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	<title>Les Pensées</title>
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	<description>When thinking in English simply isn't enough.</description>
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		<title>Breath of Life</title>
		<link>http://www.marcjolicoeur.com/thoughts/?p=87</link>
		<comments>http://www.marcjolicoeur.com/thoughts/?p=87#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 23 Aug 2010 18:21:35 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mjolicoeur</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I can't quite explain it, but lately I've been overwhelmed by the weight of life. Not the weight on my shoulders. Moreso the weightiness of it. The gravity. The significance. What is it? I don't mean "Why are we here?". I mean "What IS life?", be it in man or insect. Where does it go? [...]]]></description>
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		<title>A Life Undocumented</title>
		<link>http://www.marcjolicoeur.com/thoughts/?p=85</link>
		<comments>http://www.marcjolicoeur.com/thoughts/?p=85#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 18 Aug 2010 16:40:38 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mjolicoeur</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[A life undocumented is a life wasted. We should all be scribbling furiously into notebooks with each passing moment. If we don't, how will future generations know we were here? Rather, how will they know what we did and how we felt every single moment of every single day?
The benefits would be manifold. We all [...]]]></description>
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		<title>We Do It To Ourselves</title>
		<link>http://www.marcjolicoeur.com/thoughts/?p=83</link>
		<comments>http://www.marcjolicoeur.com/thoughts/?p=83#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 08 Aug 2010 14:00:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mjolicoeur</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Where two or more are gathered
We're more or less alone
The blinds are drawn, we're on our knees
Pretending no one's home
]]></description>
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		<title>Direction</title>
		<link>http://www.marcjolicoeur.com/thoughts/?p=81</link>
		<comments>http://www.marcjolicoeur.com/thoughts/?p=81#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 15 Jul 2010 17:46:30 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mjolicoeur</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[They walked hand in hand in circles in love.
He wore a leather jacket, but not a cool one. He had a shaved head and he had a tattoo (but, again, not a cool one). She looked hard... hardened... she hardly seemed lovely. They smelled like cigarettes and low-rent housing.
And they were in love; why should [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Twentynine</title>
		<link>http://www.marcjolicoeur.com/thoughts/?p=75</link>
		<comments>http://www.marcjolicoeur.com/thoughts/?p=75#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 08 Jul 2010 13:52:53 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mjolicoeur</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I am 29
I am in my prime
I am out of time
And space; though some say
He's numbered our days
Mine seem out of place
But Hope is alive
Despite all the cries
That come from behind
I am 29
I am in my prime
I am just in time
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