<?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-4033569166275896948</id><updated>2012-02-13T23:34:41.294+02:00</updated><category term='ciorne'/><category term='made me smile today'/><category term='made me cry today'/><category term='întâmplări neîntâmplătoare'/><category term='scenariu scurt'/><category term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'>No idea</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>191</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5049539892221844980</id><published>2012-02-13T23:26:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2012-02-13T23:34:41.301+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Please be something else!</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="400" height="233" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/MejbOFk7H6c" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5049539892221844980?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5049539892221844980/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5049539892221844980&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5049539892221844980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5049539892221844980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2012/02/please-be-something-else.html' title='Please be something else!'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/MejbOFk7H6c/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-1962200934815395489</id><published>2012-01-23T22:59:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T23:03:53.585+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre mine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qFkODRct_88/Tx3KlbVSjtI/AAAAAAAAApw/vbIQvKkdvxM/s1600/kids.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 319px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qFkODRct_88/Tx3KlbVSjtI/AAAAAAAAApw/vbIQvKkdvxM/s400/kids.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700935447661940434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I struggle to find any truth in your lies,&lt;br /&gt;And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know&lt;br /&gt;My weakness I feel I must finally show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all&lt;br /&gt;But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall,&lt;br /&gt;Lend me your eyes I can change what you see&lt;br /&gt;But your soul you must keep, totally free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In these bodies we will live,&lt;br /&gt;in these bodies we will die&lt;br /&gt;Where you invest your love,&lt;br /&gt;you invest your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/U7DcySekLKY?rel=0" allowfullscreen="" width="420" frameborder="0" height="315"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-1962200934815395489?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/1962200934815395489/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=1962200934815395489&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1962200934815395489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1962200934815395489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2012/01/despre-mine.html' title='Despre mine'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qFkODRct_88/Tx3KlbVSjtI/AAAAAAAAApw/vbIQvKkdvxM/s72-c/kids.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7832448030429359878</id><published>2012-01-02T16:26:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T22:18:45.304+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cu funda-n par</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JwJzuZkynkE/TwHBsL00T0I/AAAAAAAAApc/Vpg_E4yDoQk/s1600/fundi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 332px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JwJzuZkynkE/TwHBsL00T0I/AAAAAAAAApc/Vpg_E4yDoQk/s400/fundi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693044368805744450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-am amintit o scena din prima zi de scoala in clasa I, eu eram cea mai mica din clasa si probabil dintre toti cei adunati acolo. Aveam sase ani si imi amintesc perfect un baiat care statea cu mainile buzunar cu o atitudine foarte increzatoare si le zicea tuturor ca el are 8 ani. Avea un aer de Colombo cu parul castaniu valvoi si se plimba nonsalant printre noi ceilalti care stateam alinianti cumiti. Era de la A, eu de la C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anul asta mi-am pus funda ca in clasa I, am dansat cu oameni noi si m-am uitat pe cer pana s-au stins stelele si zorii au luminat pe afara, dar nu si in visele mele. Nu cred ca stiu mai multe ca in acea prima zi de scoala, tot m-as uita lung dupa un tip cu spirit de "know-it-all" si cu aer de detectiv iscoditor. Simt ca n-am nimic pentru totdeauna si ca am sa raman doar cu pozele astea din amintirle mele si-as vrea  sa las dorurile in urma dintr-o rasuflare si sa pot primi tot ce-i nou ca pe o urmare firesca, caci se pare ca asa e sa fie pentru mine. "Mergi mai departe cu incredere, caci te vei reintalni cu trecutul si va fi fabulos!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7832448030429359878?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/7832448030429359878/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=7832448030429359878&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7832448030429359878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7832448030429359878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2012/01/cu-funda-n-par.html' title='Cu funda-n par'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JwJzuZkynkE/TwHBsL00T0I/AAAAAAAAApc/Vpg_E4yDoQk/s72-c/fundi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-8086266983605543775</id><published>2011-12-28T00:47:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T11:49:56.140+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Cantecul asta da bine cu blogul asta penibil al meu plin de smiorcaieli si revelatii de doi bani. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to save myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe width="350" height="208" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eJDSueNSMJE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-8086266983605543775?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/8086266983605543775/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=8086266983605543775&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8086266983605543775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8086266983605543775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/12/cantecul-asta-da-bine-cu-blogul-asta.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/eJDSueNSMJE/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5491679250784926872</id><published>2011-12-20T01:28:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T01:54:46.182+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Nu mai sunt tramvaie in Constanta. Si tramvaiele astea fac zgomot, dar parca sunt si ele parte din personalitatea unui oras, parca-i dau asa o grandoare, fie ea si de suprafata. Aveam momentele mele in tramvai; tramvaiele sunt si mistico-magice daca ai destula imaginatie si vointa. Gandurile mele taiate metalic sub rotile alunecand pe sine si zdranganitul gemurilor rasunand in urechi. Era ca un fel de masina de tocat griji, sau poate vise. M-am mai simtit asa cand mergeam la drum lung cu masina; ma uitam in urma si vedeam decorul micsorandu-se si marcajele de pe sosea fugind pe langa mine. Doar miscarea asta grabita, indepartarea de un punct fix pe mine ma elibereaza nu stiu precis de ce anume, dar ceva este. Poate de cate putin din mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5491679250784926872?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5491679250784926872/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5491679250784926872&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5491679250784926872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5491679250784926872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/12/nu-mai-sunt-tramvaie-in-constanta.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5000489685925178885</id><published>2011-12-04T00:59:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T01:03:19.809+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The ability to look away and keep me close, at the same time.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UN1uJok314s/Ttqp4s8I8-I/AAAAAAAAApE/pOvgzqQG0uQ/s1600/close.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UN1uJok314s/Ttqp4s8I8-I/AAAAAAAAApE/pOvgzqQG0uQ/s400/close.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682040671482475490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;If two people are meant to be together, eventually they ll find their way back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5000489685925178885?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5000489685925178885/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5000489685925178885&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5000489685925178885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5000489685925178885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/12/ability-to-look-away-and-keep-me-close.html' title='The ability to look away and keep me close, at the same time.'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UN1uJok314s/Ttqp4s8I8-I/AAAAAAAAApE/pOvgzqQG0uQ/s72-c/close.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-3206733884930015351</id><published>2011-10-14T23:41:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T23:45:40.936+03:00</updated><title type='text'>The egg</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BABRm6ecRZ4/TpifZTObKdI/AAAAAAAAAos/u-iZztrtJ9w/s1600/uni.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BABRm6ecRZ4/TpifZTObKdI/AAAAAAAAAos/u-iZztrtJ9w/s400/uni.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663451788424718802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were on your way home when you died.&lt;br /&gt;It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.&lt;br /&gt;And that’s when you met me.&lt;br /&gt;“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”&lt;br /&gt;“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.&lt;br /&gt;“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”&lt;br /&gt;“Yup,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“I… I died?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”&lt;br /&gt;“More or less,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“Are you god?” You asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”&lt;br /&gt;“My kids… my wife,” you said.&lt;br /&gt;“What about them?”&lt;br /&gt;“Will they be all right?”&lt;br /&gt;“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”&lt;br /&gt;You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”&lt;br /&gt;“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”&lt;br /&gt;“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”&lt;br /&gt;“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”&lt;br /&gt;You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”&lt;br /&gt;“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”&lt;br /&gt;“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”&lt;br /&gt;“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”&lt;br /&gt;I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.&lt;br /&gt;“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”&lt;br /&gt;“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”&lt;br /&gt;“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”&lt;br /&gt;“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”&lt;br /&gt;“Where you come from?” You said.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”&lt;br /&gt;“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”&lt;br /&gt;“So what’s the point of it all?”&lt;br /&gt;“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”&lt;br /&gt;“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.&lt;br /&gt;I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”&lt;br /&gt;“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”&lt;br /&gt;“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”&lt;br /&gt;“Just me? What about everyone else?”&lt;br /&gt;“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”&lt;br /&gt;You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”&lt;br /&gt;“All you. Different incarnations of you.”&lt;br /&gt;“Wait. I’m everyone!?”&lt;br /&gt;“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.&lt;br /&gt;“I’m every human being who ever lived?”&lt;br /&gt;“Or who will ever live, yes.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”&lt;br /&gt;“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.&lt;br /&gt;“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.&lt;br /&gt;“And you’re the millions he killed.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m Jesus?”&lt;br /&gt;“And you’re everyone who followed him.”&lt;br /&gt;You fell silent.&lt;br /&gt;“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”&lt;br /&gt;You thought for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”&lt;br /&gt;“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”&lt;br /&gt;“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”&lt;br /&gt;“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”&lt;br /&gt;“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”&lt;br /&gt;“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”&lt;br /&gt;And I sent you on your way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Egg&lt;br /&gt;By: Andy Weir&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-3206733884930015351?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/3206733884930015351/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=3206733884930015351&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3206733884930015351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3206733884930015351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/10/egg.html' title='The egg'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BABRm6ecRZ4/TpifZTObKdI/AAAAAAAAAos/u-iZztrtJ9w/s72-c/uni.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-6444661359694701835</id><published>2011-10-14T23:38:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T23:41:12.582+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh please don't barrage me with the questions  to all those ugly answers.</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/6EeQNmGknak" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My ego's like my stomach,it keeps shitting what I feed it." :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-6444661359694701835?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/6444661359694701835/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=6444661359694701835&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6444661359694701835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6444661359694701835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/10/oh-please-dont-barrage-me-with.html' title='Oh please don&apos;t barrage me with the questions  to all those ugly answers.'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/6EeQNmGknak/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-9202225123839260184</id><published>2011-07-27T01:02:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T01:20:20.775+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunt un pod</title><content type='html'>Can't say much of anything that's new.  Doar atat:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(66, 40, 23); "&gt;Sint un pod peste riu,&lt;br /&gt;Catre tine mereu,&lt;br /&gt;Pe nimic sprijinit,&lt;br /&gt;Doar pe sufletul meu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acest riu nemilos&lt;br /&gt;Ma va sparge-n bucati,&lt;br /&gt;Starea mea o-nteleg,&lt;br /&gt;Dar si tu seama da-ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sint un pod peste riu,&lt;br /&gt;Pe pilonii mei tristi,&lt;br /&gt;Catre tine mereu,&lt;br /&gt;Insa tu nu existi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu-ntelegi ca mi-e greu,&lt;br /&gt;Ca mi-e frig si urat,&lt;br /&gt;Sint greoi si sint fix,&lt;br /&gt;Sint un pod si atat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unde-apuc sa ma duc&lt;br /&gt;Sunt silit sa raman&lt;br /&gt;Ca miroase a fier,&lt;br /&gt;Ca miroase a fin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si deodata-nteleg&lt;br /&gt;Ca sint trist in zadar,&lt;br /&gt;Pe pilonii mei tristi&lt;br /&gt;Ma cuprind si tresar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu simti tot ce simt eu,&lt;br /&gt;Ba mai grav, ba mai mult,&lt;br /&gt;Plansul tau permanent&lt;br /&gt;Il preiau si il ascult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si dau parca ecou&lt;br /&gt;Si vibrez in alt mod,&lt;br /&gt;In picioare calcat&lt;br /&gt;Ca un om, ca un pod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sint un pod peste riu,&lt;br /&gt;Sint un pod peste mers,&lt;br /&gt;Cite vanturi m-au scris,&lt;br /&gt;Cite ploi m-au tot sters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar tu nu esti pe mal,&lt;br /&gt;Dar tu nu esti cu ei,&lt;br /&gt;Dar tu nu ma strivesti,&lt;br /&gt;Tu ma tii si ma bei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sint un pod ridicat&lt;br /&gt;Peste-un riu incomod,&lt;br /&gt;Sint un pod, esti un riu,&lt;br /&gt;Esti un riu, sunt un pod.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;- Adrian Paunescu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;Si da, de la Amy stiu melodia asta si da, ma intreb si eu: "does't anybody stay in one place anymore?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/VT0sUSB0Y8U" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-9202225123839260184?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/9202225123839260184/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=9202225123839260184&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/9202225123839260184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/9202225123839260184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/07/doesnt-anybody-stay-in-one-place.html' title='Sunt un pod'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/VT0sUSB0Y8U/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-2204036337269333985</id><published>2011-07-03T01:46:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T13:18:40.581+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Tot ce ne trebuie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_EfwQuVZ-As/Tg-f__Upv5I/AAAAAAAAAnE/a97wlxpVcwE/s1600/wha.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 308px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_EfwQuVZ-As/Tg-f__Upv5I/AAAAAAAAAnE/a97wlxpVcwE/s400/wha.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624890381287669650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nota: Imi asum tot penibilul incercari ce va urma s-o fac. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cred ca mi se pare doar mie, dar iubirea nu-i ceea ce cred mai toti oamenii ca e. Afectiunea e una, atasamentul este si el ceva, dar iubirea... La radio aud "I'm lost without your love and I won't survive", da e o metafora, dar eu tot incep sa cred ca nu despre asta e vorba. Si mi-e dificil sa incerc sa dau o definitie pentru ca ma simt depasita de complexitatea a ceea ce incerc sa cuprind. Eu cred ca iubirea e rara; la fel de rara ca momentele in care suntem capabili sa renuntam complet la noi. Si cand zic complet ma refer la sensul total, sincer si absolut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In unele curente de gandire/filozifie se spune ca intelepciunea se poate atinge doar prin iubire. Si eu zic la fel, tocmai pentru ca mi se pare ca avem de strabatut un drum in care sa invatam pas cu pas ce e iubirea. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu cred ca iubirea "te loveste", poate ca se intampla asta cu pasiunea, curiozitatea sau instinctul, dar iubirea...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In alte perspective mai apropiate bisericii ortodoxe se vorbeste despre suferinta si faptul ca ea este necesara pentru a fi mantuit. Am sa dau si acestei idei credit. Nu vreau sa fac lucrurile complicate in mod gratuit, dar cred ca asa-numita "suferinta" face parte din viata, ne purifica, ne creste, ne invata sa deosebim binele de rau, ne aduce cu picioarele pe pamant, dar ne face si mai curajosi cand ne nom dori sa visam din nou; si, pana la urma, suferinta ne invata si sa iubim. Sau macar ne preda cate o lectie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De asta imi place poezia, de asta imi place simfonia, arta... ofera doar stimuli pentru a percepe un mesaj asa cum il putem simti. Gasesc justificata acea amiguitate si subiectivismul lor pentru ca sunt izvorate din cele mai pure si puternice sentimente pe care nu le poti incadra in concret si atunci intervine talentul si matifestarea sa artistica.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/aZD9nt_wsY0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-2204036337269333985?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/2204036337269333985/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=2204036337269333985&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2204036337269333985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2204036337269333985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/07/tot-ce-ne-trebuie.html' title='Tot ce ne trebuie'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_EfwQuVZ-As/Tg-f__Upv5I/AAAAAAAAAnE/a97wlxpVcwE/s72-c/wha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-1620536606907301564</id><published>2011-06-28T01:57:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T03:47:32.960+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hsY5BgMSvVE/TgkklyS6yRI/AAAAAAAAAm8/2tEQ8Du1F6Y/s1600/image-216566-galleryv9-rers.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hsY5BgMSvVE/TgkklyS6yRI/AAAAAAAAAm8/2tEQ8Du1F6Y/s400/image-216566-galleryv9-rers.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623065841323657490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Ma plec...&lt;div&gt;In momentele cand ma simt mica, atat de mica incat n-as fi, atunci, paradoxal ma simt mai puternica, mai linistita.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cand stiu ca oricat as vrea, oricat m-as perpeli, nu pot avea ce-mi doresc cel mai mult, aflu ca nu trebuie sa folosesc superlative pentru dorinte si ca totul este exact asa cum trebuie sa fie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Atunci cand vreau totul, cand nu-mi ajunge, cand cer in plus, cand simt lipsa unui surplus, atunci sunt mai pustie si mai goala ca oricand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ma pierd mai des decat ma aflu, dar ma intreb mereu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ca să poţi să te fii, stai locului şi sfinţeşte-l, iar în călătorie trimite-ţi numai ochiul.