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        <title>deviantART: by:Apathogen</title>
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        <pubDate>Fri, 11 Dec 2009 15:20:50 PST</pubDate>        
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                <title>where once it was, it is not</title>
                <link>http://Apathogen.deviantart.com/journal/15715491/</link>
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                <pubDate>Thu, 29 Nov 2007 00:45:35 PST</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ its hard to take pictures when your camera gets stolen.<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~Apathogen</author>
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                <title>x</title>
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                <pubDate>Tue, 30 Oct 2007 06:06:50 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ i miss the days when the things that happened in my life seemed to have some sort of meaning.<br />
<br />
i've been in this place for years.<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~Apathogen</author>
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                <title>Some of What Makes Us Us</title>
                <link>http://Apathogen.deviantart.com/journal/14246330/</link>
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                <pubDate>Sun, 19 Aug 2007 20:26:39 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ Etnies.<br />
The Postal Service.<br />
Duct tape under a wig.<br />
A bite when you aren't expecting it.<br />
Pink Purple and Black.<br />
Headshot.<br />
Hang on to hope.<br />
Spinning in a circle.<br />
Shut up.<br />
Make Me.<br />
When you're gone, the pieces of my heart are missin' you.<br />
Jasmine Incense.<br />
One last kiss goodnight?<br />
My hand on top.<br />
Damien Rice.<br />
Walking in the rain.<br />
"All close and crazy cool."<br />
Chica... Dear...<br />
A Scanner Darkly and the giggles.<br />
The way your hair smells.<br />
"I like holding you." "I like you holding me."<br />
Running over veterans.<br />
Jasmine the fluffy pink bear.<br />
Someday <3.<br />
Non-Salamanders.<br />
!!<br />
"I'm thinking it, its on the tip of my tongue... but I need to say it in person first."<br />
Why did the bubblegum cross the road?<br />
The promise in the 9th floor lounge.<br />
I promise. I swear. I promise. I swear.<br />
Orgasm Tag.<br />
Running toward chinese food.<br />
1 2 3.<br />
Not bein' a traitor to bologna.<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~Apathogen</author>
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                <title>Pushed Around and Picked Apart</title>
                <link>http://Apathogen.deviantart.com/journal/13308204/</link>
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                <pubDate>Mon, 11 Jun 2007 19:49:15 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ Today is just one of those days where somehow EVERYONE is getting on my nerves... and I don't know why. I'm low on sleep even though I overslept, I've been busy all day for days and there's still work to do.  I'm tired of everyone telling me what I need to do, or should do, or could do, or they'd like me to do. I'm low on money and laughs and time and hugs and gas and food and sleep and... I guess theres really no point in complaining. This too shall pass. At least I have a floor to sleep on, and food to eat, friends (some near and most far), and hope. Optimism. <br />
<br />
I like to think of it this way. When I don't know which direction I'm going, the answer is easy. Forward. Time is moving forward and carrying me with it, so its better not to fight the current. Rowing with the current of time is called patience, and patience tastes like your lip when you bite it to take your mind off of your circumstances. I need to learn to love the taste of my blood, I need to become a vampire.<br />
<br />
Yeah, that'd probably take care of all the people irritatng me too. Its hard to be sarcastic when someone SUCKED ALL YOUR BLOOD OUT BAHAHAHHAHA...  well, at least I have my cynicism to keep me company, for what it's worth.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry I haven't posted any pictures lately.. I've just been completely busy with work and school. I do have some shots in mind though... look for em soon <img src="http://e.deviantart.com/emoticons/w/wink.gif" width="15" height="15" alt=";)" title=";) (Wink)" /><br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~Apathogen</author>
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