<?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-5983158980157420433</id><updated>2011-07-30T10:16:56.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Contemplations on the Verge of Insanity</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>caerberu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16653123026233028958</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_9PoEDn-_p4I/SDbps3qc1gI/AAAAAAAAAGU/o3PEreT4O_c/S220/Image021.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5983158980157420433.post-3983230434923098128</id><published>2009-06-18T10:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T10:22:33.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Down</title><content type='html'>There are times when I really feel so down. I try desperately to push myself further. To not give up. To grab on to any reason I could find to just continue living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not know whether my reasons are pathetic. I do know that to me, those reasons are very real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selfish? Maybe I am. I'm self-centered. Worrying only about how I feel. Knowing only the anguish that it is in me, the frustration, the pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to find my worth. Try to convince myself than I am part of this world, this society, these people... But I am always an outcast. That is the fear that has been engraved in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rejection. Discrimination. Being seen as unclean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no kind words. No pure gestures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only sigh... And blame myself. Blame the world. Hate the people dear to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5983158980157420433-3983230434923098128?l=contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/feeds/3983230434923098128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5983158980157420433&amp;postID=3983230434923098128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/3983230434923098128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/3983230434923098128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/2009/06/down.html' title='Down'/><author><name>caerberu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16653123026233028958</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_9PoEDn-_p4I/SDbps3qc1gI/AAAAAAAAAGU/o3PEreT4O_c/S220/Image021.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5983158980157420433.post-4072361428327089834</id><published>2008-10-17T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T00:44:28.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Non-Existence of Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There is no time&lt;/span&gt;. What is time? It is merely a measurement of motion. A day is merely the one full rotation of the earth. A year is merely one full revolution of our planet around the sun. There is no time. There is only motion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is something that we cannot move back, because in the first place, there is no time. If we had the power to reverse the revolution of the earth around the sun by thrusting it the other way around, that would not change anything. That would not rewind events on our planet like a video played from end to start. It would simply move the earth the other way around and screw up our mathematical equations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we slowed down the speed of revolution of the earth around the sun, would that slow time too? If we used the same mathematical equations, apparently yes, but only under the false assumption that the same values for those mathematical equations would hold true. But they wouldn't. The values would change. Yet nothing, in reality, will change. No slowing down of events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is the measurement of motion. When that motion stops, it doesn't mean that time  (or reality, for that matter) stops. It only means we have to find some other consistent form of motion to measure time by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In reality, there is no past, present, or future that we can jump to or jump from, then decide to go back to later. We can only do that in our memory. There only IS. And IS. And IS. There is only the NOW. In reality, there is no linear connection, or a line that branches to many lines to map out all the possibilities. In reality, there only is a single point. The now. The linear connection, or the branching of many lines that represent the possibilities exist only in our memories. Whatever we think of, even if it's of the future, it exists only in our memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The only way you can move back through time is in illusion&lt;/span&gt;. Consider this scenario. The moon is a couple of seconds in light speed away. That is, it is a couple of light seconds away. If you peeked through a powerful telescope and someone waved from the moon to you (on earth), then it would take a couple of seconds before you'll see that he is waving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, imagine placing yourself on a far galaxy right now, millions of light years away and looking through a very very powerful telescope to watch earth. You would see earth the way it was a million years ago! The same way that you would see the light of a star even if it was long dead, you would also see the events even though they were long past. If it is at all possible to travel faster than light, and if there is such a powerful equipment that could see clearly in the light years of distance, then it might be possible to reconstruct the history of the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this sense, light holds the data. In a manner of speaking, light holds the memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let's take another scenario. Imagine that you do have the power to travel exactly at the speed of light. Imagine yourself traveling away from the earth, while facing the earth and looking through a powerful telescope. You would then see a still picture of the earth. The picture would remain the same as long as you travel at the speed of light. That's because if you're traveling at exactly the speed of light, then you would see the same light particles. Similarly, a friend from the earth looking at you would see a still image of you until you slow down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this, there is no such thing as being preserved, or your life being prolonged when you travel at the speed of light while other people who remain stationary age and die.  It is because the preservation, or the stasis, is only apparent. It is only in illusion. It is only in what we see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the same way that we still see a star that has died a long while, we will also see the same person traveling at exactly the speed of light still apparently young and alive, when in reality, the person has already aged and maybe even died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Back to the past&lt;/span&gt;. Now, imagine moving away from the earth at FASTER than the speed of light. What would the earth look like to you then? It would look like the events are being played in rewind!!! You would be looking at the world unfolding backwards. The farther you are away from the earth traveling at faster than light speed, the farther you go into the earth's past!