<?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-880860422463250606</id><updated>2011-12-19T14:55:21.830-07:00</updated><category term='barbara'/><category term='the white house'/><category term='hobo'/><category term='queen latifah'/><category term='motorcycle'/><category term='the president'/><category term='harrison ford'/><title type='text'>the Dream Blog</title><subtitle type='html'>"It is on the whole probably that we continually dream, but that consciousness makes such a noise that we do not hear it."

Carl Jung</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://my44dream.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880860422463250606/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://my44dream.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Garit D Heaton</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OBP-_3EOjBg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHBY/d47LZVw798c/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880860422463250606.post-5744108858928686178</id><published>2010-08-02T21:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T21:41:41.013-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motorcycle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hobo'/><title type='text'>motorcycle dream</title><content type='html'>dream begins looking at a weird black building located in the middle of a large freeway junction. &amp;nbsp;i meet with an unknown person. &amp;nbsp;i agree to do some sort of job. &amp;nbsp;he gives me and undisclosed item and we part ways. &amp;nbsp;i walk outside and hop on a sweet black motorcycle and speed away. &amp;nbsp;the freeway off and on ramps are skinny and confusing. &amp;nbsp;there are no signs. &amp;nbsp;i end up circling the building several times before i finally take the right one. &amp;nbsp;soon after i find the right ramp, a hobo on the side of the road starts chasing me on foot. he keeps saying insane things at me and is somehow keeping up with my bike. &amp;nbsp;i finally get away. &amp;nbsp;the dream ends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880860422463250606-5744108858928686178?l=my44dream.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://my44dream.blogspot.com/feeds/5744108858928686178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://my44dream.blogspot.com/2010/08/motorcycle-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880860422463250606/posts/default/5744108858928686178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880860422463250606/posts/default/5744108858928686178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://my44dream.blogspot.com/2010/08/motorcycle-dream.html' title='motorcycle dream'/><author><name>Garit D Heaton</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OBP-_3EOjBg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHBY/d47LZVw798c/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880860422463250606.post-1344968150215184942</id><published>2010-03-13T02:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T02:49:35.657-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the president'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the white house'/><title type='text'>a visit to the white house</title><content type='html'>sadly this dream was not as detailed as the last one. &amp;nbsp;this dream involved me walking up to the white house wearing normal clothes but i had with me a staff of some kind. &amp;nbsp;about shoulder high and made out of a dull grayish very light weight metal. &amp;nbsp;it was perfectly straight and round. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im walking through the grounds and come to a guarded door. &amp;nbsp;they are obviously tense and unhappy with me. &amp;nbsp;i am very calm and tell them i want to talk with the president. &amp;nbsp;they become agitated and make sure i know the guns pointed at my face are loaded and cocked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i simply sigh and tell them they had better just get it over with and shoot me. &amp;nbsp;they look at each other and hesitate for a moment. &amp;nbsp;then i make a sudden step towards the nearest of the two and they open fire. &amp;nbsp;there is instantly a&amp;nbsp;visible&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;luminescent&amp;nbsp;shield that appears around me. &amp;nbsp;all of the bullets seem to fizzle into a bit of smoke on contact with the barrier around me. &amp;nbsp;my staff of metal now matching the luminescence and color of the shield. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bullets stop and the smoke clears, they are dumbfounded and i give them an unenthusiastic smile. &amp;nbsp;i&amp;nbsp;assure&amp;nbsp;them that there is nothing they can do to remove me from the grounds and that they had better go inform their&amp;nbsp;superiors&amp;nbsp;to be&amp;nbsp;prepared&amp;nbsp;for my entry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one of them departs into the doorway while the other starts yammering on his walkie talkie. &amp;nbsp;with in seconds im surrounded by unfriendly faces with unpleasant looking weapons pointed in my direction. &amp;nbsp;i simile again but&amp;nbsp;genuinely&amp;nbsp;this time. &amp;nbsp;"another demonstration perhaps?" and i begin to let my staff glow. &amp;nbsp;everyone gets nervous. &amp;nbsp;"the first one to pull a trigger will most likely wish they... " before i finish there is a barrage of bullets&amp;nbsp;hurling&amp;nbsp;themselves into my shield. &amp;nbsp;i let it continue for a moment before cocking my head to the side slightly, igniting their weapons into red hot scrap metal. &amp;nbsp;more than a few decided not to let go of their guns fast enough and as a result, now had angry looking burns. &amp;nbsp;"right, so can we move on now gentlemen?" i say with raised eyebrows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next scene takes place in a slightly dimmed room with a long table in the center. &amp;nbsp;seated around it are a dozen men that look as though ive just spit in their coffee. &amp;nbsp;there is a hostile silence. &amp;nbsp;the first to speak up was a&amp;nbsp;indistinguishable&amp;nbsp;man in a blue suit "what is your name and why have you come?