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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola</id>
  <title>hidden in the orchestra;</title>
  <subtitle>Nickee Coco &amp; The Invisible Tree.</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Nickee Coco &amp; The Invisible Tree.</name>
  </author>
  <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/"/>
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  <updated>2006-04-27T19:42:52Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="4551599" username="little_viola" type="personal"/>
  <link rel="service.feed" type="application/x.atom+xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom" title="hidden in the orchestra;"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:26133</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/26133.html"/>
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    <title>016. Daily Horoscope.</title>
    <published>2006-04-27T19:42:52Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-27T19:42:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;No matter how much you push, a connection you've been hoping for may just not click. Don't feel bad about this -- sometimes certain situations just can't work out. Instead, view this as a chance to try something else.&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:26110</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/26110.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=26110"/>
    <title>015. Wolf Notes.</title>
    <published>2006-03-31T17:06:55Z</published>
    <updated>2006-03-31T17:06:55Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/spider2.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;I find myself missing certain people more then usual lately. People who I have either encountered once, or people who I used to be close with years ago, &amp; parted different ways. Even ordinary places make me think of those who have made such a huge impact on my life. Different smells, &amp; voices get into my head &amp; leave me dazed for a long amount of minutes just recapping on memories. I don't know why I'm all of a sudden getting hit with this all at once, but as hard as it is at that time, I'm so thankful to have known, &amp; to have left something of myself with those people as they have done to me. &lt;br /&gt;I'm living my life with no regrets.&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:25354</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/25354.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=25354"/>
    <title>014. Drunken Images.</title>
    <published>2006-02-22T18:47:25Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-22T18:52:45Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;For the past few weeks without my camera it's been insanely difficult to just do what I really would like to. My eyes have been seeing the most disturbing objects lately, &amp; just when my mind starts to realize that what it sees in simply astonishing, I remember my camera is in the shop, &amp; all I have is my eyes to capture them. I feel like I've been letting a lot of people down lately. Just when I feel like I've made a good effort to try &amp; present myself differently, I get weird vibes. I hate being alone, but the thought of self freedom sounds so pleasing right now. My true colors are afraid to come out in front of others, &amp; even if they were courageous for a day, it wouldn't matter because no one would seem to care. Yesterday I felt like I was on another planet or dimension by myself. I really felt like I had lost all of my mind, &amp; thoughts on life. Walking into that place never seemed more frightening. I told myself to turn back, sit in the grass, &amp; smoke a cigarette, but for some reason my legs wouldn't stop scuffling over the cold concrete floor. My brain was forced to take in all of the knowledge &amp; all of the stories that were told there, no matter if I wanted to hear them or not. After leaving, I felt like no one really understood the way I felt. I, myself didn't even really understand what I was feeling. All I know is that I've never felt that way before in my entire life. I suppose the substances that I devoured yesterday might of had a large effect on the experience as well.&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:24923</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/24923.html"/>
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    <title>013. She's Too Busy Living Underground.</title>
    <published>2006-02-07T08:51:13Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-07T08:54:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;I'm moving away; Physically, &amp; mentally. &lt;br /&gt;Change isn't always terrible, so what am I so afraid of?&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:24662</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/24662.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=24662"/>
    <title>012. Don't Look Back, Keep Your Eyes Ahead.</title>
    <published>2006-02-02T15:29:12Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-03T06:13:39Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;I can't help but feel homeless, &amp; empty right now. I know I haven't really made the most wisest decisions lately, but in all honestly, they weren't all intensional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:24472</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/24472.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=24472"/>
    <title>011. Fingers In The Dirt.</title>
    <published>2006-01-24T00:18:51Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-24T08:17:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pack of smokes &amp; a little bump of cocaine, help you feel not so strange.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:24224</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/24224.html"/>
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    <title>010. Food Coloring, &amp; Bloody Noses.</title>
    <published>2006-01-23T06:42:39Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-24T00:22:15Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;I was so in love with everything &amp; everyone last night it was ridiculous. From the moment I woke up to the last second before I laid my head down on my own pillow, i just kept on thinking how much I really loved living life, &amp; being surrounded by such remarkable people.&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:23937</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/23937.html"/>
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    <title>09. Driving Me Backwards.</title>
