<?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-6617928536836211543</id><updated>2011-11-14T02:43:58.364+02:00</updated><category term='sentimente ravasite prin sertarele sufletului'/><category term='Poezii'/><category term='Pt voi...'/><title type='text'>Greseli arse</title><subtitle type='html'>Certainty is an assasin! And it already killed me....</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-7461544305231042267</id><published>2011-10-03T18:41:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T18:41:56.743+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente ravasite prin sertarele sufletului'/><title type='text'>Reflexie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5QF99kpP54I/TonXSxRpmbI/AAAAAAAAAJg/gE1Sl6f53kw/s1600/userlay307664.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" kca="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5QF99kpP54I/TonXSxRpmbI/AAAAAAAAAJg/gE1Sl6f53kw/s200/userlay307664.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; O tacere grea de incapatanare se aprinde in ochi... O scanteie aproape nesemnificativa de ura incolteste in spatele trasaturilor drepte. Figura perplexa priveste in gol. In golul unde aerul e imbaxit de ipocrizie, unde imaginile vagi ale actiunilor intentionate se ingramadesc intr-un musuroi de dusmani vociferand spre lumea reala ca spre un copil ce isi strange jucariile in brate fara a dori sa le ofere.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Vocea dinainte ce moraliza trecutul, isi pierde sunetele rasfirate printre frunze uscate de roua tarzie. Degetul indreptat acuzator se atinge in oglinda simtind vibratia propriei condamnari, bucata de nisip ars devenind un rau sclipitor de reprosuri, fiecare ciob soptind arogant reflexia luminii inecate de plumb. Acele din petalele ce raspandesc venin de inferioritare, se frang in clopotul de cristal ce acopera ultima frimitura de sensibil, de suav...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ramasa fara adapostul metamorfozant, cupola transparenta se lasa vazuta de perlele negre adapostite de scoica goala, rotunda. Muza tace privind taios la ele, asa spunand mai multe decat vocea inecata dinainte. Otrava florii acum inchise se intoarce de unde a venit, reflectata in steaua din coltul privirii insistente, strapungand animalul imbatat de furie oarba ce cade uimit in prapastia propriilor cuvinte.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Moralizatorul se intoarce si pleaca lasand mica bolta de cristal acolo, descoperita. Dupa ce ultimul sunet obscur din ecoul pasilor lui se pierdu in nicaieri, muza inchise clopotul....si incepu sa refaca oglina....&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/6617928536836211543-7461544305231042267?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/7461544305231042267/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2011/10/reflexie.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/7461544305231042267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/7461544305231042267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2011/10/reflexie.html' title='Reflexie'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5QF99kpP54I/TonXSxRpmbI/AAAAAAAAAJg/gE1Sl6f53kw/s72-c/userlay307664.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Str. Berzei, București, România</georss:featurename><georss:point>44.437711 26.097367</georss:point><georss:box>44.2564775 25.781509999999997 44.6189445 26.413224</georss:box></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-5558026046279232031</id><published>2011-07-18T12:46:00.008+03:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T00:09:01.437+02:00</updated><title type='text'>TIme forgets.... but I'm not time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Am gasit astazi o poza in care singurele lucruri pe care le iubesc cu adevarat sunt unul langa altul... Si o priveam oarecum surprinsa ca pana acum n-am observat (desi nu e prima oara cand o vad) alaturarea oarecum ciudata... Poate si editarea e putin vinovata de strangerea pe care am simtit-o in stomac- culorile sunt absolut superbe. Poate si faptul ca am incercat sa neg atat de tare in ultimul timp atasamentul meu fata de un anumit element prezent in poza... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Mi-a amintit multe... Mi-a readus imaginea acelui "Acasa" pierdut de ceva timp, culoarea calma a cerului care se omogenizeaza cu cea a marii la orizont, spuma alba subtire de pe valuri- marturie a vietii de dedesubt, adierea ce imprastie cateva suvite.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;NU!!! Nu o sa ma gandesc din nou la asta! Am vrut sa cred intotdeauna ca sunt mai puternica de atat, ca in fiecare zi imi ridic zidul de jur imprejur, zidul care tine un singur lucru departe de mine.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Vulnerabilitatea mea deja se contureaza ca o rama in jurul fotografiei- o vad clar, stand cu mana intinsa spre mine, unul din putinele lucruri care ma hipnotizeaza pana cand imi uit numele... Si apoi ma trezeste cu un afurisit de zambet si pleaca, lasandu-ma singura, chinuindu-ma ca o disperata sa mi-l amintesc... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;E ciudat cum poza omogenizeaza discrepanta dintre prezent si trecut...cum sugruma viitorul si-l inchide intr-un cufar pe care praful nu se pune niciodata... Ma uitam la sagetile aruncate de ceea ce eu stiu de fapt a fi un calm caprui- imi ingheata de fiecare data constientul clipei de acum aruncandu-ma adanc in gaura trecutului, lasandu-ma sa-mi fac zeci de iluzii cu privire la viitor, spulberand in acelasi timp posibilitatea mea de a face vre-un pas inainte sau un revers...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ma uitam la un moment dat la stancile de langa mare...faleza inalta, stanci colturoase, uscate si fierbinti acoperite de sare ce inteapa usor... Parca vad o reflexie de suflet... Parca un vechi inerior al celui de-al doilea lucru pe care il iubesc in poza... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Si intreb oarecum trist, ce cauta toate astea intre patru colturi, de ce le vad dupa atata timp, de ce si acum incearca sa mi se distruga orice forma de aparare? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Dupa ce am incercat sa-mi demonstrez taria de caracter (care pana la urma nu s-a transformat decat intr-o afurisita slabiciune) zile la rand, dupa ce mi-am pierdut tot ce aveam intr-o singura clipire sorbita cu jind, acum ce a mai ramas pt a fi luat??! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Nimic! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;....si inca privesc poza cu o doza de sarcasm, apoi cu mila si o nuanta slaba de nostalgie. Ultimele zile mi-au demonstrat ca inca n-am renuntat la trairi in antiteza... Acum urasc, sau sunt extrem de goala , iar dupa cateva ore sentimentele care de mult timp par pierdute incep sa apara pe rand...dorul, apoi fericirea, iubirea.....gelozia, intelegerea si toate celelalte pe care reflexia din oglinda mea le-a aruncat la gunoi tanjind dupa suferinta ce, in fond, i-am dat-o cu varf si indesat....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ma intreb totusi, in poza unde cele doua lucruri care imi detin sufletul se aduna, langa Mare (cel mai iubit loc de mine, acolo unde eu pot sa spun "Acasa"), pe stancile ce-ti oglindesc sufletul gol si uscat.... de ce TU INCA MAI EXISTI?!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6617928536836211543-5558026046279232031?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/5558026046279232031/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2011/07/time-forgets-but-im-not-time.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/5558026046279232031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/5558026046279232031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2011/07/time-forgets-but-im-not-time.html' title='TIme forgets.... but I&apos;m not time!'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-1391354667787689658</id><published>2011-04-15T14:53:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-11T00:08:31.700+03:00</updated><title type='text'>R's...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Helvetica;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Helvetica;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;  Sunt unele momente in viata in care singurul lucru ce-mi rasuna in minte este "De ce?!"… Am zile in care tot inauntrul meu urla intr-o tacere surda, cu o disperare agonizanta, si nici macar el nu-si aude tipetele….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    De ce?!! De ce te iubesc? De ce "n-a fost sa fie"? Ma uit inapoi si am impresia ca totul e de umplutura, ca oricat de agila as fi niciodata nu voi putea prinde fulgerele importantului ce trece pe langa  mine intr-o fractiune de secunda, parca in adins atat de repede, doar ca sa nu-l pot prinde…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Ceva timp in urma suspinam un noiembrie fara tine… Acum ianuarie trece pe langa, aruncand razele soarelui in parul meu, orefindu-i reflexiile roscate de mai…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Mi se pare ca a trecut o vesnicie… pana in mai va fi alta vesnicie… alt "interminabil" ce aduce un an de la primele emotii ale unei seri calde… Un an de cand o pala de vant mi-a murdarit pielea cu atingeri, de cand aripile mele au fluturat inutil a speranta cu nuante de verde, ca un inceput crud… Un an de cand zambetul sincer mi s-a infiripat pe buze, dupa mult timp, de cand inima a batut la unison cu o alta mai tare decat de obicei, de cand m-am simtit in siguranta. Un an in care am plans cat pt urmatorii doi, un an in care potopul de deasupra mea nu s-a oprit decat aparent si doar pt cateva secunde…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Ma intreb cand a trecut… cand o sa mai treaca in acelasi disper de pana acum…. Cu priviri goale si rasete seci, zambete lucrate cu orele in oglinda pt a parea credibile, cu lacrimi ce se preling nestingherite lasand in urma amprete de tine… Cu sentimente reprimate in exces, cu amintiri vagi ce devin instantanee intr-un singur sarut intarziat de luni intregi… Ca apoi totul sa dispara ca fumul unei tigari Dunhill rosu lung, aprinsa prea devreme si lasata sa se arda pana nu raman decat biete foite de scrum, si ele pierdute in vantul rece de vineri seara…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Nu ma mai consoleaza nimic si nimeni nu ma mai ajuta… Nici macar acordurile melodiei mele de suflet nu mai reusesc sa-mi aline durerea… parca acum mai mult mi-o amplifica fara sa doreasca asta, ca un prieten vechi ce zambeste compatimitor crezand ca poate smulge un zambet si de la tine, nestiind insa ca nu te ajuta cu nimic, ci mai rau iti contureaza ideea ca esti singur chiar daca inconjurat de familie si amici.