<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970</id><updated>2011-07-08T02:43:31.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At First Light</title><subtitle type='html'>NECROLOGUE FOR WRETCHED EMOTIONS</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-1732558801399856922</id><published>2010-08-21T23:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T23:27:47.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring me my wine....and the head of the earth.</title><content type='html'>Crunch time. It's way too late to start but what choice do I have? I want to study something I like, do something I like. I want to be in town area on schooldays. I want to hold up my A level results slip and give the finger to everyone who said I couldn't do it, to yell "FUCK YOU" to everyone I want to do better than. I. Want. To. Be. Rich.  Selfish reasons? You all want the same thing. You just pretend you don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on, in tough times you realise who your real friends are. And I'm glad I have, though I almost stupidly threw one aside, having been tossed aside myself by several others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now see the reason why employers pick guys with good grades. Not because it means you're intelligent, of course not. But intelligence is difficult to quantify and doesn't show up in a resume. They want people whom they know can shut the fuck up and sit down 8 hours a day and mug their ass off for a paycheck, thats what they want. And with good grades you prove that you can indeed do that. Nothing else, but enough. I could say I refute this whole system and want out. But thats stupid too. What the fuck am I going to eat?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-1732558801399856922?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/1732558801399856922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/08/bring-me-my-wineand-head-of-earth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/1732558801399856922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/1732558801399856922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/08/bring-me-my-wineand-head-of-earth.html' title='Bring me my wine....and the head of the earth.'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-4395457782962812644</id><published>2010-07-12T01:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T01:55:49.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>..</title><content type='html'>I fucked up for pretty much every subject for mid term. I have to constantly suppress wrongful thoughts every single fucking day. But thats not the problem now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to learn to shut the fuck up when I'm not in the peachiest of moods. Or else I only end up hurting those I care about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-4395457782962812644?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/4395457782962812644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/4395457782962812644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/4395457782962812644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-post.html' title='..'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-2272724544222822537</id><published>2010-06-12T18:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T19:02:45.742-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'd kick my ass.</title><content type='html'>Yes I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend A is sad because her best friend just mentioned A's wayward sister in a conversation when A is always brought to tears by the thought and the last thing she would like to do is think about it some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: *tells me that shes upset by the above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh, so what happened with your sister?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fucking asshole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend B is having some major family problems(on top of the many many others) and confides in me. Now B has always been my confidante, and even silly little relationship woes, she listens attentively and offers her advice and support, never let me down before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I, her super good friend who cares about her so much, can't be fucked to reply her text because I was on the computer and my cellphone is charging in another room, its on silent mode and I don't walk over to check for an incoming text very often, even though Im perfectly aware that B and I are in the middle of an sms conversation. I only notice her last text when I go to remove the phone from the charger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuckin asshole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I'd kick my ass. I don't need to wonder if I'm a shitty friend, I'd tell anyone who said I wasn't to fuck off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-2272724544222822537?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/2272724544222822537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/06/id-kick-my-ass.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2272724544222822537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2272724544222822537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/06/id-kick-my-ass.html' title='I&apos;d kick my ass.'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-1555820958957419474</id><published>2010-05-10T01:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T02:28:09.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Done.</title><content type='html'>Making that decision was difficult as fuck. All the conditions were right (except the goddamn thing called A levels), yet I decided not to go ahead with it. Not due to studies, mind. Even if I do get into a relationship, there will still be things I put ahead of the other person. Who I am will never change, my beliefs, my actions, my manner of speech, the music which is such an integral part of my life. Never. Ergo, it isn't exactly fair to seek out a girl and demand she accept me for who I am. Unless the acceptance comes willingly, its pointless. But if it does, that is so fucking rare and I will never let her go. But til this magical person appears, I'm all by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt Parson's musicmanship and songwriting abilities are still blowing my mind, with DLP's release. Alas Tyranny's music has so many classical elements it hits my own sweet spot right on the head. Symphonic =/= Nightwish, its equivalent to Alas fucking Tyranny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-1555820958957419474?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/1555820958957419474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/05/done.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/1555820958957419474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/1555820958957419474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/05/done.html' title='Done.'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-4228695909976432957</id><published>2010-05-03T04:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T04:49:54.