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
---&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wake up and email him. Still waiting to hear back. :)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/9031217192980587029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/lucid-dream-flying-telling-people-im.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/9031217192980587029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/9031217192980587029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/lucid-dream-flying-telling-people-im.html' title='Lucid Dream- Flying &amp; Telling People I&#39;m Dreaming'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-2271085122877594830</id><published>2012-08-27T10:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2014-02-27T18:16:27.548-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Clairvoyant"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Relief"/><title type='text'>Wedding Drunkenness </title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;background: white; border: 1px solid #bfbfbf;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;padding: 5px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=350189447&amp;amp;pid=uid9041-2381679-60&amp;amp;utm_medium=widget&amp;amp;utm_source=Product+Widget&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot; style=&quot;border: 0;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/productWidgetImage?id=350189447&amp;amp;size=XLarge&quot; style=&quot;border-style: none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;/center&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m at another wedding. Doug is here too. I don&#39;t want to make a fool of myself again so I am not going to drink this time. Last time I blacked out and danced with him twice. I only remember dancing with him once...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The dancing has been going on for a couple hours now and people are starting to feel their drinks. I run into Doug outside of the dance floor and he is completely drunk. Last time he barely took a sip. He has vomit on his shirt. It&#39;s pretty gross but I ignore it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I drank way too much! I feel so sick!&quot; He drunkenly stumbles towards me and I tell him that he will be alright and give him a hug.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Do you want to dance?&quot; The music slows and I have to help him keep his balance. We dance and I feel bad that he doesn&#39;t feel well but much better about myself now that I know he didn&#39;t judge me for my drunkenness at the previous wedding. We are once and for all equals.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
----&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wake up to receive a message I&#39;ve been waiting over a week for to redeem myself from wedding drunkenness. (A message I assumed I&#39;d never get.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/2271085122877594830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/wedding-drunkenness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/2271085122877594830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/2271085122877594830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/wedding-drunkenness.html' title='Wedding Drunkenness '/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-1612263258005453636</id><published>2012-08-16T12:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-16T12:40:18.163-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Calm"/><title type='text'>Sight Reading Music at Performance</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style=&quot;float: left; margin-right: 10px;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
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At the festival, I&#39;m expected to play in my high school band again. Everyone else seems to have practiced their parts but I just get my music and French Horn and we have to perform. The lead French Horn is playing a different instrument so I will be playing the only French Horn part. I&#39;m nervous but everyone says I&#39;ll do fine. I guess I&#39;m an okay sight reader.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/1612263258005453636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/sight-reading-music-at-performance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1612263258005453636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1612263258005453636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/sight-reading-music-at-performance.html' title='Sight Reading Music at Performance'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-4037838864876800671</id><published>2012-08-16T12:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-16T12:39:21.581-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Romance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sex"/><title type='text'>Sex with Chuck Bass from Gossip Girl </title><content type='html'>Chuck &amp;amp; I are a &lt;i&gt;thing&lt;/i&gt;. It&#39;s a good thing. I doubt it&#39;s a real relationship but we are always finding places to have sex. And it is good sex. In the shower... behind curtains at a festival... everywhere. He is sexy. He says he never went down on a girl, but he did for me... in the shower. It was amazing, especially with the water dripping all over his sexy, muscular body.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUn3OCpgeSa-tMRmXi6ZQycldzRrpDshNHFKFpe-opgxL83ZKuPpwoJo5p8G9nsAmSqCREhQzw40XCkEhuLrpQpSi9Hf3zCffsKvmXnosUoykTlHp3Z_BeFrNWubZRgkmP4bVaRYptdqt/s400/2210295646_9c8ea8b3e9.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUn3OCpgeSa-tMRmXi6ZQycldzRrpDshNHFKFpe-opgxL83ZKuPpwoJo5p8G9nsAmSqCREhQzw40XCkEhuLrpQpSi9Hf3zCffsKvmXnosUoykTlHp3Z_BeFrNWubZRgkmP4bVaRYptdqt/s320/2210295646_9c8ea8b3e9.jpg&quot; width=&quot;256&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/4037838864876800671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/sex-with-chuck-bass-from-gossip-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/4037838864876800671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/4037838864876800671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/sex-with-chuck-bass-from-gossip-girl.html' title='Sex with Chuck Bass from Gossip Girl '/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUn3OCpgeSa-tMRmXi6ZQycldzRrpDshNHFKFpe-opgxL83ZKuPpwoJo5p8G9nsAmSqCREhQzw40XCkEhuLrpQpSi9Hf3zCffsKvmXnosUoykTlHp3Z_BeFrNWubZRgkmP4bVaRYptdqt/s72-c/2210295646_9c8ea8b3e9.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-1813053237513967331</id><published>2012-08-14T01:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-14T01:13:17.328-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Eerie"/><title type='text'>Evil Presence: End of the World</title><content type='html'>The world as we know it has ended. Most people have died due to starvation and disease. I&#39;m with a small group of about six people and we are constantly moving forward, trying to find something or someplace to survive.