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;Vai de cel care se odihneşte la umbra copacului sădit de strămoşul altuia. Lasă-te ars de soare, dacă n-ai moştenit vreo umbră de arbore. Sădeşte-te tu însuţi, dacă nu s-a sădit pentru tine! Fii strămoş, dacă n-ai avut norocul să fii strănepot.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;N-am rabdare si ma consum ca o mina ce mazgaleste cate putin pe foi neincepute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Ma analizez cel mai mult, cel mai felurit, ma cert, ma uit, ma las, ma chem, ma alung, ma urasc, ma iubesc, ma mint, ma critic, incerc in cerc sa ma inteleg, sa ma accept, sa fiu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dacă vrei să existe cinste şi curăţenie, fii chiar tu însuţi cinstit şi curat. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Degetele mele simt, dar mai putin decat sufletul, care calatoreste, se indragosteste, se amaraste, se inveseleste, tanjeste. Da, tanjeste... Ce cuvant. Dur, poate greu de acceptat pentru un om orgolios, dar un cuvant atat de frumos si potrivit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;i&gt;Când seara s-ar face gri, Nu te-ai mai putea stăpâni...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Desi ar parea ca astept, eu nu mai astept nimic. Eu sunt mica, mica, dar atat de puternica si pot sa cred -in primul rand in mine, in rest, nu ma mai astept la nimic. Dar voi iubi mai mult, voi zambi si mai mult. Asa naiv cum suna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;Nu trăim decât o singură dată şi numai o singură viaţă.&lt;br /&gt;A avea un ideal înseamnă a avea oglindă.&lt;br /&gt;Într-un ideal te speli ca-ntr-o apă curată. Într-o oglindă îţi speli chipul obosit, potrivindu-ţi-l până când accepţi să fii.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&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/4033569166275896948-1620536606907301564?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/1620536606907301564/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=1620536606907301564&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1620536606907301564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1620536606907301564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/06/ma-plec.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hsY5BgMSvVE/TgkklyS6yRI/AAAAAAAAAm8/2tEQ8Du1F6Y/s72-c/image-216566-galleryv9-rers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-330125321672184029</id><published>2011-06-13T00:00:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T00:06:44.459+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_iK37fZZN_M/TfUppF6mUbI/AAAAAAAAAm0/RmCwyxGVHxo/s1600/loving%2Bwhat%2Bu%2Bdo.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_iK37fZZN_M/TfUppF6mUbI/AAAAAAAAAm0/RmCwyxGVHxo/s400/loving%2Bwhat%2Bu%2Bdo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617441896153895346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;1. Realize that you are employed by an organization to obtain results for that organization. You are not employed to like what you do, or to be acknowledged. Consider those just ‘bonuses’. Focus on the work itself and do your best to obtain the results you need to. The fact that you work to the best of your abilities has intrinsic value in itself. Choose to be peacefully content and train you mind-heart to produce joy when you do things with a sincere intention to do well. Remember that “a rose is beautiful whether someone looks at it or not”.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;2. Remember that&lt;b&gt; you are not your function, your work, your ‘success’/'failure’&lt;/b&gt;. Step aside from your identification with what you do and how you feel in the moment. You are many mind-events moments, and the life energy inside you, which makes these moments possible, is different than the life circumstances you experience. What kind of person do you prefer to be? Right action builds more being and being with awareness leads to right action. Is there a type of action that is ‘always’ right? Maybe the will to do, with joy and contentment, whatever needs to be done to obtain the expected results, without expectations about the nature of the results. The data obtained through an experiment can be called a success or a failure. Or they can be called nothing and be seen as mere data.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;John C. Maxwell’s perspective – “The whole idea of motivation is a trap. Forget motivation. Just do it. Exercise, lose weight, test your blood sugar, or whatever. Do it without motivation. And then, guess what? After you start doing the thing, that’s when the motivation comes and makes it easy for you to keep on doing it.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-330125321672184029?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/330125321672184029/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=330125321672184029&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/330125321672184029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/330125321672184029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/06/1.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_iK37fZZN_M/TfUppF6mUbI/AAAAAAAAAm0/RmCwyxGVHxo/s72-c/loving%2Bwhat%2Bu%2Bdo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-6225090545322187221</id><published>2011-04-20T23:15:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T23:58:47.734+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Imi doresc</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ma trezesc dorindu-mi foarte multe lucruri, majoritatea dintre ele nefiid realizabile prea usor sau chiar foarte greu. Si nu e drept, stiu. As putea sa-mi doresc doar sa fiu sanatoasa si sa vad lumina soarelui. Si in sufletul meu am realizat cat de important e un lucru simplu pe care pana la un moment dat il iei ca ceva banal. E momentul asta al sarbatorii pe care il respect ca pe orice mister, moment in care toti se gandesc la cum sa fie mai generosi, un moment in care incerci sa iti purifici sufletul macar putin, dar eu ma amarasc ca o visina pentru nu pot sa-mi implinesc vise mai mari sau mai marunte. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu pot sa merg nici macar pana la nenorocita aia de Budapesta, care-i colea; vreau sa vad lumea si efectiv sunt depasita financiar si contextual ( adica nu am cu cine si nici un alt scop care sa ma duca pe alte taramuri). Si astea-s motivele aparente, pentru ca stiu ca este vorba si despre curajul meu de a face ceva in privinta asta oricat de greu mi-ar fi si oricat de multe bariere (proprii si externe) ar trebui sa daram.Visez la New York si la Tokyo de curand, visez la peisaje exotice si linistite si ma straduiesc sa nu transform in frustrari aceste dorinte si perspectiva lor slaba de implinire. Si obosesc uneori si simt cum incolteste oftica si mai mult tristetea ca am sa raman asa tare neimplinita.  Daca ar fi sa ma autoacuz de lipsa rabdarii sau a maturitatii, nu as fii prea vehementa pentru ca as putea sa astept, sa am rabdare, dar daca as avea macar o perspectiva timida ca viitorul va fi tangetial cu dorintele mele.  Ma gandesc ca nu merit, ca nu fac nimic concret in sensul asta si doar stau in fund si ma plang si ma gandesc ca nu vreau sa ma cert urat cu ai mei. Cred ca sunt toate astea, dar si faptul ca efectiv mi-e frica, ca ma simt singura in visele mele si nici nu mai cred in mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mi-am cumparat 2 sutiene si mai vreau sa-mi cumpar unu (foarte frivol stiu) si i le-am aratat cu ochi veseli mamei, care mi-a zis ca nu stiu sa-mi pastrez banii, ca asa toti ne dorim multe lucruri dar nu se  poate... trebuie sa ne limitam. Si iaca-asa am fost eu crescuta si cum am tendinta deja bine cunoscuta mie sa fac fix invers, sunt total impotriva limitarii. Eu ma hranesc din bucurii mici, imi place sa economisesc, dar simt ca ma ofilesc daca imi tot aman implinirea dorintelor, simt ca mi se duce viata. De fapt, habar n-am de viata, ca e pe zile si ma tem ca o sa ajung la un punct cu vreo cateva economii in care sa ma intreb de ce n-am facut aia sau cealalta si sa fie prea tarziu pentru vreo recuperare. Asa ca sa-mi fie cu iertare ca nu vreau sa fiu prea chibzuita si sa-mi fie rusine ca nici acum nu mi-am cumparat o carte despre care am scris pe blog de mult "Jurnalul unei fete greu de multumit", al carui titlu incheie sugestiv acesta vaicareala.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Am notat aici ca sa citesc peste ceva timp sa vad daca tot asa neimplinita am ramas si eventual sa imi reanimez dorintele.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-6225090545322187221?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/6225090545322187221/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=6225090545322187221&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6225090545322187221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6225090545322187221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/04/imi-doresc.html' title='Imi doresc'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5625423485962328426</id><published>2011-03-21T00:22:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T00:32:49.072+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Endless</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5pMH43Q16W0/TYaAQMAz_jI/AAAAAAAAAmE/GH259diLVBg/s1600/allen_movies_one_best.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 344px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5pMH43Q16W0/TYaAQMAz_jI/AAAAAAAAAmE/GH259diLVBg/s400/allen_movies_one_best.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586293403390574130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore to love is to suffer, not to love is to suffer. To suffer is to sufer. To be happy is to love. To be happy then is to suffer. But suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be unhappy one must love, or love to suffer, or suffer from too much happiness. I hope your're getting this down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;- Woody Allen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5625423485962328426?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5625423485962328426/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5625423485962328426&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5625423485962328426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5625423485962328426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/03/endless.html' title='Endless'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5pMH43Q16W0/TYaAQMAz_jI/AAAAAAAAAmE/GH259diLVBg/s72-c/allen_movies_one_best.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5790576686783639513</id><published>2011-02-22T22:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T22:22:00.464+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Viitorul unei amintiri excelente</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/CSYrKGRaf9A?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5790576686783639513?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5790576686783639513/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5790576686783639513&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5790576686783639513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5790576686783639513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/02/viitorul-unei-amintiri-excelente.html' title='Viitorul unei amintiri excelente'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/CSYrKGRaf9A/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4394875363685005861</id><published>2011-02-01T00:15:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T00:20:43.518+02:00</updated><title type='text'>These are the moments in my life that I seek</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" width="300" height="198" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0bmFl0seKII?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(160, 82, 45); -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(160, 82, 45); -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(160, 82, 45); -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Why must you shed such tender tears&lt;br /&gt;In the evening of your years&lt;br /&gt;No other love could stem the tide&lt;br /&gt;Of the loneliness I hide&lt;br /&gt;Open your heart and let me live&lt;br /&gt;All the promises I could give&lt;br /&gt;The sun and moon and all the stars&lt;br /&gt;They bow down to you whenever you pass&lt;br /&gt;In a world of fading sadness&lt;br /&gt;An emerald ring, a photograph&lt;br /&gt;That look in your eyes the brush of your cheek&lt;br /&gt;These are the moments in life that I seek&lt;br /&gt;No reason or rhyme, no presence of mind&lt;br /&gt;Just a dance to the music of time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(160, 82, 45); -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why must you shed such tender tears&lt;br /&gt;In the evening of your years&lt;br /&gt;No other love could stem the tide&lt;br /&gt;Of the loneliness I hide&lt;br /&gt;Inside out, upside down&lt;br /&gt;Obscured by clouds, or underground&lt;br /&gt;The sun and moon and all the stars&lt;br /&gt;They bow down to you whenever you pass&lt;br /&gt;Wherever you are, whenever you speak&lt;br /&gt;These are the moments in my life that I seek&lt;br /&gt;No reason or rhyme, by chance or design&lt;br /&gt;Just a dance to the music of time&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/4033569166275896948-4394875363685005861?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4394875363685005861/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4394875363685005861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4394875363685005861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4394875363685005861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/02/these-are-moments-in-my-life-that-i.html' title='These are the moments in my life that I seek'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/0bmFl0seKII/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-3397595572487280292</id><published>2011-01-28T00:11:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T00:19:08.248+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Nebuloasa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TUHuw1w_r-I/AAAAAAAAAlc/tAVE8y6XNMU/s1600/nebula.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 382px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TUHuw1w_r-I/AAAAAAAAAlc/tAVE8y6XNMU/s400/nebula.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566993137240354786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Am o mie de motive să sar într-un picior de bucurie, am o mie de motive să mă întristez. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; "&gt;Nu săpa prea adânc, îţi zic,&lt;br /&gt;nu &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; "&gt;săpa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; "&gt;prea adânc, nu săpa,&lt;br /&gt;că o să dai de cer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; "&gt;că o să dai de cer&lt;br /&gt;de alt cer, de alte stele,îţi zic,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; "&gt;de alt cer, de alte stele&lt;br /&gt;şi acolo între ele&lt;br /&gt;de alt pământ, de alt pământ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; "&gt;(Către fântânar,  N. Stănescu)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-3397595572487280292?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/3397595572487280292/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=3397595572487280292&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3397595572487280292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3397595572487280292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/01/nebuloasa.html' title='Nebuloasa'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TUHuw1w_r-I/AAAAAAAAAlc/tAVE8y6XNMU/s72-c/nebula.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-2490081842624711307</id><published>2011-01-26T03:39:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T04:25:38.641+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ma enerveaza</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Că:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ne transformam vietile intr-o cursa aparent nebuna si mai degraba monotona catre idei de succes care nu sunt ale noaste.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Oamenii amana pana la uitare sa spuna cuiva ceea ce gandesc si sa actioneze ca atare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ne lasam foarte usor pacaliti de impostori care fac bani grei valorificand nevoile oamenilor de astazi: eliberarea de stres, evadarea fie si temporara din cotidian, iluminarea spirituala si filozofica. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Valul asta spiritualo-esoteric mixat cu "revolutia energetica din 2012-2013" cuprinde pe toata lumea. Imi place Oreste, e interesant sa te documentezi constant, dar in mare cred ca ne cacam pe noi si habar n-avem despre ce vorbim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Exista mai mereu tendinta ca prostia sa acopere tentativele de inedit si inteligenta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Avem impresia ca vom gasi la altii sau scrisa pe undeva formula magica si reteta pentru fericire. E mai simplu asa! Sa fie o metoda si un plan pentru orice vrem sa obtinem! Atat putem intelege in limitarea noastra umana: Sa gandim pozitiv! - Teoria autosugestiei pe care mi-o citatea mama in clasa 4-a din cartile unui contraspion roman este marea "revelatie" a zilelor noastre!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ne agatam de false repere si nu mai credem in succesul onorabil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ne lasam condusi si subordonati de oameni mai prosti ca noi pentru ca asta e varianta cea mai sigura (aparent)  si facila.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ne ascundem, in loc sa confruntam demn persoane ori situatii.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Prea putini oameni sunt exigenti cu ei insisi si aleg sa se complaca in situatii neplacute/neonorante.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu mai credem unii in altii, o generatie in cealalta. Ne judecam, ne etichetam si speram hain si egoist ca noi vom ajunge mai bine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Suntem lasi si nu indraznim sa cerem ce ni se cuvine sau sa recunoastem ceea ce gresim. Ne complacem la gandul "ca se poate mai rau" si visam intr-un registru glumet la ce-am putea obtine cand.... se alinieaza stelele.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ne place sa fim pupati in fund, sa ni se dea dreptate si daca se poate sa avem o mica statuie pentru toate realizarile noastre indiferent de anvergura.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ne inscriem ca turmele la facultati.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ne incriem ca turmele in trenduri necreative de distractie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Plecam din tara, fugind DE ceva nu CATRE ceva.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mult prea putinor oameni le pasa de procesul de invatare al cuiva, de educatie si calitatea ei, si mai grav, nu le pasa celor care sunt implicati profesional in domeniu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sunt prea multi firfizoni superficiali si semidocti cu aere de intelectuali.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Suntem "buni" doar la  ocazii si ne gandim de doua ori daca sa ne ajutam intre noi fara a cere nimic in schimb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ne luam unii dupa altii si intram in competitii stupide, neconstructive si egocentriste.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Facem prea putine lucruri care nu sunt in interesul si folosul propriu, ci in al altora mai defavorizati sau al societatii.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sunt oameni corupti la toate nivelurile si in toate domeniile. (Stiu, stiu.. eu si Vadim o sa ne facem un tricou!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Suntem egoisti si vrem bani multi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Prea putini mai lupta (si zic LUPTA) pentru ceva, o cauza (morala/etica/sociala/politica/etc), orice cu efect pozitiv/util.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Uneori astept prea multa implicare si sentimente de la oamenii apropiati mie si deci e vina mea ca ma simt singura.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mi-e dor si ma consum.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nu mai sunt poetica si nu fac lucuri simple si frumoase.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Am crezut "ca ma fac eu mare" si voi invinge toate nedreptatile, dar parca mi-e mai greu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-2490081842624711307?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/2490081842624711307/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=2490081842624711307&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2490081842624711307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2490081842624711307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/01/ma-enerveaza.html' title='Ma enerveaza'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7921020435746524322</id><published>2011-01-26T03:25:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T03:38:28.956+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TT96ZN0hFvI/AAAAAAAAAlU/-JTOhyeK-2Y/s1600/divin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TT96ZN0hFvI/AAAAAAAAAlU/-JTOhyeK-2Y/s400/divin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566302238078473970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suntem prea plini de noi ca să mai fie loc pentru ceva pur și divin, dar despre asta a scris deja Țuțea: "Să te autodispreţuieşti zilnic, pentru ca în golul lăsat în tine să poată intra Dumnezeu."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ne agățăm de vise, în loc să luptăm pentru ele, dar despre asta și Freud zicea: "Omului îi trebuie un vis ca să suporte realitatea".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7921020435746524322?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/7921020435746524322/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=7921020435746524322&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7921020435746524322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7921020435746524322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/01/suntem-prea-plini-de-noi-ca-sa-mai-fie.