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	<title>throw away love &#8211; A Year of Songs</title>
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	<description>music, memories, and microfiction from TK Major</description>
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		<title>I walked around the world</title>
		<link>https://ayearofsongs.org/blg/2006/10/11/i-walked-around-the-world/</link>
					<comments>https://ayearofsongs.org/blg/2006/10/11/i-walked-around-the-world/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[TK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 11 Oct 2006 13:25:00 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[acoustic]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[microprose]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[betrayal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sometimes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[throw away love]]></category>
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					<description><![CDATA[The Let Down. He didn&#8217;t see it coming. He thought he was happy. Maybe, even, in love. And for the longest time she seemed to be in love with him. In fact, he kept telling himself, there was no reason to think she wasn&#8217;t, still. So, why did he feel like it was inevitable? And, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<title>A thousand girls have told me so&#8230;</title>
		<link>https://ayearofsongs.org/blg/2006/08/26/a-thousand-girls-have-told-me-so/</link>
					<comments>https://ayearofsongs.org/blg/2006/08/26/a-thousand-girls-have-told-me-so/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[TK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 26 Aug 2006 03:17:00 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[acoustic]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[commentary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[essay]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[longing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[regret]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[She’d Be Mine]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[throw away love]]></category>
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					<description><![CDATA[They used to call me the bard of bitterness, denial, and regret. Well&#8230; it was kind of a one-liner I made up to put on my show flyers. But&#8230; you know. I think I mentioned sometime last year that a girl I&#8217;d once dated, early in our relationship, asked me to sing her a love [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<title>If I had time to count the lies&#8230;</title>
		<link>https://ayearofsongs.org/blg/2006/08/18/if-i-had-time-to-count-the-lies/</link>
					<comments>https://ayearofsongs.org/blg/2006/08/18/if-i-had-time-to-count-the-lies/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[TK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 18 Aug 2006 07:33:00 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[acoustic]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[microprose]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[casual betrayal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[duplicity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[lies]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Not One of Those Dreams]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[throw away love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trading up]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[transactional love]]></category>
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					<description><![CDATA[He lay on the bed, watching her. He was never any good at reading her. He never felt like he knew what she was thinking. He was drinking, once, with the guy she had gone out with before him. &#8220;Most people,&#8221; that guy had said with drunken conviction, &#8220;have a mask they hide behind. And [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<title>I tore my soul open&#8230; it was empty [Sometimes]</title>
		<link>https://ayearofsongs.org/blg/2006/03/21/i-tore-my-soul-open-it-was-empty-sometimes/</link>
					<comments>https://ayearofsongs.org/blg/2006/03/21/i-tore-my-soul-open-it-was-empty-sometimes/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[TK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 21 Mar 2006 05:08:00 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[acoustic]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[microprose]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[emptiness]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sometimes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[throw away love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[wanderer]]></category>
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					<description><![CDATA[He woke up in a motel in Yuma looking at a cockroach. He couldn&#8217;t remember exactly how he got there but he was pretty sure he didn&#8217;t have a truck, anymore. He fumbled on the bedstand under the imperious gaze of the cockroach, finally gripping his keys. Sure enough, the key to the Chevy was [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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