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Acum pot sa-mi amintesc perfect starea acaparanta, retraind-o pana in varful degetelor, cand priveam  jocul de lumini si viata orasului…. Din nou pot spune intr-o soapta "eu…si atat.", din nou ma uit in jur coplesita de un zambet &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;dureros, plin de regrete.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Si chiar daca am o mie de idei la adresa recupararii mele, timpul si hazardul nu sunt deloc de partea mea... Nu mai pot sa ma folosesc de altceva pentru a iesi din asta… Sunt singura si nu pentru faptul ca nu am in jurul meu oameni care vor sa ma scoata, ci pentru ca nu imi pot oferi ceea ce am eu nevoie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Pentru ca langa tine eram speciala, pentru ca numai in preajma ta puteam fi eu, pentru ca tu m-ai acceptat cu bune si rele fara sa pretinzi vreo schimbare absurda… Pentru ca ai fost singura persoana care mi-a spus uitandu-se in ochii mei ca sunt frumoasa, chiar si atunci cand mananc, sunt suparata sau cand dorm… Pentru ca…langa tine totul era o nebunie absoluta si totusi atat de linistitoare…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Si nu-mi spune sa nu ma mai gandesc la tine pentru ca stii bine ca n-ai sa ma opresti. Esti prea adanc intrat in pielea mea ca sa ma pot detasa fara suferinta… Nu-mi cere sa te uit pentru ca toata imi aduc aminte de tine. Pana si plusul de langa mine pare ca ma respinge tocmai pentru noptile in care imaginea ta ma bantuia, iar eu il strangeam pana la sufocare transformandu-l intr-o mica victima umeda, colaterala, coplesita de sufletul meu atat de greu….. Acum mi-e mila de el, insa…cat ai de gand sa ma mai chinui si implicit si pe el (vorbesc despre sarmana jucarie ca despre cel mai bun prieten al meu…clar mi-am pierdut mintile…!!!) ?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Ce-ti pasa tie…?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Poate ca n-ar trebui sa ma mai las prada sentimentelor nutrite pentru tine… Dar asta sunt eu. Pierduta in proprii mei ochi, in propriile lacrimi… Si simt cum ma scurg de fiecare data, cu fiecare dara umeda lasata in urma, ajungand in final pe o perna, pe un animalut de plus…sau impregnata in propria-mi piele, ratacindu-ma cu totul printre pori pana nu mai ramane decat constienta fostei mele existente…    Dar totusi, inca mai traiesc in scene din viata de ieri si de azi, provocand trecutul sa ma inghita si viitorul sa ma uite…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Privesc in gol de cele mai multe ori, incercand sa ma conving ca nu meriti, sa ma axez pe ceea ce este important acum… Insa in toate cele prezente se lasa apasatoare " l'ampreinte du passé récent.", si ca o cireasa amara, dupa cateva saptamani de falsa liniste presarate cu mici scapari de melancolie profunda, un vis ma trezeste cu lacrimile siroind pe obraji… Iar in pofida lor si intr-o incapatanare prosteasca incerc sa adorm din nou, sa te simt aproape macar in vis - chiar daca si acolo situatia realitatii ia amploare prin simpla ta prezenta, chiar daca nici acolo nu-mi vorbesti desi esti la cativa metri de mine - esti acolo… si te vad exact cum erai ultima data…camasa rosie si privirea de demon. Dar nu ma pot culca la loc- lacrimile nu ma lasa sa inchid ochii, iar perna uda e deja prea rece…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Ce mai conteaza…? In momentul asta chiar deloc… Si nici pe viitor nu va mai fi cine stie ce, cu atat mai mult pentru tine. Oricum nu vei sti niciodata - nu pentru ca nu ai vrea, ci pentru ca nu-ti permit sa-ti hranesti orgoliul cu suferinta mea. Nu m-ai compatimi niciodata, din contra, te-ai hrani cu licarul de speranta din ochii mei si ai savura tristetea dupa ce spulberi orice viziune de viitor… Ca si pana acum, ti-ai sperge praful de pe inima cu mine, m-ai dezbraca de principii doar ca sa ma privesti goala, m-ai folosi pana la epuizare ca apoi sa ma arunci la gunoi…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Dar eu tot te iubesc… Si in prostia mea nu vreau sa accept tot ce ai facut… am ramas cu imaginea perfecta a celor sase luni in care am fost fericita… Am vrut sa sterg ultimele doua luni in care zambetul a inceput sa dispara treptat si mai ales decembrie si ianuarie atat de reci si….fara tine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Insa prezentul e prezent… cu momentele lui in care inca intreb "de ce?", cu incercari disperate de a iubi din nou si ambitia dusa la absurd de a reusi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Acum sorb energia oferita in cantitati infime de razele soarelui ce-si arata fata ascunsa in nori, prea rar, zambind in bratele blande ale unui suflet bun, reluandu-mi vitalitatea din sarutari scurte, timide, reimbracandu-ma cu valorile aruncate de tine, uitate de mine, readuse de el… Chiar daca acum singurul lucru care ma mentine pe linia de plutire este realitatea inevitabila si faptul ca am o viata care trebuie traita chit ca vreau, chit ca nu vreau, un vers ma afunda in lumea mea, urland adevarul:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; "Here comes goodbye"….. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;Un P.S. important:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt; Este scrisa prea demult ca sa mai fie actuala... am gasit-o intamplator printre schite neterminate...si m-am gandit ca e o coincidenta faina cu luna in care am cunoscut mai multe persoane... E ciudat cum in fiecare mai, in fiecare an, cunosc pe cineva important, mai mult sau mai putin, pt mine :) Acum trei ani scriam chestia asta...acum un an cunosteam o persoana pentru care as fi putut scrie asta :))... dar n-am mai facut-o... nu merita. Asa ca pur si simplu am postat ceea ce am scris acum mult timp pentru cineva transformat dintr-o amintire, in cenusa...:) Multa minte imi mai trebuia!! :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6617928536836211543-1391354667787689658?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/1391354667787689658/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2011/04/rs.html#comment-form' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/1391354667787689658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/1391354667787689658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2011/04/rs.html' title='R&apos;s...'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-7421114750837802016</id><published>2010-09-13T14:43:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-10-09T14:25:06.025+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente ravasite prin sertarele sufletului'/><title type='text'>Ieri... Azi.... Maine.... Niciodata!</title><content type='html'>Ieri... Ieri plangeam... intr-o cutiuta mica de hartie; desenam cu carbune peretii interiori, manjundu-i cu amintiri... Ieri... Ieri priveam o gara, un peron, un tren, o multime - pt o secunda. Ieri, purtata de acordurile unei melodii, incercam sa uit fantoma unui ecou si intr-o inutila, disperata licarire de speranta am lasat rosul crud al unor emotii naive sa-mi murdareasca obrajii...&lt;br /&gt;Ieri priveam dezorientata, cautand cu disperare raspunsuri in orice gest, orice sunet. Ieri...ieri inchideam ochii si te simtem langa mine - o impresie copilareasca, ratacita printre evocari aproape in ceata... Ieri credeam ca timpul se poate intoarce pt cei care cred, ieri credeam ca daca intorc capul vei fi in spatele meu...&lt;br /&gt;Ieri... Ieri imi doream, ieri credeam ca inca se poate... ieri m-am vazut din nou tinuta in brate intr-un musuroi de sflete grabite, linistita de o soapta dulce-amaruie... Ieri am murit inecata in densitatea unei secunde...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azi...azi am invatat sa merg legata la ochi, la gura si de maini... Azi am invatat sa tac dar totusi sa spun totul.... Am invatat sa privesc cu ochii inchisi si sa ajung totusi la culoarea altor ochi...&lt;br /&gt;Azi am invatat sa mangai, chiar daca am mainile legate la spate... Azi am avut portile inchise, legate cu zeci de lanturi stranse de lacate din fier, ferecate cu sute de incuietori ce-si cunosc alinarea intr-o singura atingere...&lt;br /&gt;Azi am aruncat o strangere de mana in vadul unui zambet, un "data viitoare" incoronat de "ne vedem" in marea seaca a uitarii... Azi am invatat sa ascult clopotul ce-si zbate sunetul mort in turla pe-unde trece o soapta slaba, lina ca 'lunecarea unei gene...&lt;br /&gt;Azi n-am mai intros capul... Si chiar azi, cand am refuzat pt totdeauna sa ma mai uit inapoi...ai fost acolo! Ti-am simtit asteptarea... Azi, cand s-a terminat, deabia azi, ai fost cel mai aproape...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maine...maine voi ridica ochii. Maine poate vom vorbi... Maine voi pasi inainte, maine o iau de la capat...&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi, in "maine" ramane umbra unui "data viitoare" intarit de "ne vedem". Maine, chiar daca e soare, un colt de suflet va fi umbrit de ecoul unui mic puf soptit la despartire... Si chiar daca pe fata va rasari un zambet, tu vei stii bine cate se ascund in spatele lui...&lt;br /&gt;Maine... Maine poate voi uita bataile inimii ce pt 5 minute mi-au oferit caldura... Maine nu voi mai avea parfumul acela imprimat pe suvitele din partea dreapta, si poate maine acea imbratisare nu va mai rascoli sufletul.&lt;br /&gt;Maine voi fi deja departe, pt ca unul din noi trebuie sa plece - si stii bine ca te iubesc enorm... Te iubesc suficient cat sa te las sa-ti urmezi calea... Stii ca vreau sa mergi inainte, asa ca maine nu voi mai fi aici.. Maine ma imbrac din nou cu ceea ce inseamna eu, si oricat de mult ar incerca vara sa-mi fure din nou hainele, nu voi mai lasa niciodata caldura aparenta sa mi le ascunda si sa se joace cu sufletul meu...&lt;br /&gt;Maine... Maine va fi "Punct" si poate un timid "de la capat"....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar niciodata....niciodata nu voi reusi sa arunc la gunoi acel..."Tu"....   &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6617928536836211543-7421114750837802016?