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TT96ZN0hFvI/AAAAAAAAAlU/-JTOhyeK-2Y/s72-c/divin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-8871316712559158587</id><published>2011-01-16T21:54:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T21:59:27.630+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scenariu scurt'/><title type='text'>Fairy-ta-le</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNNi3qhx8I/AAAAAAAAAks/wGrLFY1K0XU/s1600/hug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 363px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNNi3qhx8I/AAAAAAAAAks/wGrLFY1K0XU/s400/hug.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562875226185910210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many times upon a time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was a man who loved a woman.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many times upon a time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was a woman who loved a man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many times upon a time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was a man and there was a woman&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who did not love the ones who loved them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once upon a time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps only once&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A man and a woman who loved each other.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://yama-bato.tumblr.com/"&gt;Robert Desnos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-8871316712559158587?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/8871316712559158587/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=8871316712559158587&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8871316712559158587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8871316712559158587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/01/fairy-tale.html' title='Fairy-ta-le'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNNi3qhx8I/AAAAAAAAAks/wGrLFY1K0XU/s72-c/hug.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-1296435958141216355</id><published>2011-01-12T19:36:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T19:40:10.541+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Never forget</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TS3nFsH_eXI/AAAAAAAAAkk/_FV_5Thmb9s/s1600/Never%2BForget.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TS3nFsH_eXI/AAAAAAAAAkk/_FV_5Thmb9s/s400/Never%2BForget.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561355199802472818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-1296435958141216355?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/1296435958141216355/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=1296435958141216355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1296435958141216355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1296435958141216355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2011/01/never-forget.html' title='Never forget'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TS3nFsH_eXI/AAAAAAAAAkk/_FV_5Thmb9s/s72-c/Never%2BForget.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4532004794363710126</id><published>2010-12-29T23:22:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T23:23:52.765+02:00</updated><title type='text'>T de la duiosie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Cum o fi sa ma adori dinainte sa fiu, sa ma cunosti de cand eu nici amintiri nu am? Cum o fi sa simti durerile mele ca si cum ar fi ale tale? Cum o fi sa ajungi in etapa in care eu sa fiu principalul motiv pentru care traiesti? Cum o fi sa ma vezi dorindu-mi sa plec? Cum se simte cand inchid prea des usa de la camera si de la sufletul meu? Cum pot eu sa cuprind si sa pretind ca as putea vreodata intelege toate astea? Ma simt coplesita si neputincioasa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-4532004794363710126?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4532004794363710126/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4532004794363710126&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4532004794363710126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4532004794363710126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/12/t-de-la-duiosie.html' title='T de la duiosie'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-2685337784454452267</id><published>2010-12-23T22:58:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T23:03:17.648+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mica bucată de suflet divin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TRO4xnjldJI/AAAAAAAAAkY/gJxFy71KIWw/s1600/maini.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 399px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TRO4xnjldJI/AAAAAAAAAkY/gJxFy71KIWw/s400/maini.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553985928049292434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;Mă răsucesc în Dumnezeu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;de Jovan Zivlak&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;şed în dumnezeu între aparatele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;domnului. la masa domnului înconjurat de&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;maşinile lui. de vocile şi foşnetele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;îngerilor nedesluşiţi. în pântecele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;divin cu un ţel divin. tot ce este&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;de nespus este de nesupus şi nu persistă&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;în amăgitoarea oglindă. mica bucată&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;de suflet divin din mine se foieşte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;neliniştită pe cuprinderile domnului&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;între chipurile domnului&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;în faţa iubirii domnului&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;în faţa păcatelor domnului.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;mă gândesc la pârjolul divin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;la anarhia divină&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;la mânia divină. fraţii domnului&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;ostatecii domnului în moarte îi văd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;în dreptatea domnului îi ajunge pierzania&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;ferocitatea domnului&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;şi crima divină e pe chipurile lor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;pârjolite. îmi rotesc ochii în cuvântarea divină&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;în lâncezeala divină&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;în teama divină&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;să nu rămân singur în domnul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;în măreţia lui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;în nemărginirea lui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;răstignirea divină rosteşte vorbe divine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;izbăveşte capul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;izbăveşte curăţia divină&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;întăreşte rătăcirea divină&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;încoronează tristeţea divină.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;mă răsucesc în domnul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;să văd de unde zboară capetele domnului&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;de unde năboieşte nimicul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;şi nu le pot da de capăt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;Traducere din limba sârbă de Ioan Radin Peianov &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;em style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;em style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;de la klara inczek&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-2685337784454452267?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/2685337784454452267/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=2685337784454452267&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2685337784454452267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2685337784454452267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/12/mica-bucata-de-suflet-divin.html' title='Mica bucată de suflet divin'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TRO4xnjldJI/AAAAAAAAAkY/gJxFy71KIWw/s72-c/maini.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5322774085402436709</id><published>2010-12-16T19:57:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T19:59:29.628+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TQpTYTouUYI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/AcBfpWSD1IU/s1600/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TQpTYTouUYI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/AcBfpWSD1IU/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551341167740604802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E ca atunci cand nu te resemnezi, ci dincontra mai mult te inversunezi, insa te cuprinde asa o linisite si o vehementa in legatura cu un subiect care pana atunci nu-ti dadea pace. Sunt momente in viata care te invata sa spui STOP, gata, indeajuns, sa consideri ca un anumit om nici nu mai exista si ca anumite lucruri nici nu s-au intamplat. Dai delete, iti blochezi orice gand si mergi mai departe, pentru ca ti s-a demonstrat de atatea ori ca orice ar fi, trebuie sa mergi inainte. Daca te opresti sa refaci din cioburi ceva ce e facut tandari, mai multe te intepi si te enervezi ca nu mai gasesti exact locul fiecarei bucatele, si apoi oglindirea va fi una fragmentata si hidoasa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am ajuns sa cred ca daca iti dezvolti abilitatea asta de merge mai departe fara sa priveti prea mult in urma devi un om puternic, sau poate pur si simplu inveti sa traiesti respectandu-ti viata si implicit pe tine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5322774085402436709?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5322774085402436709/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5322774085402436709&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5322774085402436709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5322774085402436709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/12/e-ca-atunci-cand-nu-te-resemnezi-ci.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TQpTYTouUYI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/AcBfpWSD1IU/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-9045362017304487298</id><published>2010-10-31T15:59:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T16:13:36.963+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TM12v2b174I/AAAAAAAAAkI/PsNRfXLn0IU/s1600/pray.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 397px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TM12v2b174I/AAAAAAAAAkI/PsNRfXLn0IU/s400/pray.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534210081546432386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I rather love a man with many sins than to like one that represses them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-9045362017304487298?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/9045362017304487298/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=9045362017304487298&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/9045362017304487298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/9045362017304487298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/10/i.html' title='I'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TM12v2b174I/AAAAAAAAAkI/PsNRfXLn0IU/s72-c/pray.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-849709184447319353</id><published>2010-10-03T15:28:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T15:33:01.006+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TKh3aZjnduI/AAAAAAAAAjs/6Gci5JKOQAI/s1600/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TKh3aZjnduI/AAAAAAAAAjs/6Gci5JKOQAI/s320/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523796238390490850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 11px; "&gt;We text as we eat&lt;br /&gt;As we listen to the freaks&lt;br /&gt;As we wait for the right of way&lt;br /&gt;We text as we talk&lt;br /&gt;We're running as we walk&lt;br /&gt;Cos we surf our little souls away&lt;br /&gt;We smoke as we choke&lt;br /&gt;As we sink another Coke&lt;br /&gt;And we grin when it blows our mind&lt;br /&gt;We skate as we date&lt;br /&gt;As we slowly suffocate&lt;br /&gt;We're running, we're running, we're running&lt;br /&gt;Out of time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spend as we lend&lt;br /&gt;Cos we're happy to pretend&lt;br /&gt;Everything's gonna be OK&lt;br /&gt;We shake as we break&lt;br /&gt;Never give until we take&lt;br /&gt;And we hate when we have to pay&lt;br /&gt;We flirt while we work&lt;br /&gt;To forget about the hurt&lt;br /&gt;And the trash that we left behind&lt;br /&gt;We sink as we swim&lt;br /&gt;The ice is wearing thin&lt;br /&gt;We're running, we're running, we're running&lt;br /&gt;Out of time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 11px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 11px; "&gt;My life got cold&lt;br /&gt;It happened many years ago&lt;br /&gt;When summer slipped away&lt;br /&gt;So chill now whoa&lt;br /&gt;We've gotten many years to go&lt;br /&gt;So take it day by day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And long ago&lt;br /&gt;I lost my soul&lt;br /&gt;To some forgotten dream and&lt;br /&gt;How was I supposed to know&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't what it seemed&lt;br /&gt;And even though the last hello&lt;br /&gt;Has left me on the floor&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe in Romeos or heroes anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="33"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/EduardLupu/7d32c659ab2f6b.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=EduardLupu&amp;amp;hash=7d32c659ab2f6b&amp;amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/EduardLupu/7d32c659ab2f6b.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=EduardLupu&amp;amp;hash=7d32c659ab2f6b&amp;amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/diverse" title="diverse"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-849709184447319353?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/849709184447319353/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=849709184447319353&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/849709184447319353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/849709184447319353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/10/out-of.html' title='Out of...'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TKh3aZjnduI/AAAAAAAAAjs/6Gci5JKOQAI/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4801934535260146098</id><published>2010-09-30T00:24:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T00:30:02.925+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunt impotriva santajului emotional!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TKOvlGIe8hI/AAAAAAAAAjk/8xH6hKt9zSA/s1600/tumblr_l3t2mbxXvo1qahkcjo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TKOvlGIe8hI/AAAAAAAAAjk/8xH6hKt9zSA/s320/tumblr_l3t2mbxXvo1qahkcjo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522450619922575890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What are we now but voices&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;who promise each other &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a life neither one can deliver&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;not for lack of wanting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but wanting can’t make it so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We hang from a vine &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;at the cliff’s edge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are tigers above&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and below. Let us love &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;one another and let go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-4801934535260146098?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4801934535260146098/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4801934535260146098&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4801934535260146098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4801934535260146098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/09/sunt-impotriva-santajului-emotional.html' title='Sunt impotriva santajului emotional!'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TKOvlGIe8hI/AAAAAAAAAjk/8xH6hKt9zSA/s72-c/tumblr_l3t2mbxXvo1qahkcjo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-371643371235693620</id><published>2010-08-22T23:46:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T23:49:41.588+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/THGNQ9qTv0I/AAAAAAAAAis/PPR26HzrnkI/s1600/pozaaaaaaaaa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/THGNQ9qTv0I/AAAAAAAAAis/PPR26HzrnkI/s400/pozaaaaaaaaa.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508339141820268354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;"God is the perfect poet, who in his person acts his own creations."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One of the most widespread superstitions is that every man has his own special definite qualities: that he is kind, cruel, wise, stupid, energetic, apathetic, and so on. Men are not like that. We may say of a man that he is more often kind than cruel, more often wise than stupid, more often energetic than apathetic, or the reverse; but it would not be true to say of one man that he is kind and wise, of another that he is bad and stupid. And yet we always classify mankind in this way. And this is false. Men are like rivers: the water is the same in one and all; but every river is narrow here, more rapid there, here slower, there broader, now clear, now dull, now cold, now warm. It is the same with men. Every man bears in himself the germs of every human quality; but sometimes one quality manifests itself, sometimes another, and the man often becomes unlike himself, while still remaining the same man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leo Tolstoy in &lt;b&gt;Resurrection&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more dangerous to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-371643371235693620?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/371643371235693620/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=371643371235693620&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/371643371235693620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/371643371235693620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/08/why-do-you-sit-there-looking-like.html' title='Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/THGNQ9qTv0I/AAAAAAAAAis/PPR26HzrnkI/s72-c/pozaaaaaaaaa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-494347273938963857</id><published>2010-07-27T00:09:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T02:20:23.624+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Aiureli</title><content type='html'>Poate ca sunt Woody Allen like sau poate ca sunt ciudata si atat, dar am ajuns si eu sa cred ca iubirile neimplinite sunt cele mai frumoase. Acum, nu ma pot vedea imbatranind alaturi de nimeni, chiar dimpotriva, ma sperie gandul asta. Adica, gata, asta-i tot? Ai gasit un Gigel de care-ti place, care ti-a dat fluturasi la inceput si apoi decizi ca asa e mai stabil si bine, sa ramana el, moment din care incepi sa-ti faci toate planurile in doi? Suna foarte egoist, sau poate ca privesc lucrurile prea sincer si franc si zic ce zic, tocmai pentru ca ma feresc de egoism.&lt;div&gt;Cred ca ma preocupa intensitatea vietii distribuita pe desfasurarea ei si ma lupt cu proprii demoni si cu sabloanele societatii. Ma chinui sa MA ascult in tot acest zgomot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cateodata am impresia ca-mi plac doar momentele alea de la inceput cand te indoiesti, cand te consumi, cand incepi sa te indragostesti. Da, se transforma senimentele zice majoritatea si o accepta ca pe o normalitate. Fiecare cred are felul sau de a-si acorda intensitatea sunetelor din interorul sau. Poate ca doar sunt diverse tipologii de oameni, poate ca toti la moment dat ne gandim la lucrurile astea...habar n-am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si mai cred ca treaba asta cu iubirea e ceva mai mult decat efectiv o "jumatate", cred ca e ceva ce nu pot defini si ca sunt penibila in incercarea mea de a o face, dar stiu ca simt ca trebuie sa ma pregatesc sufleteste si spiritual. Si nu e vorba decat despre maturizare. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sper sa nu ma transform doar intr-un colectionar de stari si nici sa nu-mi creez false convingeri precum cea cu care am inceput articolul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RiF-ha8z464&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RiF-ha8z464&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-494347273938963857?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/494347273938963857/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=494347273938963857&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/494347273938963857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/494347273938963857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/07/aiureli.html' title='Aiureli'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-187973036462007058</id><published>2010-06-27T22:16:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T22:28:30.418+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Carnetelul cu Winnie the Pooh</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TC49vgBAQSI/AAAAAAAAAik/GpyrTCCiloY/s1600/pooh_bear_and_tiger-1130.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 321px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TC49vgBAQSI/AAAAAAAAAik/GpyrTCCiloY/s400/pooh_bear_and_tiger-1130.