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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:compressedsound</id>
  <title>Proven Hypothesis.</title>
  <subtitle>Adriannaz.</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Adriannaz.</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2006-02-07T05:25:26Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="6417250" username="compressedsound" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:compressedsound:4400</id>
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    <title>lolool</title>
    <published>2006-02-07T05:25:26Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-07T05:25:26Z</updated>
    <content type="html">IHML.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:compressedsound:4065</id>
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    <title>Ihy</title>
    <published>2006-02-03T05:49:54Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-03T05:49:54Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You suck English. ♥&lt;br&gt;
Sm!&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:compressedsound:3435</id>
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    <title>compressedsound @ 2006-01-29T16:41:00</title>
    <published>2006-01-30T00:41:35Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-30T00:41:35Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Limewire.&lt;br /&gt;Mac computers.&lt;br /&gt;That's my life right now.&lt;br /&gt;And Oh How I love It. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had this computer. It's beautiful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to find someone that I can talk to about behavioral acts that people do. &lt;br /&gt;Why people do this, why a certain person does that. &lt;br /&gt;I want to analyze someone with the help of another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I went into downtown Sac and ate at a small little place.&lt;br /&gt;I looked around and saw adorable little shops and wishes, with all of my heart, that I could just drive around by myself, with no destination whatsoever, and then park, go for a walk in the cold, the blustery wind attacking my hands, and just think. &lt;br /&gt;I can't do any of that without getting older, and that is just something I am not ready for. I can't get older. I'm not mentally prepared for half of the things I am going through. Sure, I'm fifteen, I've got less drama than most girls, but it's my innerself that causes me to not be nearly half as ready as I should be for most things.&lt;br /&gt;I'm confusing. &lt;br /&gt;I don't mean to make myself sound like a wonder of the world. "Adri, the eighth wonder of the world-Why is she so odd". I am probably making myself sound more than I really am. In other words. I'm a mess. An emotional mess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need someone to talk to. &lt;br /&gt;And I have plenty of people that I could talk to. Just none that I feel ultimately comfortable with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;I can't wait to grow up. &lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe, in reality, I actually can wait..</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:compressedsound:3277</id>
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    <title>compressedsound @ 2006-01-27T21:37:00</title>
    <published>2006-01-28T05:46:39Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-28T05:46:39Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;font size="7"&gt;Borringgg Friddayyyyyyy.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wah.
I don't think my last two Fridays could have been worse. I was supposed
to go see Dance Gavin Dance ♥, but I didn't. Tonight I was supposed to
see Gingivitis+ Anomaly and other bands but I couldn't. Goooossshhhh. &lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
I'm tired of people at my school calling me "that one emo girl". At
least the n00bs. Why can't people say "That one new girl" and not label
me irrelevant names. Pfft.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
I got a haircut on Friday the thirteenth. Hair Before: &lt;br&gt;
&lt;img style="width: 480px; height: 360px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v258/Blamecupid/IMG_4136.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
Hair After: WE974293UDSAFASJCJSDAUGLYYYY. &lt;br&gt;
No picture provided.&lt;br&gt;
I should have never let that crackwhore touch my hair, only I can! Pfft.&lt;br&gt;
I'm growing it out.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:compressedsound:2410</id>
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    <title>Release that air.</title>
    <published>2005-09-22T04:30:32Z</published>
    <updated>2005-09-22T04:30:32Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Pinback</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;font size="1"&gt;You&lt;br&gt;
You make me so angry.&lt;br&gt;
You make me so happy.&lt;br&gt;
I never see you.&lt;br&gt;
Ever.&lt;br&gt;
And when I do it's all lust.&lt;br&gt;
Lust lust lust.&lt;br&gt;
Is that what this is? &lt;br&gt;
Teenage escape from school and problems?&lt;br&gt;
Dive into lust.&lt;br&gt;
Dive into problems.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
Just dive into my mind.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;" size="3"&gt;&lt;br&gt;
My reality is crumbling.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;" size="3"&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:compressedsound:2240</id>
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    <title>compressedsound @ 2005-07-09T00:14:00</title>
    <published>2005-07-09T07:21:28Z</published>
    <updated>2005-07-09T07:21:28Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Frou Frou</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;font size="1"&gt;So, I'm looking at the entry I wrote last and smiled
kinda. Moving to Lincoln isn't that bad. I mean, sure the stores are
practically all closed on weekends, sure their thrift shop sucks and
sells used underwear, sure there's just one bar, 3 supermarkets, hicks,
and nearly no one here my age that I know of now, but in reality it's
fine. Eventually I'll meet someone. Eventually. &lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
Lately I've been acting odd. I don't even feel at home in my own house
anymore. I went to SanFrancisco and for the first time I was scared.