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We wander through a forest and come across many vacant manufactured homes. I go inside a small camper and find a fridge full of unspoiled food. I grab us all granny smith apples and we leave. There is a dead man lying in the back bed. It should be very creepy but we have seen a lot of dead people over the passed months. We deal with the deaths by ignoring them and moving quickly on.&lt;br /&gt;
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We reach an opening in the forest. I see what looks like to be a small, thriving village. There are fields of crops and even some businesses up and running. This village does not accept outsiders like us. Every since the first person made eye contact with us, they&#39;ve all been giving us evil glares. We do not belong here. I can tell they want to cause us harm. We need to leave as soon as possible. It&#39;s so hard to just walk away though because we didn&#39;t know this many people existed still. We&#39;ve been alone for quite awhile. 

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We walk along a dirt road until we see a small farmer&#39;s market store. I go inside and find a piece of food to steal and shove into my pocket. I can feel an old man&#39;s feelings towards wanting to cause us harm. We need to get out of here. I quickly walk out of the store and we all head through the city. I see that a crop field has been harvested and suddenly I have my hands on some spaghetti noodles. I toss the spaghetti noodles in the field, claiming the field as mine. The noodles are supposed to grow crops. Instead of staying, I find myself being chased by someone briefly.&lt;br /&gt;
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It is night time. We make it onto the edge of a mountain side where we are on the outside parts of the village. We can see the whole village from our view. We make our way through a field of clothing lines with tons of clothes and blankets hanging to dry. I grab three blankets for us to hide in and share while we get some rest. There is a house with lights on nearby but we are all really exhausted. We try to sleep but can&#39;t because we fear being caught.&lt;br /&gt;
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Throughout this whole journey, there is an evil presence that does not like us. We have to keep moving in fear of being caught and harmed. At one point, there is a man who has power that I come in contact with. I find out that my daughter is not mine and that she must be &quot;dealt&quot; with, meaning gotten rid of. First, I am ordered to beat her with a baseball bat but instead I realize that I can adopt her. Even if she isn&#39;t mine, I can still keep her by the adoption process. [&lt;i&gt;wtf&lt;/i&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/1813053237513967331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/evil-presence-end-of-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1813053237513967331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1813053237513967331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/evil-presence-end-of-world.html' title='Evil Presence: End of the World'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-2677921042011392026</id><published>2012-08-09T17:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-09T17:28:34.715-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adventure"/><title type='text'>Adventuring into Native American Territory</title><content type='html'>I am hiking through the woods along a creek. I come to an opening and see several mountains from a distance that I had seen on a previous hike but never had the chance to hike them. I decide I want to explore that area this hike. As I walk out of the woods, still alongside the creek, I see several Native Americans camped out. Some people have long feathers on their heads, hung down from a headband. Some people are cooking meat by a fire and others washing clothes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They see me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am shocked as they all suddenly lift their loaded bows and point them towards me. I stop in my tracks and don&#39;t move. They feel threatened by me because I&#39;m an invader. I worry a little bit but I don&#39;t think they will cause me harm because I don&#39;t intend to harm them. I turn around and walk back to the woods.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later, I&#39;m at a flea market with one large wooden barn/house/warehouse at one end. Everyone I&#39;m with are trying to leave but I walk through the barn. On the other side of the land, I see more Native Americans working in the woods. The flea market is ran by them. A man talks to me when I enter the barn but I can&#39;t remember what he said. There is nothing to fear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All I know, is that I want to get back over to those mountains and explore them.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/2677921042011392026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/adventuring-into-native-american.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/2677921042011392026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/2677921042011392026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/adventuring-into-native-american.html' title='Adventuring into Native American Territory'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-4942256978699713674</id><published>2012-08-09T17:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2014-02-27T18:44:14.104-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Clairvoyant"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Worried"/><title type='text'>Worried about the Condom</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m having sex with this incredibly attractive guy and I&#39;m constantly wondering if the condom has fallen off. I don&#39;t want to be pregnant! I realize that it has not fallen off. Thank goodness.&lt;br /&gt;