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489392882068504866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Imi cautam un carnetel micut pe care sa-l port la mine sa mai notez una-alta si am gasit un carntel atat de frumos cu Winnie the Pooh. Stiu si de la cine l-am primit cadou. N-am scris decat cateva pagini in el, dar m-am induiosat cand am gasit si o poezioara siropoasa scrisa de mine din nu mai stiu ce motive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Pe prima pagina erau cateva versuri din "The scientist, Coldplay":&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I was just guessin’,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;At numbers and figures,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Pullin’ the puzzles apart..&lt;br /&gt;Questions of science, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Science and progress, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Do not speak as loud as my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Come back to haunt me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Oh and I rush to the start &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Runnin' in circles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Chasin our tails&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Comin' back as we are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Pe a doua pagina era un citat din D.H Lawrence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Cei care cauta dragostea nu-si gasesc decat propria nedragoste. Nedragostea insa nu gaseste nicicand dragoste; o gasesc doar cei care iubesc, iar acestia nu trebuie s-o caute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Si ta-na-na...pe cea de-a treia pagina si ultima scrisa din carnet, urmatoarele versuri pline de simtamant:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Te-am cautat in altii&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Si te-am pierdut in mine,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Renunt acum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Cautarea nu-mi mai vine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Te-am cautat in altii&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Dar m-am gasit pe mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Surprinzator ca n-am stiut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Cum eu intotdeauna&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Te-am avut...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Hai ca m-am facut de ras!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Cred despre mine ca am un romantisim mai sofisticat, dar imbratisez cu drag regasirile astea cu mine din trecut, si-mi dau seama ca maturitatea emotionala e un lucru tare ciudat si ca nu mereu e de dorit. Nu stiu daca ma reprezinta dar nici nu vreau sa neg aceste manifestari ale mele. Dincolo de asta, cred ca eram indragostita sau ceva. Poate ca inca mai sunt si nu stiu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Am sa port carnetelul cu Winnie the Pooh la mine, oricum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-187973036462007058?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/187973036462007058/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=187973036462007058&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/187973036462007058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/187973036462007058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/06/carnetelul-cu-winnie-pooh_27.html' title='Carnetelul cu Winnie the Pooh'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TC49vgBAQSI/AAAAAAAAAik/GpyrTCCiloY/s72-c/pooh_bear_and_tiger-1130.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-6284306991988982456</id><published>2010-06-22T23:28:00.017+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T00:43:54.619+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sensul concret al bunatatii?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Astazi mi s-a (re)deschis in subconstient problematica ideii de a fi bun. Oamenii care fac ceva ce conteaza. Dar oare nu totul conteaza? Sau... nimic nu conteaza pana la urma? Sau, cum mai ziceam eu: totul=nimic?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;De ce conditionam bunatatea de fapte altruiste si de investirea unei cantitati mari de timp si interes in directiile acestea? Si de ce atunci cand ajungem sa facem totusi ceva bun, incepem sa ne suspectam imediat de egoism si de nevoia de a fi impacat cu egoul propriu? Ideea compensarii, ideea ca "avem pe lumea cealalta", sau ideea ca in timpul vietii se va intarce asupra noastra in mod pozitiv fapta buna savarsita - ne motivam, ne santajam emotional.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Iarasi observ ca ajung la ideea de a vibra pur si simplu, de a simti ca vrei sa ajuti din adancul sufeltului - un sentiment mai presus de mila, mai nobil decat generozitatea, mai sincer decat altruismul, atat de autentic incat sa nu necesite justificari nici in fata propriei persoane nici in fata altora. Un sentiment care sa te miste direct proportional cu intesnsitatea lui: fie doar un gest, un gand, fie cariera ta, fie timpul tau liber, fie viata ta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Eu simtit ca trebuie sa ma organizez:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hint:&lt;b&gt; Devino volutar, alfla, invata , daruieste din tine, actioneaza!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Daca ai venituri, fa-ti un "give-back budget" pe care il poti folosi asa:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;1. " Adopta" un hectar din padurea tropicala!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEpu6eTkCI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/nlosfkH8UsE/s1600/brazil-amazon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEpu6eTkCI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/nlosfkH8UsE/s320/brazil-amazon.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485711707061063714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://adopt.nature.org/"&gt;http://adopt.nature.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;2.  Microfinanteaza femeile antrepnor din tarile defavorizate cumparand produsele lor!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEon4EmTWI/AAAAAAAAAiI/qPn2SR_JpiM/s1600/india.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEon4EmTWI/AAAAAAAAAiI/qPn2SR_JpiM/s320/india.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485710486645656930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.buildanest.com/index2.asp"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.buildanest.com/index2.asp"&gt;http://www.buildanest.com/index2.asp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Cumpara o capra pentru o familie din Bangladesh sau Sudan!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEnenzR4cI/AAAAAAAAAiA/zYcNp5vmL5o/s1600/capra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEnenzR4cI/AAAAAAAAAiA/zYcNp5vmL5o/s320/capra.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485709228147597762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.practicalpresents.org/view_product.php?product_id=3"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.practicalpresents.org/view_product.php?product_id=3"&gt;http://www.practicalpresents.org/view_product.php?product_id=3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;4.  Educa un copil din Africa!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEmIwI8hhI/AAAAAAAAAh4/bm00RhSkGNw/s1600/SouthAfrica_685x457px.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEmIwI8hhI/AAAAAAAAAh4/bm00RhSkGNw/s320/SouthAfrica_685x457px.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485707752917206546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://projectdiaspora.org/2009/03/24/educate-a-child-and-you-have-educated-a-nation/"&gt;http://projectdiaspora.org/2009/03/24/educate-a-child-and-you-have-educated-a-nation/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. Fa un imprumut pentru un start-up in tarile in curs de dezvoltare prin programul KIVA!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCElfuhJYlI/AAAAAAAAAho/4vkcH21LhvA/s1600/kiva_logo.ashx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCElfuhJYlI/AAAAAAAAAho/4vkcH21LhvA/s200/kiva_logo.ashx.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485707048107205202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kiva.org/"&gt;http://www.kiva.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;6. Contribuie la plata doctorilor sau a personalului vital prin Christian Aid!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEk9M3ONJI/AAAAAAAAAhY/sWRqUPCWc-I/s1600/Doctor_House.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEk9M3ONJI/AAAAAAAAAhY/sWRqUPCWc-I/s320/Doctor_House.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485706454957438098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.presentaid.org/"&gt;http://www.presentaid.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;7. Adopta un animal in pericol de disparitie.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEkkbBcK-I/AAAAAAAAAhQ/z0BR7aw7yQs/s1600/panda0106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 220px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEkkbBcK-I/AAAAAAAAAhQ/z0BR7aw7yQs/s320/panda0106.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485706029261663202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://support.wwf.org.uk/index.php?page=shop&amp;amp;cid=2"&gt;http://support.wwf.org.uk/index.php?page=shop&amp;amp;cid=2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/4033569166275896948-6284306991988982456?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/6284306991988982456/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=6284306991988982456&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6284306991988982456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6284306991988982456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/06/sensul-concret-al-bunatatii_22.html' title='Sensul concret al bunatatii?'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TCEpu6eTkCI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/nlosfkH8UsE/s72-c/brazil-amazon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-2859429336748244648</id><published>2010-06-04T19:59:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T20:31:03.487+03:00</updated><title type='text'>The tragedy of loving</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TAk1gjCz4tI/AAAAAAAAAhA/sUUmhTq_VlM/s1600/tumblr_kx805afTlB1qz6f4bo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TAk1gjCz4tI/AAAAAAAAAhA/sUUmhTq_VlM/s400/tumblr_kx805afTlB1qz6f4bo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478969254952035026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It's the tragedy of loving, you can't love anything more than something you miss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;If there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it walls, and we will furnish it with soft, red interiors, from the inside out, and give it a knocker that resonates like a diamond falling to a jeweller's felt so that we should never hear it. Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;She wants to know if I love her, that's all anyone wants from anyone else, not love itself but the knowledge that love is there, like new batteries in the flashlight in the emergency kit in the hall closet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: small; line-height: 18px; "&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: small; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; "&gt;Being with him made my brain quiet. I didn't have to invent a thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; "&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Why do beautiful songs make you sad?' 'Because they aren't true.' 'Never?' 'Nothing is beautiful and true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia, serif;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;.. I'm so afraid of losing something I love that I refuse to love anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-2859429336748244648?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/2859429336748244648/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=2859429336748244648&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2859429336748244648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2859429336748244648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/06/tragedy-of-loving.html' title='The tragedy of loving'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TAk1gjCz4tI/AAAAAAAAAhA/sUUmhTq_VlM/s72-c/tumblr_kx805afTlB1qz6f4bo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7131611428234952979</id><published>2010-06-01T01:40:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T02:11:55.628+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Copile nu fi prost&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In drumul catre nicaieri o poti lua pe unde vrei. E plina lumea de visatori care ar scoate banii din ecuatiile care le dau de cele mai multe ori cu minus. Privirea lor e resemnata de prezent si inflacarata de un viitor iluzoriu. Si daca ne-am lua de mana toti, am mai vrea sa ajungem undeva sau ne-ar fi suficient? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cand ai crize existentiale dese e bine sa le imbratisezi ca pe copiii tai.  Si sa razi. Da, cel mai curoajos si mai benefic lucru asta este. Dar sa razi tare si sa plangi tare si te arunci in viata ca de pe-o stanca si sa cazi liber liber si-apoi sa ajungi sa zbori...sau macar sa plutesti un moment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Daca te concetrezi prea mult sa-ti contolozi fericirea, sa te autosugestionezi, sa gandesti pozitiv si sa-i citesti pe oamenii aia cu dintii albi, cred ai pierdut ideea. Te autodresezi ca si cainele lui Pavlov.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu nu vreau butoane de turn happy, fuck them!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sufletul nu e facut pentru a fi previzibil. Iar mintea.... we have no idea!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am sa gasesc candva acel "nu stiu" de acum si apoi ma voi indrepta catre urmatorul. Prezentul de acum e "nu stiu"ul de ieri, asa e cel mai onest. Prefabricam totul planificand studii si obiective cuprinsi de frica...nesigurantei. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Human being not human doing, Just be!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7131611428234952979?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/7131611428234952979/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=7131611428234952979&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7131611428234952979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7131611428234952979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/06/copile-nu-fi-prost-in-drumul-catre.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4604729080233410122</id><published>2010-05-19T00:16:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T00:22:55.123+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pierrot le fou</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;-  Why do you look so sad?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-  Because you speak to me in words and I look at you with feelings. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- You never have ideas, only feelings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S_MD78Jmf8I/AAAAAAAAAg4/1x2KqJW282Q/s1600/tumblr_l2ldvmVp9b1qzoly9o1_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S_MD78Jmf8I/AAAAAAAAAg4/1x2KqJW282Q/s400/tumblr_l2ldvmVp9b1qzoly9o1_400.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472722300478848962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-4604729080233410122?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4604729080233410122/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4604729080233410122&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4604729080233410122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4604729080233410122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/05/pierrot-le-fou.html' title='Pierrot le fou'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S_MD78Jmf8I/AAAAAAAAAg4/1x2KqJW282Q/s72-c/tumblr_l2ldvmVp9b1qzoly9o1_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-1497459231749891071</id><published>2010-05-05T22:51:00.008+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T14:43:51.867+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S-HUKWnpOSI/AAAAAAAAAgw/JzwYl8TJen8/s1600/tumblr_kzn0dt6oao1qaprm6o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S-HUKWnpOSI/AAAAAAAAAgw/JzwYl8TJen8/s400/tumblr_kzn0dt6oao1qaprm6o1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467884696940132642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basically I'm complicated, I have a hard time taking the easy way. I wouldn't call it schizophrenia, but I'll be at least 2 people today, if that's okay!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's deep how you can be so shallow and I'm afraid cause I have no fear. And I didn't believe in magic...until I watched you disappear. I wish you where here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see, everybody is somebody, but nobody wants to be themselves, and if I ever wanted to understand me I'll have to talk to someone else. Cause every little bit helps&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feels like... the surreal life, but it's still nice...wish I could live twice, but I still might if these bones heal right. I see a little light though it's still night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;comments will be off from now on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&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/4033569166275896948-1497459231749891071?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1497459231749891071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1497459231749891071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/05/basically-im-complicated-i-have-hard_05.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S-HUKWnpOSI/AAAAAAAAAgw/JzwYl8TJen8/s72-c/tumblr_kzn0dt6oao1qaprm6o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-330680686429903421</id><published>2010-05-02T23:44:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T23:47:46.210+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Meta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S93kiRmWzAI/AAAAAAAAAgg/HC72WzsrP-4/s1600/4439093685_8dba70af7e_b+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 186px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S93kiRmWzAI/AAAAAAAAAgg/HC72WzsrP-4/s320/4439093685_8dba70af7e_b+(1).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466776800188615682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In the change from being a caterpillar to becoming a butterfly, you’re nothing more than a yellow, gooey sticky mess. Change and personal growth is all about discovering the inevitability of change and the need for one to clarify a vision of the future. We need to deal with the gooey glob that most people find uncomfortable.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you have to metamorphose in order to change and that will involve going through the discomfort of being less and less a caterpillar while you are in the process of becoming a butterfly. Expect the transformation process to be somewhat uncomfortable and note that it takes some level of commitment. A key is understanding the process and perception of the realities of the change.&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/4033569166275896948-330680686429903421?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/330680686429903421/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=330680686429903421&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/330680686429903421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/330680686429903421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/05/meta.html' title='Meta'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S93kiRmWzAI/AAAAAAAAAgg/HC72WzsrP-4/s72-c/4439093685_8dba70af7e_b+(1).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-6369325513095973552</id><published>2010-04-17T13:11:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T13:14:34.142+03:00</updated><title type='text'>I pray every night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S8mJ-cHaPzI/AAAAAAAAAgY/VuJqBmv4Na8/s1600/tumblr_kvo2mcIe7x1qzyrwvo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S8mJ-cHaPzI/AAAAAAAAAgY/VuJqBmv4Na8/s400/tumblr_kvo2mcIe7x1qzyrwvo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461047728955604786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes in our relentless effort to find the person we love, we fail to recognize and appreciate the people who love us. We miss out on so many beautiful things simply because we allow ourselves to be enslaved by our own selfish concerns.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go for the man/woman of deeds and not for the man/woman of words, for you will find rewarding happiness, not with the man/woman you love but with the man/woman who loves you more.&lt;br /&gt;The best lovers are those capable of loving from a distance far enough to allow the person to grow but never too far to feel the love within your being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To let go of someone doesn’t mean you have to stop loving; it only means that you allow that person to find his/her own happiness without expecting him/her to come back. Letting go is not just setting the other person free, but is also setting yourself free from all the bitterness, hatred, and anger that you keep in your heart. Do not let the bitterness take away your strength and weaken your faith, and never allow pain to dishearten you; but rather let yourself grow with wisdom in bearing it.&lt;br /&gt;You may find peace in loving someone from a distance not expecting something in return. But be careful, for this can sustain life but can never give enough room for us to grow. We can all survive with just beautiful memories of the past, but real peace and happiness come only with open acceptance of what reality is today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There comes a time in our lives when we chance upon someone so nice and beautiful and we just find ourselves so intensely attracted to that person. This feeling soon becomes a part of our everyday lives and eventually consumes our thoughts and actions. The sad part of it is when we begin to realize that this person feels nothing more for us than just a friendship. We start our desperate attempt to get noticed and be closer, but in the end our efforts are still unrewarded and we end up being sorry for ourselves. You don’t have to forget someone you love. What you need to learn is how to accept the verdict of reality without being bitter or sorry for yourself. Believe me, you would be better off giving that dedication and love to someone more deserving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t let your heart run your life, be sensible and let your mind speak for itself. Listen not only to your feelings but to reason as well.