<?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-5944299741026461023</id><updated>2011-12-22T03:22:36.395-08:00</updated><category term='women'/><category term='walking'/><category term='Chris Osgood'/><category term='wedding reception'/><category term='Killer Dog'/><category term='mail lady'/><category term='mild nightmare'/><category term='Gay Pride'/><category term='confusing'/><category term='school'/><category term='girlfriend'/><category term='abyss'/><category term='fighting'/><category term='Detroit Red Wings'/><category term='people'/><category term='Computer Virus'/><category term='eybrow'/><category term='baked cheese bread'/><category term='unlock'/><category term='weird'/><category term='Marty'/><category term='fear'/><category term='bus'/><category term='Zombies'/><category term='Dreams'/><category term='embarrassed'/><category term='Nate'/><title type='text'>Pauly's Dreams</title><subtitle type='html'>My dreams so far...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-8085236286823384814</id><published>2010-02-15T04:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T04:54:30.032-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confusing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Killer Dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unlock'/><title type='text'>Killer Dog</title><content type='html'>This German Shepherd was being skinned alive with a weird chain mechanism attached to each side of its head which began to spin.  Chains on each side that ended with hooks attached to the poor dogs flesh.  Slowly pulling back in a way I have never seen.  I could see from the front as the dog was ripped from it's fur.  I have no idea why this was happening but one of the culprits got in the way as the dog was free from the skinning process.  Unleashing it's furry on this man by grabbing him by the throat and then began shaking wildly.  Killing him as he screamed...  I felt like he deserved it though being one of the people who set it all up this way.  I was a little frightened by the dog because of what had happened to it.&lt;br /&gt;That was just part of the dream, and that also makes little sense.&lt;br /&gt;There was a lot more to the dream I wish I could remember it all because the dog thing had little to do with the rest of the dream.&lt;br /&gt;There was also things to do with schools and problem solving a matter with a trailer with a confusing way to unlock something?  I cannot explain...&lt;br /&gt;One thing I've learned is that if I do not type it out as soon as it happens in my dreams I will most likely forget them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-8085236286823384814?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8085236286823384814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=8085236286823384814&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/8085236286823384814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/8085236286823384814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2010/02/killer-dog.html' title='Killer Dog'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-4557504705378236124</id><published>2010-01-22T07:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T07:54:27.696-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mild nightmare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Computer Virus'/><title type='text'>Computer Virus</title><content type='html'>I had a dream last night that my computer somehow got a virus and it was difficult for me to even shut down my computer.  Usually I can fix something like that but I guess in this dream I could not.  A virus that is out of my reach?  I continued to restart my computer only to find the virus was still there.  I consider it, a fairly mild nightmare.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-4557504705378236124?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4557504705378236124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=4557504705378236124&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/4557504705378236124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/4557504705378236124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2010/01/computer-virus.html' title='Computer Virus'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-6486097551378402211</id><published>2010-01-18T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T23:12:02.529-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eybrow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baked cheese bread'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlfriend'/><title type='text'>The Eyebrow</title><content type='html'>My friend Nate which actually I havn't seen in a few years appeared in a dream.  The strange thing was that he was growing out his left eyebrow purposefully.  It looked as if his left eyebrow was a goatee sticking out of his head.  His right eyebrow was trimmed and looked normal.  Later on I got a call from my cousin Marty, he said his girlfriend was in the hospital.  Then suddenly he showed up at my house with baked cheese bread as a gift.  Thought I was hungry.  He also said he couldn't stay because his girlfriend had a heart attack and he had to rush to the hospital right away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-6486097551378402211?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6486097551378402211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=6486097551378402211&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6486097551378402211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6486097551378402211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2010/01/eyebrow.html' title='The Eyebrow'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-3532242979472147272</id><published>2009-12-10T17:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T17:10:08.510-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abyss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='embarrassed'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mail lady'/><title type='text'>No Car So I'm Walking</title><content type='html'>I had to walk home because I had no car and missed my bus.&amp;nbsp; Even though there was other buses apparently I missed my bus because I was talking to the mail lady.&amp;nbsp; On my way home walking I ran into old friends and they wanted to invite me to go places with them, one after another.&amp;nbsp; I kept saying no because I was too embarrassed that I had no car and had to walk. They all understood and said their goodbyes.