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---&lt;br /&gt;
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This was a psychic dream because I woke up with texts from someone crying for help asking about the day after pill. Yep. Psychic.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/4942256978699713674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/worried-about-condom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/4942256978699713674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/4942256978699713674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/08/worried-about-condom.html' title='Worried about the Condom'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-4653526388932697736</id><published>2012-07-15T10:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-09T17:30:14.896-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Clairvoyant"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Death"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Desperation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Eerie"/><title type='text'>Realizing I Had Died Earlier In Helicopter Crash</title><content type='html'>Someone is trying to cause harm to my baby. I am looking for a babysitter and she is kidnapped. The entire time I am looking for a babysitter but it switches to her being kidnapped and I am desperately trying to find her. I keep talking to babysitters who don&#39;t seem to really care. I go on a helicopter at dusk with two other people. We are on the helicopter searching for Amelia. We come down on a road to land and instead, we crash. We all make it out alright though.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later on, while still looking for my baby, I walk passed the spot we crashed in the helicopter and see three tombstones. We all died and just now realized it. We were in shock. It was very eerie and sort of sad because of everyone we were leaving behind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
---&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Clairvoyant dream. Death + Worrying about child... a few days later, I miscarried.&amp;nbsp;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/4653526388932697736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/07/realizing-i-had-died-earlier-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/4653526388932697736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/4653526388932697736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/07/realizing-i-had-died-earlier-in.html' title='Realizing I Had Died Earlier In Helicopter Crash'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-109721035744138047</id><published>2012-07-15T10:47:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-16T19:38:00.213-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adventure"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="French"/><title type='text'>Living in Small Room in France</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style=&quot;float: left; margin-right: 10px;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;background: white; border: 0px solid #bfbfbf;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;padding: 5px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=362210050&amp;amp;pid=uid9041-2381679-60&amp;amp;utm_medium=widget&amp;amp;utm_source=Product+Widget&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot; style=&quot;border: 0;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/productWidgetImage?id=362210050&amp;amp;size=Large&quot; style=&quot;border-style: none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
I&#39;m living in France, in a tiny room inside someone&#39;s place for 350 Euros/month. I&#39;m wandering around town with a friend shopping. We see a chocolate candy store and ask the local people (in French) which chocolate is the best. They recommend two kinds. One kind is 23 Euros. My reaction is &quot;Holy Shit&quot;. The other kind is 8 Euros. I go for that one even though that one is expensive too. I have a huge dessert craving, which is rare for me. I am excited to be living in France and to experience the food culture. I love picking out different pastries at the bakeries. I think to myself, I&#39;m going to get fat. And then I retract that thought because of how much walking I will be doing here.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later on in the dream, I find out that my cousin is beating his new wife. She is withering away. I offer to hide her in my room. Because I know how much of a scam artist her and my cousin are and because she has a job, I ask her to try and pay 100 Euro/month to stay with me. She agrees and settles in. My cousin doesn&#39;t even look for her or care what is going on.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/109721035744138047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/07/living-in-small-room-in-france.