<?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-256963705701622093</id><updated>2011-12-20T03:44:10.634-08:00</updated><category term='iubire'/><category term='vise'/><category term='mare'/><category term='viata'/><category term='dor'/><title type='text'>Slabiciunea gandului...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>95</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-8022426958535757121</id><published>2009-12-28T14:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T14:30:34.540-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Girls of Summer</title><content type='html'>Cand ne e dor de vara...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TmE3K3yJops&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TmE3K3yJops&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-8022426958535757121?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/8022426958535757121/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/girls-of-summer.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8022426958535757121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8022426958535757121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/girls-of-summer.html' title='Girls of Summer'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-9218931865353118811</id><published>2009-12-28T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T14:26:18.363-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>19 decembrie.</title><content type='html'>Dimineata, frig, singuratate si o gara... pustie. Ceasul e uitat... in buzunar. Gerul iti ingheata gandul de a te mai uita la el. Si astepti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astepti sa ajunga la tine toate visele si bucuriile pe care ti le puteai dori. Dar... doar astepti. Minte e plina de intrebari ale caror raspunsuri nu le mai ai de ceva vreme. Si te doare singuratetea mai mult ca orice strapungere a inimii. Te doare...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa cateva minute, te trezeste din starea de durere... cineva ce anunta trenul. Atentia e sporita. Nu vrei sa afli de o intarziere sau poate o amanare... asa ca iti concentrezi si ultimul gand. Totul e bine. Trenul va sosi in statie la linia 2 in 5 minute. Te linistesti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Privesti in jur nepasarea lumii si mirosul de iarna iti patrunde si mai adanc in plamani. Zapada ti-a udat deja pantalonii, iar fata-ti e inghetata. E o imagina friguroasa, stranie si desarta... Nu iti place. Dar astepti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fata ta se opreste trenul. Trenul plin de vise. Alergi dupa o intrare, iar cand pasesti si incerci sa te ridici realizezi ca picioarele sunt inghetate, sunt rupte de realitate. Le tragi dupa tine si ajungi in compartimentul tau. E deja plin. Iti alegi cu atentie scaunul si privesti in gol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Privirea se indreapta catre puncte fixe. E neclinita. Tot ce se aude e doar trenul ce-si urla batranetea. Langa mine o batrana... sta la casa, in oras. E fericita. Se duce la nepoti. In fata ei, un batranel. A vizitat lumea-ntreaga si povestete... In fata mea un domn asculta, iar uneori isi mai arunca privirea catre ochii mei pierduti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu ma sfiesc si ascult discutii si povestile celor mai invarsta. Sunt in trenul viselor mele, dar nu mai vreau sa ascult ganduri, asa ca... le ascult pe ale lor. Pe chipuri li se zareste varsta, dar sufletul... e adolescent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Discutia se sfarseste. De ce? Nu stiu, m-am pierdut pe drum. Dar privesc pe geam... Imi mut privirea fara motiv. Ce zaresc?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... o mare de ninsoare. Suntem intr-un submarin ce ne poarta prin mare. E superb. Totul alb, neatins si intr-o forma speciala. E mai frumos ca niciodata... iar soarele e sus. Ne vegheaza...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peisajul e nemaipomenit. Toata lumea e fermecata de peisaj si nu mai poate vorbi. Trenul se opreste... e ultima statie inainte de finala. Pe chipul meu se zareste un zambet...Plimbarea cu trenul viselor s-a sfarsit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... agitatie, in jurul meu si iar mi-am amintit de gandul meu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-9218931865353118811?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/9218931865353118811/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/dimineata-frig-singuratate-si-o-gara.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9218931865353118811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9218931865353118811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/dimineata-frig-singuratate-si-o-gara.html' title='19 decembrie.'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-4691810537780195772</id><published>2009-12-13T06:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T06:35:26.454-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stelute lingusitoare</title><content type='html'>Au trecut deja 2 zile. Nu imi dau seama daca gandurile mele s-au schimbat sau doar am inceput sa trec peste. Am observat ca nimeni nu ma mai crede. Nimeni. Ce inseamna? Ca nimeni nu ma cunoaste sau doar ca nu mai am incredere in mine? Nu stiu, dar tot ce imi doresc e ca ploaia cu gandurile mele sa plece, sa fuga, sa se indeparteze. Doar atat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A inceput vacanta. Am asteptat-o mai mult ca niciodata si am inceput-o intr-un mod mai special... Dar toate trec... pentru ca timpul, timpul e ucigasul perfect. Asa ca... Viata are grija de noi si de ea. Ca doar... e majora, nu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si cum vine vacanta, vine Mos Craciun, vine Revelionul... vine si Examenul de Oral la Romana. Si cum toate vin treptat... ma gandesc la cadoul pe care ar putea sa-mi aduca mosul anul acesta. Pentru inspiratie am ascultat celebra melodie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZqIMh4wNyD0&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;rel=" color1="0x402061&amp;amp;color2=" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-4691810537780195772?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/4691810537780195772/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/stelute-lingusitoare.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4691810537780195772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4691810537780195772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/stelute-lingusitoare.html' title='Stelute lingusitoare'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1313940463156510845</id><published>2009-12-13T05:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T06:07:28.327-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Fulgi...</title><content type='html'>- Caut oferte pentru revelion.&lt;br /&gt;- Vroiam sa te intreb ce ai mai facut, dar banuiesc ca esti ocupat.&lt;br /&gt;- Ocupat cu scoala.&lt;br /&gt;- ... eu ziceam in general.&lt;br /&gt;- Poate, putin. Tu ce ai mai facut?&lt;br /&gt;- Gramatica. Economie. Si fetele...&lt;br /&gt;- Tot timpul?&lt;br /&gt;- Uneori astept sa ma suni.&lt;br /&gt;- Am mult de plata.&lt;br /&gt;- Daca ai vrea... ai putea.&lt;br /&gt;- Sau poate nu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"We had a bed for love and now there’s just a bed for two…"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Vreau sa fi cum nu ai mai fost de cateva luni.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Cum?&lt;br /&gt;- Sincer cu mine si cu relatia noastra. Poti?&lt;br /&gt;- Nu stiu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Poti sau nu?&lt;br /&gt;- Da.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Noi doi mai suntem sau nu impreuna?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Nu, nu prea...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Merci pt sinceritate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Te pup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Nu, azi nu-l vreau. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Ce?&lt;br /&gt;- Sarutul. Pupicul. Ce a fost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Realizezi ca e foarte greu sa fim impreuna?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Stiu. Dar sunt sigura ca nu ti-a trecut nici macar o secunda prin minte ca peste o luna facem 4 ani, nu?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Poate nu ma crezi, dar pentru mine insemi foarte mult.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Atunci... ai cazut intr-o melancolie irecuperabila. Era ciudat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Nu fi suparata. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Nu sunt, nu am de ce.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Trebuia sa se intample intr-un fel sau altul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Acum ceva timp am retrait pentru un weekend timpul in care eram noi...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Sigur ca a fost frumos... Sper ca nu suferi... sau ceva de genu asta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Nu sufar, nu sunt suparata. Doar putin melancolica. De ce? Imi ruleaza filmul nostru. Are subtitrarea in romana, sper sa nu tina mai mult de 2 ore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Despartiti suntem, doar ca acum constientizam. Despartirea s-a produs lent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Sti bine ca tu vei fi mereu prima iubire...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Si stii ca reciproca e valabila. Si orice ar fi, orice s-ar intampla voi fi alaturi de tine intr-un fel sau altul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- ... da.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Eu ma intind putin sa citesc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- La revedere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Te pup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Filmul nostru l-as vedea din nou,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;din pacate nu-i pe video."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1313940463156510845?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1313940463156510845/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/fulgi.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1313940463156510845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1313940463156510845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/fulgi.html' title='Fulgi...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-2500327504723706103</id><published>2009-12-13T05:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T05:39:52.797-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Iubire.</title><content type='html'>4 * 12 = 48&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48 - 1= 47.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47 * 30= 1410.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414710295310526434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 260px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SyTqU0GiZ-I/AAAAAAAAAOs/7U-dXuIDr2E/s320/ziua-indragostitilor1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Doar 1410 de zile am fost cu tine...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-2500327504723706103?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/2500327504723706103/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/stropi.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2500327504723706103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2500327504723706103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/stropi.html' title='Iubire.'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SyTqU0GiZ-I/AAAAAAAAAOs/7U-dXuIDr2E/s72-c/ziua-indragostitilor1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3528900673409358259</id><published>2009-12-12T13:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T14:19:57.692-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Russian girl</title><content type='html'>Au trecut deja doua saptamani de la plecarea noastra in excursie. Ne-am intors, ne-am zambit si fiecare s-a intors in propria casa. Dupa un drum de 9 ore... am dormit o noapte si o zi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar inainte de asta... a fost plecarea. Intalnirea a fost la 9, dar cum toate incep cu o intarziere la 9:30 eram la iesire din oras. Drumul a fost lung, autocarul mic, viteza medie si muzica tare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arieseni. Munte, frig, cabana, caldura. Am intrat in camera ce avea sa fie a noastra pentru 5 zile. Am privit-o si am zambit. Ne-a placut din prima clipire. Am analizat-o si am decis locurile in paturi. Dupa despachetarea bagajelor, dusul si schimbarea pentru Petrecerea in Pijamale le-am aratat fetelor... fericirea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era rosie... lunga si bine impachetata. Nu a trecut un moment si in jurul meu erau 4 pahare intinse deja pline cu suc. Am ciocnit pentru toate viitoarele noastre realizari. Am ciocnit pentru toata lumea si toate visele noastre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dimineata, oboseala se citea pe fetele noastre. Dar... cu mult efort am plecat la Cascada. Erau 3 km de noroi, frig si aveam sa aflam ca vine ploaia. Am mers usor aproape 2 km cand eu si A am decis sa ne retragem. Nu avea rost. Ochii mei se inchideau cate putin cu fiecare gura de aer trasa in piept. Privirile noastre cereau o gura de cafea. Asa ca am plecat in cautarea ei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar ce sa gasim. O cabana inchisa si una cu o masa de lemn si... poate fara cafea. Am renuntat si i-am asteptat in frig si ploaia pe colegi. Eram cuminti, ascunse dupa autocar, cand i-am zarit. Dupa mini-excursia la cascada am plecat la o pestera neiluminata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era ora 14 si eram deja in cabana. Timpul a trecut repede, iar seara am avut un mini-chef cu colegii. Am dansat toate genurile muzicale pana cand ne-am decis sa ne retragem in camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dee a trebuit sa plece. Ne-a parasit pentru cateva ore... A avut parte de o mica petrecere. Am uitat de plecarea ei si am mai gustat din fericirea noastra. Am dansat, am tropait, am varsat cola pe podea si am mancat lamaie. La ora 2 Dee nu ajunsese si deja devenisem ingrijorate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Povestirea lui Dee ne-a tinut in picioare inca o ora. Ne-a placut sa zarim pe fata ei urme de fericire provocata de un el. Dar stiam ca fericirea noastra e mai profunda si mai dulce-acrisoara. Numarul 23... noroi si saruturi dulci vs Rosu, lamaie si vise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In ziua urmatoare am fost la Pestera Ursilor. Am privit-o cu atentie, iar in mintea noastra rula un film, in care protagonistele eram noi 4, pestera, fericirea si un strop de muzica. Ne-am imaginat o mica petrecere in acea pestera, dar din pacate au fost doar vise...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In acea seara toate au fost usoare. Ne-am culcat devreme, sucul natural se terminase, iar totul era pe minus. Dar nu ne faceam griji, aveam sa plecam in Cluj ziua urmatoare, asa ca nu ne lipsea nimic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am plecat in Cluj. Am vizitat mall-ul, de unde ne-am luat cadorile, apoi ne-am grabit spre Cetatuie. E frumos, dar gerul ne-a gonit. Asa ca am ajuns in Centru... am facut poze sub jeturile de apa si cu Omul de Zapada, pe care l-am vazut si la stiri...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am intrat intr-un bar, in care am stat 10 minute sa ne decidem ce sa ne comandam. Toate au fost atat de bune, incat si acum am apa in gura cand ma gandesc. Nu era chiar genul de bar in care vroiam sa intram, dar norocul... Nu era nici macar genul de bar potrivit cu hainele noastre. Dar... dar nu ne-a interesat. Eram noi si restul era doar restul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inapoi la mall. Am cumparat fericire, bomboane si tot ce nu am vrut sa luam cu noi la plimbare. Am uitat sa precizez ca Fericirea se Cumpara. Am fost punctuale ca de fiecare data, dar bineinteles ca am asteptat... aproape 30 minute. Dar nu ne-a deranjat. De ce? Eram prea obosite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In ultima seara am sarbatorit-o pe Dee. Cate un pic, pic, pic.Fericire...&lt;br /&gt;un pic mai intepator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 Decembrie. Alba Iulia. Noi? La masa. Spaghete intr-un restaurant plin de fum si cu scrumiera pe care scria cu rosu:" Fericire". Ne-am facut ultimele poze. Am platit si ne-am indreptat catre autocarul ce avea sa ne duca acasa...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3528900673409358259?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3528900673409358259/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/pic-pic-pic.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3528900673409358259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3528900673409358259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/pic-pic-pic.html' title='Russian girl'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3546759416042243668</id><published>2009-12-09T10:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T10:39:07.717-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>... cu parfum de iarna.</title><content type='html'>Cine a decis ca data de 13 este una ghinionista? De ce nu azi este o data ghinionista? Sau norocoasa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa o zi in care simti ca toate s-au intors impotriva ta, cand nimic nu iti iese si cand nu ai timp nici sa respiri... exact atunci cand tu crezi ca e cea mai ghinionista zi. Exact atunci datele problemei se schimba, se transforma si fiecare lucru mic, marunt, neinsemnat prinde viata, prinde un val, prinde un zambet pe buzele tale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai observat ca dupa o zi stresanta si agitata vine un moment de liniste si de libertate interioara?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azi, dupa o teza, un film, un drum de 30 minute si o pregatire la gramatica m-am intors acasa. M-am "plimbat romantic" si singura pe strada ce ne anunta venirea Craciunului, am admirat noul brad, cuprinsa de mirosul ce iesea din casutele de lemn. Eram obosita, mergeam lenes, muzica urla, dar eu nu auzeam nimic. Cuvintele treceau pe langa mine sau eu pe langa ele. Erau doar niste stalpi de iluminat ce ma trezeau la viata din moment in moment. Mersul meu era robotic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Privirea mea cuprinsa deja de oboseala nu putea fi aruncata decat inainte. Si ma pierdeam in starea de amorteala... cand in fata mea un cuplu. Ea frumoasa, el inalt. La prima vedere era doar un cuplu obisnuit, fara sa ma impresioneze. Dar dupa cateva momente am ajuns in dreptul lor. Atunci am observat diferenta... pe chipuri se citea dragostea si sinceritatea. Erau frumosi impreuna. Si parca se desprindeau din paginile de basme. Radia fericirea si formau o aura ce nu putea fi incalcata. Plutea un aer de iubire, unul cum de ceva vreme nu am mai intalnit. Aveau privirea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... privirea pierduta in infinit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M-am ascuns iar in gandurile mele. As fi vrut sa gust si eu din fericirea lor, dar mi-am continuat drumul geloasa pe iubire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3546759416042243668?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3546759416042243668/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/cu-parfum-de-iarna.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3546759416042243668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3546759416042243668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/cu-parfum-de-iarna.html' title='... cu parfum de iarna.'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1967149346117056771</id><published>2009-12-06T10:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T10:49:50.158-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Politist, adjectiv</title><content type='html'>Azi, o zi obisnuita, in care tot ce am auzit a avut macar o mica legatura cu votul. Dar printre toate stirile despre Alegerea Presedintelui si-a facut loc si emisiunea "Romania, te iubesc." Au avut un interviu despre Corneliu Porumboiu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Politist, adjectiv:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/05OtVEXGT0g&amp;amp;hl=" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" fs="1&amp;amp;rel=" color1="0x402061&amp;amp;color2=" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu te parasesc iubire... iubire, nearticulat inseamna iubirea ideala.&lt;br /&gt;Definim iubirea prin simboluri... marea--&gt; infinit, soarele--&gt; lumina, campul--&gt; nastere si creatie, floarea--&gt; frumusete, iar imaginile devin simboluri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E pur si simplu definitia iubirii.Nimic mai mult, nimic mai putin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi place foarte mult scena.Nu stiu de ce, dar mi se reproduce in minte din primul moment in care am auzit-o...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1967149346117056771?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1967149346117056771/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/politist-adjectiv.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1967149346117056771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1967149346117056771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/12/politist-adjectiv.html' title='Politist, adjectiv'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-967157971181772349</id><published>2009-11-26T12:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T12:25:32.515-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>10 ore</title><content type='html'>E trecut de ora 10. Tocmai am inchis bagajul. Totul e gata. Sunt pregatita de drum, de excursie... Sentimentul ciudat inca nu a trecut si din cate imi dau seama nu sunt singura, insa vom trece peste tot cu bine. Sunt sigura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Undeva... departe.&lt;br /&gt;Cand totul doarme.&lt;br /&gt;Soarele rasare.&lt;br /&gt;Ne vede-mpreuna.&lt;br /&gt;Dar nici el... nu mai poate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In ultima camera... e inca liniste.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-967157971181772349?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/967157971181772349/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/10-ore.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/967157971181772349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/967157971181772349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/10-ore.html' title='10 ore'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-96333740375489564</id><published>2009-11-26T02:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T12:10:09.417-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Simplu gand</title><content type='html'>E joi... deschid ochii inainte de a suna ceasul si o zaresc pe mama agitata. Nu s-a intamplat nimic, doar nu isi gaseste bluza potrivita. Aprinde lumina si acum sunt sigura ca ultimele minute de somn s-au dus. Nu ma pot ridica. Sunt lipita de pat, dar mama a observat ca m-am trezit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi ureaza o dimineata buna si in cautarile ei gaseste cateva haine de care eu uitasem. Si intr-o voce prea neplacuta pt dimineata imi spune sa le arunc si pe acestea in bagaj. Nu le vreau asa ca mintea mea nu face nici macar un gest pentru a ma mobiliza. Dupa cateva minute raman singura in casa. Arunc privirea spre ceas si realizez ca mai aveam de dormit o ora, dar acum...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma ridic, in cele din urma. Bagajul e deschis si aproape terminat. Ii arunc o privire pierduta. Nu imi inspira mai mult decat o simpla componenta din camera mea. Ajung in faza unei cafele fierbinti, indulcita exact cat trebuie si cu mult lapte. O ador... nimic nu e mai frumos dimineata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plictisita si fara chef imi arunc castile in urechi. Nu sunt atenta la ce canta... si imi amintesc ca imi e dor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maine am sa plec. Unde? Departe... De ce? Eu il numesc banchet... Nu stiu defapt ce e. Nici macar nu stiu cu cine e? E cu toata clasa sau doar cu prietenele mele? Nu stiu... dar am o teama constanta si ciudata. Nu e una reala... e o teama a gandurilor mele plictisite si scarbite de matematica. Nu vreau sa plec atat de negativista de acasa, dar nu stiu ce e cu mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La inceput mi-am dorit aceasta mica excursie. Era prilejul perfect de a iesi din rutina si de a pleca... oriunde, doar departe sa fie. Insa acum ma simt ciudat... plecarea imi provoaca doar o privire pierduta in gol. Nu stiu la ce sa ma astept. Si nu stiu daca ar trebui sa ma astept la ceva, dar cel mai clar e faptul ca maine plec. Maine la ora 8 ma voi urca in microbuz si ma voi indeparta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... de mine, de tine, de oras.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-96333740375489564?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/96333740375489564/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/simplu-gand.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/96333740375489564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/96333740375489564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/simplu-gand.html' title='Simplu gand'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-5655687078733915258</id><published>2009-11-24T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T11:39:38.427-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>... infinit II</title><content type='html'>Linistea noastra... Daca as intreba-o pe D. ce a insemnat linistea la majorat ea sigur mi-ar spune ca nu a vazut-o prin preajma. Eu... nu stiu ce sa spun. Linistea venirii invitatiilor a fost una productiva si foarte buna. Inca nu stiu daca privirile lor socate erau din cauza camasii ce trona inca pe mine, sau ochii mei le spuneau de micul nostru secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa venirea lor a venit si cadoul. Au fost 2 pachete foarte mari... chiar ar putea tinde spre foarte mari. Le-am deschis entuziasmate... ne-am bucurat, am glumit si ne-am pozat... Zambeam... si eram fericite. Pana cand... nu am mai fost fericita, ci socata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ce? Pentru ca am auzit acele cuvinte, care m-au dat pe spate (nu ca ar fi greu sa cad de pe tocurile acelea.): "Cadoul tau cel mai important iti transmite&lt;em&gt; La multi ani!&lt;/em&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am fost profund impresionata ca au incercat sa vorbeasca cu "cadoul meu nevenit". Am ramas putin socata pentru ca chiar au incercat sa faca asta. Stiu ca a fost ideea mea si tocmai pentru ca le-am spus nu ma asteptam sa o faca. Surprinderea mea s-a vazut si in momentul aflarii, cand am inceput sa uit de timp, loc si imbracaminte si sa sar cat pot de sus... Am sarit de cateva ori, pana mi-am amintit de tocul acela subtire ce trebuia sa reziste toata noaptea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa deschiderea cadoului... ce a fost? Muzica, cateva guri de Martini... dans, priviri, urlete, iar la 00:00 cel mai frumos sentiment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa ora magica nu imi amintesc decat numaratoarea baietiilor in timp ce ma aruncau in sus. Erau voci amestecate, nu erau pure, dar imi numarau anii, zilele, clipele frumoase... eu m-am pierdut intr-un tipat de fericire. Sa fie oare fericirea un tipat? Un urlet? O rabuvnire a simturilor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Restul? A fost o descriere a agitatiei... a trecerii spre maturitate, a zambetelor, a privirilor, a dansurilor, si a tot ce ne putea distra, dar mai ales multa sampanie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-5655687078733915258?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/5655687078733915258/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/infinit.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5655687078733915258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5655687078733915258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/infinit.html' title='... infinit II'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-7246417048186740474</id><published>2009-11-24T10:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T11:39:26.441-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Soseaua fara sens I</title><content type='html'>24 noiembrie... 11-5=6, de azi am oficial 18 ani jumatate. Au trecut deja 6 luni de la majorat. Si ce mai majorat... imi amintesc fiecare clipa din saptamana aceea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A inceput la mare... era 17 mai si noi eram pe plaja, pe un nisip intins, curat, aranjat si era liniste.A fost un weekend cum putine am avut. Am trecut de la o stare la alta, am ras, am glumit, am vazut numai parti bune ale vietii... si am vorbit in engleza. Sau au vorbit in engleza. Dar ce mai conteaza? Cand soarele ne innegrea obrajii si zambetele noastre cantau la unison cu marea. Si ce frumoasa era marea... imi amintesc doar raceala ei cand am incercat sa o invadam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa un weekend plin de liniste, fericire, zambete si pauze de cafea... am sarit in tren. Trenul ce ne-a adus acasa, la griji... la teze. Luni... la ora 6, mi-am imbratisat perna uitata pe partea dreapta a patului meu. La ora 12 ceasul a sunat. Ma anunta ca trebuia sa plec... sa plec la scoala. De ce? Aveam teza... la info.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totul a fost bine. Ma pot lauda ca m-am descurcat mai bine decat am crezut. Toate problemele legate de scoala s-au dus, asa ca impreuna cu D. si mamele noastre am plecat in cautare de local pentru majorat. Cum gemenii au un noroc recunoscut si in stele... am reusit sa gasim in aproape 4 ore de cautari o sala. Bine ca norocul se arata... desi cam tarziu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am gasit cea mai frumoasa sala pe care o puteam inchiria. Era eleganta, cu mancare multa, bautura si scaune atent aranjate. Ne-a placut si am decis ca e singura optiune la care ne puteam opri. Am lasat meniul in seama parintilor si marti la ora 14 ne-am urcat in trenul ce ne duceam in Bucuresti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi amintesc toate descrierile pe care eu si D. ni le doream pentru Rochia Perfecta... Acum nu era vorba doar de o rochie... ci de Rochia de la Majorat.&lt;br /&gt;Si nu era doar 1, erau 2...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am ajuns in Bucuresti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haine... haine... haine si haine. Cam atat am vazut in cele 3 zile, pe care le-am petrecut acolo. Nimeni nu stie cat e de greu sa iti alegi rochia. E ca si cum ti-ai alege o pereche de ochi, de buze sau de sani. Trebuie pur si simplu sa fie perfecta, sa iti vina asa cum visezi... sa zambesti cand te vezi in oglinda... si e greu. E greu sa o gasesti... Dar ne-a ajutat norocul... ce e drept pe ultima suta de metri, dar e bine si atunci decat deloc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne-am intors in minunatul Severin, dupa ce niciuna dintre noi doua nu mai suporta mirosul de KFC, vedeam in fata ochilor siruri de rochii, dar a fost frumos, distractiv... si plin de nervi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era vineri. O singura zi pana la majorat si ne relaxam... incepusem sa nu mai gandim... ne doream doar o canapea, o masuta, o cafea, multa vorbarie... si visam cu ochii deschisi la seara urmatoare. Tot ce speram era sa urlam :"Sunt fericit!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si asa a fost... era 23 mai. Cateva ore ne desparteau de majorat. Ne-am aranjat parul. Ne-am luat camasa alba, pantofii negrii, centura, sampania, visele si ne-am urcat intr-un taxy.Am ajuns la restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am fost putin rusinate. De ce? Pentru ca tinuta noastra... era una cu care nu eram obijnuite. Camasa era cam scurta, rochia tipa din plasuta adusa cu grija, iar sampaniile doreau sa ne spuna:"Good evening!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa aproape o ora de emotii si nervi, pentru ca muzica nu mergea, priviri in oglinda... am pus mana pe un pahar si am turnat o gura de Martini. De aici a plecat linistea noastra....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-7246417048186740474?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/7246417048186740474/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/soseaua-fara-sens.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7246417048186740474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7246417048186740474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/soseaua-fara-sens.html' title='Soseaua fara sens I'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-6343374316245274751</id><published>2009-11-24T08:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T09:26:29.601-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Puncte de lumina</title><content type='html'>Zilele trec... si iau cu ele si gandurile, sperantele, si orele mele. Incep sa treaca din ce in ce mai repede. Au ajuns ca un tren, ce isi doreste cu disperare sa ajunga in gara. Dar gara e departe... Asa ca a inceput sa accelereze. Sinele incep sa se incite. Soarele a devenit luminita de la capatul tunelului, desupra ta e doar un cer noros, uneori intunecat. Apesi acceleratia si crezi, iti imaginezi ca vei deraia... dar te trezesti repede, atunci cand realizezi ca asta ar insemna un vis distrus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visezi cu ochi deschisi la ziua in care vei putea sta relaxata, pe un sezlog, dimineata la rasarit, privind in zare, cu un pahar plin de gheata in mana stanga. Asa te imaginezi mereu... si da, deja ti-ai propus ca dupa aflarea rezultatelor sa te urci in primul tren pentru a-ti realiza visul. Visul... visul. Si ce departe e visul...