tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17299632834710556822024-03-05T15:20:39.396-08:00.....cu mine insami(Autobiografie)Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-27216472908137356322014-08-17T04:02:00.002-07:002014-08-17T04:14:20.981-07:00I've lost my love muscleI've lost interest in what people have to offer. I've lost faith they are extraordinary beings!<br />
Now they all seem frightened, ridiculous and so damn average!<br />
The fear of their own mortality freaks them out. They all look like a dear in headlights.<br />
They are living paradoxes: declear they want peace, love and harmony but do exactly the opposite!<br />
Since I started seeing them like this I lost my love for them. My need to please them, take care of them and search for them.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ni4FJjoQKas/U_COhGhOAhI/AAAAAAAAApk/oqXodmHxN-M/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ni4FJjoQKas/U_COhGhOAhI/AAAAAAAAApk/oqXodmHxN-M/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-2008676353432631342014-08-17T03:58:00.002-07:002014-08-18T11:18:33.545-07:00<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPsWGs2g8olfGZGRhekKnFzAm6GcBS6grm40HzB-f1siwYX8Qhyphenhyphen0eQV0vODZTZ8cZBUz6PDgUjYDUeF9ziA0yoB3GywsF2owoOlKh5zwg3H8egWMotGcJaOGOVHvMDPB3wv692Cm1-O-_/s1600/overcoming-fear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPsWGs2g8olfGZGRhekKnFzAm6GcBS6grm40HzB-f1siwYX8Qhyphenhyphen0eQV0vODZTZ8cZBUz6PDgUjYDUeF9ziA0yoB3GywsF2owoOlKh5zwg3H8egWMotGcJaOGOVHvMDPB3wv692Cm1-O-_/s1600/overcoming-fear.jpg" height="320" width="277" /></a>Frica… un sentiment teribil! Ne face sa ne sabotam relatii
care sunt promitatoare. Ne face sa ne amintim de toate datile cand durerea ne-a
facut sa ramanem fara suflare sau doar de datile cand ne blamam pe noi insine
pt ca ne-am permis sa ramanem atat de dezamagiti de propriile vise si planuri
facute in doi.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nu ma intelege gresit! Frica are rolul ei benefic:
motiveaza! De aceea, de exemplu frica de a deveni penibila nu ma va mai lasa sa fac nimic
pentru a reconstrui ce s-a daramat. Si frica ma va motiva sa imi treaca si de
tine, ca de altii! Si imi va iesi, fara indoiala! Vei ajunge si tu unul din
lista celor despre care voi spune: “Mneah! He did not deliver!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Problema e ca ne tot repetam ca avem o varsta si nu mai avem
timp de investit, de pierdut cu o persoana nepotrivita, si o penalizam imediat
ce iese din parametri. O exilam afara din noi in timpi cat mai redusi pentru a
NU PIERDE TIMP!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ok, si castigam timp pentru ce? Pentru ce daca nu pentru a simti,
pentru a cladi relatii, legaturi? La ce folosim tot timpul castigat? La a fii
din nou singuri si safe? La a incepe o relatie noua, iar si iar? A creea noi
sabloane sau sau standarde de aplicat urmatoarelor persoane care musai trebuie
sa treaca CTC-ul?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Era doar asa, o cugetare…<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-77063186102376211652014-08-17T03:55:00.000-07:002014-08-17T04:12:41.642-07:002 the one that got away<br />
Stii...te-as fi putut iubi. Mult! Te-as fi trezit in fiecare dimineata cu un sarut pe ochi si pe nas chicotind de bucurie.<br />
Te-as fi putut strange in brate. Tare! Ca sa simti ca vulnerabilitatea nu poate fi o slabiciune cand esti protejat de bratele mele.<br />
As fi avut grija de tine. Mereu! Nu as fi uitat niciodata ca sunt o femeie iar tu esti barbatul meu.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Ns7bRkCKWRS3IuQrt64rFwxj2SBTEMSqorSI-7QIVdqSQwq2kOp7obe9WoSVeiskOMsIf9A3d2PRaDCddmy9D1MW6O4q418H7Kg1CcyH7oABHD8A5MCbWJungP1n-bQRcsohvdKY_kDp/s1600/funny-love-life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Ns7bRkCKWRS3IuQrt64rFwxj2SBTEMSqorSI-7QIVdqSQwq2kOp7obe9WoSVeiskOMsIf9A3d2PRaDCddmy9D1MW6O4q418H7Kg1CcyH7oABHD8A5MCbWJungP1n-bQRcsohvdKY_kDp/s1600/funny-love-life.jpg" height="140" width="200" /></a>Te-as fi lasat sa zbori. Sus! Pentru ca nu as putea iubi un vultur fara aripi oricum!<br />
Te-as fi iubit nu pentru ca am nevoie de tine ci pentru ca mi-ai fi imbogatit viata. Te-as fi avut alaturi cu mandrie stiind ca nu-mi aparti.<br />
Te-am dorit alaturi ca sa cantam impreuna, sa facem dragoste si sa nu ne lasam unul pe altul sa ne moaram copilul din noi.<br />
Dar tu ai ales sa nu facem toate astea impreuna! Sper ca motivul e ca deja le faci cu altcineva.<br />
<br />Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-51104382486604087142013-11-10T04:05:00.000-08:002013-11-10T04:09:23.225-08:00love is a four letter crime...I stay. I know I shouldn't. I still pray even though it is useless and my faith has left me such a long time ago. I put my right hand on your bear heart and I don't feel the heartbeat. I am thinking you are dead. But then I noticed that the ghost is in fact me. Funny...I reach desperately to have a strong grip on your heart but all I feel is mine aching. My hands are dust and they keep on splashing on your indifferent body. I am air but not for your lungs anymore. I am thoughts but not inside your mind. The only think that makes me think I might be still alive is the pain...this suffocating pain...terrible...unbearable...but still so comfortable as it smells like you.<br />
<br />
I am eager to embrace resting in peace...<img height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL8in3xSzsPza5_FUR69QQ8aBTYuCjBvHv7oFo8Bf4dTgRsKddzuFYKDS4q6BV_8opviRG590Vj-5RFOeQ8osq6n9WcygmcaLzwocdZWE-23Aq5JC0NDgoLgtxQJScwNkkbahQNSLa_4Cl/s400/Dead_Love.jpg" width="400" />Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-11320870914910296082013-11-07T02:58:00.004-08:002013-11-08T04:04:23.440-08:00Vocile din capul meu imi spun ca nu-s nebuna!<h2>
