<?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: Forever Young</title>
	<atom:link href="http://blog.onlydragons.com/2009/12/15/forever-young/feed/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>http://blog.onlydragons.com/2009/12/15/forever-young/</link>
	<description></description>
	<lastBuildDate>Mon, 08 Feb 2010 18:06:38 +0000</lastBuildDate>
	<generator>http://wordpress.org/?v=2.9.2</generator>
	<sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod>
	<sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency>
		<item>
		<title>By: Linda</title>
		<link>http://blog.onlydragons.com/2009/12/15/forever-young/comment-page-1/#comment-51</link>
		<dc:creator>Linda</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 24 Dec 2009 01:36:44 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blog.onlydragons.com/?p=199#comment-51</guid>
		<description>My crazy Dude. You always amaze me at the philosophical side of you. What is existence? Is it life, death, a body, soul, life after death? That is the real question. 
 
What is the real definition of young? Is it young at heart, in body, soul, mind, pr something we mere humans cannot grasp? 
 
The answers are as individual as each human is . It is all based on the way the individual perceives themselves as humans. Humans are unique but uniqueness is the way we each see ourselves within , time-space, the world we can touch/feel, the world of our imagination,  the universe, our beliefs whether taught or experienced.. 
 
Being young is what you define young as. We can read all the books on medical, psychological or philosophy we want. It all boils down on how we perceive ourselves.  </description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>My crazy Dude. You always amaze me at the philosophical side of you. What is existence? Is it life, death, a body, soul, life after death? That is the real question. </p>
<p>What is the real definition of young? Is it young at heart, in body, soul, mind, pr something we mere humans cannot grasp? </p>
<p>The answers are as individual as each human is . It is all based on the way the individual perceives themselves as humans. Humans are unique but uniqueness is the way we each see ourselves within , time-space, the world we can touch/feel, the world of our imagination,  the universe, our beliefs whether taught or experienced.. </p>
<p>Being young is what you define young as. We can read all the books on medical, psychological or philosophy we want. It all boils down on how we perceive ourselves.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
	</item>
	<item>
		<title>By: pjfbncyl</title>
		<link>http://blog.onlydragons.com/2009/12/15/forever-young/comment-page-1/#comment-50</link>
		<dc:creator>pjfbncyl</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 20 Dec 2009 22:33:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blog.onlydragons.com/?p=199#comment-50</guid>
		<description>Mick Says: 
A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead. </description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Mick Says:<br />
A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
	</item>
</channel>
</rss>