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zilele trec, rand pe rand... si din ce in ce mai mult mai multe persoane incep a se gandi la tine, la plecarea ta... la maturizarea ta. Ai crescut repede sau anii alearga disperati pentru a te imbatrani? Dar nu ai timp sa gandesti... esti programat sa ajungi acolo unde trebuie, sa inveti, sa simti, sa iti doresti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiecare raza de soare pe care o mai zaresti in al toamnei aer o vezi ca pe o ultima clipa de liniste. Si... si nu vrei sa o imparti cu nimeni. E raza ta de soare... te incalzeste, te infrumuseteasa si ii arati afectiune...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toate se termina cand pierduta in amintire te trezesti... si privesti in jurul tau...e intuneric. Arunci o privire spre ceasul aflat langa tine. Linistea a acoperit orasul, iar aerul ce patrunde in camera prevesteste gerul de peste noapte. E aproape iarna...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-6343374316245274751?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/6343374316245274751/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/puncte-de-lumina.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6343374316245274751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6343374316245274751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/puncte-de-lumina.html' title='Puncte de lumina'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1184441005733188937</id><published>2009-11-20T05:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T05:42:46.306-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><title type='text'>1000</title><content type='html'>Pentru ca 1000 e o cifra magica... De ce? Pentru ca sunt 1000 de lucruri ce imi amintesc de tine... de iubire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rgvrRr9NRZQ&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rgvrRr9NRZQ&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma sufoca un aer mult prea trist, asa ca:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PcC0Xs7SEcg&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PcC0Xs7SEcg&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pentru un happy end:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si cantecul nu inseamna 'Pa'&lt;br /&gt;E un dar de zïua ta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But 1000 kisses from you is never to much... :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TZusL-6zBgo&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TZusL-6zBgo&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1184441005733188937?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1184441005733188937/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post_20.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1184441005733188937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1184441005733188937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post_20.html' title='1000'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-2886482300332728849</id><published>2009-11-20T05:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T05:24:46.947-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>5</title><content type='html'>Inchizi ochi si derulezi filmul. Ajungi exact in momentul in care tu ai simtit fericire. Da... ai simtit. Recunoaste ca exista fericire. Desprinde-te de lumea de acum si aminteste-ti...&lt;br /&gt;... trage aer in piept si incepe sa numeri secundele in care ai simtit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;1... 2... 3... 4... 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Da, atat dureaza fericirea. E scurta, dar e doar a ta. E intensa, dulce, schimbatoare... si mereu parfumata. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;5 sec... almost perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Iti amintesti ultima zi, in care te plimbai zambind pe strada? Cand soarele incalzea totul in jurul lui. Cand tu erai pierduta... iar lumea din jurul tau nu exista? Imi amintesti? Da... a trecut mult. De ce? Pentru ca zi de zi, tu refuzi fericirea. Refuzi sa zambesti, sa fi tu, sa plutesti... si refuzi sa crezi ca exista fericirea...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poti sa simti fericirea zi de zi, dar trebuie sa o cauti, sa o imbratisezi si apoi sa ii dai drumul... fericirea nu dureaza mult, dar e perfecta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Fericire-i când îti amintesti&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cât de fericit esti când iubesti,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fericire-i când dormi tu la ea,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Chiar pe canapea…"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Vama Veche-Fericire.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-2886482300332728849?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/2886482300332728849/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/5-sec-almost-perfect.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2886482300332728849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2886482300332728849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/5-sec-almost-perfect.html' title='5'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-5988110851092655559</id><published>2009-11-20T04:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T05:00:40.505-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Uitam...</title><content type='html'>Ne iubim pe noi mai mult decat pe oricine. Ne respectam, ne protejam si ne este frica... Vrem totul pentru noi, iar egoismul nelimitat nu ne lasa sa impartim cu nimeni. Vrem totul doar pentru a ne satisface o mica placere. Chiar daca...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Din cand in cand ne gandim la fericire... a mea, a ta... sau a noastra?Suntem construiti genetic pentru a lupta pentru fericire. Dar fericirea cui? Putem imparti fericirea cu cineva? Sau... o dorim doar pentru noi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fiecare zi visam la o viata mai infloritoare, mai scoasa din filme, mai plina de fond de ten si tocuri de 10. Dar... asta nu ne-ar face sa uitam cine suntem cu adevarat? ... Nu am deveni doar o marioneta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne planificam viata, dar uitam sa iubim. Am uitat sa iubim o floare intens colorata.Ii furam fericirea pentru ca noi sa ne bucuram de ea. Ii furam viata pentru a ne aduce o pata de culoare intr-o camera uitata. Ii rupem o parte din ea... si uitam, uitam ca noi si egoismul nostru am omorat-o din prima clipa. Prima clipa in care orizontul a adus-o in privirea noastra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uitam de cel mai bun prieten. Cine e? E cel cu care ne-am impartasit trairile. Uitam cat de mult l-am iubit. Uitam ca el ne asteapta acolo unde l-am lasat. Si ne asteapta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uitam ca cineva inca ne mai iubeste... Si da, uitam sa iubim... uitam de tot si lumea o sa uite de noi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uitam sa fim fericiti...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-5988110851092655559?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/5988110851092655559/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/uitam.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5988110851092655559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5988110851092655559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/uitam.html' title='Uitam...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-8153629403315312492</id><published>2009-11-12T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T15:42:31.392-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coco Chanel:</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SvydSO40vrI/AAAAAAAAAOg/KsBJf2nAqTY/s1600-h/Coco_Chanel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403366589497392818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 235px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SvydSO40vrI/AAAAAAAAAOg/KsBJf2nAqTY/s320/Coco_Chanel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; „Nu înţeleg de ce femeile ar trebui să îşi dorească vreun lucru care este al bărbaţilor, când bărbaţii înşişi sunt unul dintre lucrurile pe care ele le pot avea.” &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;„Dacă vrei să fii unică, trebuie să fii diferită!”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;„O femeie fără parfum e o femeie fără viitor.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;„Moda trece, doar stilul rămâne.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-8153629403315312492?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/8153629403315312492/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/coco-chanel.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8153629403315312492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8153629403315312492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/coco-chanel.html' title='Coco Chanel:'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SvydSO40vrI/AAAAAAAAAOg/KsBJf2nAqTY/s72-c/Coco_Chanel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-4888743934003991666</id><published>2009-11-06T15:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T15:29:14.153-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Cuvinte din soapte</title><content type='html'>-If you needed love,then ask for love...&lt;br /&gt;-It's funny how I found myself in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;-Daca viata nu`ti zambeste...gadil`o...&lt;br /&gt;-18 sau 16 cu 2 ani experienta?&lt;br /&gt;-Pierduta...&lt;br /&gt;-Unde?&lt;br /&gt;-... pe o insula pustie. &lt;br /&gt;-Pentru ca-si permite...&lt;br /&gt;-Cu cine?&lt;br /&gt;-Fericita...&lt;br /&gt;-Nu-mi pasa de nimic... de nimic. Sunt fericit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-4888743934003991666?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/4888743934003991666/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/cuvinte-din-soapte.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4888743934003991666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4888743934003991666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/cuvinte-din-soapte.html' title='Cuvinte din soapte'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-8420466773069670379</id><published>2009-11-06T15:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T15:20:23.621-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVE ETC… Release The Force Of Love!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SvSvHB-sMgI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/a1KH-v0Ksfs/s1600-h/in_love_by_angrymouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401134388449391106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SvSvHB-sMgI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/a1KH-v0Ksfs/s320/in_love_by_angrymouse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Love, Peace and Fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cele 3 ingrediente ce compun un intreg, o idila, un sentiment... o viata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cele 3 care ne dau zambetul atunci cand aburul iese din cafea, cand esti imbratisata de el, la rasarit, pe malul marii, cand ajungi in varful muntelui, respiri... simti natura, cand vezi beautitudine in jurul tau, cand regasesti copilaria pierduta, cand simti, traiesti si visezi, cand te pierzi...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-8420466773069670379?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/8420466773069670379/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/love-etc-release-force-of-love.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8420466773069670379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8420466773069670379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/love-etc-release-force-of-love.html' title='LOVE ETC… Release The Force Of Love!'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SvSvHB-sMgI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/a1KH-v0Ksfs/s72-c/in_love_by_angrymouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-2422701180680242734</id><published>2009-11-06T14:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T15:13:45.634-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zXQqcW-QYZo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zXQqcW-QYZo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... pentru ca Iubirea nu are limite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-2422701180680242734?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/2422701180680242734/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2422701180680242734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2422701180680242734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title='This Love...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-5334384275502496173</id><published>2009-11-06T14:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T04:51:31.636-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><title type='text'>All about Steve...</title><content type='html'>E noapte si e noiembrie. Tocmai am terminat un roman de dragoste, iar in jurul meu sclipesc sentimente demult uitate. M-am inchis in carte pentru cateva ore. Am zburat in Paris, la o nunta, in intimitate, in sufletul si in gandul autorului. Am zburat acolo unde cuvintele cartii ma chemau.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunt convinsa ca sentimentul ce ma domina acum se rupe dupa trecerea noptii, dar acum sunt geloasa. Geloasa pe tot... norocul sau ghinionul unora, visele sau orgoliile altora. Incep sa uit in a ma bucura de ce am eu, de ce sunt eu, de ce simt, privesc, zambesc in fiecare zi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exista romane in care te regasesti. Exista carti pe care le iubesti. Exista volume, pe care nu vrei sa le pierzi. Exista texte care te readuc la viata. Dar putine sunt scrierile, in care Tu esti conturata, analizata, studiata. Te intrebi dupa fiecare sunet ce anunta sfarsitul unei pagini, daca e real sau imaginatia autorului te-a adus in sentimentele de acum... Si iti reamintesti ca nu esti doar Tu. Ideile, sentimentele, trairile sunt aceleasi, dar in conditii diferite de timp si spatiu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gust dintr-o bucata neagra de ciocolata. Stiu ca Iubirea a fost comparata cu cele mai neconventionale lucruri. Dar poate fi comparata si cu o bucata mare din fericirea mea... ciocolata?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Fercirea... Exista?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dulce, schimbatoare si efemera...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" -Nu e suficient.&lt;br /&gt;- ...&lt;br /&gt;- Te iubesc. Te admir teribil. Nu e suficient.&lt;br /&gt;- Ne iubim. Ne respectam. Doua motive...&lt;br /&gt;- ... cum te face ea sa te simti?&lt;br /&gt;- Te iubesc. S-a terminat.&lt;br /&gt;- Gandeste-te doar la felul in care ea te face sa te simti...&lt;br /&gt;- Era altfel.Nu stiu de ce. Dar te iubesc...&lt;br /&gt;- Intre noi e ceva. Dar nu e suficient" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pentru ca-si permite, Bridie Clark&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadru schimbat...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zambet dulce, unic, etern indragostit.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-5334384275502496173?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/5334384275502496173/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/all-about-steve.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5334384275502496173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5334384275502496173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/all-about-steve.html' title='All about Steve...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1404912540701182108</id><published>2009-11-01T07:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T15:32:55.682-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Trecut?</title><content type='html'>Astept... astept. Astept ziua in care nu te voi mai astepta. Dar imi place, pentru ca imi aminteste de ceva. De ce?... simt doar un gust bun, dulce, aromat, pe care l-am gustat candva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;O pereche de ochi mari si verzi ma privesc. Un zambet imi apare in fata, iar privirea incepe sa-mi redea stralucire. Il cunosc... e zambetul ce mi-a fost alaturi mereu, zambetul ce a avut grija de mine, zambetul ce imi spunea cuvinte magice. O mana cunoscut imi cuprinde mijlocul. Zambetul a disparut. Acum buzele lui ma saruta. Suntem impreuna... vrajiti, iar in mintea mea deruleaza filmul vietii noastre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;... incepe cu pasi mici, usori, ce lasau urme pe zapada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Era 7 ianuarie, 17 ani ai lui... un singur vis. Multe minute impreuna, multe cuvinte, multe saruturi... frig, abur si sentimente. 2 saptamani... 6 luni. Si singurele cuvinte ce au inlocuit sentimentele: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Pe stanci daca vrei te sarut &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sau in apa mi-e totuna."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;A fost frumos, adevarat si sincer. Nu priveam la viitor, eram noi atunci, acolo, impreuna... Nu am simtit cand au trecut anii. Dar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;... acum totul e diferit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1404912540701182108?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1404912540701182108/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/trecut.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1404912540701182108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1404912540701182108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/11/trecut.html' title='Trecut?'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1744749036638519131</id><published>2009-10-25T10:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T10:46:42.762-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Almost lover...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"I can't go to the ocean&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can't drive the streets at night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can't wake up in the morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Without you on my mind"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EDEEzS7OV2k&amp;amp;hl=" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" fs="1&amp;amp;rel=" color1="0x402061&amp;amp;color2=" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piesa care m-a surprins prin simplitatea, adevarul si naturaletea din versuri.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;P.S.: Danke, AS. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1744749036638519131?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1744749036638519131/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/almost-lover.html#comment-form' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1744749036638519131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1744749036638519131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/almost-lover.html' title='Almost lover...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-5126813358607509553</id><published>2009-10-25T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T10:24:47.944-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>A fost o vremea</title><content type='html'>Telefonul suna... alerg repede si din difuzor se aude urland:&lt;br /&gt;- Kwa nini mimi, Crissu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si atunci stiu... Diplomat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Nu am chef azi...&lt;br /&gt;- Rom sau vin?&lt;br /&gt;- 5 fara 10?&lt;br /&gt;- ... parul meu minte nu are.&lt;br /&gt;- Oh?&lt;br /&gt;- ... sa ne facem nevazute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... timpul s-a scurs si o astept. Sunt in fata. Nu intarzie, doar ca eu eram prea plictisita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...dupa un timp ajunge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Intram. Era plin. Imi arunc portofelul pe masa si ii zambesc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Ironic?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- Mai intrebi?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;... ridic privirea si in fata mea un zambet mare... o mirare si...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;un Ce faci? mi se tranteste in fata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunt socata. De ce? Pentru ca privirea zambetului era ciudata. Nu era socata, nu era placuta... era doar ciudata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Ii raspund... vorbeste cu mine, dar am impresia ca toate cuvintele trec pe langa. Purtam un dialog simplu, banal, desprins din revistele cu nume de expresii copilaresti, sau cel mult adolecentine...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma uit ciudat, dar realizez...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... uitasem ca port o masca. Cea numita "sa nu ma recunosca". Sunt ascunsa dupa o pereche de ochelari, un par aranjat "la moda", dar la minut, iar hainele sunt aruncate direct din sifonier. Si rad... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morala: Nu te duce unde vrea AS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-5126813358607509553?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/5126813358607509553/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/fost-o-vremea.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5126813358607509553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5126813358607509553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/fost-o-vremea.html' title='A fost o vremea'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-5731367263547683703</id><published>2009-10-22T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T12:25:45.515-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Vis de octombrie</title><content type='html'>Iesi din camera... simti miros sarat si vrei sa il urmezi. Pasii tai nu te mai intreaba... tu doar ii simti. Zambesti, dar nu ai idee de ce. Esti fericita si nu stii daca mai traiesti sau nu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te pierzi in vraja ce te cheama. Te plimbi, fara sa vezi, simti, mirosi. Esti tu simpla, nefardata, nearanjata... plina de vise. Esti tu, unica si fericita. Esti aici, acum... atingi cu varfurile degetelor zidurile goale. Sunt goale, dar te-au privit candva. Te-au privit... dar nu erai mai fericita. Poate doar zambeai mai mult. Dar fericirea era mai mica, putin mai mica.Usile tac, au amutit. Nici urma de scartait. E o tacere unica, simpla, plina de energie. E plin de viata in jurul tau, dar linistea te inconjoara. E totul alb. Esti singura. Toate simturile sunt amortite, dar mirosul etern de mare te framanta. Te face sa visezi. Te duce cu gandul departe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... mare, rasarit, privire, spuma, iubire, el, patura, ochi, buze si nas, Grasa, nisip fin, sarut,plaja, i-pod, scoica, negru, vama, cerul, mangaiere, vise, &lt;em&gt;iubire&lt;/em&gt;, gust mentolat, ganduri departe, vant, liniste... infinitul vietii mele. E fericirea, pe care o simti, o auzi, o mangai cu toate simturile, cu toata fiinta ta. E fericirea, pe care numai marea ti-o poate da. Ea... ea si el. Doar impreuna. Doar impreuna poti fi &lt;strong&gt;tu &lt;/strong&gt;intreaga. Poti fi Tu ceea ce esti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Costumul de baie e acoperit de cateva haine. Deasupra e parfumul lui. Nu l-ai furat de pe el... i-ai furat hainele. Doar tricoul... vrei sa-l simti, chiar daca el te inseala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Te inseala cu ea. Sunt numai ei doi acum. Fara tine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tu ii privesti si zambesti. Atunci iti dai seama ce frumosi sunt impreuna. Stii si tu cat de efemere e viata. Stii si tu cat de repede trece pe langa tine. Stii si tu ca acum cateva zile nu il priveai in ochi. Stii si tu ca el e aici doar pentru un moment. Stii si tu ca are buzele nesarutate. Stii si tu ca sotia lui e &lt;em&gt;ea,&lt;/em&gt; tu esti doar amanta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Si atunci ce faci?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Te dezbraci intr-o secunda... alergi in acelasi ritm cu fericirea si il prinzi. Il prizi din urma. Si il stropesti... Il stropesti cu dragoste. El incepe sa viseze. Te cuprinde in brate, iti zambeste, te priveste, te admira... si te saruta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Te saruta ca prima data. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Te saruta si nu iti mai da drumu. Suneti voi 3, impreuna. Luna se reflecta in mare si va vegheaza. El te saruta, tu te lasi puratata de vis, ea va alina, va simte... va da fericire. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;... &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;bucata ta de fericire&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-5731367263547683703?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/5731367263547683703/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/vis-de-octombrie.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5731367263547683703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5731367263547683703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/vis-de-octombrie.html' title='Vis de octombrie'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3011742891604855578</id><published>2009-10-22T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T06:48:34.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Legaturi bolnavicioase...</title><content type='html'>Am revazut filmul... dupa 3 ani. &lt;br /&gt;3 ani... in care s-au schimbat multe, unele sunt in curs de schimbare, putine au ramas intacte. In toti acesti 3 ani am iubit scena:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KHdI_Cz8Lp8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KHdI_Cz8Lp8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Este azi 10 iunie si te-am sunat sa-ti spun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LA MULTI ANI.&lt;/div&gt;Desi tu nu ma mai iubesti asa cum te iubesc eu pe tine,&lt;br /&gt;Desi si tu o sa ma suni de ziua mea,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dar asta nu inseamna iubire ca ti-aduci aminte cand e ziua de nastere a oamenilor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Iubirea﻿ e atunci cand nu pot sa traiesc fara tine...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;De ce ma chinuiesti, de ce ti-e teama? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Ce vrei, sa ma jupui de vie?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Vrei sa sangerez pana la moarte de dorul tau? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Esti o bestie, iar eu sunt carpa ta de sters﻿ pe jos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sunt umbra ta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Si chiar daca nu sunt prima care te-a sunat sa-ti spun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;   La multi ani!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stii foarte bine ca sunt singura care conteaza....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3011742891604855578?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3011742891604855578/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/legaturi-bolnavicioase.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3011742891604855578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3011742891604855578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/legaturi-bolnavicioase.html' title='Legaturi bolnavicioase...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-5279743144505845986</id><published>2009-10-21T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T12:52:03.562-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Sweet little nightmare</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt; Indragostita?&lt;br /&gt;- De unde ti-ai dat seama?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Mai intrebi?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Love. Love. Love?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Stii ca sunt gemeni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- De 3 ori?&lt;br /&gt;- Ma inmultesc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Singura?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Fara ajutor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Cum sa fac si eu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Ce?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Sa derulez caseta pana pe 15 iulie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Simplu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- ... sau pe 1-2 august cand sunt deja la mare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Te urci in tren.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Si raman pe plaja pana atunci...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Rad... rad de voi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- De noi 3?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Da, de voi 3... si eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Noi 3, caci A. era putin absenta. Are catalogu plin de absente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Stiam eu ca uitasem ceva...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Nu am muzica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Boxe amarate din 5 pachete de tigari.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Singurul care isi doreste sa-mi iau e vecinul meu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- De ce...?&lt;br /&gt;- Nu mai e obligat sa imi asculte toate conversatiile mele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Ma visez la o mare... cu &lt;em&gt;valuri spumoase&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- ...o sa fie mai spumoase dupa ce termini cu totul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Asa e. O sa ma astepte mai mult.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- ... mai&lt;strong&gt; sec&lt;/strong&gt; decat un vin&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- ... sunt demidulce. Sau macar demisec. Niciodata sec.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Demidulce esti cand stii sa desfaci sticlele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Da?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Nu te umfla in pene. Asta doar pentru ca vinul e demidulce...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Da, si stii ca ma mai stropesc si eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Exact... asta te face dulce. Dar nu poate mai mult de demidulce.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Asa sec sunt?&lt;br /&gt;- Nu... &lt;em&gt;putin prea acru&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Esti sigura?&lt;br /&gt;- Da... trebuie un vin foarte dulce sa te faca... cum imi place mie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Ai zis de multe ori &lt;em&gt;"te iubesc"&lt;/em&gt; ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Nu imi place sa fiu sentimentalista.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Esti zgarcita cu "&lt;em&gt;te iubescu&lt;/em&gt;"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Sunt zgarcita cu sentimentele...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Visezi?&lt;br /&gt;- Da.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Respiri?&lt;br /&gt;- Cand imi amintesc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Ce visezi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- ...prea multe pt cuvinte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Nu are nici macar culoare?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Lumea spune k e neagra... dar oricum e altcumva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Lumea minte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- e... &lt;em&gt;speciala&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- ...stiu ca inseamna mai mult pt tine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Stii si tu ce inseamna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- Pt mine e doar ea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;I really know that&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-5279743144505845986?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/5279743144505845986/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/sweet-little-nightmare.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5279743144505845986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5279743144505845986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/sweet-little-nightmare.html' title='Sweet little nightmare'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-7174998329147184356</id><published>2009-10-21T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T11:54:50.712-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Timp, durere si poveste...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Privesc in amintire si cateva "link-uri" imi vorbesc despre tine. Nu te cunosc prea bine. Esti doar o umbra in viata mea. De cele mai multe ori mi-am dorit sa fiu si eu macar o parte din viata ta. Nu s-a putut, deci te-ai transformat in umbra.