<?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-1341760952455942506</id><updated>2011-10-19T08:12:53.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ploaie de zambete</title><subtitle type='html'>" Nu stiu pentru cine scriu, dar stiu de ce scriu. Scriu ca sa ma justific. In ochii cui ? Am spus'o deja dar infrunt ridicolul de a mai spune'o o data : in ochii copilului care am fost.. " ( Octavian Paler - "Desertul pentru totdeauna")</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-6595031936426958079</id><published>2011-01-19T02:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T03:25:25.514-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monogamia : Fidelitate si Infidelitate..</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;" Daca am putea vedea in miezul semintelor de timp, sa stim care va aduce fruct sau nu... "&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                &lt;em&gt;Shakespeare&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Mitul monogamiei ".. chiar asa se numeste cartea a doi autori foarte experimentati, care sustin ca, in fapt, stricta monogamie nu este foarte neobisnuita la speciile de animale, incluzand primatele.&lt;br /&gt;Tot ei sustin ca evolutia unei specii dicteaza infidelitatea pentru ca masculii tind sa disemineze potentialul lor procreativ, preferand partenere atractive si apte de a face urmasi..- deci sa aiba aventuri-, iar femeile tind sa fie atrase de masculi puternici, bine plasati in ierarhia sociala. Deci, si ele sunt impinse catre infidelitate.&lt;br /&gt;Monogamia, conchid autorii, este o restrictie, un obstacol al evolutiei. Ea este o buna cale catre moartea speciei. Numarul speciilor monogame este extrem de mic: soareci, sobolani si lilieci.. Mitul pasarelelor fidele este total demolat de geneticieni, care ne spun ca pasarile sunt poate dintre cele mai promiscue fiinte , in top fiind dragutele vrabiute. Comportamentul sexual al animalelor ne spune lucruri care nu numai ca ne nedumeresc, dar chiar ne pun pe ganduri. De ce oare morsele, lasate in mediul lor, sunt monogame si de ce, mutate in acvarii, ele adopta legile promiscuitatii, devenind infidele..??   Acum gandestete la oameni, si mediul lor de viata..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-6595031936426958079?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/6595031936426958079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/6595031936426958079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2011/01/monogamia-fidelitate-si-infidelitate.html' title='Monogamia : Fidelitate si Infidelitate..'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-5382115057824913200</id><published>2010-08-10T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T03:20:50.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our little trip to prague</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHeQmMBW8I/AAAAAAAAAK4/ZtK73dcfvHI/s1600/praga+731.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 240px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503924596333697986" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHeQmMBW8I/AAAAAAAAAK4/ZtK73dcfvHI/s320/praga+731.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHeHgbNKaI/AAAAAAAAAKw/OnHeU6l3bjM/s1600/praga+719%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 298px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503924440167950754" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHeHgbNKaI/AAAAAAAAAKw/OnHeU6l3bjM/s320/praga+719%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHeHM_IDEI/AAAAAAAAAKo/0-Gn-IElJYY/s1600/praga+690%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 182px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503924434949901378" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHeHM_IDEI/AAAAAAAAAKo/0-Gn-IElJYY/s320/praga+690%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHeGoPs2hI/AAAAAAAAAKg/KeTOfVxEpIE/s1600/praga+620%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 276px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503924425087310354" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHeGoPs2hI/AAAAAAAAAKg/KeTOfVxEpIE/s320/praga+620%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHeGWouOGI/AAAAAAAAAKY/vAj4717JscY/s1600/praga+603%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 240px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503924420360419426" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHeGWouOGI/AAAAAAAAAKY/vAj4717JscY/s320/praga+603%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHd6bTL2WI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/oeJAcZt1A5g/s1600/praga+514%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 240px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503924215453833570" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHd6bTL2WI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/oeJAcZt1A5g/s320/praga+514%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHd6M4PQuI/AAAAAAAAAKI/8Zbn4UT2270/s1600/praga+483%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 240px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503924211582714594" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHd6M4PQuI/AAAAAAAAAKI/8Zbn4UT2270/s320/praga+483%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHd5slE9JI/AAAAAAAAAKA/aMuDz5nAfEE/s1600/praga+446%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 240px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503924202912412818" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHd5slE9JI/AAAAAAAAAKA/aMuDz5nAfEE/s320/praga+446%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHd5Y8IpvI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/ePk3AVJvarg/s1600/praga+430%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 240px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503924197640414962" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHd5Y8IpvI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/ePk3AVJvarg/s320/praga+430%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHdoybLaFI/AAAAAAAAAJw/bukr_gNnr5s/s1600/praga+401%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 274px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503923912423729234" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHdoybLaFI/AAAAAAAAAJw/bukr_gNnr5s/s320/praga+401%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHdop_JCpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/b12341600yk/s1600/praga+388%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 228px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503923910158650002" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHdop_JCpI/AAAAAAAAAJo/b12341600yk/s320/praga+388%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHdocpzJVI/AAAAAAAAAJg/dlH7e-QraxQ/s1600/praga+350%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 210px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503923906579473746" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHdocpzJVI/AAAAAAAAAJg/dlH7e-QraxQ/s320/praga+350%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHdn1RErnI/AAAAAAAAAJY/vOWnqusCqGw/s1600/praga+343%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 240px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503923896006782578" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHdn1RErnI/AAAAAAAAAJY/vOWnqusCqGw/s320/praga+343%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHc_07ysoI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/i-D2vJXjMM4/s1600/praga+271%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 240px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503923208722756226" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHc_07ysoI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/i-D2vJXjMM4/s320/praga+271%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHc-9WFtxI/AAAAAAAAAJA/fZlLGFf5SRQ/s1600/praga+263%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 240px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503923193800668946" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHc-9WFtxI/AAAAAAAAAJA/fZlLGFf5SRQ/s320/praga+263%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHc-Rvd5-I/AAAAAAAAAI4/E5ywBRgPu74/s1600/praga+269%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 240px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503923182095951842" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHc-Rvd5-I/AAAAAAAAAI4/E5ywBRgPu74/s320/praga+269%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcsDdHw4I/AAAAAAAAAIw/a8M4pFDl2Yc/s1600/praga+256%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 240px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503922869023261570" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcsDdHw4I/AAAAAAAAAIw/a8M4pFDl2Yc/s320/praga+256%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcnFous1I/AAAAAAAAAIo/hMzm4o3utOg/s1600/praga+198%2800%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 240px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503922783709475666" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcnFous1I/AAAAAAAAAIo/hMzm4o3utOg/s320/praga+198%2800%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHciyu7u7I/AAAAAAAAAIg/CWTADSu_1mo/s1600/praga+196%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 240px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503922709915745202" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHciyu7u7I/AAAAAAAAAIg/CWTADSu_1mo/s320/praga+196%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHceX22Q0I/AAAAAAAAAIY/ZhUsWNSE9L0/s1600/praga+168%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 240px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503922633981707074" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHceX22Q0I/AAAAAAAAAIY/ZhUsWNSE9L0/s320/praga+168%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcaH6i-AI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/O782YIvZSXE/s1600/praga+159%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 240px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503922560982775810" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcaH6i-AI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/O782YIvZSXE/s320/praga+159%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcTwbl93I/AAAAAAAAAII/2x_EI1nZi_Y/s1600/praga+153%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 240px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503922451599718258" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcTwbl93I/AAAAAAAAAII/2x_EI1nZi_Y/s320/praga+153%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcLVti2kI/AAAAAAAAAIA/EzwLSPghM5k/s1600/praga+149%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 240px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503922306988300866" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcLVti2kI/AAAAAAAAAIA/EzwLSPghM5k/s320/praga+149%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcFEygfBI/AAAAAAAAAH4/LxT0GLpYLTI/s1600/praga+106%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 240px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503922199366499346" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcFEygfBI/AAAAAAAAAH4/LxT0GLpYLTI/s320/praga+106%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcBMNL29I/AAAAAAAAAHw/EdvT9qpjkco/s1600/praga+104%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 271px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503922132637965266" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHcBMNL29I/AAAAAAAAAHw/EdvT9qpjkco/s320/praga+104%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHb85FACnI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Z84lRk7RcB8/s1600/praga+096%2800%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; float: left; height: 239px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503922058783885938" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHb85FACnI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Z84lRk7RcB8/s320/praga+096%2800%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHboAurY4I/AAAAAAAAAHY/RV70EPwGL9o/s1600/praga+074%280%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 240px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503921700060488578" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHboAurY4I/AAAAAAAAAHY/RV70EPwGL9o/s320/praga+074%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 316px; display: block; height: 270px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503921786106729586" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHbtBRs1HI/AAAAAAAAAHg/5Y7EEa4hcqE/s320/praga+086%280%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-5382115057824913200?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/5382115057824913200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/5382115057824913200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2010/08/our-little-trip-to-prague.html' title='Our little trip to prague'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGHeQmMBW8I/AAAAAAAAAK4/ZtK73dcfvHI/s72-c/praga+731.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-2310792443620908406</id><published>2010-08-10T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T14:04:51.665-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Viata in felii de portocale</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;" &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;N&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;imeni si nimic nu ma poate opri, la ora cinci dupa masa,&lt;br /&gt;Cand lumina e alba si-n magazii toamna miroase a praf adormit,&lt;br /&gt;In iarba sa pun un pantof cu sireturi subtiri de matasa,&lt;br /&gt;Asteptand sa se umple cu flori, si sa fiu fericit &lt;/em&gt;.. " [ &lt;strong&gt;Emil Brumaru&lt;/strong&gt; ] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 360px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503889689602927026" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG-gwe3qbI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/gq82Cc-s2Hk/s320/praga+690(0).jpg" /&gt;Privesc in urma si-mi vad viata de pana acum impartita in felii de portocala care nu seamana deloc intre ele. Unele mai zemoase, altele cu samburi . Unele perfecte, fine, desavarsite in frumusetea lor. Multe imperfecte, acre. Etape din viata pe care le-am mancat din curiozitate ca sa le simt gustul, altele doar din dorinta de a manca ceva atat de colorat, dulce , minunat. Suferintele pe care le-am digerat cu greu, dar si bucurii pe care le-am savurat in nelipsita lacomie.