<img height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8441/7847064954_f871a15ef4_z.jpg" width="400" /></h2>
<br />
Am inchis ochii pentru a vedea in mine. Am descoperit galerii infricosatoare si magice deopotriva.<br />
<br />
Noi, oamenii, traim in lumi fantastice, misterioase numite mintile noastre...Gandurile noastre plutesc in eterul dens din capul nostru. Gandurile au lumea lor, familiile lor, vietile lor, se inmultesc unele cu altele...si dau nastere monstrilor care ne bantuie...<br />
<br />
Am invatat an de an, saptamana de saptamana, zi de zi, ceas de ceas si cu fiecare secunda in plus pe masura ce ma scurg inapoi in univers sa imi iubesc monstrii. Am invatat ca si gandurile, ca noi, nu aleg sa se nasca si e nedrept sa le uram doar pentru ca nu le intelegem...<br />
<br />
Spunem lucruri indecente, cum ca ne cunoastem unii pe altii doar pentru ca ne stim de mult. Putini avem insa onoarea si curajul de a le face cunostinta monstrilor nostri cu monstruletii din capul celuilalt si sa ii lasam sa faca mai bine pui intre ei.<br />
<br />
Cred cu putere că doar dragostea ne salvează... si pe noi, si pe demonii nostrii. Dragostea de orice fel, miros, culoare, forma...Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-41872788425471920622013-11-07T02:44:00.001-08:002013-11-08T04:07:39.149-08:00Psychosis<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<h2>
<img height="283" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pl-NWC_gXus/UKeSHpcC3nI/AAAAAAAAAqs/5AS-_Gmd1qU/s400/Butterfly+Dream.JPG" width="400" /></h2>
When life will lack meaning again I will energize myself with the memory of you. Those days I will let myself fall deeply into my favorite psychotic episode. I will feel the smell of fresh grounded coffee and taste your awakening kiss on my lips. The <span style="font-family: inherit;">crispy fresh cold air filling the room will give me the chills that your body used to give me when enrapturing mine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The moments when I will be cold again without you, </span>I will take out the jar where I captured some of our moments. I used to store them for the long winter days. <span style="font-family: inherit;">I will open the lid and let the butterflies fill the room. I will close my eyes and let those fabulous creatures bring you back again. When they will sit on my closed eyelids I will remember how you used to kiss them. The flapping of their wings will bring back your </span>whispers, smoothly<span style="font-family: inherit;"> piercing my eardrum. When they will sit on my naked body I will re-live the hot & cold chills your fingers used to give me.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: start;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll pretend the dream is real and I will remember how you always used to give me </span>exactly<span style="font-family: inherit;"> what I used to crave for. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<br /></div>
<o:p></o:p></div>
Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-35544303609353584892013-09-18T06:19:00.001-07:002013-11-07T03:09:07.435-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJtqPDbSpInSYxH4iUy0Yqbkah9lEqN2esgdo4RdKmL_SSzrNqz3XSQ6eefXaVivHHS_nMhD95H7GgwQ80ABNuWVi2tccxlkGNP8v5FT5JE4ikPg4rZLjzb-waeVwA3ykPYR4rLtuNL0Do/s1600/Untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJtqPDbSpInSYxH4iUy0Yqbkah9lEqN2esgdo4RdKmL_SSzrNqz3XSQ6eefXaVivHHS_nMhD95H7GgwQ80ABNuWVi2tccxlkGNP8v5FT5JE4ikPg4rZLjzb-waeVwA3ykPYR4rLtuNL0Do/s400/Untitled.png" width="400" /></a></div>
I think the problem with non-lasting love is that we define "love" in general by the verb "<i>I own</i>". It starts with I don't own her/him. How can I do to make this happen? So we try to get in touch, be noticed, we act like our best selves so that we trap that person. Slowly we sweep them off their feet until there is no way back and the web is all around our victim.<br />
<br />
But owning is objectifying. They become our accessories that have to please us. They become our little canary that we place into this gorgeous gold cage, and that has no rights but the ones we decide they have. Then we claim it not to depreciate: it should look, act, function the same way as the day we met them and when we projected all those marvelous dreams along their side.<br />
<br />
Most of the times...much to our surprise...this does't work.Then we are either hurt because we lost ...IT or we get bored. And how can we not get bored? Especially in this age of ever rapid changing technology, when our brain is set to ask for immediate, quick fixes? Our loved one gets old, repetitive and so damn predictable. They get broken, downgraded...And isn't it expensive to keep buying another one, and another one in hope we finally get the best model?<br />
<br />
So what if we stop wanting to own them? What if we just lease them on their spear time? What if we let them update on their own and then try their constant improved versions of themselves? What if we stop being afraid of not being interesting enough for them to come back? What if we are both free and not owned by anyone? What is the worst thing that can happen?<br />
<br />
<br />Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-57693210751167413722013-08-23T06:35:00.002-07:002013-11-07T03:13:40.152-08:00And how would you like your pussy, sir?<h2>
</h2>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvEz7X8yVVmU6dZOtMMVWcNE2lZnLonHlSY-N_tlzT-4e0CbVjkIkTbZjHnsqlkig0ejFqazmSQFIanYX2sjI1KHvcZbfbQ_RcWriVGvaI7NkLbROi_XCzh-U-r6Ck7uEuOTK_KhGGHOjC/s1600/blog.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvEz7X8yVVmU6dZOtMMVWcNE2lZnLonHlSY-N_tlzT-4e0CbVjkIkTbZjHnsqlkig0ejFqazmSQFIanYX2sjI1KHvcZbfbQ_RcWriVGvaI7NkLbROi_XCzh-U-r6Ck7uEuOTK_KhGGHOjC/s320/blog.png" width="301" /></a><br />
Men’s favorite dish: pussy.