    <published>2006-01-12T06:37:09Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-02T15:04:05Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;Tomorrow I leave to San Francisco for 3 days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was wonderful, as expected. I am so glad that I got to spend more time with someone who I barely know, &amp; with someone who's company is greater then most people I know.&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:23710</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/23710.html"/>
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    <title>08. Cocaine Blues.</title>
    <published>2006-01-09T02:16:06Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-09T02:16:06Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt; It's insanely difficult to express yourself to others because you are too caught up in thinking about what they are thinking. If only the words I really wanted to say could flow right out of my mouth, &amp; into your ears without any hesintation or doubt. I guess if I didn't care so much about it, it would be a lot more simple.&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:23363</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/23363.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=23363"/>
    <title>07. Confusion Boats.</title>
    <published>2006-01-05T19:33:44Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-09T01:50:22Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;Yesterday my horoscope read, 'You should let certain things, &amp; people come to you. You've done more then your share of trying to make others happy. Now it's their turn, if they're sincere they'll step up.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep my fingers crossed.&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:23207</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/23207.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=23207"/>
    <title>06. Gold Dusk Women.</title>
    <published>2005-12-29T18:58:44Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-02T03:02:54Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/bw.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Do you know how to pick up the pieces &amp; go home?&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:22717</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/22717.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=22717"/>
    <title>05. I Saw The Light.</title>
    <published>2005-12-26T07:50:07Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-28T21:53:51Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;Everything seemed so blurry yet clear at the same time. The mood just mixed so well with the noise, &amp; the noise just mixed so well with the atmosphere. Now, as I sit here awake, when I should be counting sheep, I think about how wonderful the people I have known truly are. Things are going slow, but are going surely; &amp; I really feel like starting tomorrow I will not only get a breath of fresh air, but some realization of what I am searching for.&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:22463</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/22463.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=22463"/>
    <title>04. The Perfect Temperature.</title>
    <published>2005-12-24T10:42:10Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-24T10:49:06Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;Music that makes you get chills down your spine is the only music worth listening to. Driving in the unbearable weather at 5:15am in the morning doesn't seem so unbearable anymore when those words seem so warm.&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:22036</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/22036.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=22036"/>
    <title>03. Being Cold, &amp; Having A Cold.</title>
    <published>2005-12-20T05:27:37Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-24T10:46:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/blurryflower.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From now on, I am going to exclude all the negative, &lt;br /&gt;&amp; single out only the beautiful things in life. &lt;br /&gt;Life is too glorious to let certain treasures pass you by.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/weiiirdsds.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/darker.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/lap.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/hmm.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/matthewgripley.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/sitthere.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/sadhouse.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/treecool.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/tirefield.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/shadows.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/brokentire.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/meshed.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/cactus.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/fieldcouch.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/leavehere.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/matthouse.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/good.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:21801</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/21801.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=21801"/>
    <title>02. Forcast Of The Day.</title>
    <published>2005-12-16T23:04:07Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-24T10:47:12Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt; My bones are freezing, I can touch them, but they are still numb. My camera is broken, I can use it, but it refuses to take anymore photographs of worthy objects. My eyes are sore, I can feel them, but they are swelling up as fast as an allergic person getting stung by a bee. My heart is thumping, I can hear it, but it just keeps on getting louder &amp; louder everytime &lt;b&gt;you&lt;/b&gt; come around.&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:little_viola:21515</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/21515.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://little-viola.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=21515"/>
    <title>01. Starting Over.</title>
    <published>2005-12-10T19:36:02Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-24T10:47:22Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y151/cowgirlsloveponies/boyfriend1.jpg" alt="test" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm exploding in smiles, my equilibrium's spinning.&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
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