<?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-1755196931342035262</id><updated>2012-02-16T04:10:14.912-08:00</updated><category term='Blog Update'/><category term='Videos'/><category term='Vampires'/><category term='Romance'/><category term='Stories'/><category term='Motivation'/><category term='Serene'/><category term='Inspire'/><category term='Users'/><category term='Tips'/><category term='Fiction'/><category term='Ideas'/><category term='Programs'/><category term='Dreams'/><category term='Moral'/><category term='Native Passion'/><category term='Books'/><title type='text'>Paper Visions</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-5950033437475499530</id><published>2009-12-01T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T21:04:13.695-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><title type='text'>Two Stories</title><content type='html'>I just posted two stories that I wrote in my Fictional Writing class. They are located in the projects link to the left.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They're called: &lt;b&gt;Living With Joy&lt;/b&gt; and &lt;b&gt;The Idea&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-5950033437475499530?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/5950033437475499530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/12/two-stories.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/5950033437475499530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/5950033437475499530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/12/two-stories.html' title='Two Stories'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-2399732728401933170</id><published>2009-12-01T20:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T07:19:32.556-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Videos'/><title type='text'>Novel Writing Made Easy</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5LxqmHQFyR8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5LxqmHQFyR8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/1755196931342035262-2399732728401933170?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/2399732728401933170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/12/novel-writing-made-easy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/2399732728401933170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/2399732728401933170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/12/novel-writing-made-easy.html' title='Novel Writing Made Easy'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-1931416106618865370</id><published>2009-08-10T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T13:12:10.700-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Programs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tips'/><title type='text'>OneNote - Organizing Magician</title><content type='html'>Today, I just discovered that I had OneNote installed on my computer. OneNote is an extremely simple and helpful organization program. The program is divided into Notebooks. Each notebook is divided into tabbed sections, and each of the sections are divided into as many pages as you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very Useful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the pages you can write anywhere. You can write anything. This includes tables, lists, even post pictures. One handy feature that I enjoy is the fact that you can take a screenshot of any portion of your screen and paste it on the page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just used that feature after creating a Notebook for my upcoming Fall Semester on Campus. On my schools class website I grabbed a screenie of my schedule and pasted it on the first page of the notebook. The next tab was a to do list (remember any number of pages in each tab). And each of the following tabs were for a specific class. I plan on using this program and seeing just how it works in application, since in theory it sounds wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also made a notebook for one of my writing projects. I haven't really organized it throughly yet except for a few tabs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-1931416106618865370?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/1931416106618865370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/08/onenote-organizing-magician.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/1931416106618865370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/1931416106618865370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/08/onenote-organizing-magician.html' title='OneNote - Organizing Magician'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-9211713396639246263</id><published>2009-08-03T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:49:21.990-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><title type='text'>Zombies Attack!</title><content type='html'>About a week ago I had another dream that stuck out to me. I'm just posting about it now mainly because I was scared. It was a bit of a nightmare. I don't take lightly to scary stuff and everytime I thought about it it creeped me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways heres the dream or at least the gist of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There were these creatures with vivid red eyes that were able to kill humans by spewing out green poisonous gas. At first they were robotic-type, even though in my dream they were still "alive." But now they were masking themselves as humans and we weren't able to tell them apart (this part reminds me of the recent Terminator movie).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I was with a huge group of people I knew from when I was younger and such and we were hiding out in an abandoned apartment building. One of them came in and everyone freaked out. I was the only one with a sort of level head and I managed to kill it (by snapping its neck).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Even though I was able to do this and I did know how to handle these things, no one would listen to me. So they all ran and left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;On a higher floor I met with a couple that had a young male child. I kept trying to get them the come, but they were to occupied with trying to gather their material possesions. Even after another monster arrived and I had to kill it they still wouldn't follow me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So I just grabbed the boy and ran for it, I would at least save him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We escaped on a scaffolding, but I waited giving them one last chance. I counted down then began descending the outside of the building with the boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;At the bottom (and apparently a bit later), I met up with a group that was leading a revolution against the creatures they had trucks, vans, and even weapons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thats when another creature appeared. I dispatched of it by tearing it limb from limb. The group's leader (who looked like a sea captain) was in shock. They didn't know how to kill the creatures except by shooting them up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So he offered to let me and the boy go to their compound. In the truck were the boys parents they were saved from a bunch of the creatures by the group.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We all traveled to the compound and it was a busy place where people were scavenging nearby buildings from food and others were being trained with the weaponry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Once in the walls, the sun began to set, and I saw my friends outside running from a few of the creatures. The captain didn't want to let them in so I went out and began fighting off the creatures. After the battle, I forced the captain to let them in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats when I woke up. I believe that this dream has potential. Too bad I just scared myself a bit writing this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-9211713396639246263?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/9211713396639246263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/08/about-week-ago-i-had-another-dream-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/9211713396639246263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/9211713396639246263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/08/about-week-ago-i-had-another-dream-that.html' title='Zombies Attack!'