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"my name is not important and ive come to have a chat with who ever is in charge here. &amp;nbsp;i assume that would be the president and some of the people in this room?" &amp;nbsp;they didnt seem to like that answer very much. &amp;nbsp;many started asking, shouting and demanding all at once. &amp;nbsp;suddenly and with what looked like great strength i threw my staff at the center of the table. &amp;nbsp;before it made contact though it had turned into a vicious looking and immensely&amp;nbsp;large sword. &amp;nbsp;it made a loud noise at it stuck into the table. it surprised everyone back into silence. &amp;nbsp;the sword was completely white and glowing and everyone in the room stared openly at it. &amp;nbsp;for a moment they seemed stunned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"im afraid things are going to change here&amp;nbsp;gentlemen&amp;nbsp;weather you like it or not. &amp;nbsp;the sooner you all get used to the idea the better." &amp;nbsp;it was obvious no one liked that comment either. &amp;nbsp;they all stood up at once, taking a step away from the unnatural glowing sword but soon began again to demanding answers. &amp;nbsp;in an instant i was frustrated, impatient and angry. &amp;nbsp;the sword flew out of the table, turned back into a staff while in mid air and found its way back into my hand. &amp;nbsp;with a continued almost fluid motion, i spun and positioned my self to strike the underside of the table. &amp;nbsp;on contact it burst into a&amp;nbsp;host&amp;nbsp;splinters making a&amp;nbsp;deafening&amp;nbsp;noise. &amp;nbsp;"Enough!" i bellowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the final scene was from inside the oval office. &amp;nbsp;the president, along with a small handful of others were present. &amp;nbsp;the room was tense but tempers were controlled. &amp;nbsp;"i came to make friends mr.president, not to pick fights and&amp;nbsp;bust up&amp;nbsp;your&amp;nbsp;furniture. &amp;nbsp;are you my friend or are you my enemy?" &amp;nbsp;i said calmly. &amp;nbsp;the president rubbed his eyes for a moment. &amp;nbsp;"if what you say is true,.. than i am your friend." he said. &amp;nbsp;"well im glad to hear that" i said, with a small smile. &amp;nbsp;everyone seemed to breath a bit easier then. &amp;nbsp;"what is it you want exactly?" a gray haired man in a black suit, standing against the wall asked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i have a task to perform and a work to accomplish." i said firmly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i see.." the president said raising an eyebrow. &amp;nbsp;"you still havent told us your name."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"as i said, its not important, but you can call me friend, or master." i said with my mind wondering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"master?" he almost choked, trying to decide if he should let out a laugh. &amp;nbsp;"why master?" he asked grinning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looking him full in the face, but without emotion i respond.&lt;br /&gt;"because i have mastered a power you can not begin to understand."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------&lt;br /&gt;and then i wake up, to a txt message and an uncomfortable bladder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880860422463250606-1344968150215184942?l=my44dream.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://my44dream.blogspot.com/feeds/1344968150215184942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://my44dream.blogspot.com/2010/03/visit-to-white-house.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880860422463250606/posts/default/1344968150215184942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880860422463250606/posts/default/1344968150215184942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://my44dream.blogspot.com/2010/03/visit-to-white-house.html' title='a visit to the white house'/><author><name>Garit D Heaton</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OBP-_3EOjBg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHBY/d47LZVw798c/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880860422463250606.post-7179694793730250530</id><published>2010-03-10T13:27:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T16:01:35.050-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='queen latifah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='harrison ford'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='barbara'/><title type='text'>the jail dream</title><content type='html'>it begins while im being wrongfully incarcerated.&amp;nbsp; i never learn the reason exactly but somehow my ex-wife was able to get me thrown in jail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as part of the check in process i had to see a woman that would assign me a job and responsibilities for while i was to be kept in prison.&amp;nbsp; she was, surprisingly, the exact image of queen latifah, and very cruel.&amp;nbsp; while she was deciding what to do with me, she had me beaten and dragged through some foul smelling dirt.&amp;nbsp; after that she had some guards stand me up and then she dismissed them.&amp;nbsp; when we were alone she turned into barbara.&amp;nbsp; i was suddenly very glad to see her.&amp;nbsp; barbara was then very kind to me.&amp;nbsp; we kissed and embraced.&amp;nbsp; then she swore out loud and assigned me a job working in the womans tea shop (apparently this jail has a tea shop for women lol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soon after barbara shape shifted back into queen latifah, then called some guards over to drag me to my cell.