<?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-10977945</id><updated>2012-02-08T17:54:29.952+01:00</updated><category term='Fall'/><title type='text'>Wild Hera - A butterfly without wings!</title><subtitle type='html'>I am not always wild!

...LOVE doesn't mean a man and a woman that look in their eyes,

but a woman and a man that walk beside and look straight toghether in the same direction...

...Singura data cand am iubit...eu nu eram acolo...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>98</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-7158945668837722381</id><published>2010-06-18T10:21:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T12:45:16.519+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Stiu oare sa accept fericirea?</title><content type='html'>imi dau seama in fiecare zi ca ma aflu in fata fericirii si nu stiu sa ma comport, nu stiu cum sa reactionez, sunt stangace ca un copil care abia invata sa mearga, ma fastacesc, ma pierd, rosesc si gresesc...NU STIU sa fiu fericita! nu stiu sa accept si sa apreciez cuvintele frumoase de iubire spuse de barbatul de langa mine, nu stiu sa ma bucur asa cum ar trebui de atentia lui,de zambetul, de mangaierile, de cadoul pe care mi-l ofera in fiecare zi, cadoul numit "fericire"...IUBIREA si FERICIREA la care am visat mereu m-au gasit nepregatita.Dar oare voi fi vreodata pregatita? Am scris mereu despre EL, amantul perfect, iubitul perfect al imaginatiiei mele si i-am facut promisiuni si juraminte, si l-am iubit pana la epuizare, pana la lacrimi! acum este prezent in viata mea si ma gasesc incapabila, si gasesc scuze, si las ca fiecare problema de orice alta natura sa afecteze relatia noastra...ma pierd, ma revolt in neputinta mea, si sufar!&lt;br /&gt;De cand suntem impreuna am incetat sa mai scriu,ca si cum nu stiam sa scriu decat despre suferinta,lacrimi,sa ma plang si sa-mi plang de mila, ca si cum de teama de a scrie ca sunt fericita totul va disparea, ca si cum ar fi un vis frumos din care am sa ma trezesc atunci cand il voi impartasi cu lumea inconjuratoare, ca si cum atunci cand voi recunoaste ca sunt fericita, Ea ar putea disparea...si nu-mi dau seama ca fericirea noastra face parte din lumea inconjuratoare, caci nu ne ascundem, ca ne tinem de mana cu zambete largi, ca suntem fericiti unul langa altul...Sper doar sa nu mai gasesc scuze, sa inventez suferinte,sa ma chiunui din nou, doar pentru ca nu stiu sa fiu si fericita, ca nu am ramas repetenta la acest curs minunat al vietii...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-7158945668837722381?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/7158945668837722381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=7158945668837722381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7158945668837722381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7158945668837722381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/06/stiu-oare-sa-accept-fericirea.html' title='Stiu oare sa accept fericirea?'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-5260721812915785600</id><published>2010-05-14T14:36:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T16:36:44.046+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Il bacio by Hayez</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S-1Etdhxe8I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/kz1RnW9RZR0/s1600/francesco-hayez-il-bacio-33297.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S-1Etdhxe8I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/kz1RnW9RZR0/s320/francesco-hayez-il-bacio-33297.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471104670136105922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Il bacio (The Kiss) is an 1859 painting by the Italian artist Francesco Hayez.&lt;br /&gt;The painting represents a couple set ideally in the middle age, embraced while they kiss each other. It is one of most passionate and intense representation of a kiss ever in the history of western art. The girl leans backwards, while the man bends his left leg as to support her movements, while contemporarily putting a foot on the step next to him, so that he could run away any moment. The couple, tough being at the center of the painting, is not recognizable, as Hayez wanted the action of the kissing to be at the center of the composition. In the left part of the canvas shadowy forms lurk in the corner so to give an impression of conspiracy and danger."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ieri seara iesind tarziu de la serviciu si indreptandu-ma spre casa, pe drumul spre metrou am gasit pe jos,cazut poate dintr-o carte, un semn de carte deosebit. Avea reprezentat pe una dintre fatete acasta pictura minunata. Sa fie un semn? ca nu ar trebui sa-mi pierd inca speranta,care da semne de oboseala,ca voi intalni si eu marea iubire? Ca am sa fiu din nou fericita,prinsa in bratele iubitului meu si daruindu-mi un sarut care sa ma faca sa uit de toate clipele singuratatii? sau este doar norocul unei frumoase intamplari, avand in vedere ca nu aveam un semn de carte pentru cartea pe care o citesc acum!?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-5260721812915785600?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/5260721812915785600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=5260721812915785600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5260721812915785600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5260721812915785600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/05/il-bacio-by-hayez.html' title='Il bacio by Hayez'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S-1Etdhxe8I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/kz1RnW9RZR0/s72-c/francesco-hayez-il-bacio-33297.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-5691151118832772335</id><published>2010-04-19T19:01:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T19:46:19.372+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Si eu te iubesc pe tine, draga mosului!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S8yUuI_Fi8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/41_fjSQe4_o/s1600/batran.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S8yUuI_Fi8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/41_fjSQe4_o/s320/batran.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461903968500550594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cheregi Marius: Cand te desparti din vina ta, încerci o vreme sa te lupti cu&lt;br /&gt;ireversibilul, îti dai seama ca n-are sens, te lamentezi de forma si&lt;br /&gt;renunti. Cand te desparti din vina celuilalt, ai nevoie de o perioada de&lt;br /&gt;timp ca sa întelegi ce s-a întamplat. Iei povestea de la capat, pas cu&lt;br /&gt;pas si te chinui sa pricepi ce n-a fost bine si unde ar fi trebuit ca&lt;br /&gt;lucrurile sa apuce pe alt drum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La fel se întampla si atunci cand te desparti de tara ta. Dezamagit,&lt;br /&gt;înselat, manios, îndurerat. Nu ti-e usor s-o lasi. Tara si mama nu ti le&lt;br /&gt;alegi. Te asezi pe celalalt mal al lumii si cauti raspunsul: ce s-a&lt;br /&gt;întamplat cu tara mea de-am fost nevoit s-o parasesc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romaniei i-a disparut rostul. E o tara fara rost, în orice sens vreti&lt;br /&gt;voi. O tara cu oameni fara rost, cu orase fara rost, cu drumuri fara&lt;br /&gt;rost, cu bani, muzica, masini si toale fara rost, cu relatii si discutii&lt;br /&gt;fara rost, cu minciuni si înselatorii care nu duc nicaieri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exista trei mari surse de rost pe lumea asta mare: familia, pamantul si&lt;br /&gt;credinta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Batranii. Romania îi batjocoreste cu sadism de 20 de ani. Îi tine în&lt;br /&gt;foame si în frig. Sunt umiliti, bruscati de functionari, uitati de copii,&lt;br /&gt;calcati de masini pe trecerea de pietoni. Sunt scosi la vot, ca vitele,&lt;br /&gt;momiti cu un kil de ulei sau de malai de care, dinadins, au fost privati&lt;br /&gt;prin pensii de rahat. Vite slabe, flamande si batute, asta au ajuns&lt;br /&gt;batranii nostri. Caini tinuti afara iarna, fara macar o mana de paie sub&lt;br /&gt;ciolane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar, ce e cel mai grav, sunt nefolositi. O fonoteca vie de experienta si&lt;br /&gt;întelepciune a unei generatii care a trait atatea grozavii e stearsa de&lt;br /&gt;pe banda, ca sa tragem manele peste. Fara batrani nu exista familie. Fara&lt;br /&gt;batrani nu exista viitor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pamantul. Care pamant? Cine mai e legat de pamant în tara aia? Cine-l mai&lt;br /&gt;are si cine mai poate rodi ceva din el? Majestatea Sa Regele Thailandei&lt;br /&gt;sustine un program care se intituleaza "Sufficiency Economy", prin care&lt;br /&gt;oamenii sunt încurajati sa creasca pe langa case tot ce le trebuie: un&lt;br /&gt;fruct, o leguma, o gaina, un purcel. Foarte inteligent. Daca se întampla&lt;br /&gt;vreo criza globala de alimente, thailandezii vor supravietui fara&lt;br /&gt;ajutoare de la tarile "prietene".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La noi chestia asta se numeste "agricultura de subzistenta" si lui tanti&lt;br /&gt;Europa nu-i place. Tanti Europa vrea ca taranii sa-si cumpere rosiile si&lt;br /&gt;soriciul de la hypermarketuri frantuzesti si germane, ca de-aia avem UE.&lt;br /&gt;Cantatul cocosilor dimineata, latratul vesel al lui Grivei, grohaitul lui&lt;br /&gt;Ghita pana de Ignat, corcodusele furate de la vecini si iazul cu salcii&lt;br /&gt;si broaste sunt imagini pe care castratii de la Bruxelles nu le-au trait,&lt;br /&gt;nu le pot întelege si, prin urmare, le califica drept niste arhaisme&lt;br /&gt;barbare. Sa dispara!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Din betivii, lenesii si nebunii satului se trag astia care ne conduc&lt;br /&gt;acum. Neam de neamul lor n-a avut pamant, ca nu erau în stare sa-l&lt;br /&gt;munceasca. Nu stiu ce înseamna pamantul, cata liniste si cata putere îti&lt;br /&gt;da, ce povesti îti spune si cat sens aduce fiecarei dimineti si fiecarei&lt;br /&gt;seri. I-au urat întotdeauna pe cei care se trezeau la 5 dimineata si&lt;br /&gt;plecau la camp cu ciorba în sufertas. Pe toti gangavii si pe toti&lt;br /&gt;puturosii astia i-au facut comunistii primari, secretari de partid, sefi&lt;br /&gt;de puscarii sau de camine culturale. Pe toti astia, care au neamul&lt;br /&gt;îngropat la marginea cimitirului, de mila, de sila, crestineste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Credinta. O mai poarta doar batranii si taranii, cati mai sunt, cat mai&lt;br /&gt;sunt. Un strai vechi, cusut cu fir de aur, un strai vechi, greu de&lt;br /&gt;îmbracat, greu de dat jos, care trebuie împaturit într-un fel anume si&lt;br /&gt;pus la loc în lada de zestre împreuna cu busuioc, smirna si flori de&lt;br /&gt;camp. Pus bine, ca poate îl va mai purta cineva. Cand or sa moara oamenii&lt;br /&gt;astia, o sa-l ia cu ei la cer pe Dumnezeu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avem, în schimb, o varianta moderna de credinta, cu fermoar si arici,&lt;br /&gt;prin care ti se vad si tatele si portofelul burdusit. Se poarta la nunti,&lt;br /&gt;botezuri si înmormantari, la alegeri, la inundatii, la sfintiri de sedii&lt;br /&gt;si aghesmuiri de masini luxoase, la pomenirea eroilor Revolutiei. Se&lt;br /&gt;accesorizeaza cu cruci facute în graba si cu un "Tatal nostru" spus pe&lt;br /&gt;jumatate, ca trebuie sa raspunzi la mobil. Scuze, domnu parinte, e&lt;br /&gt;urgent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fugim de ceva ca sa ajungem nicaieri. Ne vindem pamantul sa faca astia&lt;br /&gt;depozite si vile de neam prost pe el. Ne sunam bunicii doar de ziua lor,&lt;br /&gt;daca au mai prins-o. Bisericile se înmultesc, credinciosii se&lt;br /&gt;împutineaza, sfintii de pe pereti se gandesc serios sa aplice pentru viza&lt;br /&gt;de Canada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fetele noastre se prostitueaza pana gasesc un italian batran si cu bani,&lt;br /&gt;cu care se marita. Baietii nostri fura bancomate, joaca la pokere si beau&lt;br /&gt;de sting pentru ca stiu de la televizor ca fetele noastre vor bani,&lt;br /&gt;altfel se prostitueaza pana gasesc un italian batran cu care se marita.&lt;br /&gt;Parintii nostri pleaca sa culeaga capsuni si sa-i spele la cur pe&lt;br /&gt;vestici. Iar noi facem infarct si cancer pentru multinationalele lor,&lt;br /&gt;conduse de securistii nostri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suna-ti bunicii, pune o samanta într-un ghiveci si aprinde o lumanare&lt;br /&gt;pentru vii si pentru morti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa traiesti"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trebuia sa primesc acest e-mail de la o colega de birou ca sa-mi reamintesc in frenezia mea de munca,de viata privata,de lacrimi,de cautare a sufletului pereche in fiecare zi ca mai exista si acele minunate fiinte dragi sufletului meu: BUNICII (carora eu le spun mamaie si tataie)!&lt;br /&gt;Si la o ora tarzie,cand ar fi trebui sa fiu demult acasa si nu la birou am deschis acest e-mail si l-am citit atenta sa nu-mi scape niciun detaliu,iar la sfarsit eram atat de rusinata si vinovata incat am pus mana pe telefon si i-am sunat.Bunicii mei dragi,fericirea copilariei mele...mi-a raspuns bunica care la auzul vocii mele a devenit cea mai fericita persoana din lume,am simtit in glasul ei toata iubirea pe care as putea sa o cer vreodata,si m-am simtit din nou copil,iar sufletul meu a fost fericit pentru cateva minute...si am ascultat-o atenta si cuminte,ca un copil,cum imi povestea despre batranetile lor,despre sanatatea subreda si despre cat este de norocoasa ca-l are pe bunicul...si mi-a curs incet o lacrima.Inainte sa mi-l dea pe bunicul la telefon nu am uitat insa sa-i spun cat de mult o iubesc,ca sa nu uite niciodata,desi mi-a raspuns ca stie si ca-i este dor de mine! Apoi am auzit vocea minunata a lui tataie,un om pe care l-am admirat toata viata,un om drept si bun,un barbat mandru de munca lui care greu isi exprima sentimentele si care se rusineaza si acum cand il sarut cu dragoste de nepoata pe obraji,si in ochii caruia vad atata fericire cand il strang puternic in brate. A facut doua trei glume in modul lui caracteristic despre moarte,despre viata,...despre batranete,ne-a facut sa radem (pe mamaie o auzeam razand in fundal),m-a intrebat ingrijorat ce mai fac,mi-a spus sa am grija de mine pentru ca sunt departe printre straini,mi-a spus ca nu ma mai tine la telefon ca platesc mult(de parca dragostea ar avea pret) si a incheiat cu o alta gluma inainte sa inchid. I-am spus si lui la finalul conversatiei ca-l iubesc mult de tot,ca sa nu uite,si mi-a raspuns asa cum numai el stie sa o faca: "Si eu te iubesc pe tine draga mosului!La revedere dragostea mea!sa fii sanatoasa si multumesc ca ne-ai sunat"(ca si cum a-mi aminti de ei,a-i suna...pentru timpul meu ar trebui sa-mi multumeasca...ei care m-au invatat ce este respectul si carora ar trebui sa le multumesc eu,sarutandu-le mainile in semn de recunostinta).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-5691151118832772335?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/5691151118832772335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=5691151118832772335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5691151118832772335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5691151118832772335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/04/si-eu-te-iubesc-pe-tine-draga-mosului.html' title='Si eu te iubesc pe tine, draga mosului!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S8yUuI_Fi8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/41_fjSQe4_o/s72-c/batran.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-9024391312877026602</id><published>2010-04-15T18:30:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T12:46:42.209+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Se cauta un vinovat?</title><content type='html'>ajung sa ma intreb daca vinovata pentru trecerile mele bruste de la o stare sufleteasca la alta este primavara sau pur si simplu incep sa ma comport ca o persoana care nu mai judeca normal!  Spun asta deoarece ma gasesc tot mai des in situatii in care incep sa plang fara sa ma mai opresc, de parca lumea ar inceta sa mai existe, ca apoi sa am remuscari pentru ca am plans si sa trec la o stare de suprema fericire ca si cum as fi inteles sensul tuturor lucrurilor, ca si cum nimeni si nimic nu m-ar mai putea face sa sufar!...ufff&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-9024391312877026602?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/9024391312877026602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=9024391312877026602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/9024391312877026602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/9024391312877026602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/04/se-cauta-un-vinovat.html' title='Se cauta un vinovat?'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-7273506064839118401</id><published>2010-04-11T23:03:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T23:26:51.055+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Si totusi ce mirare ca esti,ce intamplare ca sunt!</title><content type='html'>Oare as vedea lumea cu alti ochi daca ai fii langa mine in carne si oase?daca ai cobori din imaginatia mea si am strabate drumuri cunoscute si necunoscute impreuna?fericiti ca intr-un dans spre si dinspre Centrul Pamantului spre centrul lumii noastre?am fii mai buni impreuna?mai dornici de viata?am construi viitorul nostru ca si cum toata fericirea si intelepciunea ar fi inauntrul nostru?l-am descoperi oare pe Dumnezeu intr-un alt mod?ne-am ruga oare in fiecare seara impreuna la Dumnezeul nostru si am multumi pentru ca ne putem tine de mana cu atata dragoste?ar avea oare mancarea un alt gust si culorile ar fi oare mai aprinse?...poate ca da...nu stiu sa raspund la aceste intrebari,dar te pastrez in inima mea,ca si cum tu ai fii mereu acolo,si stiu ca intr-o zi ai sa vii sa-mi arati lumea cu alti ochi...prin ochii tai,prin ochii nostrii!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Du-mă, fericire, în sus, si izbeste-mi&lt;br /&gt;timpla de stele, până când&lt;br /&gt;lumea mea prelunga si în nesfirsire&lt;br /&gt;se face coloana sau altceva&lt;br /&gt;mult mai inalt si mult mai curând.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce bine ca esti, ce mirare ca sunt!&lt;br /&gt;Doua cântece diferite, lovindu-se amestecindu-se,&lt;br /&gt;doua culori ce nu s-au văzut niciodata,&lt;br /&gt;una foarte de jos, intoarsa spre pământ,&lt;br /&gt;una foarte de sus, aproape rupta&lt;br /&gt;în infrigurata, neasemuita lupta&lt;br /&gt;a minunii ca esti, a-ntimplariï ca sunt" Nicu Alifantis&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-7273506064839118401?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/7273506064839118401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=7273506064839118401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7273506064839118401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7273506064839118401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/04/si-totusi-ce-mirare-ca-estice.html' title='Si totusi ce mirare ca esti,ce intamplare ca sunt!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-6900351594326202644</id><published>2010-04-08T15:39:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T18:39:13.906+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Vremea lalelelor!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S73err0A38I/AAAAAAAAAJg/tfQmzEjMl8g/s1600/lalele.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 295px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S73err0A38I/AAAAAAAAAJg/tfQmzEjMl8g/s320/lalele.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457763165519536066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cat de minunata este vremea lalelelor!iubesc aceste flori pentru ca sunt fragile,pline de culoare,delicate,pline de viata si de lumina...mi-as dori sa fiu o lalea,sa fiu daruita din dragoste si sa fiu primita cu dragoste,sa fiu tinuta in mainile unei femei minunate cu suflet mare,sa ma hranesc cu razele soarelui,cu multa apa si cu dragostea care ar mai putea exista in cel mai ascuns colt al inimi lumii!&lt;br /&gt;As fi o lalea rosie ca sa traiesc cu pasiune,sa isc dorinta de viata,de bucurie...si apoi mi-as dori sa fiu o lalea galbena plina de gelozie in mijlocul unui camp de lalele rosii...iar mai apoi mi-as dori sa fiu o lalea alba,pura, ca o rochie de mireasa in mijlocul unui mare buchet de lalele galbene...dar poate ca cel mai mult mi-as dori sa fiu o lalea violet, pentru ca violetul este o culoare a masurii,construita din rosu si albastru in proportii identice,din luciditate si actiune cugetata,echilibrul dintre pamant si cer,simturi si spirit,patima si intelepciune.Pentru ca violetul este opusul verdelui,iar eu intr-o primavara vreau sa fiu trecerea autumnala de la viata la moarte,vreau sa fiu o taina,un mister al reincarnarii,al transformarii...intr-o oaza de speranta!&lt;br /&gt;Pe monumentele simbolice ale Evului Mediu,Isus Hristos poarta un vesmant violet in timpul patimilor,adica atunci cand si-a asumat deplin incarnarea,cand,in momentul implinirii sacrificiului,uneste total in El Omul,fiu al pamantului,pe care il va rescumpara cu Duhul ceresc,nemuritor,in care se va intoarce.&lt;br /&gt;Pentru ca violetul este culoarea supunerii si ascultarii...iar eu ca o lalea timida vreau sa ma supun frumusetii primaverii si bucuriei,dragostei si sperantei!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-6900351594326202644?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/6900351594326202644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=6900351594326202644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6900351594326202644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6900351594326202644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/04/vremea-lalelelor.html' title='Vremea lalelelor!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S73err0A38I/AAAAAAAAAJg/tfQmzEjMl8g/s72-c/lalele.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-1991778916604084699</id><published>2010-03-31T15:54:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T18:17:16.019+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Un scenariu!</title><content type='html'>Alice Nastase scria:&lt;br /&gt;"Tot mai multi oamenii nu-si mai respecta cuvantul, dar o fac sub pretexte dintre cele mai diverse. Eu urmaresc cu atentie reactiile mele si ale celor din jur, incercand sa inteleg de ce, uneori, e mai simplu sa infofolesti un adevar intr-o mie de scuze decat sa faci ce ai promis...Insa eu cred ca oamenii care izbutesc in viata sunt cei care se tin de cuvant. Vad la cei buni si eficienti ca nu-si iau vorba inapoi niciodata sau, atunci cand o fac, pentru ca nu intotdeauna poti realiza exact ce ti-ai propus, anunta din timp si restabilesc termenii unei noi promisiuni. Iar eu ma educ, in fiecare zi, sa invat sa spun Nu inainte de-a promite ceva ce voi dori apoi sa nu fi planuit niciodata in viata. Si sa devin mai atenta cu propriul meu cuvant, mai mandra de el, mai nobila in felul in care il folosesc si il daruiesc. Pentru ca e tot ce am mai de pret" si de aici...&lt;br /&gt;Ma intreb oare cat vor mai folosi barbatii ca si vesnica scuza atunci cand nu vor sa spuna adevarul celebra replica "stii am nevoie de timp pentru ceea ce se intampla acum intre noi,sunt putin confuz deoarece am discutat si m-am revazut cu fosta mea prietena care ma vrea inapoi in viata ei"?? Cat vor mai continua sa nu-si respecte cuvantul si promisiunile facute la inceput atunci cand incercau sa te aduca in patul lor,cum ca sunt persoana cea mai potrivita,ca au suferit,ca ei sunt diferiti de toti ceilalti pe care i-ai avut inaintea lor? Cand vor deveni suficient de responsabili incat sa spuna adevarul?&lt;br /&gt;Am ajuns sa-i admir (daca poate exista admiratie in asta) pe barbatii care te intreaba "verde-n fata" daca nu vrei sa te culci cu ei pentru ca momentan nu vor altceva, ca nu vor obligatii sau dureri de cap,ca vor doar o noapte sau doua dupa care sa sa simta bine si sa nu-si mai aminteasca nimic altceva,ca nu vor sa-si aminteasca nici macar numele tau ci sa ramai doar o "tipa buna" in povestirile lor la o bere in fata amicilor.Atunci in fata acestei intrebari poti reactiona onesta,vezi realitatea si poti decide daca accepti sau nu varianta propusa de el.Te poti infuria si reactiona ca o fiara sau poti accepta linistita propunerea pentru ca si tu ai nevoie de momente de descarcare. Nu te poti plange si nici suferi de situatie dupa acceptul tau, pentru ca ai stiut de la bun inceput unde vor duce strazile,care va fi finalul. Este ca un film pe care il vezi doar pentru frumusetea actorului si a scenelor pentru ca o prietena ti l-a povestit deja.&lt;br /&gt;Am ajuns sa-i urasc pe cei care folosesc toate tertipurile existente,inventate si reinventate pentru a te aduce in patul lor.Cand te fac sa crezi ca ar putea face parte din vaiat ta,ca ei sunt cei care iti vor restabili increderea in partea masculina,ca sunt blanzi,buni si diferiti de predecesorii lor care ti-au sfasiat inima,ca pot sterge cu un zambet,un buchet de flori si o fraza citita prin cine stie ce revista masculina la rubrica "Cum sa cuceresti o femeie" sau auzita prin cine stie ce film vazut din obligatie cu alta,urmele grele ale trecutului. Nu mai vreau scenarii de film ieftine in viata mea! pentru asta inchiriez un DVD la finalul caruia pot plange linistita doar pentru ca am un suflet sensibil si nu pentru ca cineva s-a gandit sa-mi ruineze echilibrul,sentimentele,viata...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-1991778916604084699?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/1991778916604084699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=1991778916604084699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/1991778916604084699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/1991778916604084699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/03/un-scenariu.html' title='Un scenariu!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-9048552173637454142</id><published>2010-03-31T10:33:00.011+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T18:42:03.845+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Viata nu este un joc pe computer...</title><content type='html'>Astazi dimineata am facut tot ritualul de dupa trezire,m-am impodobit cu ultimele detalii,adica bijuteriile,si m-am indreptat cu sufletul ranit de ultimul mesaj primit pe telefonul mobil, spre serviciu. Soarele straluceste puternic ca intr-o zi minunata de vara, desi afara inca este frig dupa ploaia rece de ieri,si ar trebui sa ma bucur,sa fiu fericita. Dar nu sunt! Nu-mi amintesc cum am ajuns la serviciu,si nici daca pe drum mi-a scapat vreo lacrima in coltul ochilor sau s-a rostogolit direct pe obraji pana in suflet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Incercat-am sa inteleg de unde vin lacrimile.Si m-am oprit la sfinti.Sa fie ei responsabili de stralucirea lor amara?Cine ar sti?Se pare insa ca lacrimile sint urmele lor.Nu prin sfinti au intrat ele in lume;dar fara ei nu stiam ca plangem din regretul paradisului.As vrea sa vad o singura lacrima inghitita de pamint...Toate apuca,pe cai necunoscute noua,in sus.Numai durerea precede lacrimile.Sfintii n-au facut altceva decit sa le reabiliteze." Emil Cioran - Lacrimi si sfinti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si ca un semn am uitat ceasul acasa!vesnicul meu prieten si dusman,instrumentul de masura al nelinistilor mele interioare,a chinurilor permanente. Daca imi lipseste?probabil...obisunita este grea,este ca atunci cand te inveti cu raul si-l astepti sa se intample,il stii acolo iar lipsa lui te dezorienteaza,pentru ca nu stii daca ai sa fii fericit,daca ai sa ai nevoie...si pentru prima data la simpla intrebare "Ma scuzati mi-ati putea spune cat este ora?" as da un raspuns deziluzionant pentru cel care intreaba "Nu stiu,nu am ceas". De obicei renunt la el in mod intentionat atunci cand plec in vacanta,cand nu vreau sa ma preseze,cand nu vreau sa-l stiu prezent in viata mea,cand sunt fericita chiar daca sunt singura, cand vreau sa cred ca asa nu trece sau trece mai incet,pentru a putea prelungi beatitudinea,ca atunci cand sarutandu-l pe cel iubit se opreste si nu mai ticaie suparator Tic,Tac,tic,tac. Dar astazi odata cu tristetea mea l-am uitat pur si simplu,nu mi-am amintit de el...dar stiu ca din pacate el isi aminteste de mine chiar daca l-am uitat pe etajera din baie...si ca sa privesc cruda realitate,recunosc:am uitat instrumentul de masura,nu si de EL...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unii nu au invatat inca ca viata nu este un joc pe computer,nu poti pune "pauza",face "stop" si apoi sa reiei jocul de la ultimul "Save" pe care l-ai facut, ca si cum nimic nu s-ar fi intamplat, ca si cum in toata perioada care a trecut timpul a incremenit. Si ma intreb daca vor intelege vreodata ca nu au niciun drept sa se joace cu vietile altora...ca se pot juca cu ale lor dar fara sa-i raneasca pe cei din jur!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-9048552173637454142?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/9048552173637454142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=9048552173637454142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/9048552173637454142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/9048552173637454142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/03/viata-nu-este-un-joc-pe-computer.html' title='Viata nu este un joc pe computer...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-6534366511196613858</id><published>2010-03-30T12:14:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T15:00:31.060+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A story...about something</title><content type='html'>Ma agat mereu de cate o persoana pe care vreau sa o fac fericita si sper cu toate fortele mele ca va reusi sa ma faca si ea fericita,sa ma iubeasca,sa ma adore,sa se comporte cu mine asa cum vad in jurul meu la cunostinte,sau poate cum cei care fac filme pun pe ecrane povesti fascinante de dragoste...din pacate de fiecare data povestile mele se termina trist,mult prea repede pentru a-mi hrani sufletul lipsit de fericire sau mult prea tarziu cand sufar ca si cum lumea ar inceta sa mai existe. Daca ar trebui sa definesc acest prea devreme sau prea tarziu stiu ca nu as fi capabila,pentru ca lupta mea continua cu timpul ma face din ce in ce mai irationala.&lt;br /&gt;Privesc cu ochii scosi din orbite si cu o speranta care ma ucide in interior,telefonul mobil pentru a descoperi un ultim mesaj,o ultima farama de fericire...stau si cersesc un semn de la celalalt capat cu speranta ratacita ca cineva se gandeste inca la mine...ma lupt cu toate fortele mele launtrice pentru a invinge aceasta dorinta de face din nou eu primul pas,ma lupt cu ultimul strop de orgoliu,de mandrie,de vanitate...dar oare nu sunt toate acestea cele care ne ucid,care ne fac sa nu mai fim oameni,sa comitem pacate imense???care ne fac sa uitam cum este sa-ti ceri iertare?...M-am obisnuit sa privesc dezamagirile ca pe o normalitate şi puţinele, iluzoriile clipe fericite, ca pe nişte miracole.&lt;br /&gt;Am ajuns sa cred ca norocul ma ocoleşte cu o constanţă tenace şi ca fiecare zi apusă mai imi smulge câte o bucată de suflet.Si, cu o inimă beteagă, dar pulsând uneori absurd a speranţă, sunt forţata să privesc spre înainte, să mearg alături de cei răsfăţaţi de soartă, să-mi târasc neputinţa şi disperarea laolaltă cu fericirile, împlinirile şi veselia, uneori crudă, a celor din jur. Nimic pe lume nu e mai frustrant şi mai dureros decât să te chirceşti sub întrebarea “De ce nu mă iubeşte?”.Dar răspunsul nici nu mai contează, pentru că toată durerea lumii s-a adunat, întreagă, într-o sfâşietoare şi obsesivă întrebare....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-6534366511196613858?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/6534366511196613858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=6534366511196613858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6534366511196613858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6534366511196613858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/03/storyabout-something.html' title='A story...about something'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-2280299176332559024</id><published>2010-03-29T00:13:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T00:22:44.676+02:00</updated><title type='text'>In ziua de Florii...</title><content type='html'>m-am gatit ca de mare Sarbatoare,asa ca atunci cand eram copil si bunica ne imbraca cu cele mai frumoase haine...si am placat la biserica.Cu sufletul incercat de indoieli,de intrebari fara raspuns,de lucruri marunte mi-am purtat pasii grabiti spre slujba de Florii...am gasit biserica romaneasca din M.cu usile larg deschisa si plina de oameni.Ar fi trebuit sa stau afara caci loc inauntru nu mai era,dar imi simteam sufletul prea incarcat ca sa nu intru in casa Domnului,asa ca m-am strecurat usor printre oameni si am intrat sa-mi inalt sufletul...am cantat,m-am rugat si m-am descarcat plangand..cand am aprins si ultima lumanare am stiut ca eram mai linistita...m-am intors acasa cu o ramura de maslin sfintita de Parinte si m-am bucurat de soarele minunat care mi-a incalzit trupul si sufletul...m-am plimbat si mi-am amintit cat sunt de norocoasa ca sunt sanatoasa,cu mintea lucida,ca nu am uitat sa zambesc,sa traiesc,sa sufar,sa sper...La multi ani dragi flori!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-2280299176332559024?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/2280299176332559024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=2280299176332559024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2280299176332559024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2280299176332559024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/03/in-ziua-de-florii.html' title='In ziua de Florii...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-8644429429810256006</id><published>2010-03-27T16:59:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T00:00:34.058+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Un buchet mare de flori...</title><content type='html'>care sa-mi umple sufletul cu toata fericirea lunii Martie, cu toata caldura razelor de soare, cu tot ceea ce inseamna primavara, iar eu am uitat...o magie de culori,nuante si zambete...un trandafir,un crin,floarea soarelui si multe alte floricele minunate marunte.In mijlocul lor troneaza o mini jucarie de plus si un biletel "fie ca acest buchet sa te umple de dragalasanie\dulceata"...este cel mai frumos dar pe care l-am primit in ultima vreme, cel mai mare buchet de flori pe care l-am primit vreodata...dar eu as vrea ca dragostea noastra sa devina asa de mare...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-8644429429810256006?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/8644429429810256006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=8644429429810256006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8644429429810256006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8644429429810256006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/03/un-buchet-mare-de-flori.html' title='Un buchet mare de flori...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-3448782688301303443</id><published>2010-03-25T18:53:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T00:12:17.373+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Praga...un oras de poveste</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S6_Tsfk8gOI/AAAAAAAAAJY/leoLIiPQEu8/s1600/100_6712.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S6_Tsfk8gOI/AAAAAAAAAJY/leoLIiPQEu8/s320/100_6712.