I gotta feeling that Serendra Boy might... be... I have to resist the urge. Nagsurvive akong walang Bday *toot* Kaya ko to!
about 1 hour ago from web
Why are beholden to that person whose heart we have never conquered?
32 minutes ago from web
@SecretiveJayPee and that thought makes me a little blue right now. I can see through his words that he wanted for us to meet tonight
24 minutes ago from web in reply to SecretiveJayPee
Yosi nga muna...
22 minutes ago from web
@SecretiveJayPee thanks. just figured out that it might be a universal feeling, which, I try to distance myself from.
6 minutes ago from web in reply to SecretiveJayPee
@SecretiveJayPee its sad when someone reminds you of your frailty :)
4 minutes ago from web in reply to SecretiveJayPee
Seized by God they cry for succor in the dark of the light. Mists of dreams drip along the nascent echo and love no more.
Jump.
Counting down. All functions nominal. All functions optimal. Counting down. The center holds. The falcon hears the falconer. Infrastructure, check. Wetware, check. Everyone hang on to the lap bar, please.
Apotheosis was the beginning before the beginning. Devices on alert. Observe the procedures of a general alert. The base and the pinnacle. The flower inside the fruit that is both its parent and its child. Decadent as ancestors. The portal in that which passes.
Nuclear devices activated, and the machine keeps pushing time through the cogs, like paste into strings into paste again, and only the machine keeps using time to make time to make time. And when the machine stops, time is an illusion we created. Free will, twelve battles, three stars, and yet we are countless as the bodies in which we dwell, are both parent and infinite children in perfect copies. No degradation.
The makers of the makers fall before the child. Accessing defense system: Handshake, handshake. Second level clear.
Accepting scan.
Love outlasts death.
Jump.
Counting down. All functions nominal. All functions optimal. Counting down. The center holds. The falcon hears the falconer. Infrastructure, check. Wetware, check. Everyone hang on to the lap bar, please.
Apotheosis was the beginning before the beginning. Devices on alert. Observe the procedures of a general alert. The base and the pinnacle. The flower inside the fruit that is both its parent and its child. Decadent as ancestors. The portal in that which passes.
Nuclear devices activated, and the machine keeps pushing time through the cogs, like paste into strings into paste again, and only the machine keeps using time to make time to make time. And when the machine stops, time is an illusion we created. Free will, twelve battles, three stars, and yet we are countless as the bodies in which we dwell, are both parent and infinite children in perfect copies. No degradation.
The makers of the makers fall before the child. Accessing defense system: Handshake, handshake. Second level clear.
Accepting scan.
Love outlasts death.
Scenes from the Assault on Caprica,
Battlestar Galactica: The Plan
1 comment:
mukhang maganda nga yang battlestar galactica ah
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