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Umbra o zaresc mereu. Zi de zi o regasesc printre aceleasi amintiri pierdute, dar reintalnite, printre aceleasi valuri pline de spuma, printre aceiasi prieteni, printre aceleasi vise, printre aceleasi locuri... Ma urmareste fara sa ii pese. O simt alaturi de mine, chiar daca ea e departe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Departe... esti departe si atunci cand esti aproape de mine. Te simt departe pentru ca stiu ca nu esti aici. Nu esti cu gandul la mine. Nu ma privesti in ochi. Nu comunici cu mine. Esti departe... esti inchis in lumea fara trecut sau viitor. Esti aici, acum, fara ganduri, planuri sau costum. Esti aici pentru a fi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Esti tu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Esti tu... Simplu Tu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Acum stiu ca Tu nu esti ca El, pe care eu il visam, il vedeam, il priveam si il cunoasteam. Tu nu esti acela. Esti doar o proiectare a realitatii lui. Esti doar o mica parte din el. Partea, pe care numai eu o pot vedea... Numai eu am vazut-o. Dar am inceput sa ma indepartez... si alerg. Alerg zambind... pentru ca acum stiu ca tot ce e iubire moare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sau nu?&lt;br /&gt;... si nu, nu pot. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dar am sa reusesc. Si asta ti-o promit eu tie. Da, numai tie. Pentru ca tu, tu vei ramane in amintire. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sunt clipe pe care ti le dedic numai tie. Dar sunt momente in care am vrut sa-ti spun &lt;em&gt;"La revedere"&lt;/em&gt;, dar nu am putut... caci iubirea e o pacoste.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Si stii si tu ca daca ai fi aici... ti-as spune ca e nevoie de o schimbare, pentru ca dragostea noastra moare. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-7174998329147184356?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/7174998329147184356/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/timp-durere-si-poveste.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7174998329147184356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7174998329147184356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/timp-durere-si-poveste.html' title='Timp, durere si poveste...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1959678470409384094</id><published>2009-10-20T03:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T04:32:06.772-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Pata de culoare</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;As vrea sa fiu o floare... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sa ma apreciezi mereu pentru frumusetea culorii mele, sa ma privesti atunci cand esti trist si sa te ascult de fiecare data cand esti suparat. Sa ai incredere in mine. Sa stii si tu ca eu, eu, floarea ta puternic colorata nu are probleme. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nu am probleme. Singurele mele probleme sunt cand tu, tu, iubitul meu cuceritor nu ma privesti, nu imi vorbesti si nu... nu imi zambesti, cum mi-ai zambit prima data. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cum mi-ai zambit... ce privire, ce sclipire. Toata bucuria s-a adunat pe chipul tau atunci cand &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;m-ai zarit singura si pierduta intr-o mare de liniste.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Marea de liniste, pe care eu ti-o ofer acum. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sa nu uiti niciodata sa-mi lauzi parfumul... Parfumul meu unic, siropos de acru, dar mereu puternic. Nu atrag altceva, decat zambetul si fericirea ta. Sunt ca o panza de paianjen care tine captiva toata fericirea ta. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fericirea ta e totul pentru mine. Cand tu esti fericit, eu nu mai am nevoie de soare. Atunci tu esti lumina de care am nevoie. Ma alinti cand esti fericit, fara cuvinte sau buze.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Iti simt si acum urmele de buze de cand m-ai sarutat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Erau dulci, dar sarate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Erau pierdute, dar mereu aici. Nu erau ale mele, dar erau nesarutate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Zi de zi te astept acolo unde m-ai lasat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nu ma misc, nu ma simte nimeni.Nu pot simti iubirea fara tine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sunt doar o mica floare. Floarea care o sa-ti dea mereu culoare.Chiar daca uneori... sufletul tau e mai mare decat mine si uiti... uiti de mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Uiti de tine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Lasa-ma in amintirea ta. Nu ma sterge, nu ma inlocui. Nu ma pierde pentru alta. Stii si tu ca sunt unica. Unica ta iubire... Unica ta culoare de viata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nu ma pierde, caci te vei pierde si tu. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Iar eu nu vreau.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nu vreau sa te pierd iar. Vreau sa fi alaturi de sufletul meu. Sa visez la tine... sa te privesc fara limite, fara dorinte, fara durere. Nu vreau sa imi fie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nu mi-a fost dor niciodata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dar am aflat ca nu e placut. Nu vreau sa te cunosc prin dor. Imi place sa te stiu aici.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aici langa mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pe picior de plecare iti spun doar ca:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;... cand o tai, ea moare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1959678470409384094?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1959678470409384094/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/pata-de-culoare.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1959678470409384094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1959678470409384094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/pata-de-culoare.html' title='Pata de culoare'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-7881968533252672480</id><published>2009-10-08T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T09:13:55.826-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Valul ce il asteptai</title><content type='html'>- Macar atat sa stiu.&lt;br /&gt;- Eee... stii tu, mai multe.&lt;br /&gt;- Cum ar fi?&lt;br /&gt;- Sa privesti marea.&lt;br /&gt;- E ceva usor si linistitor...&lt;br /&gt;- Usor?&lt;br /&gt;- Daca ar trebui sa stau in vreo pozitie mai grea... nu as mai privi-o... m-as arunca.&lt;br /&gt;- Si eu as veni dupa tine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Nu am chef azi, nu am chef azi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;De vodca sau de gin,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tequila, rom sau vin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tigari, nu mai vorbesc"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nu am chef azi, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Vama Veche&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;- Iar pe tine, pe tine, pe tine...&lt;br /&gt;- ...&lt;br /&gt;- te... ?&lt;br /&gt;- 3 words 8 letters.&lt;br /&gt;- deci....&lt;br /&gt;- I L--- Y--&lt;br /&gt;- ... hmm, credeam ca vine "urasc".&lt;br /&gt;- Atunci te urasc, daca tu asta vrei.&lt;br /&gt;- Vreau doar sa stiu ce simti.&lt;br /&gt;- Zambesc. Vezi? Uite, zambesc.&lt;br /&gt;- Si cum te simti?&lt;br /&gt;- Mai bine...&lt;br /&gt;- Imi place cand imi zambesti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Sâmbătă seara în oraş&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Animalele se-adună&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fără o sută de parai &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;N-ai cum să te plimbi prin junglă."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sâmbătă seara,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Vama&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;- Cum de nu ai mai plecat?&lt;br /&gt;- Am fost prin port, dar m-am intors.&lt;br /&gt;- Iti place...&lt;br /&gt;- E apa, sunt peste...&lt;br /&gt;- Fara nisip, scoici. Nu are farmec.&lt;br /&gt;- Asa e.&lt;br /&gt;- Dar apa din port, peste cateva zile ajunge la mare.&lt;br /&gt;- Da...&lt;br /&gt;- Daca ai imaginatie... te poti pierde ca la mare.&lt;br /&gt;- ...&lt;br /&gt;- Si daca nu vezi sarbii.&lt;br /&gt;- Ar trebui sa imi fac o pluta.&lt;br /&gt;- Vin si eu.&lt;br /&gt;- Da?&lt;br /&gt;- Promit ca doar stau. Nu o sa scot niciun cuvant. Nu te voi stresa deloc.&lt;br /&gt;- Atunci nu te mai iau.&lt;br /&gt;- De ce?&lt;br /&gt;- Nu pot sa stau langa tine fara sa vorbim. Nu sunt suparat pe tine. Si oricum nu as putea.&lt;br /&gt;- Sa nu deranjezzzzz...&lt;br /&gt;- Sa taci iti permit doar cand ajungem la mare... Si nici tu nu o sa ai somn.&lt;br /&gt;- Si pe drum ma tii pe post de Vama?&lt;br /&gt;- Doar de bibelou.&lt;br /&gt;- Vroiai sa vorbesc.&lt;br /&gt;- Bibelou vorbitor.&lt;br /&gt;- Esti suparat?&lt;br /&gt;- Nu. De ce as fi?&lt;br /&gt;- Asa pari. Nu stiu. Esti putin melancolic.&lt;br /&gt;- Doar nu ma cunosti asa bine...&lt;br /&gt;- Poate ca nu.&lt;br /&gt;- Putin. Dar nu vreau sa recunosc.&lt;br /&gt;- Putin ca te cunosc sau putin suparat?&lt;br /&gt;- Un pic din tot ce vrei tu.&lt;br /&gt;- Ar trebui sa ma inrosesc.&lt;br /&gt;- De ce?&lt;br /&gt;- Ca m-ai lasat sa te cunosc... deci nu sunt chiar asa de rea.&lt;br /&gt;- Dar ce ai patit la buzita?&lt;br /&gt;- Mi-am muscat-o.&lt;br /&gt;- Singura?&lt;br /&gt;- Stii ca doar de la tine am probleme la ea.&lt;br /&gt;- Atunci lasa-ma sa o sarut iar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Honey, they don’t fix love on TV. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-7881968533252672480?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/7881968533252672480/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/valul-de-il-asteptai.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7881968533252672480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7881968533252672480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/valul-de-il-asteptai.html' title='Valul ce il asteptai'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3915931436288135325</id><published>2009-10-08T04:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T05:44:01.686-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Surpriza de sambata dimineata</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;E dimineata, ceasul urla nebun o melodie pierduta in anii tehnologiei. Intind mana sa-l prind, dar nu reusesc. Azi ma las batuta. E sambata, nu vreau sa il aud. Nu vreau sa ma ridic. Vreau doar ca perna sa nu se dezlipeasca de mine. Vreau ca patura sa ma imbratiseze si mai tare, iar lumina din camera sa nu numere orele ce vor trece peste mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi dau repede seama ca nu ma simt obosita, imi amintesc si ora la care am adormit, sunt in acelasi loc unde am adormit, atunci trag cu ochiul pe sub plapuma si observ tricoul. Este cel pe care l-am avut toata ziua pe mine. Dar nu, nu vreau sa ma trezesc... vreau sa intru iar in vis. Incerc sa fiu iar in el. Incerc sa visez iar. Dar nu pot. Ma intorc pe partea din stanga...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... acum sunt iar pe partea dreapta. Fara vise, in acelasi tricou, dar sunt in realitate. Realitatea pura. Ma ridic usor. Deschid geamul si fug spre baie. Ma uit in oglinda si incep sa arunc cu apa pe fata. Simt ca sunt disperata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma intorc in camera mea cand aud iar telefonul cum suna. Dar nu e alarma, e A. Se intreaba unde sunt. Incerc sa ii explic ca e sambata si nu avem ce sa cautam la scoala. Ea sustine ca saptamana nu s-a terminat. E o discutie in contradictoriu pana ajungem sa tipam. Urlu in telefon si elementul, de care m-am speriat si credeam ca e din imaginatia mea, incepe sa vorbeasca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incep sa tremur... A tipa ceva din telefon, dar deja mi-a alunecat din mana. El se ridica din pat si ochii mei se atintesc aupra singurului obiect vestimentar de pe el: o pereche de boxeri CB, de culoarea trandafirului dat din dragoste. Sunt socata. Spune ca ma lasa cateva clipe singura, daca am nevoie. Dau din cap hotarata. E si el uimit de privirea mea socata. Ma asez pe pat, imi duc mana la cap si incep sa ma gandesc... Nu imi amintesc nici de vreo sticla de vin, nici de un chef cu fetele, nici de...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lasat usa deschis si s-a auzit o voce. Nu era a lui. Deci mai e cineva aici. Sunt din ce in ce mai confuza si deja incepe sa ma infioare o durere din interior. Oare ce am facut? Arunc iar o privire spre hainele mele si atunci imi amintesc de rochia pe care mi-am cumparat-o pentru majorat. E inca in dulap. Curata, nefolosita si superba, o ador. O privesc si deja ma vad imbracata in ea. Da, majoratul este maine. Nu a fost si nu, azi nu e ziua mea. Atunci ce se intampla? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vocea ciudata se aude din nou. Ma hotarasc sa intru in camera din care se aude. Intru, dar cu ochii inchisi si cu speranta sa nu deranjez pe nimeni. Dar nu e nimeni aici. E doar o camera, in care probabil cu o zi inainte cineva dansase, bause, mancase... E totul vraiste, un tort e aproape terminat, pahare de sampanie si un casetofon care canta numai piese de dragoste. Acum incep sa cred ca am inebunit. Dar nu... ziua mea e maine. Ies si baiatul in boxeri a venit dupa mine. Numai sunt asa socata, doar putin mai mult. Nu pot scoate niciun cuvant. Asa ca stau in fata lui si il privesc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deodata imi dau seama ca e chiar mai frumos decat il vazusem prima data, deci poarta doar boxeri... E brunet,cu parul bine aranjat si daca nu ma insel proaspat tuns. Are niste ochi patrunzatori... ma priveste fara surprindere. Si sprancenele sunt pronuntate, dar aranjate. Buzele sunt mari, dar subliniate delicat. Vad ca imi zambeste si deodata ma saruta. Acum da, sunt socata, traumatizata... dar ma pierd si parca visez. E spontan, tandru si dulce. E un sarut lung, intens si nu pot minti... deosebit de placut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand m-am trezit din vis, reusesc sa privesc si dincolo de el. E o inimioara mare pe care e o sageata. Ma tine de mana, si ma urmeaza… sunt 18 sageti, la fiecare gasesc cate un text scris de o cate o prietena. Sunt amuzante. Sunt din copilaria mea… dar si ultimele prostii pe care le-am spus… ajung in fata ultimei usi. O deschid speriata, emotionata, dar cu el de mana… in fata mea troneaza un buchet imens de trandafiri, un superb tablou cu poze, un tort, multe baloane si un cadou impachetat. El ma priveste zambind si ma mai saruta inca o data.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il intreb unde sunt ceilalti, dar nu stie sa-mi raspunda… imi spune doar ca el v-a fi ghidul meu pe intreaga zi. Nu cred ca as avea de ce sa ma sperii sau ceva sa nu imi placa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3915931436288135325?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3915931436288135325/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/e-dimineata-ceasul-urla-nebun-o-melodie.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3915931436288135325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3915931436288135325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/e-dimineata-ceasul-urla-nebun-o-melodie.html' title='Surpriza de sambata dimineata'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1730996271230338425</id><published>2009-10-07T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T13:28:59.876-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Puzzle cu viata IV</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Ssz5uLwl3zI/AAAAAAAAANo/G_f0NmmLQ0s/s1600-h/IMG_1347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389957425881538354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Ssz5uLwl3zI/AAAAAAAAANo/G_f0NmmLQ0s/s400/IMG_1347.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Puritatea e regula de baza in jocul cu iubirea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Ssz5BPzLqJI/AAAAAAAAANg/HDMkUYYyImc/s1600-h/IMG_1380.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389956653872031890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Ssz5BPzLqJI/AAAAAAAAANg/HDMkUYYyImc/s400/IMG_1380.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Cauta, cunoaste, intelege...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Ssz4ZdPTZjI/AAAAAAAAANY/_k1uhnn9FfY/s1600-h/IMG_1266.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389955970284873266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Ssz4ZdPTZjI/AAAAAAAAANY/_k1uhnn9FfY/s400/IMG_1266.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Camera ta e prima pe care o indragesti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Ssz3vGSiLsI/AAAAAAAAANQ/phv4p4-DPpQ/s1600-h/IMG_1201.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389955242569903810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Ssz3vGSiLsI/AAAAAAAAANQ/phv4p4-DPpQ/s400/IMG_1201.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Iubirea prinde radacini si in cel mai uscat sufet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Ssz3bg7JA3I/AAAAAAAAANI/X8oSfClG4vc/s1600-h/IMG_1160.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389954906122158962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Ssz3bg7JA3I/AAAAAAAAANI/X8oSfClG4vc/s400/IMG_1160.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Luna e amintirea zilei, norii sunt cearceaf pe soare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1730996271230338425?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1730996271230338425/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/puzzle-cu-viata-iv.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1730996271230338425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1730996271230338425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/puzzle-cu-viata-iv.html' title='Puzzle cu viata IV'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Ssz5uLwl3zI/AAAAAAAAANo/G_f0NmmLQ0s/s72-c/IMG_1347.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-4777490365840615850</id><published>2009-10-07T12:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T04:24:28.457-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Plimbare prin amintire</title><content type='html'>Liceu, inceput de octombrie, deschid geamul si incep sa ma pierd... privesc in jur. Sunt in liceul, unde acum 7 ani ma laudam cu examenul sustinut la matematica. Eram fericita... incepeam sa imi fac prieteni noi, sa ma adaptez la viata din liceu, desi varsta nu era a unui adolescent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deschid ochii si mai mult si in jurul meu observ ca nu s-au schimbat prea multe. Batranul liceu nu s-a schimbat deloc. Aceasi culoare verde ne oglideste, holurile sunt pline de cei mici, care alearga, cei mari ii injura cand sunt deranjati, profesorii se uita superior si saluta privind in alte parti. Floarea, pe care am gasit-o in clasa in prima zi de gimneziu acum zace pe un coridor. Cabinetele profesorilor sunt pline de fum si discutii. Oglinda de la intrare e asezata tot acolo, neschimbata, nemodificata, ne admiram, ne aranjam si trecem mai departe. Laboratoarele de informatica, in care am petrecut atatea ore nu s-au schimbat deloc, nici calculatoarele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi s-a mai schimbat cate ceva. Sunt in cel de al 7 lea an, pe care il petrec aici, dar singurele diferente ar fi directorii, varsta mea si cei mai mari... cei ce au plecat. Imi trec prin minte sute de imagini cu persoane, pe care nu acum mult timp ii vedeam intrand in sali apropiate mie zambindu-mi. Si incep sa-mi compar cu cei de acum. Seamana, sunt multi care au trasaturi comune. Dar am crescut si privira mea nu mai luceste dupa ei. Nu mai pot sa ma ascund dupa inrosirea in obraji cand vad un baiat. Si atunci ma intreb: Oare asa ne vedeau si ei pe noi? Doar niste copii nebuni ce alerga prin liceu? Sau noi eram altfel? Nu stiu sa raspund sau nu sunt in masura...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O alta diferenta... e lipsa DJ-ului. Cel care ne ajuta sa terminam ora inainte de pauza... nu in timpul ei, cel care ne dadea dedicatii si ne aducea noutatiile. Cel care mi-a aratat cabina din care rasuna toata muzica din scoala. Cel care ore, zile, saptamani a muncit pt ca totul sa devina prosper. Lipsesc... si muzica, si cabina si DJ-ul. DJ-ul meu... Acum imi lipsesc si toate afisele din cabina, toate biletelele de dragoste lasate de fete in fata usii si toate insemnarile cu pixul de pe usa sau langa ea, tot parfumul de acolo si geamul, pe care niciodata nu reuseam sa il inchid. Acum imi lipsesc toate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi lipseste varsta, in care puteai sa faci orice pentru ca mijloacele scuza scopul. Varsta in care am ascultat si am urlat pentru prima data: "Am doar 18 ani", desi nu eram nici pe departe aproape de majorat. Imi lipsesc si cele 3 dati din viata mea, in care m-am inrosit in fata unui baiat. Imi lipsesc mesajele din orele de romana, cand ma chinuiam sa citesc, caci stiam ca sunt urmatoarea la ascultare. Imi lipsesc anii, cand nu eram cei mai mari... imi lipseste viata fara griji.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi arunc privirea catre laboratorul de fizica, pentru ca acolo este locul unde au trecut cele mai grele si lungi clipe din viata mea. Laboratorul a fost un loc destinat uciderii placerii pentru fizica. Unde am luat cele mai mici note, am plans, dar am si zambit, cand intr-un final am inteles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O voce ragusita ma cheama in clasa... e D. Plimbarea prin trecut s-a terminat. Arunc lenesa privirea peste numarul de la clasa. E 15... mereu a fost 15. Si mereu... 15. Doar ca acum 7 ani era alta usa... alta varsta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-4777490365840615850?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/4777490365840615850/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/plimbare-prin-amintire.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4777490365840615850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4777490365840615850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/plimbare-prin-amintire.html' title='Plimbare prin amintire'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-6719876181459818083</id><published>2009-10-05T04:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T06:27:20.392-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Puzzle cu viata III</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389075403995612546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SsnXhwL0BYI/AAAAAAAAAMY/QVQHQc-oYy4/s400/IMG_1248.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amintirea e pastrata in locuri, in carenimeni nu poate ajunge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SsnXiv39sRI/AAAAAAAAAMo/4amHrTXLpP4/s1600-h/IMG_1321.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389075421092229394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SsnXiv39sRI/AAAAAAAAAMo/4amHrTXLpP4/s400/IMG_1321.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gelozia e cea mai mare gresala a omului.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389076893949196322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SsnY4esbeCI/AAAAAAAAANA/-nFSZ53iTYc/s400/IMG_1376.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Te aud, dar imi lipsesti.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389075410476339826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SsnXiIU8EnI/AAAAAAAAAMg/PJFEnyD2mPU/s400/IMG_1300.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-6719876181459818083?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/6719876181459818083/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6719876181459818083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6719876181459818083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html' title='Puzzle cu viata III'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SsnXhwL0BYI/AAAAAAAAAMY/QVQHQc-oYy4/s72-c/IMG_1248.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-7473178980357055216</id><published>2009-09-25T23:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T06:51:25.538-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>A fi sau a nu fi</title><content type='html'>In ultimele zile, am incercat sa fac un sondaj de opinie. Unul mai ascuns, ce-i drept, pentru ca personajele sa nu-si schimbe gandurile sau ideile. Subiectul pe care am vrut sa-l descos a fost: &lt;em&gt;"Baiatul perfect".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acum cand scriu ma gandesc sa aleg intre baiat si barbat. Suntem inca adolescenti. Suntem la marginea dintre cele doua, dar nu pot alege barbat. Daca m-ai intreba de ce ti-as raspunde prin o suta de motive. Dar unul e cel mai important: nu sunt inca atat de maturi, incat sa-si ia viata in mainile sale. La varsta noastra, mintea lor zburda catre placerea nedobandita. Si asta ii face inca baieti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revenind la&lt;em&gt; "Baiatul perfect",&lt;/em&gt; am realizat ca fetele au cam aceleasi ganduri despre acest subiect. Dar totusi le pot imparti in doua grupuri: cele cu baietii bruneti si ochii verzi/ albastrii si cele cu baietii cu parul blond si ochii verzi/ albastrii. Pe langa cele doua categori, mai sunt si mici detalii, care le diferentiaza pe fete: corp lucrat vs burta, ochelari sau nu, zambet pefect si baiat ingrijit. La capitolul personalitate, de aproape 2 ani aud aceeasi fraza: "..simt al umorului, bine crescut si sa se comporte frumos cu mine".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-am amintit si de: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_evagdITzKE"&gt;What A Girl Want&lt;/a&gt;s, dar se pare ca la varsta noastra fetele nu vor chiar atat de multe. Uneori mai exista si extra-optiunea: masina si bani, dar nu vreau sa fiu rea pentru ca cele care au fost "supuse" sondajului nu au pronuntat niciodata mini-enumeratia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu de ce, dar am remarcat ca de cele mai multe ori lipsa de modestie si aroganta unui baiat ne place si/sau ne atrage. Dar naturaletea si spiritul lui de a comunica unde s-au dus? S-au pierdut in istorie?... sau pur si simplu nu mai e la moda(fashion).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-a placut mereu sa cred ca toate expresiile fetelor despre baieti sunt doar momente ale varstei. Si cum cuvantul "Bun" e pe buzele tuturor ...: Ce inseamna a fi un&lt;em&gt; Baiat Bun&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa incep cu faptul ca o aud si da, o folosesc frecvent, dar daca as da definitia unui baiat de acest tip m-as lega strict de infatisare. De ce? Pentru ca este genul de atribuire pe careo spunem celor ce nu ii cunoastem, doar ii observam si ii analizam.In concluzie a fi bun se leaga strict de infatisare, mers sau mai bine spus, defilatul prin fata fetelor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800080;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cum vad eu un baiat bun? Nu pot sa-l descriu. Nu stiu pe cineva care sa-mi placa, sa fie fara defect, care sa-l pot da ca model. Nu stiu nici macar daca exista. Stiu sigur ca nu m-au interesat niciodata culoarea parului sau ochii, nasul sau buzele, urechiile sau dintii. Daca toate se aranjeaza potrivit si la gat nu poarta lesa cainelui il cataloghez un "baiat bun". Dar mai spun des ca pentru mine bun nu e niciodata egal cu perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baiatul pefect nu are nici cea mai mica legatura cu frumusetea exterioara. De cele mai multe ori vine ca un bonus. Pentru acest tip de baiat frumusetea vine din starea de bine, zambetul si gandurile, pe care le exprima fara a se balbai, strica cuvintele, si a nu folosi cuvantul "nana",dar si a nu fuma ca un nebun. Un baiat perfect nu pune "parola" pe masa pentru a atrage fetele si nu te prezinta prietenilor ca fiind o amica. Frumusetea de a iubi un Baiat Perfect vine din sinceritatea si relaxarea cu care iti vorbeste despre lucrurile pe care tu nu le cunosti. E genul de baiat de la care ai ce invata. Fara ca el sa se umfle in penele imaginare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stiu... e din ce in ce mai greu sa gasesti un baiat perfect. Majoritatea sunt ascunsi bine in grupuri de baiati buni, undeva intr-un colt,iar ceilalti sunt acaparati de fete. Baiatul perfect stie sa tina si isi doreste o relatie de lunga durata, dar ii e greu sa gaseasca o fata care nu se ascunde dupa fondul de ten. Baiatul perfect apreciaza frumusetea naturala, dar si naturaletea ce iese prin toti porii atunci cand esti indragostita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar acum... Noi, fetele, ce ne dorim? Un Baiat Perfect sau ramanem tot la Baietii Buni?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... pentru fete:&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;Sunt o mitraliera mare,&lt;br /&gt;Nu pistol ca Gina&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;si bineinteles... stiu ca ne "&lt;strong&gt;place viata cand se zgaltaie masina&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;si niciodata sa "&lt;strong&gt;nu se termina benzina&lt;/strong&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;(din cate imi amintesc e &lt;em&gt;Alex- "Secret discret")&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.: Multumiri lui &lt;a href="http://idonthaveblueyes.blogspot.com/"&gt;A &lt;/a&gt;si D pentru ca am auzit acesta melodie de un milion de ori in ultimele zile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-7473178980357055216?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/7473178980357055216/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/fi-sau-nu-fi.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7473178980357055216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7473178980357055216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/fi-sau-nu-fi.html' title='A fi sau a nu fi'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-7875364002194781594</id><published>2009-09-25T23:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T23:31:00.778-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Eu? Nu, ea.</title><content type='html'>Cum pentru toate exista o justificare, cred ca a mea e:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;                   " Asa sunt gemenii!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-7875364002194781594?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/7875364002194781594/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/eu-nu-ea.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7875364002194781594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7875364002194781594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/eu-nu-ea.html' title='Eu? Nu, ea.'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-9098686861304992087</id><published>2009-09-25T04:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T23:26:49.698-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Libertate</title><content type='html'>1. Ce speli prima dată la duş?&lt;br /&gt;... parul, cred :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Care e culoarea ta de helancă preferată?&lt;br /&gt;Cred ca ultima pe care am purtat-o era roz. Culoare preferata... cine mai are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.Îţi place cafeaua?&lt;br /&gt;Dimineata primul lucru si... cu fetele, in oras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Cum te simţi acum?&lt;br /&gt;Obosita si putin stresata de bac. In rest nimic nou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.Care e ultima literă din numele persoanei de care eşti îndrăgostit/ă?&lt;br /&gt;Ultima data cand am verificat era "i". Au trecut vreo 5-6 zile. Sa verific iar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.Care e ultimul vis pe care l-ai avut?&lt;br /&gt;Ar fi indicat sa il spun?...&lt;br /&gt;Eram la mine acasa, o prietena fugise de la parinti. Cobor sa cumpar ceva si pe drum ma intalnesc cu mama ei. Aiurita, uit de micul secret si ii spun unde o gaseste. Cand ma intorc in casa...&lt;br /&gt;...nu mai stiu. A sunat ceasul. Si... m-am trezit cu cafeaua in fata. Restul e istorie:)).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.Ai putea mânca o lună întreagă felul tău de mâncare preferat fără să te saturi de el?&lt;br /&gt;Clar. M-as plictisi in maxim 2 ore... opsss 2 zile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. De ce ai o poftă puternică acum?&lt;br /&gt;Ciocolata. Nu te gandi la nimic,ok?...&lt;br /&gt;Ciocolata mea cu nuci si miere... am regasit-o iar. Intr-o noua editie. Dupa 1-2 ani de pofta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.La ce te gândeşti când auzi cuvântul “varză”?&lt;br /&gt;Sa spun sincer... la varza de pe terasa in care trebuie sa suflu de 2 ori pe zi. Dar cine face asta?!? Eu nu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.Muşti sau lingi îngheţata?&lt;br /&gt;Nu prea am voie sa mananc, din cauza gatului, dar cand apuc... o savurez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.Câte dormitoare are casa ta?&lt;br /&gt;Oficial 2, dar sufrageria s-a transformat si in dormitor. Deci cam 3...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.Ai cunoscut vreodată o celebritate?&lt;br /&gt;Am fost la concerte. Dar fata in fata nu. Dar nici nu cred ca vreau...&lt;br /&gt;Acum ma intreb... &lt;a href="http://deontologu.blogspot.com/"&gt;Cristi&lt;/a&gt; e o celebritate in Severin? Pentru mine, e doar EL. Dar avand in vedere numarul de emisiuni, pe care le-a prezentat... fiecare cu parerea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.Îţi place brânza?&lt;br /&gt;Nu prea des... depinde de zile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.Care e ultima melodie de care ai fost obsedat/ă?&lt;br /&gt;Undeva prin Vama... am cateva saptamani de cand mi-a trecut.