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where The Slime Live</title><content type='html'>Where The Slime Live&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where the slime live (They are the lowest forms of life)&lt;br /&gt;Where the slime breed&lt;br /&gt;(They make a new one too corrupted)&lt;br /&gt;When the wind blows&lt;br /&gt;(The winds of truth are blowing now)&lt;br /&gt;And the cradle falls....down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their poison fingers that wrote the poison lines&lt;br /&gt;Their poison lingers&lt;br /&gt;What a tragedy when their fingers are removed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where the slime live&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their burning dogma&lt;br /&gt;Introducing to our mind - lies&lt;br /&gt;They plot for the total control of the morals&lt;br /&gt;And what a tragedy when the "god-heads" are removed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They crawl, they breed, they hide but we see&lt;br /&gt;They burn&lt;br /&gt;I see the smoke of the funerals rising&lt;br /&gt;God lives in thier heads now laid to rest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a sight&lt;br /&gt;As their kingdom comes tumbling down&lt;br /&gt;We burn - the ones with contrite souls be gone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long gone are the filthy liars&lt;br /&gt;Long gone are their filthy lies&lt;br /&gt;I know they'll come again some day&lt;br /&gt;Where the slime live and how the slime gets washed away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Morbid Angel-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though Morbid Angel's lyrical themes are usually about Sumerian mythology, Babylonian Gods and the occult, it would make perfect sense if I threw these above lyrics into a song entitled say, "My Pre-U contemporaries", or in fact, any contemporaries throughout the stages of my life. No matter how old I get or how many people I meet, so many are uninformed, shallow, inconsiderate, bitchy, and worst of all, disloyal backbiters. Even people I don't know only seem to exhibit childishness, gossip-mongery, and utter idiocy. Sounds arrogant? Take a look around you. I can't stand having to be around so many people. I am in an almost trance-like state of mood, attending school only to get what I can out of lectures and quickly meet up with my actual friends, those who don't judge me without knowing me, those who accept me for who I am instead of being indignant that I don't change my nature to suit the environment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So whats the purpose of this post, more ranting about the state of society and the failure of the human condition? Yes. However, unlike the countless other rantings of this kind(of course there're a lot of em, given what there is to rant about), I have reached a logical conclusion. Instead of complaining about society and wishing it was different, I am perfectly fine with the status quo now. I'll just do my own thing no matter where I am, no need to wish things were different. But it tolerance =/= acceptance(sound familiar?) It still is a shitworld, I'm just going to make the best of things and keep an optimistic mood, something you wouldn't expect from someone as misanthropic as me, hm? Another point for the case of "Not Judging".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-4228695909976432957?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/4228695909976432957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/05/where-slime-live.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/4228695909976432957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/4228695909976432957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/05/where-slime-live.html' title='Where The Slime Live'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-3905009003069741190</id><published>2010-03-25T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T23:24:02.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love songs that don't suck</title><content type='html'>Been doing all the wrongs things lately, saying the wrong things to the wrong people. A large part of my personal life which I share only with very close friends(count em on less than 1 hand) was being spoken about by me to one of the above, and whoopdee fuckin doo, some holy-rolling motherfucker decided to overhear the whole thing, possibly causing some social complications regarding mutual friends. I should be worried, but (favourite phrase), I don't give a fuck. In less than a year, all this bullshit will be behind me. Graduating is like a brutal social selection pressure, wiping out all the unimportant people from my life, leaving only those whose friendships with me are strong enough to withstand the test of not going to the same lecture theatre, the same canteen, queueing up at the same stall. Just because we don't do this mundane stuff doesn't mean we get any more distant. Likewise, anyone who does these things with me on a regular basis isn't automatically considered a friend. It's utter crap when common activities seem to suggest friendship. They may help kickstart one, but that normally dies as fast as the average intelligence of a typical Singaporean teenager. You may consider me arrogant, and guess what, everybody is, I'm just confronting what we ignore, celebrating what we deny, and if you don't like that, fuck you, and fuck everyone who said you were smart because you had good grades, and fuck you again for thinking it a pedestal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 friends have fallen out with me again, even if temporarily, over the same bullshit thing of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. I've given up trying to mend things. If they stay pissed, let them, they're petty motherfuckers. If they don't, more power to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now with reference to post title. Lovelorn pop singles or "alternative" rubbish like david archuletta and the rest of the american idol hellspawn do not move me, they do not move anyone who isn't so superficial about love that they think LYRICS alone create an atmosphere, be it happy, sad, wistful, forlorn, torn, or confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O9gKVlN9DYE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marty Friedman - Hands Of Time       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, its not the lovelorn lyrics that make it good. No minor tonality either, its not supposed to be suicidal, only wistful and longing. every guitar line(as per friedman's signature) ends on an abrupt target note, way out of key and yet fitting in, creating an abrupt end to a pleasantly bittersweet melody, reflecting the lines "But if loving you means letting go, then I'll just turn and walk way". On the last line, it goes "But I'll never walk away" and accordingly, the inter-verse guitar fill ends on the major 7th(I think, my theory is terrible), completing the feeling of longing that it kept bringing about and yet cutting off.  Everyone throws around the phrase "music expresses what words can't", yet no one actually knows why this is so. Well, this is why it is so. Emo lyrics written by some skinny fucker in tight pants and a swoopy fringe can never evoke any feelings other than scorn, its music like this that evokes real emotions. I've listened to it 6 times, 7th time coming up in 4 seconds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-3905009003069741190?