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/7421114750837802016/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/09/ieri-azi-maine-niciodata.html#comment-form' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/7421114750837802016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/7421114750837802016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/09/ieri-azi-maine-niciodata.html' title='Ieri... Azi.... Maine.... Niciodata!'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-6460304546720138188</id><published>2010-09-10T23:00:00.012+03:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T10:09:54.651+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ora de spulberat vise...:D</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;-Buna ziua, fetelor! Astazi vreau sa fim realiste. Nu pesimiste, nu optimiste, ci realiste! Astazi vreau completari, mai ales ca stiu ca ma veti aproba. Mi-ati expus dorintele voastre, iar celor care chiar li s-au implinit, le spun felicitari si mult succes in continuare (totusi, nu cred eu ca sunteti asa "roz")- desi credeti-ma, ceea ce vi se pare voua perfect normal, lor (si o sa vedeti apoi cui) li se pare pierdere de timp si misiuni imposibile.;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;   &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;-Ok!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;   Dupa discutii lungi, intervine realismul (bine, cu un usor sarcasm:D), in sfarsit:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;   &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;-Auzi, domnisoara? Tu chiar crezi ca o sa-ti trimita flori doar "pt ca e miercuri" ? Aloooooo!!! Nu esti in filme, si pe el nu-l preocupa asa ceva! Crezi ca o sa te astepte la iesirea din liceu cu o inghetata spunandu-ti putin incurcat cu fata lui incredibil de sexy " Pui....N-am stiut la ce ora iesi, asa ca am venit de la 6..." ? Iar tu sa te uiti in ochii lui atat de mari si caprui, gandindu-te la cat de dulce e ca te-a asteptat o ora....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;    Fato!! Nu visam, asta e realitate- nu o sa se intample asa ceva! Nu esti doamna lui Superman sau blonda lui Batman. Nici iubita lui Brad Pitt sau a lui Leonardo DiCaprio... Tipul tau prefera o alergatura cu rolele cu baietii decat sa "stea ca prostu' " dupa tine, o ora!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt; - Iar tu, cea de-acolo! Vrei sa-ti dedice melodia aia faina de la Vama Veche pe care tocmai ai descoperit-o....Ar fi frumos sa o asculti stiind ca e de la el, nu-i asa? Pfff!! Ma faci sa rad! Ai uitat cine e, cine esti? Nu e un sensibil cu chitara in mana si nici vre-un rebel cu o inima de aur... E doar el! Esti amuzanta tu.... Dai melodia prietenei tale sa i-o dea lui si sa-i sugereze ca vi s-ar potrivi! :)):))) Vai, cat esti de naiva!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;  - Si tu, cea din colt..... Crezi ca o sa te trezesti cu el la usa, aducandu-ti prajitura preferata pt ca i s-a parut ca nu te simti prea bine? - si asta doar din tonul vocii.... Trezeste-te, fato! Esti pe Pamant, nu in Rai! Sau inca speri ca te-ar putea suna doar ca sa-ti spuna ca te iubeste sau ca-i e dor de tine? Doamne, nu e Broscoiul fermecat pe care cu un sarut l-ai transformat in Prince Charming!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;   Din mijloc se auzi o voce:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;   &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF33;"&gt;- Exact! Ca atunci cand eu astept sa-mi dea macar un mesaj ca e ok.....Dar nu primesc nimic nici pana a doua zi, chiar daca stiu ca sta pe internet toata noaptea....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:medium;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt; - Si ce face pe internet atata?? /:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF66;"&gt; - SE JOACA!!! Cel putin asta imi spune mie- si, la o adica, il cred... Asa e el, mi-a dovedit asta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Hohote de ras..... Era de asteptat.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;   &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF66;"&gt;- Nu e de ras...daca ati fi in locul meu...:(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt; - Stim, domnisoara, cum e. Stim cum e sa fim lasate balta pt cine stie ce chestii "mai importante", sau sa intri pe mess si in loc de avaterele lui atat de geniale, sa vezi exact poza care te-a facut sa plangi....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#66CCCC;"&gt; - Ca pt paluga aia roscata care e plina de pistrui si cu 5 cm mai inalta ca el!!! N-am vazut asa ceva! Stiu ca gusturile nu se discuta, dar...... Ce e in neregula cu mine si in regula cu......fiinta aia??!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;    Din spate o alta fata izbucni:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;   &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FFFF;"&gt;- Adevarat. Sau cum m-a lasat pt bondoaca aia bruneta.... Stiu ca ii place sa se simta mare protector, dar aia e cu un cap jumate mai mica decat mine!!! Si el are 1.87!!! Dumnezeule, ce are ea si nu am eu?? Parul negru (vopsit oricum)?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;   &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;- Imi pare rau pt voi, fetelor.... Am venit aici ca sa ne dam seama ca de fapt, indiferent cat de mult ne-am dori toate aceste lucruri, pt ei sunt nimicuri, chestii care le irosesc timpul... Cum ar fi ideea de a-ti lasa un off cand nu te vede on sau un mesaj cand nu i-ai scris 2 ore....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;   &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;- Stii, de fapt, eu nu am problemele astea....Adica, de fiecare data cand ne intalnim imi aduce o floare, din cand in cand imi face mici cadouri, vine si ma ia de acasa- intotdeauna cu un pupic pt mama- ma aduce acasa.... Intr-adevar, nu prea ma suna asa mult- mai mult il sun eu pe el, uita mereu de ziua noastra si cand e cu baietii se poarta destul de ciudat....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt; - Deci nici el nu Zanul Perfect...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;   &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;- Nu este! Nici unul nu e! Insa as vrea sa nu mai fie atat de ciudat cand e cu prietenii.... Crede ca pare mai interesant daca o face pe superiorul....:(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FFFF;"&gt; - Ai ajuns si tu la vorba noastra..!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Chicoteli printre fete...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;  - Tu, Alexandra, ca pe tine te cunosc mai bine... Ziceai ca e in Scotia? Anul 2? Hmm.... Iti doresti sa-l vezi mai des, sa fiti impreuna mai mult... Crezi ca o sa se urce in primul avion sa vina la tine doar pt ca ai plans o seara intreaga la telefon? Daca te iubeste, o sa vina... Castiga destul de bine acolo, isi permite biletul.... Dar il stim noi...nu o sa se urce, pt ca e egoist..Pt ca nu considera el ca e necesar, pt ca are o gramada de treaba...Pt ca nu esti maritata cu el....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;   Nu vreau sa va arunc toate sperantele la gunoi, vreau doar sa vedeti realitatea. Aveti voie sa visati la Fat-Frumos, pt ca exista. Cate unul pt fiecare dintre voi. Insa stiti cum e, acesti Feti frumosi sunt atat de rari ca ori sunt luati, ori sunt atat de perfecti incat sunt gay.... Si e pacat.... Unele dintre noi vom da peste acel Mr.Perfect sa speram ca vom fi in stare sa ii tinem langa noi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;   &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;- Dar acum ce facem? Sunt atatea chestii pe care le vrem si noi...maruntisuri, nu calatorii cu avionul....Insa o floare, un mesaj, un telefon? S-au vazut cu sacii in caruta si au lasat balta tot ce inseamna romantic.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt; - Si ce ati vrea sa faceti? Sa va umiliti, sa va lasati calcate in picioare, sa implorati atentie? Doar pt ca , chipurile, nu vreti sa ii pierdeti? Ca vai, ce par are, vai ce ochi are, vai ce buze are?? Haideti fetelor, avem demnitate! Daca la inceput au fost suficient de tandri, de dulci, de atenti cu voi, asta nu inseamna ca odata ce si-au atins scopurile nu mai pot fi asa. Asta trebuie sa ii invatati. Cum ai putut sa fi la inceput, poti lejer sa fi si acum!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt; - Asa e! Sunt lucruri pe care nu le putem accepta la nesfarsit....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt; - Deci am cazut toate de acord: Ori il faci Fat-Fumos, ori il pastrezi Fat-Frumos, ori il lasi in plata lui- daca e incurabil....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;   &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;- Da!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;  - Ma bucur ca am ajuns intr-un punct comun. Ma bucur ca sperante sunt, si ma bucur ca ati deschis ochii...  Viata nu e roz, decat daca o vopsesti tu. Iar tu ca fata, intotdeauna trebuie sa ai saculetul cu praf roz... Pt ca se intampla prea rar ca si el sa aiba o culoare calda in "bagaje"..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt; Mult noroc fetelor, sunt sigura ca veti lua cele mai potrivite decizii in privinta lor. Ganditi-va si la voi!  Lumea nu incepe si nu se termina cu EL :)&lt;/span&gt;  "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Asta este scrisa pt toate fetele pe care le cunosc si cu care am discutat de atatea ori probleme astea, dar si pt baietii care vor citi - asa, ca sa va faceti si voi o idee despre ce ar vrea fetele.... Si nu in ultimul rand, asta e pentru TINE! Sper doar sa te simti ;).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Legenda:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Lila: Tipa cu initiativa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Verde: Toate &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Galben: Fata din mijloc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Turquoise inchis: Frustrata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Turquoise: Frustrata 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Rosu: "Preafericita" (trebuia sa fiu putin sarcastica:D:D)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Goudy Old Style'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Gri: Cea care cere indicatii&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&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/6617928536836211543-6460304546720138188?