&amp;nbsp; Not long after that a car full of girls from school about 17 years old or so almost ran me off the sidewalk.&amp;nbsp; It was in slow motion and I could see the look on their faces.&amp;nbsp; The brunette driver kept looking down and not paying attention to the sidewalk and then they cruised passed me.&amp;nbsp; The car was packed full of it seemed about 7 girls all packed in tight.&amp;nbsp; The car was maybe a Festiva or Aspire if you've ever seen them type of cars?&lt;br /&gt;After the car passed me I thought it was going to run into a telephone pole but instead fell into what looked like a little ditch.&amp;nbsp; But when the car fell in it slowly was sinking faster and faster.&amp;nbsp; There were a lot of other people around who had seen it as well even though they were a bit spread out.&amp;nbsp; I ran to the rescue only to find the car falling into a square mud hole that fit the car almost perfectly.&amp;nbsp; I immediately leaped in thinking I could somehow pull it out on my own or at least slow it down but that didn't work.&amp;nbsp; The car somehow slowly flipped to it's side stopping horizontally but up against one of the walls.&amp;nbsp; It had to be about 10 feet wide but it didn't seem like that.&lt;br /&gt;Then I jumped lower than the car on the opposite side of the car but lower down.&amp;nbsp; The girls are screaming every time the car jerks further and further down.&amp;nbsp; When I looked down it was dark and it seemed like it would never end.&amp;nbsp; A square abyss into the unknown...&amp;nbsp; That's when I considered my own safety and was hoping to hold to my grip.&amp;nbsp; On the walls about every 6 feet a metal bar was holding the walls up along with the corners running down the four corners.&lt;br /&gt;From above people were yelling that they found someone to help.&amp;nbsp; Relief from the girls was sort lived because when I thought I couldn't make it because it would take too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is when I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kind of just spit this one out as fast as I could so I hope it makes some sort of sense.&lt;br /&gt;The fear of dying does wake me up quite a bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-3532242979472147272?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3532242979472147272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=3532242979472147272&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/3532242979472147272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/3532242979472147272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2009/12/no-car-so-im-walking.html' title='No Car So I&apos;m Walking'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-1063445742992570079</id><published>2009-11-28T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T17:08:50.388-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zombies'/><title type='text'>Zombies</title><content type='html'>This dream started out where I was being led to some generals headquarters.  I was being led by some classmates in my college(which is weird because I've never been to college) by the time we got there I had no idea how I would even get back.  It was so confusing!  Anyways we were in the generals quarters when a huge metal ball that was floating in the corner opened up and shot across to one of the people and infecting him into a zombie like creature.   Of course like most zombie films the creature moved incredibly slow.&lt;br /&gt;I freaked out and ran for my life, not knowing where I was going.  The place I was in reminded me of a mental ward but it was all part of the same building where I went to school and it was part of a military base.  Needless to say it was a big place.  Things carried on and went back to normal untill I was looking down into a courtyard and saw about 50 people that were being infected simply by breathing on a person it would become a Zombie.&lt;br /&gt;So I ran.  Later I was trying to walk up steps.  When this student kept crawling behind me hitting my shoes and spitting at my feet, while I was trying to walk up the winding staircase that seemed to never end.  I kept yelling at him and kept trying to kick him in the face but nothing would stop this guy from trying to antagonize me!  Finally I told someone in charge and I was put into a part of the building that was vacant but there were beds lined up almost like it was a hospital.  Fearing for my life because there were zombies out there somewhere.  A lady in a nurses outfit came to me with food.  I tried to tell her of zombies and that I needed to know a way out just in case.  She told there were stairs up the hall but insisted there was nothing for me to worry about.&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after I was being asked questions by an attractive brunette who seemed to be like my lawyer the way she was asking questions.  I told her there were other people in the school who may be able to help the committee understand better than I could.  She said since I was a water specialist (though she didn't say water specialist she said some long word that started with an "M" but meant water specialist in my dream) and that they asked for me in particular.  By the end of our conversation the woman seemed to believe me!  But as soon as the committee arrived she was no where to be found.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to convince them but of course they didn't believe me.  I tried to tell them that in the generals headquarters was a metal sphere infecting everyone.  The main guy who was of course skeptical of the whole story said "I would of heard from the general about this by now".&lt;br /&gt;I said "For all we know the general is infected as well".&lt;br /&gt;That is how the dream pretty much ended.  It was very hard to explain certain parts of the dream but I did my best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-1063445742992570079?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1063445742992570079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=1063445742992570079&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/1063445742992570079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/1063445742992570079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2009/11/zombies.html' title='Zombies'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-6079813976453585637</id><published>2009-09-16T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T10:56:35.442-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gay Pride'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding reception'/><title type='text'>Gay Pride</title><content type='html'>I was at someones wedding reception and the thing I remember most is 10-15 women ranging anywhere from 18 to 35 years of age.  