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/3905009003069741190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/03/love-songs-that-dont-suck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/3905009003069741190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/3905009003069741190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/03/love-songs-that-dont-suck.html' title='Love songs that don&apos;t suck'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-2556338430589998876</id><published>2010-01-23T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T18:17:55.581-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GRIND</title><content type='html'>I could rant about the state of the world, I could sink into a huge depression, I could commit ritualistic suicide just to see who would show up at my funeral. But I won't, despite the pressing temptation of the latter two. It's a sick world with sick people in it, and its always been that way. I guess expecting altruistic loyalty from people is way too much, and those who bothered showing up yesterday are a gift on their part and not something I should expect from them. A loyal friend is worth a thousand relatives, and to have these few, I am grateful. To those once loyal, I expected better but have learnt not to. Now grind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-2556338430589998876?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/2556338430589998876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/01/grind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2556338430589998876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2556338430589998876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/01/grind.html' title='GRIND'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-1045132236670490991</id><published>2010-01-15T05:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T05:47:58.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And so it happens again. "History never repeats itself, humans do" - Voltaire</title><content type='html'>Yes it does.  If you don't fucking enjoy speaking to him, then stop pretending to smile when he smiles. Stop pretending to say goodbye when you're glad to see him go. Friendship is something that shouldn't be taken lightly, least of all paraded around so you don't have to have an open argument. Don't like him? Tell him personally then fuck off.  This charade benefits no one unless you take some perverse pride in fucking around with people's sincere feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even innocent surfaces belie these wretched evils. Good is no more in this world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-1045132236670490991?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/1045132236670490991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/01/and-so-it-happens-again-history-never.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/1045132236670490991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/1045132236670490991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2010/01/and-so-it-happens-again-history-never.html' title='And so it happens again. &quot;History never repeats itself, humans do&quot; - Voltaire'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-143558667373863061</id><published>2009-10-06T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T09:41:49.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cold hate, but fury hotter than the 18th sub level of whorror</title><content type='html'>I am fucking incensed. People jump to conclusions way too much. You could say that I myself do, but hey I don't do anything else to hurt anyone, I just rant here. My sanity is collapsing in the face of all there problems but I refuse to break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may be totally false because I am assuming things, but then it could very well be true and I am disgusted at the implications of it being true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People consciously avoided me for a while, so be it. They stopped when they needed my help for something, so technically they were indebted to me even though I would never think of it like that, I don't render aid for the sake of receiving some back. Now that the false debt has been repaid I am being avoided again? So the period of not avoiding me was an attempt to shake of the imagined debt to me. Such hypocrisy was never expected from these persons, but if I'm right, you are repined bastards for this vulgar display of hypocrisy. I don't use the word "hate" lightly, but if my assumption is true, I hate you to a level of unimaginable degrees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm wrong, it's just a mind weary of blows from fate prepping up defenses against assaults that never came. I never want to be a product of my environment but it's permeating my mind and soul, seeping in ever so surely...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-143558667373863061?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/143558667373863061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/10/cold-hate-but-fury-hotter-than-18th-sub.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/143558667373863061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/143558667373863061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/10/cold-hate-but-fury-hotter-than-18th-sub.html' title='Cold hate, but fury hotter than the 18th sub level of whorror'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-2512144160143485123</id><published>2009-09-26T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T21:32:19.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Social Dissection</title><content type='html'>Not only is that the title of a pretty enjoyable EP, it also reflects my thoughts which have been in a whirlwind for Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parents of 2 friends, by way of their(the parents not them) behaviour, have made me appreciate mine a lot more. I hate it when my mom calls to ask where I am when I'm in the middle of my own business, but I should probably realize all she does is call, instead of insisting I come back home or bitching about me not picking up the past 3 times. Also, all the internal household battles I had to witness and sometimes get caught up in, are a thing of the past and I've made my peace with it, despite the horrible scars they undoubtedly leave behind.(figuratively, of course.) The criticism I so vemehently despised has mostly been replaced with soft encouragements and advice to take it easy. I really have it better than many in that department, I should really stop thinking the divorce situation makes my life so much worse than others. It was painful in the initial stages when no one was there but me, but hey, I emerged stronger as a result. And it's pretty good now. I'll hit myself if I complain again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for those 2 friends, I doubt you'll read this but if you are ever bored enough to, you've both got a friend who understands and will render any necessary assistance. Cheers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GP promo was relatively easy, especially next to the motherfucking "work" assignment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-2512144160143485123?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/2512144160143485123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/social-dissection.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2512144160143485123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2512144160143485123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/social-dissection.html' title='Social Dissection'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-7478027146680495265</id><published>2009-09-22T04:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T04:21:11.