<?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-19350435</id><updated>2011-07-30T16:41:37.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tumbleweed daydreams</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>twh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04720288345378322271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ub97Ah75fo8/SnorNKNNGFI/AAAAAAAAAA4/R3nAqkue1Qo/S220/tattoo.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19350435.post-7859086722224653086</id><published>2010-06-10T04:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T04:15:06.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>where has all the time gone?</title><content type='html'>i have no idea what the future will bring as far as male company.  i have to say that i no longer really care.  i no longer weep like a child for the past when i think what could have been in any of my relationships.  for me, that's a turning point, a breath of fresh air, a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, i just have to learn to create a defense against bette midler and her heartbreak songs :).....especially, this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object style="background-image:url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/Oc1oznH5bNE/hqdefault.jpg)"  width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Oc1oznH5bNE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Oc1oznH5bNE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19350435-7859086722224653086?l=tumbleme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/feeds/7859086722224653086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19350435&amp;postID=7859086722224653086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/7859086722224653086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/7859086722224653086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/2010/06/where-has-all-time-gone.html' title='where has all the time gone?'/><author><name>twh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04720288345378322271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ub97Ah75fo8/SnorNKNNGFI/AAAAAAAAAA4/R3nAqkue1Qo/S220/tattoo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19350435.post-2842251546768453594</id><published>2009-08-05T18:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T18:24:24.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dreaming with a broken heart</title><content type='html'>there were many nights when i was young that i would have dreams with a particular man in them.  i never knew who he was.  i had never met him in my waking life yet, he was always there guiding me through the maze of my dreams like a guardian angel showing me the way through life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he became a constant companion, always there, silent.  his presence was comforting in a world i had no control in.  before i knew the ways of men he was there to blanket me with hope; to remind me that i wouldn't be alone.  now that i am alone and have been for such a long time, i wish he would return.  i would hate to think that at my age i no longer need him.  or maybe it's because i should have replaced him with someone made of flesh and blood long ago instead of seeking comfort from a whisp of smoke in a dream.&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19350435-2842251546768453594?l=tumbleme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/feeds/2842251546768453594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19350435&amp;postID=2842251546768453594' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/2842251546768453594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/2842251546768453594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/2009/08/dreaming-with-broken-heart.html' title='dreaming with a broken heart'/><author><name>twh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04720288345378322271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ub97Ah75fo8/SnorNKNNGFI/AAAAAAAAAA4/R3nAqkue1Qo/S220/tattoo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19350435.post-115557065738694623</id><published>2006-08-14T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-17T16:36:06.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>this desert is never ending</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;the only mirage shimmering in this wasteland is a myopically bitter man with a cynic's hidden heart. i don't know how or why he holds my fascination like he does. perhaps it's only because i have nothing else to focus on in the distance.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;i still dream of tumbleweeds. i still send my messages to you hoping someday you'll realize it was i who sent them. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19350435-115557065738694623?l=tumbleme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/feeds/115557065738694623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19350435&amp;postID=115557065738694623' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/115557065738694623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/115557065738694623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/2006/08/this-desert-is-never-ending.html' title='this desert is never ending'/><author><name>twh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04720288345378322271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ub97Ah75fo8/SnorNKNNGFI/AAAAAAAAAA4/R3nAqkue1Qo/S220/tattoo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19350435.post-113890970813796527</id><published>2006-02-02T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-04T14:07:09.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>whose dream am i</title><content type='html'>i have been bouncing around the different blogs today and came across a link on a page belonging to &lt;a href="http://cruelvirgin.blogspot.com/"&gt;enemy of the republic&lt;/a&gt;.   it's all in fun and, quite frankly, not a whole lot of it is true but considering the dream i wrote about recently, this is rather frightening, especially the final remark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#eee9e9;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Seduction Style: Fantasy Lover&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#fffafa"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatkindofseducerareyouquiz/fantasy-lover.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know that ideal love that each of us dreams of from childhood? That's you!&lt;br /&gt;Not because you posess all of the ideal characteristics, but because you are a savvy shape shifter.&lt;br /&gt;You have the uncanny ability to detect someone's particular fantasy... and make it you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You inspire each person to be an idealist and passionate, and you make each moment memorable&lt;br /&gt;Even a simple coffee date with you can be the most romantic moment of someone's life&lt;br /&gt;By giving your date exactly what he or she desires, you quickly become the ideal lover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your abilities to make dreams come true is so strong, that you are often the love of many people's lives.&lt;br /&gt;Your ex's (and even people you have simply met or been friends with) long to be yours.&lt;br /&gt;No doubt you are the one others have dreamed of... your biggest challenge is finding *your* dream lover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatkindofseducerareyouquiz/"&gt;What Kind of Seducer Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19350435-113890970813796527?l=tumbleme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/feeds/113890970813796527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19350435&amp;postID=113890970813796527' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/113890970813796527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/113890970813796527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/2006/02/whose-dream-am-i.html' title='whose dream am i'/><author><name>twh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04720288345378322271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ub97Ah75fo8/SnorNKNNGFI/AAAAAAAAAA4/R3nAqkue1Qo/S220/tattoo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19350435.post-113848171318614757</id><published>2006-01-28T12:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T07:26:04.