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453810435113124066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am descoperit Praga intr-o zi de inceput de Martie, ar fi trebuit sa fie ca o floare de primavara,insa era gri si invaluita in fulgi de nea,albi,mari,pufosi...era atat de frig incat ne-au inghetat picioarele si nasul...ne-am incalzit insa mainile cu un pahar de vin fiert de culoarea sangelui si mirosind profund a scortisoara, plimbandu-ne de-a lungul Vltavei pentru a trece peste podul timpului (Podul Carol un simbol ce uneste doua cartiere istorice: Orasul Vechi si Cartierul Mic)dornici sa calatorim cu mintea in marele trecut istoric...si deci desi timpul nu a fost aliatul nostru, m-am indragostit de acest oras minunat,m-am indragostit de farmecul lui,de aerul lui plin de istorie si viata...si mi-am promis ca am sa ma intorc odata cu razele soarelui,cu o vreme mai calda,mai primitoare...cu mai multa dragoste in sufletele noastre incercate de vremuri si timpuri,de oameni si de Dumnezeu!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S6_StMH2a2I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/t3p0C_Xv9aY/s1600/100_6701.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S6_StMH2a2I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/t3p0C_Xv9aY/s320/100_6701.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453809347559058274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-3448782688301303443?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/3448782688301303443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=3448782688301303443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/3448782688301303443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/3448782688301303443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/03/pragaun-oras-de-poveste.html' title='Praga...un oras de poveste'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/S6_Tsfk8gOI/AAAAAAAAAJY/leoLIiPQEu8/s72-c/100_6712.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-7567835673059075772</id><published>2010-03-04T14:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T14:40:34.676+01:00</updated><title type='text'>M-as simti implinita sufleteste...</title><content type='html'>...daca as putea as lua toate lacrimile de tristete,de singuratate care stau sa cada din ochii Mamei mele si le-as transforma in zambete,in clipe minunate...in fericire. Din pacate tot ceea ce pot face este sa-i dau motive sa fie mandra de mine,sa incerc sa-i aduc impliniri sufletesti pentru ca nu-i patez numele,sa o fac sa zambeasca din cand in cand chiar daca am si eu apasarile mele...de multe ori nu reusesc sa-mi stapanesc manifestarile,sa nu-mi revars nemultumirile si tristetile asupra ei, si pentru asta imi cer iertare...&lt;br /&gt;Sunt cu constiinta impacata ca sursa lacrimilor ei nu este comportamentul meu si totusi nu pot sa nu sufar vazand cat este de nefericita,cum nu are norocul sa intalneasca o persoana care sa o iubeasca,sa-i incalzeasca sufletul,sa nasca pasiuni inaltatoare,sa-i alunge clipele de singuratate,sa-i aduca numai lacrimi de fericire,sa poata fi si femeie nu doar mama,prietena,...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-7567835673059075772?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/7567835673059075772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=7567835673059075772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7567835673059075772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7567835673059075772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/03/m-as-simti-implinita-sufleteste.html' title='M-as simti implinita sufleteste...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-4320095322994010898</id><published>2010-03-02T15:10:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:16:00.153+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cand la capatul unui drum te mai asteapta inca,..o prietena!</title><content type='html'>Cand nelinistile pun stapanire pe sufletul tau, cand simti ca totul este impotriva ta,cand ratacesti haotic pe strazi fara sa-ti aduci aminte pe unde ai calcat ultima oara, cand tot ceea ce-ti oferea satisfactii nu-ti mai ofera nici macar un zambet, cand persoanele in care ai crezut cel mai mult te-au tradat, cand cel pe care-l iubeai pana la ultima suflare a plecat sa-si gaseasca fericirea in bratele altei femei,pentru ca ale tale erau prea obosite…sau cine stie...cand a comunica cu Dumnezeu nu-ti mai linisteste noptile si visurile…incerci sa iei o gura de oxigen,incerci sa tragi puternic aer in piept,sa-ti iei un moment de liniste,de izolar...&lt;br /&gt;...eu am plecat spre prietena mea de-o viata, sa ne amintim de vremurile dulci ale copilariei, cand ne doream sa fim mari, sa fim femei, cand 15 ani si o zi erau deja 16, cand inca nu descoperisem apasarile timpurilor, cand orele 04 ale diminetii nu lasau amprente asupra chipului si trupului nostru pentru ca reuseam sa ne trezim la 06 si sa mergem la munca, sa dam o mana de ajutor parintilor\bunicilor la munca campului, cand nici un pom nu era prea inalt ca sa nu fie catarat, cand nu mai conta cu ce ne incaltam atata timp cand alergam cu viteza, cand fardurile erau produse interzise iar rujul tinea prea putin pentru ca uitam ca este pe buze, cand nicio apa nu era prea rece sau prea adanca, cand niciun animal nu era prea murdar ca sa nu fie mangaiat, cand mancam fara probleme de microbi orice fruct luat direct de pe jos, cand stelele pareau atat de aproape incat parca le atingeam cu mana, cand nu aveam telefoane mobile si totusi stiam mai multe una despre cealalta, cand inca mai scriam scrisori si asteptam raspunsuri, cand inca mai plecam cu cortul si ni se parea cea mai luxoasa calatorie...cand prietenia era lucrul cel mai important din lume...&lt;br /&gt;...si le-am retrait pe toate la o cafea,la un ceai sau poate au fost mai multe caci nu-mi amintesc cum au zburat orele...si am trait si altele, prezente, actuale, care ne macina, care ne-au schimbat, si am vrut sa ni le povestim cu foc, cu patima, cu speranta ca impartasite vor disparea, vor deveni mai usoare, mai putin apasatoare...si poate ca ne-am incarcat bateriile, pentru viitor, pentru orele, zilele, saptamanile in care vom fi din nou singure impotriva lumii, sau lumea impotriva noastra, sau noi incercand sa ne integram in aceasta lume...draga prietena mi-a fost atat de bine cu tine...ITI MULTUMESC, II multumesc ca existi in viata mea!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-4320095322994010898?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/4320095322994010898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=4320095322994010898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4320095322994010898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4320095322994010898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/03/cand-la-capatul-unui-drum-te-mai.html' title='Cand la capatul unui drum te mai asteapta inca,..o prietena!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-172571644831652596</id><published>2010-03-01T15:21:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T15:41:29.288+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Un ghiocel...un Martisor...este 1 Martie!!!</title><content type='html'>Astazi este 1 Martie! si-mi doresc din toata inima sa primesc si eu un martisor...dar nu va veni,pentru ca tara in care-mi rataceste corpul nu are aceasta traditie...raman deci nostalgica cu gandul la zilele copilariei cand asteptam cu nerabdare sa port fericita in piept martisoarele de diferite forme si culori primite de la colegii de scoala,de la prieteni sau de la tatal meu...eram atat de fericita si de mandra,si le agatam pe toate ca sa arate cat de mult sunt iubita si apreciata,si-mi facea placere cand seara le dadeam jos si le agatam pe bluza care urma sa o port a doua zi...adoram acel snur rosu-alb impletit cu atata fericire...si stiam sa rad din tot sufletul...si-mi alegeam "Baba" cu toata speranta ca ziua aleasa va fi minunata si anul va fi la fel de minunat ca ziua aceea...dar anul era minunat,si eu nu stiam, pentru ca eram tanara,stiam sa zambesc si sa iubesc,iubeam cu toate simtirile viata...si natura...si primavara!!!&lt;br /&gt;Astazi este 1 MArtie!!!...iar eu nu mai sunt copilul care eram odata...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-172571644831652596?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/172571644831652596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=172571644831652596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/172571644831652596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/172571644831652596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/03/un-ghiocelun-martisoreste-1-martie.html' title='Un ghiocel...un Martisor...este 1 Martie!!!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-2625717530502544750</id><published>2010-02-18T15:11:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T15:25:11.157+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Two dots of light sinking into a well of darkness...</title><content type='html'>There are no second changes in life,except to feel remorse. &lt;br /&gt;   Sometimes we think people are like lottery tickets,that they're there to make our most absurd dreams come true, but what matters isn't what one gives but what one gives up. Destiny is usually just around the corner.Like a thief,a hooker,or a lottery vendor:its three most common personifications.But what destiny does not do is home visits. You have to go for it yourself and the moment you stop to think about whether you love someone,you've already stopped loving that person forever...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-2625717530502544750?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/2625717530502544750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=2625717530502544750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2625717530502544750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2625717530502544750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/02/two-dots-of-light-sinking-into-well-of.html' title='Two dots of light sinking into a well of darkness...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-1842211013141940496</id><published>2010-02-11T13:26:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T15:07:46.052+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Bubu!!!</title><content type='html'>Uneori ma apuca nostalgiile iar mintea mea incepe sa rataceasca catre momente trecute ale vietii mele...astazi imi lipseste mai mult ca oricand pisica mea minunata, Bubu a mea...am deschis repede fotografiile din telefon ca sa-mi alin dorul de ea,insa nu au facut decat sa-l amplifice...si cand ma gandesc ca inainte sa o intalnesc pe ea in mintea mea era de neconceput sa am un animal in casa, dar de ea m-am indragostit imediat ce am vazut-o,langa cabinetul veterinar al verisoarei mele,mica si neagra si cu un chef nebun de joaca,ca toti puiutii...dar ea spre deosebire de fratii ei avea ceva ce ma atragea...ma gandesc ca asa este si in viata,alaturi de oameni,exista niste forte de atractie pe care nu le putem descrie,care ne unesc,care ne fac sa venim mai aproape unii de ceilalti...si am luat-o acasa,desi treceam printr-o perioada grea,nu aveam serviciu si abia reuseam sa-mi duc existenta,dar a adus atata bucurie in viata mea...imi amintesc cat era de jucausa si plina de viata,de atunci au trecut 5 ani si din pacate nu este langa mine,pentru ca drumurile mele au facut sa ajung departe,pe ea am lasat-o cu fostul meu iubit. El o iubeste la nebunie,o vad din cand in cand si-mi spune ca are caracterul meu,ca-mi seamana mult...si desi nu credeam inainte,animalele iau din caracterul stapanilor lor...imi lipseste mult!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-1842211013141940496?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/1842211013141940496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=1842211013141940496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/1842211013141940496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/1842211013141940496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/02/bubu.html' title='Bubu!!!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-5150811813472057204</id><published>2010-02-01T17:03:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T18:01:33.972+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbatul argumentelor</title><content type='html'>In urma cu un an pe vremea aceasta iubeam un barbat,ardeam in chinurile inflacarate ale dragostei,incercam sa cuceresc sufletului unui om caruia nici macar nu-i pasa de mine, care-si traia propria suferinta dupa persoana care-l abandonase satula sa-i mai suporte nepasarile si personalitatea-i fulminanta...un paradox stiu, dar oare nu asa este Ea, VIATA,un lung sir de paradoxuri?...Acest barbat caruia pentru orice cerinta trebuia sa-i aduci un argument bine intemeiat si bine exprimat,pentru care numai faptele sale nu cereau nicio explicatie,nicun argument...caci in teoria lui toate erau corecte si concrete...care pentru suferinta lui trada si amagea doua suflete...si am plans si l-am iubit cu fiecare parte a corpului si a sufletului meu...&lt;br /&gt;Vremurile acelea mi le-a reamintit astazi un prieten pe care-l descopeream in aceeasi perioada, si mi-au facut placere unele amintiri dar ma simt de parca ar fi trecut 1000 de ani,au ramas toate in urma ca o istorie la care esti participant si care nu vrei sa se mai intoarca, chiar daca nu regret nimic (pentru ca viata mea mi-am trait-o fara regrete,caci stiu ca am dat tot ceea ce puteam da in acele clipe)imi dau seama ca atat cat am iubit atat de indiferente mi se par toate acum, nu pot spune ca-l urasc pentru ca sufletul meu nu vrea sa cunoasca acest cuvant si pentru ca din fiecare intamplare se trag invataminte, dar pot spune ca acele timpuri imi par atat de indepartate, ca facand parte dintr-o alta viata...Un necunoscut...Cata inocenta,cata naivitate...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-5150811813472057204?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/5150811813472057204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=5150811813472057204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5150811813472057204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5150811813472057204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/02/barbatul-argumentelor.html' title='Barbatul argumentelor'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-8986988464811114813</id><published>2010-01-14T18:13:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T17:01:20.893+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ochii oglinda sufletului?</title><content type='html'>Sunt oare ochii,asa cum se spune, oglinda sufletului? reflecta ei oare marile tristeti interioare?infinitele fericiri?...cautarile de fiece moment?...&lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu...insa aud aproape in fiecare zi ca am niste ochi minunati,rotunzi si care exprima in cele mai clare forme ceva ce vine din interiorul meu...stiu ca ochii mei exprima fericirea maxima atunci cand se intampla si tristetile si supararile chinuitoare atunci cand pun stapanire pe corpul meu firav si pe caracterul meu puternic...si mai stiu ca ei nu au mintit niciodata,au fost mereu ca o carte deschisa spre sufletul meu, pacat ca au fost putini cei care au reusit sa le inteleaga taina...sau poate ca au inteles prea bine mesajul care l-au transmis si atunci de teama au fugit,speriati de ceea ce au descoperit...si vreau sa cred ca frmusetea sperie,ca sinceritatea si puritatea nu sunt pentru toata lumea...&lt;br /&gt;Poate ochii mei sunt asa de minunati din cauza izvoarelor de lacrimi,a pasiunii cu care traiesc fiecare moment,a regretelor ca as fi putut face mai mult,a luptei mele continue cu timpul si vremurile,a locurilor minunate pe care le-au vazut,a dragostei pe care o port celor din jur cunoscuti/necunoscuti,pasageri ai cartii mele, numite VIATA...&lt;br /&gt;OCHI mei sunt o fotografie...a sufletului meu spre Dumnezeu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-8986988464811114813?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/8986988464811114813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=8986988464811114813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8986988464811114813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8986988464811114813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/01/ochii-oglinda-sufletului.html' title='Ochii oglinda sufletului?'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-1885902892149151783</id><published>2010-01-09T00:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T16:37:32.404+01:00</updated><title type='text'>De ce iubirile dor? de ce lacrimile ard?</title><content type='html'>Oare lacrimile unui barbat sunt mai putenice decat cele ale unei femei? am avut mereu aceasta indoiala...sunt ei oare mai puternici? atunci cand plang oare lacrimile lor au acelasi gust?sarat,amar,chinuitor...oare pentru ca plang mai rar inseamna ca si suferinta este mai puternica?...cate intrebari pentru aceleasi lacrimi...atunci cand am crezut ca nu mai pot face suferintei chinuitoare am inceput sa plang, atunci cand barbatul pe care-l iubeam pleca de langa mine spunandu-mi cu nonsalanta ca vrea o alta viata din care eu nu fac parte,am inceput sa plang...cand parintii mei au divortat pentru ca nu se mai intelegeau,mi-am luat toata vina si am inceput sa plang amarnic...cand nu am intrat de prima oara la Universitate am inceput sa plang ca si cum ar fi venit sfarsitul lumii...la fiecare nunta sau botez mi-au dat lacrimile...la fiece film mai romantic sau mai surprinzator am plans...o mare de lacrimi, un ocean de fericire si suferinta...&lt;br /&gt;Si cand ma gandesc ca la inceput,cand eram un bebelas,plansul era doar pentru a le atrage atentia celorlalti ca aveam nevoie de ceva,ca-mi era foame,sete sau aveam dureri, poate ca si acum mai mult sau mai putin este tot un semnal,pacat ca acum nu prea mai intereseaza pe nimeni.Atunci mama era cea care cu grija ei stergea toate lacrimile, acum saraca nici ea nu le mai poate sterge, poate le are si ea pe ale ei si nu i le sterge nimeni...cel putin atunci cand suntem bebelusi un lucru este sigur:lacrimile unei fetite sunt aceleasi ca si cele ale unui baietel...apoi cine mai stie, fiecare cu suferintele si fericirile lui, fiecare cu o lacrima uneori la vedere alteori pe furis sa nu le vada nimeni...de rusine,de ambitie,de tarie de caracter sau poate din orgoliu...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-1885902892149151783?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/1885902892149151783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=1885902892149151783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/1885902892149151783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/1885902892149151783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2010/01/de-ce-iubirile-dor-de-ce-lacrimile-ard.html' title='De ce iubirile dor? de ce lacrimile ard?'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-4272652070887359581</id><published>2009-12-17T17:18:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T17:44:14.232+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Oare trebuie sa renunti la prieteni atunci cand iubesti?</title><content type='html'>As putea sa continui sa ma prefac ca nu ma intereseaza sau ca nu m-a afectat dar as fi ipocrita,ceea ce nu am fost, cred,niciodata...Asa ca spun cu tot chinul in suflet ca m-a durut enorm cand mi-am sunat prietenul si mi-a inchis (la inceput am crezut ca este intr-o intalnire si nu poate raspunde),apoi am descoperit de la el ca era impreuna cu iubita lui si nu mi-a raspuns pentru ca nu vroia sa-i dea explicatii...ideea este ca nu am sunat la o ora tarzie in noapte cand cineva si-ar putea face iluzii sau cand omul are putea dormi,si deci l-as deranja, am sunat in plina zi...Ii respect decizia pentru ca este prietenul meu,dar asta nu inseamna ca nu ma doare,ma doare pentru ca s-ar fi putut intampla ceva rau si as fi putut avea nevoie de ajutorul lui,si cui poti cere ajutorul daca nu celui care iti este prieten?...si nu se spune oare ca prietenii adevarati sunt aceia pe care-i poti suna la orice ora din zi si din noapte si ei sunt imediat alaturi de tine cand ai maxima nevoie??? Ma doare sa vad ca s-a schimbat, chiar daca sunt fericita pentru povestea lui de dragoste dar nu pot accepta faptul ca nu are puterea sa o faca pe cea de langa el sa inteleaga ca nu sunt un pericol ci doar o persoana pe care a avut-o alaturi si cu care a impartasit multe lucruri care au facut parte din viata lui,si ca sunt pur si simplu un om care face parte din viata lui inainte ca ea sa fi facut parte...&lt;br /&gt;Mereu in fata celor cu care am fost nu a trebuit sa dau mai multe explicatii cu privire la alegerile mele,la prietenii pe care ii am si la faptul ca am modul meu de a fi, a fost mereu suficient sa-i fac sa inteleaga ca pe ei ii iubesc si ca atunci cand spun ca este un prieten, este doar un prieten si nimic mai mult....dar asta sunt eu...&lt;br /&gt;Indiferent cate sentimente si stari de suflet am impartasit nu as avea acum curajul sa-i spun in fata ca m-a ranit...&lt;br /&gt;Dragul meu prieten,daca ai sa citesti ceea ce am scris sper sa intelegi ca nu este o critica ci doar o mare durere pe care o am in suflet...poate ca exagerez dar ma simt lepadata inainte ca cocosul sa fi cantat a treia oara...ca ai fost slab si pentru a evita discutii care ar putea dezechilibra relatia pe care ti-ai dorit-o mereu,relatia pe care o ai acum, te-ai lepadat de mine...dar desi te inteleg (sau imi doresc sa o fac) rana nu se poate inchide...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-4272652070887359581?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/4272652070887359581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=4272652070887359581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4272652070887359581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4272652070887359581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/12/oare-trebuie-sa-renunti-la-prieteni.html' title='Oare trebuie sa renunti la prieteni atunci cand iubesti?'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-6325480288666044440</id><published>2009-12-10T13:12:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T14:59:38.413+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Oare pana unde?...</title><content type='html'>Nu mi-a placut niciodata sa fac politica,am lasat-o in seama celor mai experimentati,celor mai dornici sa critice,acuze,judece,laude actiunile unora si altora ce s-au perindat pe la putere...eu am crezut mereu si cred in continuare ca toti cei ajunsi pe scena politica au uitat de unde au plecat si care era scopul lor initial:acela de a servi nevoile si problemele poporului (caci pentru aceea au fost alesi),si si-au vazut doar scopul lor acela de a obtine un "ciolan" cat mai mare si mai rotund in diametru...De ce sa nu fure si ei cand toti ceilalti s-au imbogatit deja in jurul lor,unde a luat unul mai merge sa mai ia inca unul...&lt;br /&gt;M-am intors in tara intr-o mini vacanta si am nimerit in plin vartej electoral,in plina mizerie si mocirla,intr-o cocina de cea mai joasa speta,si desi am fost un cetatean care si-a facut mereu datoria (deoarece stiu ca dreptul la vot s-a castigat greu de-a lungul istoriei) de aceasta data am refuzat vehement sa fac parte din aceasta mocirla,din acest joc murdar,am refuzat sa votez,am refuzat sa fiu in acel interval de persoane care l-au votat pe cel mai putin rau dintre cei "rai",si am sa refuz mereu sa votez doar de dragul de a-mi respecta dreptul la vot fara ca persoana pe care o votez sa aiba valoarea necesara de a ajunge Presedintele tarii, acea figura care ma reprezinta in lume ca si Romania,tara unde Dumnezeu a vrut sa ma nasc...Accept orice comentarii pentru lipsa mea de la vot dar asta nu inseamna ca sunt si de accord cu ele...&lt;br /&gt;Ceea ce m-a facut sa sciu aceste randuri este articolul pe care l-am citit astazi intr-un ziar pe internet:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.jurnalul.ro/stire-observator/video-navala-la-groapa-de-gunoi-pentru-a-aduna-mancare-expirata-529977.html &lt;br /&gt;...daca dupa exact 20 de ani de la marea Revolutie,atunci cand ca si natie,din motive necunoscute (necunoscute de a-l omora,pentru ca sustin ca Ceausescu putea sa ajunga in inchisoare),am decis sa ne omoram conducatorul,Romania, romanul cinstit a ajuns sa traiasca asa ca in reportajul de mai sus,atunci strig din tot sufletul RUSINE!!! si PACAT...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-6325480288666044440?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/6325480288666044440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=6325480288666044440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6325480288666044440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6325480288666044440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/12/oare-pana-unde.html' title='Oare pana unde?...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-336070888676592106</id><published>2009-12-01T10:26:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T12:28:18.215+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...Fiecare are un 1'...</title><content type='html'>"Hai l'intraprendenza e la sensibilità necessarie per tradurre le tue fantasie in realtà da vivere e assaporare attimo per attimo. Perciò non limitarti a sognare a occhi aperti, mettiti d'impegno per spingere nella tua direzione gli eventi e le situazioni. Organizza le occasioni, dai una mano al destino e vedrai che il miracolo che stai attendono si realizzerà presto" - asa sta scris la horoscopul de astazi...cum as putea sa nu ma limitez la a visa cu ochii deschisi cand singura dovada este visul? cand nu exista nimic concret in afara de asta? sa dau o mana destinului...dar oare nu destinul este cel care trebuie sa-mi intinda o mana, oare nu este El cel care ar trebui sa-mi arate ca se poate si in alt mod?...&lt;br /&gt;In fiecare an pe 01 Decembrie,pe langa ca este ziua Nationala a Romaniei,este si ziua unei foste colege de Universitate cu care am fost buna prietena si cu care am ramas amica,in ciuda tutturor rautatilor petrecute intre noi,si pe care o sun in fiecare an sa-i fac urarile de bine necesare evenimentului.Timp de un an nu este ca aflam una despre cealalta prea multe,la un moment dat cred ca a ramas doar o obisnuinta,un gest dintre doi oameni maturi,de a face aceste urari(caci si ea ma suna de fiecare data cand este ziua mea)...acestea sunt momentele cand aflam stirile importante una despre cealalta, pacat (pentru mine) ca ea le are pe toate,cariera,familie,fericire, in timp ce noutatile mele sunt intotdeauna legate doar de munca si de mutarile continue dintr-o parte in alta. Daca anul trecut imi spunea ca face pregatirile de nunta, anul acesta mi-a dat minunata veste ca asteapta un baietel care se va naste in luna februarie...mi-a spus ca este bine, ca a avut o sarcina usoara si ca s-a ingrasat 14kg (sunt cele mai frumoase kilograme din viata unei femei,pentru toate celelalte exista lamentari,plansete,diete)...ma bucur pentru ea...si ma intristez pentru mine...cu fiecare an care mai trece imi dau seama ca imbatranesc si ca sunt singura,si nu ar fi asta totul, dar privind in prezent imi dau seama cati ani ar trebui sa mai treaca pana sa gasesti persoana potrivita care sa te iubeasca si pe care sa o iubesti,apoi decizia de a-ti uni destinele,apoi planificarea copilului....si anii trec,si tineretea trece,si corpul imbatraneste si el si nu-i poti cere rezultate miraculoase...ca unei masini vechi de 30ani,nu-i poti cere sa mearga cu 120km/h cand tot ce mai poate sunt doar 80km/h,si nu-i poti cere sa aiba 50.000km cand ea are peste 150.000km,chiar daca ai putea sa-i pacalesti pe cei din jur cu o vopsea noua si cu kilometrajul dat inapoi stii ca pe tine nu te poti minti,nici macar nu te mai poti amagi...durerea ascunsa nu dispare...&lt;br /&gt;Dar pana la urma cine sunt eu sa-mi pun la indoiala Destinul? sa-I cer explicatii pentru viata mea?...nu mai privesc demult in viitor,traiesc doar prezentul ca sa nu-mi scape nimic,desi parca simt ca-mi fuge mai mereu printre degete,ca-mi scapa ceva, si am invatat sa-l accept asa cum este...si nu mai visez cu ochii deschisi,nu mai visez deloc,de teama...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-336070888676592106?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/336070888676592106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=336070888676592106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/336070888676592106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/336070888676592106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/12/fiecare-are-un-1.html' title='...Fiecare are un 1&apos;...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-6550166127948466148</id><published>2009-11-18T10:47:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T11:10:31.226+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Decizii...intrebari...dubii</title><content type='html'>Am considerat mereu ca lunile noiembrie si decembrie sunt mai speciale in viata mea si am realizat cu timpul cand am inceput sa devin mai matura ca toate lucrurile mari si importante din viata mea s-au intamplat in aceste luni...ma refer la noutati,propuneri,oferte care apoi mi-au influentat cursul vietii mele viitoare...si acum se pare ca acest lucru se intampla din nou.Oare am sa iau decizia corecta? am sa reusesc sa aleg ceea ce pe viitor va fi cel mai bine pentru mine?...in ultimii ani m-am plimbat mereu dintr-un oras in altul,am trait experiente de munca din cele mai variate,am fost mereu un calator cu valiza facuta,nedesfacuta pana la capat niciodata,am ales sa fiu singura pentru a ma realiza in cariera,am cunoscut oameni,mi-am facut prieteni si nu mi-a parut rau niciodata...poate doar am suferit in tacere,am plans incercand sa descarc tensiunile acumulate in clipele de singuratate,in clipele in care l-am abandonat chiar si pe Dumnezeu,desi au fost pana la urma alegerile mele iar renegarea nu-si avea rostul, pentru ca putin dupa sa ma intorc cu fata spre EL spasita,ca un "caine cu coada intre picioare",cerandu-mi iertare si multumind ca nu m-a abandonat...&lt;br /&gt;Mama mea spune ca destinul nu il facem noi,indiferent cat de mult am vrea sa credem asta,si ca "ce iti este scris,in frunte iti este pus", si poate are dreptate,nu incerc sa o contrazic dar ma gandesc ca poate totusi prin alegerile noastre am mai putea schimba ceva, si totusi deciziile pe care le luam in anumite momente sunt cele pe care le consideram cele mai potrivite la acel moment,apoi cand lucrurile nu merg bine incepem sa ne gandim ca poate era mai bine sa fi ales varianta numarul 2...de parca ar exista un numarul 1 sau 2,sau 3..4...5...nu stiu ce sa fac...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-6550166127948466148?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/6550166127948466148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=6550166127948466148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6550166127948466148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6550166127948466148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/11/deciziiintrebaridubii.html' title='Decizii...intrebari...dubii'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-8585354782674372096</id><published>2009-11-16T13:02:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T15:15:02.156+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cu inima si mintea am plecat...la Colindat...</title><content type='html'>Am privit e-mail-ul primit de la colegii de la Iasi si am inceput sa plang, sa plang de bucuria amintirilor frumoase avute impreuna cu ei Craciunul trecut si de tristete pentru ca anul acesta nu voi putea fi alaturi de ei...lipsa mea din Corul care va aduce putina bucurie celor cu inima deschisa sa asculte minunatele colinde...&lt;br /&gt;Împletit cu postul şi cu rugăciunea, colindul arată adevărata dimensiune pe care trebuie să o aibă creştinul în Postul Crăciunului, anume să postească bucuros, pentru că a primit un dar minunat din Bethleem.Dar mai întâi, sau poate în acelaşi timp, suntem chemaţi la asceză şi la pocăinţă, putini sunt cei care o mai fac, din ce in ce mai putin cei cu inima curata...cred ca daca o persoana nu stie sa iubeasca atunci nu a invatat nimic si degeaba incearca sa se abtina de la mancare...a iubi nu doar pe cei care fac parte din sangele nostru,nu doar pe cei care ne-au dat viata, ci pe toata lumea cunoscut sau necunoscut...pentru ca Dumnezeu ne-a iubit: «Atât de mult a iubit Dumnezeu lumea, încât L-a dat pe unicul Său Fiu, pentru ca toţi cei care cred în El să aibă viaţă veşnică.»...pentru ca s-a intamplat ceva ce nu avea sa faca parte din niciun ciclu al ordinii normale «Întruparea», naşterea Mântuitorului nostru Iisus Hristos din Fecioara Maria, după trup. «Taina cea din veci ascunsă şi de îngeri neştiută»...&lt;br /&gt;Cat de frumos descrie pr. prof. dr Constantin Pătuleanu, care este parohul Bisericii Sf. Nicoale "Udricani" din Bucureşti şi profesor la Facultatea de Teologie Ortodoxă din Craiova,latura profund creştină a tradiţiei de a colinda: "Îndeobşte, colindele se ascultă cu emoţie şi pioşenie, vorbind ele însele despre ele, iar bucuria de a le asculta depăşeşte orice încercare de descriere sau definire a lor. Ele sunt glasurile cristaline ale strămoşilor, ce odinioară fuseseră copii, care ne încântă auzul, luminându-ne beznele sufletului, căci ele se adresează concomitent minţii raţionale şi sufletului trăitor. Ele ne limpezesc mintea, făcând-o să înţeleagă neînţelesul, sensibilizează inima, pentru ca aceia care le ascultă să trăiască o bucurie nespusă, realizându-se astfel legătura indestructibilă şi necesară dintre minte şi inimă. Fără ele bucuria naşterii Domnului Iisus Hristos n-ar mai fi deplină. Dincolo de valoarea lor teologică, emoţională şi etnologică, căci, asemeni doinelor, ele vin din străfunduri de istorie, reprezentând documente vii ale limbii poporului nostru; prin ele ne-am păstrat şi unitatea de fiinţă, de neam şi de credinţă; adică însăşi continuitatea chinuită pe aceste meleaguri binecuvântate; ele, colindele, mai au şi o altă dimensiune: etică sau morală, care ţine de scânteia divină din fiinţa omenească. Aceasta ne ajută şi ne îndeamnă să renaştem prin metanoia (înoire), să devenim mai buni, mai iertători, cu alte cuvinte, mai vrednici de împărăţia lui Dumnezeu. E adevărat că renaşterea şi înnoirea noastră trebuie să se producă în duh, căci: «Cine nu se va naşte din apă şi din duh nu va intra în împărăţia lui Dumnzeu...». Noi credem că, prin sensibilitatea pe care ne-o transmit, colindele ne ajută să-l cunoaştem pe Dumnezeu mai direct decât pe orice altă cale. Ele pătrund în casele şi-n sufletele noastre, aduse de copiii care, cu vocile lor diafane şi cristaline, cu inocenţa lor, bat la uşile creştinilor, alungând din inimile lor bezna păcatului şi aprinzând candela nădejdilor de mântuire, într-o lume bântuită de stihiile şi furiile răutăţii. Aceşti copii nu au nevoie să li se vorbească savant despre Dumnezeu, ei ştiu să-l primească pe Dumnezeu direct, intuitiv, cu sufletul deschis, prin curăţenia şi neprihănirea sufletelor lor. Cu siguranţă că de aceea Dumnezeu îi îndeamnă pe cei care doresc mântuirea la trăire în starea copilăriei nevinovate. În preajma Crăciunului n-ar fi nepotrivit să ne străduim a redescoperi copilăria cu frumuseţea, candoarea şi puritatea ei. Să redevenim pentru o clipă copii! Să nu ratăm această şansă unică a mântuirii prin colindele copilăriei!"...&lt;br /&gt;...Am plecat sa colindam, Domn-Domn sa-naltam,&lt;br /&gt;Cand boierii nu-s acasa....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-8585354782674372096?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/8585354782674372096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=8585354782674372096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8585354782674372096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8585354782674372096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/11/cu-inima-si-mintea-am-plecatla-colindat.html' title='Cu inima si mintea am plecat...la Colindat...