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-5383594563145912603</id><published>2009-07-22T22:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T22:07:54.758-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog Update'/><title type='text'>Layout Change</title><content type='html'>As you can see I changed my blog's layout. I think this one is more conducive to what I'm trying to accomplish with this blog. I'm able to use static pages, its simple, and has plenty of room for writing, which of course is the focal point of a blog about writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-5383594563145912603?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/5383594563145912603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/layout-change.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/5383594563145912603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/5383594563145912603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/layout-change.html' title='Layout Change'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-4569422447696170180</id><published>2009-07-21T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T13:17:28.619-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Users'/><title type='text'>Users: Corruption</title><content type='html'>I've finally decided on a title for my most recent project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Users: Corruption&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I really wanted to give it a series type title and the word corrupt and all its synonyms stuck with me. I like the title, but I'm still not 100% on it, so don't be surprised if it changes again.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-4569422447696170180?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/4569422447696170180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/users-corruption.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/4569422447696170180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/4569422447696170180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/users-corruption.html' title='Users: Corruption'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-1654910656354323463</id><published>2009-07-17T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:49:38.923-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fiction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Users'/><title type='text'>Story Naming - Cliff Dream</title><content type='html'>I'm having a really hard time coming up with a name for my story. I have been working on it a lot, and by now I feel like I should have a good name for it. For me, a good title is everything. Its a good motivation for me to keep writing, because if I were to have a good title then I would simply &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; to keep writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the titles that I've narrowed it down to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stained&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Corrupted/Corruption&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tainted&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Badland/s&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wasteland&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Hopefully I will have made my decision soon. I hate having stupidly named folders like "cliff dream" or "user story." Having a title will do me some serious good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-1654910656354323463?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/1654910656354323463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/story-naming-cliff-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/1654910656354323463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/1654910656354323463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/story-naming-cliff-dream.html' title='Story Naming - Cliff Dream'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-2204942806729873761</id><published>2009-07-15T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T11:21:52.663-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Motivation'/><title type='text'>Why Aren't You Writing?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Sinclair Lewis was invited to talk to some students about the writer’s craft. He stood at the head of the class and asked, “How many of you here are really serious about being writers?” A sea of hands shot up. Lewis then asked, “Well, why aren't you all home writing?” And with that he walked out of the room.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought this was interesting, and very motivating. I got this quote from the site "&lt;a href="http://www.peacecorpswriters.org/pages/depts/resources/resour_writers/100daysbook/bk100da.html"&gt;How to write a novel in 100 days or less.&lt;/a&gt;" Its a site you should check out. Its like a motivational calendar that you can read everyday or just read them all one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-2204942806729873761?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/2204942806729873761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/why-arent-you-writing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/2204942806729873761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/2204942806729873761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/why-arent-you-writing.html' title='Why Aren&apos;t You Writing?'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-4241715651132867958</id><published>2009-07-11T15:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T12:51:38.270-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fiction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Users'/><title type='text'>Cliff Dream - Update</title><content type='html'>I've been working pretty hard on my story. The ideas are really coming, and I can see a really good story forming. I think this is mainly because I actually haven't written anything since that first post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm focusing more on the process. I'm getting all of my thoughts together and planning ahead. But I'm doing the planning in a way that I can easily go back and change it. Nothings for sure, but its always good to have a plan in place. I got the idea from a novel writing method called the "Snowflake Method." In this method you start out small with something simple as a one-sentence summary of your story, and you build upon this. Its good to way to see how your story is taking shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay Tuned!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-4241715651132867958?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/4241715651132867958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/cliff-dream-update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/4241715651132867958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/4241715651132867958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/cliff-dream-update.html' title='Cliff Dream - Update'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-822554906479013856</id><published>2009-07-01T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:51:38.149-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fiction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Users'/><title type='text'>Cliff Dream - Revisited</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Its July 1 and I'm finally posting another writing excerpt. I haven't written in so long, but these ideas inside of me are begging to be unleashed onto the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Today's excerpt is from a particular dream that I had recently. I posted the dream and how it stuck with me. The dream really had a story to be told. So here is my attempt at telling it. Its only 750 words this time, but I do hope you enjoy it, because I feel like this does the dream some justice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The setting sun gave an almost magical feel to the world. Dropping below the horizon, the sun set ablaze streaks of purple and red that lit up the evening sky. A few clouds took in these streaks and resonated with a rich hue. Already a few stars dotted the heavens, their light telling of faraway places completely unknown. For a brief moment, this almost hypnotic sight gave the world back something it was losing fast, life. A feeling of hope washed over me, but it was fleeting, for as quickly as I allowed myself to be affected by the scene in front of me, my mind had pushed those feelings away. The dread had returned and settled back into its place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A wind started up from behind me and sent my black strands floating in the breeze. I fingered my hair back behind my ears and set my arm back at my side. Fingers, not belonging to me, intertwined with mine and gave a reassuring squeeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My companion and I stood atop a