&lt;br /&gt;In prezent Chirila imi tot canta Zmeul. Nu pot sa o scot... din cap, bineinteles. Incepe tot timpul la ore... si concertul se termina noaptea, cand adorm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.Câte ţări ai vizitat?&lt;br /&gt;Fara Romania, 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.Ai sări cu paraşuta/parapanta/planorul?&lt;br /&gt;Da, daca ar mai fi un nebun langa mine... si mi-ar zice mereu: "Poti sa o faci!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. E ceva strălucitor în camera ta?&lt;br /&gt;Mintea mea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.Ouă albe sau maro?&lt;br /&gt;Le prefer pe cele de la Paste. Deci rosul e culoarea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.Îţi place muzica?&lt;br /&gt;Deloc... Oareunde mi-am pus castile?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Ai intrat vreodată într-un zid?&lt;br /&gt;Am dat "putin" cu capul intr-un panou de publicitate. Se pune?&lt;br /&gt;Nu a fost vina mea. Eram mica... si era doar in mijlocul strazii. Nu l-am observat. Era cam mic... sau prea mare?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21.Anotimpul preferat?&lt;br /&gt;Vara= mare... deci clar: VARA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.Adormi cu televizorul deschis?&lt;br /&gt;Calculatorul... mereu sunt idle. Oare de ce? (A, ai ceva de spus? In apararea mea, bineinteles.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23.Ai băut vreodată alcool direct din sticlă?&lt;br /&gt;Sampanie la majorat... nu am mai putut astepta. Si oricum sunt cam mici paharele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24.Crezi că eşti bătrân/ă?&lt;br /&gt;As vrea sa fiu iar in gimnaziu. Fetele stiu de ce.&lt;br /&gt;In general... eu sunt aia mica, dar nu foarte mica. Deci nu cred ca sunt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Finiş. Vă vine să credeţi?&lt;br /&gt;"Nu iubi cand esti eleva, ca nu sti nimic la teza." Asta nu o sa uit niciodata...&lt;br /&gt;E din primul meu oracol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gata... oracol la 18 ani;;) dupa aproape 6-7 ani in care nu am mai completat si nu am mai auzit de unul. M-am descurat bine?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-9098686861304992087?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/9098686861304992087/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/libertate.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9098686861304992087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9098686861304992087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/libertate.html' title='Libertate'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-9198633439695727484</id><published>2009-09-23T11:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T12:54:09.653-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Septembrie...</title><content type='html'>Plaja pustie, un vin alb, o tigara lasata pe nisip, o chitara care rasuna, marea care o acompaniaza, luna priveste, stele sunt multe... suna telefonul. Deschizi ochii si te trezesti. Esti in camera ta. Tavanul e neschimbat de cand parintii tai s-au hotarat sa renoveze. Dulapul e la locul lui. Si calculatorul e conectat. Iti dai seama ca ai visat si incepi sa iti doresti sa te intorci.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atunci iti amintesti de telefon si raspunzi:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- 21:00, la mine... singura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atat iti trebuie sa auzi. Arunci privirea lenesa pe ceas. Nu e prea tarziu. Asa ca te hotarasti sa te ridici usor din pat, sa te speli pe fata si sa incepi sa cauti prin casa lucruri de care ai nevoie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E 9 si 10 minute, inchizi bine usa. O verifici de 3 ori. Cifra magica isi face tot timpul datoria. Pleci... pe drum asculti muzica ta preferata. Si incepi sa te simti bine. Telefonul e aruncat in geanta si suna... suna, suna, suna... Nu auzi. Muzica urla in casti. Ajungi la locul de intalnire. Stii ca ai intarziat asa ca scoti alene telefonul. Ai doar 3 apeluri ratate. Cifra magica apare iar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A e deja nervoasa. Se stramba si intra in magazin. Acolo incepe sa rada... de tine, de sticle sau de vanzatoare. Nimeni nu stie de ce. Dar stii ca si tu razi. Pur si simplu razi. De ce? Cumperi... si iar apare cifra magica. Nu stii ce sa mai crezi. Esti cumva urmarit de ea? Te scarpini in cap si ajungi la A. E liniste si pace, doar un caine latra... inca nu te cunoaste. Vorbesti cu el si deja e fericit. Totul e la rece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inainte de a incepe, se aplica teorema barfei. Fiecare ce cu cine, cand si unde a facut... afli repede ultimele noutati. Hi5-ul nu minte niciodata. Razi... muzica canta, cainele latra. E exact cum trebuie... si asteptam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa un timp te hotarasti sa suni... cei care intarzie deja s-au ratacit pe drum? Nu, nu inca...&lt;br /&gt;... si ajung, in sfarsit. Te duci la frigider si scoti tot ce era mai important. Le pui pe masa si...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-9198633439695727484?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/9198633439695727484/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/septembrie.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9198633439695727484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9198633439695727484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/septembrie.html' title='Septembrie...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3058764802310262746</id><published>2009-09-19T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T04:30:29.652-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Transparenta vietii</title><content type='html'>Te iubesc. Aud asta zi de zi. La coltul blocului meu mereu e cineva care simte asta. In fata liceului mii de cupluri se imbratiseaza. Ajung in clasa si alte persoane isi tintesc priviri ce soptesc asta... totul se leaga de cele 2 cuvinte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te iubesc e pe buzele si in sufletul tuturor. Totul e iubire, magie... viata. Nu poti spune ca respiri, daca nu iubesti. Nu poti spune ca iubesti fara magie. Nu poti spune ca iubesti, fara sa traiesti. Iubire avem, daruim si primim. Dar... uneori, cel mai frumos e atunci cand magia face cuplu cu nepasarea, indiferenta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand incepi sa iubesti, uiti sa gandesti. Incepi sa visezi. Uiti de tine si de orice altceva... esti doar Tu... si El. Am invatat ca iubirea e oarba, dar stim ca iubirea interzisa e cea mai fascinanta, mai puternica. Desi stii ca el priveste prin tine, tu devi mai razbunatoare si ti-l doresti un pic mai mult. E un pic mai intepator. De cele mai multe ori iubesti, desi nu cunosti. De ce? Pentru ca iti doresti mai mult... mai mult mister, mai multa noutate, mai multa fericire?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M-am intrebat mereu de ce inselam? De ce? Nu putem trai fara? Nu stiu, inca nu am rezolvat misterul. Inca sunt de parere ca atunci cand inselam numai avem nevoie de cel de langa noi. Si atunci de ce nu rupem legatura? Pentru ca de cele mai multe ori nu e adevarul. Avem nevoie si de altcineva... sau e doar adrenalina? Sau sa fie placerea de a sti ca inca suntem independenti? Nu stiu. Dar ma gandesc mereu ca are legatura cu iubirea interzisa, pacatul suprem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ce ar mai fi reguli daca nu le-am incalca? De ce ar mai fi zambete, daca nu ne-ar curge lacrimi? De ce am mai trai fara iubire? De ce?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... pentru ca ne place. Pentru ca toate se leaga. Pentru ca asa suntem noi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In viata am observat ca ne place exact ce nu putem atinge sau ce e foarte greu de ajuns. De aici a aparut intrebarea: "Eu de ce nu pot?". Poti, dar nu inseamna ca iti si doresti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mica fiind mi-am dorit sa nu mai fiu creata. Acum parul meu brunet e din ce in ce mai drept. Nu stiu ce miracol a facut asta. Nu stiu daca dorinta sau doar hormonii adolescentei... Dar acum as da orice pentru un minim de bucle. Dar nu cred ca miracolul se mai intoarce. Asa e si in iubire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa ce ajungem in varful muntelui, vrem iar in campia ce ne-a fost alaturi mereu. Dupa toata munca depusa, vrem iar la inceput. Dupa ce toata copilaria visezi la maturitate, incepi sa iti doresti iar sa te intorci printre papusi si vise nespulberate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asa e viata?...fara schimbari si vise nu am mai putea trai, nu am mai avea ce ne dori. Daca toti am fi perfecti, oare pamantul s-ar mai invarti? Nu stiu, dar nu cred ca mi-as dori sa aflu... Nu vreau sa mai schimb nimic. Vreau ca timpul sa se opreasca un minut. Sa ma bucur de acum, nu de viitor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si sa ma pierd... in prezent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3058764802310262746?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3058764802310262746/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/transparenta-vietii.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3058764802310262746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3058764802310262746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/transparenta-vietii.html' title='Transparenta vietii'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-4526767497190512036</id><published>2009-09-19T02:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T02:53:19.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Relatia mea cu fotografia</title><content type='html'>“Fotografia este un secret despre secret. Cu cat iti spune mai mult, cu atat vei intelege mai putin ”                                                                          Diane Arbust&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Fotografia, cu trecerea anilor a devenit o meserie, dar totul a inceput de la o pasiune. Pasiunea pentru frumusete si emotie se etaleaza in majoritatea fotografiilor din jurul nostru. O fotografie, care stie sa impresioneze, este facuta doar din pasiune si emotie  pentru realitatea captata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Desi meseria de fotograf este una bine platita, acestia nu uita sa atribuie fotografiei sentimente, trairi, emotii personale. O fotografie are intotdeauna o bucatica din personalitatea creatorului, asternuta ca semnatura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Zi de zi, in jurul meu observ miile de bannere ce atarna grandioas peste un hotel sau bloc, reclamele din reviste imi zambesc incercand sa promoveze. Agentiile de turism umplu orasul cu imagini din alte tari pentru a ne alege planurile de vacanta. In saloanele de coafura ne sunt prezentate fete pentru a ne decide, la intrarea in magazine  sunt reclame mari cu un produs si o persoana publica ne indeamna sa cumparam. In mai putin cuvinte fotografia din industria comertului promoveaza diferite lucruri prin tehnica de ” a atrage privirea.”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fotografia este fololsita si la concursurile de miss. Pentru a nu se isca conflicte,fetele sunt prezentate juriului inaintea concursului doar prin fotografie. Gasim cereri ale angajatorilor de a gasi in C.V. o fotografie de tip portret.  De multe ori instructiunile de ansamblare a unui lucru sunt prin fotografi. In calendare apar diverse cadre pentru a infrumuseta. Pe internet producatorii vand produsele doar prin imagine si text.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In viata mea fotografia este doar o pasiune. Fotografiile mele sunt peisaje descrise in culori, anotimpuri pierdute, personaje in decor, frumusetea singuratatii si inaltimile muntilor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fotografia face cat o mie de cuvinte. Nu poti povesti frumusetea unui peisaj, pentru ca sunt prea putine cuvinte. Nu poti descrie zambetul unui copil fericit, culoarea florilor, albastrul cerului sau puritatea apei. Nu poti simti personalitatea fotografului mai bine decat prin pasiunea sa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O fotografie poate ajunge un mit, pentru ca frumusetea ei e unica si poate indescifrabila. Poate fi simpla doar atunci cand cei ce o admira nu pot simti nimic. Nu poate fi considerata o fotografie proasta, doar una cu o alta viziune. Fotografie este un lant de sentimente, emotii, frumusete si este caracteristica fotografului.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is like a good black and white photograph, there’s black, there’s white, and lots of shades in between. - Karl Heiner&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-4526767497190512036?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/4526767497190512036/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/relatia-mea-cu-fotografia.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4526767497190512036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4526767497190512036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/relatia-mea-cu-fotografia.html' title='Relatia mea cu fotografia'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3084666341524090987</id><published>2009-09-19T00:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T01:30:41.192-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Puzzle cu viata II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SrSLIk6y_SI/AAAAAAAAAMA/ajnTOgxRT3Q/s1600-h/IMG_0934.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383080434080087330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SrSLIk6y_SI/AAAAAAAAAMA/ajnTOgxRT3Q/s400/IMG_0934.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Vrei sa te ascunzi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SrSLIYQ9wFI/AAAAAAAAAL4/serx4oI9VpI/s1600-h/IMG_0896.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383080430683406418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SrSLIYQ9wFI/AAAAAAAAAL4/serx4oI9VpI/s400/IMG_0896.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Te pierzi in vise, dar te trezesti in realitate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SrSLJDpjk0I/AAAAAAAAAMI/YFCDAQMkww8/s1600-h/IMG_0924.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383080442329273154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SrSLJDpjk0I/AAAAAAAAAMI/YFCDAQMkww8/s400/IMG_0924.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Viata... se schimba cand nici nu te astepti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3084666341524090987?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3084666341524090987/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/puzzle-cu-viata-ii.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3084666341524090987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3084666341524090987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/puzzle-cu-viata-ii.html' title='Puzzle cu viata II'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SrSLIk6y_SI/AAAAAAAAAMA/ajnTOgxRT3Q/s72-c/IMG_0934.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-8233159622834808781</id><published>2009-09-16T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T09:18:58.733-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Noapte de mai II</title><content type='html'>Un sarut umed, vascos si unic... ne-am pierdut in el. Am uitat de timp si lume. Auzeam doar marea. Spuma era mai alba, valurile erau mai dese si mai furioase. Eram fericiti ca marea ne ofera un spatiu romantic si ne poate ocroti. Vantul batea inca cu putere, dar noi doi nu il mai simteam. Eram in bratele lui. Ma strangea cu putere, vroia sa ma simta mai aproape sau doar dorinta de a nu pleca de langa el. Nu am aflat inca. Nu am vrut sa intreb. Imi placea starea pe care mi-o dadea aceasta imbratisare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Priveam marea si nu ne trebuia nimic mai mult. Nici vorbe, care sa se lege de cuvinte. Nici ganduri, doar priviri si saruturi. Ne pierdeam in zare si era unic. Era o senzatie de protectie, iubire. Toate amestecate cu mirosul de mare. Nu am vorbit, dar cum deja trecuse de ora 2 am decis sa ramanem la rasarit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne intindem iar pe spate. Il strang cu putere de mana. Il privesc in ochii sai, mai inchisi, ce sclipeau. Nu am putut sa ii spun asta. De ce? Nu stiu. Am inchis ochii sa ma asigur ca nu visez, dar am inceput sa visez. Nu imi mai amintesc... stiu doar ca atunci cand i-am deschis iar el ma privea. Mainile noastre erau inca impreuna. Soarele nu rasarise. Totul era exact asa cum il lasasem, doar ca era putin mai multa lumina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il salut. Primele noastre cuvinte din noaptea aia. Zambeste si purtam o conversatie despre mine. Imi spune despre visul meu. Nu mi-l mai aminteam. Dar el spune ca am inceput sa vorbesc. Realizez repede ca nu e ceva prea bun sa vorbim despre visul meu si schimb subiectul. Il intreb de foile pentru discursul de a doua zi. Le scoate din bucunar. Mi le arata, apoi isi aprinde o tigara. O fumeaza cu putere. Incep sa rad, cand vad ca nu au trecut 2 minute si deja a terminat-o.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Privim iar marea. Suntem iar imbratisati, dar acum vorbim. Vorbim despre tot ce putem sa ne legam. Incepem sa ne cunoastem mai bine... doar petrecusem o noapte impreuna. E deja 5 si ceva. Ma bucur cand aflu pentru ca rasaritul nu era departe. Zambim si ne reamintim de noaptea care inca nu s-a terminat. Incepem sa ne sarutam sub motiv de amintire. Si ne simtim minunat impreuna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E deja ora rasaritului. Lumina e deja langa noi. Acum asteptam soarele...&lt;br /&gt;...asteptam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa 30 de minute, am decis ca am asteptat destul... Nu, nu e un rasarit. E un rasarit cu nori. Nu stiu de ce nu am putut termina noaptea intr-un mod superb. Dar el imi da raspunsul: "L-am eclipsat.". Si atunci zambesc iar. Stie sa ma faca fericita, doar prin cuvinte. Ne indreptam impreuna spre hotelul unde eram cazati. Era ultima zi. Ziua cea mare, cea pentru care am venit aici.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avem de urcat cateva scari. Suntem la ultimul etaj. Dupa noi un catel ne urmeaza. Ma joc putin cu el... e alb cu negru si imi aminteste de a mea. Il pierdem in spatele nostru. Ajungem in fata usii de la camera mea. Ma cuprinde in brate si ma saruta de parca nu m-ar mai fi vazut de cativa ani. Il strang si eu pe el. Imi da drumu si il privesc cum se intoarce cu spatele. Intra in camera lui, iar eu raman ca o umbra... si privesc in gol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La mine in camera e liniste. Vad un singur ochi deschis, care incearca sa ma regaseasca in amintire. Dar nu reuseste. Patul meu e deja ocupat. Gasesc doar unul gol, dar plin cu haine. Imi fac loc. Ma asez... si inchid ochii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu cat a durat, dar aud o bataie in usa.Nu a provocat nicio modificare. Toate fetele dorm, nici nu s-au intors. Ies speriata sa deschid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E el... si zambeste.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-8233159622834808781?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/8233159622834808781/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/noapte-de-mai-ii.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8233159622834808781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8233159622834808781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/noapte-de-mai-ii.html' title='Noapte de mai II'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3913836097028796691</id><published>2009-09-15T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T04:35:27.338-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Noapte de mai I</title><content type='html'>E noaptea. E ora 11. E intuneric, lumina e stinsa. Esti singur. Vezi formele, dar nu vrei si nu sti sa le indentifici. Nu sti inca bine camera. Nu o iubesti si nu e a ta. Nu esti aici decat de 2 zile. Nu ai stat prea mult sa analizezi si nici nu vrei. Si atunci te apuca gandurile. Visezi la viitor si deschizi cartea cu amintirile din trecut. Te pierzi in ele, dar uiti de prezent. Pe el unde l-ai lasat? Cui l-ai lasat? Si atunci o voce ce iti striga numele se apropie de tine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se deschide usa. E D. O cunosti de cativa ani si ea te stie mai bine ca oricine. O privesti in ochi si ii spui ca te gandesti la anumite lucruri. Ea stie ce e in minte ta, dar glasul ei dulce si viu te ridica si pe tine la viata. Cuvintele ei mari si tari se imprastie in toata camera, dar tot ce tu poti sa auzi e marea. Marea care intra pe geamul intredeschis. Marea care e aproape de tine, caci hotelul care stai e pe plaja. Si atunci iti dai seama ce vrei...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In cateva minute arunci hainele pe tine si usa e deja inchisa. Te trezesti pe o plaja intinsa si delimitata doar de mare si o strada, pe care rar auzi o masina. Porti o converstie despre o tema deja dezbatuta, dar nu poti sa gandesti. Esti prea pierdut in tot ce e in jurul tau. Nu te poti concentra. Te intinzi... asculti marea, vantul sopteste cuvinte dulci valurilor, stelele te privesc, stralucesc si sunt fericite, nisipul iti invadeaza parul, iar in palma ta il strangi cu putere... o scoica te asculta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D e langa mine. Ascultam impreuna marea si vantul. Ne pierdem usor. Cu ochii larg deschisi ajungem sa visam. Nu am intrebat-o la ce viseaza ea. Eu stiam la ce visez eu si imi era deajuns. Deodata... un caine latra. E din ce in ce mai aproape, dar se opreste. Ne ridicam sa privim mai atente si vedem o umbra. Umbra mergatoare. E inalta si nu se distinge nimic. Dar o aud pe D:" El e.".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il las sa ajunga in dreptul nostru. Si il strig. Nu raspunde. Dar umbra mergatoare se apropie de noi. Zambesc, dar nimeni nu ma vede. Noaptea are grija de asta. Ajunge in fata noastra. Stiam ca nu ne-am inselat. Se aseaza langa noi, fara sa spuna nimic. Nu a scos un sunet sau un cuvant. El e. El e baiatul inalt si brunet. El e sotul marii. El a cerut-o de sotie. El o iubeste. El e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E inceputul verii. E jumatatea lui mai. Vantul incepe sa isi faca simtita prezenta mai tare. Noi privim marea. Nimeni nu a mai spus nimic. Nu am putut intrelupe o discutie intre sotie si el. Mai ales acum cand el tace. Tocmai barbatul. Toti suntem linistiti si fericiti. Nu discuta, nu comunicam, doar privim, gandim, analizam. Ne pierdem in linistea marii... cand valurile imbratiseaza digurile, spuma e densa, vantul saruta marea, nisipul o imbratiseaza, scoicile o privesc nemiscate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa cateva minute, D se ridica in picioare. Isi aminteste ca uitase ceva. Ramanem singuri. Noi doi si marea. Ne intindem pe spate si simtim iar nisipul peste tot. Mana mea se joaca prin nisip pana cand o intalneste pe a lui. Se leaga, ne simtim, iar apoi ne privim. Ochi in ochi fara sa scoatem o vorba, fara sa clipim, nu mai puteam gandi... ne pierdeam in privirea ceiluilalt. Era frumos. Eram perfecti. Eram fericiti. Un fir de par ne-a facut sa ne apropiem mai mult si...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acum vorbele erau sarturi, stelele erau ochii, vantul era atingerea, spuma marii era fericirea...&lt;br /&gt;Ne-am pierdut... si marea ne privea. Zambeam fara motiv, ochii erau fericiti. Un caine se aseaza langa noi. Sta cuminte in locul lui D. La inceput radeam, dar apoi ne privim iar, ne amintim de noi doi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...si ne pierdem iar intr-un sarut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381783195856354306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sq_vTX8vPAI/AAAAAAAAALw/i526csdslXg/s320/DSC01426.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3913836097028796691?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3913836097028796691/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/noapte-de-mai.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3913836097028796691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3913836097028796691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/noapte-de-mai.html' title='Noapte de mai I'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sq_vTX8vPAI/AAAAAAAAALw/i526csdslXg/s72-c/DSC01426.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-4487354704050486857</id><published>2009-09-15T04:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T05:22:43.122-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Prima intalnire</title><content type='html'>E seara... vara. E ora 8 si un pic. Ea ajunge. Ascunsa, deschisa posteta, scoate grabita oglinda si priveste atent in ea. Se vede, se admira si incepe sa zambeasca. A prins curaj. E fericita si arata asta. Misca genele senzual, buzele sunt atent lustruite, parul e perfect aranjat, iar tinuta o carcaterizeaza. E bine. E perfect pentru o intalnire... Se simte bine. Si atitudinea e tot ce conteaza acum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paseste cu incredere si iese din ascunzatoarea dedicata privirii in oglinda. Il vede si cu un gest delicat arunca o privire la ceasul ce straluceste la mana. E perfect, a intarziat exact timpul in care era ascunsa pentru a prinde incredere. Sunt exact 5 minute trecute peste ora 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El e aranjat. Parfumul lui deja il simti adus de vant. Barba lui e exact cum trebuie. Parul nu e prea mult aranjat. Iar camasa ii vine perfect. Zambeste atunci cand o zareste si incepe sa ii urmareasca fiecare pas. Repede isi da seama ca nu s-a gandit ca vor face la intalnire asa ca incearca sa improvizeze. In stanga lui vede un bar si stie ca e unul din locul preferat al fetelor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ajunsa la el, ea priveste atenta alunita de pe obrazul stang. Ii place. Zambeste, se saluta si asteapta cateva cuvinte de la el. Dar el nu prea poate. E fermecat de ea. Se inroseste putin, dar nu se poate observa. E totul aranajat incat sa nu poti fi luat prin surprindere. In cele din urma reuseste sa ii sugereze barul de langa ei. Ea refuza politicos si ii cere o plimbare prin parc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu e prea departe, ajung repede. E vara, soare acum incearca sa apuna,dar inca nu a reusit. Se privesc, dar nu exista cuvinte. Totul e compus din zambete. Mainile ii tremura, asa ca decide sa isi aprinda o tigara. Ea nu stie. Nu a mai fumat. Nu a incercat. Nu a avut cu cine. El o priveste lung, iar ea ii cere gratios o tigara. Incearca sa o aprinda. Nu reuseste. El o ajuta, iar apropierea a adus la un sarut. E moale, e delicat si foarte dulce. E primul sarut din viata ei. E prima tigara din mana ei. O tine delicat, dar e inca putin socata de sarutul lor. A fost scurt, dar a meritat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ea isi atinge cu o mana buzele. Sunt tot acolo, dar mult mai fericite. El fumeaza grav si incearca sa faca o conversatie. Ea incearca sa fumeze. Reuseste. El o rasplateste cu un alt sarut. De data asta, e putin mai lung si mai intens.  O ia in brate... ochii lor stralucesc de fericire si dorinta. Nu se cunosc prea bine, dar amandoi stiu ca se vor iubi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isi desface stramtoarea... ii da drumul. Ea se piede in ochii lui si ii ajunge in suflet. Il citeste ca pe o carte. E atenta, surpinsa si o urma de fericire ii invadeaza corpul si fata... E el. Baiatul mult visat. Singurul, care ii provoaca fluturasi. Singurul, in care are incredere ca o v-a face fericita. Singurul, care e pe gustul ei. Singurul, care ii produce scantei in privire...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-4487354704050486857?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/4487354704050486857/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/prima-intalnire.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4487354704050486857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4487354704050486857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/prima-intalnire.html' title='Prima intalnire'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-8112582524903826368</id><published>2009-09-15T04:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T05:24:08.928-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Rana superficiala</title><content type='html'>Dupa ani si ani incep sa realizez ca viata se schimba. Totul se schimba. Nimic nu ramane intact. De la cupluri la despartire, de la prieteni la dezamagire, de la iubire la ura, de la privire la sarut, de la a fi la a pierde, de zambet la lacrima, de la a avea si a pierde, de la gelozie la superficialitate, de la mine la tine... toate se schimba continuu si repede.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gandurile sau incercarile de a pastra ceva in stare initiala sunt esuate. Nu poti, nu ai cum, e nevoie de puteri malefice, pe care nimeni nu le-a intalnit sau avut vreodata. Vreau sa opresc timpul. Vreau ca totul sa ramana neschimbat o clipa. Vreau sa am timp de vise. Vreau sa visez la mare si la iubire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daca timpul trece si totul se schimba incep sa privesc in urma mea. Il asez langa prezent si incep sa compar. Se intalnesc doua veri... doi ani. Cineva m-a pierdut in spatele lui, iar eu i-am devenit umbra. Cineva mi-a zambit dupa ce ne-am certat. Cineva a plecat si a lasat in urma doar amintiru. Cineva... din 3 cupluri, 2 nu mai sunt. Din 3 zile s-au schimbat in 2 nopti... 10 priviri au ajuns la un sarut, iar o cearta a insemnat eliberare. O decizie... fericire. E greu... a trecut mult. Am inceput sa simt, sa ating, sa visez... dar nu am reusit sa opresc timpul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Timp, incotro mergi?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-8112582524903826368?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/8112582524903826368/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/rana-superficiala.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8112582524903826368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8112582524903826368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/rana-superficiala.html' title='Rana superficiala'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-8765906921536902682</id><published>2009-09-14T04:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T06:17:09.554-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Ani de Liceu</title><content type='html'>Prima zi de scoala... inceputul unui nou an sau sfarsit unui capitol din viata? Inceput de sfarsit... ar fi cea mai buna exprimare, pe care o gasesc acum. Daca as vrea sa povestesc prima zi de scoala in ultimul an de liceu as spune doar atat: "Am fost fericita." Nu as da detalii, nu as mentiona nimic... Simbolul fericirii se citea ca de pe o tabla... zambeam, povesteam si eram mandre... stiam ca suntem noi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noi... un cuvant mare si puternic, rar intalnit cu adevarat. Nu stiu daca la noi este... dar momentan suntem fericite. Cel mai mult eu, da... recunosc. Prima zi de scoala nu a provocat decat noi priviri, idei stiute sau nu, frumusetea tinutelor atent alese, schimbari radicale... fericire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daca arunc privirea putin in spate ma gandesc doar la ziua de ieri... ultima zi de vacanta. Am inteles ca este ultima vacanta acasa... fara griji, examene. Ultima vacanta intreaga plina de relaxare... prima care a trecut in 2 minute, desi au fost 3 luni. Incerc sa-mi amintesc fiecare frantura din vacanta, dar nu pot... pentru ca in fiecare zi stiam ca e prea scurta... si precizam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultima zi de vacanta... a fost plina de idei, amintiri, regrete si ganduri la viitor. Nu, nu la viitorul de azi... si la cel de peste ani. Viitorul care depinde de momentul de acum, de alegerile de acum... acum azi, momentul acesta, fara alte secunde in plus. Viitorul in care alegi. Si am ales... sper ca am ales Drept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azi am vazut doar zambete, fericire si multe emotii... La noi au lipsit emotiile, ne cunoastem deja de foarte mult timp si stim vom fi iar o mare familie cu certurile si rautatiile ei. Dar mai stim ca fara persoanele care cauzeaza asta... nu ar mai fi nimic frumos. De ce? Pentru ca nu ne-am mai bucura de noi, nu am mai fi asa fericite... si poate nu am mai avea subiect de discutie asa elaborat. Totul s-ar reduce la haine si scoala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Priveam in jur si vedeam buchete de flori, haine noi,prieteni vechi si multe zambete. Pe buzele tuturor rasuna ca un poem: Ce ai facut vara asta? Cel mai vechi prieten era Liceul... il stim de 7 ani, desi am trecut in gradul de liceu deabia acum 3 ani. Il stim de pe vremea, in care baietii din clasa a XI a erau un mit, o frumusete, fructul interzis. Il stim de pe vremea, in care pentru a vorbi cu cineva inroseam automot. De pe vremea, in care doar visam la o rochie eleganta si suava. De pe vremea, in care majoratele erau departe....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acum noi suntem undeva departe... undeva unde stiu ca am mai fost cand ma pierdeam in intamplarile atent ascultate... Cateodata cred ca am mai trecut prin liceu. Dar nu, pentru ca acum sunt eu cea care traieste, respira si simte...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stiu ca unori vreau sa se termine capitolul vietii numit Liceu, dar mereu imi voi aminti de &lt;em&gt;Viata Din Liceu.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-8765906921536902682?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/8765906921536902682/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/ani-de-liceu.