<?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-3528799615861975570</id><updated>2011-11-27T19:20:44.915-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A need to express...</title><subtitle type='html'>Just a place to express anything that comes to mind.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-3241190255419484713</id><published>2010-11-30T11:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T12:09:35.127-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sifting</title><content type='html'>Sifting through  memories, i stumble across a picture. Her picture.  I stare and I am immediately there in front of her. I am speechless. She looks at me as though I have been gone. She looks at me as someone who has somehow survived a great heartbreak. A heart break which I caused. She stares in disbelief, because for once in her life she sees the love that has always been there. She sees the love my love with no fear. She runs to my arms and cries. In mouthful of cires she mumbles "why couldn't you have been this way. Why couldn't  you let yourself just love me".  Holding her in my arms I feel her tears through my shirt, and feel them burning holes in my soul. The tears keep flowing and my soul keeps dissolving. I feel my heart breaking, I see her fading. I see the tear fall on her face. On the picture. Her picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-3241190255419484713?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3241190255419484713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=3241190255419484713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/3241190255419484713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/3241190255419484713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2010/11/sifting.html' title='Sifting'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-8063861768115245215</id><published>2010-11-09T08:53:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T09:06:45.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain melts the pain.</title><content type='html'>It all began, in the car. I was driving around to find a house. I new where I was, but yet I still couldn't find the house that I was looking for. In my deepest part of my soul I knew where I was supposed to go. But yet my mind would not let me remember how to get there... So I veered off, and parked. Then a bright flash! At this point I am standing in a vast empty field, with a thick fog filling the vastness of the the field. The air felt warm but the the moisture of the fog gave it a slight chill. Then the rain. It was more than drops. It was like I was submerged underwater. The rain fell so hard and so fast, that it felt like I was falling. Yet the immense peace that I felt, kept me calm. The rain was the most soothing feeling I have felt in years, it was warm, and even though it fell hard, it was soft on my skin. All the pain, doubt, anxiety, all the negativity I have ever felt, melted and washed away with the rain. Then I noticed the steam coming from my hands and arms! I felt so free! I felt like I was reborn! And then my eyes open.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-8063861768115245215?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8063861768115245215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=8063861768115245215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/8063861768115245215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/8063861768115245215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2010/11/rain-melts-pain.html' title='Rain melts the pain.'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-631127256985716207</id><published>2010-09-27T11:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T11:31:20.127-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Strange to think that memories can attack you! Can bring about emotions that u thought had passed! But a smile, a long soft kiss, the deep stare of her eyes, brings u back to that moment! Then the surge of emotions hit! Not of one specific, but the culmination of time passed! The joy, the anger, the hate, the loneliness, and the love that has perished! The dam that I have carefully built is starting to give! Another storm and I fear that the flood will destroy me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-631127256985716207?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/631127256985716207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=631127256985716207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/631127256985716207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/631127256985716207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2010/09/strange.html' title='Strange'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-7268635206543576538</id><published>2010-07-15T10:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T10:25:03.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another rainy day</title><content type='html'>Who knew that a rainy day can bring so much fun! It let me reminisce about my past, and it let me know more about an interesting girl I met! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-7268635206543576538?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7268635206543576538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=7268635206543576538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/7268635206543576538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/7268635206543576538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2010/07/just-another-rainy-day.html' title='Just another rainy day'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-810960988661925997</id><published>2009-02-26T09:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T09:05:46.765-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blink, Blink</title><content type='html'>Cars honking, with their yellowish blinking lights letting the people behind them know where they are to go.  But the irony is that no one is moving.  Yet the consistent blinking reminding you that they are heading in that same direction, yet no movement. You play with the radio to try and distract yourself from the rambling ideas in your mind. One that quickly comes to mind is that one of missile launchers on your car, that can clear a nice steady path to your destination.  You grip the steering wheel as if your aiming and you hit the imaginary button, you smile for a brief second, when your dream is suddenly disrupted by the genius who thinks his horn is his launch button to his nuclear arsenal located on the back of his hummer.  Ha ha, that makes me laugh, that ginormous monstrosity sitting in the same unmoving path. But in all the commercials for the vehicle the car is unstoppable, no matter the obstacle, I guess they didn’t want to show how much fuel that tank would use up idling until it got a chance to show its fierceness… I laugh yet again, he just keeps wailing on that horn, maybe he thinks its some kind of sonic blaster… sorry guy keep trying... but keep blasting that horn I am having some fun now thinking what types of weapons you think you have on that behemoth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-810960988661925997?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/810960988661925997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=810960988661925997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/810960988661925997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/810960988661925997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/blink-blink.html' title='Blink, Blink'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-2850859344412976970</id><published>2008-11-23T10:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T10:36:30.561-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hunger...</title><content type='html'>Ok so why does it seem when you know what you want in life you can't attain it? And I'm definitely not talking materialistic. Material wealth comes and goes and brings temporary happiness, it does help in maintaing your needs to survive in this brutal world. But yet I hunger for something, something that I have had a taste of before. And that hunger is for the love of a special woman. A woman that can make you feel like your not afraid of anything, a woman that can replenish your soul, a woman that pushes you to be the man you were always destined for. And a woman that can help you overcome those fears that haven't let you give that love back. I desire to find that woman... but it seems that life isn't ready to give her to me. So I have to keep pushing myself to move forward as hard as life pushes me down I have to learn to be able to be strong enough to endure what life pushes on me, so that when I do meet the woman of my dreams, she can see that I will be the man that she can lean on, and know that I'll always be there! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so sorry the sappiness, but it is what I have rummaging through my mind!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-2850859344412976970?