barren cliff overlooking a vast wasteland. Sand and rocks took up much of the landscape. A few trees dotted the land were barren of all leaves and struggled to survive in this unforgiving place; and they were not the only ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I closed my eyes, squeezed my hand tighter around my companion’s hand, and let the wind run through me. I could feel its magic working quickly. The wind flowed through my hair swirling the strands around, it blew through my pure white habit cooling the heat thrust upon me by the setting sun. It blew through me from the east, towards the setting ball of fire. It blew there, but I didn’t want it there. I wanted it around my companion and I; I wanted its strength, its power, and its life to fill all those places that the dread had settled. The wind obliged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A rush of air swirled around us. The wind, all too gladly, gave me what I wanted. The strength of the wind lifted my spirits. Its life fought the dread inside of me, letting in the hope. My eyes still closed, I allowed a smirk to creep onto my lips. This action a rarity on my part brought a sudden burst of laughter from somewhere. I quickly opened my eyes looking for the source, and the wind dropped, it continued on its original path toward the setting sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My companion was laughing. The sound rang in my ears and brought sudden memories of days gone by. I shook my head, not allowing those thoughts to fill the corners of my mind, and my grin disappeared; the laughter stopped along with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stared at each other, into the other’s eyes. Both of us knowing what was to come, and knowing that this sense of foreboding was all too accurate. The time had come for us to leave this fantasy land atop the cliff and make our return back to the world that needed us. My hand was turned loose, and a streak of black flew by me disappearing over the edge of the cliff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I allowed myself one last look at the scene before, engraving the image onto my mind, engraving the contrast of death and life that shone from it. I wouldn’t allow myself to forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made those few steps to the edge of the cliff and turned around. I let myself fall back with my arms hanging loose into the open air. I looked up at the sky as I descended to the earth not bothering to call the wind to my assistance. As I got closer to the earth a sudden gust of wind, shot up below me slowing my fall, and I landed lightly in my companions arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My companion, my husband, smiled down at me, his smile a more common sight than mine. He shook his head in disapproval at my actions, me not calling on the wind to break my own fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What if I wasn’t paying attention?” He said to me, setting me down on my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You always are.” I replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked over to our truck, a purple four-door pickup provided to us by the residents of a small village we had recently visited, and got in. My husband started up the engine and turned us back around onto the main road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued our journey north, with the sun setting to the west, and our fantasy land left behind us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-822554906479013856?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/822554906479013856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/cliff-dream-revisited.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/822554906479013856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/822554906479013856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/07/cliff-dream-revisited.html' title='Cliff Dream - Revisited'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-6093633118732696965</id><published>2009-06-15T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:50:15.636-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog Update'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Motivation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fiction'/><title type='text'>Neglecting My Writing</title><content type='html'>I have been neglecting this blog mainly because I haven't been writing anything to post. It takes a lot to get me to start, because I see it as work, with all the typing. But once I start I really get into my writing and become happier with every word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have another idea for a story, well mainly the premise of a particular story that has been hidden in my head for years. I really do mean years. I have had the whole idea of a point I want to reach, but I just don't know how to start the story and get my protaganists' there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck. And wish me diligence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-6093633118732696965?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/6093633118732696965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/06/neglecting-my-writing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/6093633118732696965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/6093633118732696965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/06/neglecting-my-writing.html' title='Neglecting My Writing'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-6185560804507220913</id><published>2009-05-19T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T17:43:01.344-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Native Passion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fiction'/><title type='text'>Native Passion - Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;I haven't posted anything I've written in a while. I've been more absorbed in reading than writing lately. But here is a piece I wrote last night after thinking of the idea all day. I must warn you it is very wrong grammatically since I really just wanted to get something concrete down. For now I'm calling it &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Native Passion&lt;/span&gt; but I'm not really settled on the title. I can't leave everyone of my works nameless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I didn't get down the beginning. So I really just skipped ahead an entire scene. To give you a synopsis they had just came back from hunting and the village was ecstatic because of the great amount of meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;The fire roared brightly that night. The villagers were happy, celebrating the meat for dinner. Kinakwa sat with her mate enjoying the happy spirit in the air. They sat around the cooking fire with Senoy at her feet. One of the village’s babes had crawled over and was playing with Senoy’s tail. Senoy appeased the baby by flicking his tail, while the young child attempt to catch it. Even he seemed to feel the joyful air around the cooking fire that night. Onowlo wrapped his arms around Kinakwa holding her tight. Kinakwa breathed deeply relaxing into Onowlo’s embrace. This is how life should be she thought.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The evening passed in that manner. A dance had started after one of the men struck up a song on his drum. Even Kinakwa joined in with the other women. Onowlo watched his love with adoration on his face. After all of the festivities people started dispersing to their separate quarters. The babe had fallen asleep on Senoy and his mother came to retrieve her babe. Kinakwa and Onowlo were one of the last to retreat to their hut. Senoy followed them when they made their way.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Inside things became intimate. Kinakwa had eyed the baby that kept company with Senoy that night and Onowlo had noticed. Kinakwa knew that he didn’t feel ready for a baby, but she was, her maternal instincts were strong as ever. The couple made love and fell asleep afterwards in each other’s arms, with content on their faces. It was just one of those days when things were right. Kinakwa’s dreams were filled with happiness. The village slept in peace and things were good.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The happy atmosphere took a sharp turn hours later. Kinakwa was startled out of her slumber by shouting. Onolo was already up and rushing to the door of their hut, his weapon was in his hand. Senoy growled deep and got in a position to pounce. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Onolo quickly turned to Kinakwa, “Protect the Babes!” And he ran out. Kinakwa quickly gather her to machetes and ran out to the mayhem. Outside chaos ensued, the huts on the villages permimeter were up in flames and people were running for their safety. People emerged from other huts near Kinakwa’s confused about the events. The village was being invaded! Suddenly two men flew from around the corner. Kinakwa shook the sleep from her eyes and focused. She ran to the men, they were obviously strangers they weren’t from another village. The men’s skin was as white as elephant tusks and their hair the color of fire. Kinakwa made quick word of them, obviously they didn’t expect a woman to have such skill with a blade.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Kinakwa began running to the food hut. It was where the children and older villagers were taken during invasions such as these. There they were protected by the many warriors that surrounded the hut. Along the way together Kinakwa and Senoy dispatched of four more of the strange pale –faced men.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;At the hut things weren’t any better. The other woman fighters were protecting the hut, the men must’ve already taken off to clear the rest of the village. Kinakwa joined them and took her place as the head of their group. The pale-faced men were everywhere Senoy was ready at her side to defend her and her people with his noble tiger life. Inside the hut Kinakwa could make out the prayers of the elders and the children crying for their mothers who fought just outside. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Kinakwa and the woman fought bravely but their numbers were thinning fast a few of the woman and been incapacited, a few, dead, but it seemed as if the pale-faced men’s numbers never dwindled. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Beads of sweat formed on Kinakwa’s forhead as she stabbed one man in his gut and threw his body at one of his companions who Senoy quickly attacked while the man was off guard. Kinakwa was covered in the blood of the intruders. Her appearance was ferocious&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Suddenly, in the distance Kinakwa heard a warrior cry, her heart nearly stopped at this sound. Kinakwa recognized this sound anywhere. It was the cry of her lover! Kinakwa knew things couldn’t be good. This cry was only made during battle when a great warrior found himself backed into a corner. It was a finally attempt to scare the enemy. A few more cries went up and some of the other women with Kinakwa turned their attention to it, they each recognized the sound of their lovers. One of the women cryed out in response and foolishly ran into the direction the sound had come from. A pale –faced man took this opportunity to slice her through.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The pale-faced men had grouped together about 20 feet from where Kinakwa stood guard. The had seen their other companions attempt to attack the woman and they had seen what the woman could do. They were being smart they were planning how they were to attack.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Again, Onlu’s cry sounded. This was too much for Kinakwa to take. Foolishly, Kinakwa did what the other woman had done. She sound her responding cry and charged at the group of me, intent on making it to her lover’s side. But the other woman didn’t have what Kinakwa had, she didn’t have Senoy bravely ever at her side. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Kinakwa sliced through two of the men with each of her blades. Senoy jumped over her into the face of one that was charging at her. Blood splattered over her blocking her vision. She barely dodged a sword that swung down on her. She tripped the man and stabbed him in his stomach before he even hit the ground. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;More men attacked and more men died. Kinakwa was in a rage that envied the power of a tsunami. Senoy had killed his share of the men attacking their jugular. Kinakwa ran on to where her lover fought for her life. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The were at the cooking pit. Six men from the tribe were being taken down, but they weren’t being killed they were being, captured. Onlu went down when Kinakwa was finally in sight of them. The pale-faced man quickly disarmed them and bound their hands and feet. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;This was too much for Kinakwa to handle. A fresh wave of adrenaline was being pumped throughout her body. Kinakwa tilted her head back and let out a powerful bone-chilling screech. The men surrounding her lover and the other villagers turned her attention on her. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Kinakwa walked towards them and slowly picked up into a sprint with both of her blades ready. Senoy roared the roar of the King Tiger. Together they dived into the pit of pale-faces. The sight of woman and tiger was one to behold. They worked together intune with each other’s every move. Even in all the blood, death, and chaos that surrounded them it seemed beautiful. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Many more of the pale-faced men died at the hands of the duo. But like before the numbers didn’t seem to dwindle. Kinakwa breathe heavily as a circled widened around her. She couldn’t keep this up. She had made little progress to get to her lover’s side. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;She took a deep breath in. This was it, she was going to make one final attempt to get to Onolu. It was all she had left to give. Kinakwa ran toward where they were located. Sonay seemed to know what she wanted. He darted ahead of her and took down one of the man. As he fell Kinakwa jumped and use him as a platform to reach higher and further. It was in slow motion. Below her the intruders looked at her in awe. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;She rolled in between the group of her villagers and took a fighting stance above her lover. A few of the pale-faced men let out a left recognizing what she was doing. The laughing ended quickly and they overtook her.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Kinakwa found herself bound like the other men, she was confused. They didn’t kill her. Senoy himself had both his front and back paws bound, and also his muzzle. The pale-faced men spoke a strange language over the bound villagers. Kinakwa crawled to her Onolu’s side. He was injured and seemed to be falling in and out of consciousness. But his attention did perk up when he saw was at his side. Kinakwa and Onolu layed silently together. The intruder’s talked in their stranger language amongst themselves. Not to long after Kinakwa found herself swung over one of the men’s shoulders and the other villagers were carried to. She could make out Senoy behind her being carried by two of the intruders.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The group left the village Kinakwa saw the ruins of what had been her home for her entire life and wondered what was in store for her. She wondered if she would ever see the village again. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;After a trek through the jungle they had reached one of the well used paths. In the clearing a caravan awaited. The other village men were thrown into the back of one of the covered wagons, but Kinakwa and Senoy were carried further to the head of the train.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;They were carried to what appeared to be the leader. He the man carrying Kinakwa dropped her to the ground. The leader approached. He looked just like the other men, but had an air about him that commanded respect. He reached out and pulled Kinakwa’s face to him. He had a long scar down his entire right arm. The man said something to her and laughed. He then made his way to Senoy. He scanned the tiger and then motioned with his hand. One of the other men gave him a sword. The leader positioned the sword over Senoy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Kinakwa screamed. They intended to kill Senoy. The leader looked at her again and laughed he said something to his men and they joined in laughing. He then said something else and put the sword away.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The man carried Kinakwa to an empty covered wagon and there she cried herself to sleep, confused, lonely, and exhausted.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;"&gt;-----------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal" face="georgia"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;When Kinakwa awoke sunlight shone through slits in the canvas and the wagon was in motion. She positioned herself in an upright positioned and looked around her. The wagon contained boxes and crates devoid of any markings that hinted to their contents. All she could do was think. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Kinakwa was scared. She didn’t know about Onlu’s condition. He seemed at death’s door the night before and he couldn’t be any better now. She knew these men wouldn’t care if he died during the night. Then there was Senoy. The man with the scare was about to kill him, but at the sound of Kinakwa’s scream he had stopped, he even found it amusing. He found death amusing. Kinakwa spat at the thought. Their was nothing she could do. Kinakwa closed her eyes and began to focus. She needed all the strength she could muster for whatever awaited her.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-6185560804507220913?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/6185560804507220913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/native-passion-part-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/6185560804507220913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/6185560804507220913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/native-passion-part-1.html' title='Native Passion - Part 1'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-8702994854977384156</id><published>2009-05-16T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T13:41:04.845-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moral'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fiction'/><title type='text'>Book of the Week - Who Moved My Cheese?</title><content type='html'>This week's book has a strong moral, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who Moved My Cheese?&lt;/span&gt; by Spencer Johnson M.D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.whomovedmycheese.com/images/WMMC-Hardcover.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 225px;" src="http://www.whomovedmycheese.com/images/WMMC-Hardcover.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Synopsis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who Moved My Cheese?&lt;/span&gt; is the story of four characters living in a "Maze" who face unexpected change when they discover their "Cheese" has disappeared. Sniff and Scurry, who are mice, and Hem and Haw, little people the size of mice, each adapt to change in their "Maze" differently. In fact, one doesn't adapt at all...                       &lt;p&gt;This timeless allegory reveals profound truths to individuals and organizations dealing with change. We each live in a "Maze", a metaphor for the companies or organizations we work with, the communities we live in, the families we love places where we look for the things we want in life, "Cheese". It may be an enjoyable career, loving relationships, wealth, or spiritual peace of mind. With time and experience, one character eventually succeeds and even prospers from the change in his "Maze".In an effort to share what he has learned along the way, he records his personal discoveries on the maze walls, the "Handwriting on the Wall". Likewise, when we begin to see the "writing on the wall", we discover the simplicity and necessity of adapting to change.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Review&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Aunt was the one who gave me the book, she said that it was a story that effected a lot of people. I think it was bad of her to tell me this, because when I began reading the book I was really expecting to have an epiphany. Sadly, I didn't have one.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The story was...cute. I can see why it would effect a lot of people, but for me it didn't really touch me in anyway. I do understand the moral and it does make sense, but I found that the story turned my away from it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Its an extremely short book with large font, a very easy ready (makes you feel like a child again). Great to keep in your bag for those times when you find yourself waiting. But for me I its not that high on my list.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;PV Rating : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;♥ ♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; (2/5)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-8702994854977384156?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/8702994854977384156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/book-of-week-who-moved-my-cheese.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/8702994854977384156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/8702994854977384156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/book-of-week-who-moved-my-cheese.html' title='Book of the Week - Who Moved My Cheese?'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-4488239284395868143</id><published>2009-05-13T16:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T16:09:45.714-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inspire'/><title type='text'>Inspire - 5/13</title><content type='html'>If you have ever tried your hand at writing you'll understand how hard it is. You can spend an hour in front of paper or you computer and come out with a paragraph that you simply hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, when you open up your favorite book and begin reading you find that the images come to your mind so easily, the authors descriptions are so perfect for the scene. You may even say to yourself that it comes easy to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Easy reading is damn hard writing.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;Nathaniel Hawthorne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Don't think that even the most published authors have it easy. Writing is a skill just like anything else, it really takes time to hone yourself to the craft. But even the most skilled writers struggle. Writers block can stop anyone in their tracks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So don't let that blank paper dishearten you from writing that wonderful story laid out perfectly in you hair. Focus and get it down on paper for the rest of the world to share!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-4488239284395868143?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/4488239284395868143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/inspire-513.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/4488239284395868143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/4488239284395868143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/inspire-513.html' title='Inspire - 5/13'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-3283654985101642984</id><published>2009-05-06T13:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T13:40:34.858-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vampires'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fiction'/><title type='text'>Book of the Week - Demon In My View</title><content type='html'>How one improve their writing without reading. Its like trying to learn chest without ever seeing how its played. I used to be an avid reader, but that habit has fallen due to a much busier schedule. Now, I'm am working reading into my schedule since it is essential in itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Weeks title is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Demon In My View&lt;/span&gt; by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41Twz74RxAL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 173px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41Twz74RxAL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Synopsis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a short book that the author wrote and published before she could get a license. The book is about a young author who uses a pseudonym to write about the lives of vampires and witches that her imagination has created, or so she believes. She discovers that there is much more to her stories than even she realizes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/images/n4/n23291.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 192px;" src="http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/images/n4/n23291.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Review&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concept is delicious, but the execution could be different. I felt very rushed throughout the book. As a reader I felt cheated out of details, and the a lot of the plot turns and the vampire powers were a bit too convient. I read this book when I was younger and had just came across it while browsing &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Books-a-Million&lt;/span&gt; and what I had built up the book to be was greater than the actual thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless I did enjoy reading it and I was absorbed to see how the story would turn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also has written a number of other books. I have read a few of them and they are intriguing also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;PV Rating : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;♥ ♥ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; (3/5)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-3283654985101642984?