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8765906921536902682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8765906921536902682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/ani-de-liceu.html' title='Ani de Liceu'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-2705326942515309671</id><published>2009-09-04T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T13:10:08.090-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Criza de timp</title><content type='html'>Ziua trece prea repede. Secundele zboara ca sutele de fluturi spre cer, iar eu raman in spatele lor privindu-le, admirandu-le libertatea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-2705326942515309671?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/2705326942515309671/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/criza-de-timp.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2705326942515309671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2705326942515309671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/criza-de-timp.html' title='Criza de timp'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3227518014968940732</id><published>2009-09-04T23:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T23:31:30.446-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Universul relatiilor</title><content type='html'>Iubirea vine la pachet cu increderea si frumusetea sufletului. Sunt ca niste tripleti.... nu s-au gandit sa fie impreuna, dar sunt... Toate la pret de unul. Daca pierzi una, toate se darama. Fara incredere nu poti sa iubesti, iar frumusetea sufletului ii da culoarea. Una fara alta nu ar exista... aceeasi idee ca intr-un cuplu. Unu fara altu nu exista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Privesc in jur si vad multe relatii false. Sunt acele relatii care copiaza iubirea. Sunt frumoase in exterior, dar mancate de viermi in interior. Am invatat ca primul vierme al relatiilor e gelozia, iar cu ea dispare si increderea. Relatia nu devine falsa doar pentru a demonstra ceva celor din jur, cuplul imita pentru a se simti intreg, desi e sfarmat in mii si mii de bucatele. Cu gelozia vine si dezamagirea si asa marul se umple de viermi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In viata nu exista doar relatii false. Nu traiesti doar in minciuna. Mai exista si relatiile secrete, care te umplu de fericire, chiar daca nu poti arata. E vorba de acele relatii, in care doar un zambet de al lui te umple de fericire, iar doar o privire te face fericita. E genul de relatie, in care nu ai nevoie de prea mult pentru a intelege... ii asculti tacerea, ii iubesti privirea, fara vorbe sau greseli, fara gelozie si dezamagire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doar la el te gandesti si crezi ca ai putea avea o relatie perfecta cu el. Doar ca realizezi ca ai o imaginatie bogata, pentru ca tu nu il poti cunoaste asa de bine. Si aici apare teama... Teama ca nu e asa cum tu ti l-ai imaginat. Teama ca relatia poate deveni una falsa, daca nu poti sa comunici. Teama de dezamagire. E relatia cea mai frumoasa, doar pentru faptul ca tu il desenezi dupa placerile si dorintele tale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relatia perfecta e greu de gasit, dar dureaza cel mai mult. Ii spun perfecta pentru ca e singura care conteaza cu adevarat. Relatia perfecta nu se leaga de minciuni, dezamagiri, lacrimi sau imaginatie. E singura adevarata, palpabila si produce cele mai frumoase amintiri. Dupa ea conturezi relatia secreta. Relatia perfecta nu o gasesti la piata sau la coltul blocului... e ascunsa bine. Dar pentru a o gasi, trebuie sa o cauti. Iubirea perfecta nu incepe cu frumusetea fizica a unui personaj ca in relatia secreta sau cu imaginea din fata a unu cuplu din relatia falsa. Relatia perfecta inseamna tot ce poti, vrei si inveti sa oferi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nimeni nu s-a nascut invatat. Nimeni nu a stiut sa se comporte in relatia perfecta. Dar toate se invata, se iarta, se iubesc si se daruiesc. Relatia perfecta nu apare ca oricare relatie: "s-au vazut, s-au placut... ". Nu... relatia perfecta incepe cu incredere, cu simpatie, cu atingerile calde ale vietii, cu o prietenie simpla. Dupa incredere apare frumusetea sufletului si sentimentele. Totul vine singur, fara sa fortezi sau sa iti doresti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desi totul incepe lenes, relatia devine cea mai plina de sentimente, explozii si e... perfecta. Nu iubesti pentru ca vrei, ci pentru ca poti. Iubirea perfecta fara impuritati in care fractiunea de secunda nu exista, in care totul e fara epilari sau vopsea, in care armonia se asterne. Iubirea perfecta poate fi mereu langa tine, dar nu poti vedea pentru ca esti prins in celelalte tipuri de relatie. Relatia perfecta poate fi atunci cand nimeni nu are incredere in voi doi. Daca voi o aveti lumea nu exista. Tu esti pentru el... el pentru tine. Si atat. E perfect... atat e perfect. Nimeni nu mai e cu voi doi pe lume...&lt;br /&gt;Iubirea perfecta nu o poti uita niciodata...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iubirea poate sa apara inainte sau dupa ce recunosti ca iubesti o floare, un animal, prietena cea mai buna, mama, tata, locul in care te-ai nascut si te-ai maturizat. Iubirea nu tine cont de nimeni si nimic, caci ea ea mai presus de tot si toate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iubesti... Traiesti... Simti... Visezi.&lt;br /&gt;E viata adevarata.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3227518014968940732?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3227518014968940732/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/universul-relatiilor.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3227518014968940732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3227518014968940732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/09/universul-relatiilor.html' title='Universul relatiilor'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-4525201319125783491</id><published>2009-08-29T03:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T03:49:29.326-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Aura vietii</title><content type='html'>Prima iubire incepe in bratele mamei cand deschizi ochii tai mici si nestiutori. In bratele ei totul pare mare, fumos, armonios si plin de culoare. Primul zambet, prima clipire, primul cuvant i se adreseaza ei, mamei. Desi nu poti sa vorbesti, intelegi tot pentru ca o poti privi in suflet. Desi nu ai facut niciodata cunostiinta cu ea, stii ca ea e mama ta . Si desi viata ta s-a maturizat, sufletul traieste alaturi de ea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Singura persoana in care mereu poti avea incredere, singura care te protejeaza, singura care crede in tine, singura care nu te v-a uita niciodata e mama, mama ta. Iubesti atat de multe din viata ta, dar nimic nu e mai presus decat iubirea pentru mama. E iubirea unica, frumoasa si singura care ramane indiferent de obstacolele vietii. E cea mai scumpa iubire pentru ca&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SpkG59AwLrI/AAAAAAAAALY/Lc6d3ePy3oo/s1600-h/198_7_87.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375335222943428274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SpkG59AwLrI/AAAAAAAAALY/Lc6d3ePy3oo/s320/198_7_87.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; nimeni si nimic nu o poate schimba, pierde sau micsora. Nimeni nu iti poate inlocui iubirea pentru cea careia i-ai rostit pentru prima data numele. Nimic nu poate sa iti ia amintirile, lucrurile si sentimentele pentru cea care stie totul despre tine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mama e cea care desparte binele de rau, delimiteaza realitatea de vise, dar niciodata nu uita de tine, de viata ta. Doar alaturi de mama ta poti asculta sasaitul vietii si poti gasi libertatea gandirii. Mama este universul tau, povestea ta, trecutul, prezentul si viitorul tau....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fara iubirea pentru mama nu poti trai.Ea e singura care conteaza...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;La multi ani, mama!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-4525201319125783491?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/4525201319125783491/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/aura-vietii.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4525201319125783491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4525201319125783491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/aura-vietii.html' title='Aura vietii'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SpkG59AwLrI/AAAAAAAAALY/Lc6d3ePy3oo/s72-c/198_7_87.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-6598882909495478663</id><published>2009-08-25T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T08:49:00.332-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Blue</title><content type='html'>- Filozofezi? &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Despre tine...?&lt;br /&gt;- Fericire.&lt;br /&gt;- Fericire e cand dormi tu la ea...&lt;br /&gt;- Fericire e cand inoti in ea...cand o simti si...&lt;br /&gt;- Si o poti privi in ochi?&lt;br /&gt;- Nu are ochi... nu are nevoie. E frumoasa. Unica... albastra, mare.&lt;br /&gt;- Defecte?&lt;br /&gt;- Cand te chinui sa o scoti din urechi?&lt;br /&gt;- Tot mai frumos e noaptea.&lt;br /&gt;- Noaptea nu bate blitzul, nu o pot fotografia...&lt;br /&gt;- Noaptea nu oricine iti poate vedea iubirea... fericirea.&lt;br /&gt;- ... imi place cum gandesti.&lt;br /&gt;- Oricum fericirea nu tine mult.&lt;br /&gt;- Tine cat un sejur... 10 sau 7 zile.&lt;br /&gt;- Vrei sa te mai duci?&lt;br /&gt;- Intrebare capcana?&lt;br /&gt;- Anul acesta...&lt;br /&gt;- Mai ai nisipul?&lt;br /&gt;- E tot acolo... nici apa nu lipseste. Am mai adaugat niste scoici. Dar nimic nu s-a pierdut.&lt;br /&gt;- Cea din Vama e tot acolo. Indispensabila.&lt;br /&gt;- A o poarta la gat. Mereu cu ea. Mereu alaturi de inima ei.&lt;br /&gt;- Incep sa ma bucur... e bine de stiut ca nu suntem singurii nebuni.&lt;br /&gt;- I-am povestit de tine... la mare.&lt;br /&gt;- Deci... indirect ma cunoaste.&lt;br /&gt;- Putin...&lt;br /&gt;- ... mai mult.&lt;br /&gt;- Am inceput cu zodia... si mi-a spus: "Cunosc" .&lt;br /&gt;- Asa previzibil sunt?&lt;br /&gt;- Stelele astea...&lt;br /&gt;- ...oare?&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373923940698488978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SpQDWg9NAJI/AAAAAAAAALA/mcB2oKpJb0A/s200/stele.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Si gandurile la mare?&lt;br /&gt;- Ma mai invioreaza...&lt;br /&gt;- Tot acelasi ai ramas...&lt;br /&gt;- Credeai ca am pocnit din degete si am fost doar atunci asa?&lt;br /&gt;- Nu stiu ce sa mai cred...&lt;br /&gt;- Din ce motiv? Ca... am disparut?&lt;br /&gt;- Nu... gata. Nu trebuia...&lt;br /&gt;- Daca tot iti scapa... spune-mi.&lt;br /&gt;- Sti doar ca imi mai scapa ganduri...&lt;br /&gt;- Da, pentru a-mi da mie subiect de gandire... pentru eternitate.&lt;br /&gt;- Vrei sa iti zic adevarul?&lt;br /&gt;- Sunt bine... pe scaun.&lt;br /&gt;- Il vei interpreta?&lt;br /&gt;- Promit ca nu.&lt;br /&gt;- Mi-a fost dor de...&lt;br /&gt;- ... dor de?&lt;br /&gt;- Discutiile noastre.&lt;br /&gt;- Daca tot suntem sinceri...&lt;br /&gt;- Suntem...&lt;br /&gt;- Nu prea ma intelegem nici eu pe mine.&lt;br /&gt;- Stiu ce ai simtit...&lt;br /&gt;- Anul acesta a fost primul an in care am putut simti ceva mai mult decat marea...&lt;br /&gt;- ...&lt;br /&gt;- A fost ciudat. Si am nevoie de cineva sa imi refaca gandurile. Singur nu sunt in stare sa reflectez.&lt;br /&gt;- Cum vrei sa fac eu ordine?&lt;br /&gt;- Iti explic si inteleg si eu.&lt;br /&gt;- Simplu.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Poti sa incepi.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- O sa incep cu... marea mea, daca imi permiti sa o numesc asa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Numai tie...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Plaja, noapte, singura, grasa, tigari si un zumzet: " Iarna tu esti marea mea" ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Simturi?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Simteam nisipul si... gandurile erau la tine. Zburau. Te cautam. Si imi aminteau...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Lasa-ma sa savurez.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Gata?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- In cazu in care nu e in totalitate adevarat ce imi spusasi, sa sti oricum ca e cea mai frumoasa transformare a adevarului pe care am auzit-o vreodata...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Dupa... m-am cam ametit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Te sarut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Ii vreau doar pe ai tai.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Cati vrei tu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Acum tu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- 2-5... plimbare pe plaja, fum, o singura directie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- 3 ore?&lt;br /&gt;- Apoi a urmat cel mai ciudat lucru de pana atunci... cuplu ce vedea marea ca pe un pat conjugal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Tremurand la un rasarit cu Nori si a doua zi... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Ca la G.A.?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Sti de cine mi-a adus aminte rasaritul esuat...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Nu stiu ce sa mai zic...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- ... nimic. Nu mai spune nimic...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- ... nimic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- As vrea sa ne mai vedem. 2 minute. Sa ramanem nemiscati 2 minute. Toti... ca si cum ar ingheta timpul. Timpul nostru.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- 10. Te roooooooooog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Bine, 10.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Maine?&lt;br /&gt;- Intotdeauna exista un "maine".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373924792872563010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SpQEIHjVcUI/AAAAAAAAALQ/u3rIM72ebsM/s400/DSC01228.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-6598882909495478663?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/6598882909495478663/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/fericirea-dureaza-doar-cateva-secunde.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6598882909495478663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6598882909495478663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/fericirea-dureaza-doar-cateva-secunde.html' title='Blue'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SpQDWg9NAJI/AAAAAAAAALA/mcB2oKpJb0A/s72-c/stele.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3285721785153906472</id><published>2009-08-24T06:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T05:31:23.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>Iubirea e ca mersul pe bicicleta... nu se uita niciodata.&lt;br /&gt;Poti sa o ascuzi, dar mereu e in inima ta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doar viata poate privi in ochii tai si o poate vedea... iubirea din inima ta.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SpKcvZwVLAI/AAAAAAAAAKg/qn1eAptMyEI/s1600-h/6118_main.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3285721785153906472?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3285721785153906472/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3285721785153906472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3285721785153906472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-6224139243872255096</id><published>2009-08-23T04:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T06:42:28.757-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Pierzi</title><content type='html'>Deschizi ochii...rimelul s-a scurs, iar fondul de ten numai sti daca mai e pe fata ta...numai sti daca poti sau nu o masca. Te uiti la telefon si nimeni nu s-a mai gandit la tine. A fost o noapte lunga. Ai sarbatorit viitorul unui prieten, l-ai sarbatorit... Dar acum numai sti decat ca a plecat. Trebuia sa vina si clipa asta. Credeai ca te-ai pregatit destul, dar acum...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inchizi iar ochii si incerci sa visezi, dar nu poti... in fata ta se deruleaza un film de amintiri. Fiecare intalnire, fiecare zambet, fiecare privire. Tot ce iti doresti e sa fie iar alaturi de tine... macar o secunda sa iti mai zambeasca, sa iti mai fie alaturi. Dar nu se mai poate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amintirile se intrelup atunci cand iti amintesti ca desi nu o sa mai fie permanent alaturi de tine, o sa il mai vezi. Si atunci te apuca frica... Sa fie oare teama ca se schimba sau crezi ca l-ai pierdut? Il cunosti si sti ca nu te v-a uita, dar... daca nimic nu o sa mai fie la fel? Sau daca v-a deveni doar o persoana din trecut... si refuzi sa crezi.Refuzi sa crezi ca pleaca. Refuzi sa vezi distanta dintre voi doi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fost cel care te asculta mereu... cel care te astepta, visa si spera alaturi de tine. Te ajuta la greu si crezi ca stie totul despre tine, caci tu ai putut sa iti deschizi sufletul in fata lui. Acum realizezi ca fara incredere nu exista iubire. Iar iubirea nu e doar un vas, pe care urca doar o singura persoana. Iubirea se leaga de incredere. Increderea pe care le-o oferi prietenilor, doar lor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai pierdut de multe ori increderea, deci si iubire, dar el a fost alaturi de tine si te-a ajutat. Acum iti e frica ca nimeni nu te mai poate ajuta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu ti-a fost iubit, ci prieten. Nu ti-a jurat "la bine si la rau", dar a fost alaturi de tine mereu. Nu te-a sarutat, dar ti-a zambit cand tu plangeai. Nu te-a mangaiat, dar privirea lui iti asculta fiecare cuvant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Privesti in gol, camera pare goala... si acum sti ca el ti-ar zambi si te-ar face sa razi, sa te simti iubita, sa ai incredere... sa fi tu. Tu fara machiaj, fara imbunatatiri...doar TU. Tu si persoana ta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai mai trecut prin asta... in fiecare an pierzi persoane dragi. Le pierzi pentru viitorul lor... succesul lor, iar tu ramai in spate, in umbra. Dar nu iti pasa, caci sti ca locurile, culorile, lumina, noaptea iti vor aminti. Si atunci te intrebi: - Oare eu voi lasa in urma mea aceleasi sentimente si intrebari? Nu sti... Nu sti nici ce sa speri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amintiri incep iar sa apara, dar sunt doar cele frumoase, care il definesc... Acum nu iti mai poti aminti zilele in care nu te-a sunat, nu ti-a raspuns sau clipele cand nu era alaturi de tine, desi aveai nevoie de el... iti amintesti doar privirea prin care iti spunea: " Toate trec. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vrei sa te pierzi in visare, dar nu poti pentru ca e un gol in sufletul tau. Sti ca peste cateva zile nu il vei simti la fel de intens, dar il vei gasi mereu acolo... in sufletul tau. Crezi ca l-ai pierdut? Este mereu in tine, in sufletul tau, in amintirile tale. Ele nu te lasa sa-l uiti, sa-l pierzi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viata te face sa pierzi... dar increderea si iubirea nu o poti darui decat prietenilor. La RevedeRe, C.A.!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-6224139243872255096?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/6224139243872255096/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/pierzi.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6224139243872255096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6224139243872255096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/pierzi.html' title='Pierzi'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-478103208683676172</id><published>2009-08-22T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T14:18:08.657-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Epilog al gandurilor</title><content type='html'>Incepi sa iubesti doar atunci cand visezi. Fara vise nu exista iubire. Iubirea se naste visand. Visul devine iubire. Visele sunt iubire. Iubirea e visul.&lt;br /&gt;Visul devine realitate...&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372900370103392738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SpBga3WT2eI/AAAAAAAAAKY/D78sX-L_Qik/s320/joculvostruINT2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-478103208683676172?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/478103208683676172/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/epilog-al-gandurilor.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/478103208683676172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/478103208683676172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/epilog-al-gandurilor.html' title='Epilog al gandurilor'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SpBga3WT2eI/AAAAAAAAAKY/D78sX-L_Qik/s72-c/joculvostruINT2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-5060192885552463917</id><published>2009-08-12T00:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T01:10:29.162-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Cutia cu dragoste</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Deschid ochii, genele se ridica usor si privesc tavanul alb, caci lumina a patruns in camera mea. Arunc o privire catre ceas si aflu ca tocmai a trecut pranzul. Langa mine... cearceafuri sifonate. Fara sa mai gandesc ma indrept catre o gura de cafea. Caut ceasca ce mi-a fost alaturi mereu, dar nu o gasesc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Savurez gustul diminetii si arunc o privire la minunatul oras ce se inalta dupa fereastra mea. Privesc in gol... sunt singura, iar tot ce ma acopera e parfumul lui, pe care inca il simt. Sunt doar o silueta in geamul magazinului, neimbracata sau aranjata... sunt eu. Am ochii putin umflati, buzele rosii, parul ciufulit si mintea departe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simt o privire ce umbla prin spatele meu... nu imi deranjez privirea. Stiu ca sunt singura... totul e doar o parere. Imi ating inconstient buzele, iar mintea mea incepe sa viseze la noaptea trecuta. Ma gandesc la el si mii de amintiri ma coplesesc... nu imi dau seama de ce, dar toate se intampla intr-o singura zi... cea trecuta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unghiile mele se joaca pe geam si incep sa construiesc cea mai perfecta inima, dar ma opresc... in fata mea un cuplu se saruta. Sunt frumosi, fericiti si... mereu tineri. Le zambesc, dar ei nu ma pot vedea... nu pot gusta din sticla lor de fericire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visez... incep sa ma gandesc la trecut, la copilarie si la adolescenta mea. Acum le vad nepretuite, atunci nu aflasem inca definitia cuvantului. Apoi imi vin in minte planurile de viitor... sunt strict profesionale. Si incep sa rad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma trezesc iar din vis cand in fata mea se plimba de mana doua persoane trecute de prima tinerete. Ea zambeste, el ii raspunde. Ochii lor inca sclipesc si viata merge inainte. Sunt fericiti, pentru ca iubirea inca nu a trecut. Inca straluceste in viata lor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi dau repede seama ca lumea plina de iubire nu a disparut, doar eu nu am mai vizitat-o de ceva vreme. Eu sunt cea care a uitat-o intr-o cutie de carton, unde am ascuns toate jucariile adolescentei. Am pierdut iubirea... am lasat-o in urma. Nu stiu sa ma mai joc cu ea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mirosul lui e pe mine si in aerul pe care il respir. El e peste tot, il simt si acum, dar stiu ca nu il iubesc si nu il voi iubi... De ce? Pentru ca eu am alungat iubirea... a fugit de mine. Am uitat cum sa iubesc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma simt coplesita de iubirea din jurul meu. Sunt ca o pasare alungata din cuibul ei. Sunt prinsa printre rochii si pantofi, harti si dosare... ma pierd in ele. Dar... iubirea unde o mai pot gasi? Trag aer in piep...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soneria anunta ca cineva ma cauta. Nu vreau sa ma dezlipesc din dorul meu de iubire si nu vreau sa-mi intorc privirea din fata geamului.Cheia se rasuceste usor, usa se deschide, pasi mici si apasati se indreapta catre mine. Ma intorc, parca abia trezita si in fata mea se coloreaza un buchet imens de trandafiri. Sunt superbi, rosii, doar unul este mai special... cel alb. Incerc sa-l sarut, dar chipul lui e acoperit de trandafiri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il iau de mana si reusesc sa-i intorc privirea catre oras... ma cuprinde in brate si ma saruta... stiu ca i-am lipsit. Orasul ne priveste nemiscat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-5060192885552463917?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/5060192885552463917/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/cutia-cu-dragoste.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5060192885552463917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5060192885552463917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/cutia-cu-dragoste.html' title='Cutia cu dragoste'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-6074063079438557885</id><published>2009-08-08T00:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T01:03:38.631-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Vise de amiaza</title><content type='html'>Era o fata frumoasa care ma privea. Il stiam de cateva luni, radeam mult impreuna, dar acum e vorba de un alt sentiment. Mai profund.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masina se opreste, iar noi pasim impreuna catre lac. Suntem unul langa altul. Nu ne privim si nu ne vorbim. Rochia mea straluceste in lumina soarelui de vara, iar sandalele se pierd prin iarba verde. Ma simt minunat, doar inima incepe sa bata mai tare. Stiu ca nu e vorba de frica. Ma intorc spre el. Emotiile ma cuprind, iar el... ma saruta. A fost ca primul sarut, emotii fara regret, pasiune fara placere, iubire fara dezamagire. M-am desprins din stramtoarea buzelor si l-am privit in ochii albastri. Am vazut ca straluceau de fericire... a inceput sa zambeasca.S-a apropiat, dar i-am refuzat sarutul... nu stiu de ce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desfac fermoarul rochiei si pica de pe mine, sandalele zboara, iar eu alerg spre apa. Cobor cu atentie scarile si ma cuprinde raceala apei. El nu a vrut sa vina, asta m-a facut fericita... avem timp sa meditez. Am inotat printre colace de copii uitati in apa, printre oameni ce invatau sa nu se scufunde, printre inotatori de performanta..., dar ma simteam singura. Doar eu si apa, inotam mecanic, caci gandurile mele se indreptau catre el.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa un timp il vad inca sus, in costumul lui sobru, care ascundea un slip de copil ratacit prin viata. Vorbeste cu un domn la fel de sobru si imi face cu mana. Il salut chemandu-l... imi raspunde si cu coada ochiului observ cum renunta la costum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admir soarele oglindindu-se in apa si simt doua buze pe obrazul meu. Ne imbratisam si incepem sa ne sarutam usor. Ne pierdem..., dar visul se rupe. Zarim langa noi o panza de paianjen, prada si "criminalul". Nu am mai putut face nimic... o mancase deja.&lt;br /&gt;Incepem iar sa ne sarutam, dar eu eram absenta... gandurile plecasera departe si eu cu ele. Cand ma trezesc imi dau seama ca suntem in mijlocul unei discutii. Incercand sa aflu despre ce e vorba realizez ca eu o incepusem... discutam despre viitorul nostru.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma priveste in ochi... nu puteam clipi, simteam ca ceva ne leaga... ne apropiem si ne pierdem iar intr-un sarut. Sunt in bratele lui si parca timpul s-a oprit in loc. Totul e perfect...&lt;br /&gt;Iesim din apa, soarele ne incalzeste trupurile, iar mainile noastre se unesc... nu ne spunem nimic. Simt ca plutesc de fericire, simt ca el... e el. E acel ceva ce imi lipsea si de care imi era asa de dor. Simt ca el ma v-a readuce la viata si... incep sa plutesc. Ma bucur de viata, de el, de soare si de stralucirea apei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un zambet se transcrie pe fata mea... caut o guma sa-l sterg, dar nu pot. Sau nu vreau? Si atunci realizez ca e prea frumos sa fie adevarat. Nu sunt eu. Eu nu sunt asa... Eu sunt o fata pesimista, care lucreaza intotdeauna pentru a avea succes si care crede ca pentru ea norocul nu s-a inventat... nu, nu sunt eu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intorc privirea catre el si observ ca incerca sa-mi citeasca gandurile. A reusit oare? Ramanem asa cateva minute, pana cand ne da seama ca vantul adie mai tare, iar soarele incearca sa se piarda si el... dar parca noi il retinem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trebuie sa plecam, dar mai amanam... nu vrem sa pierdem senzatia de fericire... fericirea noastrea. Inchid ochii... si stiu ca el este cel pe care il voi iubi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-6074063079438557885?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/6074063079438557885/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/vise-de-amiaza.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6074063079438557885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6074063079438557885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/vise-de-amiaza.html' title='Vise de amiaza'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-5517763044096387930</id><published>2009-08-06T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T10:12:18.550-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Zambet de Vara</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SnsOig5Be1I/AAAAAAAAAJg/r_5GS8GK__I/s1600-h/in_love_by_angrymouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366899367049526098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SnsOig5Be1I/AAAAAAAAAJg/r_5GS8GK__I/s320/in_love_by_angrymouse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Nisipul ud il simt sub mine. E o senzatie placuta si rece. Vantul ne acopera trupurile. Soarele doarme, dar luna e atenta la toate detaliile.&lt;br /&gt;Mana lui se pierde in parul meu,iar ochii nostri viseaza la stele. Usor, privirea se indreapta catre luceafar. E mare si frumos, stralucitor si artagos. Ne place si il admiram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fara vorbe sau cuvinte, doar atingeri si sentimente...eram noi, ...noi fara betoane sau dezamagiri, ...noi fara ganduri sau parfumuri straine...doar noi, noi doi.&lt;br /&gt;Marea ne asculta tacerea si valurile ei incep sa ne vorbeasca. Stim ca doar noi doi o putem intelege. E calma, dar irascibila... euforica, dar suparata... indragostita, dar dezamagita si ne intoarcem iar la vise...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zambim... e vara, e cald, totul e perfect. Dar am uitat complet de viata...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-5517763044096387930?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/5517763044096387930/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/zambet-de-vara.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5517763044096387930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5517763044096387930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/zambet-de-vara.html' title='Zambet de Vara'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SnsOig5Be1I/AAAAAAAAAJg/r_5GS8GK__I/s72-c/in_love_by_angrymouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-105107614786462534</id><published>2009-08-06T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T00:53:03.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ochelari ai dorintei</title><content type='html'>Ridic privirea din caietul de notite, in fata mea un zambet se etaleaza... vreau sa ii multumesc pentru starea de fericire, dar nu pot...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O voce pierduta in alta camera anunta pauza... dezordinea produsa ma face sa-l pierd... il caut, dar nu e nicaieri. Terasa e goala, raul curge incet, dar linistea padurii e un miracol. Simt ca ma refac. Oboseala dispare, teama examenului... nu le mai simt. Unde s-au dus? Ma pierd... nu imi dau seama ca am uitat de cerul limpede si realizez ca nu sunt singura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era acolo, priveam impreuna apusul... unicitatea din fiecare zi.Buzele s-au desprins si au incercat, dar ochii priveau cum se apropia. Am simtit o atingere pe solduri, intreg corpul stia ce urmeaza, dar nu vroia sa recunoasca... buze fericite, inima pierduta... viata schimbata.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-105107614786462534?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/105107614786462534/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/ochelari-ai-dorintei.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/105107614786462534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/105107614786462534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/ochelari-ai-dorintei.html' title='Ochelari ai dorintei'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-2194870045738218388</id><published>2009-08-04T12:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T12:44:50.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inima in nisip</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Dor imens, cel pe care nu il simti decat daca dragostea e profunda si euforica. Nu ii poti uita chipul din prima intalnire. Ochii zburdau in mireasma lor si sclipeau o aura a dorintei de a ne reintalni. Nu au fost multe cuvinte, dar tacerea a devenit naratorul unei povesti vrajite de dragoste, intelegere si visare. Cerul ne-a veghet simturile, soarele ne-a luminat sufl&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SniOKtpiTJI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/xFjGJAggwws/s1600-h/23.