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this does not mean that you are traveling backwards in time. It only means that you are looking at the particles of light that holds the image of the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Conclusion&lt;/span&gt;. There is no preservation or stasis when traveling at the speed of light. There is no such thing as time travel to the past. Maybe if you found a way of preserving yourself, then you could consider it as time travel to the 'future'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5983158980157420433-4072361428327089834?l=contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/feeds/4072361428327089834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5983158980157420433&amp;postID=4072361428327089834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/4072361428327089834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/4072361428327089834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/2008/10/non-existence-of-time.html' title='The Non-Existence of Time'/><author><name>caerberu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16653123026233028958</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_9PoEDn-_p4I/SDbps3qc1gI/AAAAAAAAAGU/o3PEreT4O_c/S220/Image021.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5983158980157420433.post-6629753742404390989</id><published>2008-10-11T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T00:03:10.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Facing Demons | Don't Tell Me To Do Anything</title><content type='html'>Another one of my demons is the don't-tell-me-to-do-anything demon. I hate being told what to do. I can take things easier if it's said as a suggestion, or if it's put in a question. Still annoying, but those are simpler to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for bluntly telling me what to do, I'll probably kill you for it. That's how I feel, especially if the one speaking is not really an authority. I don't try to be authoritative over other people, especially if they are friends or acquaintances, so I expect others to do the same. It's a different thing if I'm given the task of leading over them. Or they were given the task to lead over me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5983158980157420433-6629753742404390989?l=contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/feeds/6629753742404390989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5983158980157420433&amp;postID=6629753742404390989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/6629753742404390989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/6629753742404390989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/2008/10/facing-demons-dont-tell-me-to-do.html' title='Facing Demons | Don&apos;t Tell Me To Do Anything'/><author><name>caerberu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16653123026233028958</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_9PoEDn-_p4I/SDbps3qc1gI/AAAAAAAAAGU/o3PEreT4O_c/S220/Image021.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5983158980157420433.post-5047331662498846623</id><published>2008-10-04T08:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T09:23:51.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Final Secret | The Memory Book</title><content type='html'>I have this theory that, unlike what the majority of believers may believe, the Harujian Bible is not the truth. That is, it is the search for truth. It details the thoughts and lives of people, their realizations of countless minds. Therefore, it is not the truth, but only the truth that we have so far. It is our memory, as our mind is the memory. But the mind is fickle and frail, and oral tradition is also fickle and frail. That is why the Harujian Bible is written in stone, so that it may transcend time. So that the memories remain even when the writer is long dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being only a temporal truth, it is our duty to carry the weight of searching for the truth onward.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5983158980157420433-5047331662498846623?l=contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/feeds/5047331662498846623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5983158980157420433&amp;postID=5047331662498846623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/5047331662498846623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/5047331662498846623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/2008/10/final-secret-memory-book.html' title='The Final Secret | The Memory Book'/><author><name>caerberu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16653123026233028958</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_9PoEDn-_p4I/SDbps3qc1gI/AAAAAAAAAGU/o3PEreT4O_c/S220/Image021.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5983158980157420433.post-3885176220847610672</id><published>2008-10-04T07:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T08:46:53.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Proof ot the Existence of a Kind God | The Creed of the Harujahs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Proof of a Kind God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Modification of the Golden Rule, The Creed of the Harujahs, Based on the Unification of Time (The First Book of the Travelers of Twilight: The Dark Side)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do unto others what is good for others, taking into account that every creature, no matter how similar, is different in ways that cannot be measured. Therefore, do unto others what is good in their own standards, provided the standards are one of truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each lives in his own truth. It is the truth, even if it is just for the moment, if with sound judgment it is what we arrive at given all that we know now, and all that we are capable of understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until we arrive at the ultimate truth, or prove that the truth we have right now is indeed the ultimate truth that connects all, then move, with compassion and understanding and awareness that we are all different. Move to protect what we know as the truth, however temporal it may be, for it is the only truth that we know of. Do so, until we find the ultimate truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this, all sin is renounced. For each, whether sinner or saint, lives by his own truth. The truth of sin is past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For such judgment to possibly exist, a judgment which is fair and unbiased... Then this is the proof that there is a loving, caring god who watches over us all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This