&lt;br /&gt;Nu m-am simtit niciodata indreptatita la fericire. Si, poate doar de aceea, n-am primit'o decat rar, dureros, parca cumva importiva vointei mele. Si totusi clipele alea nu pot fi inlocuite cu un alt ingredient, ori alta savoare, clipele astea imprastie sentimentul implinirii peste tot trecutul meu, cu o forta care le face sa valoreze mai mult decat toate nesfarsitele ore in tristete.&lt;br /&gt;Au trecut anii, s-au risipit iubiri. Uneori am vrut sa alung si amintirile frumoase, pentru a-mi indreptati actualul. Dar pana la urma , ce -as mai fi fara ele ? Un suflet dezradacinat.&lt;br /&gt;Aud mereu in jurul meu oameni care se plang ca au imbatranit fara sa-si dea seama. Femei care incearca sa scape de riduri, ori barbati care inauntrul lor se simt adolescenti si sufera vazandu'si varstele trupului. Iar eu, paradoxal, ma uit in fiecare dimineata in oglinda si ma minunez ce tanara sunt la chip, pentru atatea amintiri pe care le port, pentru atatea amintiri care vor urma, pentru tristetile care s-au dus , ori pentru bucuria care-mi lumineaza sufletul acum. Sunt prea tanara pentru atata fericire.&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/1341760952455942506-2310792443620908406?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/2310792443620908406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/2310792443620908406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2010/08/viata-in-felii-de-portocale.html' title='Viata in felii de portocale'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG-gwe3qbI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/gq82Cc-s2Hk/s72-c/praga+690(0).jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-7200496125188599513</id><published>2010-05-24T20:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T21:04:23.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want  !!</title><content type='html'>I want to be a lost poem in a stranger's coat , that conveys the importance of you.&lt;br /&gt;To assure you of my desire, to assure you of dreams, I want all the possibilities of you in writing. I want to give you your reflection, I want your eyes on me, I want to travel to the lightness with you and stay there, and I want everything before you..eveerything before you to follow us like a trail behind me. &lt;br /&gt;I want never to say goodbye to you, even on the street corner or the phone.&lt;br /&gt;I want , I want so much..Im'm brethless.&lt;br /&gt;I want to put my power into a poem to burn a hole in your poket so I can sew it.&lt;br /&gt;I want my words to scream through you.&lt;br /&gt;I want the poem not to mean that much. And I want to contradict myself by accident, and for you to know what I mean. I want you to be distant and for me to feel you close.&lt;br /&gt;I want endless days it's day end..nightime never to end when is night.&lt;br /&gt;I want all the seasons in one day. I want the sun to set before us and come up in front of us.&lt;br /&gt;I want wather up to our waists and to be drenched by the rain, up to our ankles with holes in our shoes..with holes in our shoes... I want to think your thoughts because they're mine. I want only what's urgent with me.&lt;br /&gt;I am far from perfect. But I will be perfect for the imperfect someone who is perfect for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-7200496125188599513?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/7200496125188599513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/7200496125188599513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-want.html' title='I want  !!'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-8958543344879460340</id><published>2010-03-12T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T09:06:13.494-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentiment profund</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;                     Era instens si imi placea&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;                     Totul era verde, curat si m-ametea&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;                     Inchideam ochii, intinsa pe spate&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;                     Eram prezenta, dar totusi foarte departe...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-8958543344879460340?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/8958543344879460340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/8958543344879460340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2010/03/sentiment-profund.html' title='Sentiment profund'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-1521604875520987349</id><published>2009-12-12T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T11:21:24.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fat-Frumosul meu si alti demoni</title><content type='html'>Cred ca nu sunt singura femeie/fata din lume care intoarce capul dupa contururi irezistibile cand si ea le are si apoi o bate gandul la o iubire imposibila. Pentru ca oricare a patit asa, pot spune ca am ajuns si eu la concluzia ca nimeni nu e perfect caci si eu am avut inima umpluta de spini cand am constatat ca barbatul adorat ma inseala, chiar daca beneficiera atentiilor sale era o femeie ce arata infinit mai rau decat mine. Si atunci , normal ca mi s-a intamplat sa sufar ca nu mi-a fost dat sa fiu o femeie uimitor de frumoasa.&lt;br /&gt;Am tresarit si eu cand am dat peste cate un exemplar masculin prevazut cu un design irezistibil..ca oricare alta desigur. Am insurubat capul pe strada dupa cate un specimen dotat cu jeansi bosumflati apetisant pe fese si m-am holbat pofticios la cate un tip din sala de forta. Dar.. trebuie sa recunosc, de iubit ,am iubit iremediabil barbati slabi sau miopi, fara prezentabilul pachetel din zona abdomenului, ai caror bicepsi se formasera mai degraba in exercitiul manevrarii vanjoase de tomuri. Dragostea mi-a inmuiat si mie inima, mi-a otravit dulce viata, rostul si pupilele. Poate ca barbatul pe care il iubeam nu parea frumos celor care il priveau cu nepasare. Dar eu stiam ca, asa cum luna se iveste senina doar dupa Cap Caliacra, fericirea mea nu poate rasari intreaga decat dupa promontoriul superb al umarului sau. Ca doar mainile lui, splendidele, finele lui maini masculine stiu sa-mi aduca sarbatorile magice ale trupului. Ca doar zambetul sau adorabil adunat intr-un singur cuvant se naste lumina dulce a fiecarei zile.&lt;br /&gt;Sigur.. as fi vrut sa fiu spelndida, pentru ca asteptarea mea infinita si trista sa-si pastreze vesnic nobletea. Dar, cu adevarat, singurele dimensiuni despre care cred ca trebuie conservate cu strictete nebuna nu sunt acelea ale trupului. Ci masurile rabdarii de care avem nevoie pentru ca iubitii sa inteleaga ca inima noastra e unul dintre prea putinele sanctuare ale fericirii, formele tainice ale iertarii cu care ii primim de fiecare data, dupa ratacirile lor vinovate, vigoarea fortei de a pricepe ca dragostea pogoara peste noi nepermis de rar, intr-o viata ce curge cumplit intr'o singura directie; contirurile abrupte ale curajului de-a recunoaste ca in zadar, nopate de noapte, ne visam femeia perfecta, dar dimineata de dimineata ne trezim plangand...&lt;br /&gt;[ Pentru toate cele care considera ca nu li s-a dat sa fie iubite de catre un tip demn de o atentie absoluta pe strada ]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-1521604875520987349?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/1521604875520987349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/1521604875520987349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/12/fat-frumosul-meu-si-alti-demoni.html' title='Fat-Frumosul meu si alti demoni'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-8704213021433657502</id><published>2009-11-03T11:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T14:51:14.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mituri despre vesnicie</title><content type='html'>Unii cercetatori reclama sinceritatea, amendand ipocrizia si tabu-urile adultilor. Indragostitilor incipienti, la prima lor iubire, sau chiar celor care, avand un trecut, vor sa se aseze in iubire, nu li se spune ca-i asteapta sau ce le rezerva timpul. Acest timp care erodeaza totul, chiar si dragostea, oricat ar fi ea de " stanca". Apa este dusmanul pietrei, asa cum timpul este dusmanul marilor iubiri. Acestia sunt priviti cu indulgenta, nostalgie sau chiar cu umor sau invidie. Si, de aceea , acesti cercetatori vorbesc despre mituri, vrand sa le de-construiasca cu argumentele celor care se uita atent la lumea relatiilor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MITUL 1: Cuplurile care raman impreuna se iubesc cu adevarat. Iubirea face ca o relatie sa fie longeviva. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Fals: Este imposibil sa ramai intr-o stare permanenta de iubire, nefiind posibil, de altfel, sa ramai incremenit in nicio stare. Exista cupluri care functionareaza, rezista, dar care nu arata deloc a trai ceea ce noi numim iubire romantica. Timpul trece si aceste cupluri gasesc, de-a lungul anilor, avantaje si satisfactii ale casatoriei care nu au nimic de-a face cu iubirea. Un terapeut in probleme de familie, M.Sporakowski, sustine cu indarire ca durata relatiei depinde, in cea mai mare masura, de asocierea relatiei cu ideea de beneficii si nu cu prezenta sau absenta iubirii. Cu alte cuvinte, sa nu incurcam lucrurile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MITUL 2: Chiar daca la inceput cei doi nu se inteleg, cu timpul, lucrurile pot lua o intorsatura buna. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Fals: Desi orice casatorie are uneori momente bune si alteori mai putin bune, multe cupluri o duc prost toata viata sau cat dureaza relatia. Toti vad, toti se mira, dar ei nu se despart si asta nu pentru ca se iubesc. E greu de spus de ce stau impreuna. Lucrurile nu sunt deloc simple, o relatie este o realitate complicata, un univers de ganduri, emotii, stari contradictorii, raceli si acceptari, distante si apropieri, oboseli si satisfactii, chiar minore, dar nerationale, efemere, uneori. Unii cred cu tarie sau au ideea fixa, formata definitiv, ca o casatorie este " pe viata" altii incearca sa se desprinda de acest gand, dar se descurajeaza de frica celor auzite in jur, de singuratate, poate oboseala sau chiar pesimism. Un studiu, facut pe cupluri cu durata de 40-50 de ani, arata ca temele de cearta si discordie, de nemultumire rezista in timp mai mult ca iubirea. Starile sufletesti negative sunt mai rezistente si mai intarite in memoria noastra afectiva. Si, daca ele exista la inceputul relatiei, tind sa revina, sunt contabilizate cu indarjire, trezite si activate oricand, chiar daca nu dorim asa ceva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MITUL 3: N-ar fi stat impreuna daca n-ar fi fost fericiti. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Fals , totusi , rareori, adevarat. E nevoie de realism si putina filosofie mai profunda asupra vietii.&lt;br /&gt;Nu astepta prea mult si nu crede ca relatia este paradisiaca. Oamenii pot fi fericiti fara extaz si iubire nemasurata.&lt;br /&gt;Concluzia este ca prinsi de mitul marilor iubiri- care, totusi , pot exista- ne sperie ideea de angajare sau ne bantuie frica de esec. Si atunci fie amanam, fie intram intr-o relatie cu asteptari modeste, sau ne amintim de vorbele lui Robert De Niro " Intra-ntr-o relatie din care sa poti iesi in doua secunde". Mai degraba trebuie sa ne gandim ca nimic nu este perfect, nici macar ceea ce credem noi ca este iubire. Si, cand ne departam prea mult de aceasta imagine, suferim. Deci, pana la urma, e foarte mare puterea miturilor de a altera asteptarilor noastre si felul in care percepem realitatea.&lt;br /&gt;Ce-ar fi, ne propunem un psiholog, sa gandim, facand abstractie ca ceva care aduce beneficii si oportunitati prin angajare si confort. Fiecare are propria sa definitie a marilor cuvinte: fericire, iubire etc. , si le intelege in felul lui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Putem vulgariza aceasta discutie. Relatia longeviva e ca un ciorap bun. Rezista, nu-ti face surprize. Iar, daca se duce firl , nu-i ca pe vremuri, cand il puteam remaia. A disparut aceasta varianta. Acum ciorapii se arunca usor. Si realtiile. Cand a disparut remaiajul, au crescut divorturile si despartirile. Se zice ca ciorapii, si cei foarte buni, dureaza daca ii speli dupa fiecare purtare. Unii umbla cu ei rupti. Si revenim la mituri...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-8704213021433657502?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/8704213021433657502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/8704213021433657502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/11/mituri-despre-vesnicie.html' title='Mituri despre vesnicie'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-2879485934563861401</id><published>2009-09-22T13:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T13:43:23.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>story for the colors of love ! [ by A special Friend ]</title><content type='html'>In a mist of rain&lt;br /&gt;Full of sorrow and joy&lt;br /&gt;One must be above&lt;br /&gt;One must be up high&lt;br /&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;In a world full of gray&lt;br /&gt;Where the sun never shines&lt;br /&gt;There must always be hope&lt;br /&gt;For the colors of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;For if there's no love&lt;br /&gt;Then we shall create&lt;br /&gt;And give an example&lt;br /&gt;For this world full of hate.:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-2879485934563861401?