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/6460304546720138188/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/09/ora-de-spulberat-vised.html#comment-form' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/6460304546720138188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/6460304546720138188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/09/ora-de-spulberat-vised.html' title='Ora de spulberat vise...:D'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-9138436611632775644</id><published>2010-09-07T18:35:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T18:40:22.718+03:00</updated><title type='text'>........</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;"I`m leaving all the past behind...all my pain and all my tears now are all dust in the wind. ".....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Thank you....And despite everything you put me through, I'm gonna miss you. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6617928536836211543-9138436611632775644?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/9138436611632775644/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/9138436611632775644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/9138436611632775644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post.html' title='........'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-3465741633591257837</id><published>2010-07-27T19:42:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T20:16:41.245+03:00</updated><title type='text'>The end....</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Matusa Maiei deschise incet usa.... Dulapul era uitat cu usile deschise, noptiera goala, iar masuta de toaleta isi inalta singuratica oglinda..... Arunca o privire peste tot- camera era goala... Langa oglinda, tocul dormita linistit sprijinit de calimara, cu cerneala uscata pe penita. Sub toc gasi un biletel cu o adresa si o mica nota: " Am plecat....la adresa asta vreau sa trimiti in numele meu scrisoarea de alaturi. Ramas bun, matusa. M."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; Buimacita, biata Lucretia privi alaturi... plicul era deschis lasand sa se vada o semnatura gratioasa. Il lua si deschise hartia impaturita. Un miros fin de scortisoara ii inunda narile... Asezandu-se pe pat, incepu sa citeasca:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;" Nu am indraznit niciodata sa ma gandesc la cum ar fi daca te-as pierde... Am alungat din totdeauna gandurile negative fata de tine sau de ce s-ar putea ivi intre noi, probabil tocmai din teama de a nu se intampla. Insa stii bine, si de nenumarate ori chiar tu ai spus: “De ce ti-e frica, de aia nu scapi!” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   Imi aduc aminte ca ieri ceea ce acum numesc istorie imbracata intr-o impresie vaga a unui vis. Si chiar tind sa numesc totul un vis, pt ca a fost, dupa toate normele, incadrat in categoria “scurt si prea frumos”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Par atat de obiectiva, insa printre randurile ce-si dezvolta din ce in ce noima, inexistenta de altfel, se intrevad lacrimile ce-mi taie privirea suparator de tare..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   Iti scriam zilele trecute ca ma simt singura, ca sunt slabita, lasata fara vlaga... Si parca avand o sclipire inexplicabila de viitor, te-am implorat sa nu ma parasesti... Te-am rugat sa ai grija de mine, sa ma ocrotesti... Insa acum, din vina mea de data asta, ai disparut exact ca acum 14 ani, cu aceeasi promisiune ca ma vei cauta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   Mi-a fost atat de frica de momentul asta, incat inca imi e imposibil sa ma ridic din perplexitatea ce ma stapaneste. Nu pot sa vad altceva decat o fetita singura, ghemuita sub loviturile celor 15 ani, ingaimand plina de spaima doar atat: “Tati...Tati, vreau sa cant la pian.... Tati, unde esti?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   In avalansa de ganduri zaresc o pruna molfaita printre fraze, un parfum persistent aparut de nicaieri, un cuvant cald... Sunt doar cioburi- imi e imposibil sa le adun sau sa-mi refac amintirea... Sincer, acum nu stiu cine scrie; de unde puterea de a tine pixul si a scrie ultimele pagini din caietul pe care-l stii si tu- comoara mea! Probabil frazele nu se leaga si exprimarea nu are coerenta, insa ma straduiesc sa-ti scriu ultima oara intr-o incercare timida de a-mi cere iertare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   Te rog sa ma ierti ca nu am fost suficient de prudenta, de atenta, ca nu am realizat pericolul de a vedea scrisoarea exact cine nu trebuia, ca m-am lasat coplesita de tristetea dorului ce ti-l port... Te rog iarta-ma pt inconstienta mea! Nu pot decat sa tac si sa suport consecintele, pt ca altfel as fi facut tot bosibilul sa remediez ceva sau macar sa ma revansez pt greseala... Acum, din cand in cand, ecoul surd ce mi-a ramas in minte prinde amploare aruncand cu pietre, bucurandu-se de proportiile dezastruase pe care le poate lua o fraza rostita la un celalalt colt al camerei:” Stii ce ai facut??!!!”. Nu pot sa spun decat ca am aflat...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  Stii, ma uitam la ultima pagina a acestui caiet... e plina de “tentative” de semnaturi de pe-atunci cand ma intrebam cum ar arata semnatura mea daca m-as numi T....... Printre lacrimi zambeam....Deja obrajii imi sunt stransi in prinsoarea uscata a sarii...Incep sa vad mai bine....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   Deschizand caietul, am dat peste trei ravase.... un alt zambet, mai chinuit de data asta... Ma intrebam zilele trecute cand voi mai citi inca unul impreuna cu tine. Acum aproape rad cand ma gandesc cate iti rezerva viata, ca nu poti avea incredere nici macar in urmatoarele 5 minute sau nici macar certitudinea ca totul va ramane la fel, ca nimic nu se va schimba... Uneori chiar am impresia ca planurile sunt complet inutile si reprzinta o pierdere considerabila de timp si imaginatie, mai ales cand se cunoaste existenta unei probabilitati enorme de interventie neasteptata a acelui “ceva” ce da peste cap totul. Asa ca ma caiesc pt naivitatea mea de a-mi face mici planuri pt ziua in care ne vom revedea, care nu fac altceva decat sa atarne la capatul unui fir de ata o sclipire de speranta... Am vazut ca nu e bine nici sa astepti un lucru care nu e cert sau bine pus la punct... dezamagirea se intinde nesimtita peste ruinele asteptarilor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  S-a terminat... Ori de-abia acum a inceput! Si, ah, mi-e atat de frica!! Printre suspine nu pot decat sa inghit in sec intrebandu-ma ce-o sa se intample...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  Si crede-ma ca am o durere insuportabila in cpul pieptului. N-am crezut in viata mea ca voi simti vreodata ca efectiv mi se rupe inima. Realizez ca toate asa-zisele “prabusiri” ale cerului nu au fost decat mici nefericiri ce s-au rezolvat de la sine mai devrme sau mai tarziu. Acum pot sa jur ca odata cu mine a cazut tot! Ca sunt inghitita de valuri de remuscari si parca privesc cum mi se sfasie sufletul ca o carpa.... Oare n-ar fi fost mai bine daca nu stiam, daca eram inconstienta, prea mica, incapabila sa realizez? Acum vad ca am ramas fara adapost, fara dragostea pe care am simtit-o incalzindu-ma dupa multa, multa vreme...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  Si iata-ma din nou in genunchi la picioarele realitatii...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  Ma bucur totusi, si-I multumesc lui Dumnezeu ca te-am cunoscut, ca M-ai cunoscut... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  Dar stii tu... toate trec si timpul uita! Poate va fi nevoie de ceva ani, poate de mai mult, sau poate nimic nu va putea plati greseala asta; nici macar timpul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Sper ca daca ai dat de asta, sa-mi lasi o adresa la care sa-ti trimit singurul lucru mi-a mai ramas dupa pierderea sufletului- caietul meu... In care a inceput si s-a terminat o etapa a vietii mele, in care mi-am asternut imaginatia si sufletul de-o potriva... Vreau sa-l trimit acolo unde este si ultima farama din inima mea- la tine! Nu stiu ce poti sa faci cu el; inchide-l intr-un seif sau ascunde-l in geanta de servici...poti chiar sa-l uiti aruncat in fundul garajului... As vrea doar sa stiu ca e acolo unde sunt si EU!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  Citeam in dimineata asta o carte pe care am si terminat-o...Am gasit in ea ceva care mi-a placut enorm:” Exista cu siguranta in viata crize, puncte culminante si asa-numite puncte de rascruce- dar nu suntem deloc in stare sa deosebim un punct culminant de o clipa indiferenta”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  Chiar ma gandesc ca are dreptate. Insa acum realizez ca eu ma aflu intr-unul din momentele decisive, cand un capitol din viata mea se incheie odata cu terminarea acestui caiet, oadata cu pierderea umanului, sufletului si inimii, luate ca pret pt periada aceasta... odata cu pierderea ta.... Poate ma insel in privinta “tregediei”, desi nu cred... Stim amandoi la fel de bine cate se pot intampla!.... Azi, frazei lungi ce incepe cu primul si se termina cu ultimul cuvant din acest caiet, i s-a pus punct. Fara a lasa loc si pentru “....si de la capat”.... Ne-am pierdut....Ne-au pierdut...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  Si sa stii, chiar vreau sa-mi dai o adresa la care sa-ti trimit caietul!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; E gata! S-a terminat...Si cand ma gandesc ca deabia mi-am inceput povestea cu tine, ca deabia am invatat sa iubesc... Cand ma gandesc cu cata convingere vroiam sa schimb tot ce e gresit la mine, sa te fac sa ma iubesti si mai mult, sa-ti arat ca pot, sa te fac mandru de ceea ce sunt, nu pot decat sa plec ochii si sa-mi plang greseala....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  Imi aduc aminte ca odata am auzit o soapta ciudata, intr-un moment de liniste (probabil gandurile mele prindeau glas) “Niciodata nu vei avea parte de ceea ce tie iti place, de ceea ce ai nevoie... Pt ca il vei gusta si apoi ti se va lua!” Ma intreb daca nu cumva am avut dreptate.... Nimic din ceea ce mi-am dorit cu adevarat nu am avut.... Numai maruntisuri strict necesare vietii. Poate de aceea Gabica mi-a spus ca parca ma vede cum mi se usuca sufletul.... Am avut nevoie de dragoste, si acum, ca am dat de ea, mi se retrage dreptul de a ma bucura de ea.... Probabil ca asa e cel mai bine, poate ca toate lucrurile chiar se intampla cu un scop anume, bine definit de Dumnezeu...El stie cel mai bine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  Stii.... Nu am indraznit niciodata sa ma gandesc ca te-as putea pierde.... Nici acum nu pot sa-mi imaginez cum AR FI....pt ca.... acum ESTE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'; min-height: 18.