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;etele, iar stelele pe noi doi... &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SniPpEqBDCI/AAAAAAAAAJY/KdoPxZql9Ks/s1600-h/23.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366196891799325730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SniPpEqBDCI/AAAAAAAAAJY/KdoPxZql9Ks/s200/23.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O intrebare retorica ma chinuie. Stiu ca raspunsul imi zguduie inima. Doar sufletul meu vrea sa afle adevarul, doar zambetul vrea sa afle gluma, doar ochii vor sa redescopere peisajul, doar nasul vrea sa-ti simta parfumul. Trupul meu... te simte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incet, incet incep sa aud motoare de masini. Cel mai nervos incerca sa evadeze din rutina si se ambaleaza. Copacii incearca zadarnic sa depaseasca criza, dar fumul pluteste pana ce se uneste intr-un nor. Sunt cuprinsa de ageritatea iubirii... pentru un moment nu ma mai gandesc la tine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-2194870045738218388?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/2194870045738218388/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/inima-in-nisip.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2194870045738218388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2194870045738218388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/inima-in-nisip.html' title='Inima in nisip'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SniPpEqBDCI/AAAAAAAAAJY/KdoPxZql9Ks/s72-c/23.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-6226705608991695655</id><published>2009-08-04T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T11:57:29.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Picaturi de vise</title><content type='html'>Ma uit in jur si toata lumea viseaza... Noaptea orasul adoarme repede, patrundem in mijlocul viselor. Ziua ne trezim, iar in fata ochiilor ni se prezinta visele.Se plimba ca pe un podium in cele mai frumoase tinute, imbracate de seara cu accesorii pline de diamante si cu pantofi colorati si scumpi. Sunt visele noastre. Sunt frumoase, realizabile sau nu, pline de stralucire sau nu, pline de iubire si fara minciuna. Sunt ale noastre, doar ale noastre si suntem siguri ca nu ni le poate fura nimeni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iubesc visele.De ce?Pentru ca sunt mereu cu tine si niciodata nu te lasa in pace, chiar daca uneori iti doresti asta... sau nu?Pentru ca sunt mereu au grija de tine si nu te lasa sa gresesti. Fara vise am fi doar niste oameni de plus, fara un drum... fara atingerea ce ne invata sa iubim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fara vise nu am fi noi... Visul te face unica. Visezi... iti doresti. Visul inseamna ca vrei sa zbori deasupra de nori. Visand putem schimba. Visul e viata noastra. Fara vise nu am exista... Visele nu pot muri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Lumea-i visul sufletului nostru&lt;/em&gt;" &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mihai Eminescu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-6226705608991695655?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/6226705608991695655/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/picaturi-de-vise.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6226705608991695655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6226705608991695655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/picaturi-de-vise.html' title='Picaturi de vise'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-9058390853701767945</id><published>2009-08-01T16:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T17:21:38.156-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Umbra noptii</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SnTLYFTAEeI/AAAAAAAAAIw/L27jpW9GduA/s1600-h/povestelevantINT3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365136670704275938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SnTLYFTAEeI/AAAAAAAAAIw/L27jpW9GduA/s320/povestelevantINT3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Parfumul tau ma atrage, ma aprinde, ma cheama iar si iar la tine. Nu stiu ce sa mai cred.. ca tu esti pentru mine? Sau lumea nu e pentru noi? Te-as uita, te-as amagi, te-as iubi, te-as sufoca, te-as scrie, te-as amana...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lumea e o palma aruncata in tine pentru a te umili si a spera. Lumea e vraja ce te cuprinde, cand te pierzi departe...Lumea e viata si respectul de a fi aici, acum... Lumea e intre noi si tu o stii prea bine. Lumea e visul nostru. Lumea e mirosul de mare. Lumea se pierde cand sunt cu tine... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recitesc... o ploaie de tine, fara tine... Esti aici. Langa mine?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-9058390853701767945?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/9058390853701767945/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/umbra-noptii.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9058390853701767945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9058390853701767945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/umbra-noptii.html' title='Umbra noptii'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SnTLYFTAEeI/AAAAAAAAAIw/L27jpW9GduA/s72-c/povestelevantINT3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-2236702222921010463</id><published>2009-08-01T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T17:21:06.130-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><title type='text'>Zarea albastra</title><content type='html'>Sunetul trenului il aud ca prin vis, intr-un alt compartiment un copil urla de fericire, simt incercarea de a deschide genele. Sunt grele, dar intr-un final reusesc. Se urca sus si ochii incep a inregistra filmul ce ruleaza in inima mea, colturile buzelor incep sa se ridice, imi doresc sa simt mirosul cunoscut, de care imi e asa de dor... zarea e albastra. Cerul se uneste cu marea si devin doar una. Totul e mirific. Sunt fericita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma apasa sentimentul ciudat de fericire. Nu stiu de unde a aparut, dar il simt... e acolo, ascuns in mine. Nimeni nu il poate vedea, simti sau mirosi. E doar al meu si il pastrez. Sunt egoista, dar nu ma pot abtine. Nu vreau sa il imprumut. E ceva intim, unic si nu vreau sa-l pierd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visul imi este intrerupt de nemiscarea trenului.Arunc o privire... e doar statia in care imi voi vedea iar fericirea.Cobor si picioarele ma trag spre ea, marea. Ajung pe plaja si realizez ca soarele a intrat la culcare si luna ne vegheaza acum. E liniste... se aud doar valurile ce se prabusesc la mal... incearca sa ma prinda, dar sunt prea ingropata in nisip. Ma intind pe spate, privesc cerul instelat, trag aer in piep, mainile mi-au intrat deja in nisip, il simt... e fin si pierdut.Ca si mine... Mirosul ma imbata, ma ameteste... plutesc. Visez sau e adevarat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se aude ceva... un cantec... ma uit la stele. Nu, nu ele canta. Sunetul imi este cunoscut... si imi amintesc. Iese din materialul negru din dreapta mea. Ma ridic, raspund si ma trezesc la realitate. Am petrecut 3 ore visand... la mare.E langa mine... O privesc imi zambeste, o sarut si vreau sa o imbratisez. Descopar caldura apei noaptea. E fantastica, e stralucitoare si sentimentul ciudat imi revine. Imi amintesc de aparatul cantator si incerc sa o inregistrez, sa o pot lua cu mine mereu, oriunde si oricand. Incerc, dar nu rezolv nimic... Nu ma lasa sa o iau cu mine. Nu vrea. Ea ramane aici. Pentru totdeauna. O voi gasi aici... mereu aici.Neschimbata...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-2236702222921010463?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/2236702222921010463/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/zarea-albastra.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2236702222921010463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2236702222921010463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/08/zarea-albastra.html' title='Zarea albastra'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-7743011208837711091</id><published>2009-07-18T17:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:19:55.414-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Slabiciunea privirii</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SmJsnWPbR9I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Nefh-2k93bE/s1600-h/sea-anemone-info0.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359965929765291986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SmJsnWPbR9I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Nefh-2k93bE/s320/sea-anemone-info0.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Mai am 3 zile.&lt;br /&gt;- Eu una.&lt;br /&gt;- Departe?&lt;br /&gt;- Bulgaria.&lt;br /&gt;- E prima data in viata mea cand nu ma trage inima...&lt;br /&gt;- Cum sa nu vrei la mare?&lt;br /&gt;- Sper sa-mi treaca cand ajung.&lt;br /&gt;- Garantat...&lt;br /&gt;- Totul era lafel, dar lipsea ceva...&lt;br /&gt;- Asta crezi tu?&lt;br /&gt;- Nici pe plaja nu am stat mult. Venea zmeul si trebuia sa va luptati...&lt;br /&gt;- Eu ma simt bine.&lt;br /&gt;- A fost ciudat.&lt;br /&gt;- Puteai sa ma auzi si pe mine, doar sa fi ascultat mai atent...&lt;br /&gt;- Nu ma puteam concentra.&lt;br /&gt;- Se pare ca eu pot sa visez mai mult ca tine... te am mereu langa mine.&lt;br /&gt;- Stiu ca iar o sa-mi lipsesti...&lt;br /&gt;- Cand o sa te ude un val...&lt;br /&gt;- ...&lt;br /&gt;- O sa ma ude si pe mine. O sa fim impreuna. Doar sa crezi.&lt;br /&gt;- Tu trebuie sa treci peste. Esti mai puternic.&lt;br /&gt;- Cine mai tremura langa mine la rasarit? Cine mai adoarme cu mine la GA? Cui ii mai simt respiratia langa mine in pat?&lt;br /&gt;- Gasesti tu pe cineva...&lt;br /&gt;- Nu vreau si nici nu imi doresc. Deci nu.&lt;br /&gt;- Nici macar melodia nu o mai pot asculta...&lt;br /&gt;- Nici eu nu am ascultat-o de atunci.&lt;br /&gt;- Cand m-am uitat la ipod avea in el nisip...&lt;br /&gt;- Inca mai am nisip in geamantan.&lt;br /&gt;- Mai dormi?&lt;br /&gt;- Poate daca te visez pe tine...&lt;br /&gt;- Pe mine?Enervandu-te?&lt;br /&gt;- Pur si simplu stand plaja langa mine..&lt;br /&gt;- Fericire e cand iti amintesti... cat de fericit esti cand iubesti.&lt;br /&gt;- Fericire e cand dormi tu la ea, chiar pe canapea.&lt;br /&gt;- O sa ne descurcam. Suntem majori...&lt;br /&gt;- Normal...&lt;br /&gt;- Te deranjeaza?&lt;br /&gt;- Nu, imi place chiar... sunt amintiri.&lt;br /&gt;- Amintiri vazute din ochii mei...&lt;br /&gt;- Si ai mei.&lt;br /&gt;- Si...(eu )sunt o amintire?&lt;br /&gt;- O amintire frumoasa...care sper sa se repede si sa nu ramana o amintire.&lt;br /&gt;- Macar stiu ca nu ma vei uita.&lt;br /&gt;- Mai mult de atat... Vei vedea. Sa mergem la vise...&lt;br /&gt;- Ingerii te saruta...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-7743011208837711091?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/7743011208837711091/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/slabiciunea-privirii.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7743011208837711091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7743011208837711091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/slabiciunea-privirii.html' title='Slabiciunea privirii'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SmJsnWPbR9I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Nefh-2k93bE/s72-c/sea-anemone-info0.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1527767471681024851</id><published>2009-07-18T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:26:36.495-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Gene prinse</title><content type='html'>E noapte, e trecut de ora 2 si afara se aude o muzica de petrecere care imi infioara urechiile.Nu imi place, as opri-o daca as putea. Bate vantul din ce in ce mai tare, in departare vad niste fulgere ce nu sunt prea fericite. Acum stiu ca cineva ma v-a ajuta sa opreasca muzica...e ploaia, stropi de fericire, de somn, de dorinta. Un fior intra pe geam si imi racoreste corpul. Imi place. Simt ca nopatea e prietena mea si ma ajuta, desi tunetele nu ma prea plac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SmJid0s6vlI/AAAAAAAAAIA/MwVgQS7M_hI/s1600-h/6118_main.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Au trecut deja 10 minute decand ploua, muzica s-a inchis, camera s-a mai racorit, musc dintr-un mar si ascult picaturile de apa. Inca nu s-au terminat fulgerele. Sunt mai rare si intrelup incet frumusetea sunetului ploii. Privesc in gol si mormane de sentimente ma incearca. Se amesteca si nu le mai recunosc. Nu le pot descrie. Sunt multe, puternice si ciudate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SmJsA-W4lmI/AAAAAAAAAII/xgW7rOifaCo/s1600-h/IMG_0422.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casc si imi dau seama ca ar trebui sa adorm, dar nu pot.De ce? Sentimntele... se joaca cu mine si cu viata mea. Numai ele stiu unde vor sa ajunga si de ce ma duc acolo. Numai ele stiu ce vor sa faca cu viata mea firava. Ele ma ghideaza. Inima imi ghideaza viata, zilele, respiratia... toate depind de sentimente. Copilaria mi-a fost coplesita de renumitul joc "Ma iubeste/Nu ma iubeste",iar acum descopar iubirea adolescentina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totul in jurul meu miroase a sentimente. Orice lucru pe care il vezi te transforma in sentimentalist si orice are viata il iubesti. Orice are sentimente. Orice devine sentimentalist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1527767471681024851?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1527767471681024851/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-noapte-e-trecut-de-ora-2-si-afara-se.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1527767471681024851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1527767471681024851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-noapte-e-trecut-de-ora-2-si-afara-se.html' title='Gene prinse'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-6061258075718416428</id><published>2009-07-18T05:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T03:15:16.848-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><title type='text'>Picaturi de vise</title><content type='html'>Ma uit in jur si toata lumea viseaza... Noaptea orasul adoarme repede, patrundem in mijlocul viselor. Ziua ne trezim, iar in fata ochiilor ni se prezinta visele.Se plimba ca pe un podium in cele mai frumoase tinute, imbracate de seara cu accesorii pline de diamante si cu pantofi colorati si scumpi. Sunt visele noastre. Sunt frumoase, realizabile sau nu, pline de stralucire sau nu, pline de iubire si fara minciuna. Sunt ale noastre, doar ale noastre si suntem siguri ca nu ni le poate fura nimeni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Iubesc visele.De ce?Pentru ca sunt mereu cu tine si niciodata nu te lasa in pace chiar daca uneori iti doresti asta... sau nu?Pentru ca sunt mereu langa tine si au grija de tine. Fara vise am fi doar niste oameni de plus care nu stiu ce vor. Fara vise nu am fi noi... Visul te face unica. Visezi... iti doresti. Visul inseamna ca vrei sa zbori deasupra de nori. Visand putem schimba. Visul e viata noastra. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Fara vise nu am exista... Visele nu pot muri.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Lumea-i visul sufletului nostru&lt;/em&gt;" &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mihai Eminescu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-6061258075718416428?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/6061258075718416428/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/picaturi-de-vise.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6061258075718416428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/6061258075718416428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/picaturi-de-vise.html' title='Picaturi de vise'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-498463763747142688</id><published>2009-07-17T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:25:14.259-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Zori de Zi</title><content type='html'>- In tine vreau sa pot sa ma ascunddddddd.&lt;br /&gt;- ...&lt;br /&gt;- Cu tine vreau sa iert cu tine vreu sa pierd, cu tine vreau sa mor, cu tine vreau tot.&lt;br /&gt;- Pe limba ta o soapta vreau sa ajung....&lt;br /&gt;- Tac.&lt;br /&gt;- M-a parasit fluturasul.&lt;br /&gt;- Era frumos?&lt;br /&gt;- Parca sunt beata...&lt;br /&gt;- De la ce?&lt;br /&gt;- Fluturas?Imi zise ca daca sunt fata cuminte poate ma viziteaza si pe la mare...&lt;br /&gt;- Si pe mine?&lt;br /&gt;- Plangi la filme?&lt;br /&gt;- Pot citi carti siropoase.&lt;br /&gt;- Imi e cald? &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Esti langa mine...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Baie in mare?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Acum?&lt;br /&gt;- Maine?&lt;br /&gt;- Rasarit?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Intotdeauna...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Noi doi si luna...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- ... si marea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Visez... la mare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Credeam ca la mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Iarna tu esti marea mea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Eu nu te spal.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SmGyg7mBEFI/AAAAAAAAAHw/I5zA54czMlc/s1600-h/walkingonsnow8web.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Si nu ma sarezi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Unde e?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Cauta-l...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Nu imi place...imi aminteste de altceva.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Unidos para la musica...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Cum mai e nisipul?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Mult, mare si mereu primitor?&lt;br /&gt;- Ars de soare?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Mereu maturat...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Era calda?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Te-a salutat...te asteapta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Am sa o sarut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- E sarata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Imi place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Atunci e bine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- ...tu esti dulce.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Si baietii plang cateodata?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Cand nu-i vede nimeni...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Ai fost nefericit?&lt;br /&gt;- Am plans... linistit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Zambeste-mi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Primesc ceva?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Idiot, stii ca primeai oricum...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Acum?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- ... maine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my stupid games of love...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-498463763747142688?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/498463763747142688/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/zori-de-zi.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/498463763747142688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/498463763747142688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/zori-de-zi.html' title='Zori de Zi'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-7031175176471023638</id><published>2009-07-17T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:25:24.112-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Picatura puritatii</title><content type='html'>La inceput iti e rece, apoi o caldura te cuprinde. Parul de pe maini se ridica. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SmDygvlp09I/AAAAAAAAAHg/5f-GPZvFHZI/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359550200915022802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SmDygvlp09I/AAAAAAAAAHg/5f-GPZvFHZI/s320/5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Respiri incet, dar fiecare parfum si miros le distingi in aerul ce te inconjoara. Apoi ceva mic si rece te alina exact acolo unde te astepti mai putin. Iti place senzatia, o urmaresti mereu. Dar se opreste. E tot rece. Astepti, oboseala iti sopteste cuvinte magice la ureche, ochii cedeaza usor, usor.Genele atent sterse de rimel se inchid, cad greoaie.Buzele s-au strans de ceva vreme, doar se desprind, o gura de aer tragi si se zaresc dintii albi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are deja 37,9 grade si inca creste.Ai face orice sa-l opresti, dar nu poti... Vrea sa arate adevarul. Vrea sa-ti confirme. Dupa 3 minute de asteptari il iei. Iti e cald. Ochii deabia se desprind. Nasul miroase. Gandul citeste 39,9 grade...Termometrul nu minte niciodata...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...somnul e greu, dar linistitor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-7031175176471023638?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/7031175176471023638/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/picatura-puritatii.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7031175176471023638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7031175176471023638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/picatura-puritatii.html' title='Picatura puritatii'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SmDygvlp09I/AAAAAAAAAHg/5f-GPZvFHZI/s72-c/5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-8278988788204131869</id><published>2009-07-09T03:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:28:47.558-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Fericire si iubire</title><content type='html'>E un pic ciudat cum o simpla veste,o schimbare de planuri te poate face fericita.Asta am simtit eu acum cateva zile.Pt cineva ar putea fi banal sau ceva simplu,linistitor,dar mie mi-a provocat o explozie.Dar una buna.Si nu ma refer la Big O.O explozie de fericire.Ce mi s-a intamplat?&lt;br /&gt;Am aflat ca imi voi petrece un weekend la mare impreuna cu cea mai buna prietena a mea,D.Nu e foarte mult,e chiar putin...dar imi e asa dor de mare,inca aflarea vestii de minivacanta mi-a provocat fericire.Din prima clipa am fost optimista si mi-am facut nenumarate planuri.Stiu ca atunci cand voi ajunge acolo ma voi arunca in mare si ma v-a adopta.Vreau sa cred ca in prima noapte o sa simt raceala nisipului ars de soare,o sa aud muzica marii,o sa ma vegheze luna si o sa gust din binecuvantarea vinului...O sa simt ca sunt la mare,pierduta...O sa simt fericirea...fericirea mea.Poate ca sunt prea egoista sau poate ca cer prea mult,dar pentru mine asta e fericire...sa simt marea aproape.Sa fiu linistita,sa uit de telefoane si internet,de bac si de iubiri,sa uit de toti si toate si sa ma pierd in apus...Sa fiu eu,cum doar 2 persoane ma stiu...Sa ma regasesc si sa ma odhinesc purtata de vant.Asta e fericirea mea...Nu vreau cluburi,nu vreau muzica,nu vreau nimic...doar pe ea,marea.Cea care ma leaga de adevarata eu,cea care ma leaga de tot,dar tine problemele departe.Acolo sunt eu...Acolo e fericirea mea.Acolo nu am nevoie de nimeni...V-a fi langa mine doar D si nu am nevoie de mai mult.D si Grasa...prietenele mele.Si marea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Mi-e dor de mare!Imi place la mare ca esti curat tot timpul.Marea te spala.&lt;br /&gt;-Si esti sarat,nu?Te spala si te sareaza?&lt;br /&gt;-Tu ai fost vreodata la mare?&lt;br /&gt;-Nu,dar am visat ca am fost.intr-o zi mi-a intrat nisip in ochi si am plans toata ziua.&lt;br /&gt;-Si,ai intrat in apa si ti-a trecut.&lt;br /&gt;-Da,si am visat o casuta de paie pe plaja.In care o sa stau si iarna si vara.&lt;br /&gt;-Si mai e cineva in ea?&lt;br /&gt;-Suntem numai noi 2.Aaa,si marea.&lt;br /&gt;-Si nu intra apa in casuta cand e furtuna?&lt;br /&gt;-Cand e furtuna intram noi in apa si ne plimbam pe valuri...&lt;br /&gt;Vama Veche-Dragostea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356406364290236050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlXHNXgpPpI/AAAAAAAAAHY/nyl23u6iK1o/s400/marea-neagra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-8278988788204131869?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/8278988788204131869/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-un-pic-ciudat-cum-o-simpla-vesteo.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8278988788204131869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8278988788204131869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-un-pic-ciudat-cum-o-simpla-vesteo.html' title='Fericire si iubire'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlXHNXgpPpI/AAAAAAAAAHY/nyl23u6iK1o/s72-c/marea-neagra.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-2434566539811205780</id><published>2009-07-09T02:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:22:25.780-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Eleganta iubirii</title><content type='html'>Fericire...fericirea femeii.Ce e aceasta?M-am intrebat mereu daca ceea ce produce fericirea femenii e legata de pantofi sau de el,baiatu perfect.Nu am descoperit.Inca nu stiu,dar cu siguranta "Confesions of a shopaholic"(filmul) m-a mai lamurit. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlW_u-GjGVI/AAAAAAAAAHI/hPgmc4YzW8g/s1600-h/13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356398145492425042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlW_u-GjGVI/AAAAAAAAAHI/hPgmc4YzW8g/s200/13.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlW_mf0KV1I/AAAAAAAAAG4/tzaeyvxoJPk/s1600-h/13.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perechea de pantofi rosii perfecti iti da sentimentul de satisfactie.Te face frumoasa si respectata.Te face sa plutesti,chiar daca picioarele tale sunt urcate pe tocuri de 10 cm si la sfarsiul noptii te dor.Dar nimic nu mai conteaza cand ii porti.Ai acea atitudine demna de a fi fericita si invidiata.Acea atitudine ce o regasim in fiecare dintre paginile de moda.Ne sunt descrise in zeci de cuvinte pantofii,dar si atitudinea pe care trebuie sa o adoptam atunci cand ii purtam.O femeie care poarta pantofii cu atitudine se remarca prin faptul ca e hotarata,fericita si da senzatia ca stie ce vrea.De aceea tot mai des vad femei gravide care renunta cu greu la pantofi,desi sarcina nu le prea da voie sa ii poarte.Pantofii sunt cei ce dau culoare unei tinute si tot ei te fac...fericita?&lt;br /&gt;Dar el?Cum stam la capitolul ei?Sa vedem...ei ne dau senzatii efemere de fericire.De cele mai multe ori iubirea tine maxim 3 &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlW_vvkBYII/AAAAAAAAAHQ/fEC8ulzqhJs/s1600-h/red_shoes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356398158769381506" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlW_vvkBYII/AAAAAAAAAHQ/fEC8ulzqhJs/s200/red_shoes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ani.Da,numai mult.3 ani,daca esti norocoasa si el inca nu a gasit o alta cu o atitudine mai corespunzatoare decat a ta.3 ani daca nu este genul care se enerveaza repede sau care intarzie mai multa ca tine.3 ani daca este iubirea adolescentina care trece peste tot si toate si care nu tine la greseli.3 ani daca lumea nu va vrea raul.De ce sa nu recunoastem ca de cele mai multe ori in anii petrecuti cu el sunt momente de fericire,dar sunt si multe nopti in care plangi si te gandesti de ce?De ce el se uita dupa altele?De ce el nu ii mai place?De ce el uneori te vede doar o gaura?De ce el vrea sa faci totul cum zice?De ce nu mai e ca la inceput?Si toate stim ca ei mint mult...poate mai mult ca noi.&lt;br /&gt;Nu vreau sa par feminista sau putin misandra.Nu sunt.Iubesc barbatii,iubesc felul lor de a fi,iubesc tehnicile lor de agatat si uneori iubesc minciunile lor.Dar trebuie sa recunoastem ca uneori exagereaza si sunt prea posisivi sau cred ca sunt mai inteligenti decat femeile.Nu e nici pe departe adevarat.Fiecare persoana se naste in viata cu o anumit destin si inteligenta,pe care si-o cultiva sau nu.Asta nu depinde de sex sau nationalitate.Femeile fac de multe ori munca barbatiilor desi uita de feminitate.Feminitatea pe care un barbat nu o poate avea nici daca incearca...chiar daca majoritatea ar spune ca nici nu si-o doresc.Ar fi putin prea egoisti sa zica asta.E imposibil sa nu iti doresti sa fi elegant,rafinat si sa stii ce iti doresti.Cam in asta consta feminitatea.&lt;br /&gt;Intorcandu-ne de la ce am plecat ce ai prefera intre o pereche de pantofi rosii cu tocul subtire de 10 cm si atitudinea definitorie,feminitate si eleganta de a fi femeie si un barbat care iti poate da o iubire efemere pierduta apoi intre tipete si scandaluri?&lt;br /&gt;Le poti avea pe amandoua,daca esti o femeie capabila si stii ca palma iubitului acceptata se v-a intoarce...&lt;br /&gt;Si inca ma mai intreb Iubitul sau Pantofii?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.:Sinceritatea ta...care te-a atras mai mult?Sau...ai terminat de citit?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-2434566539811205780?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/2434566539811205780/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/eleganta-iubirii.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2434566539811205780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2434566539811205780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/eleganta-iubirii.html' title='Eleganta iubirii'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlW_u-GjGVI/AAAAAAAAAHI/hPgmc4YzW8g/s72-c/13.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-2310860559900408778</id><published>2009-07-08T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:23:35.088-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Crud..</title><content type='html'>Azi am fost in 2 spitale...poti simti durerea si suferinta prin toate mijloacele.Cu ochii vezi suferinta oameniilor,cu ranile ei exterioare si interioare,cu nasul simti mirosul durerilor,un ton gros de diluant te acapareaza decand intri pe hol si in suflet simti strigatele...ce te fac sa gandesti.&lt;br /&gt;Un copil abia iesit din operatie,tremurand speriat pe targa,imi arunca o privire...pierduta.Incerc sa zambesc pt a-l inveseli,dar tristetea din ochii lui ma ingheata.Stiu ca isi v-a aminti peste ani de durerea pe care o simte azi.&lt;br /&gt;Langa mine o batranica ii cere iertare sotului ca l-a facut sa o astepte...se inteleg minunat si sunt aproape sigura ca au trecut de nunta de argint,dar nu conteaza.Pe relatia lor nu a pus amprenta timpul.Sunt fericiti impreuna.Ma intrebam neincetat daca si eu o sa ajung asa de respectoasa cu sotul meu.Dar nu cred...sunt aproape sigura.De ce?Pentru ca nu ne v-a lega o asemenea iubire sau nu voi trai pana la varsta aceea.Nu stiu.Nu cred.&lt;br /&gt;Abia acum am realizat ca nimic nu e mai bun decat sanatatea...si ca deobicei avem"grija" sa ne-o stricam.Niciodata nu suntem atenti ce mancam,cum mancam,ce bem si de ce bem...ne piedem in stres si uitam de noi....Pt noi,corupul nostru ajunge pe ultimele pozitii...ne ingropam in munca,stres si ne pierdem in ele.&lt;br /&gt;E o realitate cruda...Timpul te imbatraneste,dar sufletul iti poate ramane mereu tanar,daca ai reusit sa ai grija de tine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stiu ca acest post nu se potriveste temei blogului meu,dar merita scris...E o realitate cruda.Pur si simplu o realitate cruda.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-2310860559900408778?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/2310860559900408778/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/crud.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2310860559900408778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2310860559900408778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/crud.html' title='Crud..'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-5090811520207735504</id><published>2009-07-06T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:26:03.572-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Marea de cuvinte</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlJ32NqowMI/AAAAAAAAAGw/nF0e2y1iB68/s1600-h/119_2_39.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355474680162074818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlJ32NqowMI/AAAAAAAAAGw/nF0e2y1iB68/s320/119_2_39.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ai fost vreodata in situatia in care aveai ales dintre 3 rochii si nu stiai pe care?Iti placeau la fel de mult,te simteai bine cand le purtai,erau moi,delicate...dar fiecare are "personalitatea" ei.Cea mai veche o ai de aproape 3 ani,dar i-ai jurat viata impreuna...nu poti sa renunti la ea.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlJ1b-wkaKI/AAAAAAAAAGo/RX9EBrVUOb8/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cea mai scurta e colorata,plina de viata si te face fericita doar privind-o.Cea mai lunga iti acopera defectele,te face superba si rafinata,e speciala pentru tine...te defineste.E greu...e o decizie ciudata,dar importanta.E posibil sa-ti defineasca viata.Te uiti in jur,pantofii stralucesc in lumina becului si stii sigur ca vei arata superb in toate variantele.Dar trebuie sa alegi doar una...cea mai potrivita.Regina balului.&lt;br /&gt;Te uiti la fiecare in parte.Sunt superbe...fiecare ti se potriveste.Renunti,pleci sa fumezi o tigara inainte de marea decizie.Fiecare fum ti se opreste in gat.Simti usor o aroma de menta,dar nu ii dai atentie.Nimic numai conteaza...stii doar ca e ultima tigara.In seara asta trebuie sa arati impecabil.Sa fi superba.Nici tigara nu te linisteste.Nimeni nu se poate da cu parerea...Nu conteaza.Iti e greu,stii ca poti,dar nu reusesti sa te hotarasti...fiecare are personalitatea ei&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Asa se imparte viata mea...si nu ma refer la rochii.