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/2879485934563861401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/2879485934563861401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/09/story-for-colors-if-love.html' title='story for the colors of love ! [ by A special Friend ]'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-3388957649771406272</id><published>2009-09-10T05:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T13:16:51.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>UnTiTled part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Sqj1M3pJQqI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/B8IyrfHjZc0/s1600-h/DSC_9250.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As fi vrut sa mori astazi, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As fi vrut ochii sa-i inchizi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ti-am visat crunta moarte,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Te-am vazut varsand soapte&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si-ti zambeam satanic din pamant &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Te-astept aici, sa-mi ingani un cant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sa sti cum e sa te simti tras in jos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sa sti ca cu greu gasesti cale de intors&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pentru sufletul defect ingropat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pentru corp spasmatic incordat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pentru ca m-ai lovit , pentru ca m-a durut&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pentru ca niciodata nu ai fost mai crunt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si acum incearca sa ma-ntelegi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Intai la ochi trebuie sa te legi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lasa-te curpins de-abstract&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uitat de un copil lipsit de tact.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Atat de simplu este sa-mi zambesti&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Atat de simplu sa-mi soptesti&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gandul neterminat de aseara&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si-mbratisarea de apoi, ce-are sa ma doara !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-3388957649771406272?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/3388957649771406272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/3388957649771406272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/09/untitled-part-ii.html' title='UnTiTled part II'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-871776131997196971</id><published>2009-08-30T10:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T10:10:35.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>unTiTled</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Spqx_VKFd1I/AAAAAAAAAGI/l89jTaEGmz4/s1600-h/DSC_8624.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375804806789429074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Spqx_VKFd1I/AAAAAAAAAGI/l89jTaEGmz4/s320/DSC_8624.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Culori sterse-ti acopera tainic vocea&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Privindu'te , timpul furisandu-se trecea &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si simteam cum nimic nu s-ar fi intamplat&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stand langa tine, pamantul s-a cutreierat&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vorbele goale imbraca timpurile crapate&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Intelesuri piersdute incep sa se arate...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-871776131997196971?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/871776131997196971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/871776131997196971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/08/untitled.html' title='unTiTled'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Spqx_VKFd1I/AAAAAAAAAGI/l89jTaEGmz4/s72-c/DSC_8624.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-2583881119809232506</id><published>2009-07-08T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T07:54:13.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Caile seductiei</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SlSy-JEeMUI/AAAAAAAAAF4/asl0jR3SSsw/s1600-h/430x645_culoricurcu_Gucci%2520587IR.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poate multora li se va parea prostesc ce scriu.. va aduc aminte ca mai mult scriu pentru mine. Mi-am adus aminte de un articol pe care l-am scris in cadrul Jurnalului de Liceu, avand in vedere ca m-am ocupat o perioada de rubrica de moda. Eh acum ca tot mi-am adus aminte despre ce am scris, m-am gandit ca ar fi bine sa mai extind putin subiectul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;( avand in vedere ca atunci aveam la dispozitie un maxim de carcatere..iar acum nu :D )..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deci ( nici o propozitie nu se incepe cu deci ).. femeia trage de maneca ochiul ! Cine e de acord cu mine sa ridice mana !! Daca am ajuns sa afirm asta inseamna ca am dovezi si conceptii care m-au facut sa cred ca este atat de adevarat incat m-as pune si pe mine in aceeasi situatie (rareori ) . Mi-ar placea sa ma exprim putin despre caile seductiei si anume : vesmintele si incaltarile, machiajul si mirosurile. Partile trupului sunt adesea descrise ca tot atatea podoabe, ca si cum vesmantul, emblema a socialului, ar fi chemat sa conduca la tainele trupului... exact cum pielea este descrisa ca o haina funa, stravezie, delicata ca voalul, iar dezbracarea corpului poate fi imaginata ca o incursiune in care renuntarea treptata ar insemna odinioara, straturi de rufarie fina..cum ar fi..dantela. Si stiu ca femeile care au bunul gust in sange adora aceste lucruri si le pretuieste cu fiecare fir de ata. Doar ca astazi lucrurile nu mai stau cum stateau inainte..inainte inseamnand pe vremuri, coronite de trandafiri, flori de maces, femeia care avea un ritual anume ( aromatizarea parului cu mosc, cuisoare, nucsoara si esenta de cardamona ) . Cam ea este stramoasa femeii de astazi. Stiti cred ca inmiresmarea se aplica si interiorului, astefel ca rasuflarea trebuia sa fie si ea dulce si parfumata. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok.. acum ca am facut o scurta istorie a femeii stravechi.. sa ne uitam si la barbati.. ce pot spune despre ei? Ei , duri, nemilosii, provocand razboaie din cauza orgoliului lor existential. Desi am crede ca ei sunt asa.. eh.. ar fi bine sa va uitati mai atent pentru ca recent s-au trecurat si ei in lumea cochetariei. O grija teribila l-a facut pe un morar medieval indragostit sa se scoale odata cu cantecul cocosilor, sa-si pieptene pletele, sa mestece o bucatica de lemn dulce si sa-si intampine iubita mai tarziu cu o metafora olfactiva cu o conotatie neindoielnic erotica :" Pasarica mea frumoasa, dulcea mea scortisoara!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si a existat mai mult decat atat, o punere in valoare calculata a partilor trupului care pot fi aratate in mod licit doar pentru a sugera ansamblul ce devenea un rog al efortului imaginativ. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ma refer la decolteele predominante, si camasile desfacute, acele fire de par ce sunt asociate cu barbatia si sanii golasi asemenea unei nopti in ploaie. Imaginatia era cea care lucra la recompunere, avand o realitate care intarzia . "Ceea ce ochiul nu vede, inima nu mahneste " era un sfat intelept. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vestimentatia, ca si podoabele si parfumurile sunt semne esentiale ale conventiei sociale. Costumul este mai intai miza unui conflict surd intre ordinea publica si miscarea economica ???!!! Istoria costumului public incepe dincolo de functia primara a imbracamintii si anume cea de a tine cald, din cate stiu eu. De la acest deziderat primar am ajuns astazi la lux, moda, gust si preferinte. Astazi, femeia a cucerit spatiul public, strada, institutiile si locurile publice, asimiland nevoia de frontiere intre "acasa" si "in lume" , dar si "acasa,in lume" . Franta anilor '70 a numarat cincprezece milioane de pantaloni de dama. Moda de astazi, se spune, este nervoasa, violenta, sofisticata , astfel aceste critici pot continua, exaltand avantajele prin expunere mai degraba decat prin sugerare. Vizibilul a castigat fata de invizibil. E foarte " la moda" sa te pleci pe strada si sa ti se vada chileteii aceia rosii care ar incanta privirea oricarui barbat. Gresit ! asta nu e moda, asta e pur si simplu o lipsa de exprimare in fata unui barbat. Moda de astazi permite cel mai drastic clivaj intre cei care merg sic ei care nu merg in pas cu ea. In pofida relaxarii si a libertatii de expresie, imbracamintea ramane un cod precis, chiar mai cimplex, mai subtil si mai dificil ca altadata. Pulovere de vacanta, rochii de seara, haine de cocktail, de revelion..s.a.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Viata moderna presupune dinamism, dar si lipsa de timp. Societatea adopta, ce e drept, sisteme de organizare mai subtile si mai discrete, dar regulile nu se incalca..asta inseamna ca nu te poti imbraca oricum si nici nu poti spune orice.Codurile sunt incalcate cu candoare si suficienta de sine. Lipsa de cultura anuleaza crisparea sau disconfortul. Exista multe personaje feminine care agreseaza ochiul si ofera proaste exemple. Au uitat care sunt caile seductiei si carei lumi apartin ele. Mult fard- adevarate fresce - bijuterii somptuoase, pluovere cu pene sau fulgi, parul prea cret, prea lung, prea rosu, volauri si volane , in urechi cercuri urioase pe care tarabagii le numescu Lambada ca un insemn national. Daca nu as sti as putea sa afirm ca in urechi si-au pus bratari si nu cercei. De la femeile din televiziune, aceastea devin praste exemple si pentru fetele care merg la scoala de parca ar merge la discoteca.Femeia noastra " trage de maneca" ochiul, sau mai bine zis..socheaza. Nu ma intelegeti gresit.. e un lucru bun sa sochezi..dar nu in permanenta, nu in public. Lipsa de adecvare atat in timp cat si in spatiu.. obsesia hainelor si hipergateala sunt semne de provincialism, de lipsa a unei anume intuitii. Prostul -gust nu sta bine fara siguranta de sine. Ce pot spune.. caile seductiei au ramas doar pentru cele cunoscatoare, cele care , cum am spus mai sus, au in sange bunul gust . Caile seductiei de astazi nu sunt nicidecum cele de altadata.. asta e prim motiv pentru care totul se reduce la sex si la bani. Putina atentie si intuitie, putina incredere de sine si o scurta calatorie in lumea modei.. putin din fiecare.. si vei fi gata sa realizezi ce pierzi..sau ce ai pierdut.. si ce vei capata. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-2583881119809232506?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/2583881119809232506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/2583881119809232506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/07/caile-seductiei.html' title='Caile seductiei'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-413043993274509076</id><published>2009-06-28T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T03:32:06.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'># 2. Iubire pe viata ?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Skegu8TELGI/AAAAAAAAAFs/xaU3Dd8LXjo/s1600-h/love.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352423410473643106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 175px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Skegu8TELGI/AAAAAAAAAFs/xaU3Dd8LXjo/s320/love.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Daca iubesti cu adevarat pe cineva, lasa-l sa plece: daca se intoarce e minunat. Daca nu, probabil ia cina cu cineva mai atractic decat tine. " (Bill Grieser)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nu cred ca in dragoste exista alegeri pentru o viata. Nu cred in iubiri eterne care calaresc peste orice obstacole, in amoruri care defriseaza orice incalceli de piedici, in povesti vesnice cu inimi si trupuri pereche. " Pe viata" mi se pare o sentinta nemiloasa atunci cand se aplica unei relatii cu ambitii la dragoste, sex si comunicare pe permen lung sau aproape.. Faptul ca traim intr'o lume populata cu barbati care nu isi parasesc nevestele , cu sotii care nu-si abandoneaza copiii si omul de acasa, cu indivizi care nu se smulg cu usurinta dintr'o relatie..este o realitate ( foarte admirabila ! nu ma intelegeti gresit !! ) care tine de cu totul alte coordonate ale psihicului uman decat de acele sentimente pe care le cunoastem pe parcursul vietii. Am banuieli... BA NU! Am si dovezi , ca si ei, aparent stabilii, se indragostesc si sufera , poate chiar mai mult, ca si ei au aventuri care le ravasesc sufletul, ca si lor li se intampla sa retraiasca chinul fabulos, delirant al dorintei interzise. Pentru ca dragostea  " pe viata" are fragezimea unui pahar de sampanie spart in miez de noapte in toiul nuntii. Dulceata ei, a sampaniei si a iubirii, aluneca spre inevitabil, oricat de cu mare evlavie ar fi pastrata. Si atunci, macar din cand in cand, trebuie sa reiei exercitiul pur al emotiei si rascolirii. S-o faci cu nebunie si constiinciozitate, cu nadejde, cu deznadejde. Sa traiesti pana la sange, sa iubesti pana la durere, sa arzi pana la tipat. Sa stimti ca te sfasii atunci cand te desprinzi din imbratisarea celui la care tii atat de mult. Sa-ti asezi ticatul inimii in cadenta silabelor numelui sau. Sa lasi sa-ti curga prin vene parfumul sau dulce-otravit, egoist si salbatic, inaltator... Si sa uiti ca in dragoste nu exista alegeri pentru o viata. Sa vrei sa il iubesti pentru totdeauna si sa te iubeasca mereu... Imposibil... si ma repet..este imposibil . &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-413043993274509076?