<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss version="2.0"
	xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"
	xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"
	xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"
	xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/"
	
	>
<channel>
	<title>
	Comments on: hello, i&#8217;m a poem	</title>
	<atom:link href="https://iwilldare.com/2002/03/hello-im-a-poem/feed/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>https://iwilldare.com/2002/03/hello-im-a-poem/</link>
	<description>A little bit of heaven &#38; A whole lot of hell</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Tue, 30 Oct 2007 02:34:11 +0000</lastBuildDate>
	<sy:updatePeriod>
	hourly	</sy:updatePeriod>
	<sy:updateFrequency>
	1	</sy:updateFrequency>
	<generator>https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.1</generator>
	<item>
		<title>
		By: I am..... I just am.		</title>
		<link>https://iwilldare.com/2002/03/hello-im-a-poem/#comment-3679</link>

		<dc:creator><![CDATA[I am..... I just am.]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 19 Mar 2002 05:51:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://iwilldare.com/?p=1604#comment-3679</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Making no impact on the rest of the world whatsoever.  One person really knows me and loves me, I think, but sometimes it feels like its not enough.  Only the vine keeps me from sitting in the basement staring at my old computer, instead staring at this one.  I feel like my death is just around the corner, as if I&#039;m eighty years old and I&#039;ve been expecting it for some time now.  I look at my hands and I see the wrinkled rakes of a spinster.  I&#039;m 22.  anchored.  tethered.  but unhappy.  the physical world keeps dragging me down and sucking me in and the spirit world calls to me but I am too fragile to answer I feel.  what is this?  what is this?
]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Making no impact on the rest of the world whatsoever.  One person really knows me and loves me, I think, but sometimes it feels like its not enough.  Only the vine keeps me from sitting in the basement staring at my old computer, instead staring at this one.  I feel like my death is just around the corner, as if I&#8217;m eighty years old and I&#8217;ve been expecting it for some time now.  I look at my hands and I see the wrinkled rakes of a spinster.  I&#8217;m 22.  anchored.  tethered.  but unhappy.  the physical world keeps dragging me down and sucking me in and the spirit world calls to me but I am too fragile to answer I feel.  what is this?  what is this?</p>
]]></content:encoded>
		
			</item>
	</channel>
</rss>