Stand up in front of everyone and proclaim they're gay pride!  While everyone was clapping I was thinking, there goes more potential women I'll never have a chance to be with...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-6079813976453585637?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6079813976453585637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=6079813976453585637&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6079813976453585637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6079813976453585637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2009/09/gay-pride.html' title='Gay Pride'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-1816145877103206468</id><published>2008-12-27T17:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T18:04:17.028-08:00</updated><title type='text'>X girlfriends</title><content type='html'>Dreams of X-girlfriends are sometimes the worse.  I have dreams about everyone of them and it's not much fun.&lt;br /&gt;Friends,family and people I don't even know are at this party having a great time.  But I'am not because my girlfriend decides shes going to sleep without me.  Not sleep with someone else, just go to sleep by herself and I'm not invited to go to sleep with her.  Turns out she doesn't go to sleep at all but is dressed in sleepware, red stretch pants and a white shirt looking good and making me jealous.  She was talking with different  people amongst the party but it really got on my nerves because she wanted to go to sleep so bad but instead she stays up to ignore me and have fun without me.&lt;br /&gt;One of my sisters came up to me and I told them I wasn't having much fun.  She agreed with me.&lt;br /&gt;Thats when I was done with it.  I went out the front door it was dark but there was a street light and I started walking to the right when I noticed I was walking towards the house I grew up in untill I was a teenager.&lt;br /&gt;The house I came out of was Traceys about seven houses down across the street.  But I never dated Tracy.  It was weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure my X-girlfriends would be pleased to hear I still dream about them?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-1816145877103206468?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1816145877103206468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=1816145877103206468&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/1816145877103206468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/1816145877103206468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2008/12/x-girlfriends.html' title='X girlfriends'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-3948845960739355139</id><published>2008-11-18T16:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T17:20:29.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like the "Fugitive"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm the bad guy in this one.  Or at least I'm wanted by the police for something I didn't do of course.&lt;br /&gt;I was trying to convince the cop I was innocent, ending without much sway.&lt;br /&gt;It seemed like it was right out of the movie "Fugitive" if you've ever seen that movie?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHubNjdqtIE/SSNpqSTgJ1I/AAAAAAAAECA/soJRnS_KvWc/s1600-h/tommy+lee+jones+fugitivejpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 311px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHubNjdqtIE/SSNpqSTgJ1I/AAAAAAAAECA/soJRnS_KvWc/s400/tommy+lee+jones+fugitivejpg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270172164142671698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Anyway, instead of a bus it was a subway train we were in.  But we were outdoors and we were derailed.  Unfortunately we were still in the way of the locomotive that was coming at us.  I took that as my chance to barely escape.&lt;br /&gt;Unlike the movie though, I didn't save the guy who needed to be saved.&lt;br /&gt;I narrowly got out between two of the subway cars and ran for my life.&lt;br /&gt;Not ever looking back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very small part of my dream but thats all I can remember.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-3948845960739355139?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3948845960739355139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=3948845960739355139&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/3948845960739355139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/3948845960739355139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2008/11/like-fugitive.html' title='Like the &quot;Fugitive&quot;'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHubNjdqtIE/SSNpqSTgJ1I/AAAAAAAAECA/soJRnS_KvWc/s72-c/tommy+lee+jones+fugitivejpg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-6329164982730735941</id><published>2008-11-12T22:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T17:24:16.747-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Detroit Red Wings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chris Osgood'/><title type='text'>Chris Osgood</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The only thing I can remember about this particular dream is that Chris Osgood The Detroit Red Wings Goalie was in it.  But when he took off his goalie mask, the back of his head had another face sunken in on his left side.  A mutated gross looking face that was looking at me. Everyone acted like it had always been there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was a very odd dream, considering I have never met Chris Osgood?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHubNjdqtIE/SSNqpvZTGMI/AAAAAAAAECI/gRUJnvidsms/s1600-h/osgood+glasses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHubNjdqtIE/SSNqpvZTGMI/AAAAAAAAECI/gRUJnvidsms/s400/osgood+glasses.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270173254283368642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-6329164982730735941?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6329164982730735941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=6329164982730735941&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6329164982730735941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6329164982730735941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2008/11/chris-osgood.html' title='Chris Osgood'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHubNjdqtIE/SSNqpvZTGMI/AAAAAAAAECI/gRUJnvidsms/s72-c/osgood+glasses.