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/413043993274509076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/413043993274509076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/06/2-iubire-pe-viata.html' title='# 2. Iubire pe viata ?!'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Skegu8TELGI/AAAAAAAAAFs/xaU3Dd8LXjo/s72-c/love.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-277007779812731297</id><published>2009-06-28T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T05:33:49.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'># 1 .  Fuga din Paradis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/S69MnAovsOI/AAAAAAAAAGo/CbotheuGUxA/s1600/124023366562494.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453661906838466786" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/S69MnAovsOI/AAAAAAAAAGo/CbotheuGUxA/s320/124023366562494.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Skea0goYs9I/AAAAAAAAAFk/KovR816PBYg/s1600-h/we03(blog).jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si asa a inceput.. prima data s-a intamplat minunea aceea.. si ne-am indragostit unul de altul, convorbiri interminabile, sms-uri in miez de noapte... O buna perioada de timp nu ne-am luptat cu nimic altceva decat cu noi insine, ne temeam sa nu ne atasam prea devreme unul de celalalt, ne temeam ca nu va rezista ceea ce vom incepe, dar mai mult, nici macar nu ne puteam stapanii emotiile, fluturii aceia , ceva nu era bine, era perfect. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Am asteptat iarna ..cand el era paturica mea pufoasa si eu eram cuibusorul langa care se ghemuia si ma tinea strans in brate, ca nu cumva dimineata sa cad din pat. Apoi a urmat primvara in toata splendoarea ei, flori si nopti interminabile si vara slboda si rosie , albastra, verde, curcubeica de fericita... visand sa tragem perdeaua peste lume dintr'un cort asezat departe de orice pas cunoscut sau necunoscut. Fericiti sa petrecem in doi, doar in doi, obligatoriu in doi, zile si nopti nesfarsite. Fara sa stim macar definitia de raritate, de plictisit, fara sa tanjim dupa orice altceva ce nu era intre noi, langa noi, peste noi. Convinsi ca avem in noi destula dorinta, destula putere de a duce pana la capat, destula poveste, ca sa nu ne intrisam in nici o seara friguroasa. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nici nu mai stiu care dintre noi a vrut primul sa crape usa inspre restul lumii. Doar putin, sa tragem cu ochiul, sa vedem ce se intampla cu ceilalti, doar ca sa ne vada si ceilalti cata fericire avem, cata iubire putem simti, cat de impliniti suntem. Doar putin. Am simtit apoi pofta sa privim pe furis, ca prin gaura cheii, catre taramul lor, catre ei, nebunii de ei, desculti de iubire, de sentimente, goi fata de noi, nebuni ai timpului nostru. Si mai tarziu s-a luminat intre noi, ca intr'un miez de noapte , o bomboana de ciocolata rupta in doua bucati nesemnificative, nevoia de libertate. Lui i se facuse dor sa petreaca departe de mine nopti fabuloase, netraite pana atunci.. iar mie ? Mie mi se facuse pofta sa-mi reeexersez farmecul impietrit , ce paradox, intr'o mare iubire. Si asta din lipsa lui de atentie pentru ce faceam, pentru noul meu colier, noua mea bluzita de matase care cadea ca desenata pe corpul meu, noua mea pereche de pantofi ce ma ridicau pana la inaltimea lui, noul meu.. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;De atunci stiu ca , odata cu ispita libertarii incepe sfarsitul iubirii. Degeaba ne prefacem ca, intr'o lume moderna, dragostea nu poate rezista fara independenta, iubiri mari si impartasite, fericite, nu au nevoie de martori, nici de moarte, nici de butaforie ori spectacol sau artificii. Iubirea este o stare edenica. Dar pentru ca nu suntem pregatiti sa induram fericirea cumplita pe care o aduce ea, sub pretextul dorului de libertate.. ce facem ? Fugim din Paradis.. si ne intoarcem unde ? Ce am realizat pana la urma ? &lt;/em&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/1341760952455942506-277007779812731297?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/277007779812731297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/277007779812731297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/06/1-fuga-din-paradis.html' title='# 1 .  Fuga din Paradis'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/S69MnAovsOI/AAAAAAAAAGo/CbotheuGUxA/s72-c/124023366562494.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-4737516994582650644</id><published>2009-06-21T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T12:57:27.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sutienul inteligent</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Sj6LGcEO_dI/AAAAAAAAAFE/7roZ1reIojg/s1600-h/60291445.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349866350092156370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 366px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Sj6LGcEO_dI/AAAAAAAAAFE/7roZ1reIojg/s320/60291445.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu prea obisnuiesc sa fac " reclama" la un anumit produs, doar ca exista un inceput pentru orice..right? Saptamana trecuta am fost absolut impresionata de un anumit produs care a aparaut " pe piata" ( ma rog.. nu inca si la noi.. dar va aparea in curand . I se spune " Horny Bra " sau mai practic " Smart Memory Bra ". Ce este asa special acest sutien ? Dragele mele.. daca nu ati citit despre el, sunt dispusa sa va comunic cate ceva despre acest sutien, daca nu ati auzit de el..nu e nici o problema..auziti acum. Prin urmare numele sau vine de la inteligentul mecanism pe care il are si anume..( fiti atenti oameni buni ).. SE MARESTE !! Si nu ca un sutien normal. El are un design aparte dotat cu o substanta care reactioneaza pe masura ce temperatura corpului creste. Adica mai exact.. cand te exciti..Cand transpiri din cauza ca ai zarit un tip despre care incepi sa iti imaginezi fantezii. Misto , nu ?!? Deci, ( stiu ca nu se incepe niciodata cu deci dar faceti o exceptie va rog ) daca sunteti intr'un pub , club , cafenea, restaurant, chiar si pe strada si vedeti un tip foarte dragut, bine facut, care va da pe spate ( si la propriu si la figurat :)) ) , si aveti sentimentul unui flirt.. puteti fi sigure ca atunci corpul dumneavostra se va incalzi si sutienul va da impresia ca sunteti o persoana " foarte generoasa" . &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Sj6K9d0LgII/AAAAAAAAAE8/q2VPKNfZQ74/s1600-h/thumb_size1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349866195942867074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 148px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Sj6K9d0LgII/AAAAAAAAAE8/q2VPKNfZQ74/s320/thumb_size1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WTF ???! Si daca tipul e alesul ? Si nu vreau sa aud chestii de genul : " iubirea adevarata nu tine de aspect sau infatisare !" Ba da, asa se pare , mai nou.. nu tine in totalitate de asta..dar tine si de acest lucru cu siguranta. Daca luam in considerare sondajele de opinie facute in urmatorii 2 ani ( le gatiti pe internet ), veti observa ca femeile mai dotate au parte de mai multe aprecieri de la barbati ..fata de cele sarace in cantitatea bustului. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Revenim... daca tipul e alesul si mergeti mai departe, gen..in pat?! Si tu, nu mai esti la fel de " dotata" ...ce se poate intampla? Asta e o intrebare foarte buna cred..pe care trebuie sa o puneti inainte de a achizitiona acest sutien " minunat" . Pentru inceput, tipul trebuie sa observe ca ESTI BUNA, apoi ca ESTI BUNA LA GATIT, LA MASAJ , LA CURATENIE, LA ATITUDINE, LA SUFLET.. si normal..lista poate continua pana maine dimineata. Deci cu ce te ajuta pana la urma sutienul asta " inteligent"? Parerea mea? La NIMIC ! Si nu o luati in nume de rau. Mai ales ca te si costa ..o avere.. nu te ajuta sa-ti gasesti barbatul ideal , asa cum fiecare dintre noi ar vrea ( exceptand gagicutele alea de ar face orice pentru un bust mai generos :)) sau pentru o noapte nebuna cu un strain .. sa nu le zic pe nume ca mi se face scarba , stiti despre ce vorbesc ! ). Si mai ales ..cand situatia se raceste.. ce te faci ? Acesta e un risc major care trebuie sa-l iei in considerare. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Sj6LOwRGVNI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Br44-m8WvV4/s1600-h/sutienul-inteligent.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349866492953777362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Sj6LOwRGVNI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Br44-m8WvV4/s320/sutienul-inteligent.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu sunt atat de " inteligente" invetiile voastre dragi sloveni. Nu mai bine ati inventa o tigaie care gateste singura ? Pana la urma..tot cei din China ori Turcia sunt pe primul loc. Macar fetele care nu au avut prea mult noroc sa se inteleaga bine cu mama natura, se pot bucura de un push-up bine meritat. Pana la urma.. cred ca este si mai comod... &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/1341760952455942506-4737516994582650644?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/4737516994582650644/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=4737516994582650644' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/4737516994582650644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/4737516994582650644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/06/sutienul-inteligent.html' title='Sutienul inteligent'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Sj6LGcEO_dI/AAAAAAAAAFE/7roZ1reIojg/s72-c/60291445.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-1918055830239263554</id><published>2009-06-17T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T02:05:53.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbatul si femeia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SjldNcoe06I/AAAAAAAAAEk/qPXB8JEjPUg/s1600-h/7028714-md.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348408518084842402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SjldNcoe06I/AAAAAAAAAEk/qPXB8JEjPUg/s320/7028714-md.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Intr'o fuga nebuna pe internet, caut citate celebre ... Imi e cu mirare ca multi barbati dau citate despre femei,dar nu si despre barbati.. In discutie iau unul dintre scriitorii care ma uimeste de fiecare data cand ii citesc o opera.. Sigmund Freud.. el spune intr-un citat ,, Marea întrebare, la care nu ştiu să răspund în ciuda a treizeci de ani de studiu despre femei, este următoarea: "Ce vrea de fapt o femeie?". " si mai adauga ..,, Dacă vrei ca soţia ta să te asculte când vorbeşti, vorbeşte cu altă femeie. O să fie numai ochi şi urechi." si chestia asta m-a determinat sa ma apuc sa caut cateva citate scrise de femei, despre barbati..si ce credeti ca am gasit? ... "Nu accepta o calatorie de la un barbat strain ciudat, si aminteste'ti ca toti barbatii sunt ciudati " scrisa de nimeni alta decat de Robin Morgan , sau " Se spun k nimeni nu cunoaste asa bine barbatii cum ii cunosc curvele " un alt citat destul de impresionant si de puternic afirmat de Ileana Vulpescu . Sa inteleg ca lupta asta intre barbati si femei a fost de cand cu aparitia lor.. dar de ce? De ce nu ne putem intelege? De ce nu putem crea o aura linistitoare si dragastoasa.. ?! Mai important este ca tot ei, tot scriitorii acestia au adus pe lume citate foarte impresionante despre dragoste si despre buna crestere, despre minunatele povesti de iubire si magia fluturilor in stomac. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si sa va spun si din punctul meu de vedere? Nu e asa de important sa aflati parerea mea..dar cu toate astea e important sa ma afirm si eu prin ceva.. Consider ca fiecare barbat e un ciudat, un porc , exact asa cum il denunta fiecare femeie, exact asa cum este descris..Femeia la randul ei, o curva nenorocita, o manipulatoare a mintilor barbatesti, o vulpe grandioasa ce iti fura mintile si apoi te mananca de viu... Toate ca toate dar un om, o femeie si la fel de mult si un barbat nu trebuie sa incerce sa scape de complexe ci sa invete sa le accepte pentru ca ele ii conduc comportamentul in lume. Si " La început a fost acţiunea." spune Sigmund Freud in celebra sa carte "Totem si tabu ".. si care este capabil sa nege asta? Dar de ce nu poate fi pe tot parcursul? Pentru ca nu vrem? Ca pe mine asa m-au invatat la gradinita...,, Nu poti inseamna ca nu vrei".. si chiar asa si e...Sa indrazneasca cineva sa nege asta ca eu cu siguranta as face orice sa ii dovedesc ca am dreptate! Deci pana la urma termin de scris acest articol cu urmatoarea ideea... Oameni buni si dragi .. daca vrem sa avem o viata linistita, plina de afectiune si de dragoste.. trebuie inainte de toate sa daruim asta..dar mai ales..sa fim siguri pe noi ca vrem sa facem asta pana la sfarsit..! Ce e bun inceput , trebuie dus pana la capat ! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-1918055830239263554?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/1918055830239263554/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=1918055830239263554' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/1918055830239263554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/1918055830239263554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/06/intro-fuga-nebuna-pe-internet-caut.html' title='Barbatul si femeia'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SjldNcoe06I/AAAAAAAAAEk/qPXB8JEjPUg/s72-c/7028714-md.