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/3283654985101642984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/book-of-week-demon-in-my-view.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/3283654985101642984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/3283654985101642984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/book-of-week-demon-in-my-view.html' title='Book of the Week - Demon In My View'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-988002040421995501</id><published>2009-05-05T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T13:08:55.213-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Serene'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><title type='text'>Serene Part 2</title><content type='html'>Here is a continuation of my "nameless" story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Volvo pulled into a spot and the engine cut off. The door opened and a small slender woman got out. She wore her hair natural and it was pulled back into a large puff. It gave her a younger than she is appearance. She wore scrubs. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;This must be her, Serene thought.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Hey boys,” Said the woman. “Your mom is late as usual, huh?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Hows it going Dr. Griffin.” Of course, Toby was the first to speak. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;Lance mumbled his hellos.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“Of course she’s late, she wouldn’t be herself if she was.” Toby continued.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;Dr. Griffin then turned her attention to me. “And you must be Serene.” I nodded yes. She held out her hand for me to shake.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;As I reached for it, she pulled me off of the bench into a hug. I froze, not expecting this. I’ve never been giving such a warm welcome. It was…nice.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I could hear the twins laughing next to us. I guess I was making my surprise obvious.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“I’m so glad you’re finally here. Let me look at you.” She stepped back and motioned with her finger for me to spin around.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I hesitated and decided to do what she said. I turned around giving her a full 360 of what she was getting herself into.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“You look just as beautiful as your mother.” As she said that a hint of sadness flashed across her face, but it disappeared just as quickly.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“Yeah, I get that a lot, from the people who remember her.” I finally spoke.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;She started laughing. I looked at her confused.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“And you sound just like her!” She looked up and paused for awhile, she looked lost in her memories.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“Uh, Dr. Griffin,” I said, “are you okay?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“Huh, oh sorry. Wait. Don’t you dare call me Dr. you can call me Patricia or Pat whichever you prefer.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“Alright, I will, Pat.” I smiled. I did like her.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“Let’s get you home and settled in. You look exhausted.” She took up my single suitcase. “Is this all you have?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“Yes, just that and this book bag.” I said while holding up the worn out JanSport for her to see.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“Well you’re not one to fill the stereotype.” She laughed to herself. “Later boys. Say hi to Jen for me.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“We will.” They said in unison.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I nodded my goodbyes to them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“See you in school Serene.” Toby said as he waved.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;Patricia put my suitcase in the trunk as I got in on the passenger side. The car was nice and cozy, and the seats extremely comfortable, a pleasant change from the bus.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;Patricia got in and started the engine.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;“Welcome to ______.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m sure you’ll love it here.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;That was the last thing she said as we pulled out of the parking lot headed to my new home.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The was gorgeous. It was a small but noble home off the road into the woods. I could see it through the trees as we pulled up. It had white-washed brick with a small front porch with a swing chair. When we finally made it out of the trees I realized that my perception was extremely wrong.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The house was small, but the land on it was huge. It appeared to be about a full two cleared acres. Most of the land was fenced in. In the distance I could see the reason for it. A few horses were eating grass in the distance. I could see a small animal get up for the grass and start running toward us. As it approached I could see it was a dog.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“I hope you like dogs.” Patricia said with a smile. “He won’t bite, He loves people.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;Patricia parked the car and we got out. The dog ran jumped through the wooden spaces in the gates and charged at us.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Patricia held out her arms in anticipation for his welcome, but the dog ran right passed her at me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I wasn’t afraid of dogs and I actually liked them, but I didn’t expect this welcome I was receiving. The dog got on his hind legs and wagged his tale while barking in my face. He seemed friendly enough. His face even looked like it was smiling.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Well, that really hurt my feelings Duke. We have a newcomer and you all but forget about me.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Duke turned his attention to Patricia at the sound of his name and they had their moment together. I used this time to recover and wipe the dirt off my clothes. These welcomes were really going to take getting used to.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Your home is beautiful.” I commented as we headed into the house. “And I can’t believe you own horses.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Thanks Serene, I’m glad you like it. And almost everyone around here does. It’s a huge pastime up here. You can even ride one of my baby’s to your school if you want.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;My eyes widen in surprise.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Patricia laughed in my face. “A lot of the kids do, its cheaper and it gives the horses some good exercise. Do you know how to ride?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I shook my head. It was an amusing thought to think of students riding horses onto school grounds. I did see a number of riders on the drive here, but I didn’t expect that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Well you best ought to learn if you want to fit in.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The inside of the house was just as amazing as the out. All along the shelves and on tables were books. My heart jumped at the thought of being able to crack open all of these foreign titles.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Patricia noticed my new mood. “I take it you like to read.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I nodded hurriedly.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Well feel free to read any book you wish. I been so busy at the hospital that I’m afraid I’ve been neglecting them.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Patricia led me upstairs before I could start looking through the titles. The house appeared to be three bedrooms, one to the left of the stairs and two to the right. The bathroom was on the left side. She led me to the room far to the back on the right side.