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-2426781354538713654</id><published>2008-09-11T03:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T03:25:28.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I awoke, and then quickly wrote this down</title><content type='html'>"Banquet hall pushing&lt;br /&gt;chairs at the robot&lt;br /&gt;collecting blue life/energy&lt;br /&gt;the only thing that saves&lt;br /&gt;me is a bunch of people&lt;br /&gt;show up"&lt;br /&gt;(make sense to you?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-2426781354538713654?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/2426781354538713654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=2426781354538713654&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/2426781354538713654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/2426781354538713654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-awoke-and-then-quickly-wrote-this.html' title='I awoke, and then quickly wrote this down'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-4441697438488096514</id><published>2008-03-30T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T21:06:05.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Killer Pterodactyl's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A  bunch of huge  flying flesh eating   pterodactyl things is the only way for me to describe these things.  Burt wings like they were straight from Hell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;To say the least I was freaking out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Mom was there though, telling me how to kill them.  That, was the weird part?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-4441697438488096514?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4441697438488096514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=4441697438488096514&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/4441697438488096514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/4441697438488096514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2008/03/killer-pterodactyls-bunch-of-huge.html' title=''/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-9140935974564703528</id><published>2008-03-10T22:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T22:34:17.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Are dreams meant to be interpreted, I'm not so sure?  I have had dreams of people I have never met yet?  Dreams of things that might never happen?  Bad people or even good people fill my dreams every night?&lt;br /&gt;Worse case scenario, would be a killer trying to kill me of course.  That happens in my dreams plenty enough.&lt;br /&gt;But not as much, as the good people that I meet in my dreams and I will never meet in real life. Great people in my dreams. Where are they?  If they actually resided in real life some where?&lt;br /&gt;I would like to run into them all the time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-9140935974564703528?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/9140935974564703528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=9140935974564703528&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/9140935974564703528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/9140935974564703528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2008/03/are-dreams-meant-to-be-interpreted-im.html' title=''/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-1033035558553009835</id><published>2008-01-20T23:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T23:24:11.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;script src="http://gmodules.com/ig/ifr?url=http://www.gingagadgets.com/sailing/sailing.xml&amp;amp;up_title=Sailing&amp;amp;up_tags=sail%2Csailing&amp;amp;up_tags_mode=all&amp;amp;up_per_new=50&amp;amp;up_pause=20000&amp;amp;synd=open&amp;amp;w=300&amp;amp;h=260&amp;amp;title=__UP_title__&amp;amp;border=%23ffffff%7C1px%2C1px+solid+black%7C1px%2C1px+solid+black%7C0px%2C1px+black&amp;amp;output=js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-1033035558553009835?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1033035558553009835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=1033035558553009835&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/1033035558553009835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/1033035558553009835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-6309336208473270519</id><published>2007-12-30T20:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T21:00:33.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was working for a new company.&lt;br /&gt;Office type job desk's far away from each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dream though was pretty erratic,  part of it I was trying to find a chair someone took.  Apparently there was not enough chairs to go around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But every dream of mine usually consists of good looking girls that all&lt;br /&gt;might want me at some point or another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey,  It's a dream right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, a girl that showed no interest in me was showing me around.&lt;br /&gt;Then there was talk of a new years party and I was in the dancing room with her suddenly. Breaking it down, dancing along with some song.   I can't remember but I'm pretty sure it would make almost anyone dance.&lt;br /&gt;Then she was totally was&lt;br /&gt;into me, after she saw me dance and all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams are funny in my case.  I don't know I've said it before but I have mostly really good dreams?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-6309336208473270519?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6309336208473270519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=6309336208473270519&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6309336208473270519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6309336208473270519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-was-working-for-new-company.html' title=''/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-8242984992621522824</id><published>2007-12-10T22:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T23:05:00.151-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had a dream with a girl I'd rather not mention...&lt;br /&gt;Funny how dreams can be?