Nowadays the knowledge makes us wonder though: what’s the best method of
serving it? Raw, boiled, backed, fried? How can you have more out of your
pussy? Well gents, let’s see what’s in the menu.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Ok…so...some men like it raw. Just
plain old classic raw pussy. These men do not think pussy should be something
you should sweat for. After all, pussy is just pussy, right? You just go, pick
a relatively fresh one, serve it and forget about it until you become hungry
again. I mean why put on so much effort for a disposable …thingy…It is highly
recommended to use very fresh meat each time to avoid the danger of sickness due to the multiple requests women start having caused by staying too long around the same man.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Fried pussy….ok….well you are in
town….you pick up a nice, juicy piece of pink delight…you cannot wait to get some
home, unwrap it and eat it nice and quick. The sweet sound of the compliments,
promises and plans make her think of the music her sizzling juices will make
once you get it on. These men measure their manhood on the final result. This
dish usually uses venison and it is best when marinated before cooking. Some
like it a bit spicy, so they quickly put some salt and pepper and cannot wait
to drop it into the hot oil of their hungry desire. Hmmm…sweet, rich and
delicious. That is if you don’t burn it, put too much spice or cook it to
little. They usually serve this more than once, especially because it brings immediate and quick satisfaction. The taste soon becomes boring so
they feel the urge to spice-it a bit or choose another type of venison. In a very
short time all the neediness and the crying makes the taste become bitter.
Must be the rash that men get from too much estrogen!<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Backed pussy…hmmmm…so many recipes….
These men like to oil the entire flesh and thoroughly<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11.199999809265137px; line-height: 11.199999809265137px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span>massage all the ingredients before they start cooking it. The thought of
the slooooooowwww heated pussy makes a man think of all the taste-buds orgies
he can be rewarded with! And he knows this will pay off one way or another.
These men get off by the whole process: being refused a few times, slowly
conquering the woman’s mind inch by inch, all the gifts and subtle whispers they invest. It’s all good. This can be a win-win situation if the damn thing does’t
stick to the pan!!! The effort of getting it off may cause the man to throw it
out with the pan and all.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Boiled pussy. This is somewhat
similar to the backed pussy, but a bit more moist and droopy. Usually this
course is chosen by men with a sensitive stomach, little experience, little to no imagination, men
with serious health or self-esteem problems. This kind of dish may lead to
marriage. Cooked this way, the pussy can be conserved for a long time, but in
time it will become impregnated with a strong “vanilla (sex)” aroma.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So how do you like to eat your
pussy, sir?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<o:p></o:p>Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-60229586810281563702013-06-05T05:55:00.001-07:002013-11-07T03:14:57.153-08:00Different degrees of missing you<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Loneliness overcomes me again. Loneliness
becomes me. Becomes my fuel. Takes over. Drives me. It’s like a constant state of pain
and suffocating. A weakness that drains me and puts me out. My eyes hurt so I keep
them closed. Life becomes too much to bear between my feelings of guilt, my binging
sessions and obsessively listening to suicidal music. The drama queen rules my
kingdom today. Orders sound so loud. They pump fear, lack of self confidence, depression
that rip my insides. This disease is so cruel. My desperate hand is reaching
for life with no results. The thorns of solitude cut into my flesh until pain
makes me feel like throwing up my guts, my bloody organs that used to keep me
alive through you. Disconnected from you my whole being feels like an appendix…
so unuseful. Even the memory of you smells like a perfume named Warmth. Your
name sounds somehow like Hope, Light and Oxygen all together. I start tasting you
from under my nails where I still have your skin ripped while I was becoming
you. The only thing I have left is the cries of my prayers that beg for me to
become an empty vessel again. Hoping the next fillings will be yours.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT451qPgrU-zGAiayyP-d6GxntWTEDLgcpatFAhA7GTrcTeHN6g3EMqfq0O83KMqqa-Pv7SiE6N9MFwBg4WqbHraDPMU4gVmhT8dapVEThzlpXyTQx5YdOgYcy9JnA6C-c6_j6Oc-Da1fc/s1600/Bloody+Heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT451qPgrU-zGAiayyP-d6GxntWTEDLgcpatFAhA7GTrcTeHN6g3EMqfq0O83KMqqa-Pv7SiE6N9MFwBg4WqbHraDPMU4gVmhT8dapVEThzlpXyTQx5YdOgYcy9JnA6C-c6_j6Oc-Da1fc/s320/Bloody+Heart.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-69362925811441504382012-12-06T07:52:00.000-08:002013-11-07T03:15:06.966-08:00Loveing the undead<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0mm 5.4pt 0mm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0mm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
text-indent:10.0mm;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am mourning. I finally let go of love, dreams, excitement.
All is left is a hole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lightness feels
heavy. Silence sounds loud. Life is dead. Tears do not exist in my world. Happy
or sad ones. All I pray is to feel again. I pray God exists. Failure seems
comic instead of tragic since all is futile. I need fibrillation but I guess
I need a heart for that. Flashes of my past life appear and go. My whole life
comes back to me. I guess I must be dying. I do not feel pain. Just shortness
of breath. Surrender is my anesthetic .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Truth is a lye and vice versa. Floating above I become air. I can see
people around. Some laugh some yell. I do not understand why. I am<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>spreading around, being wasted. Invisible.
Impossible. Irreversible. Dry.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I loved a shadow. The ghost of the soul that should have
been alive. A soul that never grew up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
loved the light that should have been your being. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Breath…breath…breathing….. Inspire some life into my lungs.