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-7626217441850910045</id><published>2009-06-15T02:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T02:12:41.915-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Imperiul Nostru</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SjYRQ-h8WqI/AAAAAAAAAEU/AGwWUJSHriY/s1600-h/IMG_0067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347480590909987490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SjYRQ-h8WqI/AAAAAAAAAEU/AGwWUJSHriY/s320/IMG_0067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My eyes turned towords the mirror. I saw a girl with black empty eyes looking at me. Ah..but no,.. those eyes were not empty..they were seeking for something. I recognize those lips: the lower one slightly bigger then the one above it . I saw that messy hair before and those childish cheeks as well. I knew everything about her. At last that's how it felt. But who was she? Now we were both staring in horror... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si asa am cunoscut'o pe ea... plina de viata, cu parul drept si dezordonat exact ca al meu, cu ochii maricei exact ca ai mei, cu forma fetei rotunda si dragalasa.. exact ca a mea . La inceput am crezut ca este doar in imaginatia mea, ca ceva nu e in ordine, ceva se intample..da..si pot spune ca chiar in momentul ala ceva s-a intamplat. A aparut EA . Ea care era exact ca mine, ne puteai confunda in orice moment cand eram impreuna. Nu, nu imi este sora, sora de suflet da, este un alt Eu mai tanar daca pot spune asa, exact cum poti spune ca este sosia mea . Dar ceva difera.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si zilele trecute citeam cateva replici ale lui Octavian Paler si afirma .. ,, Nu poti fugi de tine insuti nici macar cand o vrei cu tot dinadinsul . Sau mai ales atunci ..." . Si ma intrebam .. Cine a spus ca vreau sa fug de mine ??! Nu sunt o persoana narcisista..dar cred ca am calitatile mele si deasemenea defectele care ma fac om. Care nu ma lasa sa intru in lumea celalata, sa fiu considerata si eu ceva mai presus decat omul obisnuit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Asa a inceput totul , acceasi structura, aceeasi gandire, acceasi figura a fetei inocenta .. nu reuseai sa ne distingi. Si au inceput si conversatiile intre noi, si tot ce gandeam ii inpartaseam ei, si invers.. Si mai pot spune ca este exact aceeasi fire sufletista , acelasi spirit de observatie, aceeasi obsesie pentru baiatul de langa ea. Si incetul cu incetul ne-am creat o lume a noastra, un imperiu in care nimeni nu ar putea intra nici macar daca i-am ingadui..si asta pentru ca noi suntem altfel , pentru ca sunt exact la fel, pentru ca ce avem noi in comun depaseste limita existentiala , pentru ca feminitatea care ne invaluie este mult mai puternica decat in alte tablouri de viata. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Orientul nostru nu este numai o tara si un reper geografic, este patria si tineretea spiritului nostru, este peste tot si nicaieri, este sinteza tuturor timpurilor. Este tot ce vrem si ce nu vrem, cu trairi, simtiri .. Este exact asa cum am vrut intotdeauna..de cand eram mica si ma jucam cu papusine Barbie, atunci erau momentele cand imi doream sa am langa mine o persoana exact ca mine , sa ma inteleaga , sa acopere cand am nevoie ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;EA..despre care va tot vorbesc cu stupoare.. EA.. este o noua EU, si nu ii pot dezvalui numele ..  este ,, Gugustiucul meu"  .. All I need.. she is my cuppycake ... I will always love her.. &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/1341760952455942506-7626217441850910045?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/7626217441850910045/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=7626217441850910045' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/7626217441850910045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/7626217441850910045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/06/imperiul-nostru.html' title='Imperiul Nostru'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SjYRQ-h8WqI/AAAAAAAAAEU/AGwWUJSHriY/s72-c/IMG_0067.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-1421046370338230149</id><published>2009-06-14T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T05:31:03.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ata intre cliseu si viata</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/S69L_B1NueI/AAAAAAAAAGg/b1ZUen9q4SQ/s1600/bwblackandwhitecouplehuglovepeople-4d3a3651bb2e2f40ee03cc97d5241c5b_h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453661219964434914" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/S69L_B1NueI/AAAAAAAAAGg/b1ZUen9q4SQ/s320/bwblackandwhitecouplehuglovepeople-4d3a3651bb2e2f40ee03cc97d5241c5b_h.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SjVmMd_5NbI/AAAAAAAAAEM/ndjSvpFYb3k/s1600-h/DSC_2467+(02).jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu ar trebui sa aiba nici conotatie negativa, nici pozitiva dar in cele din urma toate astea cliseele sunt preferabil evitate. Vre'un motiv? Pur si simplu entru ca suna banal, aproape perfect de banal... Pentru ca vrem sa iesim din tipar,pentru ca avem nevoie de unicitate si originalitate. Pentru ca iti dau o senzatie iritabila de repetativitate. Inevitabile? Evident. Nu stiu cum se face, dar in momentele in care ne este cel mai greu sa ne exprimam folosim clisee. Acum poate urmarindu-mi textul vei nega asta..dar vei sti ca ce spun este adevarat, adevarat de important. In momentele importante din viata folosim clisee.(Este chiar frustrant daca analizezi bine idea.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Te iubesc.” Si daca nu este cel mai mare cliseu,valabil pentru toate popoarele si toate limbile, cu singuranta este unul din candidatii la primele pozitii din clasament. Aceste cuvinte au fost rostite si folosite de atatea personae pentru un timp atat de lung incat pare absurd sa le repeti si tu. Pare absurd ca acum , pentru prima data cand vrei sa iti declari sentimentele fata de persoana iubita,sa folosesti aceste cuvinte. Si totusi ce ai putea spune? Cuvintele par de prisos.Mai bine le inlocuiesti desigur cu un sarut. Dar vrei ca persoana cealalta sa stie.Sa stie ca e mai mult decat atractie si dorinta.Sa stie ca pur si simplu o iubesti, ca inseamna ceva pentru tine, ceva remarcabil, ceva ce nu ai mai simtit. Poate ca nu e cel mai important moment al unei relatii. Pentru mine stiu ca nu ar fi.Pentru mine ar conta momentul in care am realizat ca m-am indragostit. Insa nu pare stupid sa apelezi la un cliseu? Sa apelezi la o reactie atat de cliseica,incat da o nota de banalitate absurda unui moment exceptional pentru tine,dar trait de atat de multi alti necunoscuti si cunoscuti?Si cu toate astea,o spui:”Te iubesc”, si mergi mai departe, cu gandul ca a inteles si ca nu te va uita niciodata... Si totul ramane la fel de fragil... Dar..cum spune si Octavian Paler .. ,, Ceea ce nu traim la timp , nu mai traim niciodata " ( ,, Autoportret intr-o oglinda sparta )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/1341760952455942506-1421046370338230149?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/1421046370338230149/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=1421046370338230149' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/1421046370338230149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/1421046370338230149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/06/ata-intre-cliseu-si-viata.html' title='Ata intre cliseu si viata'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/S69L_B1NueI/AAAAAAAAAGg/b1ZUen9q4SQ/s72-c/bwblackandwhitecouplehuglovepeople-4d3a3651bb2e2f40ee03cc97d5241c5b_h.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-8659251985723406364</id><published>2009-06-08T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T11:11:17.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Un vis ciudat !</title><content type='html'>Dintotdeuna m-am temut ca aceste visuri nu-ti vor ingadui sa-mi apartii vreodata , mie or altcuiva. Ma intalneam cu tine doar seara, doar clipele noastre contau, eram doar noi doi, si nimeni altcineva. Eram exact in lumea noastra , exact cum vorbesc marii clasici romani, marii poeti, eram intre vis si o realitate creata de noi. Ce e drept , nu faceai parte din realitatea mea, dar abia asteptam sa vina seara. &lt;br /&gt;Si dupa mult timp, totul s-a terminat si nici nu cunosc prea bine motivul Mi-ar fi placut sa te vad pentru ultima data, sa te privesc in ochi,  si sa iti spun lucruri pe care nu i le pot rosti unei scrisori , lasate pe masa unde obijnuiam sa ne intalnim in vis . Nimic nu a iesit asa cum planuiam noi. Am reusti sa te cunosc prea bine si stiu ca nu ai sa-mi scri , nu ai sa-mi lasi pe cerul minti nici macar un semn, nu ai sa-mi lasi nici macar adresa la care sa te gasesc , vei vrea sa fi alt om.  Stiu ca ai sa ma urasti pentru ca nu am fost acolo. Ca ai sa crezi ca nu m-am tinut de cuvant . Ca nu am avut curajul.&lt;br /&gt;De atatea ori mi te-am imaginat singur pe acel drum , convins ca te-am tradat.&lt;br /&gt;Vreau sa sti ca m-am atasat de tine ca un melc de carapacea lui , si inca mai tin la tine si acum , mai mult ca oricand chiar daca tie iti pare rau.&lt;br /&gt;Imi imaginez , imi doresc sa te vad  pe drumul acela , impovarat ca odinioara de visuri si cu sufletul sfasiat de tradare, fugind de noi toti , pana si de tine insuti. Sunt atatea lucruri pe care noi nu le-am stiut si pe care e mai bine sa nu le aflam niciodata.&lt;br /&gt;Nu-mi doresc nimic altceva decat ca tu sa fi bine , sa fi fericit , ca toate aspiratiile tale sa se adevereasca si ca intr'o buna zi , desi cu timpul ma vei uita , sa  intelegi cat de mult am tinut la tine. Sper doar ca gandul acela cu care ma bagam in fiecare seara la somn sa fie adevarat .. Sper doar .. ca trecerea timpului sa nu faca decat sa intareasca aceasta legatura .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-8659251985723406364?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/8659251985723406364/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=8659251985723406364' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/8659251985723406364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/8659251985723406364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/06/un-vis-ciudat.html' title='Un vis ciudat !'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-2237617070924310528</id><published>2009-06-03T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T13:36:45.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Continuu dar prostesc</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Siba1OQpJXI/AAAAAAAAAEE/McdQZFBG-OE/s1600-h/la+joaca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343198615817495922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Siba1OQpJXI/AAAAAAAAAEE/McdQZFBG-OE/s200/la+joaca.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tin minte... Imi aduca aminte ca nu il lasam niciodata sa-si termine fraza. Chiar daca nu ne certam, sau chiar daca o faceam. Ieseam din incapere sub un pretext oarecare si fugeam. Am avut zile cand am fugit de acasa sub pretextul ca nu ma simteam in largul meu, un pretext prostesc... nu aveam aer , era incaperea atat de ingusta incat nu imi puteam deslusi sentimentele si gandurile, nu puteam motiva un gest si nu reuseam sa detaliez existenta unor placeri . Am fugit, si inca fug. Fug de tot ce ma stramtoreaza, fug de ce e ingust si neincapator. Simt ca ma asfixiez, nu am aer, nu pot rasufla, nu pot gandi si nici nu ma pot cerceta. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Au fost zile cand am crezut ca ma luam la intrecere cu calendarul, intr'o cursa imposibila. Ma temeam ca lumea de miraje pe care o cladisem in jurul lui se apropia de sfarsit. Si ca orice femeie, bine pusa la punct cu asemenea simturi, stiam ca ceva gresit se va intampla si stiam ca va fi vina mea dar ce nu stiam era cum sa opresc asta, cum sa ma indepartez ca sa nu realizeze absenta mea, cum sa ma dezvolt doar eu, si fara el, fara sa ma aiba sub palaria lui de clovn. Fara sa rada de mine sau mai rau, fara sa interpreteze un gest gresit. Nu-mi inchipuisem ca in momentul ala incepusera toate problemele mele. Tot ce tinea de noi, tot ce era legat de simtutile noastre sau de sudoarea de pe fetele noastre. Si acum imi aduc aminte ce profund priveam in ochii lui si nu puteam sa imi dau seama ce rost are ce avem noi, ce rost ar avea o prietenie care in final s-ar fi incheiat si amandoi stiam. Eh si mai tarziu am realizat ca eu am facut greseala de care nu m-am putut feri si nu am putut evita gandurile acelea intunecate si pline de nesimtire si mi-a parut rau , dar asta e doar un mic secret .&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;In dumnica aceea, norii alunecasera din cer iar strazile zaceau scufundate sub o laguna de ceata deasa si arztoare in acelasi timp, care facea sa asude termometrele de pe pereti. Era frig, era gol, ca in inima mea, probabil ca in inima lui. Mereu l-am evitat, inca o fac. Si ma pricep foarte bine. Si daca cineva m-ar angaja pentru a evita pe cineva as fi fost cea mai bogata persoana de pe Pamant. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si dupa toata tacerea aceea ai aparut TU , si tin minte ca niciodata nu m-am simtit asa rapita, asa sedusa si invaluita de o poveste de dragoste cum imi inchipuiam ca va fi a noastra. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si asa s-a schimbat dragostea.... Si cineva m-a intrebat...cum se schimba oare dragostea.? Si am stat pe ganduri dar raspunsul meu a fost pe masura . Intrebarea este cum ne schimbam noi pe ritmul dragostei pentru ca dragostea nu se schimba ?! Raspunsul ??? In continuu, prosteste ... INTOTDEAUNA !&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-2237617070924310528?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/2237617070924310528/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=2237617070924310528' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/2237617070924310528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/2237617070924310528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/06/continuu-dar-prostesc.html' title='Continuu dar prostesc'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/Siba1OQpJXI/AAAAAAAAAEE/McdQZFBG-OE/s72-c/la+joaca.