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-6033904988502109100</id><published>2009-11-11T10:58:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T11:23:00.616+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Gheorghe Dinica - in inima mea va exista mereu..</title><content type='html'>Acest actor uriaş, care a urcat pe scenă mai des decât toţi actorii unui teatru mare la un loc, care a jucat roluri grele în peste 80 de filme şi care a făcut atâtea alte lucruri frumoase pentru noi, semenii lui, va ramane mereu in inima mea...am lacrimi in suflet de durere, s-a mai dus dintre noi un mare artist, incep sa ramana din ce in ce mai putini din generatia de aur, dar asa imi dau seama ca timpul trece si ca din pacate nu suntem nemuritori...din pacate pentru ca pierdem astfel de oameni;dar viata vine si trece ca un tren prin gara, cu bune, cu rele...maestrul Dinica a adus ceea ce a fost mai frumos, vocea lui inconfundabila imi va ramane mereu in minte si in suflet...&lt;br /&gt;Citeam intr-un interviu : "Nu vreau să fiu acuzat de nostalgism, dar eu am făcut înainte filme care aveau calitate mai ridicată. Eu nu am mai văzut o poveste de dragoste într-un film românesc. N-am mai văzut un scenariu cu doi tineri care se iubesc. De ce? Cum să fie o poveste banală, e sensul vieţii! Aş vrea şi eu să joc un personaj dintr-ăsta, de ce dracu' nu se scrie? Îţi vine să nu te mai scoli dimineaţa şi să dai în darul beţiei. Eu nu spun să se parfumeze un scenariu, dar trebuie găsit un echilibru." ... iubea viata...si nu numai...&lt;br /&gt;Dumnezeu sa-i odihneasca sufletul in pace!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-6033904988502109100?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/6033904988502109100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=6033904988502109100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6033904988502109100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6033904988502109100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/11/gheorghe-dinica-in-inima-mea-va-exista.html' title='Gheorghe Dinica - in inima mea va exista mereu..'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-8443704208081603371</id><published>2009-11-04T23:14:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T23:36:05.540+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Un cersetor...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SvIAh90z4ZI/AAAAAAAAAHA/oQgYWAg9wVw/s1600-h/100_4546.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SvIAh90z4ZI/AAAAAAAAAHA/oQgYWAg9wVw/s320/100_4546.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400379486702395794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;viata m-a adus in pragurile umilintei si ale disperarii...am ajuns "un cersetor"...al Dragostei...ma vad in fiecare zi stand la coltul unei strazi si parca am mana intinsa, intinsa dupa fiecare persoana care ar putea sa-mi ofere...Dragostea...ma intind sa apuc cu degetele mele firave ultima farama de iubire,ultima scama de bunatate,...si strig uneori cu toata forta care sta in mine,poate ma aude cineva...dar nu are cine, fiecare este grabit in directia lui,in scopul bine ales,sau alergand la intamplare..si apoi cum sa ma auda caci strigatul este in mine...dar eu continui sa urlu...si continui sa cercesc,cu ochi blanzi,cu o lacrima pierduta in coltul ochilor...ma umilesc,ma tarai,intru in noroi si abia mai vad de oboseala,de frig,de privirile neinteresate ale celor din jur...le-as da tot ce am mai bun in suflet,in ganduri, in viata...doar sa am ceea ce cersesc...Dragoste...sunt convinsa ca daca mi-ar auzi urletul multi ar continua sa fuga,doar cel care s-ar opri ar intelege ca urletul meu cerseste...dragoste, si ar insemna sa ma salveze, sa redevin femeie, sa am din nou sperante,demnitate...si iubire...pacat ca cersesc de fiecare data la un colt de strada gresit,la o ora nepotrivita,intr-un anotimp ales la intamplare...pentru mine, pentru El...de parca dragostea ar avea anotimp,ora,vremuri...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-8443704208081603371?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/8443704208081603371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=8443704208081603371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8443704208081603371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8443704208081603371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/11/un-cersetor.html' title='Un cersetor...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SvIAh90z4ZI/AAAAAAAAAHA/oQgYWAg9wVw/s72-c/100_4546.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-2390723663467237940</id><published>2009-11-02T23:36:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T01:12:40.802+01:00</updated><title type='text'>November Rain...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/Su91WKns8tI/AAAAAAAAAG4/5jgPlfsEJgY/s1600-h/trandafir2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/Su91WKns8tI/AAAAAAAAAG4/5jgPlfsEJgY/s320/trandafir2.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399663501908964050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In times of grief and sorrow i will hold you and rock you, and take your grief and make it my own.When you cry,I cry, and when you hurt,I hurt.And together we will try to hold back the floods of tears and despair and make it through the potholed streets of life"...&lt;br /&gt;O zi de noiembrie in adevartul sens al cuvantului...privind afara imi vine in minte melodia celor de la "Guns N'Roses" - November Rain...si tristetea aferenta frigului, a ploii,a timpurilor tulburi pe care le parcurg,ale nelinistilor interioare,ale cuvintelor nerostite,ale gesturilor inabusite in fasa,ale tuturor dorintelor,viselor pierdute,sperantelor prafuite si chiar uitate...&lt;br /&gt;Este vremea uitarii,a lacrimilor,a gandirii profunde,a lacatelor ferecate,a pierderii intre trecut si prezent,a uitarii planurilor de viitor pentru ca este lipsit de speranta...Nu vreau sa ma mai mint ca ma simt bine cu mine insami,ca nu sufar,vreau sa plang,sa ma descarc de povara anilor,sa-mi eliberez sufletul de pacate, vreau timp pentru ranile adanci inca prezente pe chipul meu,spatiu pentru cele care urmeaza...&lt;br /&gt;"guns"-pentru toate suferintele trecute si prezente;&lt;br /&gt;"roses"-pentru toti cei care stiu sa mai iubeasca cu sufletul curat,care stiu sa planga,sa se bucure,sa daruiasca timp si placere,zambete si sperante,care stiu sa mai creada in Dumnezeu si in oameni,care se bucura de zi dar si de noapte in aceeasi masura,pentru toti cei care stiu sa daruiasca o floare cu demnitate si iubire,nu din interes sau obligatie...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-2390723663467237940?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/2390723663467237940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=2390723663467237940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2390723663467237940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2390723663467237940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/11/november-rain.html' title='November Rain...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/Su91WKns8tI/AAAAAAAAAG4/5jgPlfsEJgY/s72-c/trandafir2.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-8770953324791296210</id><published>2009-10-27T18:52:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T19:17:39.595+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Am invatat...</title><content type='html'>Din toate relatiile mele nefericite,pe care le-am avut cu persoane care au lasat urme adanci pe chipul meu dupa lungi nopti in care singurul lucru pe care stiam sa-l fac era plansul, am inteles in sfarsit: VIATA este atat de scurta si de pretioasa incat nu merita nici macar o secunda sa o irosesti cu persoane,momente,situatii care nu-ti umplu sufletul de bucurie,de fericire. Am inteles dupa un lung drum ca probleme iti poti crea si singur,ca nu este nevoie de o a doua persoana care sa ti le creeze, care sa te faca sa suferi...si la capatul acestui drum am mai inteles ca sunt o femeie frumoasa (pentru ca exista in fiecare zi cel putin o persoana care sa-mi aminteasca acest lucru), puternica(pentru ca in fiecare zi reusesc sa merg cu mandrie si forta mai departe), inteligenta (pentru ca fac fata cu brio unor situatii cu adevarat stimulante intelectual), ca am un suflet mare (pentru ca mi-o reamintesc prietenii si nu numai), ca sunt un bun ascultator (pentru ca in fiecare zi o persoana isi descarca sufletul in fata mea), ca iubesc tot ceea ce este frumos si bun, ca stiu sa zambesc si sa sufar in acelasi timp, ca stiu sa ma bucur de cei din jurul meu,ca stiu ca apreciez zambetul nepretuit al unui copil, ca respect timpul si varsta (pentru ca-mi face placere sa cedez locul meu pe scaun unei persoane mai in varsta chiar daca si corpul meu ar avea nevoie de odihna dupa o zi intreaga de munca)...ca stiu mai presus de orice sa-i respect pe ceilalti!!!&lt;br /&gt;Si daca stiu sa-i respect pe ceilalti de ce sa nu invat sa ma respect si pe mine? De ce sa accept rautatile celor din jur, de ce sa suport langa mine o persoana doar de dragul de a nu fi singura, de ce sa accept doar firimituri cand eu dau totul, de ca sa nu ma bucur de mine si de viata mea???&lt;br /&gt;Dar AM INVATAT!... si promit sa nu mai accept in viata mea decat acea persoana care va stii sa ma iubeasca si sa ma respecte asa cum merit,asa cum si eu stiu sa o fac!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-8770953324791296210?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/8770953324791296210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=8770953324791296210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8770953324791296210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8770953324791296210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/10/am-invatat.html' title='Am invatat...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-2163751272896566716</id><published>2009-10-22T11:37:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T11:51:22.949+02:00</updated><title type='text'>O relatie speciala...cu timpul</title><content type='html'>"Femeia Capricorn are o relatie speciala cu timpul, ceea ce va va face sa simtiti ca a venit fie prea devreme, fie prea târziu la întâlnirea dvs. cu destinul" - cat de mult ma regasesc in aceasta fraza, relatia mea cu timpul, dorinta mea permanenta de a controla, de a fi in armonie cu TIMPUL...il iubesc incepand cu modul in care il masuram, pasiunea mea cesurile, fie cele de mana(sau de buzunar)pana la cele afisate/expuse peste tot in jurul nostru...ma fascineaza cele desenate pe peretii cladirilor care arata timpul in functie de pozitia soarelui, ma fascineaza tot ceea ce este legat de timp...de vremuri&lt;br /&gt;Nu imi este teama de el, l-am asteptat mereu cu placere, cu seninatate...de aceea poate vin mereu prea devreme la intalnirea mea cu timpul, cu destinul...nu am intarziat niciodata, pentru ca as pierde o parte in mine,din felul meu de a fi,pentru ca nu m-as regasi...si totusi, daca as sti ca intarziind chiar si cu o secunda te-as gasi,dragostea mea, atunci as lasa pasiunea mea pentru timp,l-as trada doar ca sa fiu acolo...mai devreme cu o secunda pentru tine, mai tarziu cu o viata...pentru mine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-2163751272896566716?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/2163751272896566716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=2163751272896566716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2163751272896566716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2163751272896566716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/10/o-relatie-specialacu-timpul.html' title='O relatie speciala...cu timpul'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-58882240592656019</id><published>2009-09-03T16:09:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T17:16:19.541+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Orasul a revenit la viata...</title><content type='html'>Luna August s-a incheiat...vremea vacantelor a trecut, cel putin calendaristic la modul general,caci fiecare are timpul lui preferat pentru vacante...orasul a inceput sa devina agitat,freamata de lume cu pielea aurie si cu zambetul pe buze, inca nu este agitatia la capacitate maxima deoarece copii si adolescentii nu au inceput inca scolile dar orasul a prins viata...se alearga din nou,uneori haotic alteori cu un scop anume,fiecare cu problemele reale sau fictive in suflet si in minte...&lt;br /&gt;M-am intors si eu dupa cateva zile de concediu,mai obosita decat am plecat,dar nu este loc sa ma plang sau nu m-as simti bine sa o fac,caci asa cum spune bunul meu amic fiecare are timpul lui si se intampla cu un scop anume,pentru ca asa trebuie sa se intample...&lt;br /&gt;Astazi vorbeam cu prietena mea M si-mi spunea cat de rau a ramas dupa povestea ei de iubire, cum omul pe care l-a asteptat o viata a devenit omul de care nu mai vrea sa auda niciodata,care-i provoaca stari vomitive doar gandindu-se...mi-am dat seama ca este atat de afectata incat nu mai vrea sa mai aiba nimic cu italienii si cu tara lor,am apucat sa-i spun timid ca greseste,ca fiecarei persoane trebuie sa-i acorde prezumtia de nevinovatie si sa-i ofere increderea respectiva si ca indiferent unde ar pleca in lume situatia "starii de rau" nu se va schimba decat daca ea reuseste sa se impace cu sine...apoi am realizat ca este foarte greu,ca am avut si eu perioadele mele de indoiala,de deriva,de cale gresita,ca trebuie sa fii foarte puternic ca sa treci peste si ca nu multi reusesc sa o faca...ea este o persoana puternica,inteligenta si poate va reusi sa treaca peste,sau poate inteligenta nu are nimic cu aceste schimbari profunde, ma gandesc la amicul meu care chiar daca are un milion de calitati nu ar fi reusit sa treaca peste fara ajutorul cuiva,dar ajutorul trebuie sa si vrei sa-l primesti,sa fii pregatit pentru asta iar aici intervine EUL fiecaruia,acel ceva unde nimeni altcineva nu poate sa patrunda,decat tu,fiecare ca individ...Eu mi-am revenit cand mi-am reintors fata catre Dumnezeu, cand mi-am reluat calea,mai greu este atunci cand nu ai avut-o niciodata...&lt;br /&gt;In scurta vacanta m-am intalnit si cu prietenul meu drag,mi-am dat seama ca il vedeam cu alti ochi fata de ultima noastra intalnire,impacarea de sine mi-a adus alta viziune asupra lui si m-am bucurat enorm sa-l gasesc plin de viata,de pasiune,de interes fata de persoana cu care-si imparte acum viata...cand ne-am luat "La revedere" l-am sarutat pe obraji cu toata dragostea ce putea veni din interiorul meu,si ca de fiecare data cand petreci clipe frumoase,timpul a fost prea scurt pentru noi...pentru intalnirea noastra...&lt;br /&gt;Timpul vacantelor a trecut pentru unii...pentru altii poate abia incepe...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-58882240592656019?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/58882240592656019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=58882240592656019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/58882240592656019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/58882240592656019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/09/orasul-revenit-la-viata.html' title='Orasul a revenit la viata...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-5579007071619638427</id><published>2009-07-30T21:56:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T22:05:01.559+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Panza de paianjen...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SnH8cgJCy5I/AAAAAAAAAGw/imGJ_469Knw/s1600-h/100_2373.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SnH8cgJCy5I/AAAAAAAAAGw/imGJ_469Knw/s320/100_2373.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364346197769374610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vezi,asa imi inchipui viata,ca o panza de paianjen imensa,cenusie,lipicioasa,in care omul se zbate ca o musca.Undeva pazeste carnivorul:paianjenul...&lt;br /&gt;Dar,la fel ca atunci cand privesti cu binoclul din fundul unei sali de spactacol actorii de pe scena,mi se parea ca-i in acelasi timp prea departe si prea aproape...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-5579007071619638427?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/5579007071619638427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=5579007071619638427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5579007071619638427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5579007071619638427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/07/panza-de-paianjen.html' title='Panza de paianjen...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SnH8cgJCy5I/AAAAAAAAAGw/imGJ_469Knw/s72-c/100_2373.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-5376424450907638881</id><published>2009-07-30T21:29:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T21:56:45.807+02:00</updated><title type='text'>August...vremea vacantelor...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SnH66fnbMCI/AAAAAAAAAGo/XO3_0YPNNqk/s1600-h/100_4731.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SnH66fnbMCI/AAAAAAAAAGo/XO3_0YPNNqk/s320/100_4731.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364344514001186850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in curand majoritatea mazazinelor si firmelor din marea metropola isi vor inchide portile pentru aceasta perioada...un oras pustiu, sinistru, plin doar de turisti, probabil, care vor rataci prin caldura zilelor lui August...&lt;br /&gt;Ador poporul italian ca stie sa-si traiasca viata...mi se pare incredibil sa inchizi un magazin trei saptamani si sa pleci in concediu, sa te bucuri de momente de liniste,de familie,de prieteni, de natura,de soare,de viata...am inteles de ce atunci cand spui ca o persoana are 60ani ti se raspunde: "a!!dar este tanara!!!"...relizez acum ca este tanara in conceptul lor, pentru ca stiu sa traiasca,sa iubeasca,sa manance,sa faca din orice fel de mancare o adevarata istorie,din orice calatorie,calatoria vietii lor...pentru ca apoi sa o ia de la capat...indiferent de meseria pe care o practica stiu sa respecte zilele de concediu,si chiar daca nu au multi bani reusesc sa paraseasca orasul si sa mearga la mare,la munte,oriunde,doar sa se relaxeze...&lt;br /&gt;Aceasta este perioada in care fiecare trage un geamantan dupa el,in care toata lumea este fericita,in care nimeni nu mai este cu gandul la munca,in care orasele mari au devenit pustii,in care marea si muntele devin neincapatoare...iar copii sunt mai fericiti ca niciodata:parintii sunt alaturi de ei toata ziua...cat de frumos stiu unii sa traiasca aceasta viata...sunt fericita ca m-au adoptat in aceasta lume...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-5376424450907638881?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/5376424450907638881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=5376424450907638881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5376424450907638881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5376424450907638881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/07/augustvremea-vacantelor.html' title='August...vremea vacantelor...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SnH66fnbMCI/AAAAAAAAAGo/XO3_0YPNNqk/s72-c/100_4731.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-6191630430842647409</id><published>2009-07-27T13:03:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T16:42:42.428+01:00</updated><title type='text'>La capatul rabdarii...oare cine sta?</title><content type='html'>Am inceput de ceva vreme sa ma linistesc,sa am rabdare si sa cred ca totul are timpul lui in viata si se intampla atunci cand trebuie sa se intample...si totusi asta nu impiedica anii sa treaca, visele sa inceapa sa-si piarda forma,conturul,hainele frumoase sa se prafuiasca in dulap,fotografiile facute de una singura sa se inmulteasca,zambetul minunat al copiilor sa apartina doar celor din jurul tau...iar in linistea mea ma intreb totusi: daca toate lucrurile bune si frumoase vor veni prea tarziu?daca cuvintele frumoase,iubirile profunde, zambetele sincere vor veni atunci cand nu mai conteaza? daca vor veni atunci cand toate visele vazute cu ochii minti nu le voi mai recunoaste?daca nu voi mai stii sa ma bucur de ele?daca ma vor dezamagi?... abisul dintre visele care vuiesc in mintea mea si realitatea care ma inconjoara se adanceste cu fiecare secunda...si atunci?&lt;br /&gt;Mi-am proiectat imaginea in fereastra biroului unde imi petrec cea mai mare parte din viata, si-am vazut femeia frumoasa din mine,femeia eleganta si rafinata dedicata muncii,carierei...si-am vazut si singuratatea de la celalalt capat,orele petrecute in fata computerului ca si scuza pentru a nu ma intoarce acasa, pentru ca nu este nimeni care sa ma astepte...&lt;br /&gt;...Credeam că cer foarte puţin, dar se pare că e mult mai mult decât poate cineva să ofere.Nereusita lor ma duce cu gandul ca poate cer prea mult, ca sunt o povara prea grea...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-6191630430842647409?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/6191630430842647409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=6191630430842647409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6191630430842647409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6191630430842647409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/07/la-capatul-rabdariioare-cine-sta.html' title='La capatul rabdarii...oare cine sta?'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-199397857683372493</id><published>2009-07-17T09:43:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T09:59:56.994+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dragul meu...prieten,</title><content type='html'>fericirea pe care am regasit-o in ultimul tau mail mi-a adus lacrimi in ochi, nu as stii sa-ti spun daca pentru primele cinci minute au fost unele de fericirire sau de tristete, poate ambele...dar stiu ca atunci cand am citit ultimul cuvant in interiorul meu s-a intamplat ceva, am simtit pentru prima data ca te-am pierdut si ca nimic nu va mai fi la fel...la inceput a fost o unda de gelozie amestecata cu nervi, apoi cu trecerea timpului sufletul mi s-a umplut de bucurie gandindu-ma cat de fericit si implinit incepi sa devii...&lt;br /&gt;Stiu ca ai sa citesti aceste randuri si de aceea fiecare cuvant mai important trebuie sa-l detaliez, ca sa nu las din nou sufletul si mintea ta sa calatoreasca pe teritoriul indoielii si al incertitudinii...&lt;br /&gt;Gelozie pentru ca poti fi fericit si fara mine, ca nu ai sa mai ai nevoie de cuvintele de la mine, ca in centrul atentiei tale va sta altcineva...nervi pentru ca nu am stiut sa te iubesc asa cum meriti si deci sa am eu parte de sufletul tau minunat...Trecutul este si va ramane trecut asa ca iti doresc din tot sufletul meu incercat mult in ultimul timp sa fie EA aceea care porneste "motorul" si care sa reuseasca sa-l tina pornit pentru tot restul vietii tale...&lt;br /&gt;...Iar eu am sa incerc sa pastrez adanc in suflet aceste cuvinte: "Si te rog mult... bucura-te! De orice lucru! De o floare, de un zambet pe strada, de lumina soarelui printre crengile copacilor...orice draga mea"&lt;br /&gt;Multumesc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-199397857683372493?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/199397857683372493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=199397857683372493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/199397857683372493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/199397857683372493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/07/dragul-meuprieten.html' title='Dragul meu...prieten,'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-5825642287631521965</id><published>2009-07-14T21:29:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T22:08:59.812+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter...to you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SlzlzH--idI/AAAAAAAAAGg/gYqKoaIHAnk/s1600-h/100_4610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SlzlzH--idI/AAAAAAAAAGg/gYqKoaIHAnk/s320/100_4610.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358410323143330258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I don’t know how to start…how to tell you everything without scare you, without loosing you again…maybe you’ll say that you have never been mine, but for me in that night you have been everything…&lt;br /&gt;Seeing the distance between us is more easy for me not saying some things, or saying that for us is too late or that we don’t have any chance…but I have to tell you everything that I feel for you…that I liked you from the very begging, from the first time that I saw you, and I just wanted to be with you…I had the best days of my life, and Barcelona was wonderful because of you, after I’ve lost you was ugly, empty, without sense…&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that night you’ve changed your opinion about me, but I was happy being with you and unhappy not making love…I have never done such a thing – one night stand – but you were very special and I don’t know why…in the morning when you woke up saying that you didn’t sleep well and that you just wanted to go I felt like a cheep woman, like i did something wrong and I thought you just want to escape and never see me again, that you’ll never come at 12:00 a clock in front of Sagrada Familia but then when I saw you I was very happy, but you were sad all day and I imagined a lot of things…&lt;br /&gt;When we arrived in front of the Cathedral you said that you’ll sit there because your feet kills you so I said that I’m going to take some pictures, then I didn’t realize that I went to far, I knew it that you’ll wait for me…I entered inside of the Cathedral to pray and to thank God for everything, for meeting you…and I realized that I want to take your hand and pray together so I came to find you so we can pray together in the house of God…but you wasn’t there anymore…I asked people about you using the photos from my camera, but nobody saw you…so, with tears in my eyes I looked for you…NOTHING…I was lost and lonely without you…I returned to the hotel thinking that you’ll come after me, that you’ll leave me a message, something, anything…but NOTHING…and I waited until late in the night to knock at my door…then I cried, I wanted to make love with you…in my mind was our night…I slept just for a short time…in the morning I asked the receptionist again, the same answer: NO.NOTHING…I walked until our first meeting place and I asked people about an bed &amp; breakfast close to S.Familia…I didn’t know anything and I asked about you using again the photo….NOTHING…I took the bus (travel bus) hopping to find you, to see you on the street…but nothing…my eyes hurt me searching you in every person on the street…I search on the internet to find an email address or smth but I didn’t find anything, only famous persons with your name…I search for the flights, to come to the airport, but were to many flights on that hour for Paris and I thought that nobody will tell me private information…again NOTHING…lost, tired and confused I gave up…&lt;br /&gt;Then…the Barcelona was empty without you…&lt;br /&gt;I went to my cousin in Madrid with one thought: to find you on the internet, to find something about you, to tell you the truth... and I searched a lot, you can’t imagine how many hours and …NOTHING…and then I found you on Facebook, or somebody that looked like you, I recognized the position of your body, your hair styling (I can’t explain very well, but I prayed and felt to be you)…I hoped…but I kept searching…to many information, to many persons…no answer to my messages...how disappointed I was…and then you finally reply to me...how happy you made me...&lt;br /&gt;I am not writing you a fairytale, is my story after I lost you, our story…I’m telling you my truth, what was in my heart, my feelings, what is still in my heart…maybe is better not saying all these things…MAYBE…I don’t know…but I can’t hide my feelings…I don’t want to hide them anymore…&lt;br /&gt;I know you are worried about your father and I am very sorry for the situation, I’ll pray for him, for his wealth, I know how important is for you…&lt;br /&gt;And I know you have your plans, your life and that between us are thousands of kilometers but I must tell you my feelings, the truth inside of me, I can’t lie to myself…then you know better…&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want to say BIG WORDS, but I’ll tell them even if you’ll say to me that I was just an adventure and nothing more, even if you’ll never write me again…but you MUST KNOW that I’m ready to leave everything for you, to change my life, to start a new life only to be with you, I’m feeling that I’ve been waited for you all my life…BIG and HARD WORDS…I know…maybe I’m crazy…but it’s exactly what I’m feeling…the rest doesn’t matter cause what is everything without love???...&lt;br /&gt;I’m sorry if I said something wrong…if I scared you…but I’ve lost you one time and I don’t want to loose you again because not saying what I’m feeling…maybe I’ll  be ridiculously but doesn’t matter… if you wont reply I’ll understand…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"I believe that two people are connected at the heart, and it doesn't matter what you do, or who you are or where you live; there are no boundaries or barriers if two people are destined to be together." - Julia Roberts&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-5825642287631521965?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/5825642287631521965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=5825642287631521965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5825642287631521965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5825642287631521965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/07/letterto-you.html' title='Letter...to you'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SlzlzH--idI/AAAAAAAAAGg/gYqKoaIHAnk/s72-c/100_4610.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-4603092541982779962</id><published>2009-07-14T13:07:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T14:59:36.080+02:00</updated><title type='text'>O masina ?</title><content type='html'>sa stii ca sunt bine, nu-ti face griji,deja nu ma mai preocup pentru lucruri care chiar nu merita…nu am facut de fiecare data decat sa-mi deschid sufletul, sa-l pun pe tava unor persoane care s-au dovedit a nu fi la inaltimea presupunerilor mele…sau poate imi place mie sa cred ca fiecare esec se datoreaza faptului ca sunt ei cei orbi…cine stie…probabil ca nimic nu este intamplator cum spui tu, desi am ajuns sa nu mai cred aceste lucruri, cred ca tine doar de noroc si de destin si poate asa cum spuneai si tu mai demult destinul meu este de ai schimba pe ceilalti, de ai face fericiti, lasandu-ma pe mine aceeasi persoana si suferind mereu…incep sa ma obisnuiesc cu aceasta idee, incep sa cred ca acesta este scopul meu, si asa incepe sa doara mai putin…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singura intalnire care nu a fost intamplatoare este cu siguranta a noastra, caci indiferent cat de mult suferim fiecare dintre noi, suntem fericiti impreuna, asa in relatia pe care o avem noi…de cele mai multe ori imi spui lucruri pe care le stiu si nu ma deranjeaza ca le spui, le evit pur si simplu ca sa nu ma mai doara atat de tare….Si indiferent de ceea ce s-ar intampla tu ai sa ramai mereu acelasi in inima mea, nu-ti imagina ca am sa pot uita vreodata ca ai fost gata sa accepti... persoane ca tine sunt unice sau una la un milion asa ca...nu-ti port dragostea pe care ai vrea-o tu dar esti special pt mine, pentru ca esti o persoana deosebita chiar daca tu nu vrei sa accepti asta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mail-ul pe care i l-am scris lui P ar fi mutat si muntii din loc, eu am primit asa un mail poate o singura data in viata: de la tine, si am inteles ca poate si el este ca si mine, daca nu s-a indragostit nu conteaza cate in luna si in stele ii scrie una...si ce sacrificii este dispusa sa faca... desi impresia mea era alta, m-am inselat se pare, sau poate nu are curajul sa ia o decizie, alta decat cea pe care o are acum in minte...&lt;br /&gt;Traieste clipa!!!! Aceasta este deviza dupa care am sa traiesc, nimic mai mult, poate am sa devin o masina, dar oare nu sunt toti ceilalti masini? Cum sa traiesti intre masini daca nu esti si tu o masina? Poate ar trebui sa scimb celelalte masini, dar nu mai am puterea necesara, cred ca este mai simplu sa devin eu una...decat invers...am renuntat? Poate ca da,poate ca iau doar o pauza...nu mai stiu&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-4603092541982779962?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/4603092541982779962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=4603092541982779962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4603092541982779962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4603092541982779962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/07/o-masina.html' title='O masina ?'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-8347246727034777203</id><published>2009-06-18T21:27:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T22:23:49.551+02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Mistere Venetiene" la Milano</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SjqiQ6bUkBI/AAAAAAAAAGY/eYr4twhq0iI/s1600-h/100_3980.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SjqiQ6bUkBI/AAAAAAAAAGY/eYr4twhq0iI/s320/100_3980.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348765918901342226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visez cu ochii deschisi...la sperante,vacanta,munca,la cuvinte nerostite,gesturi inabusite,lacrimi revarsate...la viata mea...la cartea pe care o citesc,la persoanajele ei, si am certitudinea ca nu vreau sa merg acasa,nu vreau sa ajung din nou in fata calculatorului ca singurul mod de refugiu,de amagire,de a nu mai fi singura...continui sa raman in metropolitana cu gandul la centrul orasului si continui sa citesc absorbita de fiecare pagina,de fiecare intamplare,oftez,zambesc si ma intristez,traiesc odata cu personajele mele...traiesc intr-o Venezie a secolului al-XIV-lea imbracata intr-o rochie lunga si alergand cu teama pe strazile inguste si intortocheate,labirintul constiintei mele,al sufletului ranit si revindecat...unde as putea citi linistita? in Piazza del Duomo? prea multa lume,prea mult zgomot,prea multa agitatie pentru gandurile si personajele mele...soarele inca isi mai arata fata fierbinte si trec cu repeziciune prin Galerii,nu vad pe nimeni,nu aud nimic si trec mai departe cu gandul la mine,la cartea mea...ajung si ma nelinistesc,nu vad nici un loc unde mi-as putea continua lectura, apoi vad un loc ce se elibereaza pe o banca,ma asez timid si incep sa citesc...oamnenii se aseaza,pleaca si vin,altii si altii,eu continui sa citesc;banca de piatra are atata caldura acumulata incat o simt fierbinte si dupa un timp simt urme de transpiratie siroind pe spate,dar continui sa citesc...ma intrerupe brusc o mogaldeata care se intinde spre cartea mea,ridic privirea si intalnesc doi ochi rotunzi si mari pe un chip bucalat,angelic,are parul blond si cret si-si intinde amandoua manutele spre mine,dornica parca sa-mi fure lumea,sa-mi ataraga atentia...pentru o secunda mi-o imaginez pe EA si ii intind mana,imi zambeste si alearga grabita sa prinda un porumbel,ii aud chicotelile pline de fericire,de inocenta, dar vreau sa continui sa citesc,nu vreau sa incep sa plang rapusa de amintiri...&lt;br /&gt;Piazza della Scala...citesc despre vremurile culturale ale unei Venetii de mult apuse,la Milano...cat de ciudat si de minunat este sentimentul...timpul trece fara sa-mi dau seama,oamenii,soarele...Realizez insa ca am obosit,ma dor ochii iar ochelarii devin neputinciosi,creierul meu nu mai reuseste sa mearga mai departe,ma horatasc sa plec,oricum nu reusesc sa mai citesc un cuvant dar sa mai inteleg o fraza...patrund din nou in Galerii si-mi ridic privirea, ma cuprinde o stare de euforie si de fericire,vad atintite asupra mea ochii statuilor inaltate pe peretii Galeriei,ochi de femei,barbati,au parul lung,iar ele isi dezvaluie silueta si sanii,formeaza un culoar care se termina cu o cupola imensa de sticla si cu picturile anotimpurilor in cele patru puncte cardinale,si-mi dau seama ca traiesc istorie,ca pasesc intr-un alt timp,in alte vremuri...apoi timpul se opreste,...prietenul si dusmanul meu timpul,doar el imortalizat in toate fotografiile mele,ca si cum mi-as dori sa-l opresc,sa-l conduc...cat de naiva sunt,parca as avea varsta copilariei...ma bucur de zgomot,de lume,de cei care trec pe langa mine fiecare cu povestea lui,cu nelinistile,preocuparile,cu lumi diferite...