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-5090811520207735504?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/5090811520207735504/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/marea-de-cuvinte.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5090811520207735504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5090811520207735504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/marea-de-cuvinte.html' title='Marea de cuvinte'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlJ32NqowMI/AAAAAAAAAGw/nF0e2y1iB68/s72-c/119_2_39.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-4365490852205587172</id><published>2009-07-06T02:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:29:21.536-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Remember me?</title><content type='html'>-Unde?&lt;br /&gt;-Departe...&lt;br /&gt;-Sunt aici.&lt;br /&gt;...se aud pasii ce coboara grabiti.&lt;br /&gt;-Mi-am amintit...tu,eu,plaja...melodie.&lt;br /&gt;-Nu stiu.&lt;br /&gt;-Tu?&lt;br /&gt;-Niciodata,valurile trec si nu le mai simt...&lt;br /&gt;-...Undeva...mmmm,cam asa era...nu imi pot aminti versurile.&lt;br /&gt;-Vorbesti de noaptea de pe plaja?&lt;br /&gt;-Nu stiu.Poate.Imi amintesc doar nisipul uscat,mirosul curat de sarat,obrazul tau tepos &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlHGiVZq6VI/AAAAAAAAAGg/wyd0lnnGR-Q/s1600-h/vama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355279725082896722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlHGiVZq6VI/AAAAAAAAAGg/wyd0lnnGR-Q/s320/vama.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;si...melodia.&lt;br /&gt;-Simteai vreo caldura?&lt;br /&gt;-Atunci cand te priveam ma simteam vie.&lt;br /&gt;-Nu era cantecul ce ne leaga pe noi 2?"Soarele rasare...ne vede-mpreuna...si parca s-ar ascunde..."&lt;br /&gt;-Eu...fara retusuri.&lt;br /&gt;-Atat iti amintesti?Piesa noastra?&lt;br /&gt;-Da.Asta-i tot.M-am gandit sa te anunt ca mi-am amintit ceva...&lt;br /&gt;...ma intorc si fug.&lt;br /&gt;-Crezi ca e suficient?&lt;br /&gt;-Pentru tine?&lt;br /&gt;-Amintirea ta...&lt;br /&gt;-Cel mai fragil fir din lume.&lt;br /&gt;-N-o lasa sa-ti scape.&lt;br /&gt;-Ciudat,inca mai simt gustul...&lt;br /&gt;-Nu te mai aud,nu te mai vad,vreau doar...&lt;br /&gt;-Mi-a fost asa de dor.&lt;br /&gt;-Niciodata...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You will always be in my life even if I’m not in your life&lt;br /&gt;Cause you’re in my memory"&lt;br /&gt;Enrique Iglesias - Somebody`s Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-4365490852205587172?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/4365490852205587172/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/remember-me.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4365490852205587172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4365490852205587172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/remember-me.html' title='Remember me?'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlHGiVZq6VI/AAAAAAAAAGg/wyd0lnnGR-Q/s72-c/vama.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1568347346100345897</id><published>2009-07-06T01:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:30:05.906-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Uitarea...</title><content type='html'>In ochii medicului e scaparea...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii profesorului e reusita...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii prietenilor e distractia...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii fumatorului e dependenta...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii rudelor e incertitudinea...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii oamenilor e visarea...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii vanzatoarei e dorinta de mai mult...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii sefului e nevinovatia...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii blondei e entuziasmul...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii mamei e incantarea...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii cainelui e prietenia adevarata...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii miresei e fericirea...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii sportivului e succesul...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii ghicitoarei e nerabdarea....&lt;br /&gt;In ochii bucatarului e experienta...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii copilului e inocenta...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii colegilor e competitia...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii amantului e placerea...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii vecinei de la 4 e regretul copilariei...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii cosmeticienei e narcisismul...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii curvei e satisfactia...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii majorei e realizarea...&lt;br /&gt;In ochii tatalui e reusita...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In ochii ei e drumul spre mare....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In ochii lui e infinitul...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1568347346100345897?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1568347346100345897/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/uitarea.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1568347346100345897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1568347346100345897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/uitarea.html' title='Uitarea...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1629456136648604029</id><published>2009-07-06T01:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:30:17.266-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><title type='text'>Alfabetul culorilor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlG10CnDWGI/AAAAAAAAAGY/T-fexKoSVz8/s1600-h/423_culori.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355261337578723426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 274px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlG10CnDWGI/AAAAAAAAAGY/T-fexKoSVz8/s320/423_culori.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A- albastrul marii linistite;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;B- bronzul de munte;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;C- cireasa amara;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;D- dansul vietii;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E- eleganta gandirii;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;F- fardurile multicolore;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;G- galbenul geloziei;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I- iubirea adolescentina;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;L- lamaia coapta;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;M- movul inspiratiei;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;N- negrul amar;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O- oglinda frumusetii;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P- portocaliul copilariei;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;R- rosul buzelor;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;S- soarele ce ne incalzeste sufletele;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;T- turcoaise ambitios;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;U- usor ca un fulg;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;V- verdele campiei din copilarie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Azi stiu sa desenez.Nu-i asa?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1629456136648604029?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1629456136648604029/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/alfabetul-culorilor.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1629456136648604029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1629456136648604029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/alfabetul-culorilor.html' title='Alfabetul culorilor'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlG10CnDWGI/AAAAAAAAAGY/T-fexKoSVz8/s72-c/423_culori.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-776942334415900738</id><published>2009-07-06T00:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:27:16.213-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Step by step</title><content type='html'>Ieri mi-a zambit luna.Da,numai mie.Eu am privit-o tacut.Era vara,era seara si gandurile mele zburasera departe,dar ea m-a readus la realitate. &lt;div&gt;Avea ochii expresivi si doua buze imense si intense.A incercat sa-mi vorbeasca,dar nu a &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlGzD00kY6I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/vCEpOHbXoS0/s1600-h/untitled23.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355258310220342178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 171px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 236px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlGzD00kY6I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/vCEpOHbXoS0/s320/untitled23.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;reusit...apoi,s-a multumit cu un zambet.Bland.Sincer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Drumul era lung,mintea se juca cu sufletul.Dar inima?Se imbolnavise,,era slabita,nu putea sa inoate,fara tine...Stiam ca iti duc dorul,dar am tacut,am suspinat,am incercat sa-mi gasesc un alt drum.Acum vedeam doar soseaua,in care farurile se oglindeaua.Si o comparam cu viata mea,plina de gropi,cu vantul ce te racorea,cu aerul putin sarat,cu luna care zambea...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Imi simt buzele uscate,le ating,dar nici ele nu stiu ce vor.Poti sa fugi de trecut?Poti sa te ascunzi de viitor?Poti sa uiti vreodata nisipul uscat de caldura soarelui de vara?Sau primul sarut pe plaja,cand doar marea va simtea?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...eu nu am reusit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-776942334415900738?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/776942334415900738/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/step-by-step.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/776942334415900738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/776942334415900738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/step-by-step.html' title='Step by step'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SlGzD00kY6I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/vCEpOHbXoS0/s72-c/untitled23.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3673384832799644048</id><published>2009-07-04T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:29:31.460-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Singura noastra scapare...</title><content type='html'>Nu mai poti sa refuzi,nu te lasa sa crezi...te invata sa-ti cauti iubirea pe net.Cineva sa ne faca din nou fericiti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Va regasiti la mare...&lt;br /&gt;-Nimic din ceea ce a fost nu se mai intoarce.&lt;br /&gt;-Azi sunt optimist.&lt;br /&gt;-Viata se schimba,noi ne schimbam,dar toate merg inainte.&lt;br /&gt;-Copii si oamenii putin ametiti spun adevarul?&lt;br /&gt;-Deobicei scapi de inhibitii sau uiti de ele...&lt;br /&gt;-Cumpara o grasa.&lt;br /&gt;-Vrei sa ma vezi cum nu am mai fost niciodata?&lt;br /&gt;-Doar un mesaj...&lt;br /&gt;-Poate ma urc in masina,ajung la mare si imi sterg ultima luna din memorie.&lt;br /&gt;-E posibil?&lt;br /&gt;-Sau...&lt;br /&gt;-Si esti sarat,nu?&lt;br /&gt;-Ce hotarata esti...&lt;br /&gt;-Ce bine ca esti gemeni,iti permiti sa iti planifici chestii.&lt;br /&gt;-Niciodata...&lt;br /&gt;-Eu ma las dus de val,niciodata nu vad in viitor.&lt;br /&gt;-Si iar imi e dor de mare...&lt;br /&gt;-Am mancat 2 kg de ciocolata sa-mi revin.&lt;br /&gt;-Suntem ca doua babe ce bocesc...&lt;br /&gt;-Stii senzatia cand pleci?&lt;br /&gt;-Stiu senzatia cand ajung...&lt;br /&gt;-Un pic de tristete,un pic de fericire si mereu un pic de inconstienta...&lt;br /&gt;-Iti trecuse dorul?&lt;br /&gt;-Se pare ca tu faci o legatura intre mine si mare...&lt;br /&gt;-Devine cel putin ciudat...&lt;br /&gt;-Sa nu uiti sa visezi.&lt;br /&gt;-Nu am ce...&lt;br /&gt;-Amantii...sau marea.&lt;br /&gt;-Pe stanci daca vrei te sarut...&lt;br /&gt;-Sau in apa mi-e totuna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354551363817021634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sk8wGIPloMI/AAAAAAAAAGI/4fnVz-oJpL0/s320/fun-under-the-sea-fish-fabric.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Niciodata sa nu uiti...de inima ta.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3673384832799644048?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3673384832799644048/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/singura-noastra-scapare.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3673384832799644048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3673384832799644048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/singura-noastra-scapare.html' title='Singura noastra scapare...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sk8wGIPloMI/AAAAAAAAAGI/4fnVz-oJpL0/s72-c/fun-under-the-sea-fish-fabric.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-2725755530302844186</id><published>2009-07-01T00:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T00:46:43.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vise spulberate</title><content type='html'>Timpul trece din ce in ce mai repede,nimic si nimeni nu il poate opri.Dar timpul poate opri viata.Timpul uita,sterge,omoara sentimente...Timpul este punctul pe care noi ne bazam si devine viata,stare,poate si reusita...fara timp nu am trai,dar fara viata nu ar exista.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SksUIIJdIfI/AAAAAAAAAGA/CdJIXKRdkX0/s1600-h/579_Tabla%2520de%2520sah_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SksUIIJdIfI/AAAAAAAAAGA/CdJIXKRdkX0/s200/579_Tabla%2520de%2520sah_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353394711918617074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ating cu degetele mobila din casa si stiu ca  timpul o sa mi-o ia...sau poate o sa dispar eu inaintea ei.Nu se stie.&lt;br /&gt;Timpul se joaca,se plictiseaste si incepe sa mute piesele pe tabla de sah.Poti numara timpul in secunde,minute...ani,dar nu poti stii cat tine clipa.Sa fie o ora?Sa fie o viata?...sau viata e o clipa fata de nemuritorul timp.&lt;br /&gt;Timpul a devenit soare,iar noi lumea...suntem multi,iar el e singur.Suntem puternici,dar el e...timpul.&lt;br /&gt;El inoata in albastreala marii si iese ca un supravietuitor.Pe moment uiti de el,iesi din intensitatea timpul,dar...iti amintesti.Si nu,nu esti fericit...Timpul nu ne face fericiti,pentru ca el ne fura copilaria,ne fura viata si sentimentele si...persoana iubita.&lt;br /&gt;Suntem mereu pierduti in amintiri sau cu griji pentru viitor.Foarte putin ne gandim la prezent...uitam sa zambim.Suntem fericiti doar atunci cand deschidem o sticla de vin si pierdem notiunea timpului,cand uitam de noi...cand fluturam o tigara,desi nu suntem fumatori.Atunci suntem fericiti...cand nu suntem noi,cand nu e timpul sa ne streseze,sa ne invete ce e viata.Sticla de vin te poarta in lumea in care vrei sa fii.Dar totul se intampla in imaginatia ta,doar a ta...&lt;br /&gt;Iubesc timpul,dar vreau  ma pierd pentru totdeauna in infinitul fractiunii de secunda.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-2725755530302844186?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/2725755530302844186/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/vise-spulberate.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2725755530302844186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2725755530302844186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/07/vise-spulberate.html' title='Vise spulberate'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SksUIIJdIfI/AAAAAAAAAGA/CdJIXKRdkX0/s72-c/579_Tabla%2520de%2520sah_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-5163071751811242381</id><published>2009-06-29T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:28:28.012-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Buze pierdute</title><content type='html'>Imi e dor...de tine si de noi,de noi,noi amandoi;&lt;br /&gt;...de diminetile lungi de vara,cand imi zambeai;&lt;br /&gt;...de plimbarile,ce nu tineau cont de ora sau de timp;&lt;br /&gt;...de luna ce ne privea si noaptea ne ocrotea...;&lt;br /&gt;...de trandafirii ce parfum ne dadeau;&lt;br /&gt;...de mancarea pregatita cu atata grija de noi doi;&lt;br /&gt;...de soarele ce-mi zambea,cand ma vedea cu tine;&lt;br /&gt;...de sarutul tau rece in zilele calduroase de vara;&lt;br /&gt;...de racoarea din fiecare seara,cand tu cu o imbratisare ma incalzeai;&lt;br /&gt;...de nisipul rece,pe care noaptea ne intindeam;&lt;br /&gt;...de privirea plina de gelozie a oamenilor cand impreuna ne vedeau;&lt;br /&gt;...de mangaierea ta calda,intr-o seara de mai;&lt;br /&gt;...de marea ce ne spala pe amandoi,impreuna.&lt;br /&gt;...de ochii tai,care pierduti ma priveau;&lt;br /&gt;...de rasul de duminica dimineata;&lt;br /&gt;...de noptiile tarzii cand afara ne furisam;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Skjw5y45nQI/AAAAAAAAAF4/P21P_nJDa6U/s1600-h/921ec05e9e6a04cb1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352793032833473794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 131px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Skjw5y45nQI/AAAAAAAAAF4/P21P_nJDa6U/s200/921ec05e9e6a04cb1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...de certurile noastre prostesti,care se terminau cu o imbratisare si un sarut;&lt;br /&gt;...de ceasul tau...;&lt;br /&gt;...de viata mea...cu tine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma pierd in amintirea noastra...cand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;"Un baiat cu haine largi scria bilete de iubire pe furis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;O fata minunata le citea,singura pe banca din parc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;De mana alergau catre liceu, doi bulgari indragostiti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Fata se topea in bratele lui, baiatul acela sunt tu..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vama Veche,Buze blond&lt;/span&gt;e...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-5163071751811242381?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/5163071751811242381/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/buze-pierdute.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5163071751811242381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/5163071751811242381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/buze-pierdute.html' title='Buze pierdute'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Skjw5y45nQI/AAAAAAAAAF4/P21P_nJDa6U/s72-c/921ec05e9e6a04cb1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-2202068917842018349</id><published>2009-06-29T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:26:47.833-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Where is the love?</title><content type='html'>Inceputul e cel mai greu.Intotdeauna totul depinde de inceput.Ai observat vreodata ca atunci cand iti alegi o pereche de pantofi imediat iti vin ideile si pentru restul tinutei?...sau cand scrii un eseu cea mai grea parte este prima?...sau cand visezi?asta pentru ca trebuie sa incepi...Totul se bazeaza pe inceput.Fara inceput nu ar mai fi cuprins sau incheiere.O actiune de durata,stabila,euforica se bazeaza pe prima parte.O relatie se bazeaza pe primul zambet sau prima privire...totul se bazeaza pe inceput.&lt;br /&gt;Fluturasii se simt la prima intalnire,cand incerci ca totul sa fie perfect,cand stai ore in sir in fata oglinzii,cand meditezi la hainele in care vrei sa te imbraci,cand machiajul nu e niciodata indeajuns de bun,cand timpul nu te lasa in pace,cand parfumul iti zambeste de pe noptiera,cand mama iti spune sa ajungi devreme acasa si sa ai grija,cand catelul iti ureaza:"Bafta".De ce pui atat de mult suflet la prima intalnire?Datorita dorintei de puritate...Iti place sa faci toate astea,pentru ca stii ca prima impresie e importanta...inceputul.&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi "Where is the love?".Unde e?Nu stiu...caut-o.&lt;br /&gt;Poate e ascunsa in buzunar,sau poate ai uitat-o in pantoful de seara...sau nuu...stiu,ai uitat-o acasa la prietena ta?...sau e devina fostul,ca nu poti trece peste?&lt;br /&gt;Nimic nu conteaza acum...viata se schimba,totul se schimba,tot ce ramane e prima impresie...inceputul.As putea compara viata cu liftul,caci urca tare,dar niciodata nu esti sigur ca vei ajunge la destinatie.Mereu ai in suflet teama ca se v-a opri intre etaje si nimeni nu o sa fie acolo sa te ajute.Sau iti e frica de micile "escapade" ale liftlui?Este ceva tot timpul nesigur...Asa e si viata,usoara si firava ca un fir de ata.Capatul principal este inceputul...cu cat e mai puternic,cu atat vei avea o vi&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkjkUNtxVaI/AAAAAAAAAFo/VTTlRRkrVew/s1600-h/ocean.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352779193059988898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkjkUNtxVaI/AAAAAAAAAFo/VTTlRRkrVew/s320/ocean.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ata...mai ambitioasa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iubirea e peste tot...acasa,la tara,in fata blocului,la serviciu,in parc,in masina,in mall,sambata in club,in viata,in fata calculatorului...pe tren sau in gara,dar si pe plaja,langa mare,noaptea,cand doar luna vegheaza si apa spala sufletele...Trebuie doar sa o gasesti.Sau sa o cauti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;Nimeni n-o sa iti explice ce e dragostea,&lt;br /&gt;Asta singur intr-o zi de vara-o vei afla,&lt;br /&gt;Si atunci, sa nu uiti, de inima ta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;"Vama Veche,Epilog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-2202068917842018349?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/2202068917842018349/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/where-is-love.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2202068917842018349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2202068917842018349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/where-is-love.html' title='Where is the love?'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkjkUNtxVaI/AAAAAAAAAFo/VTTlRRkrVew/s72-c/ocean.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-222612475686788871</id><published>2009-06-26T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T01:50:03.495-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Albastrul marii</title><content type='html'>Azi m-a intalnit cu o stea,toata ziua am vorbit cu ea.I-am povestit de mine si de tine,de noaptea ce vine,de viata noastra impreuna si ca...da,te-am inselat.I-am zis si asta.De ce?Pentru ca m-am simtit mai bine...&lt;br /&gt;Ma privea cu ochii ei goi,ma asculta linistita si uneori ma intrelupeaA fost frumos,as vrea sa ma mai intalnesc cu ea...iar marea mi-a soptit ca o voi gasi tot acolo.&lt;br /&gt;A adus cu ea si...hmm,spuma marii...era alba,multa si sarata.M-a facut fericita numai privind-o.Era frumoasa.Soarele i-a zambit,ea a inceput sa straluceasca...si in cateva minute a disparut.Atunci am simtit o lacrima cum se zbatea,vroia sa iasa,dar nu am lasat-o...mi-am amintit de tine si toata tristetea mi s-a sfarsit.&lt;br /&gt;A inceput sa bata vantul,stelei i s-a facut frig,tremura...am simtit cum se chinuia sa a priveasca...atunci am renuntat la ea,am ajutat-o sa ajunga acasa,la ea...acasa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi e dor de ea,dar stiu ca ea ramane steaua mea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-222612475686788871?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/222612475686788871/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/azi-m-intalnit-cu-o-steatoata-ziua.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/222612475686788871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/222612475686788871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/azi-m-intalnit-cu-o-steatoata-ziua.html' title='Albastrul marii'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-4209691914300755340</id><published>2009-06-25T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:23:23.838-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vise'/><title type='text'>Dorinte pierdute...</title><content type='html'>As putea deveni:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* un nor,pentru ca mereu pluteste.&lt;br /&gt;* roz, pentru ca viata e colorata.&lt;br /&gt;* o frunza ,pentru ca toamna se ofileste.&lt;br /&gt;* o sina de tren, pentru ca reprezinta drumul drept.&lt;br /&gt;* o perdea subtire, pentru ca pluteste in bataia vantului.&lt;br /&gt;* luna, pentru ca e pururea indragostita.&lt;br /&gt;* un fir de par, pentru ca e firav.&lt;br /&gt;* jensii de pe tine, pentru ca ii vezi des.&lt;br /&gt;* un fulg de nea, pentru ca repede se topeste.&lt;br /&gt;* un sunet, pentru ca se face auzit.&lt;br /&gt;* cerul, pentru ca vede totul in jurul lui.&lt;br /&gt;* doza de cola, pentru ca e dulce si acida.&lt;br /&gt;* o maimuta, pentru ca mananca mult si sanatos.&lt;br /&gt;* un tren personal, pentru ca opreste in fiecare statie.&lt;br /&gt;* o inima...de ciocolata, pentru ca e speciala.&lt;br /&gt;* soarele, pentru ca trimite raze.&lt;br /&gt;* gemenii de la coltul blocului, pentru ca au dubla personalitate.&lt;br /&gt;* o lacrima, pentru ca e sarata si melancolica.&lt;br /&gt;* un trandafir, pentru ca e frumos si plin de tepi.&lt;br /&gt;* pixul, pentru ca scrie doar cat are pasta.&lt;br /&gt;* barca, pentru ca te clatini...dar vei ajunge la destinatie.&lt;br /&gt;* blogul, pentru ca te face sa-l cunosti.&lt;br /&gt;* niste spaghette, pentru ca sunt lungi si gustoase.&lt;br /&gt;* telefonul, pentru ca e mereu in miscare.&lt;br /&gt;* tastele, pentru ca sunt mereu utilizate.&lt;br /&gt;* firiderul, pentru ca e rece in interior.&lt;br /&gt;* prezervativul, pentru ca e folositor.&lt;br /&gt;* furculita, pentru ca e folositoare.&lt;br /&gt;* tricoul preferat, pentru ca e nou si colorat.&lt;br /&gt;* tigara, pentru ca e nociva.&lt;br /&gt;* masina de scris, pentru e neutilizata.&lt;br /&gt;* penseta, pentru ca isi ia ultimele defecte.&lt;br /&gt;* fondul de ten, pentru ca isi acopera imperfectiunile.&lt;br /&gt;* sapunul, pentru ca te curata.&lt;br /&gt;* inima, pentru ca te poarta in ea.&lt;br /&gt;* marea,pentru ca o iubesti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkPDVaT2jQI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Z5Y0BSgBSBs/s1600-h/viata-si-moarte-4-8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351335554853539074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 249px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkPDVaT2jQI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Z5Y0BSgBSBs/s320/viata-si-moarte-4-8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;atomicelement id="ms__id3484"&gt;&lt;atomicelement id="ms__id4287"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkPDJFIEBbI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/KzEaHvMGZvI/s1600-h/viata-si-moarte-4-8.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/atomicelement&gt;&lt;/atomicelement&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar azi iubesc...si nu am timp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-4209691914300755340?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/4209691914300755340/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/as-putea-deveni-un-norpentru-ca-mereu.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4209691914300755340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4209691914300755340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/as-putea-deveni-un-norpentru-ca-mereu.html' title='Dorinte pierdute...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkPDVaT2jQI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Z5Y0BSgBSBs/s72-c/viata-si-moarte-4-8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-723637216720131037</id><published>2009-06-25T10:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T10:55:31.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ultima picatura...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkO5mpXumOI/AAAAAAAAAFI/T50dttsMpnc/s1600-h/469_45acd2c0c4268.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351324855837825250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkO5mpXumOI/AAAAAAAAAFI/T50dttsMpnc/s320/469_45acd2c0c4268.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pierduta in lumea geloziei fara speranta,unde totul se intampla incet,cu minute transformate in ore,iar orele in zile.&lt;br /&gt;Ma pierd in trecutul zbuciumat,in noptiile tarzii de vara.Imi e dor de cafelele lungi,de la terasele larg deschise.&lt;br /&gt;Ma pierd in ultima tigara fumata repede,in ultimul sarut cu ochii inchisi pe plaja,in ultima plimbare pe trapa,in ultima clipa cu tine...&lt;br /&gt;Ma pierd in trecut,dar visez la viitor.Toate se schimba.Secundele se schimba.Clipele se sfarsesc.Emotiile se amplifica,dar dezamagirea ne striveste grav viata.Frica ne amorteste pielea si ne da palpitatii ale inimii.Durerile se maresc,ies din tipare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unde esti tu oare?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-723637216720131037?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/723637216720131037/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/ultima-picatura.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/723637216720131037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/723637216720131037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/ultima-picatura.html' title='Ultima picatura...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkO5mpXumOI/AAAAAAAAAFI/T50dttsMpnc/s72-c/469_45acd2c0c4268.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1082141501124408224</id><published>2009-06-25T00:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:29:06.711-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><title type='text'>Expozitia mea de scoici...</title><content type='html'>Dar am uitat ce am avut si am ajuns indiferent si am pierdut-o ca pe-un fulg ce-n mana-l pierzi cand s-a topit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ce vesela esti azi...Ti-a trecut dorul?&lt;br /&gt;-Nu,dar vreau sa demonestrez indiferenta...&lt;br /&gt;-Ai putea sa te apuci de o cura urgenta...de mare.Am vazut ca trece...&lt;br /&gt;-Ce?&lt;br /&gt;-Rautatea.&lt;br /&gt;-Se poate?&lt;br /&gt;-La mare...daca ma injura cineva il iau la bere.&lt;br /&gt;-La o blonda?&lt;br /&gt;-Deobicei imi plac satenele.&lt;br /&gt;-Pe mine de ce nu m-ai luat la o "satena"?&lt;br /&gt;-Tot ce ai fi spus dupa o grasa ar fi...&lt;br /&gt;-Esti nebun?&lt;br /&gt;-Exact,dar...&lt;br /&gt;-Grasa e prietena mea cea mai buna,stiai?&lt;br /&gt;-I-ai povestit toate secretele?&lt;br /&gt;-Tu?&lt;br /&gt;-Aseara m-am uitat la specializarile facultatii de marina civila din Constantza.&lt;br /&gt;-Pentru fete?&lt;br /&gt;-Nu vreau sa ma vad intr-un birou,in costum.Un slip ar fi deajuns.&lt;br /&gt;-Esti Chirila in tinerete.&lt;br /&gt;-Am chef doar de aer,soare si mare.&lt;br /&gt;-Sau de mine...&lt;br /&gt;-Mereu cand o sa vreau sa ne intalnim...&lt;br /&gt;-Ce?&lt;br /&gt;-O sa iau apa de mare si am sa te ud,doar asa te vei trezi...&lt;br /&gt;-Hai sa fugim in Vama&lt;br /&gt;-Eu vreau in Neptun...&lt;br /&gt;-Poti sa vrei in Vama...&lt;br /&gt;-In Olimp sunt doar urmele de la tractorul care matura plaja.E liniste...&lt;br /&gt;-Au trecut 2 saptamani...&lt;br /&gt;-Decand dormeam la curs.&lt;br /&gt;-Da,dar am stat toata noaptea la rasaritul plin de nori.&lt;br /&gt;-Eram frumoasa?&lt;br /&gt;-Erai exact "omul plajei",pieduta si ganditoare.Deja sunt invidios.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pe stanci daca vrei te sarut...sau in apa mi-e totuna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkMwFycgmDI/AAAAAAAAAFA/Xk75qfbOJSU/s1600-h/green_seastars_carolinesrogers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351173658245109810" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 206px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkMwFycgmDI/AAAAAAAAAFA/Xk75qfbOJSU/s320/green_seastars_carolinesrogers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prietenie, plaja, foc, dragoste, putere, tinerete, fum,&lt;br /&gt;iubire, amintire, val, nepasare, lupta, orgasm ideal...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Majoro,iti mai aduci aminte parola?&lt;br /&gt;-Imi place?&lt;br /&gt;-Ceeeee?&lt;br /&gt;-Inghetata...&lt;br /&gt;-Era sa-mi scape un zambet.&lt;br /&gt;-Esti nebun?&lt;br /&gt;-Tu pana la urma de cine te indragostesti?&lt;br /&gt;-Pai...conteaza?&lt;br /&gt;-Pe noi ne-a legat marea si daca stie cum e...o sa priceapa.&lt;br /&gt;-Crezi ca se supara vreunu dintre ei daca ne intalnim singuri?&lt;br /&gt;-Te duci cu el la mare?&lt;br /&gt;-Vrei sa facem schimb de parteneri?&lt;br /&gt;-Pe limba ta o soapte vreau sa ajung...&lt;br /&gt;-Sa ma intind pe tot pamantul...&lt;br /&gt;-Ce e mai frumos de atat?&lt;br /&gt;-O plaja goala,o insula pustie,o mare cristialina.&lt;br /&gt;-Fara tine,cred ca m-as plictisi.&lt;br /&gt;-In dragoste indiferentza-i ce mai greaaaaaaa.&lt;br /&gt;-Nu am chef azi,de vodca sau de gin,tequila,rom sau vin.&lt;br /&gt;-Tot ce scoate fum imi ocupa gandurile.&lt;br /&gt;-Din lipsa de mare?&lt;br /&gt;-M-a intrebat cineva daca te cunosc.&lt;br /&gt;-Iti era dor?&lt;br /&gt;-Nu te mai tinusem in brate de 4 zile.&lt;br /&gt;-Si tu gazda primitoare.