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drawing Down The Moon</title><content type='html'>Listening to this amazing piece of work by those silly silly musicians. Beherit are awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example of how little wankery there is in black metal : I learnt to play The Gate Of Nanna in 1 listen. Getting a satisfying tone is another matter altogether. My amp sucks major dick. It's a little practice amp so I shouldn't complain too much about not getting a grim and frostbitten sound out of it but it's still fucking annoying. When I move out, a good amp will take precedence over a sofa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will not complain about studies, everyone does that. Will instead play some guitar to relieve stress before plunging in again. Will eat a Subway cookie even though dinner is about 2 minutes away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Called down to CMB for a stupid fucking reason today, waste of goddamned time and cabfare. This is what every male here above 19 means when he says "army cock up".  Maybe somebody SHOULD make a half-assed invasion attempt on Singapore just to shake things up. Our neighbour across the sea would be perfect. Efficiency attained, and we get to slaughter lots of them and call it war so that makes it all right. Then we don't have any more fucked-in-the-head situations like the one I went through today, and our friends go back to caning people who drink beer. Oh I'm sorry, am I pissing someone off? Think of an imaginary dish to invent, then file a complaint for me to duly ignore. As a sign off, FUCK YOU, fuck your chefs/cooks/whatever, and fuck everything they've ever made.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-7478027146680495265?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/7478027146680495265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/drawing-down-moon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/7478027146680495265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/7478027146680495265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/drawing-down-moon.html' title='Drawing Down The Moon'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-3139869769882913553</id><published>2009-09-09T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T22:16:24.885-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jupiter</title><content type='html'>Listening to The Planets by Gustav Holst. Jupiter and Mars in particular are incredible, mind blowing epics. This was the Manowar of the classical era, like Wagner was probably the Black Sabbath of his time. Some people say it's pretentious to listen to classical music and attempt to link it to heavy metal, but I don't give 2 shits, good music is good music. Po-po-po-po-poker face...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather lonely now. Solitude is rather enjoyable, especially while listening to Jupiter: The Bringer Of Jollity, calming, majestic piece. But having someone to share it with would make it even more special. I think I've long moved past the stage where you try to get a girl just cuz she's hot and you can show her off to your friends. Girls who don't at least like to listen to good music or are too airheaded to even have a basic conversation about intelligent topics are a huge-turnoff. I guess I just want someone I can share thoughts with intimately and intelligently. Sigh...... maybe I should persuade some dudes I know to have a sex-change xD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classical mood is over, since no one's home I will proceed to blast some Kreator and hopefully get in an hour of economics. Kreator first. \m/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-3139869769882913553?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/3139869769882913553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/jupiter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/3139869769882913553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/3139869769882913553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/jupiter.html' title='Jupiter'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-155165001239214610</id><published>2009-09-09T02:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T02:40:39.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok I lied</title><content type='html'>With the stress level coming to an all-time high it's suicidal for me to cut off an avenue of venting frustration/hate. I always thought that if I was going to kill myself it would involve some evil magick rituals to cast the anguish in my spirit(duh, otherwise why would I kill myself) outwards to the rest of the world and let them feel the pan of someone else's suffering. But I think now if I were to go through with the act it'd be just a kitchen knife into the throat. Wrists bleed too slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst part about cramming enough content to last 3 O levels into my head is that I wouldn't have to do it so bad if I hadn't been slacking off the first part of the year. Maybe I should have taken A maths. Maybe I should have gone to an arts course. My internal voice would then say "Hey, but you got too meet some cool people by choosing bCME, right?"&lt;br /&gt;Actually, the treatment I've been receiving from a few of these people isn't exactly warranting me thanking my lucky stars that I've met them. Know 2% of me and judge the rest. If there ever were a social pulpit, they're on it. K not all, just some. That it doesn't make it acceptable. I don't even want respect, just courtesy. Humanity today....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even now, once-good friends are seeming to trail off. Don't know what I've done, but it certainly did nothing to harm anyone. Maybe it's just this fucking exam mentality of the fucking institute that is driving some of those mentioned to act coldly towards people who merely want social interaction with those they consider friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-155165001239214610?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/155165001239214610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/ok-i-lied.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/155165001239214610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/155165001239214610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/ok-i-lied.html' title='Ok I lied'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-8413598117495384486</id><published>2009-09-04T18:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T18:40:13.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last post til after exams. Boo ya.</title><content type='html'>I am at Sanity Obscure's myspace page now, shall post some short thoughts. "Dethrone The King" is quite midpaced, goes with the heaviness thing they got going on for that song, but really, they could use a dual guitar attack, the riffs kinda lack depth/body, not much for the listener to bite into. Like a lot of sauce and fries(technicality, tempo changes), but the steak(RIFFS man, RIFFS) is a bit too small. Being unique is one thing, but it's better to improve than to try and be different from people. Gotta love the Kount's vocals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D-beat and crust punk is awesome. "Ohhhhhh, ohh ohh, ohh ohh, ohh ohhhhh". - The Casualties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will post no more til after exams. Seriously, at 17, one is expected to have some form of discipline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Idea is settled, will write fanzine for music after promos. A good one. I always felt zines had to have this balance between stuff like terrorizer(informative but way too much -core in it for its own good) and kvlt fanzines(ramblings of some recluse with little info about any music besides his own iPod playlist). Metal Maniacs had that balance. I'll aim for the same. Anyone interested contact me(I know I won't get any responses from you nonsense people)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be back after exams. Til then, CYFAWS. &lt;----ask me if you don't know that relatively famous acronym.