And smile….Really smile….There is life after pain.<a href="http://www.deviantart.com/download/113661310/Dying_in_your_arms___by_MDesignN.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="273" id="il_fi" src="http://www.deviantart.com/download/113661310/Dying_in_your_arms___by_MDesignN.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="400" /></a></div>
Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-36552050233235417572012-02-28T07:39:00.000-08:002013-11-07T03:15:18.475-08:00"I am not superficial....I am averegely-ficial!!!" (english version)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://images1.cpcache.com/product/128805071v10_150x150_Front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" id="il_fi" src="http://images1.cpcache.com/product/128805071v10_150x150_Front.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="150" /></a> Hmmmm…usually I feel just fine with my average-ficiality …but today I
wonder…Who could I have been if I was something else than a simple
commoner? Guess superficiality is a normal state of things… means
normality, and not because it is most common but because it keeps our
sanity, a certain balance. Talking every day about philosophy and get into
the depths of things is vulgar. Superficiality is a day-to-day thing from
which we need from time to time to break away to an exotic all inclusive
location named "profoundness".
Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-10859135475418864622012-02-28T05:06:00.002-08:002012-02-28T05:22:47.540-08:00“I wouldn't say I'm superficial, just averagely ficial.”<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTX9u36q2_yi9DVdibGwOgupSxFjtITyaW1Jy_Kl7bb647B1dP9YBNZP9eRxLZGMfsxvSqayP-WwotFMXhYmJJaLRtB2mW3axr39E2fvuPOLDTBTedSICOi6k4t35JavQ5KktEM1wD_Qrl/s1600/mirror-mirror-on-the-wall.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 142px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTX9u36q2_yi9DVdibGwOgupSxFjtITyaW1Jy_Kl7bb647B1dP9YBNZP9eRxLZGMfsxvSqayP-WwotFMXhYmJJaLRtB2mW3axr39E2fvuPOLDTBTedSICOi6k4t35JavQ5KktEM1wD_Qrl/s320/mirror-mirror-on-the-wall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714176190443112946" border="0" /></a><span style="text-decoration: underline;">D</span>aca e ceva ce urasc foarte tare e sa fiu lasata cu cuvintele-n gura! E ca si cum ai manca ceva cu pofta si dupa ce ai mestecat n-ai voie nici sa inghiti nici sa scuipi! E oribil! Din acest motiv gasesc ca e tot mai greu sa fii placut pentru cine esti cu adevarat. Nimeni nu vrea de fapt sa te cunoasca. Lumea vrea sa fii o prezenta placuta, sa fii bland cu orgoliul lor. As fi curioasa cati barbati ar fi atrasi de imaginea mea despletita, demachiata in pat dupa o masa copioasa citind si ascultand Metallica? Oare cui i-ar placea o femeie cu ticul nervos de a-si devora proprii obraji, razand zgomotos la propriile glume? <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">Sunt un cizmar fara cizme si o ipocrita ce arunca cu sfatul in dreapta si-n stanga ce are o profunda confuzie legata de propriile dorinte. Oamenii insa persista in a cauta sfaturi la mine. Poate e doar o chestiune de marketing, nu?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">Superficialitatea in opinia mea e o stare naturala a lucrurilor, inseamna normalitate. Si asta nu pentru ca e cea mai raspandita ci din cauza ca iti pastreaza sanatatea mentala, un anume echilibru. A avea discutii filozofice zi de zi si a intra in profunzimea lucrurilor mai tot timpul, a frecventa mereu locatii culturale e o vulgarizare a sublimului. Superficialitatea mi se pare pur si simplu viata cotidiana din care mai vrei din cand in cand sa evadezi zburand spre o locatie exotica all-inclusive ori intr-o aventura noua numita <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">profunzime</i>.</p>Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-28137539367289015172011-04-08T04:06:00.000-07:002011-06-14T04:01:31.239-07:0014.06.2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit1fZR9L0NIT7zflATMh-B5va_SYs0MG81Db3yrJEuqY_eVJyn7c2wZhNuO_5km8Zj7Jzu_cdWVj44zpeekaZmljR7Cw4k9sA29eWhBvb6ja-c_6APCO55Y_rcMkELonY4LY9vBAyJE-Uu/s1600/ILoveMyself.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit1fZR9L0NIT7zflATMh-B5va_SYs0MG81Db3yrJEuqY_eVJyn7c2wZhNuO_5km8Zj7Jzu_cdWVj44zpeekaZmljR7Cw4k9sA29eWhBvb6ja-c_6APCO55Y_rcMkELonY4LY9vBAyJE-Uu/s320/ILoveMyself.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618028509347841698" /></a><br /><br /><div>Mi-as dori sa fiu Miss Univers! Oare cum e viata in pielea unei femei superbe? Unii zic ca e dificil!!! Eu zic ca ... daca esti frumoasa...sigur nu mori de foame NICIODATA!</div><div><br /><div>Un lucru mi-e clar acum: traim fiecare dintre noi o poveste pasionala de dragoste ce dureaza toata viata: cu noi insine!!!