&lt;br /&gt;Always remember that if you lose someone today, it means that someone better is coming tomorrow. If you lose love, that doesn’t mean you failed in love.&lt;br /&gt;Cry if you have to, but make sure that tears wash away the hurt and the bitterness that the past has left with you. Let go of yesterday and love will find its way back to you. And when it does, &lt;b&gt;pray &lt;/b&gt;that it may be the love that will stay and last a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;There are two ways to live your life:&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt; One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no mistake so painful that love cannot forgive, no past so bitter that love cannot accept, and no love so little that we cannot start all over with.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;- inspired by Albert Einstein&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;PS: Titlu alternativ neaoș - "Despre,De și Din dragoste, mânca-ți-aș!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-6369325513095973552?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/6369325513095973552/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=6369325513095973552&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6369325513095973552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6369325513095973552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-pray-every-night.html' title='I pray every night'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S8mJ-cHaPzI/AAAAAAAAAgY/VuJqBmv4Na8/s72-c/tumblr_kvo2mcIe7x1qzyrwvo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-3758905589507847036</id><published>2010-04-14T00:12:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T00:14:06.702+03:00</updated><title type='text'>1000 de cuvinte</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S8TeS1-ukVI/AAAAAAAAAgI/F8RjRNCmhG4/s1600/tumblr_l0bccmKlXC1qzoly9o1_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S8TeS1-ukVI/AAAAAAAAAgI/F8RjRNCmhG4/s400/tumblr_l0bccmKlXC1qzoly9o1_400.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459733063589073234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-3758905589507847036?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/3758905589507847036/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=3758905589507847036&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3758905589507847036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3758905589507847036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post.html' title='1000 de cuvinte'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S8TeS1-ukVI/AAAAAAAAAgI/F8RjRNCmhG4/s72-c/tumblr_l0bccmKlXC1qzoly9o1_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4519155951016496622</id><published>2010-03-30T03:23:00.007+03:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T04:10:42.408+03:00</updated><title type='text'>About you, prostie si Kafka</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S7FLmSINcwI/AAAAAAAAAf4/JhGZjtmfy8E/s1600/P9120435.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S7FLmSINcwI/AAAAAAAAAf4/JhGZjtmfy8E/s320/P9120435.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454223744795767554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Well yeah, you see it, it's obvious. The rules are so simple that you find it ridicouls to apply them. And that's grabbing right back of your ass. In fact you just reject the idea of rules and the idea of obeying, therefore you reject "obeying rules". So I guess you'll just sit and watch the show like a spectactor enjoying and "living" the show but never really get involved (like George Carlin used to say). And maybe sometimes, just for the fun of it, you'll play some parts. Or better, you get to choose the plays where you're just watching and the ones you'll act in, with your part and everything. So then, you just "pretend" you go by the rules, it'll be all part of the game, wouldn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;You see it clearly: people wear on their faces thier sufferings, their struggles, their happy moments, their hopes and dreams. Just by existing each one of them is a universe as complex and difficult to comprehend as THE Universe. They are their own result and they always have the unlimited power of imagination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;You judge pride but you can't swallow yours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;You love soo much, but it's selfish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Still, you're so frickin' amazin' and you forget that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;You cry only when your soul vibrates, never when you feel physical pain. Still you vibrate too much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;G. Liiceanu had that theory of "being stucked in the project"(incremenit in proiect) wich is the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;philosophical equivalent for "being stupid."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Then, Jose Antonio Marina translated: "Eşecul [cognitiv al] inteligenţei are loc atunci când cineva se încăpăţânează să nu recunoască un lucru evident, când nimic nu îl scoate dintr-ale sale, când o convingere e invulnerabilă în faţa criticii sau a faptelor care o contrazic, când respectivul nu învaţă din experienţe şi devine un modul blindat.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;You wish you could add a smart conclusion to this, but instead you remeber you once read this: "[..]Kafka oferă câteva dintre cheile situaţiei sale, intr-o scrisoare catre tatal său: „&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Eu eram întotdeauna acoperit de ruşine; sau îţi ascultam poruncile, şi atunci mă simţeam ruşinat, căci ele erau valabile numai pentru mine; sau mă încăpăţânam să nu le dau ascultare, ceea ce era la fel de ruşinos, căci cutezam să mă arăt încăpăţânat faţă de tine; sau nu puteam să le dau ascultare, căci de pildă eu nu aveam forţa ta, pofta ta de mâncare, îndemânarea ta, şi asta era de fapt ruşinea cea mai mare dintre toate. În felul acesta evoluau nu reflecţiile, ci simţămintele copilului care eram eu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;”. La sfârşitul scrisorii, Kafka îi dă cuvântul tatălui, care oferă un diagnostic nemilos pentru situaţia în care se află fiul său: „Tu eşti neputincios în faţa vieţii”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Nu ai sa crezi o secunda astfel de cuvinte cand le vei auzi de la tatal tau, poate din ambitie, poate pentru  ca reactionezi mereu impotriva a ce auzi, poate ca simti Inexplicabilul alauri de tine mereu si zambesti, apoi, vezi tu...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 0, 0); line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;E un spectacol de neuitat acela/ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;de-a sti,/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;de-a descoperi/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;harta universului în expansiune,/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;în timp ce-ti privesti/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;o fotografie din copilarie!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;In finalul asta de articol de blog, prechimbat pe nesimtite in limba romana, as adauga ca o cireasa amara pe un tort gretos, urmatoarele: "Gândurile sau activităţile care sunt inteligente in sine se pot dovedi stupide atunci când contextul în care se desfăşoară este stupid."&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/4033569166275896948-4519155951016496622?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4519155951016496622/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4519155951016496622&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4519155951016496622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4519155951016496622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/03/about-you-prostie-si-kafka.html' title='About you, prostie si Kafka'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S7FLmSINcwI/AAAAAAAAAf4/JhGZjtmfy8E/s72-c/P9120435.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5164718525026647783</id><published>2010-03-23T21:53:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T23:16:25.508+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S6kcoBJqr4I/AAAAAAAAAfo/1ZELJto9qtY/s1600-h/balerina.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S6kcoBJqr4I/AAAAAAAAAfo/1ZELJto9qtY/s400/balerina.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451920297738022786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Am încercat să-mi analizez starea de deprimare; felul în care creierul meu e hărţuit de conflictul interior dintre două moduri de gândire,&lt;b&gt; critică&lt;/b&gt; şi &lt;b&gt;creatoare&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;(Virginia Wolf)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5164718525026647783?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5164718525026647783/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5164718525026647783&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5164718525026647783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5164718525026647783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/03/am-incercat-sa-mi-analizez-starea-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S6kcoBJqr4I/AAAAAAAAAfo/1ZELJto9qtY/s72-c/balerina.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-574940266697561562</id><published>2010-03-12T14:36:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T23:12:42.377+02:00</updated><title type='text'>May you forgive me, I am the king of pricks</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MpnM6Lfy5Jg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MpnM6Lfy5Jg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poate ca asta e blestemul din toata binecuvantarea ce am primit-o: sa ne invartim mereu in cerc. Poate ca e ironia Creației de a da forma sferica "casei" noastre prin care oricum ne-am plimba intr-un tarziu, vom ajunge de unde am pornit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poate ca asta e cel mai evident semn sa nu ne atasam de lumea asta materiala, sa o iubim, sa o respectam, dar sa nu cautam evolutia noastra si raspunsurile aici.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-574940266697561562?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/574940266697561562/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=574940266697561562&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/574940266697561562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/574940266697561562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/03/may-you-forgive-me-i-am-king-of-pricks.html' title='May you forgive me, I am the king of pricks'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-1394242943689950472</id><published>2010-03-03T19:07:00.010+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T20:05:01.339+02:00</updated><title type='text'>(nu) Vreau să (nu) ma vrei</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Luna asta cred ca n-am nimic filozofic de spus, nici interesant, nici profund, nici macar banal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Osho e cool si am luat cate ceva de la el, dar ma intorc la Eliade, am nevoie de echilibru in drumul meu catre cunoastere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Am idei multe si creativitatea mea nu s-a imbacsit deloc, sunt multumita de asta. Expresia ei insa, nu se vede neaparat aici, cel putin nu deocamdata. Inspiratie gasesc mai in orice, cadrele scenei mi le aranjez si le provoc, dar imi vin si singure peste nas. Deci e bine, o luam mai usor. Cu o abordare mai relaxata, dar zic eu ca si inteleapta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A! Nu-mi plac fandoselile astea de primavara si urarile cu "raze in suflete" si " floricele pe campii". Comuniunea cu natura am pierdut-o si o pierdem cu fiecare deseu nereciclat si prin multe alte gesturi. Iar stereotipiile astea schimonosesc frumusetea simpla a acesui moment al naturii. As vrea sa vad manifestarii profunde si personale ale fericirii daca aceasta ne cuprinde cu adevarat si vrem s-o impartasim. Nu stim mai nimic despre traditia martisorului, despre infoloritul ghicelului, nu stam in aer liber(sa nu zic natura) mai mult de 1 ora pe zi, dar ne grabim sa ne felicitam ca a venit primavara, ca scrie in calendar! Imi place veselia si soarele, imi plac oamenii fericiti, dar ii prefer sinceri si spontani in manifestarea lor si ma enerveaza entuziasmul tamp, care are nevoie de pretexte conventionale pentru a se manifesta atat de fals si penibil dealtfel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Vreau sa plec, simt ca trebuie sa plec, poate "daca schimb locul, schimb si norocul..." desi cred pe de alta parte ca "omul sfinteste locul". Dar da, vreau sa "fac" alt loc. Si dincolo de atatea vorbe de duh... vreau povesti si secene noi de joaca. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Pana mai scriu "frumos" p-aici, un cantec vesel s-ascultam:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aquSBPS4oAU&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aquSBPS4oAU&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;PS: Nu mai stiu pe unde am citit rapid ceva: -  "Avem un drum atata timp cat pasim pe el." - pare simplu, poate ca si e...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-1394242943689950472?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/1394242943689950472/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=1394242943689950472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1394242943689950472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1394242943689950472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/03/nu-vreau-sa-nu-ma-vrei.html' title='(nu) Vreau să (nu) ma vrei'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-6185327096965079248</id><published>2010-02-15T01:22:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T01:35:34.795+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sannya - Part I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S3iG9WyWHMI/AAAAAAAAAfY/8dtAjGUBmzo/s1600-h/3817675503_a3d7fef713_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S3iG9WyWHMI/AAAAAAAAAfY/8dtAjGUBmzo/s400/3817675503_a3d7fef713_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438244938696760514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"Act as if it is real life and live as if it is acting."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Sannyas happens only to a very few, rare human beings. Love is ordinary; it happens to animals, to birds, even to trees. It is nothing special. Religion is absolutely supernatural: it surpasses your instinctive world. But our &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;hearts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; are not functioning, and the head cannot work in the place of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;the heart*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;My sannyas is spontaneity, living moment to moment without any prefabricated discipline, living with the unknown, not exactly knowing where you are going. Because if you know already where you are going you are dead. Then life runs in a mechanical way. A life should be a flow from the known towards the unknown. One should be dying each moment to the known so the unknown can penetrate you. And only the unknown liberates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Only &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;the heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; is courageous enough to take a jump into the unknown, into the unfamiliar. But with the unfamiliar open up millions of possibilities. With the unknown you start growing. With the known you go on moving in circles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Be a little &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;ful, not so thoughtful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;To me, the sannyasin is one who lives life like an actor. If someone wants to blossom in sannyas living in the thick of the world, he should cease to be a doer and become an actor, become a witness. He should live in the thick of life, play his role, and at the same time be a witness to it, but in no way should he be deeply involved in his role, be attached to it, He should cross the river in a way that his feet remain untouched by the water. It is, however, difficult to cross a river without letting the water touch your feet, but it is quite possible to live in the world without getting involved in it, without being tied to it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The two skeletons in the corner closet were grumbling about the heat, the dust, the boredom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"What are we staying here for anyhow?" one asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Damned if I know," the second skeleton answered. "I would leave in a minute if I had any guts."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;~ inspired by Osho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;*the heart- suflet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/SAC/6a876b37f10a10.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=354&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Beck%20-%20Everybody%27s%20Gotta%20Learn%20Sometimes"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/SAC/6a876b37f10a10.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=354&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Beck%20-%20Everybody%27s%20Gotta%20Learn%20Sometimes"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-6185327096965079248?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/6185327096965079248/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=6185327096965079248&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6185327096965079248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6185327096965079248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/02/sannya-part-i.html' title='Sannya - Part I'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S3iG9WyWHMI/AAAAAAAAAfY/8dtAjGUBmzo/s72-c/3817675503_a3d7fef713_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7847516210195921017</id><published>2010-02-09T14:00:00.009+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T21:05:07.407+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fata din gumilastic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S3FPGHRi6qI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/fxlBDZTEZDU/s1600-h/tumblr_kpwikuTUIk1qz9qooo1_1280.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S3FPGHRi6qI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/fxlBDZTEZDU/s400/tumblr_kpwikuTUIk1qz9qooo1_1280.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436213191663348386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Este o fata tare ciudata si simpatica in acelasi timp. Fiind din gumilastic are proprietatea de a se deforma cu mare usrinta in urma actiunii unei forte exterioare. Insa, personalitate puternica,sau poate doar plina de incapatanare, nu accepta schimbarea din partea oricarui factor extern, asa ca de cele mai multe ori revine la forma intiala. Se bazeaza mereu pe ajutorul gravitatiei, desi ea nu stie ca asa se numeste acea forta care mereu o salveaza,asa ca topaie pe unde i se pare ei mai neumblat si mai dificil. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Asemenea unui modelino, joaca cu fata de gumilastic este de cele mai multe ori distractiva. Unii modeleaza mai fin, altii trag violent de material din prima. Dupa ce incep sa se obisnuiasca,le tot vine sa stranga si sa rasucesca pentru irezistibila senzatie de a deforma un material elastic si pentru ca stiu ca nu i se intampla nimic,ca nu o doare si ca mai devreme sau mai tarziu recapata o forma normala. Dar numai ea stie cum e sa umbli cu urechile marite ca ale lui Dumbo sau nasul turtit si rosu, ca nu mai vorbim de greutatea de a se deplasa cand picioarele si mainile-s impleticite. Si alteori, deformarile nu sunt vizibile in exterior toate, doar uneori!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Fata de gumilastic cauta un loc unde sa se poata intinde cat de mult vrea ea, ar vrea ca sa inalneasca oameni care sa nu abuzeze de natura ei, ar vrea sa fie protejata uneori de deformari mai dureroase chiar daca are capacitatea de a-si reveni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Totusui, cred ca cel mai tare ar vrea sa fie iubita mult, apreciata si protejata, poate asa se va transforma intr-o fata din...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Dar pana atunci, probabil va trece mult timp sau poate ca nu va veni niciodata vremea aceea si ea se va transforma in cel mai dur gumilastic, aprope de piatra. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Intre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; timp &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;sa nu mai pierdem &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;timpul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;, zice ea, si sa mergem asa in lume topaind, ca nu-s din gumilastic degeaba, si n-am nevoie de cineva sa-mi tina geanta, sa-mi faca complimente, care sa-mi plateasca cina sau o calatorie exotica de ziua mea, care sa ma apere de frig sau de golani (o sa invat kung-fu, pe bune! tine si de cald,da!), nici de cineva care sa rada la glumele mele, sau cineva care sa-mi mangaie parul cand sta ondulat, nici cineva de care sa ma tin sa n-alunec sau cineva care sa ma astepte oricat si care sa nu se supere niciodata pe mine, nici cineva care sa-mi zica ca defapt e bine cand eu cred ca e rau, ca pot atunci cand cred nu pot, nici cineva care sa ma vrea atunci cand nimeni nu vrea, care sa-mi sa-mi asculte toate prostiile si sa creada macar pentru o clipa ca-s cea mai extraodinara fiinta de pe pamant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Stiu ca suna ca si cum nu ar vorbi serios,de parca ar face o lista de dorinte negate,ca prea le-a enumerat exact si cu patos,si pana la urma ce om normal nu si-ar dori asa ceva?; dar dimpotriva, ea nici sa se gandeste prea des la toate astea,vrea doar sa zambeasca,sa fie usoara si libera si zau ca e adevarat, fata din gumilastic chiar exista!