&lt;br /&gt;Patru baieti incep sa cante la instrumentele lor,au trei viori si un acordeon si canta Dumnezeieste muzica clasica,aud rasunand acordurile lui Vivaldi si ma opresc sa-i ascult,isi castiga existenta asa cum stiu mai bine,asa cum i-a inzestrat Dumnezeu,imi dau seama ca nu au facut nicio scoala speciala de muzica, nu au mai mult de 16 ani si stiu ca sunt romani,i-am auzit odata cand am trecut pe langa ei,...intr-o zi cand incercau sa imparta intre ei ceva de mancare...si am vazut lumea care ii asculta cu admiratie,iar recunostinta lor era cele cateva monede aruncate in cutia uneia dintre viori...ce viata...ce traire...&lt;br /&gt;Mi-am purtat personajele in gand pana acasa si am spus: Iti multumesc pentru tot ceea ce faci pentru mine!!! Sunt o femeie norocoasa si fericita in tristetea si singuratatea mea!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-8347246727034777203?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/8347246727034777203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=8347246727034777203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8347246727034777203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8347246727034777203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/06/mistere-venetiene-la-milano.html' title='&quot;Mistere Venetiene&quot; la Milano'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SjqiQ6bUkBI/AAAAAAAAAGY/eYr4twhq0iI/s72-c/100_3980.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-9034471144091501024</id><published>2009-06-15T22:28:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T22:32:26.152+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Anonim...</title><content type='html'>"Trupul ei e învelit în acest ambalaj ameţitor, e halat, tricou, pijama…rochia de bal? E ca un cadou surpriză numai pentru mine.Nu mă pot hotări dacă voi fi nevoit să îl rup, să îl tai sau să îl desfac cu răbdare. Deasupra liniile urcă ferm, apoi se arcuiesc plăcut pe sâni urmând sa se desfacă..armonios pe umeri si gatul de lebaduţă. Aici pielea apare brusc şi năucitor. Vreau să o sărut pe umărul drept dezgolit, acum fară bretea ,dunga ce ii punea mai mult in valoare stralucirea.. Mă apropii şi adulmec ca o hienă. Îmi amintesc parfumul cunoscut. Acela al aşternuturilor mele, dimineţi întregi în absenţa ei, când pot să jur că e lângă mine. Pielea ei e ca un altar în faţa căruia îngenunchez. Uleiurile sfinte cu care îşi acoperă trupul sunt ca o rugăciune nerostită. Undeva e ascunsă aroma aceea de cafea şi de ceaiuri exotice .Sau atingerea accea fantastică a nisipului ce există doar pe o plajă în imaginaţia mea. …. Buzele perfect conturate, cea de jos e mai carnalizată . Probabil că în ea îşi ascunde aroma săruturilor. Gustul acela pe care uneori îl simt la nesfârşit. Îmi aminteşte de îngheţată cu vanilie,căpsuni şi rom. Poate şi puţină scorţisoară.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aici stau eu, împietrit în propria mea piele. În faţa mea, muscându-şi buza de jos, accea care îi ghidează săruturile, e ea, această Venus reală şi deopotrivă himerică. Mainile ei desenează un gest scurt şi ferm. Fundiţa de pe cadou alunecă pe coapse, pe glezne şi pluteşte imprecis pe covor.Ceva ….cade de pe umeri. Pentru un moment, infinit de lung în memeoria mea, se opreşte deasupra acelei convexităţi perfecte a sânilor. Apoi, ca o ceaţă amorfă, se închină la picioarele ei.. Trupul ei străluceşte ca o zi de primavară însorită……"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ii multumesc anonimului care mi-a daruit aceste randuri...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-9034471144091501024?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/9034471144091501024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=9034471144091501024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/9034471144091501024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/9034471144091501024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/06/anonim.html' title='Anonim...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-4981275456342634174</id><published>2009-06-14T21:43:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T22:06:38.820+02:00</updated><title type='text'>O speranta...in fiecare calatorie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SjVYHjjOVnI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/r528JCIqF3Y/s1600-h/100_3969.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SjVYHjjOVnI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/r528JCIqF3Y/s320/100_3969.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347277019397641842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In timpul saptamanii nu-mi dau seama cum trece timpul,aceeasi monotonie:serviciu,casa,cumparaturi eventual un film la cinematograf,dar sfarsiturile de saptamana ma inebunesc...am de ales intre a ramane in casa si fata computerului si a-mi plange de mila sau a iesi singura sa vad minunatiile care ma inconjoara.Si pentru ca viata este scurta si nu-mi permit sa-mi bat joc de ea, aleg aproape de fiecare data a doua varianta...este cea mai buna si mai frumoasa dar sa nu credeti ca este si cea mai usoara.Cand o experimentezi prima si a doua oara este chiar placuta,ai timp de tine,de gandurile tale,nu-ti face nimeni programul,poti ramane cat vrei in fata oricarui obiectiv fara ca cineva sa te traga de maneca ca trebuie sa mergeti mai departe,fara sa i se faca cuiva sete,foame,dureri de picioare,cap sau alte organe,ii poti admira in liniste pe cei din jurul tau,ii poti asculta...dar dupa o perioada privind in jur iti dai seama ca tu esti de fiecare data singur,ca nu poti comenta cu nimeni frumusetile pe care le vezi,ca nu-ti face nimeni nicio fotografie(decat daca ceri la cate un strain in jurul tau),ca nu te poti bucura de savoarea unei inghetate sau sa razi din toata inima la o gluma bine spusa in momentele in care moleseala isi face loc in toate oasele,ca nu te poti plange de foame,de sete,ca nu te poti sprijini pe nimeni in cazul in care oboseala incepe sa-si ceara tributul...si atunci o umbra fina de tristete incepe sa-si faca loc pe chip,privesti in jur si-i vezi pe cei de langa tine fericiti,in doi,in patru..in familie,auzi strigatul unui copil,ii vezi fata fericita...si realizezi: SUNT totusi SINGURA...dar nu-mi permit luxul de a ramane mult timp asa,imi dau seama ca sunt totusi norocoasa,ca viata mi-a dat mai mult decat altora,si atunci II MULTUMESC...si MERG mai departe, cu gandul si speranta ca intr-o zi poate voi intalni inca o persoana ca si mine:curajoasa sa plece singura,dornica sa se intoarca pentru tot restul vietii alaturi de cineva...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's life,that's all the people say. &lt;br /&gt;You're riding high in April, &lt;br /&gt;Shot down in May &lt;br /&gt;But I know I'm gonna change that tune, &lt;br /&gt;When I am back on top,back on top in June. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that's life,and as funny as it may seem &lt;br /&gt;Some people get their kikcs &lt;br /&gt;Stompin'on a dream, &lt;br /&gt;But i don't let it, let it get me down, &lt;br /&gt;Cause this fine ol'world it keeps spinning around. &lt;br /&gt;I've been a puppet,a pauper,a pirate, &lt;br /&gt;A poet, a pown and a king. &lt;br /&gt;I've been up and down and over and out &lt;br /&gt;And I know one thing: &lt;br /&gt;Each time I find myself,flat on my face, &lt;br /&gt;I pick myself up and get back in the race.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-4981275456342634174?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/4981275456342634174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=4981275456342634174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4981275456342634174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4981275456342634174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-sperantain-fiecare-calatorie.html' title='O speranta...in fiecare calatorie'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SjVYHjjOVnI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/r528JCIqF3Y/s72-c/100_3969.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-7070899823920062365</id><published>2009-06-13T14:43:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T15:33:45.710+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Nimic despre dragoste..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SjOjo3oGv_I/AAAAAAAAAGI/HxuJZKqIQx0/s1600-h/100_3412.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SjOjo3oGv_I/AAAAAAAAAGI/HxuJZKqIQx0/s320/100_3412.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346797105141170162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Am spus,probabil,de prea multe ori,&lt;te iubesc&gt;,unor oameni pe care,poate nici nu i-am iubit cu adevarat,nici nu m-au inteles,sau nu m-au ascultat.Dar tie nu vreau sa-ti vorbesc nimic despre dragostea mea,ci despre recunostinta pe care ti-o port.Despre cata lumina lina aduci in viata mea,si cata frumusete.Despre cat de coplesita sunt de iubirea ta,pe care o simt neciobita si mandra,despre dorinta mea nebuneasca sa te port in mine,si sa te nasc,si sa te vad multiplicat la infinit pe pamant,pe tine,cel mai frumos,cel mai iubit,cel mai al meu dintre toate fapturile lumii.Despre miracolul ca dorinta mi s-a implinit..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All The Man That I Need"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to cry myself to sleep at night &lt;br /&gt;But that was all before he came &lt;br /&gt;I thought love had to hurt to turn out right &lt;br /&gt;But now he's here &lt;br /&gt;It's not the same, it's not the same &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He fills me up &lt;br /&gt;He gives me love &lt;br /&gt;More love than I've ever seen &lt;br /&gt;He's all I've got, &lt;br /&gt;He's all I've got in this world &lt;br /&gt;But he's all the man that I need &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the morning when I kiss his eyes &lt;br /&gt;He takes me down and rocks me slow &lt;br /&gt;And in the evening when the moon is high &lt;br /&gt;He holds me close and won't let go &lt;br /&gt;He won't let go&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-7070899823920062365?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/7070899823920062365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=7070899823920062365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7070899823920062365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7070899823920062365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/06/nimic-despre-dragoste.html' title='Nimic despre dragoste..'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SjOjo3oGv_I/AAAAAAAAAGI/HxuJZKqIQx0/s72-c/100_3412.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-4652269030722048288</id><published>2009-06-13T14:06:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T14:43:06.579+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce cautam?</title><content type='html'>Ne ascundem timizi in spatele monitoarelor,inventam profile,adaugam fotografiile cele mai bune,care sa arate partea cea mai frumoasa din noi,purtam conversatii cu persoane pe care nu le-am vazut niciodata,acceptam dialoguri fericiti ca ne putem ascunde sub aceasta masca numita "internet-computer" si ne reinventam...pentru ce? apoi constatam cu stupuoare ca daca iesim pe strada nu indraznim sa ridicam privirea la mai mult de ceea ce inseamna picioarele noastre,ca sa nu mai vorbim de un zambet sau de un salut...dar continuam sa ne amagim...Pana si cei carora natura le-a daruit o frumusete deosebita isi adauga fotografiile pe diferite site-uri mereu in cautare de cate ceva...selectionam si restrctionam in functie de ceea ce vedem pe ecran,dar nu ne dam seama ca suntem orbi cautand la infinit ceea ce nu vom gasi niciodata...viata se traieste in realitate,nu in aceasta realitate virtuala...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-4652269030722048288?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/4652269030722048288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=4652269030722048288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4652269030722048288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4652269030722048288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/06/ce-cautam.html' title='Ce cautam?'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-9143607588552833736</id><published>2009-06-01T10:20:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T14:42:07.672+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Parfumul minunat al ploii...</title><content type='html'>Intreaga zi norii s-au incapatanat sa troneze cerul, nu au vrut sa se imprastie,au ramas uniti ca pentru eternitate, iar cand au inceput sa nu se mai inteleaga...au aparut primii stropi de ploaie. La inceput timiziapoi din ce in ce mai naprasnic. M-am asezat in fata geamului ca sa o admir, cu rochia ei lunga tranparenta, cu gratiile ei reci, tot ceea atingea devenea mai verde, mai frumos, mai infloritor...purtata in lumea fascinanta a imaginatiei am simtit ceva cald pe piciorul drept, langa mine statea cu ochii plini de mirare cainele,Fix, vroia sa-mi comunice probabil ceva...l-am intrebat cu jumatate de gura ce pot face pentru el iar cu ochii lui si mai mirati ma fixa, apoi l-am intrebat daca vrea sa iasa afara si brusc la auzul acestor cuvinte s-a ridicat si a inceput sa dea din coada, am inteles atunci totul...&lt;br /&gt; - Esti sigur ca vrei sa iesim? Afara ploua. Ne vom uda amandoi iar tu ai sa te murdaresti. Dar el continua fericit sa dea din coada explicandu-mi parca ca prea putin ii pasa de ploaia de afara.&lt;br /&gt;Am luat zgarda si ne-am indreptat spre iesire. Am deschis usa si am simtit cum aerul rece si umed imi patrunde adanc in plamani, mirosul placut al ploii imi mangaia narile.Am insiprat profund ca si cum ar fi ultima gura de aer care-mi este data...Fix s-a oprit in usa privind nedumerit peisajul si ploaia, s-a intors si m-a privit in ochi&lt;br /&gt; - Ti-am spus ca ploua, ce ti-ai imaginat ca te pacalesc?&lt;br /&gt;A iesit apoi repede, probabil nevoile fiziologice erau deja mult prea puternice incat o amarata de ploaie sa-l poata impiedica. Eu am continuat sa stau nemiscata pe tocul de usa simtind cum trage firul dupa el...apoi s-a oprit, firul se terminase, a latrat de doua ori anuntandu-ma ca acea zona de curte nu-l multumeste si ca va trebui sa ma misc putin, sa ies cu el in ploaie. L-am urmat tacuta, parfumul ploii ma fascinase, asa ca nu mai eram capabila sa reactionez...Magnolia trona linistita in mijlocul curtii,plina de viata,plina de energia fiecarei picaturi de ploaie...&lt;br /&gt;Am continuat sa inspir si sa expir pana am simtit o durere in plamani, dar ma simteam atat de bine...zgomotul ploii cazand si cateva pasari ciripind,la inceput usor apoi din ce in ce mai puternic ca si cum s-ar fi certat,erau singurele care-mi deranjau linistea...si gandurile mele care curgeau valuri, valuri, lipsa ta, singuratatea,golul din mine,nepasarea,aroganta, orgoliile,compromisurile,noptile in care te caut cu privirea,mainile mele cercetand locul gol din dreapta mea...ceva cald se prelingea pe obraji si nu era ploaia,ea avea un alt statut mai rece...nu-mi dau seama cat am reusit sa stau in acel loc dar am inceput sa aud un latrat frenetic...l-am privit si brusc mi-am dat seama ca eu stateam in ploaie iar el era adapostit sub streasina casei, ma privea cu ochi blanzi si parca-mi intelegea suferinta, ma implora sa intram in casa tragandu-ma in directia usii...ploaia imi patrunsese pana la piele,imi era frig dar parfumul ei adanc intrat in suflet nu mai vroiam sa-l las sa plece,imi aducea aminte de cel al pielii tale si ma incapatanam sa nu-i mai dau drumul, ma obseda in fiecare seara pana intr-o dimineata cand nu mi l-am mai amintit...de atunci am inceput sa-l inventez in fiecare zi,noapte,secunda,il caut in fiecare persoana,obiect,in mine...dar nu am mai reusit sa-l gasesc...&lt;br /&gt;Parfumul ploii...rece,patrunzator,grav,puternic,bland,aspru,dulce...ca si tine,ca si parfumul pielii tale.&lt;br /&gt;Din nou in fata ferestrei stau si admir ploaia,o parte mi se prelinge din par, alta o tin in suflet...caldura de pe picior imi confirma ca, cainele s-a asezat linistit langa mine...ma priveste cu ochii lui blanzi,stiu ca-mi intelege suferinta dar nu-mi mai spune nimic...&lt;br /&gt;Continui sa o privesc si-i simt parfumul adanc in suflet si pe piele...Obosesc si atipesc cateva momente, prin vis imi tin micuta in brate, ii simt pielea fina si calda, mirosul ei cel bland, de lapte cald si pe tine privindu-ne cu ochi calzi,protectori...un vis frumos,un cosmar in realitate...apoi simt pe obrazul stang o caldura puternica si o lumina care-mi deranjeaza ochii,suparata incerc sa reactionez contra acelui ceva/cineva care-mi deranjeaza linistea,deschid ochii si vinovatul este EL, Soarele.&lt;br /&gt; - Ai reusit! imi spun incet ca pentru sine, ca si cum nu as vrea sa deranjez pe cineva.&lt;br /&gt;Printre norii grei si-a facut loc ca sa se poata arata inainte de a merge la culcare, ca si cum ar vrea sa-mi reaminteasca ca exista,sa nu uit vreodata ca exista...ploua din nou,de aceasta data cu soare...realizez cat de bine pot exista impreuna si-mi spun:&lt;br /&gt;"You are strong and brave and you can get through this.We shared some beautiful times together and you made my life...you made my life.I have no regrets.But i am just a chapter in your life-there will be many more.Remember our wonderful memories,but please don't be afraid to make some more"&lt;br /&gt;Ploaia avea mirosul pielii voastre...pe maini am inca miros de lapte cald...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astazi este 1 Iunie si mi-ar fi placut sa-ti pot spune LA Multi Ani mica mea printesa !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.trilulilu.ro/cristinaildi31/54400be7ddbc3c&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-9143607588552833736?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/9143607588552833736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=9143607588552833736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/9143607588552833736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/9143607588552833736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/06/parfumul-minunat-al-ploii.html' title='Parfumul minunat al ploii...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-7246861332162376499</id><published>2009-05-31T22:42:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T01:22:36.801+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Scrisoare catre puiutul meu...</title><content type='html'>Draga mea,&lt;br /&gt;iti spun asa pentru ca mi-as fi dorit sa fii o fetita frumosa cu ochi albastri, ca ai tatalui tau, sa zambesti mereu si sa fii fericita...dar nu ai vrut sa te arati niciodata, poate iti era teama, poate nu ai vrut sa ma dezamagesti, dar cum ai fi putut oare? te-as fi iubit oricum, doar erai parte din mine...Poate ai sa ma intrebi de ce fetita, cand toata lumea prefera un baietel caci nu sufera atat de mult in viata,sunt mai puternici si mai rezistenti...dar am sa-ti raspund fetita pentru ca indiferent de suferinte, de chinuri, doar ele sunt capabile sa dea nastere unei alte vieti...si te-as fi imbracat doar in rochite, si te-as fi rasfatat si te-as fi invatat sa fii cocheta si finuta...si mi-ar fi placut sa ai curajul tatalui tau si zambetul meu cand sunt fericita...&lt;br /&gt;Cata putere mi-a trebuit sa-ti scriu aceste randuri...cand ai plecat am vrut sa plec cu tine, ce rost mai avea sa mai traiesc? si ai stiut asta si nu mi-ai dat voie...de ce ai plecat? ma faceai atat de fericita...te rog sa ma ierti, stiu ca sunt singura vinovata, am lasat gandurile mele si suferinta mea sa le simti si tu, te-am facut partasa la gandurile mele negre, la lacrimile mele...sa stii ca nu esti vinoavata cu nimic,tatal tau era doar impotriva mea, impotriva timpului...dar sunt convinsa ca nu avea nimic impotriva ta, cum ar fi putut daca in mintea si in sufletului lui tu nu existai???...te-am rugat in fiecare secunda sa nu pleci, de ce atata teama? te-as fi iubit cat pentru doi, iar lumea te-ar fi iubit cu siguranta, cine nu ar putea sa iubeasca un copil ?...tu devenisei fericirea mea si as fi facut orice sacrificiu pentru tine...ti-as fi pus lumea la picioare...&lt;br /&gt;Ma vezi ca plang si acum? sunt mai nefericita, nu s-a schimbat nimic in bine ca ai plecat, ba din contra, imi este tot mai greu fara tine, imi lipsesc conversatiile noastre,orele de dans si muzica,plimbarile prin magazine cand iti aratam ce ti-as cumpara, inghetatele cu fructe din fiecare seara, raul de dimineata...lacrimile mele de suferinta nu erau datorita tie...iar suferinta nu are margini.&lt;br /&gt;Imi cer iertare si ma rog sa-ti fie mai bine...plang cu lacrimi de sange si DA recunosc sunt un om slab,sunt "nimic" fara tine, si mai vreau sa stii ca te-am facut cu toata dragostea pe care o pot purta in suflet si eram fericita...&lt;br /&gt;...iar daca ai fi fost baietel, te-as fi iubit la fel de mult, sa nu te indoiesti de asta, mi-ar fi fost mai greu sa inteleg ce-ti place sau ce nu-ti place, dar sunt convinsa ca as fi reusit pana la urma....cate ti-as mai scrie dar nu reusesc sa-mi stapanesc lacrimile, nu reusesc sa scot la iveala acea parte care usor,usor moare...cel care ar trebui sa ma asculte si sa ma elibereze, nu este dispus sa asculte "prostii nefondate", iar daca ai sa vorbesti cu el te rog spune-i sa lase orgoliile deoparte si sa puna o singura intrebare: "Vrei sa-mi povestesti cum a fost? vreau sa te ascult, imi pasa..."&lt;br /&gt;Puiutul meu drag,ma asez in genunchi si-ti cer iertare...&lt;br /&gt;Te iubesc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SiMREZoCBAI/AAAAAAAAAGA/TxDDTaYlsYo/s1600-h/100_2845.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SiMREZoCBAI/AAAAAAAAAGA/TxDDTaYlsYo/s320/100_2845.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342132350287479810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-7246861332162376499?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/7246861332162376499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=7246861332162376499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7246861332162376499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7246861332162376499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/05/scrisoare-catre-puiutul-meu.html' title='Scrisoare catre puiutul meu...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SiMREZoCBAI/AAAAAAAAAGA/TxDDTaYlsYo/s72-c/100_2845.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-6508369935046830871</id><published>2009-05-29T20:44:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T01:30:36.064+02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Simt ca este barbatul pe care l-am asteptat toata viata..."</title><content type='html'>Cat de mult mi-as fi dorit sa spun eu aceste cuvinte si el sa-mi raspunda in acelasi mod, dar din pacate pentru mine nu sunt cuvintele mele...mi-as dori sa intru in Pamant de durere dar stiu ca impotriva destinului nu te poti pune, si pana la urma cine sunt eu ca sa cer mai mult? cine sunt eu ca sa judec? &lt;br /&gt;Incepe sa-ti placa de cineva,iesiti impreuna,apoi iesi impreuna cu prietena ta iar el se indragosteste nebuneste de ea, si ea la fel...cu ce pot eu condamna destinul? cu ce ii pot condamna pe ei?...cu nimic...pot doar sa sufar in tacere, pot doar sa plang caci asta stiu cel mai bine sa fac in ultimul timp...aceasta este menirea mea, tot ceea ce ating pentru mine devine scrum ca sa devina fericire suprema (paradis) pentru cei din jurul meu...amicul si confidentul meu imi spune "cine stie? poate fericirea e dupa colt...trebuie sa intorci capul si sa o vezi..dar daca ai ochii plini de lacrimi? cum sa o vezi?"...oh dragul meu prieten, cat de mult mi-as dori sa o vad chiar si printre lacrimi, mi-as sterge toate lacrimile, le-as lasa sa se usuce, as sterge orice urma si as fi fericita din nou, dar asta nu este pentru mine...probabil rolul meu este sa caut la nesfarsit si sa nu gasesc niciodata, un calator cu rucsacul in spate, un nomad fara casa, doar cu drumul lui...&lt;br /&gt;"Iubirea, las-o libera...daca e a ta, sta langa tine, daca a plecat, inseamna ca nu a fost niciodata a ta" - nu a fost niciodata a mea, si nici nu va fi, nu face parte din destinul meu...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-6508369935046830871?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/6508369935046830871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=6508369935046830871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6508369935046830871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6508369935046830871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/05/simt-ca-este-barbatul-pe-care-l-am.html' title='&quot;Simt ca este barbatul pe care l-am asteptat toata viata...&quot;'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-992059010325442478</id><published>2009-05-18T11:11:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T11:14:53.710+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Solo i miei pensieri...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/ShEm72KEU-I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Ijm20vJeqQM/s1600-h/100_2825.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/ShEm72KEU-I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Ijm20vJeqQM/s320/100_2825.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337089843002627042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am spus ca  nu am sa ma mai gandesc la nimeni si la nimic, ca nu am sa mai vreau sa iubesc pe nimeni, cautarile mele au incetat, nu mai sper ca voi intalni acea dragoste care sa-mi faca tot copul sa tremure, sufletul sa nu mai aiba liniste si noptile in care sa nu mai reusesc sa dorm...am spus GATA acestui chin, acestei suferinte...&lt;br /&gt;Nu trebuie sa ma mai intreb de ce barbatii cauta mereu sa cucuereasca mai multe femei in acelasi timp...poate acesta este modul in care ei isi demonstreaza ca pot cuceri lumea, ca sunt puternici, ca nimeni si nimic nu le sta in cale....toate lucrurile frumoase dureaza trei zile, cand mintea vrea insa sa hoinareasca poate dura si mai mult dar totul devine o iluzie, un mod in care ne place sa credem lucruri care nu se vor intampla niciodata, scenarii si nimic mai mult...&lt;br /&gt;Vreau sa renunt sa mai cred ca imi voi gasi sufletul pereche, lasa-ma sa intru pe aceasta cale si nimeni si nimic sa nu ma mai faca sa ma razgandesc, sa traiesc momentul, sa nu mai cunosc gelozia si sa nu mai am indoieli, deci sa nu mai iubesc...CHIAR imi doresc asta....&lt;br /&gt;Sunt o femeie atat de slaba ca si caracter, cum cineva mi-a acordat atentie, am inceput sa-mi fac sperante, sa cred ca ar putea exista ceva frumos...nu ai inteles ca nu poate exista nimic frumos, ca nu extista nimeni pe lumea asta care te-ar putea iubi si pe care sa-l iubesti ??? &lt;br /&gt;Trebuie sa las lucrurile sa mearga in directia deja stabilita fara sa ma gandesc prea mult, imi spun in fiecare zi ca nu trebuie sa mai analizez lucrurile de o mie de ori, ca daca nu m-as mai consuma atat poate as reusi sa realizez ceva frumos...trebuie sa invat bine aceste expresii care au legatura cu viata mea privata: NU ESTE TOATA LUMEA CA SI TINE si GANDESTI PREA MULT...cred ca sunt uneori prea romantica, cred ca-mi doresc prea repede ca cel de langa mine sa arda la fel ca si mine, 120% nu trebuie sa mai existe, sa lasam timpul sa treaca, de ce sa grabim lucrurile?, sa ne cunoastem, ....cata iubire trebuie sa ingradesc, trebuie sa o fac sa dispara, sa o consum in alte moduri...oare un barbat atinge fericirea suprema doar cand are o femeie langa el? Sau sunt doar eu acea care este fericita la maximum doar cand am langa mine un barbat?...cine stie...prea multe intrebari, prea multe ganduri, de ce trebuie sa-mi pese?...GATA...am decis: las lucrurile sa vina de la sine, distractie maxima, momente exploatate la maximum, oportunitati  prinse din zbor....OARE???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senza lei il tempo sembra strisciare&lt;br /&gt;passando più lento del solito&lt;br /&gt;senza lei chiamare un'altra&lt;br /&gt;mi sembra davvero qualcosa di stupido&lt;br /&gt;che vita inutile senza lei&lt;br /&gt;bevo fumando e poi mangio bocconi di piccole lacrime&lt;br /&gt;son diventato pensandoci bene anche un povero diavolo&lt;br /&gt;e se mi guardo allo specchio&lt;br /&gt;mi sembro più vecchio in un attimo&lt;br /&gt;chissà se impazzirò&lt;br /&gt;si può pure andar giù dal balcone&lt;br /&gt;dare un calcio più forte al portone&lt;br /&gt;ma non senti lo stesso dolore&lt;br /&gt;quel sapore di morte nel cuore&lt;br /&gt;se tu non ci sei&lt;br /&gt;Dove sei&lt;br /&gt;maledettissimo pezzo di stella&lt;br /&gt;cadendo hai colpito il mio cuore&lt;br /&gt;lo sai?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dove sei&lt;br /&gt;senza di te nella vita&lt;br /&gt;magari le altre bastavano&lt;br /&gt;per sopravvivere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dove sei&lt;br /&gt;se fossi stata un miraggio&lt;br /&gt;la bolla d'amore scoppiava in un attimo&lt;br /&gt;e poi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;senza te mi regalavo nei letti&lt;br /&gt;al momento di chi mi desidera&lt;br /&gt;potevo vivere così&lt;br /&gt;senza lei ho cominciato a vedere&lt;br /&gt;l'amore è qualcosa di cinico&lt;br /&gt;l'indifferenza è il vestito&lt;br /&gt;che metto ogni sera di solito&lt;br /&gt;ho quasi voglia di spegnere&lt;br /&gt;l'ultima fiamma dell'anima&lt;br /&gt;ma poi si arrabbia Dio&lt;br /&gt;la mia febbre continua a salire&lt;br /&gt;quanto male che sento nel cuore&lt;br /&gt;ho paura non voglio morire&lt;br /&gt;sono solo un vigliacco d'amore&lt;br /&gt;che vive di te&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dove sei&lt;br /&gt;maledettissimo pezzo di stella&lt;br /&gt;cadendo hai colpito il mio cuore&lt;br /&gt;lo sai?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dove sei&lt;br /&gt;senza di te nella vita&lt;br /&gt;magari le altre bastavano&lt;br /&gt;per sopravvivere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dove sei&lt;br /&gt;se fossi stato un miraggio&lt;br /&gt;la bolla d'amore scoppiava in un attimo&lt;br /&gt;e poi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;senza te mi regalavo nei letti&lt;br /&gt;al momento di chi mi desidera&lt;br /&gt;potevo vivere così&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/ShEmwXZXQEI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/3OUJGrdbA0c/s1600-h/100_2822.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/ShEmwXZXQEI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/3OUJGrdbA0c/s320/100_2822.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337089645766721602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-992059010325442478?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/992059010325442478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=992059010325442478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/992059010325442478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/992059010325442478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/05/solo-i-miei-pensieri.html' title='Solo i miei pensieri...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/ShEm72KEU-I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Ijm20vJeqQM/s72-c/100_2825.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-5191681494807974269</id><published>2009-05-12T09:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T09:18:07.566+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Singurul bastard din viata mea ai fost tu…</title><content type='html'>Singurul bastard din viata mea ai fost tu…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tot ceea ce era de scris despre suferinta mea am scris, sute de pagini, mii de cuvinte,nopti de nesomn, lacrimi, imagini, cosmaruri, urlete interioare si exterioare, nu a mai ramas nimic de spus, nimic de facut si cu toate astea golul din inima mea nu vrea sa dispara, bolovanul care-mi apasa pieptul, gheara care-mi strange inima… nu vor sa dispara. Lacrimile curg si doar zgomotul lor imi deranjeaza gandurile, linistea, cum as putea sa inving suferinta? Am sters toate mesajele de la tine,fotografiile, tot ce ar putea sa-mi mai aminteasca de tine, ca un coipl naiv,am crezut ca odata aruncata jucaria nu imi va mai face rau, aceste mesaje blestemate nu le mai citesc la propriu dar le vad unul cate unul cu ochii mintii, se succed rapid insirate ca pe un papirus si indiferent cat de mult incerc sa le fac sa dispara nu reusesc…acele cuvinte care mi-au facut atata bine, acum imi ard ochii, mintea, sufletul…&lt;br /&gt;Femeia puternica din mine nu mai este, ai distrus-o, nu a mai fost asa niciodata, si vrea ca suferinta sa inceteze…ai fost parte din mine, erai in interiorul meu si eram fericita, chiar daca nu erai langa noi, chiar daca nu te gandeai la noi, eram fericite…&lt;br /&gt;Nu pot sa sciu nici macar povestea noastra,asa cum am promis, nu mai pot sa o scriu, ma face sa ma zvarcolesc de durere, fiecare cuvant imi arde ochii,sufletul,mintea, mana refuza sa scrie, am plumb in degete iar unghiile s-au transformat in sange, sunt carne vie…NU POT…desi stiu ca daca as termina-o as reusi sa scap de suferinta,totul ar disparea,m-as linisti, as avea din nou inima curata, dar NU POT, suferinta este prea mare, ar trebui sa scriu despre EA, de cum era sa mor, de golul imens ramas dupa plecare, ar trebui sa scriu despre momentele de groaza,despre demoni, ar trebui sa ma eliberez, dar nu reusesc…URLU si in interiorul meu nu mai este nimeni si nimic, doar suferinta…lacrimi de sange…&lt;br /&gt;Ce stii tu despre suferinta? Iti imaginezi ca umbland cu una si cu alta in timp ce-i dai mesaje fostei, suferi? Asta numesti tu suferinta? Ca te-a abandonat satula sa-ti mai suporte nazurile, si vazand ca a plecat ranindu-ti orgoliul masculin ai zis ca suferi? Suferinta este atunci cand pierzi o parte din tine, cand  taraindu-te in genunchi intr-o balta de sange invoci puterile supreme sa te ia si pe tine doar sa scapi…cand nu mai ai voce sa urlii, cand de durere fizica si psihica ai vrea sa te inghita Pamantul…cand iti dai seama ca cel caruia i-a placut  (caci nu ai facut-o de una singura) nici macar nu te intreaba ce mai faci, daca te simti bine…cand iti aduce cuvinte calomnioase fara ca macar sa intrebe care sunt “argumentele tale”, fara sa gresesti cu nimic, doar sa iubesti. Sa nu mai incerci vreodata in viata ta sa-mi vorbesti despre incredere cand tu umblai cu o alta femeie in timp ce eu ma gandeam sa renunt la viata mea profesionala doar ca sa raman cu tine, sa nu mai indraznesti sa-mi vorbesti vreodata in viata ta de respect cand am gasit in baie samponul ei si tu mi-ai spus cu non-salanta ca: “este un experiment, am sa-ti spun daca-mi reuseste” sau cand am gasit in patul in care nu ai folosit de buna-voie prezervativul, un fir de par lung saten si mi-ai spus ca sunt paranoica, daca as fi cautat mai bine prin dulapuri probabil as fi gasit haine de-ale ei aruncate pe cine stie unde… Nici macar un caine nu te musca atunci cand simte ca suferi…dar tu nu esti caine, tu nu esti nimic…nu ai suflet, nu ai iubit pe nimeni niciodata, ai doar orgoliul ranit ca cineva ar putea in viata asta sa te abandoneze, pe tine, supremul, marele…&lt;br /&gt;De ce atata ura? Pentru ca-mi dau seama cu cata seninatate ti-ai batut joc de mine, si sa nu-mi spui ca am acceptat desi stiam ca nu ma iubesti…m-ai amagit pana in ultima clipa cu teatrul tau, cu jocul de-a cuvintele, de-a gesturile, cu te rog nu pleca mi-ar placea sa mai ramai cu mine in seara asta, cu noptile in care ma tineai in brate doar ca sa nu fii singur….a fost, este si va fi intotdeauna vorba doar de tine, in viziunea ta tu esti cel  mai bun, mai frumos, mai destept, nu exista altcineva mai bun ca tine, prietenul tau este doar umbra ta, vrei doar sa-ti dovedesti cat de bun esti tu, il umilesti purtandu-l dupa tine doar ca sa-i mai aduci un “ argument” care te face pe tine, si doar pe tine superior tuturor…si eu ma hraneam cu fiecare zambet de-al tau, cu fiecare mangaiere, cu fiecare privire…&lt;br /&gt;Nu m-ai intrebat niciodata cum ma simt, desi stiai in ce situatie sunt, asteptai sa-ti cer ajutorul, mi-ai fi intins o mana doar daca m-ai fi vazut murind si atunci probabil ai fi asteptat sa-ti spun: “am nevoie de tine, te rog, ajuta-ma !”