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the dream is different this time</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;i had a strange dream last night. one of those dreams where a man from your past or some familiar composite asks you to make up your mind and then disappears like a whisp of smoke seconds later because you took too long to make your decision. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but last night was very different. andy ( who i mentioned in the other blog in the chapter, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://thatwomanhere.blogspot.com/2005/09/ghosts-and-manifestations.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;ghosts and manifestations&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;) approaches me about going to a play in a remote theatre in the woods somewhere. he hands me a map showing the various theatres and asks me to make a decision. i stand there looking at him, wanting to ask all the questions that are screaming in my head such as, why are you here? why after all this time? why me? just why?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but i don't say anything. i take the map and walk away and look at it for awhile. any choice would require a trek in order to reach it, but that doesn't frighten me. of course, there are obstacles in dreams that keep you from getting back in a timely manner, and in the dream i was at work.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i am finally able to make my way back to where i left him, but it isn't andy that is waiting for me. it is a man as tall as he is, with darker hair and a light beard and mustache. he sees me approach and he has this look in his eyes as if he is afraid of what i will have to say. he stands up and comes to me and asks, "so, what have you decided?" there is no apprehension or fear in his voice as he asks me. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i can find no voice of my own to speak which he senses and puts his arm out for me to take. i can feel that this man is everything that i have ever needed and all i have to do is take his arm and go. his touch says my decision can wait, that he will wait with me until i am ready to make it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*******************&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;yes, this dream was definitely different. this one scares the hell out of me, in fact. it is full of hope that someday i might not be alone anymore. that there might be someone who would hold me and keep me warm while i wrestled with the ghost of my loneliness. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and finally, yes. i did take his arm. where this dream takes me now remains to be seen.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19350435-113848171318614757?l=tumbleme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/feeds/113848171318614757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19350435&amp;postID=113848171318614757' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/113848171318614757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/113848171318614757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/2006/01/dream-is-different-this-time.html' title='the dream is different this time'/><author><name>twh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04720288345378322271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ub97Ah75fo8/SnorNKNNGFI/AAAAAAAAAA4/R3nAqkue1Qo/S220/tattoo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19350435.post-113307918929173369</id><published>2005-11-27T02:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-27T00:23:21.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's 2 am</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;i see the wind caress the trees &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and i am jealous.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i wish i had someone to touch me so.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19350435-113307918929173369?l=tumbleme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/feeds/113307918929173369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19350435&amp;postID=113307918929173369' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/113307918929173369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/113307918929173369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/2005/11/its-2-am.html' title='it&apos;s 2 am'/><author><name>twh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04720288345378322271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ub97Ah75fo8/SnorNKNNGFI/AAAAAAAAAA4/R3nAqkue1Qo/S220/tattoo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19350435.post-113307970339504823</id><published>2005-11-27T01:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-27T00:26:42.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>tumbleweed daydreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;amias tagged me and here it is. i mentioned fiction. and here it is for the most part. i've never been able to write anything without letting something of myself get into it. you decide if it actually is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being alone does strange things to the mind. you begin to get emotional when you see couples cuddle, even the sound of them arguing is enough to bring tears to your eyes sometimes. that has, more or less, become my predicament. i have disconnected myself from pretty much anything having to so with the opposite sex or of any thought of any warm interaction with them. that said, i still find myself feeling lonely sometimes with no one to connect with even on a friendly level.lately, i find myself thinking about someone that doesn't exist, a dream man, as it were. in my mind i write notes to him and he writes back with snippets of poetry from famous poets who have said what he can't seem to express to me himself. these mental exchanges are intense and lively, but of course, i know that they will never be real. like the man himself, i can only imagine his scent rising from the heat of his skin when he is near me and it makes the loneliness so much more bittersweet.i had a job interview last week and all i could think about was what bit of love would my dream man send my way. something by cummings perhaps, or neruda. or maybe he would be in a flowery mood and send a sonnet from shakespeare. like a kid caught daydreaming in school, i answered the questions from the interviewer after only hearing the last few words. i must have done something right, they called me friday night to offer me the job.so now, i am back to writing anonymous love notes to no one and posting them on bulletin boards around town. much like that story by louis l'amour of the woman who wrote down the poetry of her loneliness, tied it to a tumbleweed and let the wind carry it away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ever since i wrote that something has been nagging me. i have this urge to start putting down the poetry of my loneliness and share it. actually, my orginal thought was to put it in an anonymous classified ad in the local paper. that is still an option. but, for now, i will leave it here, for you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19350435-113307970339504823?l=tumbleme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/feeds/113307970339504823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19350435&amp;postID=113307970339504823' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/113307970339504823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19350435/posts/default/113307970339504823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tumbleme.blogspot.com/2005/11/tumbleweed-daydreams.html' title='tumbleweed daydreams'/><author><name>twh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04720288345378322271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ub97Ah75fo8/SnorNKNNGFI/AAAAAAAAAA4/R3nAqkue1Qo/S220/tattoo.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
