<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rdf:RDF xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#"><channel rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/BlogRss.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519"><title>THE MEMORY BOX - Blogit</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/</link><description>Things that go bump in the night...</description><sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase>2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/255743" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/253295" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/253294" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/225660" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/225658" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/255743"><title>It was the beginning of my end ...</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/255743</link><description>So I was young and stupid – Aren’t we all at times? I still remember being crumpled on the floor in the fetal position, hyperventilating. The few days prior to arriving back at my mother’s house were the markings of a somewhat adventuresome but highly distressing youth. I had just turned eighteen...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/253295"><title>I DON"T REMEMBER</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/253295</link><description>I don’t remember a single day that my father, outta the blue, came over to give me a big hug. I have always wanted him to do that. He hasn’t been there for me all that much. I always wondered what it would be like to have a father like Jen's. A man, who seems to care about his children, wants to...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/253294"><title>SUMMER RAIN....</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/253294</link><description>The echoes of distant thunder and call of loon induce sensations of calm, serenity and aloneness. The lake is picture-still and the grumbling skies awaken. I am alone, not in the sense of empty and afraid but in the sense of forever with myself. I am transported to a time of childhood and...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/225660"><title>THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT.....</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/225660</link><description>I wonder sometimes if our memories are real. They can be so vivid and so long lasting, they must be real. Two Ton Eddie and Drabik have to be real or I've made them up somehow. How could I have made them up when I wasn't the only one who remembered them? How could anyone forget Two Ton Eddie and...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/225658"><title>SCARS DON"T HAVE TO BE SEEN TO BE FELT ...</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Dark_Dreamer5519/225658</link><description>I'm not sure why I'm reminded of the belt when it's almost Christmas but the memory is there and it's contradictory. I see Xmas as a happy time or it's supposed to be but at the same time you better be good because if your not, there's always the "belt". Goes to show you that "you better be good"...</description></item></rdf:RDF>