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-6119648449352804520</id><published>2009-05-30T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T15:38:46.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unde esti?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SiG1Rfr_aCI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6FuCcODLn7I/s1600-h/P1030246.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341749945206532130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SiG1Rfr_aCI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6FuCcODLn7I/s200/P1030246.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unde ai plecat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si m-ai lasat ..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sa astept zi si noapte&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Niste amarate de soapte.?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unde esti acum?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Langa mine nicidecum !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu sunt gata sa plec departe de tine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu sunt obijnuita sa vorbesc doar cu mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sper ca nu te-am suparat &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nici nu ma gandesc ca cu ceva te-am incuracat! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vreau doar sa imi vorbesti&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sa mai imi spui inca o data ca ma iubesti.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am nevoie de tine mai mult ca oricand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inca te astept, sti bine unde sunt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sti unde sa ma gasesti si cum sa imi vorbesti.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Iar cand vei avea nevoie de mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aici ma vei gasi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si ne vom aduce aminte cum vorbeam candva in rime&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si ne opream abia in zori de zi!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-6119648449352804520?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/6119648449352804520/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=6119648449352804520' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/6119648449352804520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/6119648449352804520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/05/unde-esti.html' title='Unde esti?'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SiG1Rfr_aCI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6FuCcODLn7I/s72-c/P1030246.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-2725874329307894584</id><published>2009-05-30T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T15:28:22.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zile de sfarsit</title><content type='html'>Mai e putin si se termina scoala..si dupa ce voi face? Cum imi voi petrece vara ? Planuri am ca toti altii, dar oare le voi duce la capat?!  Eh si uite asa mai e un pic pana la bac :)) adica mai am un an.. dar timpul trece foarte repede..si apropo de timpul asta de a trecut el asa de repejor ca un gand :D.. ma gandesc la sfarsiturile astea care ma tot bantuie. Nu stiu de ce dar am impresia ca iar sunt lasata balta de cineva pe care o iubesc ( a very best friend .. I think ) . Adica nu stiu, poate din cauza ca m-a inlocuit cu altcineva ?! E posibil  sa fi uitat de mine ?:)) Cred ca da...oricum ma simt foarte nasol..in sensul ca sunt dezamagita..si nu ma asteptam la asa ceva.. Si ce sa mai spun.. zile de sfarsit... Cred ca lumea se duce de rapa.. numai prosti in jurul meu, fara ofense, pur si simplu nu prea mai am cu cine discuta ( nu o spun de parca as fi o mare desteapta..pur si simplu nu mai am cu cine discuta lucruri inteligente ca altadata) , toti s-au prostit si cand le zic, fac crize :)) ma rog.. Va urez vacanta placuta celor care mai au placerea sa mai dea cu vederea pe aici :D &gt;:D&lt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-2725874329307894584?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/2725874329307894584/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=2725874329307894584' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/2725874329307894584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/2725874329307894584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/05/zile-de-sfarsit.html' title='Zile de sfarsit'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-5161319031192166279</id><published>2009-03-24T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T05:29:15.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre mine , despre tine si noi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/S69Lhy1rbKI/AAAAAAAAAGY/dvKh52l2Mrc/s1600/496436862.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 295px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453660717723643042" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/S69Lhy1rbKI/AAAAAAAAAGY/dvKh52l2Mrc/s320/496436862.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SckXY5mssLI/AAAAAAAAAC4/9syZaFzRnmU/s1600-h/IMG_0199(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Satula de greseli si minciuni&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Satula de tine si de mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uiti ca iubirea noastra poate face minuni&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uiti ca iubind, iertarea intodeauna vine..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Te iubesc, te vreau, te urasc, te omor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu pot trai fara tine ... Pleaca odata din dormitor !!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sa te cer inapoi ? Sa te arunc in strada?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Numai tu nu vezi...altii cum pot sa vada??!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cu tine , fara tine..e la fel..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Diferenta nu sta in portofel,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ci in sudoarea de pe frunte&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lacrimi mici, mici...foarte marunte.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu vrei sa intelegi,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Afla ca nici eu nu vreau &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu ai cum sa ma legi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Langa tine mereu sa stau.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si ce ar trebui sa fac?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sa urlu ca esti al meu?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cred ca mai bine tac..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si astept, nu am de gand sa cersesc indurare sufletului tau.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Daca ce spui e adevarat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vei veni la mine si imi vei arata&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ca iubirea noastra nu e de aruncat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si in caz ca nu te-ai prins , asa imi vei demonstra &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Iubirea eterna si profunda ce mi-o porti..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Iti voi riposta.. Promit ! In oricare zi dintre cele doua nopti !&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/1341760952455942506-5161319031192166279?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/5161319031192166279/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=5161319031192166279' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/5161319031192166279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/5161319031192166279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2009/03/despre-mine-despre-tine-si-noi.html' title='Despre mine , despre tine si noi'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/S69Lhy1rbKI/AAAAAAAAAGY/dvKh52l2Mrc/s72-c/496436862.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-1361800304498679238</id><published>2008-07-25T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T01:36:50.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FRUMUSETEA CA ARMA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SjtNwZZJReI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Z_aEwDnrLS0/s1600-h/IMG_0133(01).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348954476278007266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 313px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SjtNwZZJReI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Z_aEwDnrLS0/s320/IMG_0133(01).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SjtNhm2KxTI/AAAAAAAAAEs/fNqZ35Z9ISM/s1600-h/img_0133(02).JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SIpHOZ9fvjI/AAAAAAAAABo/iHAMD9ahO-I/s1600-h/pici00lPictures+adelina.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;" Ceilalti lupi m-ar sfasia daca ar sti ca urletul meu e in realitate un plans " - Octavian Paler ( " Impostura") &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Sunt om si nimic din ceea ce este omenesc nu-mi este strain. Tanjesc dupa intelepciune. Ma emotionez in fata cuvintelor turnate in forme perfecte. Invidiez geniul, coerenta, profunzimea spiritelor mari. Ard de admiratie in fata a tot ceea ce poarta semnul infinitului. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Si totusi , daca deasupra mea ar pogori un miracol care mi-ar da dreptul sa-mi pun o singura dorinta, prin care sa cer sa fiu altcumva, altceva, mai ceva decat sunt, n-as destula tarie sa strig dupa o inmiita putere de munca. N-as avea curajul sa cer minunea eruditiei. Nici virtutea constructiilor artistice desavarsite. Nu m-as incumeta sa implor descuierea portilor catre lumile spiritului etern. Prea lunga mi s-ar parea calea pana la salvarea sufletului nemuritor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;Oglinda are doua fete! a strigat Barbara Streissand intr-un film pe care l-a regizat chiar ea. Ca sa primeasca dragostea dupa care tanjeste, ca sa aiba dreptul la fericire, o femeie trebuie sa fie inainte de orice altceva , frumoasa!! La ce bun sa ne prefacem ? Conditia e ogligatorie necesara. Si, ca sa fie toate destinele feminine complicate, nu e nici macar suficienta! Slefuirea intru implinire incepe abia dupa ce &lt;em&gt;cloisonné - &lt;/em&gt;ul a fost pus la punct in cele mai mici detalii si nuante. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Ce sa faci daca nu te-ai nascut la umbra unei amprente genetice norocoase? N-are rost sa te resemnezi intr-o lume in care criteriul primordial de acces la fericire este ambalajul lucios si fara denivelari scapate de sub control. Pana la urma, poti avea si tu ceea ce au celelalte si mai mult decat atat. Intr-un univers in care toate femeile sunt frumoase, cele destepte au castigat din start toate bataliile. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Nu mai exista de mult caste ale infrumusetarii. Traim intr-o epoca in care a fost abolita comdamnarea la uratenie. Frumusetea este o arma si trebuie sa invatam unde si cum o putem afla sau achizitiona, cum o putem utiliza cu maiestrie fara sa o uzam. N-are rost sa plecam ochii in pamant si sa mimam jocul indiferentei. In acest veac se poarta frumusetea si trebuie sa muncim, sa asudam, sa economisim, sa flamanzim, sa ne incordam, sa ne dam de trei ori peste cap ca s-o dobandim. E nedrept, e ridicol, e dramatic, dar nu se poate altfel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Daca deasupra mea ar pogori dorinta prin care mi s-ar da dreptul sa-mi pun o dorinta prin care sa cer sa fiu altcumva, altceva, mai ceva decat sunt, as cere, cu nesimtita incapatanare, mai multa frumusete. Sunt femeie si nimic din ceea ce este femeiesc nu-mi e strain. &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/1341760952455942506-1361800304498679238?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/1361800304498679238/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=1361800304498679238' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/1361800304498679238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/1361800304498679238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2008/07/frumusetea-ca-arma.html' title='FRUMUSETEA CA ARMA'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SjtNwZZJReI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Z_aEwDnrLS0/s72-c/IMG_0133(01).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-3172291668641820353</id><published>2008-06-10T13:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T13:52:45.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>cum funtioneaza intuitia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SE7o-2eaIRI/AAAAAAAAABY/lrn-IdZWTC8/s1600-h/IMG_8362.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210357985386832146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SE7o-2eaIRI/AAAAAAAAABY/lrn-IdZWTC8/s200/IMG_8362.