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		<title>Jean-Luc | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/JeanLuc</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Jean-Luc</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Shakespeare's last tragedy</title>
			<description>If I said - Here, try my life,the past and present, rampant and rife.Would the damage done - the pain, the fear -be in thought though subconsciously,ever so clear.Would you do as I, burdened by such pressure,seek escape through a high, hopefully end life's pleasure.If you would do as I, then your kn..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JeanLuc/2113173/</link>
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			<title>Our lives </title>
			<description>&quot;It's a strange thought, that this will probably be the last world war fought by civilians&quot; - How we won the warHow incredibly sad it is, to realize, acknowledge and understand what this statement is implying. What is sadder still, is I see no fault or misconception in this statement.&amp;nbsp; The ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JeanLuc/1962916/</link>
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			<title>Thoughtless rantings </title>
			<description>Sinking, slipping, slithered tripping. Melting receptors and brainwave connectors. Would I trade all of this, Standing at the precipice. Longing to be treated as a soulful hydrocephalus. A swell within lifes senselessness, This wreckage lacks true recklessness. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JeanLuc/1889952/</link>
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			<title>Soul symptoms </title>
			<description>If we are unable to coincide with one another, Why do we insist on creating unsubstantial  bonds,Where failure and disappointment is the only viable outcome.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JeanLuc/1889931/</link>
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			<title>Unknown existence </title>
			<description>The name is not important if the story is untrue,just as my existence has been nothing but for you, you ungrateful sack of bones, a worthless trouble at my side -what the f**k was I imagining when I made you my bride.Was it shame or pure old pity, in the face of certain ache,that I stumble..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JeanLuc/1883228/</link>
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