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/109721035744138047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/109721035744138047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/07/living-in-small-room-in-france.html' title='Living in Small Room in France'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-6216746419451159668</id><published>2012-07-03T10:08:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-07-03T10:08:47.492-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Desperation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Romance"/><title type='text'>Search for the Guy in Another Dimension</title><content type='html'>I am in some sort of different dimension. It&#39;s a little darker/greener toned but not too abnormal. I meet several new people. One person in particular meets my eyes and we instantly have a connection. He has dark brown, wavy hair and is just slightly taller than me. We talk for a few minutes until I am helplessly in love and have fallen into his arms. We hug and kiss so passionately. I never want it to end. It&#39;s been so long since I&#39;ve felt so loved and wanted. But as fast as it all happened, it is already time to go back home. I am extremely sad but go home anyways, back to my own life in the other dimension.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As soon as I get home, I realize that I had made a huge mistake and need to get back as soon as possible. I don&#39;t know why I had to go home but there is nothing for me here anyways. I try to take buses, walk through forests, and eventually I find myself back into that dimension. There is some sort of school where he is taking classes. I search the halls/outdoors for him there. I run into several girls, some smoking weed and they ask if I want some. I decline because I don&#39;t want to fail a drug test, as I&#39;m currently searching for a career job. They ask again and tell me it&#39;s not as strong so I take a hit. It is very smooth. They were right, it&#39;s not as strong. I can just barely feel the effects, which is just the amount I needed to help conquer this desperation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On goes my search for the guy that captured my heart and soul within minutes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I run into a friend of his in a forested path. He says that he will help me find him. We walk throughout the area, searching for him. I see two other guys that resemble him but they are not him. I can&#39;t even remember his name. It&#39;s something like Arturo, but that is definitely not it. Turini? I can&#39;t remember... But this friend of his knows who I&#39;m talking about. I don&#39;t know why he didn&#39;t tell me his name but that didn&#39;t cross my mind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I&#39;m searching and searching for him, the alarm clock goes off. </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/6216746419451159668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/07/search-for-guy-in-another-dimension.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/6216746419451159668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/6216746419451159668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/07/search-for-guy-in-another-dimension.html' title='Search for the Guy in Another Dimension'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-7850482641820408638</id><published>2012-07-02T10:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-07-03T10:36:47.648-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Confidence"/><title type='text'>High Class Fashion Resale Store</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m selling used clothes to a high class fashion resale store. It&#39;s owned by a very classy, fashion designer. I walk in to find several other women there, also wishing to sell their clothes. There is a contest going on. Everyone has to model their clothes down this runway that is built into the store. For some reason, I feel like I have a good chance. At least, I am really enjoying myself. The whole place is ultra chic and modern. There are black and white tiles on the floor, black sparkly dressing rooms, and red walls. There are mirrors everywhere and very well organized racks of fancy clothing. I walk into a dressing room and put on my clothes. Another girl, holds up a sweater to the designer and asks if that is okay. She doesn&#39;t say anything. I know that she originally bought that sweater from an expensive store but apparently it is not good enough for this resale store. I&#39;m not nervous or worried about my clothing, just excited.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/7850482641820408638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/07/high-class-fashion-resale-store.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/7850482641820408638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/7850482641820408638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/07/high-class-fashion-resale-store.html' title='High Class Fashion Resale Store'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-7235053268565047660</id><published>2012-05-09T20:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-09T20:18:48.697-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Calm"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Witty"/><title type='text'>Do you believe in God?</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m in an elevator that is closing in around me. I was forced here and had my purse and phone taken away from me. I can&#39;t call anyone to get out but I&#39;m not afraid. I will outsmart the blond haired lady who is somehow associated with the devil. She might be the devil somehow. Not sure but I won&#39;t let her kill me. I remain calm as the walls fold up around my body. There is just a little breathing room near my mouth. Then the doors open (somehow) and I am out of the elevator. I am face to face with the devil-lady who is wearing a blue shirt.&lt;br /&gt;
She asks, &quot;Do you believe in God?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