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-8413598117495384486?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/8413598117495384486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/last-post-til-after-exams-boo-ya.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/8413598117495384486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/8413598117495384486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/last-post-til-after-exams-boo-ya.html' title='Last post til after exams. Boo ya.'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-5163341049318429668</id><published>2009-09-03T01:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T05:28:16.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Escalate The Pestilence</title><content type='html'>Crouching over my stereo eating cornflakes with milk while bleeding my ears to some good old Impiety, weird. Listening to a substantial amount of heartland metal lately. A lot of local music ranges from barely tolerable to utter shit but there are a few gems, and there is a tiny but dedicated fanbase I guess. The rest of Singapore downloads music and quarrels about it on Stomp forums. Quaint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Aside from the obvious Impiety and Abhorer, Heidon, Xanadoo, AotS, Ironfist, Oshiego, Helvette/Sect Insanabilis(see Triumvirate:Coalition Of The Despised, the 3 way split with Exetheris). This is good Singapore music. Not some "indie(yeah right)" musicians who write freakin national day songs. Am in the process of writing reviews for them on metal-archives, but gotta grab some of their shit first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I guess this whole post has got to be about music. Metal and accessibility shouldn't go in hand. It wouldn't be the same if it was popular. I listen to good music first and foremost, but one of the bonuses of metal is knowing how evil, disgusting, unholy and noisy it is for outsiders. That's where being a nondenominational christian and knowing more about it than most sunday schoolers is so fun, scaring them with these lyrics. Honestly, people are disturbed by this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well what do you know, someone already got disturbed enough to mention it to me. Hence I've taken lyrics down, but wow, you people, wow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-5163341049318429668?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/5163341049318429668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/escalate-pestilence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/5163341049318429668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/5163341049318429668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/09/escalate-pestilence.html' title='Escalate The Pestilence'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-3759677010323192502</id><published>2009-08-31T03:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T03:27:44.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Opeth it is.</title><content type='html'>After listening to Opeth's Soldier Of Fortune(Ritchie Blackmoore cover), I have decided to see them. Still Life was an incredible album, that cover reminded me of what good musicians they are, and how it would be a shame to miss them. That is, if they're coming at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vYixpbff9Y"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vYixpbff9Y&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song is beautiful. Recommended for most fans of....any music lol, it's Deep Purple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St Pats!! Got boring after a while though. Missed the whole concert, shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange. I am actually running out of inner turmoil that needs release. Blogging does help. But not in an AA way, that is being a fucking attention whore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a fucking headache, thanks to the noisy l4d bastards. Shooting enemies? Don't give me that, it's like they're writing that name on a wall with bullet holes, fucking noisy cunts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-3759677010323192502?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/3759677010323192502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/opeth-it-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/3759677010323192502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/3759677010323192502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/opeth-it-is.html' title='Opeth it is.'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-1561097526888553746</id><published>2009-08-28T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T22:23:31.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>INNO A SATANA</title><content type='html'>$77 for Wrath Of The Tyrant, In The Nightside Eclipse, and Live Inferno. I've always had this impression that live albums have this significant drop in quality, but Live Inferno sounds even better than the album quality, sometimes. The atmosphere is different, but the sound is still killer. I didn't show much enthusiasm at Hells's lab but I was close to passing out with glee, Emperor is my favourite bm band of all time and Ihsahn is a genius. Synth-hating purists, FUCK YOU!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have yet to meet the dude who is supposed to sell me that Leviathan compilation. His prices are a lot cheaper than my usual guy though, so that's a plus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considering switching concert decision. I love Sepultura and all, but it's like seeing Behemoth without Nergal and Inferno. Maybe I will go for Opeth after all, if it's true. Ack, I dunno, promos hold more weightage now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice time for my PW ST to fall sick, now all the EoMs have to be relooked at. Good? Maybe, but it will mean a lot more effort. Still had to help a friend with her own EoM since her ST's a dick and won't look at it. Glad to help, just doubting the whole "if you are in MJ your PW will get A" shit the school keeps bragging about(directly or indirectly, same difference).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got yelled at for not using "proper attire" to play in the hall. I would've retorted but I can't be bothered to break such simple points of view down, no one who speaks to me like that is worth the effort of an explanation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-1561097526888553746?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/1561097526888553746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/inno-satana.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/1561097526888553746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/1561097526888553746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/inno-satana.html' title='INNO A SATANA'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-4470311336653833255</id><published>2009-08-27T04:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T05:12:44.