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“You go first, I hope you like it.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I opened the door and found myself in a lovely room with a little hallway leading into it. The closet was in the hallway. A gorgeous oak dresser was right at the end of the hallway. Once I entered the main part of the room I was greeted by the sun. My window was set so that it was engorged by sunlight.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“I hope you like your view, I picked this room because of it. If you don’t like it you can always move into the other one.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“No, no, I love it.” I said in awe.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I huge oak bed took up most of the room and it was made up with a plush flowerly quilt. In the corner of the room were a desk and a bookshelf waiting to be stocked with books. On top of the desk was a small gift box.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“You shouldn’t have.” I said turning to face Pat.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“She smiled at me, its nothing big, I think you’ll like it. Go, open it.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I walked across the room and picked up the box. It felt light. I took off the wrapper and held up a burgundy jewelry box. I opened the box and inside was a small pendent it was in the shaped of a star fish with a cluster of jewels in the center.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Its beautiful.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“It was your mother’s.” &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I looked up amazed. “Really…”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Yeah, your mother and I were best of friends. So naturally I would have borrowed a lot of stuff from her.” She laughed at this part. “I had borrowed this necklace from her a few weeks before she ran away with your dad. It was her favorite, but she never bothered to get it from me and just told me to keep it. I think its best for you to have it.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Thank you.” I smiled at Patrica with a renewed appreciation. She had given me something I had never had. Something that my mother owned and wore and loved. My dad had to sell anything that was worth anything when my mom died in order to pay bills and take care of me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Well, I’m going to get out of your hair. I have to get dinner started anyways.” Patricia walked out of the room with Duke on her heel.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I sat down on the bed still holding the necklace. After a few minutes I felt a few tears land on the pendant and I broke out of my trance. I put on the necklace and walked over to the mirror. It was beautiful. I looked at myself closely. Patricia said that I looked just like her mother. I changed the way I looked at myself and attempted to see her, the woman that I never really knew. I sighed at my failure and began to unpack.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I had only been in town for an hour and already I was falling in love with this place.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I’m sure there was much more for me to discover.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  I hope you enjoyed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Edited to say:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Whenever I put '_____' this signifies that I don't have a suitable name for it just yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-988002040421995501?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/988002040421995501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/nameless-story-part-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/988002040421995501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/988002040421995501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/nameless-story-part-2.html' title='Serene Part 2'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-9063310447247009725</id><published>2009-05-04T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T13:09:31.001-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Serene'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><title type='text'>Serene Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Here is the first 2 pages of one story I started a few nights ago. I hope you enjoy it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve always loved books. The stories that could be told on their pages have always held me captive. I could spend hours browsing library and bookstore shelves, and I do. I’ve always seen it as a way to escape from this reality, much to be pleasure. Books have always held that for me. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I didn’t own many books, but if there was one thing that always went with me wherever I moved, it was my books.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;My mother is dead, and my father absent, leaving me alone; an only child with no siblings and no parental figure, but plenty of other family that didn’t want anything to do with me. My mother past at childbirth and at the tender age of 7 my father decided he didn’t want anything more to do with me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;So I’ve moved around a lot most of my life. I’ve found myself being passed around like a hand-me down that no one wanted, but just couldn’t get rid of. But I’ve come to enjoy each. Each new place I come live at brings me new libraries and unexplored bookstores to spend my days.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;And that is exactly the situation I found myself in today, sitting on a Greyhound Bus heading to a new house, or “home” as my social worker called it. He considered this one a promising place. I’ve learned to ignore these fantasies of his.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I was headed to a small town right on the east side of North Carolina. I had started my journey from Georgia just a measly 15 hours before, would be pulling into the station in less than 30 minutes.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I picked back up the book I had been reading, before I got lost in thought. I began reading and found myself stranded on a small deserted island with a bunch of bratty boys, &lt;i style=""&gt;The Lord of the Flies&lt;/i&gt;, one of my favorites. Something about seeing humans at their worst attracted me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I had just gotten to the part where the boys discovered the fallen pilot when the bus slowed down. We had gotten off of a main street and were headed into town. My social worker had kindly informed me that the town was small, only home to a bit more 500 residents. He thought I would like the place, being as anti-social as I am. But what he doesn’t understand is that the less people there are, the greater chance of me standing out.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The town wasn’t much; I could tell that we were passing through what would be the downtown district. There were a few quaint stores. One in particular looked promising. I small sign over it said &lt;i style=""&gt;Bottom Shelf&lt;/i&gt;; the words were set over a stack of books. I made a mental note to check out the store later.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The bus turned into the parking lot of the bus station, which was nothing more than a trailer made-up into a ticket station. I stuffed my book back into my book bag and headed off of the bus. Two other people were getting off with me. They were two boys, had to be about my age, and twins. I had seen them get on the bus at a stop we made a few hours back.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I looked around. It appeared that my new “keeper” wasn’t here yet. I grabbed my one suitcase and headed over to one of the benches to wait.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;With a new place comes new friends, &lt;/i&gt;well that’s the saying, but I never expected to make any and I never wanted to. What was the point? But to my dismay one of the twin boys noticed me. He spoke to his brother who was unloading his stuff and he glanced at me. They headed over my way with broad smiles on their faces. I tensed up not looking forward to an unwelcome social situation, but did my best to put on a small smile.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;The twin who noticed me was the first to speak “Hey, you must be.....”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Serene.” His brother finished his sentence.