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2850859344412976970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=2850859344412976970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/2850859344412976970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/2850859344412976970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/11/hunger.html' title='hunger...'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-215905023429528876</id><published>2008-11-15T09:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T09:28:35.357-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nasty November</title><content type='html'>Ok so its been a minute since I last posted something... I think my mind body and soul have been at war with each other. I have started to gain some peace. The fog of despair has started to lift and now I can now see my path. Its been a painful time for me, trying to figure out who I am, especially in dealing with some fierce hardships that have befallen me. &lt;br /&gt;I have been a dormant shell of a man for a long time. People say that with death comes life, and now can I see. I have put to rest a part of me that has haunted me, that hasn't let me move on with my life. A part of me that was fearful, and full of doubt. The recent trails and tribulations of life have forced me to face my fears, face my doubts and move forward or perish in the bleak existence of this blind conformity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-215905023429528876?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/215905023429528876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=215905023429528876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/215905023429528876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/215905023429528876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/11/nasty-november.html' title='Nasty November'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-1465736214512472035</id><published>2008-03-01T11:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T09:11:13.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bleak is a just a word to describe what i feel</title><content type='html'>in the mist of the rain i find that i am drowning in the tears of my own pain...pain that could have been avoided, pain that could have been joy... pain that could have past... but yet the pain lingers, yet the pain creates a flood that sweeps my soul away... away i hope to a better place... because my soul cannot tread water any more and I feel that my soul will drown in the rivers of despair as i take my last breath and sink to the bottom of my etarnal resting place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Original Posting Monday March 28 2005&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-1465736214512472035?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1465736214512472035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=1465736214512472035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/1465736214512472035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/1465736214512472035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/03/original-posting-monday-march-28-2005.html' title='bleak is a just a word to describe what i feel'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-8327489127461859936</id><published>2008-03-01T11:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T09:09:10.189-05:00</updated><title type='text'>final destination</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;today i find that i see beyond the reach of my sight... you ask how, because my soul has found the path, the path to enlightenment, the path to knowledge, the path to eternal bliss, but the road is only big enough for one, but alas i cannot leave yet, i find that there are those that rely on me, need me. To endure the pain, is to show my love, to sacrifice my happiness is to display my affection, to see there smiles fills my heart with more love and bliss than the path... so was the path an illusion? was the destination a false pretense to what i would eventually find?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Original Posting Thursday July 21 2005&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-8327489127461859936?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8327489127461859936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=8327489127461859936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/8327489127461859936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/8327489127461859936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/03/original-posting-thursday-july-21-2005.html' title='final destination'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-7475997801646411221</id><published>2008-03-01T11:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T09:10:03.524-05:00</updated><title type='text'>vday?</title><content type='html'>I live in a diluted land of make believe and fantasy land where I think my ideas of what I want in a relationship is viable, but alas I find that the truth is that if I keep reaching for the stars and all I will find is disappointment, where in truth all I had to do is look down at the reflection in the water and that is where I could touch the stars. I seem to think that the mystery of that ideal woman is more the attraction because the ideal woman is not out in a far away place, its right here, right in front of me, but my fears and my doubts and my heart won’t let it be. I long to be sought after, to return the feeling of the other, but my soul is clouded with confusion, because with love comes pain, but with seclusion comes loneliness, but no pain. I guess the question is… is it better to have loved and have gotten hurt or to never have loved at all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Original Posting Thursday Feb. 9th 2006&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-7475997801646411221?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7475997801646411221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=7475997801646411221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/7475997801646411221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/7475997801646411221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/03/original-posting-thursday-feb-9th-2006.html' title='vday?'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-5718168295945788885</id><published>2008-03-01T11:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T11:16:15.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday morning</title><content type='html'>Ok so its Saturday morning... a bit hungover, but got lots to do, i have freelance to work on and school work... so pretty much a fun saturday morning!  but its seeems nice out so maybe go mountain biking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well hit me up anytime to talk about stuff, hopefully it will be something good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-5718168295945788885?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5718168295945788885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=5718168295945788885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/5718168295945788885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/5718168295945788885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/03/saturday-morning.html' title='Saturday morning'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528799615861975570.post-4388084720498180769</id><published>2007-05-23T08:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T08:20:48.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My first Posting</title><content type='html'>Not much to say today as this is my first post, but I ask this question.  While we sleep do we travel?  Does our unconscious state let us travel to other dimensions or visit others in a dream realm?  I ask this cause lately my dreams have been so vivid, and I find that when I wake, I more drained than I was when I fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in our unconscious state do we use more of our brain, can we tap into different powers such as telekinesis,  or precognition? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all I have for today...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3528799615861975570-4388084720498180769?l=oacthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4388084720498180769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3528799615861975570&amp;postID=4388084720498180769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/4388084720498180769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3528799615861975570/posts/default/4388084720498180769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-first-posting.html' title='My first Posting'/><author><name>Oscar Castaneda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03616276104807669767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_FM0B_XTl6-k/R8mAaP7tHhI/AAAAAAAAAuE/d64ny7rp4pc/S220/DSCN0050.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