It's always been a little dream to live there, I walked around the city
and thought how amazing it was and then I got scared. &lt;br&gt;
I've been getting scared a lot lately though. &lt;br&gt;
I've also been having these incredibly terrible dreams. I had a dream
Karina wanted a divorce from her current husband. I know I'm just being
paranoid because this is her fourth marriage, but I think its lame that
I've had the same variation of the dream twice. My dreams keep getting
more and more crazy.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
I can deal with this stuff. I know I can; I'm just being a stupid cunty right now.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
Love,&lt;br&gt;
Adrianna.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:compressedsound:1516</id>
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    <title>Mad World.</title>
    <published>2005-03-26T03:19:00Z</published>
    <updated>2005-03-26T03:19:00Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Mad World-Gary Jules.</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;font size="1"&gt;People can name hundreds of bad things in their lives.&lt;br&gt;
They can go and on about how the bad things are screwing them up.&lt;br&gt;
But, when it comes to naming the things that seem to be going well,&lt;br&gt;
Admit it, &lt;br&gt;
There's always a setback in the good things.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
So, you've got a new boyfriend?&lt;br&gt;
He must do &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; that bothers you. &lt;br&gt;
So, &lt;br&gt;
You've got a great paying job?&lt;br&gt;
Your boss might be a bitch.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/font&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;
I just don't get it.&lt;br&gt;
Humans are analysts. &lt;br&gt;
We examine the good things we have, and&amp;nbsp; continue to find things
that are wrong with them. I know I do. And even if this generalization
isn't true for people, I know it's true for me. &lt;br&gt;
I recently learned that there was a large possibility that I was going to move to Lincoln, California. &lt;br&gt;
Great right?&lt;br&gt;
I finally get to live in a house, My room would be downstairs away from
the family. My friends and I could do whatever we pleased without being
too cramped.&lt;br&gt;
Right?&lt;br&gt;
But here comes the trouble:&lt;br&gt;
Moving schools.&lt;br&gt;
I've moved so often it's ridiculous. This is the longest I've ever stayed somewhere. Four years. Roseville. &lt;br&gt;
I'm shy. I'm awkward. Sometimes, when I first meet someone, it's hard,
because I'm not myself. I'm not even my real self when I'm with my
friends at times. It's hard to be myself. I don't open up fully, I'm
self concious and care too much. &lt;br&gt;
Being the new kid sucks for lack of a better word. &lt;br&gt;
You find yourself in a new environment, new faces, another chance to make a fool of yourself. &lt;br&gt;
What if I get lost?&lt;br&gt;
What if these kids don't like me?&lt;br&gt;
What if I'm different?&lt;br&gt;
The questions that take over your mind make you realize that you must
become one of these people. To be like them, a clone, so you don't have
to deal with the rejection you might get if you are yourself. That's
what has happened to me.&lt;br&gt;
I'm nothing special.&lt;br&gt;
I'm a bore. &lt;br&gt;
It's funny. Last night my mom took to asking me how I'd feel moving to
lincoln, our house would be built by September, meaning I'd start the
school year off at Lincoln High. &lt;br&gt;
Why was she asking me this? I wondered. Whatever I say, the actions I
do, won't matter. She's been wanting a house for years. Was an opinion
of mine going to stop her? Of course not. So I said, instead of being
the selfish brat that I am, I said to her; Sure. You deserve a house. &lt;br&gt;
Today, at Chili's with my dad, whom doesn't live with my mother and I, asked me how I'd like it.&lt;br&gt;
I said: No.&lt;br&gt;
"Are you scared?"&lt;br&gt;
"Yes."&lt;br&gt;
After that, I excused myself and walked to the bathroom, as I walked, I
felt the tears coming off of my chin. I hadn't realized I was crying. &lt;br&gt;
I cried into the sink of Chili's women's restroom. Wiped away my tears and came back.&lt;br&gt;
After we were done eating, we went to Lowe's to look for flowers to plant. Then to Costco, and finally to Barnes and Nobles. &lt;br&gt;
Once we were done my dad asked me why I was so sad. "No reason"&lt;br&gt;
"Do you want a cd?"&lt;br&gt;
"No thanks."&lt;br&gt;
I thought it funny that nowadays possesions can bring someone happiness. &lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
I've come to the conclusion I'm too emotional for my own good.&lt;br&gt;
I cry over little things.&lt;br&gt;
And I need to stop.&lt;br&gt;
I know, that soon, I'll look back on what I wrote in a few months, and laugh at the teenage phase I'm in.&lt;br&gt;
I'll say "Jeeze, I'm such a dweeb."&lt;br&gt;
And delete this journal or entry like I did my last.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
I need to chill out, I'm going crazy. &lt;br&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:compressedsound:384</id>
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    <title>compressedsound @ 2005-03-11T16:11:00</title>
    <published>2005-03-12T00:12:33Z</published>
    <updated>2005-03-22T09:09:46Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Panic at the Disco-Time to Dance.</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;font size="1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So, I decided it was time for a new journal. A clean start, and a new name.
Comment to be added k? &lt;br&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
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