<br /><div><br /></div></div></div>Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-29542265779574301682011-02-03T03:16:00.000-08:002011-02-03T03:35:04.251-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5aGS62JMKKC9FokMqLkROgtGvnTOYU1TT_BRtc3HqkrFiUaF_hwkGV1SBtdDRQ10VpIfQBClp8QQY9fvetk2cJ81-mLmSXEh44yP_UHVDudH64Vs_I1DPMvpKc6g_lotxrS-SP9xsIFmz/s1600/Strawberry-Shortcake-bike-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5aGS62JMKKC9FokMqLkROgtGvnTOYU1TT_BRtc3HqkrFiUaF_hwkGV1SBtdDRQ10VpIfQBClp8QQY9fvetk2cJ81-mLmSXEh44yP_UHVDudH64Vs_I1DPMvpKc6g_lotxrS-SP9xsIFmz/s320/Strawberry-Shortcake-bike-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569425246965288706" /></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Am visat un vis frumos: se facea ca sunt din nou eu! Eram din nou proaspat nebuna! Eram din nou invincibila....zmeul zmeilor feminini! Vorbeam iar limba anceasca......vorbeam iar tare....credeam iar in toate balariile pe care le scoteam pe gura....!!! Se facea ca ma trezeam in fiecare dimineata si ma umfla rasul in secunda urmatoare!!! Se facea ca in loc de liniste era muzica peste tot!! ....ca ma imbracam in cele mai ciudatele haine si purtam palarioare hazlii! Se facea ca eram cea mai frumoasa din tara (ei na! acum n-oi fi din lumea intreaga!!!!!). Se facea ca tu ma iubeai asa cum sunt! Se facea ca si eu la fel....<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div>Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-67526472598501785692010-11-11T00:39:00.000-08:002010-11-15T04:53:12.402-08:0015.11.2010<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5r_6FLRYfy-_IyyQgNVuvnsz5yIK1v_6VG6fveW-SomsTJFb3IeJaby0D7sJpYeXwDl7gByS0fYCxzwHAWH3u-hSWbLJOXpMtOmew_J5a1QNqQHNQucmmcJxX5WU0hQ-hUxx7T4Rp2Im1/s1600/poze_notite_10232.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 163px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 120px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539758452135125586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5r_6FLRYfy-_IyyQgNVuvnsz5yIK1v_6VG6fveW-SomsTJFb3IeJaby0D7sJpYeXwDl7gByS0fYCxzwHAWH3u-hSWbLJOXpMtOmew_J5a1QNqQHNQucmmcJxX5WU0hQ-hUxx7T4Rp2Im1/s320/poze_notite_10232.jpg" /></a><br /><div>"Sa te bucuri de orice clipa atunci cand o ai"...Hmmm... Ce inseamna sa traiesti in prezent? Nu inseamna oare sa supraestimezi clipa? De multe ori am avut neplacerea sa ma bucur nespus de flacari de chibrit... De aceea ma tem de esec... Esecul la o varsta nu ti-e iertat ca alta data... Nu mai tine nimic de imaturitate. Acesta e oficial UN ESEC! Dar de ce ma rog frumos? Nu exista dreptul la o imaturitate legata de un lucru pe care nu l-ai mai experimentat? Daca am o varsta si o anumita experienta, asta inseamna ca ma ajuta sa le rezolv pe altele noi, despre care nu am farama de cunoastere? </div><div>Of! Viata asta te fura: te jefuieste, te fura tie insati, te pierzi in ea. Si daca te fura cui ii mai apartii? Ei? Cum poti atunci sa-i apartii vietii cand ea e..."a ta"? Intrebari ce zilele astea nu mi le pot scoate din cap...M-am pierdut din nou...Trebuie sa gasesc un plan de evacuare pentru ca simt revolta...miros razboi! Ma supara toate...in special eu! Unde? Cand? Ce?.... am pierdut? La naiba! As vrea sa am mai multe raspunsuri la mine decat intrebari! Astea le are orice prost!</div>Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-42733747588671197672010-09-14T02:39:00.000-07:002010-11-05T02:29:33.270-07:00Siguranta...bat-o vina! (14.09.2010)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdmtWiPMQfiD6V-hf7y2O7w4LMU4Ak1tewXydLiqJi0_6Icd1QgiuNuVASyJApwLRZbKuTXk9MUHoM73YPrSCdXxjxjdikKzSrAD_Ta63ZfhjAW-67NmvPCnL9wX-pEQvHAdw9H1OywVpF/s1600/ac-de-siguranta.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 208px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 162px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535994088464814994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdmtWiPMQfiD6V-hf7y2O7w4LMU4Ak1tewXydLiqJi0_6Icd1QgiuNuVASyJApwLRZbKuTXk9MUHoM73YPrSCdXxjxjdikKzSrAD_Ta63ZfhjAW-67NmvPCnL9wX-pEQvHAdw9H1OywVpF/s320/ac-de-siguranta.jpg" /></a> Cred ca odata cu varsta vine dorinta de acel sentiment netrebnic de <em>siguranta</em>...Ce poate fi mai plictisitor?...chiar si in masura in care reduc spectrul domeniilor in care am nevoie de acesta blstemata "<em>siguranta</em>"... Odinioara il consideram un blestem...o dovada de lasitate...cu timpul am invatat ca dupa o anumita varsta devine instinct de autoconservare...Deci a ma conserva sau a nu ma conserva? Asta e intrebarea....<br /><div></div>Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-32514966624934108942009-12-11T13:04:00.002-08:002009-12-11T13:25:45.425-08:00Definitii ale momentului 0(10.12.2009)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzabFFGGZ0pTPmywAwmCfM9V3whSvtmBeVroot_qYgpGd3erh4p-Yn3rDVgHr8PeScHUTR3HsVyR39EiWnvLlD0FE8osOcl6wr_pmm9MRz9l6PWAicValCKzhwVFECMk7EPa62riyZFohN/s1600-h/1352744776_7653c26d52.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 109px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzabFFGGZ0pTPmywAwmCfM9V3whSvtmBeVroot_qYgpGd3erh4p-Yn3rDVgHr8PeScHUTR3HsVyR39EiWnvLlD0FE8osOcl6wr_pmm9MRz9l6PWAicValCKzhwVFECMk7EPa62riyZFohN/s320/1352744776_7653c26d52.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414090405744929138" border="0" /></a>Straduinta de originalitate, staruinta-n speranta, forta-n a sta pe firul subtire intins al sanatatii mentale si a nu ma uita in jos.<br />Vise.....unde? Fericire....cand? Implinire......oare? Iubire....ce!??!? Haos total! Puzzle cu piese amestecate din diferite jocuri. Drumuri de urmat...drumURI??? Resemnare?....hmmmm....<br />Amorteala, somn mental: odihna sau cosmar?<br />Noapte adanca: frica sau mister?