<?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="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/BlogRss.aspx/poet_prophetess3187"><title>through my darkest hour - Blogit</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/poet_prophetess3187/</link><description>on having bi polar disorder.</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="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/poet_prophetess3187/694865" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/poet_prophetess3187/694865"><title>summer of 1997</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/poet_prophetess3187/694865</link><description>it was probably one of the darkest nights i had that summer. two years earlier i had lost a good civil service job with the city of los angeles and had gone on a bi polar manic bender ending up in my car picking up hitch hikers up near santa barbara driving north. i don't remember a whole lot of...</description></item></rdf:RDF>