…din pacate omenia nu se invata la scoala si imi dau seama ca o critici degeaba pe mama ta ca priveste acel post de televiziune, nu esti mai prejos cu nimic fata de personajele care se perinda pe acolo, in mintea ta de om cu studii universitare un copil este un bastard pentru ca un tata in cunostinta de cauza nu a vrut sa-si puna prezervativul, trebuia sa strigi VIOL!!!...nu ai sa te trezesti niciodata la realitate pentru ca traiesti in intuneric…ai sa te tarasti ca un sarpe, in genunchi, si nu o te mai creada nimeni,niciodata…&lt;br /&gt;Ai otravit tot ceea ce ai atins, ai distrus tot in jurul tau, ai ars…cat timp va mai trece pana am sa reusesc sa vorbesc despre suferinta mea, cat timp va mai trece pana nu am sa o mai visez in fiecare noapte???&lt;br /&gt;Asa ca :&lt;br /&gt;Singurul BASTARD din viata mea AI FOST TU…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-5191681494807974269?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/5191681494807974269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=5191681494807974269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5191681494807974269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5191681494807974269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/05/singurul-bastard-din-viata-mea-ai-fost.html' title='Singurul bastard din viata mea ai fost tu…'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-2216191989734109742</id><published>2009-05-08T14:41:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T14:42:59.893+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Drum crucial</title><content type='html'>Un prieten mi-a scris intr-un mail aceasta poezie. Multumesc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drum crucial &lt;br /&gt;de ION Minulescu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pe scara sufletului meu&lt;br /&gt;M-am întâlnit cu bunul Dumnezeu -&lt;br /&gt;Eu coboram mâhnit din conştiinţa mea,&lt;br /&gt;Iar El urca surâzător spre ea!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Şi ne-am oprit la jumătatea scării&lt;br /&gt;Încrucişându-ne în clipa-ntâmpinării&lt;br /&gt;Săgeţile perechilor de ochi ca de-obicei -&lt;br /&gt;Ah! ochii Lui cum seamănă cu ochii mei!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pe scara sufletului meu&lt;br /&gt;M-am întâlnit din nou cu Dumnezeu -&lt;br /&gt;El cobora solemn din conştiinţa mea,&lt;br /&gt;Iar Eu urcam surâzător spre ea!...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-2216191989734109742?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/2216191989734109742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=2216191989734109742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2216191989734109742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2216191989734109742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/05/drum-crucial.html' title='Drum crucial'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-8901633711592111986</id><published>2009-05-06T19:25:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T19:25:54.446+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Trei lacrimi reci de călătoare</title><content type='html'>Trei lacrimi reci de călătoare &lt;br /&gt;de Ion Minulescu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Şi-ai să mă uiţi -&lt;br /&gt;Că prea departe&lt;br /&gt;Şi prea pentru mult timp porneşti!&lt;br /&gt;Şi-am să te uit -&lt;br /&gt;Că şi uitarea e scrisă-n legile-omeneşti.&lt;br /&gt;. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .&lt;br /&gt;Cu ochii urmări-vei ţărmul, topindu-se ca noru-n zare,&lt;br /&gt;Şi ochii-ţi lăcrima-vor poate&lt;br /&gt;Trei lacrimi reci de călătoare ;&lt;br /&gt;Iar eu pe ţărm&lt;br /&gt;Mâhnit privi-voi vaporu-n repedele-i mers,&lt;br /&gt;Şi-nţelegând că mi-eşti pierdută,&lt;br /&gt;Te-oi plânge-n ritmul unui vers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Şi versul meu&lt;br /&gt;L-o duce poate vreun cântăreţ până la tine,&lt;br /&gt;Iar tu -&lt;br /&gt;Cântându-l ca şi dânsul,&lt;br /&gt;Plângându-l, poate, ca şi mine -&lt;br /&gt;Te vei gândi la adorata în cinstea căreia fu scris,&lt;br /&gt;Şi-uitând că m-ai uitat,&lt;br /&gt;Vei smulge din cadrul palidului vis&lt;br /&gt;Întunecatu-mi chip,&lt;br /&gt;Ca-n ziua când te-afunda vaporu-n zare&lt;br /&gt;Şi când din ochi lăsai să-ţi pice&lt;br /&gt;Trei lacrimi reci de călătoare!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-8901633711592111986?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/8901633711592111986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=8901633711592111986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8901633711592111986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8901633711592111986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/05/trei-lacrimi-reci-de-calatoare.html' title='Trei lacrimi reci de călătoare'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-1965343839346173929</id><published>2009-05-04T12:06:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T12:41:31.790+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Duomul din Firenze...463 de trepte spre fericire,spre tine</title><content type='html'>Am urcat 463 de trepte cu gandul la tine,cu gandul ca la finalul lor,obosita,epuizata te voi gasi pe tine...iar atunci voi fi fericita...463 de dorinte,toate aceleasi,&lt;strong&gt;sa ma iubesti&lt;/strong&gt; asa cum n-ai mai facut-o niciodata,sa ma doresti asa cum iti doresti sa zbori,sa vrei sa te trezesti langa mine in fiecare dimineata,iar eu sa te sarut si sa-ti spun ca doar tu ma faci fericita...&lt;br /&gt;...Un culoar din ce in ce mai ingust,trepte din ce in ce mai abrupte,cate un gemulet din loc in loc prin care patrundea timid o raza de lumina,o gura de aer proaspat,erau toate ca si viata mea, ma sufocau,ma chinuiau,ma epuizau...doar gandul catre tine imi inlesnea urcarea...mi-am inaltat atunci privirea spre cer iar in fata mea s-au deschis scene din lupta cu diavolul,credinta,suferinta,speranta,Dumnezeu...cupola in splendoarea ei cu picturile Divine...lupta cu raul,cu singuratatea,cu nepasarea,cu orgoliul,cu vanitatea,toate-mi erau cunoscute,familiare, se zbateau inauntrul meu...Cand am ajuns in varf,in privirea mea era tot universul,contemplam lumea de la inaltime,toate pareau mici,pline de istorie si civilizatie...imi doream sa privesc asa si in mine,toate necazurile mele,toate suferintele...iar apoi deziluzia totala,sus tu nu erai,si atunci,sufletul meu a inceput sa planga,am deschis mainile larg si fluturele din mine isi dorea sa zboare,sa te caute,unde te-ai ascuns?...Apoi sfasiata de durere am inteles ca tu nu erai,ca la capatul asteptarilor melenu poti fi tu,pentru ca nu-ti doresti sa zburam impreuna,ca preferi sa nu mai zbori de cand partenera ta (cea careia i-ai daruit firul) a dat drumul firului.Fara ea sa te ghideze ai preferat sa cazi la intamplare intr-un camp de maci,sa stai intr-o permanenta stare de amorteala datorata opiului din seminte,sa nu te mai gandesti la nimic,sa suferi si sa ramai inghetat in starea de atunci,in timpurile in care mai calatoreati impreuna prin viata...sau poate cine stie,sa ratacesti la nesfarsit in orizonturi infinite,in eteruri necunoscute,nemaintalnite,in lumi fara inceput si fara sfarsit...&lt;br /&gt;Prinde-te de mine si hai sa zburam in lumea minunata a fericirii,am sa invoc puterile Divine sa ma lase sa traiesc mai mult de doua zile,sa fiu colorata si plina de pasiune,am sa te fac fericit zmeul meu din hartie colorata...am sa devin pentru tine cel mai frumos fluture care a putut zbura vreodata,cel mai frumos si intins lan de maci rosii...arata-mi doar ca-ti doresti...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-1965343839346173929?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/1965343839346173929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=1965343839346173929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/1965343839346173929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/1965343839346173929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/05/duomul-din-firenze463-de-trepte-spre.html' title='Duomul din Firenze...463 de trepte spre fericire,spre tine'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-6080702112528725621</id><published>2009-05-01T01:47:00.008+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T02:25:52.864+02:00</updated><title type='text'>O papusa cu chip de portelan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfpBa7AkICI/AAAAAAAAAFI/LqtEzytyqtk/s1600-h/100_2453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfpBa7AkICI/AAAAAAAAAFI/LqtEzytyqtk/s320/100_2453.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330645039718866978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am ramas doar noi doua. Sa luptam cu propria vointa,cu propriile greutati,cu noi...cu ceilalti nu luptam,ci doar incercam sa supravietuim in aceeasi barca,cu acelasi colac de salvare...&lt;br /&gt;...Dupa raspunsuri evazive am aflat realitatea pe care o banuiam deja de mai mult timp:ai pe altcineva,ai cautat si ai gasit incredere in alta parte,ai ales altceva,pe altcineva.Ceea ce ma bucura este ca esti fericit si chiar nu ne mai doare,ma bucur pentru noi:NU MAI SUFERIM.&lt;br /&gt;...Ti-am intalnit privirea albastra si ca si cum nimic nu s-ar fi intamplat,m-ai tinut in brate si m-ai sarutat,te-am privit si m-am mintit,te-ai razbunat probabil pentru timpurile trecute cand te-am privit si am spus ceva, doar ca manata de dorinte puternice de a te vedea fericit am facut altceva...singurul meu scop era sa te vad fericit si atunci am actionat ca un om legat la ochi,gura si maini,o persoana disperata sa se elibereze...tu ai facut-o insa din placere...&lt;br /&gt;...Nu te uram!!!Intelegem ca deceptionat ca te-a abandonat ai decis sa te razbuni pe toate femeile care vor trece prin viata ta,ai decis ca trebuie sa treaca si ele prin acelasi lucru ca si tine,iar eu am avut ghinionul sa cad in aceasta plasa pe care o tesi cu mare grija...dar,nu-mi pare rau,ACUM am inteles ca nu este nimic in neregula cu mine,ca indiferent cate as fi facut pentru tine,pentru NOI,ar fi avut acelasi final...faceam parte din etapa de razbunare si suferinta a vietii tale...acum intrebarile mele au un raspuns,in sfarsit ecoul din mintea mea a disparut,nu ma mai chinuie.Are ea ceva mai bun decat mine?Nu am fost suficient de atenta cu tine?Nu am fost suficient de senzuala,de feminina etc? = toate stau sub semnul aceluiasi raspuns: ai avut totul,doar ca el era intr-o alta etapa a vietii,nu aveati aceiasi timpi...&lt;br /&gt;Povestea noastra este una fericita,imi place sa spun cu final nefericit,dar nu regret nimic,ba mai mult,am descoperit foarte multe lucruri bune in mine,m-am schimbat mult in anumite privinte iar altele stau sa iasa la iveala...printre lacrimi am invatat sa apreciez mai mult ceea ce am,ceea ce am avut...o lectie de viata si supravietuire,o lectie pentru care nu mi-am facut temele dar la care cu siguranta in viitor nu am sa raman repetenta...&lt;br /&gt;Am sa pastrez doar partile frumoase,pe celelalte le sterg usor,usor...pana nu va mai ramane nici macar o urma fina,nici macar o dara de parfum murdar...&lt;br /&gt;Iti multumesc pentru timpul tau, pentru ca m-ai facut fericita si nefericita...&lt;br /&gt;Am sa scriu si povestea noastra asa cum a fost ea,pentru ca in seara aceea ai plans si mi-ai spus ca scriu minunat,dar atat.apoi totul va fi deja trecut,va fi deja incheiat...te sarut usor pe ochisori si te las sa dormi fara sa te trezesc,esti atat de frumos cand dormi, cand esti langa mine...&lt;br /&gt;Mi-ar fi placut ca din cand in cand sa intrebi de noi,sa vezi daca suntem bine,chiar daca doar din prietenie,chiar daca in mintea ta nu existam...chiar daca...&lt;br /&gt;...O papusa cu chip de potelan,lacrimi de dor si haine vechi de catifea,abandonata intr-o cutie plina de praf si de dorinte...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfpAl_3-xcI/AAAAAAAAAE4/15_FR2QoLVw/s1600-h/100_2448.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfpAl_3-xcI/AAAAAAAAAE4/15_FR2QoLVw/s320/100_2448.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330644130491975106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfpBLZey_VI/AAAAAAAAAFA/R_BQ-4-fHPw/s1600-h/100_2444.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfpBLZey_VI/AAAAAAAAAFA/R_BQ-4-fHPw/s320/100_2444.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330644773020826962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-6080702112528725621?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/6080702112528725621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=6080702112528725621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6080702112528725621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6080702112528725621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-papusa-cu-chip-de-portelan.html' title='O papusa cu chip de portelan'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfpBa7AkICI/AAAAAAAAAFI/LqtEzytyqtk/s72-c/100_2453.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-723376356186985620</id><published>2009-04-29T00:07:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T00:25:53.922+02:00</updated><title type='text'>25.04.2009</title><content type='html'>Cu gandul la o persoana minunata spun "La multi ani!" si inchin un pahar cu vin in sanatatea ei,o sambata frumoasa alaturi de persoane cu inima curata,un pranz vesel, o plimbare lunga dar placuta, o seara plina de istorie,trecut,civilizatie...&lt;br /&gt;-Am intarziat?Am pierdut metroul din cauza mea?Vom intarzia la masa?&lt;br /&gt;-Nu.Stai linistita,ne incadram in program,noroc ca este sambata si se pare ca nu functioneaza atat de bine nici metrourile lor...(se rade)&lt;br /&gt;-Huh! ce bine,m-as fi simtit aiurea, nu ma intrebati ce am facut toata dimineata ca nu stiu,adica stiu,am dormit pana la 10:15,dar credeti-ma nu mi se dezlipeau ochii,dupa seara de "colbaraie" am adormit imbracata...si radem copios amintindu-ne de distractia din seara precedenta...&lt;br /&gt;-Dar ai mai nimerit patul?...(rasete)&lt;br /&gt;-Hai lasati glumele...ce ati cumparat?&lt;br /&gt;-Vin si fursecuri.&lt;br /&gt;-Ce bine!eu am luat bomboane de ciocolata si aparatul foto, ca sa nu spuneti ca ratam momentul...(din nou rasete)&lt;br /&gt;-Evident ca l-ai luat,nici nu ne indoiam,micul nostru chinez,sa nu-ti scape ceva...&lt;br /&gt;-Hai ca vine metroul,sa nu-l ratam ca s-a terminat cu pranzul nostru...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-723376356186985620?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/723376356186985620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=723376356186985620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/723376356186985620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/723376356186985620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/04/25042009.html' title='25.04.2009'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-5910793319352662423</id><published>2009-04-26T23:36:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T23:39:06.653+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Barcelona mi amor...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfTUVvU30ZI/AAAAAAAAAEg/vOH4ntYn-TU/s1600-h/DSC03377.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfTUVvU30ZI/AAAAAAAAAEg/vOH4ntYn-TU/s320/DSC03377.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329117729032491410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu de ce mi-am imaginat mereu ca am sa ma indragostesc la Barcelona, ca dragostea mea va avea o dulce aroma catalana...&lt;br /&gt;Sunt imbracata intr-o rochie rosie de salsa si incerc din rasputeri sa tin pasul cu dansatorii profesionisti, corpurile lor se misca cu pasiune, cu viata, cu bucurie, privirile lor spun totul iar muzica este cea care da tonul...&lt;br /&gt;Oare de ce aceasta atractie pentru oras-ul lui Gaudi? Focul meu sa vina oare din pasiunea pe care o emana orice matador care cu istetime si curaj a invins vreun taur fioros folosindu-se de muleta (capa de culoarea rosie) si de o sabie sau de vina sa fie limba latina care ne uneste? ...nu stiu...Stiu doar ca tinand in mana aparatul foto mi-ar placea sa ma pierd pe stradutele pline de istorie, pe marele bulevard Les Rambles admirand florile si ascultand muzica, apoi m-as opri pentru un moment sa ascult un strigat de conchistador iar la o terasa as comanda un pahar mare si rece de sangria care sa-mi dea putere, sa ma ameteasca, sa-mi dea acea minunata stare de euforie...As admira cladirile pline de inovatie si farmec ale neintelesului dar extraordinarului Antonio Gaudì, m-as ruga rapusa de admiratie in Sagrada Familia si mi-as imagina parfumul doamnelor unei epoci demult apuse dar inca atat de vii...&lt;br /&gt;Sa fie oare marea cea care ma atrage si ma poarta cu gandul la o corabie veche pe care inca o mai astept sa acosteze la tarm cu speranta ca din ea ar putea cobori barbatul visurilor mele, inalt, brunet, purtand palarie si un trandafir rosu la haina de la costum?...nu stiu...cu siguranta corabia visurilor mele o pot admira in toata splendoarea sa la Muzeul Maritim...sau sa fie oare dorinta de a scoate la suprafata sufletul meu de copil, ascuns in spatele greutatilor, muncii, studiului, goanei spre realizare si afrmare, jucandu-ma si bucurandu-ma in splendidul parc de desitactii Aventura savurand o inghetata, eliberand baloane asa ca in vremea copilariei mele...&lt;br /&gt;As incheia insa ziua pe dealurile Montjuìc privind apusul soarelui, bucurandu-ma de linistea orasului care se pregateste sa mearga la culcare sau poate cine stie, revine la viata in cluburile si discotecile cu muzica moderna data la maxim si pline de culoare...si stiind ca undeva in multime este si cel de care ma voi indragosti, un calator ca si mine...sau, cine stie...&lt;br /&gt;"El amor tiene su nombre..." Ole.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-5910793319352662423?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/5910793319352662423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=5910793319352662423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5910793319352662423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5910793319352662423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/04/barcelona-mi-amor.html' title='Barcelona mi amor...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfTUVvU30ZI/AAAAAAAAAEg/vOH4ntYn-TU/s72-c/DSC03377.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-5083660552920797933</id><published>2009-04-17T00:15:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T00:48:35.966+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Viata in alb si negru</title><content type='html'>Viata mea este asa: in alb si negru, fara pic de culoare. Mesajele de la tine ma chinuie inca:"Iti multumesc pentru ca ma faci fericit si ca imi zambesti.Esti un vis color frumos,te sarut." - oare pot fi o pata de culoare in viata ta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SeewTx3wDhI/AAAAAAAAADY/kwuJ844TSks/s1600-h/100_2391.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SeewTx3wDhI/AAAAAAAAADY/kwuJ844TSks/s400/100_2391.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325418938240077330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Esti iubita mai mult decat crezi, doar ca inca nu stii asta.Te vreau langa mine"&lt;br /&gt;"Ok,atunci dau SMS-ul si o sa spun 2 chestii chiar daca repet.1.Eu,peste 95% din cazuri nu imi exteriorizez sentimentele. 2.Pentru tine am reusit sa aprind mai multe lumanarele decat am aprins in toata viata mea,pentru tine am facut peste 400km desi eram rupt de somn,a meritat fiecare secunda cand te priveam,a meritat fiecare soapta si fiecare atingere,m-ai facut sa simt ce nu am mai simtit in viata mea,felul in care ma atingeai a generat sentimente ce nu pot fi descrise in cuvinte,esti un vis,un vis frumos,imi pare rau ca nu stiu sa o arat,o simt si ma doare ca nu pot sa o spun,nu stiu sa o spun,acea inimioara pe care ti-am dat-o a fost din suflet si reprezinta traspunerea materiala a ceea ce simt.Vreau sa te vad,sa te simt,vreau sa ma trezesc langa tine dimineata,sa te aud cum canti si sa te sarut,vreau sa ne pierdem unul in bratele celuilalt si sa plutim.Te vreau langa mine,vesela,calda si senina. P.S.Asta inseamna 5% din ce simt"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iti multumesc pentru acest raspuns:&lt;br /&gt;la intrebarea ta "...te-ai gandit vreodata la mine,am facut vreodata parte din viata ta???" raspunsul este da, m-am gandit la tine, da, ai facut parte din viata mea. da, mi-a facut placere sa merg cu tine in venetia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inseamna ca am avut totul si am fost oarba...am fost in aceasta panza si am scapat desi era bine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/Seevoy8lebI/AAAAAAAAADQ/rG5rCS4_V7E/s1600-h/100_2373.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/Seevoy8lebI/AAAAAAAAADQ/rG5rCS4_V7E/s320/100_2373.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325418199794416050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unde am incetat sa mai fiu pata de culoare, unde am devenit alb si negru???&lt;br /&gt;...te sarut, dragul meu...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-5083660552920797933?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/5083660552920797933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=5083660552920797933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5083660552920797933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/5083660552920797933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/04/viata-in-alb-si-negru.html' title='Viata in alb si negru'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SeewTx3wDhI/AAAAAAAAADY/kwuJ844TSks/s72-c/100_2391.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-4990884343807122138</id><published>2009-04-11T22:32:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T00:21:50.889+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Venezia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SeEX5gSqFuI/AAAAAAAAADI/Yp0Ord0PLdM/s1600-h/100_1551.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SeEX5gSqFuI/AAAAAAAAADI/Yp0Ord0PLdM/s320/100_1551.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323562511216809698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inca imi mai aduc aminte ziua pe care am petrecut-o impreuna la Venezia...pare atat de aproape si totusi este atat de departe pentru mine...inca imi rasuna cuvintele tale spuse la plecare pe scarile din fata garii: a fost frumos,ce locatie ai ales pentru data viitoare?...mi-as dori sa strabatem lumea impreuna,dar din pacate visele mele sunt doar ale mele, tu ai decis sa nu mai faci parte din ele, nu mai ai incredere...inca te mai visez,inca te mai vreau in viata mea, dupa tot si dupa toate...esti ca si un drog,probabil am sa am nevoie de multe ore de dezintoxicare, de multe zile de chin si suferinta, am plans rauri,si probabil am sa mai plang in toate noptile de singuratate in toate zilele in care am sa-ti mai simt parfumul pe pielea mea...Venezia este orasul indragostitilor, iar eu eram atat de indragostita de tine...chiar daca as mai fi oricum nu ar mai conta...te-ai gandit vreodata la mine,am facut vreodata parte din viata ta???&lt;br /&gt;Asa arata viata mea acum &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SeED8ZXzBAI/AAAAAAAAAC4/kRvh74vyB5c/s1600-h/100_1657.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SeED8ZXzBAI/AAAAAAAAAC4/kRvh74vyB5c/s200/100_1657.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323540570666370050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asa mi-am dorit sa ramanem mereu...&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SeEEYD-1y5I/AAAAAAAAADA/8nNjPiUm9X8/s1600-h/100_1552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SeEEYD-1y5I/AAAAAAAAADA/8nNjPiUm9X8/s200/100_1552.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323541045960887186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-4990884343807122138?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/4990884343807122138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=4990884343807122138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4990884343807122138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4990884343807122138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/04/venezia.html' title='Venezia'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SeEX5gSqFuI/AAAAAAAAADI/Yp0Ord0PLdM/s72-c/100_1551.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-4864075861028951538</id><published>2009-03-04T00:26:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T01:28:18.586+01:00</updated><title type='text'>..Esti un zmeu facut din hartie colorata...</title><content type='html'>Prietena mea: "Ce sa zic, ma simt singura, ma simt ca dracu…a fost frumos la munte dar in acelasi timp m-am si intristat..toti perechi eu cuc…nah ce sa fac n-am avut niciodata noroc, numa' de ciudati am avut parte si care mai de care m-a uimit tot mai mult…dupa fiecare am ramas cu un gust amara…si nush pana mea…de ce dracu imi bat capul sa ajut pe altii si in schimb nu primesc decat lacrimi si durere???….Am pus zambete pe fata unor personae si in schimb am primit tradare…nu inteleg unde naiba gresesc si de ce primesc toate astea…oare le merit????"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu: "Perioade mai proaste sau mai bune avem cu totii, important este sa trecem peste ele si stai linistita nu esti singura, chiar daca sunt la sute de km departare ma gandesc la tine (stiu ca ai nevoie de o parte masculina, ca noi toate, dar …)….Zilele astea am analizat foarte bine unele lucruri, crede-ma ca nu mai am nici macar lacrimi sa plang…si am ajuns la concluzia ca probabil fericirea va aveni atunci cand vom inceta sa mai cautam cu atata disperare…&lt;br /&gt;   Am cunoscut aici un tip, italian (un coleg), care are 36 ani, am discutat mult cu el, si mi-a spus: “la 24 ani am avut un accident cu motorul si am stat in coma 13 zile, nu-mi mai amintesc nimic din modul cum s-au petrecut lucrurile, dar stiu un singur lucru, atunci cand mi-am revenit din coma am jurat in fata lui Dumnezeu ca voi trai fiecare zi ca si cum ar fi ultima, si de atunci asta fac, imi traiesc momentul fara sa ma gandesc la viitor, fara sa fac planuri prea complexe…cand am iesit din spital am luat banii pe asigurare si banii care-i mai aveam stransi si am facut toate nebuniile din lume posibile, i-am cheltuit pe toti, nu am ramas cu nimic, si apoi prin munca am luat-o de la capat si nu-mi pare rau de nimik”….mi-a facut super bine discutia cu el….Are ca pasiune zborul (parca ma urmaresc), zboara de cate ori are ocazia impreuna cu prietenii, a avut vari relatii, nu a fost casatorit niciodata, a condus tot felul de masini puternice, dar acum conduce o masina de la serviciu, pentru ca a experimentat tot si stie ce inseamna sa ai o masina puternica…merge cu motorul…si alte chestii…si mi-a mai spus ca ar face aceleasi lucruri, nu-i pare rau de nimic… a facut 13 ani pe DJ-ul… :D.&lt;br /&gt;   Este o persoana super matura in gandire, si asta-mi place…se vede ca nu-si mai doreste sa copilareasca...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Hai sa vedem partea frumoasa a lucrurilor….Suntem tinere, sanatoase, inteligente, frumoase….avem toate calitatile, sa ne bucuram de ele fara sa ne gandim prea mult…ai sa vezi: o sa fie bine!!!&lt;br /&gt;   Credinta ne este pusa la incercare uneori, asa ca hai sa nu-i dam satisfactii “raului” …&lt;br /&gt;   Vorbeste si cu A, stiu ca are si ea nevoie… Pupici..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ea: "Ai dreptate nu zic nu…si din cate ai observat am habar de toate astea…dar…tu de ce plangi in fiecare seara ?…de ce ai starile pe care le ai?...trebuie sa recunosti ca uneori e greu sa iti controlezi toate starile...suntem oameni nu niste roboti ...avem sentimente, nevoi, dorinte , trebuie sa recunosti ca oricat de dure ne-am da noi suntem oameni si avem nevoie unii de altii, de cand ma stiu fac pe dura si n-am sa las niciodata sa se vada ce-i cu mine intradevar...dar sunt o fiinta , carne si oase am nevoi, lucrez cu mine cu subconstientul meu, imi repet mereu ca nu trebuie sa fiu trista ca n-am de ce, recunosc nu ma dau batuta, dar nici sa zic ca nu-mi pasa nu pot zice, pentru ca nu e asa, arat sau nu, sufar...ideea e sa stiu sa ascund asta....ce sa fac am sa merg mai departe oricum n-am de ales, merg mai departe pentru ca asa trebuie...ms pt sfaturi le stiu pe toate asa cum si tu stii multe si chiar daca ti se zic tot cum te taie mintea si capul le faci, faci ce simti...oameni ne numim..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Cata dreptate ai, si cat mi-as dori sa reusesc sa ma controlez, sa devin indiferenta, sa traiesc altfel...n-am ascultat sfatul tau si am mers mai departe, daca ai sti cata suferinta mi-am provocat...aveai atata dreptate...dar am crezut ca toti vor fi asa cum a fost "EL" in viata mea, sa traiasca doar pentru mine,sa nu-si mai doreasca pe nimeni altcineva in viata lui...&lt;br /&gt;    Ceea ce-i atrage cel mai tare este ceea ce nu pot avea,dupa,nimic nu mai este interesant...nu mai vor nimic,cauta in alta parte...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Egoist,razbunator,optimist,vesel,rezistent la oboseala,me enervez repede..." - in viziunea mea esti un "ZMEU din hartie colorata"...imi aduc si acum aminte cum bunicul ne facea zmee din hartie si tulpina de papura uscata,pe care le coloram cu creioane colorate...&lt;br /&gt;De ce aceasta comparatie? pai sa vedem...poate pentru ca iti place sa zbori,sa fii liber,sa fii deasupra tuturor, iti pasa cum te vad ceilalti,'hartia' iti da usurinta, desi pare firava tulpina de papura te face puternic ca sa poti lupta impotriva vantului,practic nu este o lupta ci o comuniune (fara de care totusi nu reusesti sa fii tu),aduci zambetul pe chipul copiilor si deci implicit si pe cel al adultilor,depinzi de cel care te are prin ata care va leaga si totusi aceasta ata trebuie sa fie suficient de lunga incat sa-ti poti indeplini atributiile...iar ca sa te inalti cel caruia ii apartii trebuie sa alerge mult,sa depuna efort daca vrea sa te aiba in toata splendoarea ta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/Sa3KwKyeRAI/AAAAAAAAACw/4empG8LRPXM/s1600-h/ZMEUL(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/Sa3KwKyeRAI/AAAAAAAAACw/4empG8LRPXM/s320/ZMEUL(2).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309122464618267650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-4864075861028951538?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/4864075861028951538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=4864075861028951538' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4864075861028951538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/4864075861028951538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/03/esti-un-zmeu-facut-din-hartie-colorata.html' title='..Esti un zmeu facut din hartie colorata...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/Sa3KwKyeRAI/AAAAAAAAACw/4empG8LRPXM/s72-c/ZMEUL(2).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-2130069547017219454</id><published>2009-03-03T23:08:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T00:24:10.005+01:00</updated><title type='text'>DE CE???</title><content type='html'>CURVA= 1)femeie care duce o viata desfranata, prostituata;&lt;br /&gt;       2)om ipocrit,josnic,cutra...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Cat de nedreapta si parsiva este viata, cand ai crezut ca ai aproape totul, sau cand nu ai mai ramas cu nimic ori iti da mai mult dar tot nu te multumeste,ori iti da putin cat sa te amageasca,ori nu-ti da deloc ca sa suferi si mai mult, sa te zbati in propriile nevoi, in propriile chinuri.&lt;br /&gt;    De cele mai multe ori atunci cand viata este nedreapta spunem ca "viata este o curva" si am incercat sa-mi explic aceasta afirmatie. Sa fie poate pentru ca ne ofera placere pentru care platim iar la sfarsitul placerii ne abandoneaza ca sa o ia fara scrupule de la capat cu altcineva? Se prea poate, dar la fel de bine ne putem gandi ca la o curva mergi de buna voie, atunci cand in oricare alta parte nu ai mai gasit ceea ce ai nevoie sau cand vrei sa-ti satisfaci placeri ascunse pe care poate langa femeia cu care-ti imparti grijile si slabiciunile, nu le-ai putea satisface din respect,sau din cauza preconceptiilor...pe cand viata...&lt;br /&gt;Sau este din cauza dualitatii? O curva(imi place mai mult termenul de "femeie usoara")te invaluie cu starea ei de bine pentru ca in realitate sa-ti dai seama ca nu-ti ofera nimic gratuit...la sfarsit se plateste, mai mult sau mai putin, depinde doar de ceea ce ai ales la inceput...&lt;br /&gt;...Eu insa prefer sa merg mai departe si sa afirm "oamenii sunt niste curve", pentru ca viata oricaruia dintre noi graviteaza in jurul persoanelor, doar ele sunt cele care ne fac rau, ne amagesc, ne alinta, ne ridica apoi ne coboara, ne ofera placere sau durere iar apoi pleaca, uneori ne cer bani,alteori pleaca fara sa ceara nimic...lasand in noi un abis fara ecou...&lt;br /&gt;    Am sa ma gandesc insa la cuvantul "curva" in italiana si in engleza curva/curva inseamna "curba" si am sa spun ca "viata este o curba" care ne poarta spre stanga sau dreapta, spre bine sau spre rau, spre fericire sau spre deznadejde...viata este un drum plin de curbe,intortocheate, de evenimente...un drum care de o parte si de alta are copaci mari si grosi...asa ca sa nu reusesti sa vezi ceea ce te asteapta la fiecare curba...&lt;br /&gt;...Un lucru este insa clar: indiferent de data scadentei,toti mai devreme sau mai tarziu  platim pentru tot ceea ce facem...unor persoane,unei vieti, unei curve, noua insine...iar la final in fata lui Dumnezeu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M-am intrebat mereu: Daca nu iubesti persoana de langa tine de ce sa o tii ocupata, de ce sa fii egoist si sa o tii doar pentru tine? De ce sa nu o eliberezi, indiferent cat de mare ar fi suferinta ei,ca altcineva sa o poata descoperi?...De ce sa ii iei dreptul la fericire, dreptul de a o iubi altcineva, dreptul la o viata linistita??? DE CE??? de ce sa o otravesti cu nemultumirile tale, cu indispozitia ta, cu rautatea, cu indiferenta, cand altcineva ar putea sa-i ofere tot ceea ce tu nu-i poti oferi, doar din simplu fapt ca nu o mai vrei cu toata fiinta ta langa tine...???&lt;br /&gt;Te eliberezi in primul rand pe tine de minciuna in care traiesti,chiar daca este bine si confortabil sa stii ca exista mereu cineva langa tine care are grija de tine, care se gandeste la tine, care te saruta, pentru care esti cea mai importanta persoana de pe Pamant, pentru care si-ar da si viata...&lt;br /&gt;Oare cu fiecare sarut, mangaiere, zambet pe care ti le ofera nu-ti dai seama ca ar putea fi pentru altcineva care ar fi fericit ca le are, care tanjeste dupa asa ceva si este la randul lui nefericit ca nu le are si care le si merita???&lt;br /&gt;Nu am putea oare mai bine sa iubim si noi la randul nostru,fara sa-i distrugem pe ceilalti???? Dar probabil asta ar insemna sa ai respect fata de cel de langa tine si fata de tine, sa ai credinta si mai presus de toate sa ai CURAJ...iar asta este foarte greu...ar insemna sa ne gandim la cei din jurul nostru,la noi ca oameni si nu ca simplii trecatori prin viata...&lt;br /&gt;Toata viata suntem calatori, de pe un peron pe altul,dintr-un tren in altul, cu un bagaj sau mai multe, cu aceleasi persoane sau cu necunoscuti...musafiri prin vietile unoara sau a altora,depinde de cine te primeste si cum te primeste;daca devii unul dintre proprietarii "casei" sau ramai un simplu musafir pentru o perioada mai lunga sau mai scurta de timp, depinde doar de tine....doar de noi.