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I was taken aback by the fact that they knew my name, but then I realized that news must have spread before I even arrived.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you…uh…”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“It’s Toby,” again the one who had noticed me spoke, “and this is my brother Lance.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Lance nodded at me. He seemed like the reserved brother out of the two, much more likeable than his over-friendly brother Toby.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” I smiled weakly.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Toby continued, “I hope you don’t think it’s weird that we already know about you. But you are staying with Dr. Connie aren’t you?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I motioned to speak, but he didn’t even give me a chance.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“She’s like one of the main doctor’s in this town and everyone loves her. She lives all alone, so its good that she’ll finally have some good company.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Toby.” Lance interrupted, and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Oh, sorry. I do that a lot,” Toby laughed softly to himself and sat down beside me. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I gave a look of thanks to Lance who nodded back before he sat down on my other side. He seemed to understand me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Five minutes with by without a sound from them, although Toby seemed to want to speak really badly.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;They didn’t seem as bad as I first thought, Toby was a bit too friendly, but Lance knew how to keep his brother in line.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Finally, after a bit more waiting a white Volvo pulled into the parking lot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I still haven't come up with a name for it. So right now it'll stay "nameless."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-9063310447247009725?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/9063310447247009725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/nameless-story-part-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/9063310447247009725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/9063310447247009725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/nameless-story-part-1.html' title='Serene Part 1'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-8148839557592162660</id><published>2009-05-03T22:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T23:02:14.127-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inspire'/><title type='text'>Inspire 5/4</title><content type='html'>I am a huge fan of quotations. I love the idea of a deep powerful thought expressed in a short sentence (That is a huge part of writing). Well, say hello to a weekly post called &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Inspire&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If there's a book you really want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"&gt;     -Toni Morrison&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We all have our personal preferences, and there are simply certain types of books that each of us like to read. Personally, I've always had a passion for fantasy and all things not apart of reality. So, I find myself imagining these stories that I would love to see, but the only problem is that no one has written it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course that is where I come in. All the great books of the world started with someone making the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;decision&lt;/span&gt; to put words on paper. Without that decision the world would tragically be without the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-8148839557592162660?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/8148839557592162660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/inspire-54.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/8148839557592162660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/8148839557592162660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/inspire-54.html' title='Inspire 5/4'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-6990232131924564690</id><published>2009-05-03T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T19:37:08.381-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog Update'/><title type='text'>Welcome to Paper Visions!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Paper Visions&lt;/span&gt; is my blog about writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always had a yearning to write, and here is were I will chronicle all of these ramblings and scenes that I find myself writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two other blogs, one called &lt;a href="http://campushair.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Campus Hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, and the other called &lt;a href="http://pnpchic.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pencil and Paper Chick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, visit those other blogs and I hope you enjoy this one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-6990232131924564690?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/feeds/6990232131924564690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/welcome-to-paper-visions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/6990232131924564690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/6990232131924564690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2009/05/welcome-to-paper-visions.html' title='Welcome to Paper Visions!'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-4037135937977861513</id><published>2008-07-21T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T13:06:57.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Useful Links</title><content type='html'>Creative Writing Blogs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bestcollegesonline.com/blog/2009/02/05/top-100-creative-writing-blogs/"&gt;Top 100 Creative Writing Blogs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Novel Writing Guides/Tips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bestcollegesonline.com/blog/2009/02/05/top-100-creative-writing-blogs/"&gt;How to write a novel in 100 days or less&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/snowflake.php"&gt;Snowflake Method of Novel Writing&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://justinelarbalestier.com/blog/2006/09/06/how-to-write-a-novel/"&gt;Justine Larbalestier's Guide to Novel Writing&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writing Communities&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.writing.com/?i=1"&gt;Writing.Com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-4037135937977861513?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/4037135937977861513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/4037135937977861513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2008/07/useful-links.html' title='Useful Links'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1755196931342035262.post-5480246456919024608</id><published>2008-07-21T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T21:01:21.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Projects</title><content type='html'>Here is a central collection of all of my projects.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Works in Progress&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/search/label/Users"&gt;Users: Corruption&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/search/label/Native%20Passion"&gt;Native Passion&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/search/label/Serene"&gt;Serene&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;Completed Projects&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AdkteQXeVHA2ZGNmcDlwM21fNGhocHF6dmcy&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;Living With Joy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AdkteQXeVHA2ZGNmcDlwM21fNWR4ejViN2N6&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;The Idea&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1755196931342035262-5480246456919024608?l=paper-visions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/5480246456919024608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1755196931342035262/posts/default/5480246456919024608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paper-visions.blogspot.com/2008/07/projects.html' title='Projects'/><author><name>DeJa Vu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08249748234448768629</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
