Thursday, August 30, 2007

Before the Ritual

Piper and Prue.

Leo and Paige.

9 comments:

  1. ito ba'y "friends and lovers" pair? hehehe! hmmmm... who agrees? bagay sila db? : )

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  2. just a thought, if those pictures were taken before the ritual... asan ang mga after the ritual? are those the ones posted in darklighter's blog? bwahahaha!

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  3. friends and lovers?...tantanan na prue!

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  4. i actually hate the way "leo" the orig leo distorted our pics, no offense meant leo wyatt! it just felt kinda creepy...weird ko ba? coz from what i heard lahat kayo natuwa, except me! right piper?

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  5. PAIGE... knowing leo a, you just have to take things in stride... it was a very friendly gesture, nothing to fuss about really. they think we make a good pair, and we probably do, but really, what matters is the choices we make for ourselves. our paths once crossed and they have crossed again this time, but it doesn't mean we should make the popular choice. we live our life the way we do, just because. and we should stand by our choices. i admire you for the ones you made for yourself, and if you feel those are the choices that you should stand up for, then do so, and i will admire you even more. cheers, paige!

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  6. oh, and great picture, paige! nice to see a face to go with the name. hehehe... maybe piper should consider doing the same.

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  7. leo serious??? i didn't mean about that...i was only referring to mere "literal" or physical distortion of our pics, i just felt uncomfortable seeing someone else's image on my face. no fuss about that now, totally!:)

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  8. hahaha! it seems i'm the one fussing over it now. hahaha! everything's cool.

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The Chronicler's Creed

Where there's water and sun, where there are friends to see or new people to meet, where there's something new to learn, experience, or do, where there's life, there I will be.

LA POESÍA

Y fue a esa edad... Llegó la poesía
a buscarme. No sé, no sé de dónde
salió, de invierno o río.
No sé cómo ni cuándo,
no, no eran voces, no eran
palabras, ni silencio,
pero desde una calle me llamaba,
desde las ramas de la noche,
de pronto entre los otros,
entre fuegos violentos
o regresando solo,
allí estaba sin rostro
y me tocaba.

And it was at that age... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I do not know, I do not know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I do not know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

- An excerpt from LA POESÍA (Poetry) by Pablo Neruda