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        <title>deviantART: by:psycoanalysis</title>
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        <copyright>Copyright 2009, deviantART.com</copyright>

        <pubDate>Thu, 17 Dec 2009 12:23:24 PST</pubDate>        
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                  <item>
                <title>traditional</title>
                <link>http://psycoanalysis.deviantart.com/journal/17320721/</link>
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                <pubDate>Thu, 13 Mar 2008 18:05:54 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ Traditional all the way.<br />Fuck this new technology. I cant work it. If i cant smell of feel the texture...its worthless....its too perfect.<br /><br />viva la traditional!<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~psycoanalysis</author>
            </item>
          <item>
                <title>Devious Journal Entry</title>
                <link>http://psycoanalysis.deviantart.com/journal/15212208/</link>
                <guid isPermaLink="true">http://psycoanalysis.deviantart.com/journal/15212208/</guid>
                <pubDate>Thu, 25 Oct 2007 07:10:57 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ THE SCANNER! ITS ALIVE AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAH!<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~psycoanalysis</author>
            </item>
          <item>
                <title>.a.a..a</title>
                <link>http://psycoanalysis.deviantart.com/journal/14014155/</link>
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                <pubDate>Sat, 04 Aug 2007 11:19:07 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ making some progress. started my art again. Fucking bipolar took a year away from my art. tabarnac!<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~psycoanalysis</author>
            </item>
          <item>
                <title>Skin</title>
                <link>http://psycoanalysis.deviantart.com/journal/13201496/</link>
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                <pubDate>Sun, 03 Jun 2007 11:28:08 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ Skin is what literally hold you together. It's not the money, its not the clothes, the electronics...it's skin. Skin keeps the blood in, keeps the musecles and intestines from seeping through. Skin is amazin because it is so thin, the skin around your eye is much thicker than the skin of your palms but still it holds. Your lips are ever so thin, but they still have the loving feeling. So why am i talking about skin? Why not! Am i supposed to be talking abotu how i got drunk last night, or how many times i've gotten fucked? Shouldn't i be celebrating small things? Like skin? Because when you start to feel shitty all over again, you start to regress...it makes you scared. It makes you scared because there's nothing that triggered it. It's been months and months since i've felt this shitty. There's been so much going on, all of these things just sort of bounced off my skin but left bruises. This time, the skin opened and eeeeeverything came out. Felt so shitty i couldn't even go to work. People say "I hope you die" or " I hate you", but few actually go and see graves...because...saying that they wish that someone died isn't real...isn't....i dunno....real....<br />
let me take a sip an pollute my body for a second.<br />
We hate our skin for how imprefect it is. It's full of bumbs and bruises, hair and cuts. We hate it because it isn't uniform. We cover it up, put makeup on it, tattoo it, to make it look uniform and unique at the same time. We do this with our lives...we attempt to polish up all of the things we see as negatives..but those things really aren't negatives...they aren't. We just see them as negatives because they stick out like a sore thumb, but they are in our co-existance. They do not define us, but rather unify us. Without our faults we go no where, you might as well stamp a bar code on us and ring with through Wal Mart. Those who do great things, achieve it with our faults. <br />
Think of skin, think of yourself...hold it in together. Im tired of writing for now.<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~psycoanalysis</author>
            </item>
          <item>
                <title>Step one.</title>
                <link>http://psycoanalysis.deviantart.com/journal/13136346/</link>
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                <pubDate>Tue, 29 May 2007 09:52:10 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ Spin yourself around in your computer chair.<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~psycoanalysis</author>
            </item>
          <item>
                <title>Devious Journal Entry</title>
                <link>http://psycoanalysis.deviantart.com/journal/13112413/</link>
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                <pubDate>Sun, 27 May 2007 11:13:50 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ I promise to stitch you together my dear.<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~psycoanalysis</author>
            </item>
          <item>
                <title>Secrets</title>
                <link>http://psycoanalysis.deviantart.com/journal/12489865/</link>
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                <pubDate>Fri, 06 Apr 2007 23:01:19 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ People have secrets.<br />
Some die because of their secrets. Some die with their secrets. Some kill because of their secrets. Some kill themselves because of their secrets....<br />
Get what i'm saying.<br />
<br />
<br />
Do yourself a favour, don't work for the CIA.<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~psycoanalysis</author>
            </item>
          <item>
                <title>Changing the world</title>
                <link>http://psycoanalysis.deviantart.com/journal/12315288/</link>
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                <pubDate>Sat, 24 Mar 2007 21:01:19 PDT</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ Movies do weird things to me....they stir things...create situations and i tend to expand on them in my mind.<br />
Well, this time i'm gunna write them down.<br />
 <br />
We watched Lady in the Water (lisa's party woop woop!)<br />
 <br />
There's this part where a guy is making a book about all of his thoughts...politics and where he stands in the world...all of the bad stuff.<br />
The nymph tells him that he's going to be murdered because of this book, but that a person is going to read it and that person will change the world. The book will plant seeds.<br />
 <br />
If i died, i would choose to die knowing that there will be an impact on the rest of the world. But, that happens everyday...we can make good impact or bad impact. We can make decisiosn that save lives...or take them. We comfort people when they're at the end of their rope...or we kill them senslessly.<br />
 <br />
Everyone is connected...an invisible thread...sort of like Karma (Erne). If we all imagined the thread, then we would stop being prejudice...basing all of our thoughts on each other by sight, sexual orientation, race, religion, mental capabilities or limitations etc. etc.<br />
 <br />
So, knowing this....we can all be like this person who is to be murdered. We won't have the exact amount of impact that he would have on the world...but we can come close. As a collective group, we could change the world. By doing something nice, helpful...we could then pass on the love which could end up saving a life....or would most likely save a life.<br />
 <br />
We don't always need to write a book, but we always need to think with our minds not our eyes. Even the blind can be smarter than a man with 20/20 because he flexes his mind and interprets information without prejudism. <br />
 <br />
Change the world...change the world for you and your future children.<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~psycoanalysis</author>
            </item>
          <item>
                <title>leg :D</title>
                <link>http://psycoanalysis.deviantart.com/journal/11696020/</link>
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                <pubDate>Mon, 05 Feb 2007 11:13:46 PST</pubDate>
                
                <description><![CDATA[ I have a leg in my room.<br />
<br />
It's a doll's leg....<br />
<br />
I found it under a bush. School was out so i was struttin' around town with my doll's leg and walked right through the school yard. Man that was fun. My leg is my trophy. All you preps can kiss your golden trophy, but hell...my leg is ma trophy.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://heh.heh.heh">[link]</a>.<br />
check out postings on the RCMP website to see if i made it to Canada's Most wanted.<br /><br /> ]]></description>
                <author>~psycoanalysis</author>
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