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O voce launtrica, o certitudine inexplicabila... Manifestarile intuitiei sunt multiple. Cu totii i-am simtit efectele intr-un moment sau altul. Iata un ghid succint de utilizare a intuitiei, atat pentru sustinatori, cat si pentru sceptici.In dimineata aceea, Mircea a cumparat un ziar. „Nu stiu de ce am facut-o”, spune el. „Nu cumpar ziare niciodata. Ceva m-a impins sa o fac. Am avut aceeasi senzatie atunci cand l-am deschis la pagina de mica publicitate. Imediat mi-a sarit in ochi un anunt cu un apartament de vanzare. Era intr-un cartier unde visasem dintotdeauna sa stau. M-am dus sa-l vizitez. si sunt douazeci de ani de cand locuiesc in el...”Viata noastra e presarata de astfel de momente cvasimagice, in care ajungem sa facem lucruri neobisnuite, care ne bulverseaza viata cotidiana... Cand urmezi un indemn launtric iti asculti intuitia. Conform Dictionarului Explicativ al Limbii Romane, intuitia este o „forma de cunoastere imediata a adevarului pe baza experientei si a cunostintelor achizitionate anterior, fara rationamente logice preliminare”. Lucrul acesta ne determina sa credem ca dispunem de un sistem de gandire care face apel la alte procese decat cele ale intelegerii rationale.O recunoastere stiintificaPutem oare sa ne incredem insa in acest al saselea simt? Nu, spunea pana nu demult majoritatea oamenilor de stiinta. Aparuta din neant, fara nici o legatura cu cele cinci simturi, pentru ei intuitia parea o inventie... lipsita de bun simt. Cu toate acestea, unii savanti au cercetat acest fenomen captivant. In 1998, doi neurologi celebri, Antonio Damasio si Antoine Bechara, de la Facultatea de Medicina a Universitatii din Iowa, din Statele Unite, care studiau reactiile sistemului nervos ce apar atunci cand luam decizii „riscante”, au avut parte de o mare surpriza. saisprezece persoane au fost asezate in fata a patru pachete de carti de joc intoarse cu fata in jos. Fiecare primea o suma de pornire in valoare de doua mii de dolari. Toate pachetele in&amp;shy;cludeau si carti cas&amp;shy;tigatoare si carti perdante. Inainte ca un participant sa traga o carte cas&amp;shy;tigatoare, sistemul sau nervos reactiona normal. In schimb, se agita si reactiona trans&amp;shy;mitand un „semnal de alarma” atunci cand jucatorul era pe punctul de a intoarce o carte „proasta”. Ca si cum creierul sau era capabil sa „simta” o carte proasta... Cei doi neurologi au ajuns la concluzia ca „mecanismul acesta inconstient dirijeaza comportamentul si este, alaturi de gandirea rationala, ceva necesar...” De atunci, intuitia a devenit o tema de cercetare cu drepturi depline. In prezent, numeroase laboratoare se ocupa de facultatea aceasta a „presentimentului”. Directorul departamentului de psihologie al Universitatii din Amsterdam, Dick Bierman, este categoric: „Experimentele ne demonstreaza ca spiritul nostru este capabil sa anticipeze si sa faca un mic salt in viitor, pentru a ne preveni asupra unui pericol”.Decodarea semnelorGeorge Soros, omul de afaceri ungur si unul dintre marii specialisti in finante de la ora actuala, recunoaste ca, atunci cand isi administreaza afacerile, nu tine cont doar de ratiune. Orice plasament nepotrivit ii provoaca dureri de spate insuportabile. Semnul acesta ii da de inteles ca lucrurile vor lua o intorsatura proasta... Fiecare are propriul sau „detector”. Putem „presimti” un pericol fizic – ni se face pielea de gaina, simtim un nod in gat... – , se poate intampla sa resimtim imediat atractie sau respingere fata de ceva, sa „ne vina” o idee, sa „intrevedem” o imagine sau un simbol...Intuitia are un caracter fulgurant. A gasi brusc solutia unei probleme pe care incerci sa o rezolvi de o luna nu tine de domeniul logicii. Creierul tau a triat probabil informatiile si, fara ca tu sa iti dai seama, a tras o concluzie. El raspunde asadar la o intrebare. In cazul intuitiei, lucrurile stau exact pe dos: capatam raspunsul inainte de a fi pus intrebarea. De exemplu, Ioana, responsabila de preselectia elevilor la un liceu de arta, constata: „De cum ii vad prima data, imi dau seama daca sunt sau nu apti sa urmeze un curs sau altul. Nu spun ni&amp;shy;mic, las echipa profesorala sa ia deciziile. In douazeci de ani totusi, nu m-am inselat niciodata!”Empatia – capacitatea de a resimti ceea ce simte altcineva – este o alta manifestare a simtului nostru intuitiv. Calitatea aceasta constituie esenta relatiei terapeutice. Carl Rogers, unul dintre cei mai importanti teoreticieni ai empatiei in domeniul psihoterapiei, spunea ca „a fi empatic inseamna a percepe cu acuratete cadrul intern de referinta al altuia, cu toate componentele sale emotionale si semnificatiile de referinta care-i apartin, ca si cum ai fi «in cealalta persoana»”. Facultatea aceasta ne permite sa receptionam de la celalalt informatii pe care altfel nu am avea cum sa le primim. Este ca o stare de gratie, care trimite la umanitatea noastra universala, la compasiune si intelegere. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-3172291668641820353?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/3172291668641820353/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=3172291668641820353' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/3172291668641820353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/3172291668641820353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2008/06/cum-funtioneaza-intuitia.html' title='cum funtioneaza intuitia'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SE7o-2eaIRI/AAAAAAAAABY/lrn-IdZWTC8/s72-c/IMG_8362.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-1620573803542167110</id><published>2008-05-22T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T15:32:58.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ceva despre Incredere</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SDWCZdRklYI/AAAAAAAAABI/0xSgUTzXBm0/s1600-h/987654.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203208318363145602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SDWCZdRklYI/AAAAAAAAABI/0xSgUTzXBm0/s200/987654.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Un secret valoreaza atat cat valoreaza cei de care trebuie sa-l pazim."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;m-am temunt intotdeauna sa dezamagesc pe cineva dezgolindu'i secretul dar nu am facut'o. Ma gandesc acum..oare cate secrete sunt parasite in mine ? Foarte multe persoane mi-au impartasit secretul..asta inseman ca sunt o persoana de incredere..dar eu ? eu cui i-am spus secretele mele ? Cred ca nimanui. "Sa nu ai incredere in nimeni niciodata, mai ales in oamenii pe care ii admiri. Astia sunt cei care te vor injunghia cel mai naprasnic ." Adevarat ! Este sngurul cuvant care pot sa-l afirm in momentul asta. Oare cat al valora un secret de-al meu ? Cred ca nimic , pentru ca nu tin sa am asa ceva.. Deci in concluzie..cat valoreaza cei din preajma mea ? .. Tragem la sort sau esti in stare sa ghicesti ? Eh..cam asa ceva.. nimic. Ei nu valoreaza nimic in ochii mei,lumea e facuta ptr a ta injunghia pe la spate, pentru a te aburi cu diverse sentimente pe care multi nici nu le poarta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cineva mi-a spus ca ma iubeste . Sun curioasa cum poti iubi un om cand tii mortis sa nu renunti la parerea ta, cand nu vrei sa-l asculti macar o secunda..cand de fapt..nu-ti pasa care e parerea lui si nu-ti pasa cum se simte in momente dificile . Cat de increzator ar trebui sa fii sa crezi lucrul asta ? Cred ca doar iubind acea persoana o crezi numai cand iti zice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Acum imi dau seama ca fiind mintita de atatea ori si dezamagita de persoane care odata insemnau ceva ptr mine, m-a facut sa-mi pierd lucrul cel mai important..increderea. Este oare asta un lucru bun sau un lucru rau ? Se spune ca daca ai incredere esti fraier, dar cu toate astea in orice relatie trebuie sa existe incredere deplina ca sa stea in picioare. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;hm.. incredere.. unde o pot gasi iar ? dar oare de ce o vreau inapoi ? Insa au ramas 2-3 persoane in care inca mai am incredre, convinsa ca nu ma vor dezamagi niciodata. De ce inca in ei mai am incredere si in restul nu? Cred ca doar eu pot sti raspunsul la increbarea asta dar sincera sa fiu..nu il stiu . Pur si simplu nu-mi pot da seama de ce nu mai simt acelasi lucru..pentru ca prostiile care le fac ei nu ma afecteaza cu nimic. Cred ca asta e si motivul. M-au dezamagit o singura data si apoi s-a dus totul. Cred ca da...asta e raspunsul. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  "  .. "  - Carlos Ruiz Zafon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-1620573803542167110?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/1620573803542167110/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=1620573803542167110' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/1620573803542167110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/1620573803542167110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2008/05/incredere.html' title='ceva despre Incredere'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SDWCZdRklYI/AAAAAAAAABI/0xSgUTzXBm0/s72-c/987654.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-3275263973592674077</id><published>2008-05-13T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T10:32:33.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jalnic..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCnQmB2JiHI/AAAAAAAAABA/9Yf9Fsns9lg/s1600-h/P.+Diddy+-+Press+Play+(Inlay).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199916596525107314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCnQmB2JiHI/AAAAAAAAABA/9Yf9Fsns9lg/s200/P.+Diddy+-+Press+Play+(Inlay).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cum ati devenit voi..femei pline de gratie, fete frumoase si simpatice? Cum ? Cum se scurge timpul..cum va prostiti in acelasi timp ? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eh..fetelor, trebuie sa stiti sa refuzati, sa stiti sa ascultati si alte pareri. Ma uit in jurul meu si vad numai fumatoare si ipocrite fara pic de interes pentru viata pe care o duc. Parintii lor muncesc si se strofoaca pentru voi , si voi cand puneti mana pe un ban, hopa la magazin..&lt;&lt;&gt;&gt; . Nu sunteti oare curioase cum veti arata peste 10-20 de ani ? Nu vreti sa stiti care sunt diferentele ? Si mereu mereu vad numai pustoaice ce injura si se cred mai superioare cand fac asta..oare de ce? Asta va da mai multa incredere in voi ? Nu -mi vine sa cred, poate ca da..poate ca daia o si faceti, sau poate ca va credeti mai interesante, incercati sa iesiti mai mult in evidenta ! Asta este de fapt, raspunsul la toate intrebarile in legatura cu feminismul din ziua de astazi. Va credeti mai interesante daca faceti toate aceste lucruri ridicole, fara pic de rusine . Pot ? Nu e bine sa judec, dar va dau un singur sfat. Interesante nu sunteti deloc..sau poate pentru niste pusti la fel de mici ca voi. Si in plus..nu va ajuta cu nimic asta.Dar de aici devine problema fiecareia. Ganditi'va bine ce faceti. In ochii mei sunteti niste nimicuri fara pic de clasa. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu impresionati cu nimic ! Sunteti doar niste furnici luate de vantul plin de praf ce inconjoara Bucurestiul . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ma amuz cand va vad . Jalnic...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;U S M - Cum te taie pe tine..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tre` sa faci totul cum te taie pe tineDar ai grija multCa in general fetele isi iau tzeapa multSi sti cu e...O vezi pe amica ta cu 22 de ani,Te lauzi cu el..Ajungi unul din pustani..Asa ca...fii tu timidaFa tu ce-ai de facut,caci...Lumea e perfida si-asta nu e de vazutNu zic sa te lovesti de ea la 20Da` nici s-o treci inainte sa stii s-alegiTre` sa stii sa refuzi,sa stii sa accepti,sa stii sa te scuziStiu ca fetele fumeaza Kent,te-amuzi,Multe fete ca tine n-au voie nici macar in bar,Multe o ard "plm" in vocabular,arde-o sucarN-aborda un stil vestimentar dupa tiparCat despre ei n-o arde cu "gay" ca e bizarSunteti 2 cupluri pe strada,(neeah)De fapt sunteti 4 p***e la parada Cat despre ce asculti...(ha)..Nu asculta inculti ca te insulti..Doar daca nu vrei sa faci parte dintre multi...yeah yeah..Si stiu ca varsta voastra implica orgoliiDar nu scrie nicaieri ca tre` sa fii tarfa scolii,S-o arzi cu molii pe coridorArfe ca-s buni in dormitorArfe ca au masina lor...sau...Vrei sa te bage-n inventarDupa ce o arzi cu ei la un pahar,fii desteapta macar..Nu ca bagaboanta,pe banda fantaC-asa te duci pe p**a si la propriu si la figurat,Mai bine asculti decat sa te f**i cu manelisti pe banuti..Ca e pacat...O printesa ca tine,sa stea pe vineS-astepte cum vine de la un bulangiu Care nu zice c-are acasa fiica si fiu,Care are bani de fetitze,de unde nu stiu..Da` stim ca e tentatieSi stiu ca`ti dau cu ratie,Si stiu ca-i panica cu banii ca fac lumea sa se agite,Caile-s sucite..Esti una care stie sa profite..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-3275263973592674077?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/3275263973592674077/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=3275263973592674077' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/3275263973592674077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/3275263973592674077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2008/05/jalnic.html' title='Jalnic..'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCnQmB2JiHI/AAAAAAAAABA/9Yf9Fsns9lg/s72-c/P.+Diddy+-+Press+Play+(Inlay).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-4793978524045669134</id><published>2008-05-11T04:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T04:16:19.615-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Visare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCbVax2JiGI/AAAAAAAAAA4/1mpDc_PcFnE/s1600-h/2191438149_64c6b8b591.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199077475879585890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCbVax2JiGI/AAAAAAAAAA4/1mpDc_PcFnE/s320/2191438149_64c6b8b591.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Critica-ma !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Te critici pe tine . Minte-ma !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deschide ochii. Tu esti singurul care se minte! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu-ti dai seama ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunt om ca si tine, nu-ti poti ascunde teama !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prieten ? Doar individ cu suflet .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amic ? Nepasator sincer. Incep sa cuget.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prieteni ce critca?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu intelegi..sunt doar oameni ce-ti poarte pica.