&lt;br /&gt;Anyways the dream went as far as controlling a woman's temper, just by the simply touching her skin.&lt;br /&gt;In my Dream...She was not like any other woman though, this only happened to her when she got upset.!?&lt;br /&gt;Her veins would turn black with rage!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her skin, if she was not touched... it would turn quickly black as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I was the only one that was able to calm her down?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few times, she knew what I was doing and was immune to my touch somehow?&lt;br /&gt;When I couldn't calm her with my touch, someone else stood up and their touch calmed her down and I realised she wasn't the one for me at that point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She never was...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-8242984992621522824?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8242984992621522824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=8242984992621522824&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/8242984992621522824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/8242984992621522824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-had-dream-with-girl-id-rather-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-3962028195895481306</id><published>2007-10-26T17:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T17:37:24.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Elliot</title><content type='html'>Two things stuck out in this dream I had the other night.  The first thing was my bosses boss told me he was going to promote me and that I was long overdue.  I was happy to hear that.  Then I found myself on a first date with the girl Elliot from the show "Scrubs"?&lt;br /&gt;I can't even remember what we were doing for the first date, but she abruptly kissed me and we fell backward onto a girl behind me.  I felt like I was on the show!  Because we just laughed as we appollogized to the girl.&lt;br /&gt;The weird thing is that Elliot (in the show) does not have the most attractive quailitys for me.  She would most definitely annoy me to no end.  But she made it into my dream so I guess I may be somewhat attracted to her.&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, why would I dream about going on a date with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm addicted to the show Scrubs...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-3962028195895481306?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3962028195895481306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=3962028195895481306&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/3962028195895481306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/3962028195895481306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/10/elliot.html' title='Elliot'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-4579608421370909887</id><published>2007-07-18T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T21:43:07.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A woman with prosthetic limb left leg?  wrong tool surrounding her as usual?&lt;br /&gt;keeps saying"need a baby" my belly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tiny "pterodactyl" much like a Winged looking thing gave me some problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to kill that thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until later?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman with a prosthetic limb said "give me that tool to set me free"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Or you will die"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting?&lt;br /&gt;Until a follower bit the upper lip of a young poor boy.&lt;br /&gt;The upper lip&lt;br /&gt;was gone, in the middle?&lt;br /&gt;Showing just the front teeth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-4579608421370909887?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4579608421370909887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=4579608421370909887&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/4579608421370909887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/4579608421370909887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/07/woman-with-prosthetic-limb-left-leg.html' title=''/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-7653024519405368042</id><published>2007-05-21T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T19:16:42.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My hand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember exactly how I hurt my hand but I did and there was part of it on the floor?  It seemed to have just scrapped the top of my right hand, not much damage that I could see.&lt;br /&gt;No pain either.&lt;br /&gt;Until someone pointed out, that they could see directly through my hand.&lt;br /&gt;There was a gap when I looked at my hand sideways?&lt;br /&gt;The weird thing is that I could still move all of my fingers.&lt;br /&gt;So I started to put the part that came out, back in.&lt;br /&gt;But there was now dirt all over areas of the exposed flesh.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to clean it off but it was not easy.&lt;br /&gt;I had to pull back on my skin to put it back into place.&lt;br /&gt;I was holding it together hoping it would just heal back to normal.&lt;br /&gt;People were insisting I should go to see a doctor but I refused...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-7653024519405368042?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/7653024519405368042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=7653024519405368042&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/7653024519405368042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/7653024519405368042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-hand-i-cant-remember-exactly-how-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-6772493326218976628</id><published>2007-04-10T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T22:09:08.969-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weird'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: webdings;"&gt;(Not Pauly's)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;First dream to be on my blog, that isn't one of my dreams?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Whenn's  Dream...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I dreamt that I was coming out of church with another person, who's face I can't seem to recall.