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'; min-height: 18.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'; min-height: 18.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Azi, luni 16 iulie 1910,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; am incetat sa mai scriu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;M....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Handwriting - Dakota'"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;  Lucretia inmarmuri.... Socata de plecarea neanuntata a fetei, nu putu decat sa sopteasca o rugaciune scurta pt ocrotirea Maiei... Cu ochii mari, tulburati de zeci de sentimente dintre care se desluseau teama si incordarea, cobori scarile in graba si strigandu-i fetei din casa sa nu o astepte, porni spre posta.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/6617928536836211543-3465741633591257837?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/3465741633591257837/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/07/end.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/3465741633591257837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/3465741633591257837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/07/end.html' title='The end....'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-2917775186603402588</id><published>2010-06-13T00:32:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T00:36:17.434+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pt voi...'/><title type='text'>O privire de ansamblu...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sa uiti sa iubesti... Oare nu-i pacat? Sa privesti in oglinda doi ochi stinsi, o fata palida si o expresie dreapta, sa nu-ti pese decat de tine si de dorintele tale... oare nu-i pacat sa-ti hranesti orgoliul calcand in picioare autoritatea altora? Oare nu-i egoismul prea mare cand lasi totul, uiti de altii, nu daruiesti, iei fara sa multumesti si vrei totul doar pt propria ta placere?&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi te complaci cu ideea... Te accepti asa cum esti fara sa-ti ridici prea mari semne de intrebare....&lt;br /&gt;Oare nu-i urat sa judeci? Oare tie ti-ar placea sa fi etichetat complet gresit? Nu! Nimanui nu-i place si nimeni nu vrea sa fie dat la o parte sau sa nu fie apreciat la adevarata sa valoare...&lt;br /&gt;De-abia aici intervine ceea ce numesc eu intr-adevar retoric: Care valoare??! Intre atatea prejudecati, intre atata ipocrizie si minciuna, atatia prefacuti egoisti, unde sa mai aiba loc moralitatea? Cum vor oamenii sa creasca flori in gunoi? De unde vor ei parfum in toxicitate?&lt;br /&gt;Si uite-i, uite-i cum traiesc printre deseurile create de ei, uite-i cum isi taie unii altora sperantele de a supravietui, cum se mananca unii pe altii ca o haita infometata, ca niste bestii lipsite de hrana, sau mai degraba, nemultumite de ceea ce deja au, dorind mereu ceea ce are cel de langa - si el o creatura infometata de "ceilalti".&lt;br /&gt;Priveste-i.... Plang, plang napastuiti de propriile creatii, inecati in lacrimi cutremurate de-un dor , infiorate de ganduri negre. Se uita deznadajduiti la cer, urland din toti rarunchii "Unde esti tu, viata?" , cu mainile ridicate spre infinitul impanzit de plumb. Zilele imbelsugate au trecut nestingherite cu mult timp in urma, lasand inapoi dare cenusii incarcate cu praf de regrete si amintiri. Lumea, candva o mare de minuni, acum este secatuita de orice urma de dragoste, compasiune sau adevar....&lt;br /&gt;Cine sunt? De ce tipa disperati la ceva ce nu-i aude? Nu cred ca-si au rostul intrebarile... Doar priveste-i. Bietii! Si cand te gandesti ca lumea lor era infloritoare, ca peste ei curgea valul fericirii, ca nu era durere si nici lacrimi.... Iar toata vina, tot pacatul - un fruct otravit de invidie si egocentrism.&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi exista incertitudini... Unii inca nu cred, nu pot si nu vor sa realizeze mizeria in care traiesc. Ma uit ca nici tu nu ma crezi.... Atunci priveste inapoi... Convinge-te singur. Ai sa vezi greseli intentionate si constiinta ignorata. Ipocriti plini de ei ce au zeci de masti, egoisti ce vor intotdeauna mai mult, indiferent de ceea ce au... Vei vedea oameni saraci ce tin vesnic mainile intinse, pt ca nimeni nu-i iubeste, nimanui nu-i pasa.... Si apoi, dupa ce-i privesti bine, vei constata ca...doar ei sunt vinovati; doar ei au gresit, iar acum implora plangandu-si pacatele...&lt;br /&gt;Si ce e cel mai curios? Ca se plang unii de altii fara sa incerce sa schimbe ceva... Vor ceva mai bun, pretind sinceritate in timp ce mint cu nerusinare, vor o vorba buna pe cand ei numai huiduie... Si cer schimbari radicale fara samiste vre-un deget!! Ii caracterizeaza comoditatea, dar si pretentiile, lenea dar si dorinta promptitudinii...&lt;br /&gt;Te uiti la ei si nu-ti vine sa crezi. Te socheaza conditiile preacre in care traiesc? Nu-ti place mizeria dintre ei? Nu ai ce sa le faci. Florile dintre ei sunt acoperite de namolul prostiei si eu nu mai stiu sa recunoasca ceva valoros - arunca cu noroi in orice e mai presus ca ei, ca sa nu se simta eclipsati.&lt;br /&gt;Este amuzant si atat de scandalos sa-i observi cum se scalda in prostie, cum nu le pasa de 'corect' si nici de 'gandire'... Inca mai ai dubii? Nu ti-ai dat seama cine sunt?&lt;br /&gt;Permite-mi sa-ti dau un indiciu - ne uitam in oglinda!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6617928536836211543-2917775186603402588?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/2917775186603402588/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/06/sa-uiti-sa-iubesti.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/2917775186603402588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/2917775186603402588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/06/sa-uiti-sa-iubesti.html' title='O privire de ansamblu...'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-5644571134130346647</id><published>2010-06-01T21:52:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T01:58:00.531+03:00</updated><title type='text'>De la ea... pt ea!</title><content type='html'>"Cand vezi tot ceea ce te defineste in existenta ei... nu poti decat sa-ti stergi lacrima ce sta sa cada. Doar ridica-ti fruntea si mergi inainte! Ai mai trecut prin multe, ai depasit situatii si mai grele... Deci poti! Esti capabila, pt ca esti fata; ai o putere si o capacitate mare...Nu privi in spate, lasa-n urma tot ce-a fost! Tu incercai sa te ridici, el te tragea in jos... Dar nu ceda cand stii ca inca mai poti.... Ca tine sunt putine ,dar ca el sunt toti!!!&lt;br /&gt;Nimeni nu va putea vreodata sa te calce in picioare incat sa nu te mai poti ridica- doar tu poti face asta. Iar tu, tu esti puternica, tu ai luptat intotdeauna, tu nu ai lasat pe nimeni sa-si bata joc. Pt ca iubesti prea mult frumosul, si tii prea mult la sufletul unora...Astfel ca nu poti intra cu bocancii in viatza lor avand lucrurile ce te reprezinta, identice cu persoanele ce le-au frant inima...Ai mai iubit, si a mai fost nevoie sa uiti. Vei varsa putine lacrimi- de fiecare data devin mai putine, mai putine.... Deci uita! Nu ai obligatia sa suferi, sau sa-ti para rau... Doar lasa in urma...si chiar daca degetele lui de carbune au lasat urme fine de amintiri, desenand pe rotunjimile sufletului goticul unei nopti de primavara tarzie, va fi o pagina noua, dupa un "punct. Si de la capat".... Nu-ti amari sufletul cu durerea unui lucru care nici macar nu a inceput, lasa-l sa plece la fel de repede cum a venit- va ustura mai putin, iar rana se va vindeca fara cicatrice... Doar fii...TU!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oare?....Cat de usor poti face asta fiind legata de amintiri si sentimente investite- de care, sincer, nici tu nu esti sigura ca ar fi meritat? Cat de usor poti calca in picioare propriile  vise? Doar tu stii.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6617928536836211543-5644571134130346647?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/5644571134130346647/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/06/de-la-ea-pt-ea.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/5644571134130346647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/5644571134130346647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/06/de-la-ea-pt-ea.html' title='De la ea... pt ea!'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-5450205225509538056</id><published>2010-05-29T21:32:00.008+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T23:01:02.568+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un strop de ploaie soarbe lumina portocalie a felinarului stradal ce strajuieste pomul batut cu frunze proaspete. O sclipire albastra se zareste printre verdele unit in ploaie - un gand ce razbeste o raza, o soapta, un suspin...&lt;br /&gt;Privirea pierduta in catifeaua acoperita cu plumb cade pe zecile de picuri gemene ce se joaca cu umbrele anemice ale noptii. Pleoapele inchise ale orasului imbratiseaza adanc setea pamantului si ravna cu care cerul isi cerne durerea.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gandul dinainte isi reflecta un zambet in lacrimile ce apleaca frunzele, stand sa cada, apoi cuprinde privirea in bratele inimii. Pacea pierduta printre crapaturile asfaltului se sparge in cate un latrat ragusit al unui caine obosit... Din cand in cand, printre sforaitul deznadajduit, se strecoara mici suspine din vis de necuvantator. Odata cu linistea razelor portocalii ce strapung golurile dintre crengile copacului, formand cerculete pe pamantul umed, oftatul unui acord final de melodie preferata isi poarta ecoul prin aerul rece, ajungand pe particulele de praf ce leviteaza in cadere...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;O soapta veche rasuna in minte, ca un misterios 'Te iubesc' spus de intunericul rasfirat printre garduri, impletit cu puterea unui strigat de nori incarcati. Lumina aurie a felinarului patrunde in oglinda tremuranda a unui ochi de apa... Urme de furie inabusita sa citesc in ochii cerului in timp ce tunetul rabufneste departe, peste cenusiul intunecat din zare....