I lie and say &quot;No.&quot; My 79% devil approval rate drops to 77% because she can tell I am lying. She doesn&#39;t kill me though because she is humored by my calmness and willingness to please her.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/7235053268565047660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/05/do-you-believe-in-god.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/7235053268565047660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/7235053268565047660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/05/do-you-believe-in-god.html' title='Do you believe in God?'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-1366124824483638152</id><published>2012-05-06T19:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-16T19:41:40.293-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Confusing"/><title type='text'>Water Sports Game</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m playing some sort of water sports game and I start off ahead of everyone else. I&#39;m winning. I have to press some sort of button... with my mind? And I follow these tracks in the water because I&#39;m on a tube... Whoever finishes the race wins. Well as quickly as I think I&#39;m winning, I finish in last place. I couldn&#39;t figure out how to follow the tracks or how to gain speed. I ended up slowly and going way off track.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;
&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;background: white; border: 0px solid #bfbfbf;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;padding: 5px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/apiVisitRetailer?id=358501241&amp;amp;pid=uid9041-2381679-60&amp;amp;utm_medium=widget&amp;amp;utm_source=Product+Widget&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot; style=&quot;border: 0;&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://www.shopstyle.com/action/productWidgetImage?id=358501241&amp;amp;size=Large&quot; style=&quot;border-style: none;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;/center&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I look for my husband who is in one of the lines.&amp;nbsp; The only reason I&#39;m doing these games is because he is and I don&#39;t want to be placed in an entirely different group. This is very important. Security around here is extremely tight, similar to an airport. I spot my husband and race towards him, losing my spot in my own line and trying to reach him before he disappears.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wake up.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/1366124824483638152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/05/water-sports-game.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1366124824483638152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1366124824483638152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/05/water-sports-game.html' title='Water Sports Game'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-7219075819446412876</id><published>2012-04-28T00:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-28T00:45:45.583-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Freedom"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Indifferent"/><title type='text'>Running After French Pranker Guy</title><content type='html'>I see this large bag at a store for only $5.00! It is definitely worth a good $50.00. The entire shelf is filled with expensive bags for this cheap sale price. Everyone is going crazy. I instantly find one I like and plan on buying it when suddenly we all find out that this is just a big prank. This French guy has pulled this prank and will soon get into a lot of trouble. All the higher authorities in the area are not happy with him and are planning to incarcerate him as soon as they can gather evidence and put him on trial.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Even though the higher authorities are not happy with this French man, they are allowing him to pull the prank again. He changes all the prices of the bags one more time and just like before, customers swarm the area. I watch without giving away the big joke. I find him in a hall and talk to him in French. He says that he has to go. He is going to run away from the law. I desperately ask him, &quot;HOW DO YOU CALL 911 IN FRANCE??&quot; &quot;WHAT ARE THE EMERGENCY NUMBERS?&quot; He is my only contact person and I need to know this ASAP before he leaves me. He starts running away without telling me the numbers. Suddenly he is much much farther away and I start running after him. He is about 20 minutes in front of me and I have no clue where he is going so I just start running casually. If I don&#39;t sprint I will be able to run forever. I&#39;m running down a sidewalk. I feel a sense of freedom. It feels good to run. It&#39;s a sunny day and there are lovely trees and beautiful green grass lawns. I see Lex up ahead and he is running too. I intentionally bump into him and pass him as if I don&#39;t recognize him. He notices me and I start to laugh. We are running side by side and it is nice to see him. I haven&#39;t seen him in awhile. I tell him I&#39;m looking for this French guy and blah blah blah I wake up.