knowledge is the deadliest knowledge of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Heaven and Hell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell exists for those who know these truths and yet abuse them. Heaven opens to those who know these truths and live by them. Heaven and hell are the burden of those who ate of the Tree of Knowledge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5983158980157420433-3885176220847610672?l=contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/feeds/3885176220847610672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5983158980157420433&amp;postID=3885176220847610672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/3885176220847610672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/3885176220847610672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/2008/10/proof-ot-existence-of-kind-god.html' title='The Proof ot the Existence of a Kind God | The Creed of the Harujahs'/><author><name>caerberu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16653123026233028958</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_9PoEDn-_p4I/SDbps3qc1gI/AAAAAAAAAGU/o3PEreT4O_c/S220/Image021.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5983158980157420433.post-8254860689939766737</id><published>2008-10-03T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T09:22:39.267-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Facing Demons | Better Than You</title><content type='html'>(to be editted, thoughts and ideas are still raw)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I want to be better than others too much. It's something I carried over from my childhood. Always seeking to be good in the eyes of others. To be recognized, to be praised. I lived with that, I loved it. The attention, the respect, the way people less than you look up to you, and the way people greater than you recognize you. I was the center of the universe. I still am, though I may have become better at hiding it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being better than others isn't always a pleasant experience. It makes one distant, different, an outcast. Being better than others in many different skills, that's even worse. It's hard to live with a person who tries to be good at everything. It's hard to live with a person who's better at most things than you. It's hard to live with someone like me who tries and acts so hard to be better. I've felt the same way towards some people like that. So I know how it must feel for some of the people around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, before I knew it, I was competing with this person... And caught myself doing it. I don't want to compete anymore... Not in that way. I just want to be me. To aim for my own goals. To measure myself mostly by myself, and not based on others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5983158980157420433-8254860689939766737?l=contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/feeds/8254860689939766737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5983158980157420433&amp;postID=8254860689939766737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/8254860689939766737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/8254860689939766737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/2008/10/facing-demons-better-than-you.html' title='Facing Demons | Better Than You'/><author><name>caerberu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16653123026233028958</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_9PoEDn-_p4I/SDbps3qc1gI/AAAAAAAAAGU/o3PEreT4O_c/S220/Image021.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5983158980157420433.post-8706783510002339645</id><published>2008-10-01T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T09:33:51.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Facing Demons | Anger and Frustration</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, I feel I should take anger management classes. It's not that my anger goes so high and I get out of control. It's actually the opposite. Now that I think about it, I think I need an anger RELEASE class, if such a thing even exists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hold the anger in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a part of me that remembers everything a person does against me. And I mean everything. Something that happened years ago would just suddenly come into my mind, and I could feel it as if it happened right that moment. The feelings are still fresh, the wounds are still open. Not even time could heal them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may be natural to have grudges like that, but to have so many...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I had a dream. I felt so frustrated in that dream. I felt so angry. I hit the walls over and over again with my hand, yet my blows come too slow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shatter things in my dream. Just destroy. Damage. Hurt. There's so much anger in me... And this is not the first time I dreamed such a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm frustrated that I am frustrated. I'm angry that I have so much anger. It feeds on itself. It grows, gnaws at me, kills me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can keep control of my reactions. I can take it all in. You can give me a blow, and I won't say a word about it. But I will remember it. And I will kill you in my dreams. I will shatter you in my thoughts. And maybe the next time, I will be able to smile at you. I won't hurt you, no. I can always keep control of my reactions. But the time might come that I'll snap, and the next thing you know it won't be me. I'm actually afraid for you, when that time comes. I'm afraid that that time will come. Sometimes, I come too close to crossing that line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate feeling like I'm a victim. I know deep inside that I am responsible for those moments that make me feel I'm a victim. One can only be a victim when he allows himself to be a victim. And I've allowed that to happen. It's my fault, in a way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for those, and I will be responsible for not being a victim again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5983158980157420433-8706783510002339645?l=contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/feeds/8706783510002339645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5983158980157420433&amp;postID=8706783510002339645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/8706783510002339645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5983158980157420433/posts/default/8706783510002339645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplationsonthevergeofinsanity.blogspot.com/2008/10/facing-demons-anger-and-frustration.html' title='Facing Demons | Anger and Frustration'/><author><name>caerberu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16653123026233028958</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_9PoEDn-_p4I/SDbps3qc1gI/AAAAAAAAAGU/o3PEreT4O_c/S220/Image021.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