&lt;br /&gt;    Ceasul a devenit un obiect indispensabil deoarece ne aflam in permanenta sub presiunea timpului. Cat de des ne aducem aminte sa ne bucuram de ziua de azi, de persoanele de langa noi,sa fim recunoscatori pentru ceea ce avem,pentru clipa prezenta?Suntem, prea des, prinsi intre euforia succesului sau deznadejdea esecului de ieri, pe de o parte, si speranta schimbarii,idealurile si dorintele de maine,pe de alta parte. Insa,in toata aceasta "poveste" sa nu uitam de clipa ce fuge pe langa noi, cei care analizam clipa trecuta si prognozam clipa viitoare.&lt;br /&gt;...In linistea noptii suveran e doar visul. In vis suntem liberi,nemarginiti...toate sperantele devin realitate: "Visul nu poate fi grabit cand il traiesti, cand il visezi, nu-i asa? In vis esti prizonierul visului. Aluneci pe apele lui si nu poti sa iesi la mal decat daca un val al visului vrea sa te azvarle".&lt;br /&gt;   Eu spun sa ne oprim din cand in cand si sa ne "amintim" cum e sa traim sub incidenta verbului "ESTE" si nu "A FOST" sau "VA FI".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Exista clipe in care vorbele isi gasesc cu greu locul,in care tacere,pentru o clipa,e mai presus de comunicare,in care nu vrem sa vorbim decat cu noi insine. Poate pentru a ne regasi,pentru a cauta in noi drumul pe care vrem sa mergem,sau poate destinul ne-a lasat inca o data fara vorbe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Chiar daca uneori avem nevoie de clipe pe care sa le petrecem cu noi insine, sa nu uitam ca "drumul care duce spre noi insine duce in mod obligatoriu si spre ceilalti" dar "drumul care ne departeaza de lume ne departeaza si de noi insine".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-2130069547017219454?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/2130069547017219454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=2130069547017219454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2130069547017219454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2130069547017219454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/03/de-ce.html' title='DE CE???'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-6834223659880150748</id><published>2009-02-26T15:30:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T15:32:07.392+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...Serpii...</title><content type='html'>Octavian Paler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Acolo pe pietre sau pe oasele acelea ,caci nu distingeam prea bine ce erau,am vazut doi serpi incolaciti.Poate faceau dragoste sau poate se luptau.Sa va spun drept,nu stiu cum fac serpii dragoste.Deodata,am vazut cum un fulger negru cade prin aer chiar peste insula si chiar peste serpii incolaciti.Era un vultur care a inhatat unul din serpi si s-a ridicat cu el in vazduh.Daca nu am visat si asta!&lt;br /&gt;Asadar,vulturul le-a intrerupt serpilor dragostea sau lupta.Eu i-am vazut inlantuiti ,nu ma pricep sa spun ce anume a fost.Dar ,poate ca intre dragoste si lupta nu e nici o deosebire.Dragostea e lupta intre doua suflete si intre doua trupuri in care nu e nici un invingator ,alteori nu e nici un invins.Si ,oricum pentru unul din serpi nu mai avea importanta diferenta dintre dragoste si lupta.Pentru el totul se sfarsise.Nu va mai face nici dragoste ,nici nu se va mai lupta cu nimeni.Moartea pune punct si iubirilor si luptelor.Fiecare ramane atunci cu cat a iubit si cu cat a luptat.Mai are timp , poate , sa regrete ca n-a iubit si ca n-a luptat destul sau ca a trait ca un sarpe singur ,care nu si-a gasit alt sarpe cu care sa se iubeasca sau sa se lupte.Celalalt sarpe ramasese sa faca dragoste sau sa se lupte cu alti serpi. El ramanea ,cum s-ar zice , pe peronul lui. Mai putea sa ia totul de la inceput. Alte iubiri sau alte lupte”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...fara cuvinte...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-6834223659880150748?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/6834223659880150748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=6834223659880150748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6834223659880150748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/6834223659880150748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/02/serpii.html' title='...Serpii...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-8354900418936045010</id><published>2009-02-26T00:33:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T00:41:29.859+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...dar hai sa comunicam...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;18.12.2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- R:eu sincer, as avea nevoie acum de cineva care sa ma faca sa uit&lt;br /&gt;- R:dar cineva plin de energie&lt;br /&gt;- R:tot ce pot face acum e sa rafinez ceea ce am realizat, asta e cuprinsa in acea femeie de care ziceam&lt;br /&gt;- R:hai sa iti descriu asa cum pot ceea ce simt&lt;br /&gt;- HW:te ascult...&lt;br /&gt;- R: eu sunt foarte optimist, dus la extrem, dar acum totul e amestecat cu pesimism. rad si ma doare in interior, tremur si mor de cald, ascult muzica si plang, visez urat, ma trezesc noaptea de 5-10 ori, transpir si imi doresc sa uit, vreau sa uit tot si sa dispar, ma simt inghetat si incalzit brusc apoi spart in mii de bucati, sper si astept sa treaca timpul&lt;br /&gt;- R: asta in fiecare zi&lt;br /&gt;- R: de aproape 2 luni&lt;br /&gt;- R: dimineata sunt cel mai ok&lt;br /&gt;- R: fericit&lt;br /&gt;- R: seara e la polul opus&lt;br /&gt;- HW: inca mai iubesti... imi pare rau&lt;br /&gt;- R: nu cred&lt;br /&gt;- R: nu am mai spus te iubesc de cativa ani&lt;br /&gt;- HW: un paradox&lt;br /&gt;- R: pe care il traiesc&lt;br /&gt;- R: ok, acum sa descriu ce simt acum, problema e ca nu stiu cauza, cam 2-3 respiratii pe minut, puls foarte mare, un nod in inima, un tremur interior, imi e cald aproape dezbracat si ascult muzica….sau poate tu&lt;br /&gt;- R: …eu am reusit sa ma indragostesc de cine nu trebuie pe fondul unei tristeti incredibile, rezultatul a generat un sentiment pesimist intr-un corp optimist, iar acum e o lupta intre cele 2 stari, astept sa se termine, sunt curios ce urmeaza, dar imi e frica sa ma mai las dus de val&lt;br /&gt;- R: sunt curios cum mirosi atunci cand dormi, sunt curios cum e la pol, cum râzi cand esti fericita, ce gust are ananasul crescut in jungla, cum se simte pielea ta cand este mangaiata, cum se simte la viteza sunetului in zbor, sunt curios ce privire ai cand esti privita fix...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma hranesc cu tot ceea ce inseamna trecutul nostru, cu tot ceea ce inseamna nopti petrecute impreuna pe messenger, nopti petrecute facand dragoste, nopti petrecute certandu-ne si dormind intorsi spate in spate, momentele in care ma saruti, in care-mi saruti mana, momentele cand ma mangai, saruturile noastre pasionale…ma hranesc cu tot ceea ce insemni tu…cred ca trebuie sa am rabdare, si am sa ma rog bunului Dumnezeu sa-mi dea rabdare iar tie liniste…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24.02.2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-R:m-am gandit un pic si prefer sa nu comentez nimic la ceea ce ai spus tu, indiferent daca unele chestii sunt adevarate si/sau unele ma deranjeaza&lt;br /&gt;-R:prefer sa discut/comunic cu tine&lt;br /&gt;-R:vreau sa ma inteleg cu tine si sa schimbam pareri si idei, sa ne simtim bine pe mess si impreuna, sa discutam, sa fim relaxati fara tentative de contra&lt;br /&gt;-R: nu mai vreau sa ne contram, vreau sa comunicam...mult sau putin, dar sa fie bine si placut&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te sarut dragul meu…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-8354900418936045010?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/8354900418936045010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=8354900418936045010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8354900418936045010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8354900418936045010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/02/dar-hai-sa-comunicam.html' title='...dar hai sa comunicam...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-8200018529217583996</id><published>2009-02-25T00:53:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T01:42:16.413+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Biletel</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SaSRUHI383I/AAAAAAAAACY/i5SOxl3BdE4/s1600-h/100_1290.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306526035648967538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SaSRUHI383I/AAAAAAAAACY/i5SOxl3BdE4/s320/100_1290.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Mi-ar face foarte mare placere daca nu ai pleca in seara asta si daca m-ai astepta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Promit ca atunci cand voi veni acasa nu o sa mai am tentative de munca :).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Te rog stai.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Te sarut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.s: Ai acces la pc-ul meu, fara parola, ca sa asculti muzica, freci menta pe net,etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Daca ai nevoie de ceva, suna. " -R-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Iar daca am sa am nevoie de tine? Ce mai pot face? Daca te sun, tot nu-mi trece dorul de tine, poate putin, 5 minute, apoi....nevoia de a te tine in brate, de a te saruta? nevoia de a te tine de mana, de ati simti respiratia fierbinte si buzele moi?...astea cum le fac sa dispara?...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...cuvintele tale inca provoaca tacere in sufletul meu, iar tacerea inseamna chin, inseamna suferinta pentru mine...Imi pare rau ca te-am facut sa-ti pierzi timpul cu mine, ca am indraznit sa-ti cer doua zile din viata ta, sa le petreci cu mine la munte, sa ma bucur de tot ceea ce este frumos, de liniste, de zambet, de soare, de frig, de tine...chiar si dormind...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;     Stiu ca ti-ai pierdut timpul cu lucruri minunate in loc sa muncesti...imi pare rau...pentru timpul meu insa nu-mi pare rau, eu l-am petrecut asa cum mi-am dorit, muncesc suficient de mult incat sa-i pot multumi lui Dumnezeu pentru clipele in care ma pot bucura de mine, de tine, de El, de noi, de tot ceea ce ma inconjoara si nu este birou...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;    Toate aceste nopti in care ma gandesc la tine as putea spune ca sunt nopti pierdute, poate ca sunt,poate ca ma consum prea mult pentru lucruri carora tu nu le dai atentie, doar eu stiu cat de greu imi este la munca a doua zi, si stiu ca tu mi-ai putea spune ca nu mi le-a cerut nimeni, si poate ai dreptate, dar stii la fel de bine ca indiferenta ta ma doare...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...O prietena imi spunea: stii B tu nu te-ai gandit niciodata ca si tie iti este greu in tot ceea ce ti s-a intamplat doar ca exista o diferenta, tu l-ai lasat pe el, tu esti cea care a plecat, care a luat hotararea sa va despartiti, ai decis ca trebuie sa schimbi ceva, ca ceva nu mai functioneaza, ai avut CURAJUL de a spune lucrurilor pe nume....si chiar si asa mai ai dubii...dar EL, gandeste-te ca pe el l-a parasit ea, el traieste cu indoiala ca daca nu l-ar fi parasit ar fi fost inca impreuna, el nu a ales nimic, el a fost pus asupra faptului implinit, se gandeste ca poate putea schimba ceva, traieste cu intrebarea 'dar oare eu as fi avut CURAJUL sa fac acelasi lucru, eu as fi schimbat ceva, eu as fi plecat, oare era momentul??? '...poate ai dreptate draga prietena dar viata merge inainte, iar daca fericirea ne gaseste, chiar si cu temele nefacute de ce sa nu incercam sa o pastram la noi, de ce sa ne fie teama sa iubim din nou, de ce sa nu recunoastem ca ne este bine chiar daca a trecut putin timp de la ultima persoana care a trecut prin viata noastra, timpul este atat de important, de ce trebuie sa asteptam ca sa fim fericiti, de ce trebuie sa fugim ??? ....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am gasit o chestie teribil de frumoasa, stiu ca poate fi interpretata dar nu vreau sa vorbesc despre asta, o iau ca atare : " Don't worry about the people in your past, there is a reason they didn't make it into your future..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306526272135857954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SaSRh4HvhyI/AAAAAAAAACg/erfBco_2xRQ/s320/100_1298.JPG" border="0" /&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/10977945-8200018529217583996?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/8200018529217583996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=8200018529217583996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8200018529217583996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/8200018529217583996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2009/02/biletel.html' title='Biletel'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SaSRUHI383I/AAAAAAAAACY/i5SOxl3BdE4/s72-c/100_1290.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-3423014620883153510</id><published>2008-12-02T20:02:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T20:27:50.860+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Una farfalla</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/STWL9D8UTbI/AAAAAAAAACI/a2uEJiP7Nug/s1600-h/432041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275276419680980402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/STWL9D8UTbI/AAAAAAAAACI/a2uEJiP7Nug/s200/432041.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...Se Dio mi chiederà un giorno che voglio diventare li dirò: voglio essere una farfalla – al inizio una galla, una cosa strana ma sottile, e poi una farfalla bella colorata che può volare…non vivere molto, ma sfruttare tutto...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Sei molto bella sai?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mi sei sempre piaciuta... solo che questo non è sufficiente per stare bene con una persona.La tua vita è là in Romania C. La mia è qua. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se vuoi che restiamo amici va bene, ma non voglio che tu soffra, non pensarmi come amante ma come amico.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stammi bene! Prenditi cura di te!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Un bacio A. "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-3423014620883153510?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/3423014620883153510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=3423014620883153510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/3423014620883153510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/3423014620883153510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2008/12/una-farfalla.html' title='Una farfalla'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/STWL9D8UTbI/AAAAAAAAACI/a2uEJiP7Nug/s72-c/432041.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-3346708272090439000</id><published>2008-11-28T19:23:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T19:54:29.738+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Marile sperante</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/STA-GDgwAlI/AAAAAAAAABk/QWriu9KCklQ/s1600-h/rainbows_double_rainbows.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273783437393658450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/STA-GDgwAlI/AAAAAAAAABk/QWriu9KCklQ/s200/rainbows_double_rainbows.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...Non amare chi non potrai mai avere...ti fai solo male...prima o poi finirà e li sarà un'inferno...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...in fiecare zi fac acelasi lucru: vin de la munca super obosita la ore destul de tarzii, intru pe net imi citesc mail-urile, mai fac conversatie, imi fac dus si adorm destul de tarziu dupa miezul noptii...zilele saptamanii trec rapid iar munca nu ma lasa sa ma gandesc la altceva dar ceea ce ma sperie este sfarsitul de saptamana, ma ingrozeste ideea de a sta singura, de a fi singura...nu pot pleca nicaieri singura, fiecare are programul lui asa ca nu poti pretinde nimanui sa stea cu tine...acum a mai venit si frigul...urasc singuratatea...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;...Non puo piovere per sempre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;prima poi splenderà il sole anche nella mia buia vita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;prima o poi apparirà l'arcobaleno nella mia esistenza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;prima o poi...Sarò felice !!! ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-3346708272090439000?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/3346708272090439000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=3346708272090439000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/3346708272090439000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/3346708272090439000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2008/11/marile-sperante.html' title='Marile sperante'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/STA-GDgwAlI/AAAAAAAAABk/QWriu9KCklQ/s72-c/rainbows_double_rainbows.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-7738931314256760131</id><published>2008-11-27T23:17:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T23:22:02.738+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fall'/><title type='text'>Mesaj</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SS8dIUjO6_I/AAAAAAAAABc/DZQNiKlJFRI/s1600-h/Darius+(5).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273465717466786802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SS8dIUjO6_I/AAAAAAAAABc/DZQNiKlJFRI/s200/Darius+(5).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                   ...Drumurile noastre...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cand mai vii in Bucuresti?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cred ca inainte de sarbatori.Nu am planificat nimic mai devreme. De ce?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vroiam sa te vad....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-7738931314256760131?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/7738931314256760131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=7738931314256760131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7738931314256760131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/7738931314256760131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2008/11/mesaj.html' title='Mesaj'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SS8dIUjO6_I/AAAAAAAAABc/DZQNiKlJFRI/s72-c/Darius+(5).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-521741846096445299</id><published>2008-11-25T22:27:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T22:57:46.667+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Doar pentru tine...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxzX0M6peI/AAAAAAAAABE/ibJLhtXBtDI/s1600-h/Ale2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272716116731012578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxzX0M6peI/AAAAAAAAABE/ibJLhtXBtDI/s320/Ale2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxzFU73x4I/AAAAAAAAAA8/peVbsBjUONY/s1600-h/IMG_3526.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272715799100376962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxzFU73x4I/AAAAAAAAAA8/peVbsBjUONY/s320/IMG_3526.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxzEvdQe4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/QsT6CO30RmU/s1600-h/IMG_3413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272715789039860610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxzEvdQe4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/QsT6CO30RmU/s320/IMG_3413.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trebuie sa adaug si doua piese dragi mie, evident de dragoste:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;QUANDO DUE SI LASCIANO&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di noi &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;vedo a terra i pezzi di un amore &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;che hai buttato via &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sono resti di emozioni forti della vita mia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;caramelle troppo amare adesso da mandare giu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo sai &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;m'hai lasciato un grande vuoto &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;dentro che non va piu via&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;per andare avanti devo dire solo colpa mia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;qualche volta ti diventa amica pure una bugia..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quando due si lasciano &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;vivi senza regole &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quanti giorni inutili &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;che schiacciano i perche &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;non si dorme piu &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quando due si lasciano &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cambi le abitudini &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;scrivi mille lettere &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;segreti che nessuno leggera &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ormai &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;il convivere con lo star male non mi pesa piu &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sei arrivato proprio a tutto quello che volevi tu &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tu che spingi sopra questo cuore &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;per buttarlo giu &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quando due si lasciano &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;vivi senza regole &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quanti giorni inutili &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;che schiacciano i perche &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;non si dorme piu &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quando due si lasciano &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cambi le abitudini &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;scrivi mille lettere &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;segreti che nessuno leggera &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ma quando passera &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;per credere che esiste ancora &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;un sogno nella vita mia &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quando due si lasciano &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;gli altri non ti ascoltano &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;si diventa fragilie si piange subito &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quando due si lasciano &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in fondo non si lasceranno maï...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bY_JaHOziEc"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bY_JaHOziEc&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;si...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;LO SO CHE FINIRÀ&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo so che finira &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ho sempre un chiodo fisso nella testa &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Io si lo so che tutto questo non e giusto &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ma prima o poi succedera &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ci saranno giorni senza sole...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Senza piu parole &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo so che finira e sara forte il mio dolore &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Per questo grande amore &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo so che finira &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Il tuo soriso e questo mi fara impazzire &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E quando poi mi mancheranno gli occhi tuoi &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Io provero cercarli e poi fugire &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Non ci saranno notti per amare &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nemeno per sognare &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Un vento forte il tempo tutto poi cancelera &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sarai un vecchio amore &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Per me non finiranno mai quegli anni amari &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ci sono giorni dentro te da ricordare &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ci sara sempre il tuo passato nel futuro &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Che non potro capire &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se a te quel veccio amore non ti fa piu male &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A me mi fa soffrire &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo so che finira ma restera per sempre una canzone &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sara un ricordo per stampare il nostro amore &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Per non avere fini se dovra finire &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ti diro ti amo tanto da morire poi lo dovra sapere&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Che questa vecchia storia e stata scritta con dolore &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dal principe del cuore &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Per me non finiranno mai quegli anni amari &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ci sono giorni dentro te da ricordare &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ci sara sempre il tuo passato nel futuro &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Che non potro capire &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se a te quel veccio amore non ti fa piu male &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A me mi fa soffrire &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ci sara sempre il tuo passato nel futuro &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Che non potro capire &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se a te quel veccio amore non ti fa piu male &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A me mi fa soffrïre&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_09DpNz_Oo"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_09DpNz_Oo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Auditie placuta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/10977945-521741846096445299?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/521741846096445299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=521741846096445299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/521741846096445299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/521741846096445299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2008/11/doar-pentru-tine.html' title='Doar pentru tine...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxzX0M6peI/AAAAAAAAABE/ibJLhtXBtDI/s72-c/Ale2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-2493951707948042924</id><published>2008-11-25T21:52:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T23:01:00.403+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...O mica plimbare prin Iasi...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxtaf9bdgI/AAAAAAAAAAs/3wQBherpLtg/s1600-h/100_0249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272709565767185922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxtaf9bdgI/AAAAAAAAAAs/3wQBherpLtg/s320/100_0249.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxtZ4pv6tI/AAAAAAAAAAk/igL09KlcX8Q/s1600-h/100_0245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272709555215657682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxtZ4pv6tI/AAAAAAAAAAk/igL09KlcX8Q/s320/100_0245.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxqRzT5EUI/AAAAAAAAAAM/bVbZNHP_iiI/s1600-h/100_0187.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272706117807968578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxqRzT5EUI/AAAAAAAAAAM/bVbZNHP_iiI/s320/100_0187.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;             Cand am ajuns in Iasi pe la sfarsitul lui Iulie nu stiam mai nimic decat ceea ce citisem, il vazusem o singura data cand eram mai mica dar practic imi era imposibil sa-mi amintesc...cu ajutorul colegilor m-am plimbat prin Parcul Copou, am stat sub plopii fara sot a lui Eminescu recitand cateva strofe, am admirat frumusetea teiului eminescian comparnadu-l cu un batran care sta linistit pe o prispa si am ramas cu promisiunea ca voi ajunge sa vizitez si bojdeuca marelui Creanga...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...Iasiul are o incarcare istorica, o frumusete aparte si o liniste care-ti mangaie sufletul...spatiile verzi te fac sa traiesti puternic si "proaspat" ca primavara, doar clopotele bisericilor te mai trezesc putin la realitate dar iti incanta auzul iar frumusetea iti bucura privirea...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...Palatul Culturii stapaneste parca tot centrul alaturi de Mitropolie, sambata si duminica putand sa te plimbi linistit prin fata ei si a primariei, circulatia rutiera fiind inchisa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...de atunci au trecut 4 luni iar Noiembrie a venit cu frig, vant, ceata si putina zapada, pana la primavara mai este drum lung iar eu visez la tandafirii minunati din Gradina Botanica care este o splendoare...&lt;/div&gt;&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/10977945-2493951707948042924?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/2493951707948042924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=2493951707948042924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2493951707948042924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/2493951707948042924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2008/11/o-mica-plimbare-prin-iasi.html' title='...O mica plimbare prin Iasi...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SSxtaf9bdgI/AAAAAAAAAAs/3wQBherpLtg/s72-c/100_0249.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-724838499572092787</id><published>2008-06-07T21:59:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T22:02:17.110+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cine ar mai fi crezut....</title><content type='html'>...adesso che sono rientrata spero che riusciro a postare ogni settimana almeno qualcosa....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-724838499572092787?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/724838499572092787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=724838499572092787' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/724838499572092787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/724838499572092787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2008/06/cine-ar-mai-fi-crezut.html' title='Cine ar mai fi crezut....'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-116647541820715660</id><published>2006-12-18T21:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T21:56:58.300+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cesare Pavese</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;" Verra la morte e avra i tuoi occhi"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Verra la morte ed avra i tuoi occhi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; questa morte che ci accompagna&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; dal mattino alla sera,insonne,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sorda, come un vecchio rimorso&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e un vizio assurdo. I tuoi occhi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saranno una vana parola,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;un grido taciuto, un silenzio.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cosi li vedi ogni mattina&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;quando su te sola ti pieghi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nello specchio. O cara speranza,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;quel giorno sapremo anche noi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;che sei la vita e sei il nulla.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Per tutti la morte ha uno sguardo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Verra la morte e avra i tuoi occhi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sara come smettere un vizio,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;come vedere nello specchio&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;riemergere un viso morto,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;come ascoltare un labbro chiuso.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scenderemo nel gorgo muti.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ai putea fi tu cel care ma poate scoate din starea de letargie in care zac de foarte mult timp? ai putea face sa renunt la tot ceea ce am stiut in ultimii ani? Este obisnuinta iubire? As putea scapa de teama de singuratate, de nesiguranta unui nou inceput? poate doar daca a-si stii ca esti doar pentru mine la celalalt capat al telefonului, ca ai scapat de feminitatea trecutului, ca-ti doresti sa te trezesti in fiecare dimineata cu mine alaturi iar seara sa nu simti ca te-ai plictisit...Imi doresc sa am taria sa merg mai departe chiar daca stiu ca cineva va suferi enorm din cauza alegerilor mele. Nu vreau sa sufere nimeni, nu vreau sa port povara suferintei lui, atunci cand eu voi iesi pentru totdeauna din viata lui, vreau sa continui sa-i aud vocea dar doar ca simpli prieteni si sa nu ma urasca pentru ca vreau sa-mi caut fericirea langa altcineva...cer poate prea mult,stiu...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;...iar Tu, fa-ma sa te iubesc, inventeaza in fiecare zi ceva nou si nu ma lasa sa ma plictisesc, nu ma lasa sa ma sting, nu ma lasa sa vreau sa caut mereu, fii tu inceputul si sfarsitul, lasa-a sa te descopar in fiecare zi si nu-mi sufoca intimitatea, nu-mi ingradi placerile, simtirile si sufletul, nu-mi lasa insa iubirea sa hoinareasca la nesfarsit...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-116647541820715660?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/116647541820715660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=116647541820715660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/116647541820715660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/116647541820715660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2006/12/cesare-pavese.html' title='Cesare Pavese'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-116622346487988196</id><published>2006-12-15T23:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-12-16T00:07:52.630+01:00</updated><title type='text'>" Capitolo al mio libro dario "</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;...Spero che il Mondo si scuota di colpo e che in questa centrifuga di vite io e lei potremmo incontrarci di nuovo e chiarire tutte le cose che non abbiamo potuto spiegare: dirci quanto ci vogliamo bene e dormire di nuovo abbracciati, stretti, caldi, teneri e innamorati...mi manchi da morire amore mio...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-116622346487988196?