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/7219075819446412876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/running-after-french-pranker-guy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/7219075819446412876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/7219075819446412876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/running-after-french-pranker-guy.html' title='Running After French Pranker Guy'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-1513696629921579454</id><published>2012-04-23T18:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2014-02-27T18:16:02.639-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adrenaline Rush"/><title type='text'>Underground Society Beneath the United States</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m trying to find my cousin James. He disappeared about a year ago and no one has heard from him since. He was living as a bum with some government food stamps and living allowances but chances are he even lost all that. My aunt knows where he is though and since we&#39;ve been talking a lot, she is letting me in on their secret. He is doing okay, alive nonetheless, and living underground, beneath the United States in a secret society. This is what my aunt tells me though I don&#39;t believe her entirely because she is prone to lying. Soon enough, I am there in the underground society. The lights are a bright but yellowy toned. I don&#39;t see James anywhere, nor do I expect him to be there. My aunt tells me he is working but I highly doubt it. He probably quit and is living on the streets beneath the land, rotting away. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am with my aunt and several others conversing in a building of some sort. Outside there is a large driveway that runs up a pretty steep hill. It&#39;s a dirt road with green grass along the side and several trees scattered alongside of the road up towards the top of the hill. There is suddenly something chasing us all. I do not have time to get in my vehicle and drive away from this THING chasing us. It is an unknown &lt;i&gt;thing &lt;/i&gt;but I have to get away fast or else I&#39;m done for. I start sprinting up hill because I feel like I can get there faster than any other method of travel. I&#39;m running and running but the weight of my body is slowing me down. I can&#39;t seem to go fast at all. There are several rocks and pits in the dirt that I keep getting stuck in. Eventually the scene changes but I am holding on for dear life to another person. Either the other person or I am getting pulled by this machine/&lt;i&gt;thing&lt;/i&gt;. I&#39;m holding on so tight. I&#39;m not really scared even though it&#39;s bad. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is more to this dream that I can&#39;t remember.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/1513696629921579454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/underground-society-beneath-united.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1513696629921579454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1513696629921579454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/underground-society-beneath-united.html' title='Underground Society Beneath the United States'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-2330766448203063014</id><published>2012-04-20T22:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-20T22:40:35.303-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Extremely Sad"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Helpless"/><title type='text'>Back With My Grandma During Her Last Days</title><content type='html'>I am with my grandma. She is alive in my dream but going through cancer treatments still. Her hair is still gone/ slightly growing back in. She is not doing so well. We are in a room, where she is laying on a couch. Some nurses come in to check on her and ask her if she can swallow her pills. She acts out that she can&#39;t swallow the pills very well. The nurses are going to grab her and give her something to pass out so they can fix the problem and ensure she takes her medicine. She mouths my name in extreme terror. She is so scared. She yells it but it barely comes out because she is &quot;loopy&quot; from all the pain medications. She yells it twice and I see her fearful eyes staring back at me. The nurse grabs her head and shoves a needle in her forehead. She instantly passes out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t handle all the pain. I don&#39;t want her to suffer like this. This is so unfair. I don&#39;t know what to do. Somehow I know the nurses are doing what is best for her even though they injected her with such force. :/&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
--&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My other grandma is comforting me in my dream. I have tears in my eyes. I wake up.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/2330766448203063014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/back-with-my-grandma-during-her-last.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/2330766448203063014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/2330766448203063014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/back-with-my-grandma-during-her-last.html' title='Back With My Grandma During Her Last Days'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-2307602053932760620</id><published>2012-04-20T22:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-20T22:30:32.669-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Determination"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fear"/><title type='text'>Crossing The Lake at Midnight</title><content type='html'>There is a large, lake that I have to cross for some reason. It is midnight and hence, very dark outside. It&#39;s pitch black. It is kind of scary for some reason. There is some type of high school activity going on in a lit up warehouse type place. It is either a football game after party or school dance. It&#39;s like a pole barn with a huge light outside. I&#39;m wandering around outside. I walk past several teenagers and then decide it&#39;s time to cross the lake. I start swimming and suddenly someone I know is swimming across with me. I see a dolphin swimming up next to us. It&#39;s really exciting until I become afraid. I have a terrifying feeling the dolphin will turn into a shark and attack us. I feel like I have seen that in a movie or on the discovery channel. I try my best to block it out and we eventually make it to the other side. I climb up a dark brown ladder up to a dock. I see a large group of homeless children shivering and huddling together in a corner of the fence. I instantly run over and scoop of the baby and let the small kids wrap their arms around me. For some reason, I am not wet here. I am warming them up because they are so cold. I don&#39;t know why all these kids have been abandoned but I am not letting them stay like this. I decide to sleep there with them and in the morning I will figure out what to do. I wake up.