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I heart St Pats</title><content type='html'>Teacher's day St Pats return, nice. I feel a little guilty for not attending 416's thingy, but it'll be a little awkward if everyone shows up, methinks. Oh well. Get to see everyone again, SHOULD I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I will finally stop sitting on my EoM and just do it. If SPA is worth so much effort, EoM which has about half it's weightage deserves at least a partial fraction of that effort. After using long division to make it proper. Fuck me, that's a terrible joke. But fuck you for agreeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chrystal is such a joke. Yes joke. People who are enthu enough to pay attention already have enough resilience to last them 5 A levels. People who don't, well you can see how it's useless. Ergo, screw chrystal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to learn to do a melodic scale. Playing it normally sounds horrendous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Study room&gt;canteen. Realised that when Shiqi, Walter and I used it on wednesday. Only thing missing is my coffee. What's that? I'm an ahpeh? FUCK YOU. Today PW, for some reason only I had seen the TaiChi Master previously. Ahpeh? FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOOOOOU.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-4470311336653833255?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/4470311336653833255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-heart-st-pats.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/4470311336653833255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/4470311336653833255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-heart-st-pats.html' title='I heart St Pats'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-8987232936553218767</id><published>2009-08-25T03:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T04:04:01.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When I Come Around</title><content type='html'>Let's talk about compulsory charity shall we. What a goddamn oxymoron in itself. I understand the need to fill quotas and hence gave my bit to fill it, but being criticised for not giving more, what the flying fuck??! How can you attach the word charity to this anyway? I gave a dollar to some busker at the interchange today, THAT is charity, not the dollar I gave to prevent some holes in accounts. Some people really have a miniscule world view, or at least give that vibe off through their actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Green Day has such a terribly scene image, which works better on depressed kids with purple fringes and erectile dysfunction coming from those stupid drainpipes trousers. Old stuff is good music though, so I keep it playing. This brings me to something else: Pop-punk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Punk is about anti-establishment. Pop is about sucking the balls of the establishment's radio stations so as to get airplay. Pop-punk is therefore discarded as a legit genre. Music-wise? Meh, give me The Casualties over Blink 182 any day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend is not speaking to me and has not been for awhile. I'd ask why, but then this must have been for a good(from their point of view) reason so I'm not going to push it. Reminds me of another friend's situation, but this "another friend" is desperately in love with the one who's avoiding him. Me, I just(hopefully temporarily) lost a friend :/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-8987232936553218767?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/8987232936553218767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-i-come-around.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/8987232936553218767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/8987232936553218767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-i-come-around.html' title='When I Come Around'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-2576232551607433176</id><published>2009-08-22T06:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T06:47:47.319-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mattp is a brilliant musician.</title><content type='html'>http://www.soundclick.com/player/single_player.cfm?songid=7944881&amp;q=lo&amp;newref=1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to this and you will agree. With nothing but a guitar, guitar pro and his throat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last GEM practice occurred a day ago. Relieved? Sad? More like "So what am I going to do on random mornings or wednesday/friday afternoons?" Especially friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoo ray, my crush is not actually a crush, according to Bryan-who-lives-in-Bryan. It was laughed off by the object of it too, so it's all cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sepultura is coming to Singapore. Brilliant. No breakdowns for the silly deathcore wiggers, even better. I liked the Soundcrusher gig very much because of the complete lack of scene kids working out their "issues" in their ninja pits. To every single wigger who thinks a fringe, tight pants and parkway drive is cool, don't come to Sepultura show please, k thx bai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opeth? Iunno, don't really listen to them on a frequent basis. Might not be worth the huge price tag that it will inevitably come with. We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will not whine about studies, everyone does that. Will brag about PW productivity instead. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Yes, A. Fuck you, A.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-2576232551607433176?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/2576232551607433176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/mattp-is-brilliant-musician.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2576232551607433176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2576232551607433176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/mattp-is-brilliant-musician.html' title='mattp is a brilliant musician.'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-2064379635605604555</id><published>2009-08-17T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T04:22:43.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing is stronger than the will of one(cont)</title><content type='html'>Does a person really need a set of values put down by other people to live his life by? Does he not have his own beliefs to stand by? People are supposed to be sentiant, meaning they have free will, and should not submit before the will of others, then they might as well be beasts. Even beasts instictively rebel and fight against a dominating force. More food for thought and then some. Man is unique that he has sentiance and free will, and this should be cherished above all else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another point is about logic. No one ever has and no one ever will come close to proving even a hint of the existance of a deity or god, ever. And the stupid thing is that people keep trying. Are people supposed to believe in god because it is scientifically proven that there is one? And they call themselves people of "faith". Others attribute everything from simple conincidence to outright deliberate actions to god in an attempt to bolster their(probably weak) faith. "I annointed my car and it sold for 20k more, look at the power of God!!". So christians are now in it for the money, nice. "Good things happen, it's a blessing. Bad things happen, it's a test." "Good stuff comes from god, bad stuff comes from satan". So they trying to use all these things to prove their faith is correct? How hypocritical. The whole point of having such a religion is faith, to believe no matter what, not try to prove it's correct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having said all that I have still kept to my own beliefs without fear, despite the criticism I receive from atheists, satanists and christians alike. But the above is still interesting to consider, no?