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/116622346487988196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=116622346487988196' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/116622346487988196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/116622346487988196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2006/12/capitolo-al-mio-libro-dario.html' title='&quot; Capitolo al mio libro dario &quot;'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-113871237344691750</id><published>2006-01-31T13:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T13:59:33.470+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Italian language</title><content type='html'>I am learning italian language and I found this :is about a woman and his unborned child:&lt;br /&gt;« Vorrei che tu fossi una donna. Vorrei che tu provassi un giorno cio che provo io : non sono affatto d’accordo con mia madre la quale pensa che nascere donna sia una disgrazia. Lo so : il nostro e un mondo fabbricato dagli uomini per gli uomoni, la loro dittatura e cosi antica che si estende perfino al linguaggio. Si dice uomo per dire uomo e donna, si dice bambino per dire bambino e bambina, si dice omicidio per indicare l’assassinio di un uomo e di una donna. […] Eppure, o proprio per questo, essere donna e cosi affascinante. E un’avventura che richiede un tale coraggio, una sfida che non annoia mai. […] Dovrai batterti continuamente. E spesso, quasi sempre, perderai. Ma non dovrai scoraggiarti. Battersi e molto piu bello che vincere, viaggiare e molto piu bello che arrivare :quando sei arrivato o hai vinto, avverti un gran vuoto. E per superare quel vuoto devi metterti in viaggio di nuovo, crearti nuovi scopi.Ma se nascerai uomo io saro contenta lo stesso. E forse di pui perche ti saranno risparmiate tante umiliazioni, tanti abusi. Se nascerai uomo, ad esempio, non dovrai temere d’essere violentato nel buio di una strada. Non dovrai serviti di un bel viso per essere accettato ap primo sguardo, di un bel corpo per nascondere la tua intelligentza. Non subirai giudizi malvagi quando dormirai con chi ti piace. Naturalmente ti toccheranno altre chiavitu, altre ingiustizie : neanche per un uomo la vita e facile,sai. Poiche avrai i muscoli piu saldi, ti chiederanno di portare fardelli pui pesanti. Poiche avrai barba, rideranno se tu piangi e perfino se hai bisogno di tenerezza. Ti ordineranno di uccidere o essere ucciso alla guerra. Eppure, o proprio per questo, essere un uomo sara un’avventura altrettanto meravigliosa. Se nascerai uomo, spero che sarai un uomo come io l’ho sempre sognato : dolce coi deboli, feroce coi prepotenti, generoso con chi ti vuole bene. » (Oriana Fallaci – Lettera ad un bambino mai nato)…..senza parole&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-113871237344691750?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/113871237344691750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=113871237344691750' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/113871237344691750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/113871237344691750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2006/01/italian-language.html' title='Italian language'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-113110267334106243</id><published>2005-11-04T12:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-04T12:11:13.353+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Revenire!</title><content type='html'>A trecut ceva timp decand nu am mai scris nimic pe bloggul meu...de atunci s-au intamplat multe in viata mea, unele mai bune altele mai rele...probabil ca nimeni nu mi-a simtit lipsa dar asta conteaza mai putin...sper sa reusesc sa scriu de acum inainte macar o data pe saptamana...sincer mi-au lipsit incursiunile mele pe blogg si chiar cei cativa amici cu care mai vorbeam....i hope i will write more soon...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-113110267334106243?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/113110267334106243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=113110267334106243' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/113110267334106243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/113110267334106243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/11/revenire.html' title='Revenire!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111684825388966478</id><published>2005-05-23T13:34:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T13:37:33.896+02:00</updated><title type='text'>My last day of work in this office!</title><content type='html'>Today is my last day of work in this office; I have to be happy but surprisingly I am not. Even if we had misunderstandings and sometimes we argued, I will miss my colleagues…today I had such a bad feeling, but I hope we will continue to speak and maybe from time to time to meet each other and don’t loose contact…I hope it will be better for me and for them too…each o them has own personality and with each I had different and special relationship…I would questionless miss them, all…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Weekend that just passed was a rainy one so a sleepy one, but Saturday I was in a friends house and at night in different clubs but we didn’t stay because for me no one was best, nothing correspond just like small clothes…so we ended our night in a garden where we drunk wine until two o’clock in the morning…In the morning my head just burst…I am trying to finish the book but I just can not, and I don’t know why?...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111684825388966478?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111684825388966478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111684825388966478' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111684825388966478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111684825388966478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/05/my-last-day-of-work-in-this-office.html' title='My last day of work in this office!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111651300655223678</id><published>2005-05-19T16:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-05-19T16:31:17.996+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Resignation.</title><content type='html'>It is long time since I didn’t write, but I see nobody missed me…anyway it is time for me to tell the big secret, that sooner or later everybody will find out (two of my colleagues are not at work)&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; I put my resignation on the table&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;…yes I am quitting my job…these was my big secret and it not all…but I have to put the rest later…maybe some of my colleagues will be happy about this, but I don’t give a s***t on this, maybe one day I will tell them in their face everything I never said…but this is not me…and maybe one of them are really upset about this, and I tell here that if they will need my help I’ll try to do my best…and an advice: don’t believe everything is said or written, people really like to be what they aren’t…Monday is my last day of work in this firm…&lt;br /&gt;What I hate the most are the people that interfere in other lives when they have to see their one lives and that see themselves as they are not, that try to be what they never can be…they pretend to be smarter and better than they are…when you are the only one that see something in a way, you can be wrong, you are one, but when everybody around see in the same way maybe they are right, the same opinion on more people, then appear a question mark :is everybody mad( against one) or is that one mad(against everybody)?...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents’ house was great, my nephew is with every day that passes smarter and dodger( if I forgot to tell I have a five ears old nephew, from my big brother, and I love him more than everything in this world, he is my soul, and I will love him maybe more than my own future children, and he loves me too, maybe he feels my feelings, or is just blood calling…) and makes our lives happier… but then I had bad days too, I made food intoxication, because I have health problems with my colon, so you can imagine the rest…was a full weekend and week until now, and I must confess that one of my colleagues was very surprise about my resignation decision and made me happy to see that they care about me and that they are unhappy about this…&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;This is life!!!&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/10977945-111651300655223678?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111651300655223678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111651300655223678' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111651300655223678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111651300655223678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/05/resignation.html' title='Resignation.'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111590465989856442</id><published>2005-05-12T15:29:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T15:30:59.903+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Comedown!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I was very disappointed by the “Wedding of Figaro” performance. It is true when it is said that the player has the important part in a performance; on the outside programme wrote that the countess player will be performed by Roxana Briban, but when the performance start was no Roxana, and the players just hurt my ears and give me a headache. Maybe I am evil now but the performance sucked, was so bad that when the first break come we left the auditorium. We were so upset that we went to drink something in a garden (I drunk a Tequila Sunrise …yamiii!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                My colleague of work said to me that I am very secretive and I am acting like: I just show the candy and I give to people only the candy glaze to taste…maybe she’s right but for now I can’t tell more than that, but soon you’ll find out…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         This evening I’ll go home, my parents home, to see them and to speak with my mother, I will put fire in my head 6 hours by train until I reach there, it is very important to go home…so no complain…&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;br /&gt;           I am reading Gabriel Garcia Marquez book “A Century of Loneliness” and I must say that this book surprise me with every page I read, is so strange, and I read it until the end only to see how far a mind can go, not because I like it, or maybe I like it but I don’t know ?....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know is early to say but I wish you all a nice and happy weekend!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111590465989856442?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111590465989856442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111590465989856442' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111590465989856442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111590465989856442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/05/comedown.html' title='Comedown!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111564031295559652</id><published>2005-05-09T14:02:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-05-09T14:09:51.483+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;                     &lt;strong&gt;Friday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; I was with an ex university colleague to see a movie, we saw Miss Congeniality 2, a nice comedy. We talked about other colleague of us, the news about them and about our life now, we ate an ice-cream and then we went to our homes. She remain the same, like I know her from university times, and annoys me the people that don’t give a sh..t on their life. If until now she knew only university and home, now she knows only work an home…boring…she works like a slave until late hours in the night and never thinks on her private life, on the pleasures of life, like she will live 2 or 3 lives…but what I know, everybody with his one life…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;                   Saturday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; morning on 7.00 o’clock I was leaving my flat with the intention to go to Brasov, outside was pouring and I wanted to sleep. When I reached on my cousin (A) house, I found her swearing me that I woke her up so early and told me that she didn’t want to go anymore, I want to kill her…from this motive we didn’t leave Bucharest until 9.20, and we get nervous in Mc Donald’s because their services sucks, maybe they were sleeping on their feet more than us he he he!!!...All our way until there rained, and we wondered if it is right to go…but we decided to continue our itinerary…&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;DON’T GIVE UP&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;! Was our slogan…In Brasov (Cristiana) we spent a long time, until 7.00 PM o’clock, in a house of A friends, and they didn’t want to let us go back. They have a big and wonderful house, I was impressed! And they are very hospitable. Our cousins desperately waited us to come in Ploiesti, but we got there on 9.00 o’clock and we started a super party until 4.00 o’clock in the morning, and I must say I get dizzy after 2 pony of a drink that my aunt(R) brought from U.S.A(hmmm…the drink was delicious) …&lt;br /&gt;I felt asleep with the thought that our barbeque planned for &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sunday&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; was compromised because of the weather, but in the morning when I opened my eyes the sun was shining and all day was like that. The barbeque gathered together about 25 people, friends and relatives, and was a great day; we still dance…even if the weekend started disastrous it ended lovely…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A new week  began!!!&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/10977945-111564031295559652?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111564031295559652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111564031295559652' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111564031295559652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111564031295559652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/05/weekend.html' title='Weekend!!!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111538233577304308</id><published>2005-05-06T14:23:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-05-06T14:25:35.780+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy!!!!</title><content type='html'>The Easter Holiday is past now, but for me is still present. Why? From those days my life changed. I must say I am in LOVE!!! I love a man in a way I never do it before! I know my life will change, will be different. I don’t want to confess everything because I think the spell will brake down but I promise to write everything when the next level of our life will be completed. I fell like I am floating, like nothing has sense without him like the whole world is on my feet… I am so HAPPY!!! The rest nothing matters…in this weekend I will go to Brasov(at the mountain) with other cousin of mine(A) and than to my cousin in Ploiesti to make a barbeque and have some fun…everything comes from the inside, if we are happy inside of us everything will look like this in the outside…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       And I forgot to say: “Swan Lake” was absolutely divine – no comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Next week I will go to see two performances: “Baiadera” by Ludwig Minkus and “Le Nozze di Figaro” by W.A. Mozart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       I start another book to read: Henri Francois Rey “Player pianos”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; …&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;In case it comes up today, don't forget: Every end is actually a beginning. Really, it's true. So if something seems to be over before it even got started, that just means its making room for something better.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that 'slam' is the sound of a door closing, but it's true that another one always opens…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111538233577304308?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111538233577304308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111538233577304308' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111538233577304308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111538233577304308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/05/happy.html' title='Happy!!!!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111468050645271445</id><published>2005-04-28T10:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-28T11:28:26.456+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pavel Corut "Ne-om intalni in cer"</title><content type='html'>"... Cel mai cumplit frig nu este cel al iernii. Cel mai cumplit frig e cel din suflet, cand moare dragostea si speranta...&lt;br /&gt;...I-ar fi srutat si urma pasilor, si ultimul capat de vesmant...&lt;br /&gt;...Trecutul apasa ca un mort de care nu trebuie sa pomenesti dar despre care nu te poti minti ca nu exista...&lt;br /&gt;...In dragoste, fiecare isi ia licenta si doctoratul pe cont propriu, fara a plagia. Nu pentru ca n-ar vrea. Nu se poate. Fiecare poveste de dragoste in parte este un unicat, impsibil de copiat sau imitat...&lt;br /&gt;...Acesta e avantajul barbatilor: se pot lecui mai usor, cu o alta femeie. In cazul femeilor, procedeul nu da rezultate decat rareori. Au o constructie mai complicata, cu inclinatii psiho-sentimentale mai profunde...&lt;br /&gt;...N-o sa ma impiedice nimic. Nici macar sentimentele. Sunt prea saraca pentru a-mi permite luxul unor sentimente(Luciana)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ploua cu stele peste noi,&lt;br /&gt;Ardeam in ele goi si sfinti,&lt;br /&gt;Sub mangaierea blandei ploi,&lt;br /&gt;Noi ne visam strabuni, parinti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar astrul ploi' a asfintit,&lt;br /&gt;Pribegi il cautam prin Cer,&lt;br /&gt;Eu n-am ramas, tu m-ai mintit,&lt;br /&gt;Iar intre noi, pustiu si ger...&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Cu bratele intinse,&lt;br /&gt;Eu vreau sa ma primesti,&lt;br /&gt;Caci vom intra in vise&lt;br /&gt;Si-om deveni povesti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aceasta ne e soarta,&lt;br /&gt;S-ajungem semn de flamuri,&lt;br /&gt;Caci vom deschide poarta&lt;br /&gt;Si pacea intre neamuri...&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;...Iubirea mea,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;In lumea noastra, traim o singura viata si aceea foarte scurta. Mi-am dorit s-o traiesc cu tine si pentru tine. N-ai vrut sau n-ai putut. Nu-ti port pica si te iubesc inainte. Asa a fost soarta mea. N-ai fost una din sirul de femei care au trecut prin viata mea. Ai fost si ai ramas Ea, unica, fara rivala. Poate ca mai tarziu, cand vei suferi ca mine, vei intelege ce-am vrut sa-ti spun. Iti doresc fericire in viata! Eu nu te voi deranja niciodata. Cand vei avea nevoie de mine, sa ma cauti! Voi veni cu acelasi suflet cu care m-ai lasat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;R.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Sa strigi, iubito, sa te-aud,&lt;br /&gt;Ca lumea noastra-i in dureri,&lt;br /&gt;Ca, sub destinul rau si crud,&lt;br /&gt;N-avem nici timp de invieri,&lt;br /&gt;N-avem nici vreme sa iubim,&lt;br /&gt;Nu vezi sperantele cum pier,&lt;br /&gt;Cum inseram si asfintim?&lt;br /&gt;Ne-om intalni, iubito-n Cer....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This book kept me awake until two o’clock in the morning, but I don’t regret this, was a great book. All I wrote up is from this book…I know I didn’t translate it in English but I respect very much the author and I want to write his one words, for me this seems to be fair…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Requiem felt all my week with good thoughts and today I will go to see “Swan Lake” performance…I am waiting this hungrily! ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found out that we won’t work tomorrow and Wednesday (May 3 rd) and this pleasure me because we will have a longer vacation (a long Easter) ….so for all that celebrate Easter this weekend I wishing: &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Happy Easter!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111468050645271445?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111468050645271445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111468050645271445' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111468050645271445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111468050645271445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/pavel-corut-ne-om-intalni-in-cer.html' title='Pavel Corut &quot;Ne-om intalni in cer&quot;'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111452041831166752</id><published>2005-04-26T14:59:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-26T15:00:18.313+02:00</updated><title type='text'>No major events</title><content type='html'>I had a great weekend I must say! In this weekend our religion had celebrate one saint (Saint Gheorghe) and Sunday of Florii, so we partied all weekend. Saturday we “walk” from a club into another (he he he!!!) and laugh and drunk and Sunday we had culture night so we went to the national Opera of Bucharest and saw the performance Requiem by Giuseppe Verdi, absolutely marvelous…&lt;br /&gt;          Yesterday I went on my cousin house and we chat, chat and chat a lot (he he he!!!), we ate fried potatoes and we drunk juice, was a nice evening…no major events, only fun…&lt;br /&gt;          I start reading another book: Pavel Corut “We will meet in the sky “&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111452041831166752?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111452041831166752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111452041831166752' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111452041831166752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111452041831166752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/no-major-events.html' title='No major events'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111415965403487327</id><published>2005-04-22T10:45:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-22T13:26:53.286+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Flowers</title><content type='html'>It is so could outside like the autumn is coming and not spring, the rain gives me a fig of sleep... Everyday in my work way I get by a flower shop and the flowers are outside so they spread a lovely smell…I think then at an important question in my life:&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; Why man bring flower to woman only at the beginning of relationship?...&lt;/span&gt;for&lt;/em&gt; me this is a big question because I prefer flowers instead of expensive gifts, I don’t ask bouquets, only one flower and is enough to make me happy. Maybe I saw to many movies where man brings flower and chocolate to woman, but I consider this to be an important thing, not everyday to bring but once in a week…the man with I spent three years from my life brought me less flowers than I remember…I like man to be spontaneous, to do unpremeditated things, to surprise me in different good ways and the most important to have initiative…&lt;br /&gt;….Flowers, flowers, flowers…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Over 1200 people were eviction and almost 2000 people are hard-hit. Water levels recorded these days of nightmare historical numbers (high water mark), especially on rivers Timis, Bega and Barzava. The proportion of disaster: 94 localities (villages, parishes, cities and municipalities) had been affected by flood; almost 12.500 hectares of land are under water; over 5.200 houses and households with annexes are flooded” like this sounds an article in a local newspaper that gave me cold trembling …&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111415965403487327?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111415965403487327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111415965403487327' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111415965403487327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111415965403487327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/flowers.html' title='Flowers'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111407205630885718</id><published>2005-04-21T11:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T10:27:36.310+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad things!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday when I reach to my home I opened the TV to see the news, I was just petrified to see what waters can do, in Timis, rivers go out from their channels and destroyed everything they met in their way. People lost everything they had…fireman came with wheeled tractors to help old woman and man to leave their houses and took them in shelters until the danger passes. In the middle of the village water was so high; it passes from half of a tractor wheel, everything was covered by waters…I watched and I cried for people handful…I am still thinking of this disaster…Words are needless  to describe what I saw…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111407205630885718?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111407205630885718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111407205630885718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111407205630885718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111407205630885718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/sad-things.html' title='Sad things!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111407217192360218</id><published>2005-04-21T10:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T10:29:31.923+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny nigth!</title><content type='html'>Last night I was in a Club (Actors Coffee House). Was Karaoke night and I spent such a great night…uuu mama! … we sang, we laughed, we dance…I had no courage to sing and I drank a martini and my cousin insisted to put us on the sing list, when we finally decided what will sing and we go to put us on the list, in front of us were a lot of people on the list…until our turn came we sang with the rest of the people and our voice hoarsen…so, when our turn came we just simply heehaw (he he he!), we had luck that was too late and the club was almost empty…for us didn’t matter… but we had such a great time…he he he!!!!...We felt so good that promised to do from this a weekly habit…So be it!…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111407217192360218?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111407217192360218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111407217192360218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111407217192360218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111407217192360218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/funny-nigth.html' title='Funny nigth!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111383391310637020</id><published>2005-04-18T16:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T16:18:33.110+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice weekend !</title><content type='html'>I had a wonderful weekend…I had been with my friends (I know this girls for about 9 years but we cool down our relationships, I don’t know why but now I just want to re-establish our relationships…we had great times together in the past and it is time to have again ) and we gossiped, we played card, we walked, had barbeque and we laughed a lot…we felt so good and because of this (and their parents wont be at home next weekend) we decided to do the girls party in pajamas…I wait this impatiently…I met my cousin and we have a few drinks and I felt very good with her…this weekend I felt that I was alive again…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...”&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Love is like an antique vase. It is hard to find, hard to net, but easy to brake&lt;/span&gt;”…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I” send me a photo with him on his new motorbike (a red Kawasaki)…he looks sexy and cool on it but really doesn’t matter for me anymore…I am happy for him because his dream comes true, but just this and nothing more…&lt;br /&gt;…and another decision I had taken: never call my buddy (the one with white Tico car)… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Hardest Things in Love&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-         flashing your smile to someone you don’t want to see;&lt;br /&gt;-         bringing back the feeling you’ve learned to forget;&lt;br /&gt;-         showing that you care;&lt;br /&gt;-         finding a way to mend a broken heart;&lt;br /&gt;-         learning that you’ve been used by someone you truly love;&lt;br /&gt;-         saying “I love you” when you mean it and when you don’t;&lt;br /&gt;-         letting go of a person you’ve just learned to love;&lt;br /&gt;-         realizing that you love somebody you’ve just taken for granted;&lt;br /&gt;-         realizing that you love the person you’ve just broken up with;&lt;br /&gt;-         waiting for promises you know he (she) will never keep;&lt;br /&gt;-         saying your love for someone who loves somebody else;&lt;br /&gt;-         reminiscing the good times you shared together;&lt;br /&gt;-         shielding your heart to love somebody;&lt;br /&gt;-         trying to hide what you really feel;&lt;br /&gt;-         having a commitment with someone that you know would not last;&lt;br /&gt;-         trying to hide the tears that involuntarily fall from your eyes;&lt;br /&gt;-         sharing the one you love with someone else;&lt;br /&gt;-         loving a person too much;&lt;br /&gt;-         giving up someone you never thought of giving up;&lt;br /&gt;-         falling in love for the first time;&lt;br /&gt;-         loving someone you haven’t seen;&lt;br /&gt;-         having the right love at the wrong time;&lt;br /&gt;-         exerting effort to make the relationship last or work;&lt;br /&gt;-         hiding your relationship from someone else;&lt;br /&gt;-         controlling your feelings to avoid hurting a friend;&lt;br /&gt;-         choosing between two persons whom you really love;&lt;br /&gt;-         finding out that you can never have the person you just let go of back;Seeing the person you love with someone else&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111383391310637020?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111383391310637020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111383391310637020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111383391310637020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111383391310637020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/nice-weekend.html' title='Nice weekend !'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111354949196996099</id><published>2005-04-15T10:16:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-15T09:18:11.970+02:00</updated><title type='text'>New life</title><content type='html'>Today I said &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;ENOUGH&lt;/span&gt; with past, with hurts, with bad thinking, with everything that made my life so miserable … today I start a new life, a life full of happiness, of joy, of good thinking…it is time for me to move on…why to hurt my hart and my feelings with things that really doesn’t matter? Why to suffer after people that they think only on them, only on their life and good? We have only ONE LIFE and this is too short to do whatever we want to do, so why I have to loose my precious time? ...TODAY IS MY RECONSTRUCTION DAY … I won’t do bad things to people but I will treat them exactly how they treat me… no more pain, no more crying nights, no more living in the past…&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;IT IS TIME TO RESPECT MY ONE LIFE&lt;/span&gt;…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111354949196996099?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111354949196996099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111354949196996099' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111354949196996099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111354949196996099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/new-life.html' title='New life'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111348551379336256</id><published>2005-04-14T16:32:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T15:31:53.796+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Amintiri</title><content type='html'>Astazi am vorbit la telefon cu cel care mi-a facut inima sa zboare, trebuie sa marturisesc ca m-am gandit mult in ultimul timp la el, mai ales ca am dat peste un CD cu fotografii facute impreuna in parc si bineinteles ca m-au rascolit...a fost singura persoana alaturi de care am vrut sa-mi petrec restul zilelor(poate ca am mai precizat asta odata)...&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;nu a fost sa fie&lt;/span&gt;...este expresia cea mai potrivita atunci cand lucrurile nu stau asa cum am vrea...Mi-a spus ca maine isi va cumpara motor,ma bucur foarte mult pentru el stiu cat de mult si-a dorit acest lucru -&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt; un vis devine realitate pentru el&lt;/span&gt; - nu stiu de ce ma mai chinuie amintirile legate de el,ar trebui sa las trecutul si sa ma gandesc la viitor...poate ca prezentul ma face sa ma gandesc la trecut (la el),deoarece m-am speriat cand am realizat ca nu m-am simtit langa nici un barbat asa cum m-am simtit langa el...ideile,gandurile toate sunt intr-o invalmaseala totala,mintea imi este invaluita in ceata si nu vad lumina nici a unui far...viitorul nici atat...poate peste un timp am sa scriu despre fericirile mele si toate aceste lucruri vor fi ramas doar ca niste simple zile pline de amaraciune si deznadejde...POATE...&lt;br /&gt;...am vorbit cu o fosta colega de facultate aseara(cu N),care mi-a spus ca a avut un accident cu masina,a incercat sa evite un caine care i-a iesit in fata si din sperietura a tras dreapta de volan si a intrat intr-un copac lovindu-se la buza si la barbie...nu a reusit sa-mi povesteasca prea multe pentru ca i se termina bateria la telefon,sper sa reusesc sa vorbesc cu ea astazi...imi pare atat de rau de ea...Numai despre accidente aud in ultima vreme,pentru ca astazi am vorbit si cu o prietena(A) care mi-a spus ca J a avut si ea accident de masina,dar ca nu are nimic grav...Multumesc lui Dumnezeu ca este totul bine,chiar ma doare cand aud astfel de vesti...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111348551379336256?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111348551379336256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111348551379336256' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111348551379336256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111348551379336256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/amintiri.html' title='Amintiri'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111338056381005872</id><published>2005-04-13T10:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T10:22:43.813+02:00</updated><title type='text'>If</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;…If we manage to give up in five minutes on things and people without resentfulness, how good will be…but I can’t no matter how hard I try…&lt;br /&gt;…these days I were very disappointed by people around me, I don’t think is fare to accuse (mistrust) someone without having a real proof …these are the people, maybe I expect to much on them, or who knows?...I get at the conclusion that in my relation with people I have to use more often the word “WHATEVER”…People always drew down misery and probably nothing or no one will stop them to do it in the future, so I just have to manage to blow off their malice…&lt;br /&gt;…I start to read again books (stopped for two weeks), and this make me feel better; now I am reading Thomas Hardy – “Romance in a tower” …&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…I didn’t do solecisms or I become boring? … No comment from my anonymous (bashinik)…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…if I could give up, I will be happy…   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111338056381005872?