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stand in ploaie, mi-am lasat sufletul sa se rasfranga in fiecare picatura, am inspirat adanc mirosul de pamant ud, devorand prospetimea si vitalitatea emanata de mana sfanta ce-si intinde fiinta in obscuritatea gradinilor micute, emanand un parfum dulceag de miere... Sentimentul de siguranta isi deschide aripile cuprinzand amintiri oglindite in raurile verzi, strajuite de cupe albe si rosii stranse in ruga de seara, ce curg de-o parte si de alta a trotuarului. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Soapta veche prinde forma, rasunand printre suvitele aruncate in vant, indemnand inima: "Iubeste!"&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/6617928536836211543-5450205225509538056?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/5450205225509538056/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/05/feeling.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/5450205225509538056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/5450205225509538056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/05/feeling.html' title='Feeling...'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-6390686422103062683</id><published>2010-05-18T20:31:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T22:11:10.091+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente ravasite prin sertarele sufletului'/><title type='text'>O ora si jumatate...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Privind floarea ce-i statea inainte, isi auzi suspinul invadand aerul... "Gata, nu-i asa?" Din obisnuinta, mintea ii trmise instantaneu o replica: "Pai nu tu ai vrut?"&lt;br /&gt;Simtea cum se cufunda in lacrimi si doar fiorii flash-urilor din trecut erau mica punte, aproape distrusa, spre realitate. Privind prin paharul din mana, prin lupa sticlei si a apei, apoi mai departe, prin crapaturile invizibile din coltul peretelui, spre nicaieri, isi ineca sufletul in fluviile sarate ce-i scaldau fata. Auzea vocea lui undeva intr-un colt al mintii, simtea respiratia lui curgandu-i in toata fiinta si atingerea inca impregnata pe piele... Simtea in maini bataile inimii lui si in buze gustul placerii.&lt;br /&gt;Cufundata in durere, inchise ochii si aproape lesina. Vru sa se ridice, dar corpul nu o ajuta. Plumbul unui zambet si ironia dintr-o imbratisare i-au poleit simturile, omorandu-le pe rand. Isi culca obrazul pe maini, lasandu-se prada inconstientei...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Floarea dinaintea ei incepu sa se deschida.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In tacerea starii ei, se vazu stand intr-un loc imbracat in marmura alba, patata cu stropi rosii, inchegati... Pe jos zaceau imprastiate cioburi ce reflectau razele care umpleau incaperea. In mijloc, un piedestal de cristal pe care statea o fiinta stravezie ce se holba la podea.... Mainile ii erau inclestate in poala, printre cutele panzei ce parea sfasiata...&lt;br /&gt;Se apropie de fata, incercand s-o recunoasca... Ajungand in fata ei, ochii tristi inconjurati de cearcane isi ridicara brusc maroul sters, privind in ochii curiosi ce-i brazdau chipul... Apoi ii cobori din nou pe podea...&lt;br /&gt;Facandu-si loc in mintea ei, curiozitatea o impinse sa se miste... Intinse mana incercand sa atinga cu varful degetelor chipul inert... Dar gestul trecu dincolo de obrazul palid al fetei, aceasta ridicand privirea si descoperind curiozitatii adevarata identitate....&lt;br /&gt;Musafira pali... Isi vazu reflexia privind-o... Se vazu pierduta in viitor, vazu rodul straveziu al incapatanarii, al incertitudinii, al ambitiei.... Disperarea si durerea au transformat sufletul intr-o stafie care acum isi privea corpul 'prezent' , fulgerandu-l cu reprosuri de 'prea tarziu'.... Acum, ea vedea in proprii ochi trecutul, isi aminti tot, dorul strecurandu-si veninul prin cotloanele inimii... Il vazu si pe el zambindu-i 'atunci', se vazu si pe ea razand 'apoi', fiecare imagine otravindu-i mintea.&lt;br /&gt;Desprinzandu-si privirea de la ea, isi cobori ochii in pamant si ramase socata la vederea obiectului ce acapara atentia fiintei stravezii... Rama alba era murdarita de amprente rosii, geamul licarea spart, iar poza era rupta in doua... Tabloul lor zacea la picioarele greselilor, arogant dar in acelasi timp umil. Se apleca spre el, auzind ecoul lacrimilor ce se izbeau de sticla crapata... Un zambet sfasiat isi facu loc pe fata musafirei, urmat de un junghi in capul pieptului....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Floarea de pe masa incepu sa se ofileasca usor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cu genunchii stransi, privi indelung tabloul. Apoi, controlata de dorul de a-l simti aproape, de regret si dorinta, incerca sa-l ridice. Dar o lumina o obliga sa-si stranga ochii...&lt;br /&gt;Isi ridica fruntea de pe mainile intinse pe masa si privi ceasul... O ora jumatate.....Paharul gol statea intins, eliberand apa pe marginea mesei.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ochii i se orientara drept... ultimele patru minute au fost picatura ce-a dat pe-afara.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Floarea din fata ei s-a ofilit...&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/6617928536836211543-6390686422103062683?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/6390686422103062683/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/05/o-ora-si-jumatate.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/6390686422103062683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/6390686422103062683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/05/o-ora-si-jumatate.html' title='O ora si jumatate...'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-6068789565403475620</id><published>2010-05-03T15:20:00.007+03:00</published><updated>2011-02-26T07:19:27.230+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O fereastra deschisa spre mare, un val ce imbratiseaza o stanca, o bataie de aripa alba, un cantec pierdut in rasarit, o dorinta ascunsa intr-o scoica... Pe o insula in mijlocul oceanului- o corabie naufrgiata, un catarg cu varful in soare, o comoara ingropata prea adanc, un sirag de perle negre...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Intr-un sat micut de campie, o poarta din lemn proaspat vopsita, o livada, un cires aplecat de roade, o serpuire de apa, o ulita umpluta de soare, o ploaie de vara, o julitura la genunchi...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pe prispa calda - o pisica lenesa, o frunza da vita ofilita, o foaie mototolita in gramada de scrisori renegate, un ciripit de randunica...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In gradina - o masa intainsa, o paine calda infasurata intr-un prosop alb, un borcan de compot rece din visine acre...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In capul ulitei, un plans de copil, un scancet de caine pierdut, o lacrima in ochii batrani unei bunici, un tipat de dor, un genunchi plecat in rugaciune...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Intr-o cearta, o palma peste obraz, o privire taioasa, incapatanarea din expresia adolescentina, aroganta dintr-o replica, aciditatea unei obraznicii, nesimtirea dintr-un gest, ura de pe buze... Mai mult, dezamagirea unui prieten, nonsalata ce calca in picioare pretentii si asteptari...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pe o banca goala, intr-un parc uitat, sub o salcie batrana cu frunzele unite in ploaie - un strop de apa sorbit de crapaturile lemnului vechi, o floare uitata pe un colt, doua litere scrijelite incadrate intr-o inimioara stramba, o soapta de adio sparta in sunetul picaturilor ce biciuiesc pamantul...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sub luna plina, o fuga de fata tanara, atingerea ierbii umede pe talpile goale, un zambet scaldat in raze palide, o sticlire de ochi pironiti la cer, o pereche de sandale aruncate langa poarta, un copac inalt batut cu argint, umbra lui pe un caiet deschis, o urma anemica de creion in palidul foii, rotunjimi calde de cuvinte parfumate cu pajisti intinse, un fosnet de padura atipita....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pe podul ce trece peste un firicel timid de apa, un sarut... o imbratisare scurta, o privire aruncata inapoi, dorul ce deja isi face loc in inima.... Pe un trup micut - un pulover negru, pufos, intr-o seara trista- cea mai lejera haina si intimitatea unei camere slab luminate.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pentru un trecator- o ispita, pentru o trecatoare- un motiv de invidie, pe strada- un suflet pierdut, in viata- o simpla fata... Pentru el- viata insasi, pentru ea- cea mai apropiata, pentru familie- copil problema, pentru prieteni- claxonul, pentru necunoscuti- soprana!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pentru mine, o nimeni... Pentru tine, insa, cea mai mare provocare! O placi, asa-i? Hai, n-ai cum sa spui "nu"; stiu deja ce gandesti! Ma privesti intrebator.... Totusi ochii tai spun ca m-ai recunoscut. Ma bucur!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Acum.... Iubeste-ma daca indraznesti!!! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&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/6617928536836211543-6068789565403475620?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/6068789565403475620/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/05/o-fereastra-deschisa-spre-mare-un-val.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/6068789565403475620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/6068789565403475620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/05/o-fereastra-deschisa-spre-mare-un-val.html' title='Guess...'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-8966190077799890113</id><published>2010-04-04T15:22:00.008+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T22:12:26.622+03:00</updated><title type='text'>The End....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In torsul linistit al motorului o melodie intervine spargand pacea. Zeci, mii, milioane de stropi de ploaie calda se sparg pe pamantul ce soarbe frenetic viata din ele. Inceputul piesei saruta usor sunetul ploii, in timp ce un numar de inmatriculare cunoscut izbeste privirea scaldata in lacrimi, chemand firav amintirea impanzita cu fire de matase.&lt;br /&gt;Doi ochi caprui, limpezi, ce ascund printre petele de profund un verde crud, feeric, spun din nou cuvintele ce injunghie, zambind, speranta: "Iarta-ma, iubito...Nu te voi dezamagi...Nu te las singura."