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-2064379635605604555?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/2064379635605604555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/nothing-is-stronger-than-will-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2064379635605604555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2064379635605604555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/nothing-is-stronger-than-will-of.html' title='Nothing is stronger than the will of one(cont)'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-6221942914023466412</id><published>2009-08-14T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T09:13:19.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The creation of the divine is a failure of the human spirit.</title><content type='html'>Food for thought, isn't it? After having another talk about religion and spirituality with Walter I decided to post some of the thoughts I have always had about the matter, but felt too nice to unload it on someone, thus crushing their little world if they cannot rationalize it for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Divine Failure", by Absence Of The Sacred puts these thoughts across pretty nicely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Practicality does not involve fervent prayer, for my actions speak louder than your words". Food for thought indeed. Does praying with all your heart for something really do more for the matter than actually doing something about it? The rebuttal usually consists of the praying participants saying "it doesn't directly help, it also calms oneself and gives one confidence in the matter". Counter argument: Is one's spirit so weak that your own self confidence is insufficient?" This also begs the question: "Why do people still believe in deities in an age where almost everything can be scientifically explained?" This using the widely accepted assumption that religion was created in the ancient days where people were unable to explain things like geysers or eclipses. Now that there are relatively fewer unexplained occurances(almost none in fact), is there still a reason to ape these millenia old beliefs, hoping it will somehow better our lives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"From the fear of death an illusion is born". More potent food for thought.Isn't this the main reason for most people to have their belief in something which can never be proven to be real. Here's another interesting quote, "there're no atheists in the foxhole". Before death, even the staunchest atheists find their faith, JUST IN CASE there actually IS a god. So religious people can technically be classified as people who are have bought insurance a little earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will continue in the next post, rather sleepy now. Bass section in GEM has FINISHED our part, yes finished. Boo ya&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-6221942914023466412?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/6221942914023466412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/creation-of-divine-is-failure-of-human.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/6221942914023466412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/6221942914023466412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/creation-of-divine-is-failure-of-human.html' title='The creation of the divine is a failure of the human spirit.'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-8892127510942316078</id><published>2009-08-04T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T08:50:45.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Mother Dear Father</title><content type='html'>Dear mother &lt;br /&gt;Dear father &lt;br /&gt;What is this hell you have put me through &lt;br /&gt;Believer &lt;br /&gt;Deceiver &lt;br /&gt;Day in day out live my life through you &lt;br /&gt;Pushed onto me what's wrong or right &lt;br /&gt;Hidden from this thing that they call life &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear mother &lt;br /&gt;Dear father &lt;br /&gt;Every thought i'd think you'd disapprove &lt;br /&gt;Curator &lt;br /&gt;Dictator &lt;br /&gt;Always cencoring my every move &lt;br /&gt;Children are seen bur are not heard &lt;br /&gt;Tear out everything inspired &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Innocence &lt;br /&gt;Torn from me without your shelter &lt;br /&gt;Barred reality &lt;br /&gt;I'm living blindly &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear mother &lt;br /&gt;Dear father &lt;br /&gt;Time has frozen still what's left to be &lt;br /&gt;Hear nothing &lt;br /&gt;Say nothing &lt;br /&gt;Cannot face the fact i think for me &lt;br /&gt;No guarantee,it's life as is &lt;br /&gt;But damn you for not giving me my chance &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear mother &lt;br /&gt;Dear father &lt;br /&gt;You've clipped my wings before i learned to fly &lt;br /&gt;Unspoiled &lt;br /&gt;Unspoken &lt;br /&gt;I've outgrown that fucking lullaby &lt;br /&gt;Same thing i've always heard from you &lt;br /&gt;Do as i say not as i do &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Innocence &lt;br /&gt;Torn from me without your shelter &lt;br /&gt;Barred reality &lt;br /&gt;I'm living blindly &lt;br /&gt;I'm in hell without you &lt;br /&gt;Cannot cope without you two &lt;br /&gt;Shocked at the world that i see &lt;br /&gt;Innocent victim please rescue me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear mother &lt;br /&gt;Dear father &lt;br /&gt;Hidden in your world you've made for me &lt;br /&gt;I'm seething &lt;br /&gt;I'm bleeding &lt;br /&gt;Ripping wounds in me that never heal &lt;br /&gt;Undying spite i feel for you &lt;br /&gt;Living out this hell you always knew&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lyrics for Dyers Eve - Metallica&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found these lyrics rather striking. My parents are only guilty of a few here, but the lyrics could refer to parents in general who are dickheads and treat their kids real miserable. I emphathise with such people even if they don't share it openly. I am rather perceptive, knowing if people are talking about me behind my back, if people are unhappy about something, if people are avoiding me, etc etc. This is no exception, I can usually tell if people's parents are assholes. It sucks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a shitload to do for PW, hopefully can clear some of it at tomorrow's meeting.&lt;br /&gt;CCA, same story. If SLs do show up then maybe things can progress faster. I really feel sorry for Nikki ;/. Not as if he hasn't got enough on his plate. Everyone should really work harder -.