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111338056381005872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111338056381005872' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111338056381005872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111338056381005872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/if.html' title='If'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111331303874276565</id><published>2005-04-12T16:37:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T10:23:16.380+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Amy Brown</title><content type='html'>Today, on the net i found an interesting site: &lt;a href="http://www.amybrownart.com"&gt;www.amybrownart.com&lt;/a&gt; ...she draws divine...i liked it very much...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111331303874276565?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111331303874276565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111331303874276565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111331303874276565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111331303874276565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/amy-brown.html' title='Amy Brown'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111296291325524998</id><published>2005-04-08T14:20:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-11T09:23:55.293+02:00</updated><title type='text'>....Fears...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Coming Home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are coming home at night:&lt;br /&gt;you pass from light to light,&lt;br /&gt;walking around the block,&lt;br /&gt;and your shadow swings to the right&lt;br /&gt;the way a second hand&lt;br /&gt;goes round a modern clock,&lt;br /&gt;and other shadows, bound&lt;br /&gt;to your footsteps, climb the walls,&lt;br /&gt;or jerk along the pavement,&lt;br /&gt;and some contrast and darken,&lt;br /&gt;others lengthen and fade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lights are various loves&lt;br /&gt;by whom you find your way,&lt;br /&gt;by whom you see and move:&lt;br /&gt;they lend you guidance, they&lt;br /&gt;enable you to find&lt;br /&gt;not only house and door,&lt;br /&gt;and wall and window-blind,&lt;br /&gt;but something less and more,&lt;br /&gt;your image, multiplied,&lt;br /&gt;cast for your gaze, and thrown&lt;br /&gt;distorted, but your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what you need the most,&lt;br /&gt;O walker in the night,&lt;br /&gt;is to continue, sure&lt;br /&gt;the self is always right,&lt;br /&gt;and neither caricature,&lt;br /&gt;nor unavailing ghost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if a light is broken,&lt;br /&gt;if one of them goes out,&lt;br /&gt;as well they may, of course,&lt;br /&gt;and substance takes from shadow&lt;br /&gt;its absolute divorce,&lt;br /&gt;be reassured, in darkness,&lt;br /&gt;the self is never lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Rolfe Humphries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...another week is ending and my weekend will be the same as other that passed, bouring and full of fears...&lt;br /&gt;....maybe i am like every other woman you have ever passed on the street but never took notice of, full of new thoughts and ideas, while sometimes quiet and contemplative; I have had great losses and wonderful wins, moments I have wanted to save in time and times I'd like to forgot...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Silence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;If&lt;/span&gt; I were asked to name my fears one by one, I could tell them easily to an empty room with no need for any subterfuge at all. Everything inside my head would tumble out in a great big wash of words, like a river flowing from my mouth. And it would go on and on at great lengths until at last there was nothing left to say, no secrets to keep, no hurts too raw to mention, no one thing to put up its hands and stop me on my way...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;And&lt;/span&gt; yet I have told this empty room more times that I have ever dared to count, adding this baggage to my house, where even the walls have been taught to keep their council ... They know me far better than I would have them know me, having tasted the salt from my tears and listened to them fall much like a lover unable to offer more than its own four walls...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;But&lt;/span&gt; my needs do not reduce. If anything I find myself needing more. Much like the captain of my own small ship scanning the darkness hoping to find welcoming light of a beacon and a safe harbor to sail into. But here I am adrift despite floating on a calm, cold sea and I can see for miles. But everything of what I see is everything of what I've already known, and my progress is impeded... I am rallying myself to do what needs to be done. To seek guidance from those much wiser than myself and my years of talking to walls with no hopes of being heard. I must kill this silence in me before this silence can do more to tear me apart. Bravely walking to a new future where ghosts of the past won't be allowed to continue their haunting. And I must be uncomfortable, far outside my comfort zone to accomplish my task. For if I must trade one mask for another, I choose to put my brave face on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...for all of this i must say something that i really love:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Eleanor Roosevelt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another favorite ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing what's going to happen next."&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Gilda Radner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;the end&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111296291325524998?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111296291325524998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111296291325524998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111296291325524998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111296291325524998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/fears_08.html' title='....Fears...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111294729983489316</id><published>2005-04-08T09:52:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-08T10:01:39.836+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fears</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In the words&lt;/em&gt; of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Lucille Clifton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;there&lt;/span&gt; is a girl inside&lt;br /&gt;she is randy as a wolf&lt;br /&gt;she will not walk away&lt;br /&gt;and leave these bones&lt;br /&gt;to an old woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;She&lt;/span&gt; is a green tree&lt;br /&gt;in a forest of kindling&lt;br /&gt;she is a green girl&lt;br /&gt;in a used poet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;She&lt;/span&gt; has waited&lt;br /&gt;patient as a nun&lt;br /&gt;for the second coming&lt;br /&gt;when she can break through gray hairs into blossom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;And&lt;/span&gt; her lovers will harvest honey and thyme&lt;br /&gt;and the woods will be wild&lt;br /&gt;with the damn wonder of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111294729983489316?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111294729983489316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111294729983489316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111294729983489316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111294729983489316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/fears.html' title='Fears'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111279420573388174</id><published>2005-04-06T15:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T15:30:05.733+02:00</updated><title type='text'>without</title><content type='html'>..."One candle dont loose nothing if it kindles another candle"...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111279420573388174?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111279420573388174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111279420573388174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111279420573388174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111279420573388174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/without.html' title='without'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111278148890537246</id><published>2005-04-06T12:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T11:58:08.906+02:00</updated><title type='text'>...Anonymous....</title><content type='html'>One thing surprised me, another person is reading my blogger and criticize how I write in English …this is good for me, is constructive, I will improve my English…and really this criticizes doesn’t bother me, actually reminds me what my grandmother said to me: if people speak about you this mean that you exist and you are not a common woman, this has to make you happy even if they speak about you with bad words…so thank you for your comments, &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;anonymous &lt;/span&gt;man or woman…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;….last night I had a depressive moment, I just listen music( my old tape with Marc Antony) and cried…I remembered that I lost the only man I have ever loved, the only man that made me fly, that made my hart burned in big flames…and now I am so alone…&lt;br /&gt;…Formerly I said to a colleague of mine that our happiness wont have to be based on men…that we can be happy with or without them, but now I have to say this is not true, this was totally wrong…I need a man beside me to love me, to treat me kind, but above this is my need to love, to give what is best in me for him, to have again the feeling that he is the most important person in the whole world…&lt;br /&gt;…maybe I have to blame spring for my behavior or…I don’t know who or what…or maybe is just me…&lt;br /&gt;…for the Easter period I received an invitation to go in Italy, I don’t know what to do…I don’t know how many free days  I will have…I just don’t know…I have to think twice on this problem….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111278148890537246?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111278148890537246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111278148890537246' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111278148890537246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111278148890537246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/anonymous.html' title='...Anonymous....'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111261818560339200</id><published>2005-04-04T15:26:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T16:50:59.576+02:00</updated><title type='text'>...another monday day...</title><content type='html'>....&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Home&lt;/span&gt; was great with my parents...my nephew made five years old and we celebrate his birthday,he was so happy and so were we...for me this days were great,full of love,happiness and good time for my soul...i take my exam,so i have two things to feel great...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111261818560339200?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111261818560339200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111261818560339200' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111261818560339200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111261818560339200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/04/another-monday-day.html' title='...another monday day...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111227762593480690</id><published>2005-03-31T16:58:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T16:25:22.130+02:00</updated><title type='text'>...Home...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;....&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;today i had an exam...I am happy, i did the best i can and I think it will be just fine, i will take my diploma and I will have another calification: labour protection person....it is good for my Career and for my spirit...a new weekend will come, i hope to spend it with my family at my home...i think tomorrow after my exam will pass and after my work hour, i will take the train and go &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;home&lt;/span&gt; to my parents...i need this...i need to put order in my life, in my thoughts....&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/10977945-111227762593480690?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111227762593480690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111227762593480690' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111227762593480690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111227762593480690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/03/home.html' title='...Home...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111209718384606862</id><published>2005-03-29T13:20:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-03-29T13:53:03.850+02:00</updated><title type='text'>...Doubts...</title><content type='html'>Saturday night I were mounting the stairs to the flat I am staying alone for a year… my legs hurt me very bad, because other shoes I wear past days doesn’t feat right. I were coming home after a night spent with a man I hadn’t seen for a long time, his phone surprised me, in a good way…the night begun well…he looked very well and his behavior was lovely, like a real gentleman… he present me his new car and he droved me in the city, he want us to go in M.C (a club with live music)…we arrived there too early, so he invited me to eat something, so we go to eat pizza in A.C, I didn’t want, it were to late for me to eat…because we left the car to far we decided to walk until there, the weather was excellent, we laugh very much, we talk, we kiss… After a wile we decided to return to M.C, there we didn’t find any empty sits, so we decided to go in another place, we didn’t know where so he took me about the car for a long time in the city…and finally we decided to go in D…There us staid for short time because he go outside of the bar to speak on the phone, and when he came back he was more dead than alive, I asked him what happened but he responded me that he doesn’t want to speak about this, and that for him are bad news. For that moment nothing was the same, he changed completely, with 360 degrees… I tried to do something to make him feel better but everything was in vane, the rest of the night was lost. I tried to understand him, but I think I didn’t deserve this treatment, no matter the reasons were, but this is life…&lt;br /&gt;…and when I were mounting the stairs I thought that I never did something out of commune(extravagant) like to walk with empty foots when I feel pain in my legs, or to sing and dance in the rain (even if the rain was in the summer) or other things…I always were a person that think too munch before doing a thing, to serious, I realized I never knew to join my life, to appreciate every moment , every person beside me…I NEVER KNEW TO LIVE MY LIFE AS IT WERE THE LAST MOMENT…&lt;br /&gt;I need to change, I need something or someone new in my life that can show me  I can spend (join) my life in different ways…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111209718384606862?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111209718384606862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111209718384606862' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111209718384606862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111209718384606862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/03/doubts.html' title='...Doubts...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111176381502380376</id><published>2005-03-25T16:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-03-25T16:16:55.023+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Changes....</title><content type='html'>Seems that i have to write in english what i have to say....today on blogger i found a man that in his photo has a mask..like a dragon...this remind me of my dragon friend,a very nice person...this man on the blogger is such a crazy man...i like him...and i hope we can write eachother...&lt;br /&gt;english is an international language, so i have to write in english,maybe like this this man will write me....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111176381502380376?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111176381502380376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111176381502380376' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111176381502380376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111176381502380376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/03/changes.html' title='Changes....'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111167751354084771</id><published>2005-03-24T16:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-03-24T16:18:33.540+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Teama...</title><content type='html'>astazi am aflat ceva care ma sperie...care ma face sa ma gandesc la existenta mea...este posibil sa nu iau salariul...un fior rece imi strabate sira spinarii...ce fac eu?...ce fac cu chiria, cu toate lucrurile de care am nevoie sa traiesc,cum imi achit datoriile la stat?...intrebari grele...fara raspuns...ma rog ca toate aceste intrebari sa dispara cat mai repede,sa se rezolve problemele si sa-mi dea salariul,pentru ca altfel nu stiu ce am sa fac...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stiu ca astazi am iesit un pic din tipar,am scris despre mine si nu despre viata,asa cum fac de obicei...imi pare rau ca sylvia nu a mai dat nici un semn de viata,mi-ar fi placut sa legam o prietenie frumoasa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am mult de invatat pentru examenul de saptamana viitoare,si sper sa reusesc sa-l trec cu bine, astazi am muncit mult la referatul pe care trebuie sa-l fac si ma simt cam obosita,dar nu ma plang...trec ele toate...am crezut si am sperat mereu, nu se poate sa ma lasi tocmai acum...stiu ca Ai grija de mine...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111167751354084771?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111167751354084771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111167751354084771' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111167751354084771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111167751354084771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/03/teama.html' title='Teama...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-111115916984146935</id><published>2005-03-18T15:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-03-18T16:19:29.846+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...Rautate....</title><content type='html'>Astazi am fost la la o manastire...desi cred foarte mult in Dumnezeu nu prea stiu eu randuielile bisericesti,stiu ce este mai important :sa ai frica de Dumnezeu si sa faci cat mai mult bine,si oricum fiecare biserica are randuielile ei...asa ca inarmata cu o lumanare si un acatist am inceput sa intreb niste femei unde pot sa-l pun...atat mi-a trebuit,pe langa ca ma priveau ca pe cineva plin de bube sau cine stie ce alta boala,nici nu s-au sinchisit sa-mi raspunda... este casa Domnului,in care intrii cu ganduri bune cu suflet curat, ma intreb de ce mai intra daca pana si acolo sunt rai...am plecat foarte suparata si dezamagita, mai rau decat intrasem, si am realizat inca o data cat de rai sunt cei din jur...nu ceream nimic, decat o simpla si banala informatie...intram sa cerem, dar niciodata nu facem nimic sa rasplatim ceea ce ni se ofera in fiecare zi, se uita de dragoste, de afectiune, de un cuvant bun,frumos...totul se rezuma la bani, cat de multi avem, cati poti sa oferi...sunt pur si simplu dezgustata...sa intrii in casa Domnului, sa te arunci pe jos in rugaciuni, sa faci totul din fatarnicie?...de ce?...cand ai putea sa te rogi frumos, fara sa ti se simta prezenta, sa multumesti, sa ceri, sa speri, apoi sa pleci cu sufletul curat si cu dorinta de a face bine si de a nu mai repeta greselile facute pana atunci fata de cei din jur, sa te uiti le cel de langa tine gandul de a-l ajuta daca are nevoie, nu sa vrei sa profiti de el...&lt;br /&gt;....si cum incercam sa ma rog neocupand prea mult loc, mai mai sa nu ma calce pe si sa ma loveasca o femeie care incerca sa pupe o icoana, nici nu am vrut sa o privesc de frica sa nu cumva sa gandesc rau...repet aceste cuvinte ori de cate ori am ocazia:daca am fi putin mai buni cu cel de langa noi, ne-ar fi tuturor atat de bine, ne distrugem singuri, unul pe altul...cand am putea sa avem atata fericire si liniste...&lt;br /&gt;...stiam ca exista atata rautate dar nu m-am gandit ca poate merge atat de departe...&lt;br /&gt;Imi plac aceste cuvinte la nebunie...de aceea trebuie sa le asez si aici:&lt;br /&gt;   Octavian Paler - Paradoxul vremurilor noastre          Paradoxul vremurilor noastre in istorie este ca avem cladiri mai mari,dar suflete mai mici; autostrazi mai largi,dar minti mai inguste.               Cheltuim mai mult, dar avem mai putin; cumparam mai mult, dar ne bucuram mai putin.               Avem case mai mari, dar familii mai mici, Avem mai multe accesorii, dar mai putin timp; avem mai multe functii, dar mai putina minte, mai multe cunostinte, dar mai putina judecata; mai multi experti si totusi mai multe probleme, mai multa medicina, dar mai putina sanatate.               Bem prea mult, fumam prea mult, cheltuim prea nesabuit, radem prea putin, conducem prea repede, ne enervam prea tare, ne culcam prea tarziu, ne sculam prea obositi, citim prea putin, ne uitam prea mult la televizor si ne rugam prea rar.               Ne-am multiplicat averile, dar ne-am redus valorile.               Vorbim prea mult, iubim prea rar si uram prea des. Am invatat cum sa ne castigam existenta, dar nu cum sa ne facem o viata.               Am adaugat ani vietii si nu viata anilor. Am ajuns pana la luna si inapoi dar avem probleme cand trebuie sa traversam strada sa facem cunostinta cu un vecin. Am cucerit spatiul cosmic, dar nu si pe cel interior. Am facut lucruri mai mari, dar nu mai bune. Am curatataerul, dar am poluat solul. Am cucerit atomul, dar nu si prejudecatile noastre.               Scriem mai mult, dar invatam mai putin.               Planuim mai multe, dar realizam mai putine. Am invatat sa ne grabim, dar nu si sa asteptam. Am construit mai multe calculatoare: sa detina mai multe informatii, sa produca mai multe copii ca niciodata, dar comunicam din ce in ce mai putin.               Acestea sunt vremurile fast-food-urilor si digestiei incete; oamenilor mari si caracterelor meschine; profiturilor rapide si relatiilor superficiale.               Acestea sunt vremurile in care avem doua venituri, dar mai multe divorturi, case mai frumoase, dar camine destramate.               Acestea sunt vremurile in care avem excursii rapide, scutece de unica folosinta, moralitate de doi bani, aventuri de-o noapte, corpuri supraponderale si pastile care iti induc orice stare de la bucurie la liniste si la moarte. Sunt niste vremuri in care sunt prea multe vitrine, dar nimic in interior.                Vremuri in care tehnologia iti poate aduce aceasta scrisoare si in care poti decide fie sa impartasesti acest punct de vedere, fie sa stergi acest mesaj.               Aminteste-ti sa-ti petreci timp cu persoanele iubite, pentru ca nu vor fi langa tine o eternitate.               Aminteste-ti sa spui o vorba buna copilului care te venereaza, pentru ca acel copil va creste curand si va pleca de langa tine.               Aminteste-ti sa-l imbratisezi cu dragoste pe cel de langa tine pentru ca aceasta este singura comoara pe care o poti oferi cu inima  si nu te costa nimic.               Aminteste-ti sa spui "TE IUBESC" partenerului si persoanelor pe care le indragesti, dar mai ales sa o spui din inima. O sarutare si o imbratisare vor alina durerea atunci cand sunt sincere.               Aminteste-ti sa-i tii pe cei dragi de mana si sa pretuiesti  acel moment pentru ca intr-o zi acea persoana nu va mai fi langa tine.               Fa-ti timp sa iubesti, fa-ti timp sa vorbesti, fa-ti timp sa impartasesti gandurile pretioase pe care le ai.&lt;br /&gt;...si aceste cuvinte sunt minunate:&lt;br /&gt;Emma Bombeck  Daca mi-as putea trai din nou viata...  “...M-as fi culcat sa ma odihnesc atunci cind ma simteam rau, in loc sa pretind ca pamintul se va opri daca eu nu voi fi la datorie pentru o zi....As fi ars luminarea roz sculptata ca un trandafir in loc sa o las sa se topeasca in camara ....As fi vorbit mai putin si as fi ascultat mai mult ....As fi invitat prieteni la masa chiar daca e o pata pe covor si canapeaua trebuie stearsa....As fi mincat pop-corn in camera "buna" si nu mi-as mai fi facut atitea griji din cauza prafului cind cineva vroia sa aprinda focul in semineu ....Mi-as fi facut timp sa-l ascult pe bunicul povestind din tineretile lui....N-as fi insistat niciodata sa mergem cu geamurile masinii inchise intr-o zi frumoasa de vara doar pentru ca parul meu a fost proaspat coafat si fixat....As fi stat intinsa pe pajiste cu toate petele de iarba....As fi plans si ras mai putin privind televizorul si mai mult privind viata....Dar, cel mai mult, sa am o a doua sansa de la viata, as pretui fiecare moment, l-as privi cu adevarat...l-as trai......Nu m-as mai agita atit de mult pentru lucruri meschine si marunte....Nu va faceti griji din cauza celor care nu va simpatizeaza, sau mai mult, cine ce face....In schimb, sa pretuim prietenii pe care ii avem si oamenii care ne iubesc....Sa ne gindim la lucrurile cu care Dumnezeu ne-a binecuvintat....Si la ceea ce facem in fiecare zi sa ne imbunatatim mintea, trupul,sufletul, emotiile.”&lt;br /&gt;...mult adevar si putin realizam din ele in fiecare zi...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-111115916984146935?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/111115916984146935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=111115916984146935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111115916984146935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/111115916984146935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/03/rautate.html' title='...Rautate....'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-110976215206787482</id><published>2005-03-02T09:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T12:15:52.070+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...Flacari...</title><content type='html'>Aseara am ascultat noua melodie a celor de la VH2-"Departe de noi",superba piesa,frumos spus: Iubirile trec, amintirile raman...Aseara am plans, a trecut mult timp decand nu am mai plans...&lt;br /&gt;    ...Rautatea celor din jur este de nedescris, oamenii uita de unde au plecat,valorile morale au inceput sa piarda in fata ipocriziei,a pozitiei pe scara ierarhica,a banilor,a indecentei,a lucrurilor atat de lumesti...o data cineva mi-a zis: traieste tu pentru viata de apoi, ca eu traiesc pentru asta...Poate ca avea dreptate,ca nu s-a intors nimeni de acolo sa spuna cum este...si totusi sa traiesti asa fara nici o regula,fara nici o urma de decenta...Cea mai mare arta este aceea ca indiferent ce  ti se intampla in viata, sa stii sa ramai om...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;        Banii&lt;/strong&gt;...&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;un singur cuvant ascunde atatea lucruri rele,atatea pacate adunate in el: tradare, minciuna, furt, ura, dependenta...pun semnul egal si scriu DECADENTA...&lt;br /&gt;...nu incetam niciodata sa vrem ce are cel de langa noi: bani, lucruri, chiar si persoane...de ce intotdeauna ce are cel de langa tine pare a fi mai bun?...pana la urma asa este firea umana, sa tanjeasca,sa vrea si cred ca n-ar fi o problema sa se ramana la acest stadiu de a  gandi...grav este atunci cand prin orice imprejurari vrei sa si iei ce are cel de langa tine, atunci se fura, si mai grav este cand vrei sa furi persoana de langa celalalt, atuci se atinge apogeul rautatii...pentru ca pedeapsa nu exista decat de la Dumnezeu...daca furi legea te face sa platesti, daca distrugi relatia dintre doi oameni nu exista nici o lege pentru asta...mai ales ca nici macar constiinta nu mai exista...si totusi pedeapsa divina este mai presus de orice alta lege sau pedeapsa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De cativa ani incoace sta langa mine un barbat care in fiecare zi imi demonstreaza cat de mult ma iubeste, care este langa mine in toate momentele grele, care ma sprijina neconditionat...cu rusine recunosc ca nu m-am purtat cu el asa cum ar fi meritat...cineva spunea ca iubirea este de doua feluri: cea care vine cu fiori in stomac, care arde in flacari se consuma si se termina la fel  cum a inceput si pe care doar cei nesabuiti o cauta si o vor; si cea care vine treptat, care se bazeaza pe prietenie, respect, care arde mocnit si nu se consuma, nu se termina si pe care toti ceilalti(cu exceptia nesabuitilor) o cauta, o doresc...eu cred ca intru in prima categorie si nu-mi explic de ce, poate ca-mi place sa traiesc viata la maxim, desi nu am practicat niciodata relatiile de tipul "one night stand" si nici cele in care partea materiala sa primeze...poate ca-mi place sa ard intens, sa ma sting pentru ca apoi flacara sa izbucneasca mai intens ca prima data...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-110976215206787482?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/110976215206787482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=110976215206787482' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/110976215206787482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/110976215206787482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/03/flacari.html' title='...Flacari...'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-110932616266820887</id><published>2005-02-25T10:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-02-25T11:09:22.670+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Vino la mine!</title><content type='html'>...timpul se indreapta cu pasi repezi spre viitor,uneori am impresia ca mult prea repede,imi da senzatia ca nu mai fac intr-o zi tot ceea ce mi-as dori...in jurnalul meu de acasa incep sa scriu si las frazele neteminate,filele albe,parca nu a-si mai avea timp,parca mi-ar fugi inspiratia...desi garsoniera mea este singurul loc in care ma regasesc,in care ma simt bine,am ajuns totusi sa strig catre el,un necunoscut...Vino la mine!...vreau sa ma indragostesc,vreau sa iubesc si sa fiu iubita in acelasi timp,la extrem,vreau sa simt ca traiesc din nou,vreau sa ies din monotonia care s-a asezat peste viata mea...&lt;br /&gt;Niciodata nu am fost inconjurata de prieteni pentru ca sunt rari cei adevarati si de cate ori am incercat sa-mi fac,toti s-au dovedit ca-si urmareau doar interesul...vreau un grup cu care sa facem nebuniile varstei,sa simt ca viata nu trece pe langa mine ci prin mine...&lt;br /&gt;Ascult Cd-ul cu muzica de dragoste al unei colege si-mi aduc aminte de I,cel langa care am simtit ca traiesc,si desi am suferit am fost si fericita,pentru ca am iubit la extrem...nu-mi pare rau...&lt;br /&gt;...Vino la mine!,lasa-ma sa te iubesc,sa-ti daruiesc fiecare clipa a existentei mele,sa zburam spre infinitele culori ale curcubeului fericirii si inlantuiti sa ramanem pana la ultima suflare...&lt;br /&gt;...Sunt ca o cetate greu de cucerit,si totusi imi doresc un locuitor,unul care sa ma faca mai frumoasa,sa aiba grija sa nu ajung in ruina....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-110932616266820887?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/110932616266820887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=110932616266820887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/110932616266820887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/110932616266820887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/02/vino-la-mine_25.html' title='Vino la mine!'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10977945.post-110898006843095951</id><published>2005-02-21T20:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-02-21T11:01:42.073+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Nemultumiri</title><content type='html'>...tot timpul exista...niciodata nu putem sa fim pe deplin multumiti...si cu toate astea a trecut ceva timp de cand nu mi-am mai gasit linistea interioara...&lt;br /&gt;Weekend-ul care tocmai a trecut am fost la o nunta...doua persoane trecute peste 40 ani au hotarat sa-si uneasca din nou destinele,fiecare avusesera familie si copii,copii care acum au la randul lor copii...si ma gandeam cat curaj si cata hotarare...desi pentru mine ar fi timpul sa-mi intemeiez o famile (timpul pe care altii il vad firesc),nu as putea face asta,cel putin nu sunt inca pregatita pentru asta...O veste care m-a tulburat din nou :o fosta colega de facultate este insarcinata...si din nou acel mare apel si mare semn de intrebare..unde se grabesc?...apoi ma ganedesc ca fiecare stie ce este mai bine pentru el...si din nou raspunsul pentru mine...eu n-as putea sa fac asta,unii ar numi-o egoism,eu spun doar ca nu sunt pregatita,nu asi avea rabdarea necesara pentru asta.&lt;br /&gt;La nunta,dupa obiceiurile noastre,cand i-a dat voalul din cap miresei pentru a-i pune baticul de femeie maritata,trebuie ca voalul sa fie pus pe capul unei tinere nemaritate,intamplarea a facut sa fiu singura nemaritata..asa ca m-am trezit cu voalul de mireasa pe cap...l-am simtit ca o povara,desi este foarte usor,il simteam ca si cum ar fi avut cateva kilograme...am mai primit si buchetul miresei cu urarile de rigoare :sa fie intr-un ceas bun,anul asta sa-l dai pe al ta mai departe...prostii...mie imi venea sa urlu si daca n-ar fi fost atat de multa lume a-si fi fugit cat ma tineau picioarele...urasc chestia asta...&lt;br /&gt;...si uite asa ....nemultumirile vin din singuratate,din cauza serviciului(care nu-mi pune calitatile in valoare,care nu-mi permite sa ma afirm) care desi este relativ bine platit nu-mi implineste sufletul,imi doresc sa-l schimb...si am sa o fac...imi spun in fiecare zi ca trebuie sa schimb ceva...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10977945-110898006843095951?l=wildhera.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/feeds/110898006843095951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10977945&amp;postID=110898006843095951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/110898006843095951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10977945/posts/default/110898006843095951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wildhera.blogspot.com/2005/02/nemultumiri.html' title='Nemultumiri'/><author><name>wildhera</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910080531990531979</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TN3JxE6ALYI/SfOOtEnODpI/AAAAAAAAADs/OybnJLErnd8/S220/100_2438.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