&amp;nbsp; it was a typical solitary confinement type room, like something you might see in movies.&amp;nbsp; no place to sit and no light.&amp;nbsp; the door looked more like it belonged to a bank vault. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was not in there long before someone opened the door.&amp;nbsp; it turned about to be a long time friend of mine.&amp;nbsp; (it wasnt anyone i knew in real life and his name wasnt familiar but i felt like we had been life long friends)&amp;nbsp; anyway he hands me a weird looking pair of goggles with a built in snorkel and says "c'mon i need your help".&amp;nbsp; i went with him harboring only a dull curiosity.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we sneak out of the main compound and somehow find ourselves in a deserted area with a bunch of old warehouse looking buildings.&amp;nbsp; we broke into one of these and went down into a lower level.&amp;nbsp; it was completely underwater.&amp;nbsp; in the middle of the room there was a large safe.&amp;nbsp; my friend somehow got it open and we saw that in the bottom of the safe were a bunch of old books with bright colored bindings.&amp;nbsp; strangely they seemed to be perfectly preserved in the water.&amp;nbsp; we searched through them for a while until he found the one he was looking for.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at this point i remember being slightly concerned at the fact that i had been underwater for more than a half hour and was able to breathe somewhat easily through my nose which was covered by the weird goggles.&amp;nbsp; i knew the snorkel was also underwater but i decided to dismiss the impossibility and think about it later.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the book that he found seemed to contain a sleeve holding a number cd's as well as many pages of writing.&amp;nbsp; he took it out and closed the safe and we swam to the surface.&amp;nbsp; he was very excited to finally find out what information the book contained.&amp;nbsp; we stashed our gear in a barrel and went back to the compound.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we made our way into a large open room and changed into dry clothes.&amp;nbsp; my friend began to look through the book again while i dried my hair on a white lab coat.&amp;nbsp; a minute later the door opened at the opposite end of the room and two men entered.&amp;nbsp; my friend didnt even look up from his book.&amp;nbsp; he was facing away from them and couldnt be bothered.&amp;nbsp; i was concerned.&amp;nbsp; they appeared to be doctors of some kind.&amp;nbsp; i got a good look at one of their faces and it was clearly a very young and determined looking harrison ford.&amp;nbsp; the other guy lead him over to a drawer and pulled out a folder full of documents and an interesting looking gun.&amp;nbsp; he set them on a counter and then walked out of the room.&amp;nbsp; (the gun i recognized easily as the gun from the movie blade runner.)&amp;nbsp; harrison ford picked up the gun and looked as though he was seeing an old friend.&amp;nbsp; he put the gun in his pocket and walked out of the room with a smirk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we left the room a few minutes later and sat down on the floor in the hallway right in front of my jail cell.&amp;nbsp; he was leafing through the pages of the book still.&amp;nbsp; i noticed some old looking diagrams and text but didnt make sense of anything.&amp;nbsp; as he read it he started to become more and more nervous.&amp;nbsp; soon i started to be very worried about a girl i really cared for and i knew she was somewhere nearby.&amp;nbsp; i told my friend that i was concerned about her.&amp;nbsp; he looked up and said "well she is still unconscious but she'll alright."&amp;nbsp; he was pointing to something behind me.&amp;nbsp; i looked over my shoulder and was shocked to see a girl with long blond hair hanging upside down, tied from shoulders to feet with what looked like a fire hose.&amp;nbsp; it seemed as though she were the victim of some cruel joke.&amp;nbsp; i was sick with anger.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my friend was able to calm me down.&amp;nbsp; i was helplessly laying on the ground while he continued to pour over the book we found.&amp;nbsp; he soon became distracted and agitated.&amp;nbsp; i asked him what it was, after a moment he seemed to decide something.&amp;nbsp; he gave me the book and told me to put it back where we found it, ...and escape. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i was about to get up, another guard come walking around the corner.&amp;nbsp; when he passed by i saw on his face a look of deviousness, but it was gone in a flash.&amp;nbsp; i then knew that he heard our conversation.&amp;nbsp; i stood up and gave one last look at the upside down woman who was obviously very important to me.&amp;nbsp; when the guard was out of sight.. i ran.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880860422463250606-7179694793730250530?l=my44dream.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://my44dream.blogspot.com/feeds/7179694793730250530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://my44dream.blogspot.com/2010/03/jail-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880860422463250606/posts/default/7179694793730250530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880860422463250606/posts/default/7179694793730250530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://my44dream.blogspot.com/2010/03/jail-dream.html' title='the jail dream'/><author><name>Garit D Heaton</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OBP-_3EOjBg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHBY/d47LZVw798c/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