&lt;br /&gt;Dar eu stiu mai bine...Stiu ca a mintit, ca nu s-a tinut niciodata de cuvant. Ii vegheam din departari intunecate, din viitorul patat cu plumb, mucegait de ganduri nerostite. I-am privit pe sub stejari, pe sub castanii infloriti, i-am cules intr-un apus si i-am oglindit in ochii soarelui ce-si pravalea nefiinta peste o capita de paie din spatele unei livezi. Am mers cu ei de mana prin parfum de nuci scaldate in albastrul straveziu al cerului, i-am privit razand, i-am auzit spunandu-si "Te iubesc", am simtit impreuna cu ei... Nimic nu mai conta- erau doar ei si livada oglindita in lac.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si nu am vrut sa intervin; stiam ca cineva va interveni oricum. Nu conta daca era mai devreme sau mai tarziu- s-ar fi intamplat exact acelasi lucru...Aceleasi inimi zdrobite, aceleasi lacrimi varsate, aceleasi nopti nedormite... L-a iubit mult, fara sa-si dea seama. Iar cand a reusit sa accepte astam sora mea mai mica-soarta- a aruncat intre ei o prapastie!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A trecut ceva timp de atunci. Acum, in lacul tacut se oglindesc nucii scuturati ce-si inclina bratele dezgolite in vantul ce vuieste a singuratate...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nu de mult, ea m-a luat de mana crezand ca o pot ajuta, ca probail o voi face sa accepte realitatea...Tragandu-ma dupa ea, m-a dus la livada de nuci intr-un satuc linistit am Teleormanului. Cand a coborat dealul, i-am simtit tremurul mainii...In ciuda timpului trecut, in ciuda falsei vindecari, am simtit-o tremurand ca prima oara cand s-au intalnit acolo. Cand a atins primul copac, vantul i-a imprastiat lacrimile pe obraji facandu-le sa cada pe mainile intinse. Dandu-mi drumul din stransoare si lasandu-ma in urma, inainta spre milocul livezii. Privind cerul, ridica mainile ca un copil neajutorat, parca implorand universul sa o ia in brate, sa nu o paraseasca acum. Plangea inecat si implora in gand timpul sa se intoarca inapoi, sa stinga focul ce arde mocnit inca de cand i s-a promis ca timpul se va opri numai pt ei.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vazand ca cerul isi pastreaza calmul si culoarea glaciala atat de placuta, cobori privirea si isi lasa bratele sa cada inerte pe langa corp. Cu deznadejde a intors ochii spre mine. Era confuza, speriata, dezamagita si ma implora sa o ajut sa treaca peste toate, sa calce in picioare orice ii sta in cale. N-am putut decat sa o privesc cu mila... Era prea tarziu daca priveam inapoi si prea devreme daca ma uitam in viitor. Nu avea nevoie de mine momentan, nu trebuia sa intervin atunci. Treaba mea incepea la ultima ei privire spre livada aceea.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vazand ca nici eu nu reactionez, se indrepta spre lac uitandu-se la reflexia ei ce vibra in undele apei. Deasupra capului ei se inaltau coroanele galbene doldora de frunze gata sa cada. Oglinda stravezie o facu sa-si aminteasca- deja vedea tabloul verii si pe ei doi imbratisati, ca o imagine ce o inlocuia. Cand vantul se linisti, claritatea cu care erau redate detaliile- privirea, minile- o facu sa cada in genunchi plangand in hohote si intreband continuu "de ce?".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In linistea satului, un strigat disperat sparse ecoul cainilor ce vorbeau cu adierile de soapte ale vantului...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;O priveam cum striga disperata "DE CE?", cum se chinuia sa inteleaga ce-i cu ea... Ecoul strigatului ei vui ca un tunet pana departe inspre campul rosu, batut cu frunze ruginite...Ramase acolo cateva ceasuri, cu privirea fixata in pamant. Nu mai simtea nici macar stransoarea sarata a lacrimilor uscate pe obraji. Auzea doar o melodie stinsa.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dupa ce ultima nota isi pierdu fiinta in scancetul deznadajduit, ochii i se aprinsera din nou. Se intinse pe iarba moale privind cerul insangerat de apus. Zambi... Dar zambi liber. Incepu sa refaca firul povestii- degetele subtiri ale amintirilor teseau borangicul nepatat al acceptarii. In zambetul nou se depanau povesti ce pareau vechi de cand lumea, trecand prin filtrul constiintei impacate. In sfarsit era libera sa inteleaga, sa aseze totul la loc fara pareri de rau.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Apoi am vazut-o ridicandu-se, emanand pace. Saruta in vant lacul si cuprinse cu o deschidere de brate tot campul. Trecandu-si buzele pe o frunza ce-i aluneca in palme, o lasa sa-i poarte sufletul cat mai departe.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ma privi recunoscatoare, cu ochi invingatori- soarta blestema furie in universul ei, inghitita de ura, lasata fara putere, stapanita de un zambet liber.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pasind spre deal totul i se paru nou, renascut odata cu ea... Se apropie incet si aruncand o privire de "S-a terminat!" inspre livada trista, ma lua de mana pornind spre casa. Pe drum m-a rugat sa nu spun nimanui ce s-a intamplat, dar se pare ca si &lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ratiunea&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; poate fi invinsa cateodata- sper sa ma ierte ca nu mi-am tinut promisiunea...&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/6617928536836211543-8966190077799890113?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/8966190077799890113/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/04/sfarsit.html#comment-form' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/8966190077799890113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/8966190077799890113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/04/sfarsit.html' title='The End....'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-490857235097035046</id><published>2010-02-04T11:05:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T22:13:10.658+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente ravasite prin sertarele sufletului'/><title type='text'>Tu. Si atat.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/S2q-4qH5aYI/AAAAAAAAAEY/A37v45JKqnY/s1600-h/me.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 224px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434365780965288322" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/S2q-4qH5aYI/AAAAAAAAAEY/A37v45JKqnY/s320/me.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Chestia asta e scrisa pe moment...nu va asteptati sa fie o capodopera...Si totusi, vreau comentarii :D &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Cand esti singur, totul pare mai mare, mai voluminos si mult mai...gol. Cand esti singur, totul te copleseste, se napusteste asupra ta... Cand esi singur te simti atat de mic si iti e atat de frig! Te uiti in jur si totul e alb, pufos, sclipeste a puritate...dar cand esti singur, nu este decat alb...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;In lumina felinarelor stradale se danseaza permanent. Un dans vesel, in cadere, ce-i incanta pe cei din jur...dar cand esti singur, pentru tine nu sunt decat niste fulgi de nea ce cad indarjiti pt a umple urmele adanci lasate de trecatori in patura alba...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Cand esti singur, lacrimile fierbinti de pe obraji ingheata...pentru ca nu e nimeni sa le stearga inainte sa se transforme in infime monumente de zambet pierdut... Cand esti singur, in urma ta ramane doar un rand de pasi si cararea e mult mai stramta caci nu e nimeni sa mearga langa tine... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Cand esti singur.......ei bine, cand esti singur ai mainile foarte reci- nu e cine sa la stranga si sa le ofere caldura... Cand esti singur, buzele iti sunt uscate si crapate pt ca nu e cine sa alunge cu un sarut frigul ce le macina.... Cand esti singur te simti atat de inutil! Toti cei care te-au lasat in frig iti soptesc ,parca de nicaieri, ca esti abandonat, lipsit de importanta...Si constati ca esti doar tu si umbra ta, ca numai lumina becurilor pe langa care treci merge cu tine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Cand esti singur e atat de liniste....iti poti auzi pasii nesiguri si greoi inaintand prin zapada ce freamata sub talpi...Iti poti auzi gandurile, dar cel mai rau, temerile, dezamagirile, frustrarile...Te poti vedea asa cum esti si constati ca nu iti place pentru ca...esti doar pe jumatate. Cand esti singur, imaginea ta din linistea launtrica e incompleta...dureros de incompleta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Cand esti singur continui drumul cu mers marunt si privirea coborata in pamant...Si mergi, mergi dar nu ai nici cea mai vaga idee incotro te indrepti, daca ai sa ajungi undeva...Cand esti singur, nu mai poti auzi rasetele stelutelor de gheata topindu-se pe mainile tale intinse spre cerul ce-si cerne zaharul...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Cand esti singur, 10 minute de asteptare a unui autobuz ti se par 10 ore, un trecator grabit ti se pare o umbra si un claxon enervat se aude ca un murmur undeva departe...Si lasand lumea sa treaca pe langa tine, iti amintesti cum in aceeasi statie de autobuz radeai inconjurat de prietenii tai cei mai buni, cum asteptati autobuzul dupa "cel mai bun film vazut vreodata" (nu ca ati fi fost vre-un pic atenti la film...ati fost impreuna...), cum dardaiati cu paharelele de ciocolata calda in maini.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Cand esti doar tu, singurul lucru pe care reusesti sa il auzi este ecoul vocii tale ce se pierde usor in golul ce-ti apasa gandurile. Din cand in cand, in albul ce-ti acopera privirea, zaresti un zambet cald...dar nu-i decat o iluzie... Si cand ridici ochii de jos privesti orasul ce trece pe langa tine grabit, lasand in urma dare de lumini vii ce se joaca coborand pe asfalt, evaporand-se in aerul rece... e frumos, dar cand cuvinte grele si scene din trecut se insira inaintea ta,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;nu sunt decat lumini... Nu e decat orasul. Si atat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/6617928536836211543-490857235097035046?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/490857235097035046/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/02/chestia-asta-e-scrisa-pe-moment.html#comment-form' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/490857235097035046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/490857235097035046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/02/chestia-asta-e-scrisa-pe-moment.html' title='Tu. Si atat.'