<br />Noi cautari sau fuga de realitatea greu de infruntat?<br />Sete de "impreuna" sau bucuria independentei?<br />Liniste regasita sau bucuria unei noi provocari?<br />Spontaneitate sau planuri de viitor?<br />Vise ori realitate?<br />Locul meu in viata asta sau drumul meu?<br />Puncte de suspensie.....MDA.....Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-84712643892749870082009-12-07T12:42:00.001-08:002009-12-07T12:52:05.071-08:008.10.2009<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmCUiOuXWn97dxSfNFjy_klv6N8P-k7uEIvZzpGJBQ9Abi6llHdVcIiwuKW4Zm5x1sc6xS0v4rMNqkz9JBxNeB_oowFWkmtbzqb2dpfjKDK7RjnLoukul6GAH3lm3CKX0VaCJWKkavkSf/s1600-h/2719496058_30fd630678.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmCUiOuXWn97dxSfNFjy_klv6N8P-k7uEIvZzpGJBQ9Abi6llHdVcIiwuKW4Zm5x1sc6xS0v4rMNqkz9JBxNeB_oowFWkmtbzqb2dpfjKDK7RjnLoukul6GAH3lm3CKX0VaCJWKkavkSf/s320/2719496058_30fd630678.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412598774511632258" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Un picur, doi picuri de frustrare, trei picuri de frustrare.....PIC! PIC! Mai e mult pana se umple recipientul fiintei mele!??!?!Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-31258787824698157122009-09-28T12:13:00.000-07:002009-12-11T12:53:41.390-08:0028.09.2009<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLeO_nc0w0Fv9I4xqdI80bGSdb5h7JhFe6-VSlHhBUcjXYdn5yupB9r4CDCf93zio7pbqYLfzxGRHSUWmd1_aQD1vII9c3Ab3tumq_o_9uGAFzojhFqm1RJ1M3TEJ18_-GC3HaP_B7Sedn/s1600-h/PL055~Dreaming-of-Objects-Posters.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLeO_nc0w0Fv9I4xqdI80bGSdb5h7JhFe6-VSlHhBUcjXYdn5yupB9r4CDCf93zio7pbqYLfzxGRHSUWmd1_aQD1vII9c3Ab3tumq_o_9uGAFzojhFqm1RJ1M3TEJ18_-GC3HaP_B7Sedn/s320/PL055~Dreaming-of-Objects-Posters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414084209466330306" border="0" /></a>Am iubit o chestie reala sau roadele proprie-mi imaginatii? E oare vreo diferenta intre cele 2? Am iubit oare sincer? Mult? Destul? Des? Frumos? Pentru asta incerc sa gasesc unitati de masura: intensitatea batailor imimii cand era langa mine sau intensitatea durerii cand lipsea?<br /><br />Cu siguranta stiu insa CE iubesc: iubesc stelele ce stralucesc zilnic pana mor. Nu-mi plac astrii ce stralucesc puternic o noapte si atat! Iubesc oamenii extraordinari in cotidianul lor!Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-67802274811599744012009-09-19T02:24:00.000-07:002013-01-07T06:41:59.274-08:00Poltergeist(19.09.2009)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7gWbN4wYEACycM-Pv77xo33GeI9y8UQQR_aDrkIZ4gY5QWTIKGczqQcUpkYW0eXZWAGVtjwuKz-IQ3kKHU-H-GXwKlIfm_8sE_kSzBlKcjzUsbLb6S2JmbaYbslCyHnuMz4efwKjTeH2_/s1600-h/woman_in_black.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383108324395016930" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7gWbN4wYEACycM-Pv77xo33GeI9y8UQQR_aDrkIZ4gY5QWTIKGczqQcUpkYW0eXZWAGVtjwuKz-IQ3kKHU-H-GXwKlIfm_8sE_kSzBlKcjzUsbLb6S2JmbaYbslCyHnuMz4efwKjTeH2_/s320/woman_in_black.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
Sunt bantuita de gandul de a recidiva. Si o fac de fiecare data! <br />
Amintirea ta e un lucru atat de gravat in intreaga mea fiinta incat a inceput sa ma defineasca si nici chiar TIMPUL nu pare a fi in stare sa o stearga. Cateodata neputinta mea in fata acestui adevar incontestabil devine prietenul meu cel mai bun, un sal gros, ce-mi tine cald in zilele de singuratate. Deschid asadar portile imense, greoaie ale cerebralului si intru in firescul visarii halucinante. Acolo esti mai tot timpul TU, combinatia perfecta intre spiritualitate si logica, intre erotic si romantic, intre rob si stapan iar eu ma regasesc ingenunchiata in fata altarului ce te reprezinta. <br />
Sunt perfect capabila sa ignor sfaturile binevoitoare ale celor ce vor sa ma aduca cu picioarele pe Pamant. Stiu foarte bine ce vor sa-mi zica, fara indoiala din cele mai bune intentii. Insa dependenta de TINE ma face, atunci cand am putin timp liber, sa ma refugiez cu doza de interzis si irational, sa mi-o administrez si s-o savurez intr-o perfecta impacare cu persoana mea. Sunt de asemenea constienta de faptul ca e o nebunie si totusi mi-o asum. Si de ce m-as descotorosi de o intalnire asa importanta a vietii mele? Dimpotriva, vreau s-o duc cu mine mereu! Pentru ca atunci, de mult, cand tu n-ai fost atent, am furat o bucatica de TINE ce o port in cutiuta bijuteriilor vietii mele. E comoara mea cea mai de pret, dobandita pana-n momentul de fata!<br />
<br />
