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	<title>untilted rubbish.</title>
	<link>http://typr.org/untilted</link>
	<description></description>
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		<title>semantics riding shotgun (revised)</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I suppose you could say that I felt that the original piece was to... heavy.... wordy... something along those lines, with that as an after thought, I cut some of the gristle away from the meat and left the bone. This is one of 44 out of 189 pieces that I actually am proud that I wrote.]]></description>
		<link>http://typr.org/untilted/2010/11/24/semantics-riding-shotgun-revised/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>the lens cap</title>
		<description><![CDATA[You reminded me of something that just happened just last week; I woke exceptionally late to meet a friend for drinks and when we were done we walked outside the bar and noticed the sky looked rather bleak; she wasn’t one to say goodnight and instead kissed me on the corner of my lips but [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://typr.org/untilted/2010/07/21/the-lens-cap/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Persuasion We&#8217;re Into</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I felt I lost it in the time it takes the sun to rise and shine, I must admit that lately I haven’t been good or even fine; there are words for people like me but I don’t think there’s very many. I&#8217;ve gained little to no control and I’ve decided to take life’s corners faster [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://typr.org/untilted/2010/07/04/persuasion-were-into/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>#1</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I just printed out everything I&#8217;ve ever written, the finished stuff, its about 2.5 inches of stacked paper. #1.5 I went to Fedex Office today and made it double sided, wire bound it with a black back and clear front, its only about .75 of an inch thick now.]]></description>
		<link>http://typr.org/untilted/2010/05/29/1/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>degrees, ghosts and feeling you&#8217;re sinking</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Contrite it seems that I need to find a space in which I can breathe with lungs that don’t quiver when I freeze; a spirit crushed like the powdered inks mixed with water to paint the lines of separation in grids and degrees. I ask was I; I was not ready to deal will all [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://typr.org/untilted/2010/05/27/degrees-ghosts-and-feeling-youre-sinking/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>she</title>
		<description><![CDATA[She&#8217;s my sunlight in a world that’s gray. She&#8217;s breaking through the clouds in each and every way that counts. Beams of light to save my life, I&#8217;m saving my life thinking of her a little every day. Soothing the fires raging inside with word play; twisting and bending, breaking and fixing, contorting images in [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://typr.org/untilted/2010/05/26/she/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>idiosyncrasies</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I&#8217;m completely lost in why you always address me with faded memories but for the first time I can see through your fake smiles on lips so sensuous. Fingers following the sweat that trails down your hips; I fell in, forgot original intent or why I write of you in past or future tense. It&#8217;s [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://typr.org/untilted/2010/05/13/idiosyncrasies/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>remission</title>
		<description><![CDATA[And we gave into a giving and said thanks for simply living; we all seem to be content with existing and breathing has since became an ambition; the simple things we’re after like living and living then finding repetition lost left longing and leery in suspicion. So in these circles step softly and recite not [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://typr.org/untilted/2010/05/09/remission/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>work in progress: (a) woman</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Before the pen clots and the ink stops flowing: In a moment I know by way of familiarity; all day long I’m thinking the same old thoughts and inside my head they go round in circles concentrically. And then the pen slows and the ink stops flowing. And did she ever really exist to begin [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://typr.org/untilted/2010/05/07/work-in-progress-a-woman/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>the method of laces becoming pervasive</title>
		<description><![CDATA[These days we find ourselves less and less engaged and lost in our own ways; we approach life at insane speeds and wave through it as if it was a sordidly composed musical piece or a life spoken about in pretense addressing a fixture in literature, little more than a synopsis describing the fiction we [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://typr.org/untilted/2010/05/05/the-method-of-laces-becoming-pervasive/</link>
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