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/S2q-4qH5aYI/AAAAAAAAAEY/A37v45JKqnY/s72-c/me.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-454130384001066783</id><published>2010-01-31T13:23:00.011+02:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T22:14:31.790+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente ravasite prin sertarele sufletului'/><title type='text'>3 minute si 21 secunde</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/S5F4C0Al_RI/AAAAAAAAAFA/9YtKALWfzMM/s1600-h/SP_A0233.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445265414183845138" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/S5F4C0Al_RI/AAAAAAAAAFA/9YtKALWfzMM/s320/SP_A0233.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O soapta dulce de acord cunoscut iti mangaie urechea... O amintire aproape vaga iti rasare in minte si un zambet incolteste imbratisand o lacrima. O vioara canta incet apusul acela, cand doua gandiri isi descopereau asemanarea, cand doua inimi iubeau aceeasi melodie, cand ochii vedeau aceeasi frumusete linistita, oglindita in lacul tacut. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un fior cuminte iti strabate corpul...ca si cum ai trai pentru o secunda nerabdarea si un gol prinde forma in piept...ca inainte de concertul acela. Iar apoi sinceritatea dintr-un suras ce ti-a colorat obrajii candva, iti apare pe sub pleoapele inchise.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dupa-amiaza aceea dulce-amaruie se strecoara prin crapaturile sufletului invaluindu-l cu gesturile simple- mangaierea unui caine, privirea pierduta in zare...Ca apoi, cu inocenta din vocea unui copil, sa te faca sa simti din nou imbratisarea scurta si pupicul timid pe obraz, in semn de adio.Iar acum , ascultand pianul, totul ti se asterne inainte-ca ieri- si fiecare centimetru al pielii simte emotiile de atunci.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dar in imaginile vechi intervine o intrebare la care nimeni nu are raspuns:de ce? De ce a trebuit sa-ti amintesti de momentele acelea? De ce acea scurta privire a ramas intiparita pe paginile cartii tale? De ce acele maini au ramas in memorie mangaind atent clapele unui pian, sorbind vibratiile cu fiecare deget?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Iar cand deschizi ochii, constati ca melodia s-a oprit... Ca n-au fost decat 3 minute si 21 de secunde in care ochii au pierdut o lacrima, in care ai simtit gustul sarat al zambetului pierdut in timp, in care ai imbratisat....doar o simpla amintire... Constati ca realitatea te tine de mana, zambind rautacios, ca acum privesti foaia ce-ti sta inainte si nu mai vrei sa scrii nimic. Realizezi ca au plecat, ca s-au pierdut printre minute, undeva departe, momentele la care visezi doar o clipa....Si-ti lipsesc gandurile venite si trecute in pripa...O umbra de dor se asterne pe gene, dar dispare la fel de repede pe cat a aparut- prezentul striga "Toate au trecut..."...si linistea ce domneste acum peste tine, te sperie caci urla adevarul...Si nici adevarul nu vrei sa-l mai stii caci te compatimeste cu putina rautate, dusmanie poate....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dar toate trec, iar tu ridici fruntea de jos si privirea ti se limpezeste cu un zambet de "A trecut!". Te ridici si pornesti mai departe cu capul sus, mergand inainte...urmandu-ti vesele. Un sentiment de siguranta si pace te invaluie si simti cum un val de fericire iti inunda ochii...Din umbra ce cadea peste tine, o silueta se contureaza in lumina calda a soarelui rasarit de nicaieri. O privesti apropiindu-se si... esti ...TU! Te ia in brate si iti sopteste "In sfarsit...m-ai gasit!", ca apoi sa simti cum incepi sa vezi prin ochii ei, cum toate amintirile isi flutura mainile departe spunandu-ti "la revedere" si cum, in sfarsit, simti ca viata iti pulseaza prin fiecare mica particica a corpului tau, fiecare por, fiecare capilara, fiecare celula...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Deschizi larg ochii si intorci capul pentru a privi in jur...Esti acasa,la birou, exact acolo unde erai acum cateva minute, numai ca...in locul regretului acum este un zambet...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si iti dai seama ca impacandu-te cu tine, ai dat voie celor ce te inconjoara sa-si reia cursul in ticaitul mecanic al ceasului de pe perete...care, fara sa vrea, confirma ca o soapta dulce de acord cunoscut ti-a mangaiat urechea....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/6617928536836211543-454130384001066783?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/454130384001066783/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/01/refren.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/454130384001066783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/454130384001066783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2010/01/refren.html' title='3 minute si 21 secunde'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/S5F4C0Al_RI/AAAAAAAAAFA/9YtKALWfzMM/s72-c/SP_A0233.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-3562798213069607660</id><published>2009-08-02T17:27:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T14:20:40.281+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentimente ravasite prin sertarele sufletului'/><title type='text'>Poti....dar asta nu inseamna ca ajuti....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/SnWjiQzxiZI/AAAAAAAAABk/3jMQDxDihPA/s1600-h/Escape_Artist_by_torretta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 138px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365374340104817042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/SnWjiQzxiZI/AAAAAAAAABk/3jMQDxDihPA/s320/Escape_Artist_by_torretta.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Poti sa cauti mii de cuvinte sa.ti explici gesturile necugetate. Poti sa rascolesti sertare de suflet in cautarea unor argumente bazate pe ceva concret...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Poti sa.ti regreti etern judecata gresita, sa.ti arunci sentimentele in alta dimensiune, sa te izolezi in alt timp si spatiu! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Poti sa cauti alinare in cele mai nepotrivite lacasuri unde ura demonica pluteste...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Poti sa urasti; pe tine te va distruge primul...Poti sa crezi ce vrei sau sa implori cu lacrimi vinovate si cu o expresie aparent inocenta.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Poti sa privesti cu ochi mari, ingroziti la trecut, sau poti doar sa arunci o privire cristalina, nepasatoare inapoi. Poti sa speri, pt ca speranta ta e efemera...Poti sa.ti pui dorinte cand cade o stea; oricum ea nu te aude! Poti sa inoti in lacul sarat al lacrimilor pacatelor tale; nimeni nu va mai vrea sa te salveze... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Cauta, rascoleste, regreta, arunca, izoleatza-te, uraste, crede, implora, priveste, spera, doreste.ti....pt ca poti! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Dar NU poti sa ma convingi ca dupa tot ce ai facut in mod constient, esti nevinovat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6617928536836211543-3562798213069607660?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/3562798213069607660/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2009/08/potidar-asta-nu-inseamna-ca-ajuta.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/3562798213069607660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/3562798213069607660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2009/08/potidar-asta-nu-inseamna-ca-ajuta.html' title='Poti....dar asta nu inseamna ca ajuti....'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/SnWjiQzxiZI/AAAAAAAAABk/3jMQDxDihPA/s72-c/Escape_Artist_by_torretta.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617928536836211543.post-8541095662588990769</id><published>2009-03-25T11:14:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T22:14:59.230+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poezii'/><title type='text'>Asculta vioara...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Asculta vioara...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asculta vioara cum isi plange amarul!&lt;br /&gt;Ascult.o cum striga-ntr-o camera rece!&lt;br /&gt;Ascult.o si inghite paharul..&lt;br /&gt;Inghite durerea...Timpul trece...&lt;br /&gt;Asculta vioara cum suspina...&lt;br /&gt;Auzi-i glasul stins de lacrimi,&lt;br /&gt;Asculta-i dorul de lumina,&lt;br /&gt;Auzi-i sunetul de patimi!&lt;br /&gt;Asculta vioara cum plange-necat,&lt;br /&gt;Asculta sufletul ce arde mocnit&lt;br /&gt;Cu durere si dorint-amestecat...&lt;br /&gt;Opreste-te si-asculta ce n-ai mai auzit...&lt;br /&gt;Opreste-te si-asculta vioara!&lt;br /&gt;Asculta-i istoria atat jelita,&lt;br /&gt;Ascult-o caci nu e prima oara&lt;br /&gt;Cand iti canta durerea...retraita...&lt;br /&gt;Opreste-te si uite-te la tine!&lt;br /&gt;Te plange vioara..ca-ntr-o oglinda...&lt;br /&gt;Iti plage durerea si ura si necazul...&lt;br /&gt;Iti plange trecutulsi dorul si pacatul...&lt;br /&gt;Te simte si te canta.&lt;br /&gt;Opreste-ti pasul langa ea,&lt;br /&gt;Si-asculta jalea celui ce canta!&lt;br /&gt;Opreste-te si vei vedea...&lt;br /&gt;Viata este mult prea scurta!&lt;br /&gt;Asculta plansul amintirilor trecute,&lt;br /&gt;Asculta istoria inchisa-ntr-o carte..&lt;br /&gt;Asculta vremile de mult apuse,&lt;br /&gt;Asculta-ti sufletul...totul e-asa departe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asculta vioara cum isi plange amarul...&lt;br /&gt;Asculta si inghite paharul!&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/6617928536836211543-8541095662588990769?l=ice-mirror.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/feeds/8541095662588990769/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2009/03/asculta-vioara.html#comment-form' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/8541095662588990769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6617928536836211543/posts/default/8541095662588990769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ice-mirror.blogspot.com/2009/03/asculta-vioara.html' title='Asculta vioara...'/><author><name>C.C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13208240468238638036</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MmIiOnivXYQ/TSGozr4HyaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/b0SpUIuiF9M/S220/DSCF0321.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