Multumesc!Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-70932078026657574012009-09-07T12:46:00.000-07:002013-01-07T06:46:09.900-08:00Simtiri de plush (7.09.2009)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LTTPpZyngczEiAMEx6HtY5bk1hFIujV8suliDH-_6o4g3MnqSrCKym6NmVJ8mzkMTncmDM229Ydju9sgPbmPZTJbh7UjC7SNBrhlC-sua7Nz_U0sF1xRGY0Ef-Tj0HJa5704-vg88TLG/s1600-h/heart-plush-toy_MED.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414318048871333154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LTTPpZyngczEiAMEx6HtY5bk1hFIujV8suliDH-_6o4g3MnqSrCKym6NmVJ8mzkMTncmDM229Ydju9sgPbmPZTJbh7UjC7SNBrhlC-sua7Nz_U0sF1xRGY0Ef-Tj0HJa5704-vg88TLG/s320/heart-plush-toy_MED.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 147px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 125px;" /></a>In dragoste exista intodeauna un campion si un invins! Ne jucam cu noi insine si ne transformam organele in unele de plus. Si ne jucam de-a dragostea: povestea incepe frumos: <span style="font-weight: bold;">1</span>+<span style="font-style: italic;">1=love. </span> Se sorb din priviri si se fascineaza reciproc. Urmeaza ore de dor nebun, momente de incantare, clipe pasionale, nopti nedormite, facturi telefonice incarcate, lucruri vitale trecute pe locul 2, 3, 100 in ordinea prioritatilor cum ar fi: mancat, dormit, job....si alte maruntisuri de genul asta! Se pudreaza apoi povestea cu promisiuni, planuri, calatorii de vis in 2 la supermarketul de la colt ori discutii pana noaptea-n zori despre care e mai norocos in contextul sublimei intalniri. Toata lumea in jur e frumoasa, problemele dispar, zilele sunt consumabile ieftine in povestea ce se scurge intr-un ritm atemporal....<br />
Intr-o buna zi bate cineva neasteptat la usa: cioc!cioc! <span style="font-weight: bold;">1</span> deschide si o vede pe REALITATE in capul usii! O intreaba respectuos ce doreste si pe cine cauta. REALITATEA incepe sa ii reaminteasca lui <span style="font-weight: bold;">1 </span>de puncte importante de pe lista prioritatilor ignorate in tot acest timp. Si asa....povestind, <span style="font-weight: bold;">1</span> incepe sa simta cum nimic nu mai urca dealul...dimpotriva! Inchide usa.....se intoarce catre <span style="font-style: italic;">1 </span>si emite simplu....o pretentie...<span style="font-style: italic;">1</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"> </span>bucuros...primeste ce i se ordona, si nerabdator sa-l satisfaca pe <span style="font-weight: bold;">1 </span>...executa. Dintr-un necunoscut (pana mai ieri) simt al puterii <span style="font-weight: bold;">1 </span>aplica inca o data regula...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPn7ZbemwcFcqF_zwAZLNF0YJRaVWltYXpWsvzsNjJnTXbgFcnV1ZC0Ju_L4T2xmku1J1SjjikfATOQirV9qcrpr-yYuV6wvdLhjlFtTSaPCD9i_uKVV8Ammw2rEsHm-WK2WyaQtxlRJZl/s1600-h/plush-organs-6.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414085695110595378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPn7ZbemwcFcqF_zwAZLNF0YJRaVWltYXpWsvzsNjJnTXbgFcnV1ZC0Ju_L4T2xmku1J1SjjikfATOQirV9qcrpr-yYuV6wvdLhjlFtTSaPCD9i_uKVV8Ammw2rEsHm-WK2WyaQtxlRJZl/s320/plush-organs-6.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 125px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 125px;" /></a>apoi inca o data si inca o data! <span style="font-style: italic;">1 </span>imbatat de amor accepta. Si, dupa cum bine se stie, orice compromis devine repede o regula, exact ca un cancer galopant, se ajunge rapid la o relatie stapan-sclav......mda....si asa vine in scenta celebrul "INCEPUT AL SFARSITULUI": tentative de a remedia situatia, explicatii peste explicatii, dezbateri ale dorintelor fiecaruia, refacerea regulilor, argumente, expunerea viselor care incep sa nu mai coincida. Toatea astea ii obosesc pe <span style="font-weight: bold;">1 </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">si pe </span>1</span> .....si.....apoi.....GATA! Operatia matematica a devenit <span style="font-weight: bold;">1-</span><span style="font-style: italic;">1</span>=0Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-58344556293231811672009-08-04T01:43:00.000-07:002009-12-11T13:31:01.478-08:00Stare mentala de punct si virgula(4.08.2009)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOydyPNpgvaCxTxl98om4-6xTwxXEjIlHHOuOnM8L5JtwpHcWrklfYtBjrM7ipPimNHbYgZWyFa_Bqij37pGfmCmAQUE8Yb4kq7foLAESLayDDMJwRzdhqvO4TR6HFmFFAkMBspt3tLy4n/s1600-h/untitled.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOydyPNpgvaCxTxl98om4-6xTwxXEjIlHHOuOnM8L5JtwpHcWrklfYtBjrM7ipPimNHbYgZWyFa_Bqij37pGfmCmAQUE8Yb4kq7foLAESLayDDMJwRzdhqvO4TR6HFmFFAkMBspt3tLy4n/s320/untitled.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390313494313677762" border="0" /></a>Azi am luat un bat si am trasat un cerc in nisip in jurul meu.<br />M-am pozitionat in centru si stau ghemuita aici.<br />Nu las nici un fir de par macar sa depaseasca delimitarea. M-am saturat de influente contaminatoare din exterior! Sunt toate algocalmine zilnice care acopera un adevar malign!Nu le mai vreau! Sunt doar minciuni!!<br />Azi e ziua in care imi cer iertare pentru gandurile mele pozitive!Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-11464605394654044712009-08-02T01:25:00.000-07:002009-09-19T01:51:11.774-07:00Declaratie de dragoste(2.08.2009)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWax4PQgNSI_tlkBVfHM03Ctro_ByB4bs3kO7YzQXtQ3jGkhlZ-EMOrkxbu_UaEfho8Te0djiKMX4xWn5Wvv98F8-evfH2TI9tmdlzhWXT6OEAfg7nDA__eXV_QoHmOe9BOV-6c1TrrtvM/s1600-h/singuratate_by_BUUUci.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWax4PQgNSI_tlkBVfHM03Ctro_ByB4bs3kO7YzQXtQ3jGkhlZ-EMOrkxbu_UaEfho8Te0djiKMX4xWn5Wvv98F8-evfH2TI9tmdlzhWXT6OEAfg7nDA__eXV_QoHmOe9BOV-6c1TrrtvM/s320/singuratate_by_BUUUci.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383097912351079746" /></a><br />Consider fericirea a fi un ideal, nicidecum o realitate. Consider ca e un cuvant mult prea mare, atribuit unor lucruri supraevaluate. Si chiar de ar exista, nu am fi toti demni de ea si capabil s-o traim. Asadar, suntem mai toti atleti in lupta de a atinge noi recorduri in incercarea de a ajunge cat mai aproape de EA.