&lt;br /&gt;-Le-am deschis deja...&lt;br /&gt;-Ce bine e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un delfin ma invata cum...de departe sa-mi aud...Sufletul,cand l-am pierdut.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1082141501124408224?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1082141501124408224/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/expozitia-mea-de-scoici.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1082141501124408224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1082141501124408224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/expozitia-mea-de-scoici.html' title='Expozitia mea de scoici...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkMwFycgmDI/AAAAAAAAAFA/Xk75qfbOJSU/s72-c/green_seastars_carolinesrogers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-7975319296731934279</id><published>2009-06-24T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:30:25.918-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Dorinta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkK-JMply6I/AAAAAAAAAE4/bfrh1Vj9Cy8/s1600-h/inimioare.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351048372493339554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkK-JMply6I/AAAAAAAAAE4/bfrh1Vj9Cy8/s320/inimioare.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pierdut te zaresc mereu,&lt;br /&gt;Oare ce e asa de greu?&lt;br /&gt;Sa ma iubesti si pe mine,&lt;br /&gt;Cum o faci cu orisicine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma gandesc mereu la tine,&lt;br /&gt;Si poate ca nu e bine.&lt;br /&gt;Insa inima bate-n piept,&lt;br /&gt;Oare pe cine trebuie sa iert?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pierduta sunt si eu,&lt;br /&gt;In gandul tau mereu.&lt;br /&gt;Si incerc cu disperare,&lt;br /&gt;Sa fiu in a ta...inima mare.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-7975319296731934279?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/7975319296731934279/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/dorinta.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7975319296731934279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/7975319296731934279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/dorinta.html' title='Dorinta'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkK-JMply6I/AAAAAAAAAE4/bfrh1Vj9Cy8/s72-c/inimioare.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-8718262277982444608</id><published>2009-06-24T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:22:54.907-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Geamanul vietii</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkK4aq9VzGI/AAAAAAAAAEw/dsZ85xFTGyI/s1600-h/Gemeni_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351042075617250402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkK4aq9VzGI/AAAAAAAAAEw/dsZ85xFTGyI/s320/Gemeni_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zilele trecute am observat cat de bine poti sa "citesti" o persoana din gesturi, cuvinte si pronuntie.Dar cum poti sa citesti un nativ gemeni?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adu-ti aminte ca semnul Gemeni e unul dublu si ca exista doua laturi ale personalitatii lui schimbatoare.Schimbarile de expresie a unui geaman sunt lafel de repede ca laserele dintr-o discoteca.E greu sa vezi unde e realitatea si unde e lumea lor,fantastica.Se amesteca,apoi se separa.Un geaman isi poate schimba viata lafel de repede cat ii ia sa se razgandeasca.&lt;br /&gt;Vrei sa studiezi un geaman?Hmm...e genul care frunzareste cartile pentru ca isi da seama repede de esenta.De cele mai multe ori citesc ultima pagina ca fiind prima.De ce?...Pentru ca vor sa stie totul repede,inainte de a se plictisi.Toata lumea stie ca un geaman nu isi poate lasa privirea asupra unui lucru mai mult de cateva secunde.Nu poti lega nativul din gemeni de o idee sau un singur loc.Dar cea mai mare gresala e sa te contrazici cu un geaman...asta pt ca poate sa iese din cele mai grele situatii fara probleme.Mintea ii merge cu viteza luminii,are simtul ironiei taioase...si e mai destept ca aproape oricine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te-ai intrebat vreodata ce zodie are acela care apare de unde nu iti dai seama...si trece pe langa tine inainte sa ii poti raspunde la salut?Gemenii sunt plini de surprize...mai ales atunci cand se indragostesc.Cum se indragostesc?Repede...sunt pururea indragostiti...Am citit recent:"Gemeni si Gemeni... stai asa, sa mai numaram o data : voi CÂTI sunteti de fapt? Dualitate si dualitate... Fiecare dintre voi are doua fetze, iar doi ori doi...".La inceput am ras...am glumit si am povestit.&lt;br /&gt;Acum vine deznodamanul...si Da,e adevarat.Cand un geaman se indragosteste de un alt geaman trebuie sa se inteleaga 4 persoane nu doar 2...si deobicei relatia nu merge decat in primele luni.De ce?Pentru ca noua,gemenii ne place sa flirtam Foarte mult...dar mai stiu ceva:"2 Gemeni la un loc... în fiecare dimineata, lumea va fi altfel".Si asta e total adevarat.Singurul loc unde gemenii se inteleg in 4 este in pat pentru ca le place sa experimenteze si sa nu intervina plictiseala.As putea sa trec peste zodiile cu care nu se intelege sau se intelege geamanul si as putea spune ca: Nu conteaza cine esti cu un geaman nu ai cum sa te plictisesti.De ce?Pentru ca se plictiseste el inainte ta si v-a face imediat ceva nou,inedit.Daca te casatoresti cu o femeie gemeni...clar vei avea 2 neveste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gemenii nu ar putea sa taca niciodata daca ar avea ceva de spus.Vorbesc mult,dar bine si fara sa te plictiseasca,nu ar putea sa-ti intoarca spatele daca ai nevoie de ajutor.Nativii din gemeni isi fac foarte multe planuri,ar avea nevoie de un calculator sa le organizeze,dar de cele mai multe ori se plictisesc la jumatate le lasa balta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunt o zodie complexa,plina de surprize,dar ne place distractia si niciodata nu uitam de munca.Si deci cum ai putea sa "citesti" un nativ din gemeni,cand el poate intruchipa mai multe persoane...desi e doar una?!?Daca ai reusit...spune-mi si mie...pentru ca uneori nici macar eu nu ma pot "citi".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-8718262277982444608?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/8718262277982444608/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/geamanul-vietii.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8718262277982444608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/8718262277982444608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/geamanul-vietii.html' title='Geamanul vietii'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkK4aq9VzGI/AAAAAAAAAEw/dsZ85xFTGyI/s72-c/Gemeni_01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-2774299220046589284</id><published>2009-06-24T08:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T08:35:06.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Plang</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkJHklFXZLI/AAAAAAAAAEo/01GfJxlD3Yw/s1600-h/mare301.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkJHklFXZLI/AAAAAAAAAEo/01GfJxlD3Yw/s200/mare301.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350918001025049778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plang dupa a iubirii speranta,&lt;br /&gt;Vad doar o mica fata&lt;br /&gt;Fara trup,fara viata.&lt;br /&gt;Oare cine stie,&lt;br /&gt;Ca-i vorba de iubire?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plang pentru adierea de vara&lt;br /&gt;Caci ea devine rece,&lt;br /&gt;Vine iarna cea inspaimantatore.&lt;br /&gt;Si iubirea,iar dispare...&lt;br /&gt;In locuri pline de soare?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plang dupa a marii culoare&lt;br /&gt;Apa sa ma racoreasca,&lt;br /&gt;Spuma sa ma albeasca,&lt;br /&gt;Raceala sa ma imbolnaveasca.&lt;br /&gt;Pe cine iubesc eu,oare?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-2774299220046589284?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/2774299220046589284/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/plang.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2774299220046589284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/2774299220046589284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/plang.html' title='Plang'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkJHklFXZLI/AAAAAAAAAEo/01GfJxlD3Yw/s72-c/mare301.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-220385098665377979</id><published>2009-06-24T07:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T07:30:29.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Soapte...</title><content type='html'>Privesc inceputul de ploaie si...ma tot gandesc:"Eu ce-s?".O speranta?O floare?Un melc?Un om? sau un soare?&lt;br /&gt;     Gandu-i gol,dar privesc usor...sunt numai persoane si fiecare n-are...Un glas mi-a soptit a vietii culoare,caci ea devine biculoare in mainile tale.&lt;br /&gt;     O durere ma infioara,o lacrima ma omoara...stiu ca te-as iubi neincetat,dar TU ce mi-ai dat?!?Mi-ai dat iubire si armonie,mi-ai dat si sarea si zaharul,mi-ai dar soarele si stelele...si mi-ai mai dat: Un Singur Dor.&lt;br /&gt;  Imi e dor...de tine si de noi...de noi,noi amandoi...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-220385098665377979?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/220385098665377979/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/soapte.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/220385098665377979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/220385098665377979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/soapte.html' title='Soapte...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-4969151947577139569</id><published>2009-06-24T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:21:47.814-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><title type='text'>Top 10 Vama Veche</title><content type='html'>10...-Plutonier major Capsuna, va rog sa-mi aratati si mie documentele dumneavoastra&lt;br /&gt;Nu ne mai trageti pe dreapta..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pyKzv8aiiPE&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9...So,I believe I have to go for somebody else’s show&lt;br /&gt;Bed for love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/j65cXmatKfQ&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8...Singura noastra scapare Sa ramanem toti la mare&lt;br /&gt;Omul plajei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qT8269A3nI4&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7...Suntem numai noi doi,aa..si Marea&lt;br /&gt;Dragostea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hI-K84pFW04&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6...Povestea merge mai departe...ca vantul din Vama Veche&lt;br /&gt;Vama Veche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xcNdgP3Gi_I&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5...Visele mele se implinesc...cand bat din palme sau cand clipesc.&lt;br /&gt;18 ani&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1nXeYMxtwQM&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4...Ti-am suflat cu dor pe gene..&lt;br /&gt;Zmeul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sj1Asfw7avE&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3...Pe tine te urasc.Nu te vreau azi...&lt;br /&gt;Nu am chef azi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/w_4nLtYqtyc&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2...Si o beau&lt;br /&gt;Vara asta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/InwO1ObFPPE&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1...Soarele iti incalzeste trupul pentru seara ce vine in curand&lt;br /&gt;Undeva prin Vama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0mLvwVIW83g&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;color1=" color2="0x4e9e00" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-4969151947577139569?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/4969151947577139569/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/top-10-vama-veche.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4969151947577139569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/4969151947577139569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/top-10-vama-veche.html' title='Top 10 Vama Veche'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-9190507014158214093</id><published>2009-06-24T03:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:19:14.517-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><title type='text'>Zona sufletelor noastre...</title><content type='html'>Am doar 18 ani,sunt nebun iubesc si nu am bani!Nimeni nu-mi sta in drum,am soseaua mea doar cu-n singur sens ma va duce undeva...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-La multi ani...&lt;br /&gt;-Merci...&lt;br /&gt;-Poti sa pastrezi o sticla de vin...pentru adevaratul tau majorat.&lt;br /&gt;-La mare?&lt;br /&gt;-Cu mine,de preferabil.&lt;br /&gt;-Esti nebun?&lt;br /&gt;-Marea are influente ciudate...doar par,un pic.&lt;br /&gt;-E sarata?...&lt;br /&gt;-Cum sa ametesti de la un sarut?Buzele noastre danseaza pe cer...&lt;br /&gt;-De ce s-a terminat asa repede?&lt;br /&gt;-Constinta s-ar fi trezit din betie...&lt;br /&gt;-Ce s-a intamplat cu rasaritul?&lt;br /&gt;-L-am eclipsat...eram ceva unic.&lt;br /&gt;-Intre betoane...&lt;br /&gt;-Stii bine ca...marea te spala.&lt;br /&gt;-Vreau la mareeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.&lt;br /&gt;-Esti pierdutaaaa...&lt;br /&gt;-Sunt pierduta...in mare.Esti usor...&lt;br /&gt;-Am doar soare prin vene.Plaja-i plina de oameni adormiti de placere.&lt;br /&gt;-Esti purtat de vant?&lt;br /&gt;-Vreau la mare...singur,egoist.Vreau linistea aia.. nici o soapta,nici un parfum strain,nici o prezenta...doar marea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkIXfHb1LZI/AAAAAAAAAEY/dcRQdDkmoms/s1600-h/love3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350865130608733586" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkIXfHb1LZI/AAAAAAAAAEY/dcRQdDkmoms/s320/love3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ai plecat, Făt Frumos, şi ai luat cu tine şi Binele şï Răul... Te urăsc, Făt Frumos... Te urăsc!&lt;br /&gt;-Ai fi putut măcar să îmi spui cum ai făcut să o iubeşti doar pe ea, Făt Frumos...pe Ileana Cosînzeana...&lt;br /&gt;-Nu o poti iubi numai pe Ea?&lt;br /&gt;-Pentru mine...Ea e Marea...&lt;br /&gt;-Si restu?&lt;br /&gt;-Sunt amantele mele...Eu pe ea o iubesc.&lt;br /&gt;-Si...cand iti saruti amantele sunt mai dulci ca ea?&lt;br /&gt;-Ea e sarata...e speciala.&lt;br /&gt;-Si nu o sa iubesti o alta?&lt;br /&gt;-Niciodata...O sa o iau de nevasta,o sa ma mut pe plaja...&lt;br /&gt;-Respiri iubire...mananci iubire...ne dai la toti si ne molipsim.&lt;br /&gt;-Nimic in lume,nu ma opresete Sa urlu tare...TE IUBESC!!!&lt;br /&gt;-Si ea iti raspunde cu valurile care incearca sa te prinda...&lt;br /&gt;-Daca inchid ochii pot sa ma visez la mare.&lt;br /&gt;-Incearca...&lt;br /&gt;-Si daca se intampla,o sa fim 30 de secunde pe plaja privind la un rasarit fara nori.&lt;br /&gt;-Te-as interna la Spitalul 9.&lt;br /&gt;-Daca ar fi pe plaja...si tu asistenta mea.&lt;br /&gt;-Terapia s-ar baza pe rasarit zi de zi.&lt;br /&gt;-Si seara...ai merge cu mine in Vama?&lt;br /&gt;-Vrei sa mor visand?&lt;br /&gt;-Esti cu mine...ai ajunge acolo unde visezi.&lt;br /&gt;-Shhh...&lt;br /&gt;-I-am inchis deja...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...in ultimul cort e inca liniste....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-9190507014158214093?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/9190507014158214093/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/am-doar-18-anisunt-nebun-iubesc-si-nu.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9190507014158214093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9190507014158214093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/am-doar-18-anisunt-nebun-iubesc-si-nu.html' title='Zona sufletelor noastre...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkIXfHb1LZI/AAAAAAAAAEY/dcRQdDkmoms/s72-c/love3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-938230066866022131</id><published>2009-06-24T02:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T02:29:41.984-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Tortul viselor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa adun stele si sa le aduc in camera mea.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa sting toate luminile de pe bulevard.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa culeg ploaia doar pentru inima mea. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa iti vorbesc de mare.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa ating curcubeul.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa analizez un fulg de nea.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa infloresc trandafirii. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa ma gandesc la tine.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa calc pe nori. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa simt marea aproape.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa simt ca e o zi frumoasa.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa fur soarele. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa te caut. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa uit de timp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa refuz.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa ma imbrac in frunze.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa sarut o orhidee.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa mananc hartie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa ma plimb pe valuri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa te vad in vise.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa vad rasaritul.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa dansez pe valuri.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa cant ca Tudor Chirila.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa gadil luna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa te uit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa vad viitorul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa te simt aproape.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Azi pot sa ma joc prin nisip fin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa visez. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa ma transform in spuma marii.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa fiu copil. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa ii zic "La multi ani" unei prietene.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa desenez o jungla. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa iti pun nisip in par.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa ma plimb prin Delta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Azi pot sa fiu Andreea Raicu.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa ma gandesc la mine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkH0K0zxcXI/AAAAAAAAAEI/x1wAvEg97XI/s1600-h/IMG_0363.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Toate astea pentru ca tu esti aici...Sau nu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkH0iF6EuXI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/KxshrjCwYxU/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350826698831346034" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkH0iF6EuXI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/KxshrjCwYxU/s320/4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;P.S.:&lt;/span&gt;La multi ani,Andreea!:*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkH0K0zxcXI/AAAAAAAAAEI/x1wAvEg97XI/s1600-h/IMG_0363.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-938230066866022131?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/938230066866022131/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/tortul-viselor.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/938230066866022131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/938230066866022131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/tortul-viselor.html' title='Tortul viselor'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkH0iF6EuXI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/KxshrjCwYxU/s72-c/4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-917401925908970428</id><published>2009-06-23T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T01:27:37.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Puzzle cu viata</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkEmI6CqLjI/AAAAAAAAAD4/oG1rem4qvTg/s1600-h/DSC01174.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350599766754078258" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkEmI6CqLjI/AAAAAAAAAD4/oG1rem4qvTg/s400/DSC01174.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apusul e sfarsitul...sau inceputul?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkEmIhOkjwI/AAAAAAAAADw/kck9lrz7Vf0/s1600-h/DSC01138.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350599760093155074" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkEmIhOkjwI/AAAAAAAAADw/kck9lrz7Vf0/s400/DSC01138.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unde te poti ascunde?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkECMQh3olI/AAAAAAAAADY/gBUJ8KNR3R0/s1600-h/DSC02990.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350560241911571026" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkECMQh3olI/AAAAAAAAADY/gBUJ8KNR3R0/s400/DSC02990.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand un om mare isi da seama ca e un om mic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkD4daj7FSI/AAAAAAAAADQ/SwMiokgwyHk/s1600-h/DSC02932.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350549541546038562" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkD4daj7FSI/AAAAAAAAADQ/SwMiokgwyHk/s400/DSC02932.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai impartasi secretele vietii?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkD32_8IbYI/AAAAAAAAADI/Nlttd6_tTAY/s1600-h/DSC02808.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350548881564790146" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkD32_8IbYI/AAAAAAAAADI/Nlttd6_tTAY/s400/DSC02808.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vrei sa nu te uite nimeni?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkD2GUpZh8I/AAAAAAAAAC4/Zp52h8dnLF8/s1600-h/DSC02560.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350546945798145986" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkD2GUpZh8I/AAAAAAAAAC4/Zp52h8dnLF8/s400/DSC02560.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu iti e dor sa-i simti parfumul?Parfumul...copilariei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350547750819356274" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkD21LlaXnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Fkelh55WVtQ/s400/DSC02637.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tot timpul e lumina la capatul tunelului?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-917401925908970428?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/917401925908970428/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/cand-de-mare-poate-fi-un-om-mic-ai.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/917401925908970428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/917401925908970428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/cand-de-mare-poate-fi-un-om-mic-ai.html' title='Puzzle cu viata'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkEmI6CqLjI/AAAAAAAAAD4/oG1rem4qvTg/s72-c/DSC01174.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1506292542506638664</id><published>2009-06-23T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T08:17:53.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O ultima strigare...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;O voce si un zambet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;eu par a fi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O alinare si un bocet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;lumea va deveni.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O albastra cautare &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;in lumea asta mare?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O pierduta noapte,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;a fost departe...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si ar mai fi ceva&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...e usa ta...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkDx3Q894UI/AAAAAAAAACw/QbY0-bD1TqU/s1600-h/imagesCABCRW3S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkDx3Q894UI/AAAAAAAAACw/QbY0-bD1TqU/s1600-h/imagesCABCRW3S.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350542289061929282" style="WIDTH: 125px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 94px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkDx3Q894UI/AAAAAAAAACw/QbY0-bD1TqU/s320/imagesCABCRW3S.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkDx3Q894UI/AAAAAAAAACw/QbY0-bD1TqU/s1600-h/imagesCABCRW3S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1506292542506638664?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1506292542506638664/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-ultima-strigare.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1506292542506638664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1506292542506638664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-ultima-strigare.html' title='O ultima strigare...'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/SkDx3Q894UI/AAAAAAAAACw/QbY0-bD1TqU/s72-c/imagesCABCRW3S.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-1386652833618593476</id><published>2009-06-23T06:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T08:01:40.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Games of love</title><content type='html'>Iubirea moare...sau se regenereaza?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce e iubirea?Zi de zi aud cuvantul Iubire...caut si mii de pagini imi vorbesc despre ea.&lt;br /&gt;Iubire e atunci:&lt;br /&gt;* cand il privesti fara sa te plictisesti?&lt;br /&gt;* cand doarme el la ea...pe canapea?&lt;br /&gt;* cand vama asculti,te pierzi pintre versuri?&lt;br /&gt;* cand te pierzi in ochii lui?&lt;br /&gt;* cand "Soarele rasare Ne vede-mpreună Şi parcă s-ar ascunde,Să nu deranjezeDar nici el n-are somn..."?&lt;br /&gt;* cand te saruta cu ochii inchisi?&lt;br /&gt;* cand ii asculti plictisita povestile,dar ii arati interes?&lt;br /&gt;* cand simtiti impreuna...muzica si marea?&lt;br /&gt;* cand iti aduce flori si cadouri?&lt;br /&gt;* cand te plimba cu masina?&lt;br /&gt;* cand iti gateste spaghete?&lt;br /&gt;* cand fericita zambesti la glumele lui?&lt;br /&gt;* cand deschizi o sticla de vin?&lt;br /&gt;* cand iti amintesti cand de fericit esti?&lt;br /&gt;* cand te atinge pe picior...si iti zice:"Mi-e dor."?&lt;br /&gt;* cand ai fluturi in stomac?&lt;br /&gt;* cand privirile se intalnesc...si povestesc,fara cuvinte,firesc...?&lt;br /&gt;* cand impartiti o ultima tigara?&lt;br /&gt;* cand dansati pe un nor?&lt;br /&gt;* cand il recitati pe eminescu?&lt;br /&gt;* cand il minti?&lt;br /&gt;* cand il verifici des?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu stim...Tot ce stim despre iubire este ca apare atunci cand te astepti mai putin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Sa fac dragoste cu ploaia...Sa fac dragoste cu vantul...Sa fac dragoste cu cerul...Sa ma-ntind pe tot pamantul...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Il mai iubesti?&lt;br /&gt;-Pe cine?&lt;br /&gt;-El...&lt;br /&gt;-Nu.&lt;br /&gt;-Ce e iubirea?&lt;br /&gt;-Viata.&lt;br /&gt;-Si...marea?&lt;br /&gt;-Nu stiu,poate luna...&lt;br /&gt;-Ma vrei?&lt;br /&gt;-Azi?&lt;br /&gt;-Ma vrei?&lt;br /&gt;-Nu...&lt;br /&gt;-Am fost zmeul tau mereu...&lt;br /&gt;-Trebuie sa zbooor.&lt;br /&gt;-Am cazut de mii de ori....n-ai stiut sa tragi d sfori...&lt;br /&gt;-Ti-am alergat prin vene...&lt;br /&gt;-Saruta-ma.&lt;br /&gt;-Inchide ochii...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-1386652833618593476?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/1386652833618593476/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/games-of-love.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1386652833618593476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/1386652833618593476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/games-of-love.html' title='Games of love'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-9185954669158628402</id><published>2009-06-22T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T10:47:57.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce?</title><content type='html'>Luna pierduta in mare,conduce lumea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Daca te plictisesti cu prezentul,ce ar fi sa incepi sa gandesti la viitor?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cam asa as defini eu ziua de azi,iar melodia specifica ar fi...&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Enrique Iglesias-Hero&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-9185954669158628402?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/9185954669158628402/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/ce.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9185954669158628402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/9185954669158628402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/ce.html' title='Ce?'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3861608808293622405</id><published>2009-06-22T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T07:42:51.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Iubirea,la scoala</title><content type='html'>Chiar si in &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;matematica&lt;/span&gt; "teorema" lui 1+1=2 este recunoascuta,fiind formula iubirii...in stiinta exacta.Nici &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;educatia muzicala&lt;/span&gt; nu se lasa mai prejos si ne incanta cu o poveste de dragoste pe toate stilurile...de la Jazz la R&amp;amp;B,de la Rap la Manele.&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Fizica&lt;/span&gt; ne demonstreaza ca greutatea corpului este indreptata spre plan,dar forta inimii ii cuprinde,iar normala ii ridica la luna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Geografia&lt;/span&gt; ne demonstreaza ca pamantul este rotund astfel incat iubirea il poate inconjura.&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Artele plastice&lt;/span&gt; ne destind manuirea pixului si inimii.&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sportul &lt;/span&gt;este miscarea,in care cutremuri pamantul pentru a ajunge la el.&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Romana&lt;/span&gt; este materia in care descoperi marii poetii si te pierzi intr-o alta lume...plina de iubire.La &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Biologie&lt;/span&gt; inveti unde se afla inima lui...iar la&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; Spaniola&lt;/span&gt;:Te amo!La &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Dansuri &lt;/span&gt;inveti cum sa-i furi inima...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-XW9ndfXI/AAAAAAAAACo/7v0R1IaYCLc/s1600-h/inimioare.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Toate se bucura de fericirea de a fi cu&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; gandul la El...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3861608808293622405?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3861608808293622405/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/iubireala-scoala.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3861608808293622405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3861608808293622405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/iubireala-scoala.html' title='Iubirea,la scoala'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256963705701622093.post-3170195116666170118</id><published>2009-06-22T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T07:20:38.684-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De ce?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;     In viata am aflat ca tot ce conteaza e cum gandesti,dar si de cele mai multe ori cum arati...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;Se spune ca blondele sunt proaste.De ce?Pentru ca sunt frumoase... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;                                       de aici a inceput totul... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;Frumusetea trupului este doar o &lt;em&gt;Slabiciune a gandului...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-QuXv_lrI/AAAAAAAAACg/vUWlbYkTAYA/s1600-h/sexy+girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350154008663135922" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-QuXv_lrI/AAAAAAAAACg/vUWlbYkTAYA/s200/sexy+girl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#674ea7;"&gt;P.S.:Nu sunt blonda...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/256963705701622093-3170195116666170118?l=slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/feeds/3170195116666170118/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/de-ce.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3170195116666170118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/256963705701622093/posts/default/3170195116666170118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slabiciuneagandului.blogspot.com/2009/06/de-ce.html' title='De ce?'/><author><name>Pierduta...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06177904464655607210</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-Eb8ZJv9I/AAAAAAAAABQ/RGWQQPpco0g/S220/9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AjSkiYVn6Y8/Sj-QuXv_lrI/AAAAAAAAACg/vUWlbYkTAYA/s72-c/sexy+girl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