&lt;br /&gt;I kept on telling this person, that we need to walk up the path to go fetch my daughter. The other person kept on telling me that I don't have a daughter. But, I kept on insisting, and we walked up a path lined by berry bushes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the dream, I didn't look like I look now. I seem older, late thirties?&lt;br /&gt;My hair is Auburn, not Black, and all the way down to my Elbow.&lt;br /&gt;So we turn a corner on the path, and there stands the most beautiful little girl I have seen in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;She's got golden blond hair, very long and curly, with the deepest blue eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just about to reach out to her and pick her up...&lt;br /&gt;That's when I woke up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://opinionminions.blogspot.com/"&gt;Thanks Whenn&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-6772493326218976628?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6772493326218976628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=6772493326218976628&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6772493326218976628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6772493326218976628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/04/whenns-dream.html' title=''/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-8445946511667047992</id><published>2007-04-03T16:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T16:55:45.082-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Old friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Three friends from my childhood.  Brothers within a year of each other.  When I saw them in my dream it was about fifteen years later.  But they were exactly the same.  Height and all.  I was thinking as I was shaking their hands that I felt bad for them because they never grew up?  Amazing how my mind remembered them just as they were.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-8445946511667047992?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8445946511667047992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=8445946511667047992&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/8445946511667047992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/8445946511667047992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/04/old-friends-three-friends-from-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-6732968324195295343</id><published>2007-03-25T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T19:31:38.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This dream started where I was driving around?  Then I stopped.   I was at a small yellow house but I used the neighbors bathroom almost right next to the yellow house.  An older gentleman let me in.  When I came out of the neighbors house a girl named Sara welcomed me into her house.  She led me into the Yellow house.  It was a lot larger inside.  I ended up going through a maze.  With staircases I could see through, going up or down.  And there was different passageways but I knew I wasn't supposed to be down there.  By now the girl named Sara is gone and I ventured in alone.  I somehow made it out.  And the house was even smaller looking outside than before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-6732968324195295343?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/6732968324195295343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=6732968324195295343&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6732968324195295343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/6732968324195295343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/03/this-dream-started-where-i-was-driving.html' title=''/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-881884273216299217</id><published>2007-03-14T14:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T15:22:36.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm walking down a street, but the difference is it's like an off ramp but flat above the other streets.  It was one lane and there was stone walls to the left and to the right.  They were higher than usual?  Just over my height so I couldn't see over them except for the sky.  I somehow knew it was a bad area though. By all the trash and graffiti.  But it was a shortcut.&lt;br /&gt;No cars used this street in years probably.  Or so it appeared.&lt;br /&gt;I looked behind me but I couldn't see past the curve and ahead the same way about a hundred yards there was another curve.  I look behind me again to see one guy walking behind me.  Instantly I was suspicious.  Then there were three suspicious men walking together.  They were gaining on me.&lt;br /&gt;Then I noticed all three had weapons.  At first I walked normal but once I thought they may have bad intent I started to run.  As I looked back running they also were running after me.  Suddenly they were within feet of me as I pleaded with them to stop. That it wasn't worth it while still running.&lt;br /&gt;They said nothing???&lt;br /&gt;One had a bat, the other two a knife and brass knuckles.&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought they would get me they stopped.&lt;br /&gt;Standing, and staring at me.&lt;br /&gt;I also stopped and two of them started walking back the other way.  The one that was left walked up to me without a word gave me the bat he was holding and slowly started walking behind the others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I convinced them not to rob and kill me.&lt;br /&gt;I woke up relieved to say the least!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-881884273216299217?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/881884273216299217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=881884273216299217&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/881884273216299217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/881884273216299217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/03/im-walking-down-street-but-difference.html' title=''/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-4302472614249836301</id><published>2007-03-02T17:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T17:26:18.484-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pyramid</title><content type='html'>I had a dream years ago, where I was searching for a pyramid.  When I did finally find it, I knew I had to climb my way to the top.  It was taller than any other pyramid.&lt;br /&gt;So about three quarters of the way up I looked down.  I of course being afraid of heights got that weird feeling of dizziness and blood pumping so my insides felt almost lifted.  