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/2307602053932760620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/crossing-lake-at-midnight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/2307602053932760620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/2307602053932760620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/crossing-lake-at-midnight.html' title='Crossing The Lake at Midnight'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-1128917199605307507</id><published>2012-04-20T22:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-20T22:20:56.804-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adventure"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="French"/><title type='text'>Trying To Move In With French Guy</title><content type='html'>I am in a place that is very similar to the Grand Place in Brussels, but I am in France and not Belgium. I want to move here permanently since I am only visiting on vacation. I have no life anywhere else so it is perfect. I love France. I love speaking French. I meet this attractive, blond haired French guy. He shows me his apartment and jokes to me that it is for rent. I respond with serious interest.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I would love to check out your place!&quot; He opens the door and I see everything neatly organized. There is a lot of black and white. It is very fancy in here. I don&#39;t even think about the fact that it must cost a fortune to live here.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I was just kidding. I&#39;m not renting out. I still live here.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Do you need a roommate?&quot; I persist on. &quot;Tu t&#39;appelles comment?&quot; I continue in French try to make my American-self worthy of staying in his country. &quot;Tu viens d&#39;ici?&quot; I try and ramble as much French as I can remember. His friend is walking nearby us and is teasing me in all my effort. We walk through the Grand Place and head out somewhere... Who knows where... BECAUSE I WAKE UP.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/1128917199605307507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/trying-to-move-in-with-french-guy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1128917199605307507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1128917199605307507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/trying-to-move-in-with-french-guy.html' title='Trying To Move In With French Guy'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-4221151691901406096</id><published>2012-04-20T22:13:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-20T22:13:56.157-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fear"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Helpless"/><title type='text'>Husband is Beating Me</title><content type='html'>My husband is beating me. I&#39;m huddled into a corner feeling helpless. The light is somewhat dim and yellow tinted. The walls might be yellow. I can&#39;t move because I&#39;m frozen in pain and fear. He has stopped but I feel a strong sense of being defeated. I have no more will to fight for my own life. I will obey everything he tell me to do. I wake up.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/4221151691901406096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/husband-is-beating-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/4221151691901406096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/4221151691901406096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/husband-is-beating-me.html' title='Husband is Beating Me'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4938108489274063322.post-1753330928837146893</id><published>2012-04-13T17:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-13T17:30:50.947-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Journal"/><title type='text'>Can&#39;t Remember My Dreams</title><content type='html'>The purpose of this blog is to try to gain dream recollection by writing down my dreams quickly after waking up... or if I&#39;m lazy, later in the day. (But then I miss several details.) I haven&#39;t been posting because well, I haven&#39;t remembered my dreams. Lame. So I just wanted you all to know that I am here... waiting to go back to sleep and wake up with a dream to write down! :P&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/feeds/1753330928837146893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/cant-remember-my-dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1753330928837146893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4938108489274063322/posts/default/1753330928837146893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleep2dream.blogspot.com/2012/04/cant-remember-my-dreams.html' title='Can&#39;t Remember My Dreams'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14947287064200874571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>