- I mean cmon, you can play guitar while you stare at people's facebook pictures...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Typical teenage problem: love/crush. Again. Fuck my life. As if I don't have enough to do already. No I don't intend to do anything but it's fucking annoying to have that feeling nonetheless. I'm like a goddamn 13 year old, shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-8892127510942316078?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/8892127510942316078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/dear-mother-dear-father.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/8892127510942316078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/8892127510942316078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/dear-mother-dear-father.html' title='Dear Mother Dear Father'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-2035190581022420411</id><published>2009-08-02T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T08:23:34.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Bad Company, til the day I die..."</title><content type='html'>Been relistening to a slew of old rock n roll recently, that my dad used to play in the car. Reminds me of a happier childhood, where the hardest problems in school involved figuring how to divide 6 bananas among 3monkeys equally. Bad Company, Rainbow, Eagles, CCR, Blue Oyster Cult, Mr Big, Elton John, etc etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a study schedule and am attempting to follow it, let's see how long it takes me to lose track. Isn't it depressing that a 17 year old has this little discipline? Fuck...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parent teacher thing didn't go as bad as I thought, didn't help that Mr Choong my GP tutor gave some negative feedback for my CT to give my parents. Good part? "Oh he has potential to do well in GP". Fuck that. I'll make something clear now, every fucking person in the world has the "potential", human brains aren't that different in terms of stored potential, it's whether that fucking brain is used or not. So being told you have "potential" isn't a fucking compliment, it's just people saying you AREN'T a complete retard. Whoop-dee-fuckin-doo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Album(s) listened to: Follow The Reaper - Children Of Bodom, Kill Em All - Metallica&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-2035190581022420411?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/2035190581022420411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/bad-company-til-day-i-die.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2035190581022420411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/2035190581022420411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/bad-company-til-day-i-die.html' title='&quot;Bad Company, til the day I die...&quot;'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-1482678081697066190</id><published>2009-08-01T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T09:19:44.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Soundcrusher @ House of Rock, Tanglin Shopping centre.</title><content type='html'>Despite being ditched twice, I enjoyed the gig quite a lot. Or at least, whatever I saw of it. Meltgsnow was entertaining enough, Ironfist and AotS were great. I still owe Mike $2 lulz. Slightly aching neck but I had a good time. Took my mind off a lot of shit, too bad that shit is now back in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't really practice bass at home, used normal git and learnt some green day off what I can remember from those sec 1 days when I would listen to nothing but Dookie and International Superhits. That helped my bruised self esteem somewhat. Still miffed though. "Cuz you know where I'll be found, when I come around...". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparantly the person who argued with me on facebook and I have a rather familiar mutual aquaintance. Someone wants to meet me, size me up it seems. Whatever. The "scene" matters nothing to me, the music does. I felt rather misunderstood by the whole online arguing issue, but I've discarded it by now. Strike one shitty feeling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-1482678081697066190?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/1482678081697066190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/soundcrusher-house-of-rock-tanglin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/1482678081697066190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/1482678081697066190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/08/soundcrusher-house-of-rock-tanglin.html' title='Soundcrusher @ House of Rock, Tanglin Shopping centre.'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-648804378831894970.post-8666554236119475508</id><published>2009-07-31T08:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T18:27:15.900-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First post.</title><content type='html'>This is not a daily catalogue bullshit thing, just emotions which need venting, and yet can't be translated into grim and frostbitten riffs.About the background, I think it represents those feelings which need vent quite accurately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll start off. 2 friends who were supposed to attend a gig with me tomorrow backed out. For the 2nd/3rd time in a row respectively. They have their reasons and I don't blame them but it's a shitty feeling nonetheless, I was really looking forward to it. I didn't ditch my sec 4 classmates to go to a gig alone(and ended up not going anyway, missed seeing Heidon). This just contributes to the overall loneliness bout I've been going through recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, CCA. The only thing I look forward to in school(besides friends or whatever) just got terrible. Ok it didn't get terrible, I got terrible. For someone who feels pretty good when he tabs out a song in his head via hearing, I spent 3 hours of practice to learn TWO PAGES. Hoo-fuckin-ray, Mr I-don't need-tabs can't play the most simple bassline in the world without being taught how to. Best part? Can't practice at home using normal classical git, because I can barely read sheet music and usually learn by tabbing it out in my head. So what, buy an acoustic bass? Nope. Just be pissed at my musical illiteracy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last of all, parent-teacher meeting tomorrow, awesome. "Bryan's got to work harder". Whatever, I already am, and it would help if people weren't breathing down my fucking neck all the time to make sure of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this on top of all the shit that's been piled on me since I was 8. Fuck the world and most but not all of the people in it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/648804378831894970-8666554236119475508?l=at-first-light.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/feeds/8666554236119475508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/07/first-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/8666554236119475508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/648804378831894970/posts/default/8666554236119475508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://at-first-light.blogspot.com/2009/07/first-post.html' title='First post.'/><author><name>I Throw Bolts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035576073352698747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