I calmed down by looking straight at the step I was on.  When I calmed down I knew there was no turning back now.  I just had to make it to the top.  So I continued on.&lt;br /&gt;Once closer to the top, it got more difficult because I could see the horizon and could tell by that, exactly how high I was actually up.&lt;br /&gt;I got to the top and it was a square flat top about the size of a small room.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing was there?  I was still crouched because I couldn't stand up, being so afraid of heights and besides, there was nothing to hold on to.&lt;br /&gt;All I could remember thinking was "now I have to make it back down!"&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I started to make my descent, I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-4302472614249836301?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/4302472614249836301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=4302472614249836301&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/4302472614249836301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/4302472614249836301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/03/pyramid.html' title='The Pyramid'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-8761288973281134803</id><published>2007-02-11T17:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T17:40:47.917-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fighting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weird'/><title type='text'>The killer</title><content type='html'>I remember only part of this dream.  The ending.&lt;br /&gt;My dad and I are on a bridge somewhere and for some reason a guy is after us.  He's a big guy, with a long goatee with some gray in it and long nasty hair.  I see that he caught up with my dad and they were fighting so I go over to attack the guy.  Right before I get to him he knocked down my dad and picked up an ax.  As soon as I get there he swings at a downward motion chopping into my right shoulder.  As I scream in pain my dad got back up and was fighting with the huge guy again.  Somehow I pulled the ax out of my shoulder and approached the two.  Just at the right moment, my dad was clear of him and I jumped in the air at the big nasty guy.  With the ax in my left hand I chop him in the top of his skull.  He went down to his knees as his eyes went crossed and fell over.  We both sighed in relief and the dream was over.&lt;br /&gt;Pretty weird and very vivid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-8761288973281134803?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/8761288973281134803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=8761288973281134803&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/8761288973281134803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/8761288973281134803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/02/killer.html' title='The killer'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-1821110123429438780</id><published>2007-01-30T15:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T18:22:09.489-08:00</updated><title type='text'>War Dreams</title><content type='html'>I'm trapped in my house.  Windows boarded, doors barricaded and the Nazi's are outside trying to get in.  The weird thing is that I've got a BB gun, that I'm sniping guys off with.  Which was working in this dream.&lt;br /&gt; A lot of my family and friends are inside with me.  So I'm scared for my life and theirs.  Somehow I end up sniping all the enemy that are around the house and we form alliances, to defend ourselves from the enemy.  &lt;br /&gt;There's a tree line where we set up and it's nighttime all of the sudden, where a field stretches and somehow we know they are coming from that direction.  Now instead of a BB gun, I have a hand gun at my waist, and a machine gun someone gave me.&lt;br /&gt;The moon shined down to give some light.&lt;br /&gt;Finally the enemy approached although they don't look German at all now?  They look like everyday ordinary people, except that they want to kill us. Running at us with intent to kill, that there was no doubt.&lt;br /&gt;At first we're doing well.  Except now we are too scattered, people ran ahead while I held my position.  I'm killing the enemy left and right as they run at me defending myself.  When suddenly I shot someone I knew.  They were retreating from the enemy.&lt;br /&gt;My heart sank.&lt;br /&gt;I had killed one of my best friends...&lt;br /&gt;We ended up winning not too long after, but the loss of a friend was still traumatic even in my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Above is the most recent recollection of this dream.&lt;br /&gt;This particular dream is a recurring dream.&lt;br /&gt; So It sometimes varies but there are very similar circumstances every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-1821110123429438780?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/1821110123429438780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=1821110123429438780&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/1821110123429438780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/1821110123429438780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/01/war-dreams.html' title='War Dreams'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5944299741026461023.post-3373416429712576076</id><published>2007-01-29T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T18:28:37.322-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><title type='text'>Everyone Has Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;All I want to do is dream...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5944299741026461023-3373416429712576076?l=paulysdreams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/feeds/3373416429712576076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5944299741026461023&amp;postID=3373416429712576076&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/3373416429712576076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5944299741026461023/posts/default/3373416429712576076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paulysdreams.blogspot.com/2007/01/everyone-has-dreams.html' title='Everyone Has Dreams'/><author><name>Paulix Clos</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/107800733658434050191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-c_ElzD_iBI8/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAJZw/D8Alny7W6BE/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
