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    <channel>
        <title>Muted Bass</title>
        <link>http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/posts/page/1/</link>
        <description>bap baa bada badow</description>
        <language>en</language>
        <generator>Vox</generator>
        <lastBuildDate>Wed, 13 Aug 2008 05:34:58 +0800</lastBuildDate>
        <copyright>Copyright 2008</copyright>
        <docs>http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss</docs>  
 
        <item>
            <title>new pages from the good book</title>
            <link>http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/post/new-pages-from-the-good-book.html?_c=feed-rss</link>   
            <author>nobody@vox.com(pravoxian)</author>
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            <pubDate>Wed, 13 Aug 2008 05:34:58 +0800</pubDate>         
            
            <description>     Too lazy to type anything. So here are some journal scans.                &lt;p style=&quot;clear:both;&quot;&gt; 
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        <item>
            <title>Solitude</title>
            <link>http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/post/solitude.html?_c=feed-rss</link>   
            <author>nobody@vox.com(pravoxian)</author>
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            <pubDate>Sat, 02 Aug 2008 05:43:56 +0800</pubDate>         
            
            <description>     I realized something,I enjoy being alone. Dont get me wrong, I enjoy the company of my friends immensely, I love partying and just chilling over a cold drink, but I dont mind being alone. I know people who cant stand being alone, I cant recall mor...    &lt;p style=&quot;clear:both;&quot;&gt; 
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&lt;/p&gt;
 
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        <item>
            <title>Typing in the dark</title>
            <link>http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/post/typing-in-the-dark.html?_c=feed-rss</link>   
            <author>nobody@vox.com(pravoxian)</author>
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            <pubDate>Sat, 12 Jul 2008 06:40:12 +0800</pubDate>         
            
            <description>     I guess this is the first real journal type entry Ive done in Here. Where to start.  First and foremost I guess, I lost the afro =D    Got bored of it, plus I found out to some people I was just that guy with the afro. A bit of a creepy realizatio...    &lt;p style=&quot;clear:both;&quot;&gt; 
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&lt;/p&gt;
 
            </description>   
        </item> 
 
        <item>
            <title>reality</title>
            <link>http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/post/reality.html?_c=feed-rss</link>   
            <author>nobody@vox.com(pravoxian)</author>
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            <pubDate>Thu, 03 Jul 2008 02:28:25 +0800</pubDate>         
            
            <description>      The sun shone through the window in tones of sepia and red. Just enough sun to make out that I was alone. No lover lay next to me, no warm body to comfort this soul. For too long have I dreamt that lover to reality. For too long have I seen somet...    &lt;p style=&quot;clear:both;&quot;&gt; 
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        <item>
            <title>death</title>
            <link>http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/post/death.html?_c=feed-rss</link>   
            <author>nobody@vox.com(pravoxian)</author>
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            <pubDate>Thu, 03 Jul 2008 02:28:12 +0800</pubDate>         
            
            <description>      If I have to die, I want to do it on an old boat, floating effortlessly on the Pacific Ocean. I will build it with my own hands, this funeral boat. It won’t matter that I will be alone, it only matters that I will be there, on the brink of eterni...    &lt;p style=&quot;clear:both;&quot;&gt; 
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&lt;/p&gt;
 
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        <item>
            <title>eternity</title>
            <link>http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/post/eternity.html?_c=feed-rss</link>   
            <author>nobody@vox.com(pravoxian)</author>
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            <pubDate>Thu, 03 Jul 2008 02:27:58 +0800</pubDate>         
            
            <description>      When the sun sets, and the night falls, I find it hard to imagine that I am living in the same world that I was in when I woke up. The world I woke too was bright, and loud, and filled with life, and the world at dusk becomes a magical place, and...    &lt;p style=&quot;clear:both;&quot;&gt; 
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&lt;/p&gt;
 
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        <item>
            <title>wall</title>
            <link>http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/post/wall.html?_c=feed-rss</link>   
            <author>nobody@vox.com(pravoxian)</author>
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            <pubDate>Thu, 03 Jul 2008 02:27:40 +0800</pubDate>         
            
            <description>      I painted the wall with chalkboard paint. To leave messages to myself, to let others leave messages to me, or at least to give myself the dream of other people caring enough to talk to me on this wall.  I came home one day, and the message was th...    &lt;p style=&quot;clear:both;&quot;&gt; 
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&lt;/p&gt;
 
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        <item>
            <title>window</title>
            <link>http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/post/window.html?_c=feed-rss</link>   
            <author>nobody@vox.com(pravoxian)</author>
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            <pubDate>Thu, 03 Jul 2008 02:24:57 +0800</pubDate>         
            
            <description>      I see through the window people who will never know me. They live their lives in absolute ignorance of me and each other, and yet I craft a story for them. They’re star crossed lovers, divided by cement and mortar.And sometimes I put myself into ...    &lt;p style=&quot;clear:both;&quot;&gt; 
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            <title>old man, the street sweeper and a basketball</title>
            <link>http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/post/old-man-the-street-sweeper-and-a-basketball.html?_c=feed-rss</link>   
            <author>nobody@vox.com(pravoxian)</author>
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            <pubDate>Sat, 31 May 2008 11:00:17 +0800</pubDate>         
            
            <description>     &lt;p class=&quot;enclosed-assets&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: 10px;&quot;&gt;     &lt;a href=&quot;http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/photo/6a00cdf7f24617094f00fad68cf30b0004.html?_c=feed-rss&quot; style=&quot;float:left; margin-right:6px;&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://a3.vox.com/6a00cdf7f24617094f00fad68cf30b0004-50si&quot; alt=&quot;PHOT0021&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 
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      I asked myself 3 questions before I left the house this morning. And as I walked, I answered them.  The old man answered my first question. He was shambling along in the morning sun, barely conscious of the world around him. His lips were mutter...    &lt;p style=&quot;clear:both;&quot;&gt; 
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        <item>
            <title>the blue in your eyes</title>
            <link>http://pravoxian.vox.com/library/post/the-blue-in-your-eyes.html?_c=feed-rss</link>   
            <author>nobody@vox.com(pravoxian)</author>
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            <pubDate>Thu, 27 Mar 2008 02:34:49 +0800</pubDate>         
            
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     The blue I imagine in your eyes remind me of an ocean I looked upon once. The sea was not as blue as others, but the black of the beach made me see a blue so rich I never forgot it. I see it on your eyes now, though they may be the deepest black,...    &lt;p style=&quot;clear:both;&quot;&gt; 
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