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prieteni adevarati ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hm.. 2-3 oameni neinfricati !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu am incredere in voi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pentru mine sunteti doar paraziti vioi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Insulte ? Pentru mine ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Doar cuvine goale...sau..pline ?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Manifestari ciudate ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hah.. iulizii sau doar fapte&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Scapate de sub control, poate .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cine stie ? La usa intunericul bate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deschid usa, nimic nu ma abate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lumina din suflet il strabate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Toate acestea sunt doar ganduri scrise intr-o carte.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pleaca! Du'te departe !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu am nevoie de tine, plapand cu aripi furate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ridica capacul cosciugului&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Incep sa ma sufoc, nu pot controla repeziciunea gandului&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ridica-ma delicat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stii doar ca tu esti cel implicat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu stii cum s-a intamplat ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Simplu..Usor tu m-ai lasat sa cad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cutremur ? Nu. Doar furtuna !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Zaresc o lumina nocturna&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O stea ma indeamna sa o tin de mana&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Zambesc ! Ba nu. Rad , cu el ..impreuna&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;El ? Demon deghizat in soare&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu mi-a fost cu mirare&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Asta a fost ce mi-a placut , oare?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu conteaza. Faptul e consumat. DoARE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sau nu. Nu cedez presiunii morale.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Totul este doar o inscenare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu-mi pasa, nu scriu la intamplare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vei crede ca visez, ori ca nu ii dau importanta mare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gresesti ! Nu incerca sa intelegi, oricum pentru tine nu are valoare.&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/1341760952455942506-4793978524045669134?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/4793978524045669134/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=4793978524045669134' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/4793978524045669134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/4793978524045669134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2008/05/visare.html' title='Visare'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCbVax2JiGI/AAAAAAAAAA4/1mpDc_PcFnE/s72-c/2191438149_64c6b8b591.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-5084638903448897536</id><published>2008-05-09T14:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T14:57:18.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>neinfricare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCTIlV66ZpI/AAAAAAAAAAw/H3KUBsfm-K8/s1600-h/DSCF29180.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198500413757351570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCTIlV66ZpI/AAAAAAAAAAw/H3KUBsfm-K8/s320/DSCF29180.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Astazi m-am intalnit cu un fost profesor de-al meu. Om batran cu carte si instruire sufleteasca. Om cu capul p umeri la 4 ace, un adevarat exemplu pentru noi, mai mult pentru voi cei ce nu vreti sa vedeti adevarata valoare a unui om !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am fost surprinsa sa aud un lucru care m-a schimbat radical, mi-a schimbat punctul de vedere si m-a facut sa privesc spre noi orizonturi..iar si iar..si iar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;" Nu te ingrijora din cauza oamenilor din trecutul tau: exista un motiv pentru care ei nu reusesc sa intre in viitorul tau !" mi-a zambit el cu un glas firav si prietenos. Atunci m-am gandit la toate intamplarile din ultima perioada indelungata si mi-am dat seama ca acest om are dpreptate. Destui dintre noi se cred prizonierii destinului nedrept, dar nu sunt decat incatusatii propriilor mentalitati mlastinoase. Nu vreau sa fiu unul dintre acesti prizonieri ai propriilor destine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cei mai multi dintre oameni s-ar lasa mai lesne convinsi ca sunt o bucata de lava de pe Luna , decat ca sunt EU. Acela care inca nu a cazut de acord cu sine insusi in aceasta privinta nu intelege nici o filosofie temeinica si nici nu are nevoie de vreuna. Natura, al carei automat este el, il va indruma singura, fara participarea lui, in tot ce are de facut. Ca sa filosofezi, e nevoie de independenta: iar aceasta nu ti-o poti da decat tu insuti. Noi nu pretindem sa vedem fara ochi; dar sa nu afirmam nici ca ochiul vede. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;" Orase,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pe sub ele, canale de scurgere&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Inauntru nu e nimic, iar deasupra, fum.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Noi am trait acolo. N-am avut parte de nici o bucurie.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Am plecat repede. Si incet, ele pleaca la randul lor. "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[ Bertolt Brecht , " Piedici domestice" ]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-5084638903448897536?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/5084638903448897536/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=5084638903448897536' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/5084638903448897536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/5084638903448897536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2008/05/neinfricare.html' title='neinfricare'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCTIlV66ZpI/AAAAAAAAAAw/H3KUBsfm-K8/s72-c/DSCF29180.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-5146719923501620437</id><published>2008-05-06T23:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T02:21:00.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>forme nesigure</title><content type='html'>Ma aflu pe platoul de firmare. Viclean! Subtil ! Iritat !Iata cum isi tine promisiunile! Iata cum respecta pactele ! Dorm, si visez..ce visez? O multime de vise nesemnificative, carora nu le pot gasi un rost dar totusi inca ma straduiesc sa le descifrez. Visez un platou de filmare..eu, cameramanul si regizorul acestul film. Care film ?Cine sunt producatorii? Dar cine sunt actorii? Nu stiu. Nu am de unde sa stiu. Tot ce stiu este ca acest film este filmul pe care il visez . Cu un gest profesional, imi indrept ochiul drept spre obictivul camerei. Privirea mea de regizor incadreaza intr-un colt al studioului, un spatiu calduros, un pat, un barbat si o femeie. Amandoi sunt goi. Barbatul, un tinerel bine facut, ganditor, cu o atitudine de boxer obosit, stand pe scaun, tinand cotul drept pe genunchiul piciorul drept, care la randul lui e pus peste piciorul drept, luand o usoara pozitie feminina si tinandu'si usor capul in palma dreapta cu un zambet de copil. Femeia. Femeia, sta intinsa pe spate, soldurile ei atrag privirile din jur..care priviri? sunt doar eu, ea si tanarul actor. Parul ei lung se asterne finut pe colona neterminabila. sanii ei mari se strivesc de cearsaful alb al patului. Femeia se ridica din pat. Urma in scenariul meu sa dea nervoasa cu podul palmei de singura lampa asezata pe noptiera desertica. Dar nu a fost asa. Femeia goala se indrepta spre mine. Vroiam sa strig " Stop! Opreste'te, trebuie sa faci..asa asa si asa " . Dar vocea mea parca se oglindea doar in mine. Nu aveam puterea necesara sa strig. Ii admiram corpul ei frumos, subtire prin obiectivul camerei inchise la culoare. Incet, incet, capul si picioarele ei ies din cadrul camerei. Ii admir bustul frumos si nu realizez de ce, incet incet isi ia nuantarea unui tablou admirand un uger de vaca. Frumosul ei abdomen capata forme intense, atarnand ca un lant greu de gatul unui caine slabanog.Sa nu mai vorbesc despre pubisul ei.. nu era la fel de cret ca altadata.. tot corpul ei imbatranise, si in ciuda imaginatiei mele reuseam sa observ varsta corpului.   Ma trezesc din vis. Oare ce o fi vrut sa insemne asta ? Voi lua aminte. Frumusetea e trecatoare. In apropierea obictivului, se vedea stricaciunea din acel mar frumos si rosu, stralucitor de rosu pe care il vazusem inainte. M-am speriat. M-am trezit. M-am imbracat. Am plecat la liceu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-5146719923501620437?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/5146719923501620437/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=5146719923501620437' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/5146719923501620437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/5146719923501620437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2008/05/forme-nesigure.html' title='forme nesigure'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1341760952455942506.post-925313412115236485</id><published>2008-05-06T23:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T00:01:55.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inselata inca o data</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCFMpHM8DcI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ScaTWXRjpOM/s1600-h/24%20sept.%20009"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197519714153926082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCFMpHM8DcI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ScaTWXRjpOM/s320/24%2520sept.%2520009" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si oare cum poti crede ca toate vor fi bine ..cand in momentul de fata toate merg pe dos? Si cum poti avea prieteni cand acestia sunt doar alte persoane oarecare ca si tine..si sunt la fel de nepasatori..desi cateodata au senzatia ca simt ceva pentru tine! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prieteni ? Stim cu toti ce sunt prieteni.. sunt persoanele care le vei gasi mereu in spatele tau, care te vor urma pretutindeni..cel putin cu gandul. Sunt acele persoane carora le pasa, te contacteaza daca nu dai nici un semn de viata cel putin o zi, sunt cei mai minunati ingeri care ii poti gasi pe pamant. Ei sunt acele persoane care in ochii tai sunt supraapreciate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok. Stim ce sunt prietenii... dar oare..dusmanii ce or fi ? S-a gandit vreodata cineva ca poti trai alaturi de un dusman ? Ca exista..dusmani pe viata ?! In ochii mei dusmanii sunt persoanele superficiale, proaste, carora daca le dai un deget iti iau toata mana, napasatori si ipocriti. Da ..ei sunt..ii recunnosti de la o posta daca te uiti cu atentie. Asta este evident..prin modeul lor de a vorbi cu tine, felul de a se purta. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prieteni si dusmani..intre aceste doua grupuri pereche...se afla oamenii simpli.Oameni ca mine si ca tine, care in fata altora nu au nici o responsabilitate sau obligatie. Avem si noi prieteni..dar avem si dusmani. Dar intotdeauna stim sa ne adaptam modului fiecaruia de viata, stim sa ne intelegem..ba chiar..gandim ! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ma uit de sus la acesti oameni..la dusmani care nu stiu decat sa critice, la prieteni pe care ii supraapreciezi si de fapt..eu pentru ei ce sunt ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Care este rolul meu in povestea asta? Sa ii impac? sau sa nu am de aface cu nimeni? Sau poate ca trebuie sa fiu prietenoasa pana la capat..si sa pretind ca imi pasa dar de fapt sa imi peste doar de persoana mea..dar asta m-ai face pe mine un prieten / dusman al celui de langa mine. Cum pot fi oare un om simplu ? Un om fara griji si greutati ? Se poate asa ceva ? Sigur ca da. Om independent, vesel..la bine si la rau, realist , binevoitor, ascultator. Da..aici ma incadrez cel mai bine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cum as putea sa fac prietenii sa ma vada asa cum ii vad eu ? Intrebarea este daca pot !...we will see..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1341760952455942506-925313412115236485?l=pici00l.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/feeds/925313412115236485/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1341760952455942506&amp;postID=925313412115236485' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/925313412115236485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1341760952455942506/posts/default/925313412115236485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pici00l.blogspot.com/2008/05/inselata-inca-o-data.html' title='Inselata inca o data'/><author><name>Adeline.R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06625872026575359595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='7' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/TGG2xlk62gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/VvJwjEV873Q/S220/IMG_0398(06).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_URmh7-d3rTk/SCFMpHM8DcI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ScaTWXRjpOM/s72-c/24%2520sept.%2520009' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