<br />Eu, personal, imi doresc sa mi se intample lucruri negative (acum aud vocea tatalui meu amintindu-mi de celebra replica “ai grija ce-ti doresti…”). Dar mi se pare ridicol sa iti doresti altfel: e ca si cum ti-ai dori de maine sa nu-ti mai fie foame. In schimb, eu mi le doresc pe cele mai educative. Ma straduiesc sa fiu un bun student si sa-mi invat bine lectiile date de experienta de a trece prin ele.<br />Nu ma preocupa foarte tare experientele pozitive. Stiu ca exista, dar am o relatie destul de ciudata cu ele: e ca iubirea pt un om total nepotrivit, pe care-l iubesti ca pe ochii din cap insa nu te intriga cu nimic. Le consider mici victorii obtinute in lupta spre a atinge idealul. Ca orice bun sportiv de performanta, ma bucur de ele, insa foarte repede incerc sa ma desprind si sa ma gandesc la urmatorul campionat.<br />Asa gandesc si-mi place!<br />Nu m-as da la schimb pentru nimic si in schimbul nimanui!Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-52671095749022140762009-06-29T12:44:00.000-07:002009-07-13T13:49:13.489-07:00Mi-e dor si doare (29.06; 5.07.2009)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2cwFj9ConIhxyTdfJ6bFFeLMT_yce56mqgAFm7eIYy1DtJb7A_OIbPLJMFC24ZHBxmAMTVLe4WbMUKErb1qfPO7OZ1ti0UxmLgqEYdrzfZ1dIy_XQw46EXWWO6pbzj2GMKiwzuGehwBU/s1600-h/child_by_fabiii.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2cwFj9ConIhxyTdfJ6bFFeLMT_yce56mqgAFm7eIYy1DtJb7A_OIbPLJMFC24ZHBxmAMTVLe4WbMUKErb1qfPO7OZ1ti0UxmLgqEYdrzfZ1dIy_XQw46EXWWO6pbzj2GMKiwzuGehwBU/s320/child_by_fabiii.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358033975091649810" border="0" /></a>Imi amintesc perfect varsta la care stiam sigur ca sunt speciala! Eram foarte sigura ca ma diferentiez dramatic de restul oamenilor! Eram un fel de suflet ales al Divinitatii, nimerita pe acest taram al muritorilor de rand cu un scop anume, fara a fi insa in deplina cunostinta de care ar fi acesta.<br />Mi-e dor si acum de sentimentul pe care mi-l dadea aceasta convingere: toti batranii erau bunici ce spun povesti la gura sobei, toti cainii erau acei buni prieteni ai omului ce dau veseli din codite, toti ochii inlacrimati erau doar de fericire sau in cel mai rau caz din cauza unei jucarii ce tocmai s-a stricat.<br />Mi-e dor de tineretea mamei mele si de puterea trupului tatalui meu...ce ma ridica ca pe un fulg si ma facea sa zbor cateva secunde in aer Eram de fiecare data sigura ca ma va prinde in bratele lui lungi si calduroase!<br />Imi lipseste teribil sentimentul ce mi-l provoca atunci ploaia de vara: nu visam decat sa ma las spalata de picurii ei mari si sa ma arunc cu elan in mijlocul celei mai mari baltoace.....ma facea sa izbucnesc in hohote de ras de fiecare data!<br />Acum... batranii sunt suflete aproape stinse, cateii dobitoace... unele chiar flamande sau abandonate iar pe prietenele mele de alta data, baltoacele, le ocolesc ca pe niste pericole ale unui camp minat! Prinsa in linghispirul vietii de zi cu zi, in asa-zisa realitate, am inceput sa-mi induc ideea ca lumea copilariei mele e doar iluzia unei minti inca necoapte, ce crede prea naiv in existenta magiei de basm. Astfel, am inceput sa-mi injectez treptat ratiune si logica. Pe an ce trece, cresc tot mai tare doza, pentru a asurzi durerea taioasa provocata de lipsa acuta de puritate naiva. Episoadele de altruism, visare si joc imi sunt tot mai straine iar eu devin tot mai bucuroasa de ceea ce pare a fi "maturizarea" mea. Toate efectele adverse ale tratamentului, traduse in frustrari si caderi depresive, le acopar cu straturi groase de ignoranta si autocontrol.<br />Ciudat doar ca ... odata cu inceperea procesul de vindecare, imi dau seama ca am exilat in afara mea, odata cu inocenta, ... fericirea!<br />In aceste momente, care preced administrarii dozelor ce "ma reabiliteaza", ma ia cu dor de visele copilariei; acelea in care atunci cand voi creste mare viata imi va deschide interesante drumuri spre aventuri nebanuite. Din acest motiv, ma gandesc sa renunt la tratament, sa ma las pur si simplu sa innebunesc si sa dau iar in mintea copiilor!Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729963283471055682.post-37223277917319544862009-04-20T13:38:00.000-07:002009-07-14T08:36:36.092-07:00.........(20.04.2009)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdELY0VFBBPg-bXyXAoKsUKUFjw6oi1W-5Jgrif0m19SAqxyE8J8uGyU0nEAWsev_vxRSRTUGH1prDWnrEhYXo3aXdWJDvRy-FpYmbd-49Bs3RrD1BZs_a0BnJ_SYZ4gZ6N0xeS61VyIY/s1600-h/negru.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 125px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdELY0VFBBPg-bXyXAoKsUKUFjw6oi1W-5Jgrif0m19SAqxyE8J8uGyU0nEAWsev_vxRSRTUGH1prDWnrEhYXo3aXdWJDvRy-FpYmbd-49Bs3RrD1BZs_a0BnJ_SYZ4gZ6N0xeS61VyIY/s320/negru.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358048723503953842" border="0" /></a>Ce se intampla cand nu mai ai nimic de spus?<br />Nu mai ai nimic de dorit, de visat, de aspirat ori de ascuns?<br />Se opreste oare viata noastra-n loc?<br />Isi ia o pauza? Fiindca mi-e greu sa accept ca ma voi afla aici pentru mult vreme!<br />Si caut drumuri noi.....Doar...euhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11602020023604300148noreply@blogger.com0