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/elenarosca/1ef66d4e42260b.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=354&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Eddie%20Vedder%20-%20Guaranteed"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/elenarosca/1ef66d4e42260b.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=354&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Eddie%20Vedder%20-%20Guaranteed"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7847516210195921017?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/7847516210195921017/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=7847516210195921017&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7847516210195921017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7847516210195921017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/02/fata-din-gumilastic.html' title='Fata din gumilastic'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S3FPGHRi6qI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/fxlBDZTEZDU/s72-c/tumblr_kpwikuTUIk1qz9qooo1_1280.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7977841960392998521</id><published>2010-01-20T09:50:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T03:16:20.939+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Forgotten Dialect Of The Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S1ZXcntWXsI/AAAAAAAAAfA/t3hfWB3XxKE/s1600-h/Fuw9S4vo5p1ecysveDIkD4Qjo1_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 310px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S1ZXcntWXsI/AAAAAAAAAfA/t3hfWB3XxKE/s320/Fuw9S4vo5p1ecysveDIkD4Qjo1_400.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428622550048857794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;How astonishing it is that language can almost mean,and frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say,God, we say, Rome and Michiko, we write, and the words get it all wrong. We say bread and it means according to which nation. French has no word for home,and we have no word for strict pleasure. A people in northern India is dying out because their ancient tongue has no words for endearment. I dream of lost vocabularies that might express some of what we no longer can. Maybe the Etruscan texts would finally explain why the couples on their tombs are smiling. And maybe not. When the thousands of mysterious Sumerian tablets were translated,they seemed to be business records. But what if they are poems or psalms? My joy is the same as twelve Ethiopian goats standing silent in the morning light. O Lord, thou art slabs of salt and ingots of copper,as grand as ripe barley lithe under the wind’s labor.&lt;br /&gt;Her breasts are six white oxen loaded with bolts of long-fibered Egyptian cotton. My love is a hundred pitchers of honey. Shiploads of thuya are what my body wants to say to your body. Giraffes are this desire in the dark. Perhaps the spiral Minoan script is not laguage but a map. What we feel most has no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses, and birds.&lt;br /&gt;== Jack Gilbert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7977841960392998521?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/7977841960392998521/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=7977841960392998521&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7977841960392998521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7977841960392998521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/01/forgotten-dialect-of-heart.html' title='The Forgotten Dialect Of The Heart'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S1ZXcntWXsI/AAAAAAAAAfA/t3hfWB3XxKE/s72-c/Fuw9S4vo5p1ecysveDIkD4Qjo1_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-772457871663676451</id><published>2010-01-07T22:57:00.008+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T00:00:44.441+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Un copil, o Zana,o ff...nupotsazic!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S0ZMiW9EvRI/AAAAAAAAAeg/ufBUNFdXIpU/s1600-h/PC210099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S0ZMiW9EvRI/AAAAAAAAAeg/ufBUNFdXIpU/s320/PC210099.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424106954375347474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S0ZMh_SfMvI/AAAAAAAAAeY/BOR5bIi-6VQ/s1600-h/PC210098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S0ZMh_SfMvI/AAAAAAAAAeY/BOR5bIi-6VQ/s320/PC210098.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424106948022711026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Daca privesti din alta perspectiva ca in "Alice in tara minunilor", iti poti sarbatori ziua de ne-nastere in restul zilelor din an cand nu e ziua de nastere si asa ar trebui sa dai un sens nou in fiecare zi cuvantului "sarbatorire". Cred ca e intelept sa te trezesti macar din cand in cand sa-ti urezi "Happy Unbirthday!" (intr-o limba de circulatie internationala ca e mai cool). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;As vrea sa ma cuprinda starea aia sensibilicoasa si melancolica, sa trasez linii, sa fac recapitulari si planuri pentru urmatorul an, sa fac promisiuni vibrante catre mine insami, catre cei "care mi-au fost alaturi", catre viata. As  vrea ca sa scriu cuvintele alea de catifea care sa rasfete simturile, as vrea ca sensul lor sa se inconjoare in mintea cititorului ca o esarfa de matase in jurul gatului unei domnisoare....ehe si as mai avea comparatii...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Dar cum nu cred in promisiuni, eu doar indraznesc sa imi doresc, sa sper si sa actionez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Probabil ca las impresia ca nu am nevoie de afectiune si dovezi ale acesteia,dar anul asta, la 22 de ani, mi-as dori mai multa afectiune.Atat!Asta daca genul asta de dorintele se duc undeva si au o viata a lor, unele implinidu-se altele nu.Stiu ca e o dorinta de copil, de  animalut, dar ea exista.Mai stiu si principiul "ceea ce dai e ceea ce primesti", asa ca aici intervine ceea ce vreau de la mine in viitor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Pe parcurs restul lucrurilor le pot obtine si nu am sa le insir aici,eu am incredere chiar si in esecurile mele.Despre transformarile ce le doresc asupra mea, nu vorbesc acum, ar fi prea mult de scris. E plin de zane oricum,unice si la fel, e frumos asa, e bine. Eu simt ca ori sunt peste tot, ori deloc, ce stiu e ca inventez sensul "zanei" in fiecare moment si-mi place sa-l  stiu numai eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Am cautat destul, am asteptat destul, mi-am "pierdut speranta" de prea multe ori, am crezut ce nu trebuia in loc sa cred in mine,am gresit mult, m-am dus atrasa inevitabil catre imposibil, m-a durut, dar am si ras, am strans de mana oameni dragi, am primit energia lor, am crezut in zana,am gasit minuni simple si..m-am oprit de prea multe ori din scris plangand asa cum fac si acum..de coplesire asa, nici de tristete si nici de bucurie. Si nici nu mai conteaza cat dureaza un an.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Oricum, nu exista concluzie la ce scriu aici acum, e doar impartasire de stare. Apropos de asta,aud o melodie draguta acum si realizez ca are niste versuri foarte adevarate:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7ld_kGKgHRQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7ld_kGKgHRQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Vreau sa scriu o carte, nu numar in ani.Dar am sa scriu, macar una.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-772457871663676451?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/772457871663676451/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=772457871663676451&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/772457871663676451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/772457871663676451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/01/un-copil-o-zana.html' title='Un copil, o Zana,o ff...nupotsazic!'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S0ZMiW9EvRI/AAAAAAAAAeg/ufBUNFdXIpU/s72-c/PC210099.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5492141173812794548</id><published>2010-01-06T02:05:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T02:11:04.018+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S0Ul5Lqra-I/AAAAAAAAAeA/v3iiJ_xTKdA/s1600-h/butterfly-on-pink-flower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S0Ul5Lqra-I/AAAAAAAAAeA/v3iiJ_xTKdA/s400/butterfly-on-pink-flower.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423782990552198114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ei, nu stiu daca e chiar asa, dar mi-a placut ideea, e genul de idee in care cred acum. Un alt lucru pe care il invat este ca atunci cand crezi ca nu mai ai de unde sa dai si ce sa dai, atunci esti defapt cel mai in masura sa daruiesti. De obicei nu e usor pentru ca te pierzi in propria ta "drama" si parca restul nu pot intelege,te simti golit si inutil. Paradoxal, din nimicul si golul pe care il simti trebuie doar sa vrei sa incepi sa dai. Se spune metaforic ca divinitatea a facut totul din nimic, deci nimicul exista pentru a ni-l putea explica sau pentru a-l pricepe cu capacitatea nostra mentala. Nimicul este si nu este pentru ca mereu va fi ceva si dubla negatie tot la afirmatie duce. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Important este sa nu ti se para nimicul o lipsa, cat o plenitudine, schimand perspectiva si amintitndu-ti mereu sa dai, pentru ca ceea ce conteaza cu adevarat nu se termina niciodata si va fi mereu dorit. &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/4033569166275896948-5492141173812794548?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5492141173812794548/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5492141173812794548&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5492141173812794548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5492141173812794548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2010/01/just-when-caterpillar-thought-world-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/S0Ul5Lqra-I/AAAAAAAAAeA/v3iiJ_xTKdA/s72-c/butterfly-on-pink-flower.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-1471991562752818917</id><published>2009-12-31T01:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T01:03:45.311+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't care</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XzztEWKRuj0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XzztEWKRuj0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;...'cause I can look inside your head.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-1471991562752818917?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/1471991562752818917/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=1471991562752818917&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1471991562752818917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1471991562752818917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-dont-care.html' title='I don&apos;t care'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4036787256701815072</id><published>2009-12-31T00:37:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T00:57:20.320+02:00</updated><title type='text'>To transcend or to accept?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SzvYpsiB-rI/AAAAAAAAAd4/-dc3CDxanvg/s1600-h/afv--35680--43740_product_976502823_thumb_large%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SzvYpsiB-rI/AAAAAAAAAd4/-dc3CDxanvg/s200/afv--35680--43740_product_976502823_thumb_large%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421164787310656178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Let me begin with this negativist statement: We are never going to be able to live in a zen world of peace and love. Because we are HUMAN.And maybe in the Bible it's used a great metaphor that we've commited THE sin and we carry it deep in our nature and we have to pay for it as long as we live here on Earth. Or maybe not. Maybe guilt and sin are just invented concepts and it really is something else beyond everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I trully belive that life is showing me things, teaching me lessons that bring me closer in descovering myself and closer to that bliss and peace that is called happiness. But I think that once you get there , once you transcend you can't be like all the others anymore. You either go into the mountains and live there being happy with the nature and not needing anything in the material world. Or you just become an outkast of the society in some way or the other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Life is a mystery to be lived, not to be understood - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Osho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;There are understandings and perspectives of this thing called LIFE that set people apart or on the contrary those that bring them togeter. And as I said we are HUMAN, this is so tricky because just by being what we are, we have a nature that is defining us. We are great in many ways, we are capable of many beautiful and amazing good things but we are also  capable of destruction and other feelings like being greedy, gelous, envyous etc. There is a constant fight in our nature between "good" and "bad". Wich are themsevs inveted concepts by society/religions that create frames in the collective mind. And as Einsten said everything is relative.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The ultimate enlightenment means the ultimate dissolution of the ego, the ultimate disappearance of the individual. - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Osho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Reading just one book by Osho and other fragmets from his sayings opened my mind in some way because I was agreeing most of it , but I could put all my toughts together and give them a shape and forulate them as a solution. He was talking about the future world as living in a Global Village. This is compsed by many samll comunities (max.5000 people), where there are no families , and the childern are raised by the entire comunity, and the parters can switched(with no judgement) beteen them as they want and when they want. The comunities can interact of course but there will be no money,no religions, no economy and politics (this sounds like that john lennon song) they will just make exchages like in the old times. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;All that is great cannot be possessed - and that is one of the most foolish things man goes on doing. We want to possess.  - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Osho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;At first I said to myself that's so stupid! And couldn't even imagine that really working out, but then I wanderd if is not me that  is so narrow minded, and brainwashed that I can only imagine humanity working out only as a society? Society is not just an invention I think it developed and shaped itslef by the human nature. We cannot volutirely exchage things and be fair with eachother, accepting and promoting equality. We like to gather belongnings around us. We like to have relationships and be popular, because mostly we are afraid of being lonley. (This is a big part of Osho's philosophy that I agree with- we don't really know what true love is, we just want to possess the persons next to us (MY friends, MY lover, MY wife etc.) feeding our ego and we confuse that with afection;love is freedom).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The desire to belong arises because you feel empty. In a crowd of any kind — political, religious — you forget your emptiness; the crowd fills you. - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Osho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;And when you think how big everything got, the society, the economy how one thing leds to antoher. You would think that's the only way it could work, sure there are some flaws in the sistem but...it's working in some way. Religions, politics, economy and families all in the society! But when you realize that manipulation and use of power is used to make this work, you start to think again. You think you are not doing so bad, but it ever occured that you may not be even living, you might just be dead alive? That sounds crazy becuse you seem so conscious, why wondering so much?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;When your ego is no more, only then will you know who you are. - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Osho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I just think that people are afraid of losing everyting around them, their house, thier lover, thier friends and all the pillars that keep their reality working. Becuse they do not know and love themselves for who they are. Thay define themselves trough pieces of the exterior that they try to possess, thinking that's love or affection. In fact they are only taking away the purest state of the human being -freedom- and they are beging to hurt and limitate eachother, and so a chain reaction is activated. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;We are afraind of new begings, and I mean with no assuremnts ar anything. Just seeing life as a game, as an experience and not being afraid at all of what might happen,just risk everything becuse you feel life so strongly that you know you can always get up and start again differently. We are so afraid of natural desaters becuse we get so attached by this world and what they manage to gather in a period of time. We hardly see posibility, twe see just a dead end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Love is never a relationship, and relationship is never love. Love relates, but it is not a relationship. Relationship is a dead thing, a closed thing. Love is a flowing. - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Osho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The same with society that gives us an illusion that things are oragnised, the society that puts labels so easily: "that one didn't get a job untill now", "the other one didn't got married yet", what is he thinking? what is he doing with his life?" All these lables and frames so that we can be controled more easily. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Maybe it's paranoic and people in their grateness still manage to feel happy in this conditions, but something in me tells me this is not IT, this is not happiness and reading some big beard guys books makes me belive it even more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Just finding that “I am nobody”… and that’s how existence is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-4036787256701815072?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4036787256701815072/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4036787256701815072&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4036787256701815072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4036787256701815072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/12/to-transcend-or-to-accept.html' title='To transcend or to accept?'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SzvYpsiB-rI/AAAAAAAAAd4/-dc3CDxanvg/s72-c/afv--35680--43740_product_976502823_thumb_large%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-2894416691884295919</id><published>2009-12-31T00:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T00:17:58.208+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;My dearest ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I wish so much that you will not continue to be fooled by some's hypocrisy and I hope that you could see through their masks. I don't think you need my advice, it's just my wish for you beacause I think I know your soul and this is not good for it. It's like that feeling when you're whatching a movie and you see how the character is being tricked, but you can't do nothing about it,obviously. You can only hope and wish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;yeah I know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;::::::::::&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-2894416691884295919?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/2894416691884295919/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=2894416691884295919&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2894416691884295919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2894416691884295919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-dearest-i-wish-so-much-that-you-will.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5058830922477023893</id><published>2009-12-29T13:42:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T15:00:26.301+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Improvizatie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Imi dau seama ca sunt un mare fan al improvizatiei si un dusman al previzibilului. Imporvizatie in sensul de spontaneitate, prezenta de spirit. Cred acum ca ma pot analiza pe mine insami destul de bine. Fara sa detaliez prea mult, realizez ca mi-am dezvoltat o tendinta cumva inconstienta de a nu face ceea ce mi se spune. Nu suport sa fiu controlata, masurata, limitata, ingradita. Nu suport sa fiu la fel. Vreau sa am spatiul meu, momentele mele cu mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Ma simt exact ca iedutul lui bunica care mereu scapa din tarc, strecurandu-se printre poarta si gard si incepea sa topie haotic, dar fericit. Nu mai judec oamenii, (cel putin incerc), si nu-mi judec parintii, dar au reusit sa faca din mine un iedut fara stare.Nu stiu cat mai rezist.  Tot de aici probabil si simpatia pentru improvizatie. Poate ca sunt oameni si oameni , iar nu toti functionam la fel, unii sunt pasionati de strategie si planificare. Cei mai increzuti compara lumea afacerilor de acum cu lumea vechilor razboaielor si cu strategiile de atunci, cu marii strategi ai vremii. Eu zic ca doar se mint frumos, ca sa se simta mai interesanti in legatura cu ceea ce fac. Si pana la urma la ce a dus atata planificare? Cand omul se gandeste si planifica prea mult, de cele mai multe ori devine distructiv, daca nu are adversar intra in competite cu sine insusi si se lupta cu termene limita. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Pretuiesc mult mai mult spontaneitatea, joaca cu momentul si circumstantele, bucuria de a nu te teme de ceea ce urmeaza pentru ca stii ca orice ar fi te poti adapta, relaxarea si detasarea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre;font-size:10px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre;font-size:10px;"&gt;Desi nu neaparat in aceeasi tonalitate, iata o mostra de improvizatie. Imi plac mult de tot oamenii astia:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3-e7-LJEZ5o&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3-e7-LJEZ5o&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5058830922477023893?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5058830922477023893/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5058830922477023893&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5058830922477023893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5058830922477023893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/12/improvizatie.html' title='Improvizatie'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-8667990868027539369</id><published>2009-12-18T09:45:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T01:28:07.966+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Atunci cand stii in mare ce urmeaza, dar tot te mai cuprind fiori de emotie, e de bine. Cand te simti atat de confortabil, dar tot te inrosesti din motive banale si nu indraznesti sa spui anumite lucruri sau sa faci anumite gesturi pe care ti le permitii cu altii caci acolo lipseste acel ceva indefinibil. Da, stiu ca acel ceva care face diferenta, e de bine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Cand te joci cu volumele si intaltimile tale sprituale, sufletesti, emotionale... e ca un montagne rousse care te duce la limita, cand simti ca esti atat de aproape de a ceda si brusc te intorci la sentimentul iluzoriu de siguranta, insa pentru suficient de putin timp. Stiu ca asta e de bine, e ca un fel de fitness interior care te tine in forma. Da, cred ca avem nevoie si de fitness emotional si spiritual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Si tot fara argumente, stiu ca e de bine ca generez astfel de ganduri si nu stiu cum sa mai fiu recunoscatoare pentru...tot ce a dus la ceea ce sunt eu azi, si pentru ceea ce sunt acum, chiar acum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Asta scriam eu acum vreo cateva sapatamani si azi m-a facut sa zambesc frumos. De atunci citesc si o carte pe aceeasi lungime de unda, poate o sa scriu mai pe larg si despre Osho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-8667990868027539369?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/8667990868027539369/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=8667990868027539369&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8667990868027539369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8667990868027539369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/12/atunci-cand-prevezi-ce-o-sa-se-intample.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5341253404148582263</id><published>2009-12-01T08:09:00.008+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T01:16:19.272+02:00</updated><title type='text'>De 1 Decembrie despre acel cuvânt cu "P"</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410023692111486818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SxRD4mrAn2I/AAAAAAAAAdU/9i1qu7kXtOA/s320/infinite%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Colțul acesta virtual e diafan, pașnic, poate trist cu precădere, dar e sincer și am de gând să-l mențin așa. Am zis totuși să fac niște figuri pe sarmă și să abordez și subiectul cu 'P'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E doar un pretext acesta al zilei de 1 Decembrie, sau poate nu e, poate că simt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pe scurt, nu mă pot lasa impresionată de ceea ce s-a numit până acum la noi în țară 'P'! Azi, nu cred că sensul cuvântului "alegere" mai are însemnătate. Mă descumpănesc mai ales tinerii din generații apropiate mie care, indiferent de aparenta preferniță manifestată, nu fac decat să ia parte marii manipulări și alimenteaze jocuri murdare. Mai cred că unei femei, daca nu face "P" efectiv, îi șade urât să vorbească despre asta, in mod inevitabil se sluțește.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am impresia că asist la un concurs de popularitate fara fond în care se confruntă orgolii, grupuri de interese și multimea activată emoțional. În final, rezultatul ce ne afectează pe noi fiind același în ciuda marii iluzii a alegerii și a enormelor sume de bani irosite.Se vorbește prea mult, prea prost și se face apel la simț civic către oamenii care nu-și cunosc și nu-și apară drepturile, iar mai departe, le încalca in mod fragrant și constant pe ale celorlalți. După o perioada odioasă, în ultimii 20 de ani înca n-am învățat sincronul american al democrației, abia îl prindem pe cel european și nici nu pare să ne chinuim sa îl mai infrumusețăm cu niște pași tradiționali.&lt;br /&gt;Nu, nu sunt dezamagită, doar că nu sufăr (și) de miopia "P__ii"! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mă feresc căt pot de mult de generalizarii înjositoare și ipocrite despre "noi românii" sau "cum e în afară". Și nici nu abandonez, prefer credința în fața deznădejdii, prefer mândria moștenirii mele în fața renegării identității, eu înca nu am obosit, învăt să respir ca să rezist mai mult și sper că timpul și experinența să aducă și ințelepciunea pentru momentul care știu că va veni. Poate că sună ciudat, dar infinitul nu e o iluzie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dar cam atât! Dragostea, sexul și "P" sunt lucruri care se fac, nu despre care se vorbește!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Brancuși "spune" cel mai bine:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410025561249353458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SxRFlZwNDvI/AAAAAAAAAdk/p_ySsaG8od8/s200/MasaTacerii_internet%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410025554634716882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 248px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SxRFlBHJttI/AAAAAAAAAdc/KxJTKv5ekfQ/s200/Brancusi%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Respect pentru cei care simt bătaia inimii României Întregite, și mai ales pentru cei care și acționează conform acestor simțiri:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;De voi nu ne rupeaţi din trupul vostru/ Şi-am fi rămas doar unul ,/ Nu am fi fost astăzi străini /Şi-am fi trecut şi Prutul !/ De ce nu vreţi să fim cu voi , /Să mergem mână-n mână ,/ Să construim doar un destin /- N-avem aceeaşi limbă ?!/ De ce să fim ca doi necunoscuţi , /Sa ne deschidem poarta ,/ Când noi , de fapt , suntem toţi fraţi /- Haideţi , să lărgim ograda ! /Noi vrem s-avem numai o glie ,/ Hotar , la noi , să nu mai fie ! /Graiul ce-l vorbim să ne mângâie ! /Apoi să vadă şi duşmanii /Că limba noastră strămoşească /A vrut...şi-a reuşit să ne unească ! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;surse foto: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.raduflorea.eu/ro-image/wp-content/gallery/camilg/infinite.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.targujiu.ro/AnsamblulCaleaEroilor/MasaTacerii_internet.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.artline.ro/files/gItems/image/5/Brancusi.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5341253404148582263?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5341253404148582263/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5341253404148582263&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5341253404148582263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5341253404148582263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/12/de-1-decembrie-despre-acel-cuvant-cu-p.html' title='De 1 Decembrie despre acel cuvânt cu &quot;P&quot;'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SxRD4mrAn2I/AAAAAAAAAdU/9i1qu7kXtOA/s72-c/infinite%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-370216374021824563</id><published>2009-11-13T22:14:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T22:19:08.456+02:00</updated><title type='text'>...so I can make more love</title><content type='html'>What is freedom but a fleeting notion,&lt;br /&gt;is this reality or just emotion,&lt;br /&gt;I would rather be a giver then,&lt;br /&gt;be apart of hurting you again,&lt;br /&gt;I want to be conformed to love,&lt;br /&gt;show me what to do again,&lt;br /&gt;show me to win your love,&lt;br /&gt;I want to be conformed to love,&lt;br /&gt;so I can perform love,&lt;br /&gt;My impatience is the part of me,&lt;br /&gt;that I realize you hate you say, i&lt;br /&gt;t complicates the very art of you,&lt;br /&gt;show me what ought to do,&lt;br /&gt;I want to be comformed to love,&lt;br /&gt;so I can perform love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Beloved is the greatest Love, YES!!,&lt;br /&gt;I think of him all the time,&lt;br /&gt;My beloved is the greatest love,&lt;br /&gt;please make up my mind,&lt;br /&gt;I want to be conformed to love,&lt;br /&gt;so I can make more love,&lt;br /&gt;I want to be pure pure love,&lt;br /&gt;so I can restore love,&lt;br /&gt;so I can make more love,&lt;br /&gt;so I can be sure love,&lt;br /&gt;Help me be secure love,&lt;br /&gt;so I can make more love,&lt;br /&gt;so I can restore love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That is the objective, to be conformed to love, to actually be love incarnate, because that is what I was before, but ya'll got that I think, to be love incarnate, and to not listen to people who might say there's something wrong with being love, you know. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll give you an example: You talked about professionalism, but what does professionalism have to do with a real exchange, you are as professional as you have to be right now, you are as professional as you need to be, your sincerity has offended me in any way, it hasn't confused or complicated things, if anything it's broken down and made the environment more comfortable for everyone else.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What did it do, what was the cost of your lack of professionalsim, your so called lack of professionalism, because I don't call it that. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I believe a world can exist on honesty, I just do, you know. I'm a believer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-370216374021824563?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/370216374021824563/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=370216374021824563&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/370216374021824563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/370216374021824563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/11/so-i-can-make-more-love.html' title='...so I can make more love'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-6362187230173368617</id><published>2009-11-10T13:48:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T01:35:44.321+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SvlXd3KWAxI/AAAAAAAAAc0/Lbm--Vn4cl8/s1600-h/5692_125683741093_536851093_2632791_5511692_n%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402445398542779154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SvlXd3KWAxI/AAAAAAAAAc0/Lbm--Vn4cl8/s320/5692_125683741093_536851093_2632791_5511692_n%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In viata primim multe lectii. Pe unele le invatam usor, pe altele mai greu. De ceva timp simt ca invat o lectie aproape in fiecare zi - a devenint o constanta. Poate pentru ca "a iti educa sufletul" nu e nici macar o expresie. Dar in fiecare zi inteleg ca nu intamplator traiesc ceea ce traiesc si ca trebuie sa invat lectia asta pentru a trece mai departe, pentru a marca devenirea mea continua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N-am sa zic ce lectie, pentru ca ar insemna ca am desavarsit actul cunoasterii sale, or e clar ca mereu o voi invata si trebuie sa o transform intr-un "modus vivdendi".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Este despre a da, a impartasi, a nu pretinde sa ti se cuvina nimic,a primi totul ca pe un dar,despre a nu avea posesii. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despre a te intregi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later edit: An answer: Ironically but &lt;strong&gt;"...my heart wouldn't let me learn."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;From here:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Loved hard once, but the love wasn't returned, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I found out the man I'd die for, he wasn't even concerned, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And time it turned, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He tried to burn me like a perm, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Though my eyes saw the deception, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My heart wouldn't let me learn &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;For, some dumb woman was I, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And everytime he'd lie, he would cry and inside I'd die, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My heart must have died a thousand deaths, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Compared myself to Toni Braxton thought I'd never catch my breath, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nothing left, he stole the heart beating from my chest, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I tried to call the cops, the type of thief they can't arrest, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pain suppressed, will lead to cardiac arrest, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Diamonds deserve diamonds, but he convinced me I was worthless, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But my peoples would protest, I&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;told them mind their business, cause my sh** was complex, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;More than just the sex, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I was blessed, but couldn't feel it like when I was caressed,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'd spend nights clutching my breasts, overwhelmed by God's test, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I was God's best, contemplating death with a Gillette, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But no man is ever worth the paradise, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;No man is ever worth the paradise, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And no man is ever worth the paradise, Manifest&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/L5d-w16gEHQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/L5d-w16gEHQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-6362187230173368617?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/6362187230173368617/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=6362187230173368617&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6362187230173368617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6362187230173368617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/11/in-viata-primim-multe-lectii.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SvlXd3KWAxI/AAAAAAAAAc0/Lbm--Vn4cl8/s72-c/5692_125683741093_536851093_2632791_5511692_n%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-8698365559509832406</id><published>2009-10-28T14:55:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T15:00:36.391+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Cateodata cred ca oamenii sunt incapabili sa invete din greseli. Mai ales cand greselile ii ranesc pe cei din jur, dar creeaza iluzia sau consolarea ca fac un bine.&lt;br /&gt;We're so fucked up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-8698365559509832406?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/8698365559509832406/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=8698365559509832406&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8698365559509832406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8698365559509832406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/10/cateodata-cred-ca-oamenii-sunt.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5377466330841129663</id><published>2009-10-25T23:15:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T23:22:08.547+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SuTAjdKNA3I/AAAAAAAAAck/OlVRQP25ii0/s1600-h/tumblr_krwjukSmO61qzuhd2o1_500%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396649968852075378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 282px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SuTAjdKNA3I/AAAAAAAAAck/OlVRQP25ii0/s400/tumblr_krwjukSmO61qzuhd2o1_500%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Motto: "It is very sad, but it's the time to declare that love is dead." - Fay Weldon, The Independent, 2000&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Viata se misca repede. Nu mai e timp de romantism. Sau daca-l doresti, il planifici. Modele sunt destule in filme, iar comertul nu intarzie sa preintampine acesta nevoie oferind un summum de clisee si stereotipii.Poate ca iubirea este prea dureroasa si neconvenabila, ne cere prea mult timp si prea mult efort si energie, ne face sa nu ne mai pierdem in contemplarea celuilalt. Costurile psihologice ale iubirii sunt prea mari si ele se convertesc in materialitatea unor gesturi pe care comertul le dezvolta nemasurat, facadu-ne prizionerii obiectelor. Dar mai departe nu stiu...oare fiecare chiar isi traieste propriile povesti, adica are curajul sa infrunte toate trairile si sa le dea o forma adevrata, sincera? Sau suntem luati de valul societatii, al "modelelor" pe care le vedem pe masura ce crestem in familie si cercul de cunoscuti, al basmelor cu "si-au trait fericiti pana la adanci batraneti" si al industriei tv?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si nici macar nu pot sa fac afirmatii precum cea din motto, pentru ca (si cred ca am mai spus asta) nu stiu cum arata si ce este iubirea intre un barbat si o femeie. De fapt nu stiu cum arata in cazul meu, nu cred ca pentru mine este ce este pentru prietenii mei si cu atat mai putin ceea ce se promoveaza in diverse piete de consum. Poate ca vad si exemple pozitive care ma emotioneaza, oameni cu povesti impresionante, dar viata e nu e mereu atat de spectaculoasa. Te uiti si te intorci si te intrebi, cat e prietenie, cat e respect, cat e obisnuinta, cat e angajament, cat e confort, cat e sex, cat e ajutor si sprijin, cat e pasiune, cat e dependenta, cat e siguranta? Da da, din toate cate putin, in momente diferite, se va raspunde. Dar eu cred ca asta e mare prostie! Cred ca e prea multa ratiune si analiza, prea multe SWOT-uri si combinatii de sentimente, prea multe case si afaceri, prea mult teribilism, prea multe rochii albe, prea multe cupluri la indigo si prea putin, de data asta curaj.&lt;br /&gt;Psihologii spun ca exista prea multa constiinta de sine, prea mult calcul si gand ascuns, prea mare preocupare pentru self-esteem. Si da, poate ca nimeni nu ne mai ajunge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu ma gandeam ca am devenit prea analitici, prea constienti si lucizi, pentru a fi deschisi la iubire.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5377466330841129663?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5377466330841129663/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5377466330841129663&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5377466330841129663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5377466330841129663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/10/motto-it-is-very-sad-but-its-time-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SuTAjdKNA3I/AAAAAAAAAck/OlVRQP25ii0/s72-c/tumblr_krwjukSmO61qzuhd2o1_500%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4936289962970681210</id><published>2009-10-11T13:37:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T13:54:01.968+03:00</updated><title type='text'>de la Oreste</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/StG3oh1M1qI/AAAAAAAAAb8/JGg2k02LvHs/s1600-h/sBILdk57Cqe83dsteG1JDnwxo1_400%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391292135843354274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/StG3oh1M1qI/AAAAAAAAAb8/JGg2k02LvHs/s320/sBILdk57Cqe83dsteG1JDnwxo1_400%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Pentru ca fara sa stiu de unde si cum, intruiesc calea, o simt si nu sunt lasata sa ma ratacesc :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In viata, avem cateva porti de deschis si unele de inchis. Mentalitatea noastra europeana, inca ne impiedica sa intelegem Legea lui 1. Mostenind dualitatea, am devenit separatisti, spre deosebire de orientali, care sunt integralisti. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se pune ca Raiul si Iadul sunt definite de scopul fiintei si atunci, suntem demiurgii propriului nostru destin. Karma este darul, atributul divin pe care l-am primit cand trupul nostru din lut si apa, a capatatat constiinta nemuririi. Moartea nu este finalul, ci doar o stare tranzitorie intre viata si o noua viata. Daca nu iesim din Roata Vietii Materiale, Samasara, moartea ne conduce spre o noua incarnare, insa daca intelegem si ne Unim, moartea ne va purta spre viata vejnica. Asadar, dincolo de Bine si Rau, se afla un fruct mult mai zemos, un mar care nu se strica niciodata si el creste in Pomul Vietii! Suntem interconectati. Actiunile psihice, mentale si fizice creaza realitatiile generatiilor. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Evolutia individuala este direct legata de cea a umanitatii. In Sodoma si Gomora, daca ar fi existat macar un singur individ cu Lumina Vie in el, nu s-ar fi intamplat Distrugerea. Buddha, zambeste caci a inteles ca fiecare dintre noi avem sansa Nirvanei, a Paradisului pierdut dar regasit prin Cale. Daca ne-am stradui putin sa gandim global, am intelege mai repede cat este de imporatant sa ne lasam purtati de valul existentei, pana la liman. Avem barca iubirii, vaslele puterii, ale vointei si un rau involburat care curge cu o singura misune. Aceea de a se varsa in marele Ocean!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cine prinde talcul povestii, devine din personaj, autor. Si abia, aici, in domeniul marii creatii, omul devine cu adevarat nemuritor. Suntem definiti ca fiinta de opera personala. Sa lasam in urma noastra o dara de lumina, ca urmasii sa nu se rataceasca pe Cale, iar calea nostra este impletita din iubire, adevar si Viata! E simplu. Simplitatea este stanta lui Dumnezeu, dovada vie a Adevarului Sau. Asadar, cu cat ne vom complica in filosofii sterile si vom confunda calea cu scopul, ne vom pierde toate energiile in Roata. Iesirea din ea se numeste mantuire in crestinism, eliberare in buddhism, unire in islam si desfacere de legaturi in peisajul shamanic universal. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Cautati Adevarul si el va va face liberi!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Accentul este pus pe cautare si nu pe gasire, caci noi stim deja unde se afla. In imperiul lumii interioare, in inima noastra. Tot acolo se intalnesc cele doua trinitati in dinamica permanenta: Fiul lui Dumnezeu care Coboara si Fiul Omului care Urca!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Respectand intregul salvezi detaliul!&lt;/strong&gt; Absolut fiecare forma de viata spune o poveste. Iesi din cercul vicios al emotiilor si dorintelor. OBSERVA! Florile vorbesc, animale gandesc, pietrele iti ofera energia lor. Pamantul are grija de tine, iar cerul te binecuvanteaza cu fiecare ploaie de vara, cu fiecare adiere de vant. Oricat de bogat si puternic ai fi nu poti primi natural mai mult de cat are fiinta ta nevoie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Abuzul accelereaza consumul energetic, iar lipsa combustibilului viatal aduce pamantul peste persoana si uitarea peste sine! Spiritul nemuritor pluteste deasupra noastra si abia asteapta sa-l simtim. Cand vei intelege ca niciodata nu esti singur, vei avea grija sa pretuiesti fiecare zi ca pe momentul zero, cand trecutul, prezentul si viitorul devin unicul timp al Fiintei.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-4936289962970681210?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4936289962970681210/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4936289962970681210&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4936289962970681210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4936289962970681210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/10/de-la-oreste.html' title='de la Oreste'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/StG3oh1M1qI/AAAAAAAAAb8/JGg2k02LvHs/s72-c/sBILdk57Cqe83dsteG1JDnwxo1_400%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-292278509368676430</id><published>2009-10-03T23:01:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T23:08:05.381+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another...not</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You and I,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;we’re two of a kind,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hate to say it but you’ll never relate,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;what makes you tick?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It makes me smile.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You said that I should get away from it all,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and bury my head in the sand if I want to,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I think you…should thank me now.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You were lying wide awake in the garden,trying to get over your stardom,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and I could never see you depart us&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and you’re my baby,you’re just another girl.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I never mind the way I had to see ya,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;my working on a day show never explains why I see youand I feel your pain.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love to wear my work inside of my head,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I can’t complain but you should never react the way you did,I feel your time.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You were lying wide awake in the garden,trying to get over your stardom,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and I could never see you depart us&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and you’re my baby…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you were lying wide awake in the garden,trying to get over your stardom,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and I could never see you depart us&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and you’re my baby&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;,you’re just another girl,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;just another girl..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;style type="text/css"&gt; @import url(http://beemp3.com/player/embed.css);&lt;/style&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://beemp3.com/player/left-dkrow3.gif); MARGIN: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BACKGROUND-REPEAT: repeat-y" width="16"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://beemp3.com/player/corner-topleft2.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; FONT-SIZE: 11px; BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://beemp3.com/player/bkgnd-top2.gif); PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: bottom; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BACKGROUND-REPEAT: repeat-x; FONT-FAMILY: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"&gt;Pete Yorn - Just another&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://beemp3.com/player/right-dkrow3.gif); MARGIN: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BACKGROUND-REPEAT: repeat" width="16"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://beemp3.com/player/corner-topright2.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr valign="center"&gt;&lt;td style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://beemp3.com/player/left-ltrow2.gif); WIDTH: 16px" width="16"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 11px; BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://beemp3.com/player/light2.gif); VERTICAL-ALIGN: bottom; BACKGROUND-REPEAT: repeat; FONT-FAMILY: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"&gt;&lt;embed class="beeplayer" style="WIDTH: 290px; HEIGHT: 24px" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" align="middle" src="http://beemp3.com/player/player.swf" width="290" height="24" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" quality="high" bgcolor="#ffffff" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" flashvars="playerID=1&amp;amp;bg=0xCDDFF3&amp;amp;leftbg=0x357DCE&amp;amp;lefticon=0xF2F2F2&amp;amp;rightbg=0x64F051&amp;amp;rightbghover=0x1BAD07&amp;amp;righticon=0xF2F2F2&amp;amp;righticonhover=0xFFFFFF&amp;amp;text=0x357DCE&amp;amp;slider=0x357DCE&amp;amp;track=0xFFFFFF&amp;amp;border=0xFFFFFF&amp;amp;loader=0xAF2910&amp;amp;soundFile=http%3A//wap1.ynet.com.cn/widget/DownRing/MP3/Pete_Yorn_Just_another.mp3%0A%0A"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: bottom; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://beemp3.com/player/logo_small.gif" /&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://beemp3.com/player/right-ltrow2.gif); WIDTH: 16px" width="16"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="16"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://beemp3.com/player/corner-bottomleft2.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; FONT-SIZE: 11px; BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://beemp3.com/player/bkgnd-bottom2.gif); PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: top; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BACKGROUND-REPEAT: repeat-x; FONT-FAMILY: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;Found at &lt;a href="http://beemp3.com/download.php?file=3448078&amp;amp;song=Just+another"&gt;bee mp3 search engine&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="16"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://beemp3.com/player/corner-bottomright2.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-292278509368676430?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/292278509368676430/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=292278509368676430&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/292278509368676430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/292278509368676430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/10/just-anothernot.html' title='Just another...not'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5961313359565715243</id><published>2009-09-24T00:44:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T00:49:25.008+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Locked</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SrqXHx2gU0I/AAAAAAAAAb0/TX8d3apxE34/s1600-h/gate_guardians_by_Dune_sea%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384782464371675970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SrqXHx2gU0I/AAAAAAAAAb0/TX8d3apxE34/s400/gate_guardians_by_Dune_sea%5B2%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://dune-sea.deviantart.com/art/gate-guardians-95875882"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;sursa foto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;A locked gateway inside St Peter's catherdral in Vatican&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5961313359565715243?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5961313359565715243/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5961313359565715243&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5961313359565715243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5961313359565715243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/09/locked.html' title='Locked'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SrqXHx2gU0I/AAAAAAAAAb0/TX8d3apxE34/s72-c/gate_guardians_by_Dune_sea%5B2%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-2951959330897168773</id><published>2009-09-18T00:48:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T01:02:15.929+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre</title><content type='html'>Sunt atat de constienta de micimea mea si de efemeritatea a tot ce ma inconjoara.(NU,nu e nimic trist in ce scriu aici.E de bine.)Merg pe strada si deodata ma gandesc la ce se intampla oare in alt colt al Planetei, ma uit la oameni cum isi fac drum prin multime, ma gandesc la povestile lor.Nu le cunosc dar mi le imaginez. Cred ca suntem toti o minune, locul asta e un miracol. Ma detasez asa de usor si vad cateodata atat de limpede cum omul isi creeaza scenarii, drame, comedii..cum toate trec, cum toate vin. As putea sa fac asta neincetat, doar sa stau sa contemplu.Suntem fantastici cum traim, cum adumnam in suflet tot, cum suferim, cum ne bucuram, cum ne intristam. Tot uimitoare mi se par ura,cruzimea si prostia, dar mai ales spectacolul in care se izbesc toate si la final..tot emotii. Cateodata as vrea sa nu mai simt nimic...dar ce-am fi fara sentiment.Nu stim si nici nu vom sti pentru ca noi stim doar ce traim(iluzia cunoasterii), iar viata este sentiment;si slabiciunile umane, frica vs. curaj si tot ce nu indraznim pentru ca devenim prizioneri.Nu am zis ai cui prizioneri pentru ca variaza. Si viata mea e asa, oricat fortez limitele intelegerii, ma intorc la ea si o simt.Si mi-am dat seama ca in esenta nu sunt egoista, ca uit foarte usor de mine, poate si pentru ca am fascinatia asta a spectacolului vietii in intregimea sa.Intregul insemnad toate povestiile oamenilor, un intreg pe care refuz sa-l separ.&lt;br /&gt;Dupa toate gandurile ce ma inunda, trebuie sa spun totusi ca ma indoiesc ca locul asta exista cu adevarat si ca noi suntem aici.Nu cred,in micimea mea, in nicun sens real a tot ce se intampla si nici in existenta. Ne invaluie si ne iubeste intr-un mod dincolo de perceptia nostra, dincolo de puternea noastra de articulare, dincolo de ceea ce numim "tot". Ma repet, dar am sentimentul ca noi nu &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;suntem&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; material si ma simt atat de impacata cu &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;trairea&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; asta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Si sunetul de violoncel imi place cel mai mult,iar impreuna cu pianul imi spun povesti multe si atat de frumoase..ale oamenilor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-kh8G55h_CM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-kh8G55h_CM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-2951959330897168773?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/2951959330897168773/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=2951959330897168773&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2951959330897168773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2951959330897168773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/09/despre.html' title='Despre'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4302816897626458378</id><published>2009-09-15T20:53:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T21:10:27.629+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Et nous avions tous du génie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sq_YgIVOcBI/AAAAAAAAAbk/PtnSJISs-H4/s1600-h/aOFNtGJX9jzuiedhHRBBcS65o1_400%5B1%5D+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381758126234955794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 265px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sq_YgIVOcBI/AAAAAAAAAbk/PtnSJISs-H4/s400/aOFNtGJX9jzuiedhHRBBcS65o1_400%5B1%5D+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Epuisés, mais ravis, faut-il bien que l'on s'aime et que l'on aime la vie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Et toutes tes gestes sont ici, ca voulait dire..tu es jolie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On était fous, mais ca ne veut plus rien dire du tout. &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/4033569166275896948-4302816897626458378?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4302816897626458378/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4302816897626458378&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4302816897626458378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4302816897626458378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/09/et-nous-avions-tous-du-genie.html' title='Et nous avions tous du génie'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sq_YgIVOcBI/AAAAAAAAAbk/PtnSJISs-H4/s72-c/aOFNtGJX9jzuiedhHRBBcS65o1_400%5B1%5D+(2).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4876388112610522617</id><published>2009-09-10T07:32:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T03:47:14.263+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Some things are better left unsaid</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;"-Tu ce vrei?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Si fata isi muta privrea de obicei sigura ce patrunde drept ochii interlocutorului. Acum cauta pe masa urme invizibile, ezita...se pierde in fata unei intrebari care o rascoleste in tacere; dar odata verbalizata si adresata capata o agresivitate agasanta.Ea, care mereu a pretuit capacitatea oamenilor de a se exprima, de a pune punctul pe "i", tocmai ea caruia ii plac atat de mult cuvintele. Sunt lucruri pe care le simte atat de puternic, sunt sentimente. Cum sa raspunda? Nici nu ar fi timp destul sa cuprinda tot, dar nici nu stie de unde si cum sa inceapa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000000;"&gt;Cand esti mic ti se dau aripi. Descoperi lumea si se formeaza curajul de a trai. Din pacate, iubirea celor mari nu stie mereu sa ia forma si se transforma in contrariul esentei sale care este libertatea, devenind posesie. Si asa, copilul, atat de fragil, atat de receptiv DEVINE cel de maine. Si asa devin generatii si generatii de oameni care formeaza societatea. Si toate cuvintele din copilarie ce ti adreseaza se lipesc de subconstient."Prostule" "O sa faci pe naiba!", "Treci la loc!", "Nu pune mana!", "ce ti-am spus?", "nu esti in stare de nimic". Da, mai ales cele negative. Si cuvintele si gesturile, Tot! Nu iti mai amintesti tot cu exactitate dar subconstentul are colectate toate trairile, le porti cu tine mereu. Terapia te ajuta, mintea poate fi antrenata uimitor, de aici si "the power of tought", dar creierul sanatos nu pierde informatii emotionale.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Inca nu poate sa ridice privirea si sa raspunda. Trairile si visele refuza sa capete o forma codificata verbal si astfel sa poata fi receptate de altcineva. Si-ar dori ca doar uitandu-se la ea toata lumea sa stie ce vrea, sa fie evident. Dupa cum merge, dupa cum se poarta,dupa gesturi, dupa cum reactioneaza. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Cel mai mult i-ar placea ca dintr-o singura privire sa raspunda la intrebarea "ce vrei?". cine nu intelege, nu va intelege nici dintr-o mie de cuvinte oricum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Alege sa nu franga in cuvinte mici si abrupte dorinta vie ce traieste in ea si isi ridica incet,treptat ochii spre sursa intrebarii. Revarsand,lasa lumina din privire sa calatoreasca cu viteza sa inca neegalata, pentru ca apoi, urma ei sa isi incheie drumul arcuit alunecand concentrat pana sub barbie. Zambeste...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-4876388112610522617?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4876388112610522617/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4876388112610522617&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4876388112610522617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4876388112610522617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/09/some-things-are-better-left-unsaid.html' title='Some things are better left unsaid'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7442867036292945407</id><published>2009-09-04T19:53:00.007+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T22:32:16.451+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SqFOEAlpniI/AAAAAAAAAbU/NQakuDQ8ftk/s1600-h/forever___by_V3Nr3VeNG3%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377665260841442850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SqFOEAlpniI/AAAAAAAAAbU/NQakuDQ8ftk/s400/forever___by_V3Nr3VeNG3%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cam asa am fost in ultimul timp. Exact in pozitia asta abordez fotoliile generoase si daca sunt numai eu imi place sa nu-mi acopar picioarele. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...dulcea iluzie ca schimbarea pozitiei normale a corpului aduce si schimbarea in perspectiva prin care privesti viata, durerea scurta din piept si forma pe care o capata fumul in aer jucandu-se cu lumina, expiratia toxica care pare sa ia toate grijile odata ce parasete interiorul corpului. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...cautarea linistii cand tensiunea din corzile nervoase este maxima.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si raspunsurile nici nu mai conteaza, uneori viata ne traieste pe noi cu o violenta si o sete care te ingenuncheaza si te leaga de maini si de picioare. Nu-ti ramane decat sa astepti, sa te antrenezi, sa mai rabzi, pana cand, intr-o zi, vei slabi stransorile, le vei inlatura si o sa poti atunci sa lovesti inapoi. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="46" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/EmaM/e68550dc878907.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/EmaM/e68550dc878907.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Alexandrina Hristov - Noi 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Muzica" href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7442867036292945407?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/7442867036292945407/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=7442867036292945407&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7442867036292945407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7442867036292945407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/09/cam-asa-am-fost-in-ultimul-timp.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SqFOEAlpniI/AAAAAAAAAbU/NQakuDQ8ftk/s72-c/forever___by_V3Nr3VeNG3%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-3191344449807420568</id><published>2009-08-28T01:25:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T01:29:44.897+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Am auzit odata o poveste. Un copil mergea cu tatal sau pe strada si la un moment dat cei doi observa un barbat care lovea o femeie. Ea se ridica, se scutura de praf si-l urma in timp ce acesta se indeparata. Barbatul se intorcea si ii spunea sa inceteze sa-l mai bata la cap si mai trimitea o lovitura. Femeia isi revenea si continua sa-i vorbeasca urmandu-l, desi primea cate o palma aproape la fiecare intoarcere a barbatului.Copilul ii spune ingrozit tatalui sau: "De ce nu faci nimic? Nu vezi ca mai are putin si o omoara? Tatal i-a raspuns: "Atata timp cat ea il va urma nu e nimic ce pot eu sa fac, isi "castiga" fiecare palma cu fiecare pas pe care il face dupa el."&lt;br /&gt;-Final&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-3191344449807420568?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/3191344449807420568/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=3191344449807420568&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3191344449807420568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3191344449807420568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/08/am-auzit-odata-o-poveste.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-503550208921215086</id><published>2009-08-19T01:55:00.019+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T17:52:52.230+03:00</updated><title type='text'>August</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Motto:&lt;/strong&gt; "There was once a very lovely, very frightened girl. She lived alone except for a nameless cat."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sos_6P2nRDI/AAAAAAAAAbM/o3bBLGeukOw/s1600-h/16%2520night%2520sky%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371457250490008626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 283px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sos_6P2nRDI/AAAAAAAAAbM/o3bBLGeukOw/s400/16%2520night%2520sky%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sos-PWNndbI/AAAAAAAAAbE/DtWnr7fTl5c/s1600-h/16%2520night%2520sky%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eu noptile de august nu pot sa le dorm. Cred ca sunt perfecte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Organismul si psihicul meu refuza sa intre in stare de repaos. Si nu as putea sa am motivul rational al lipsei de activitati intense, pentru ca si anul trecut cand aveam treaba mai multa mi se intampla acelasi lucru.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As putea sa stau sa privesc cerul toata noaptea si mi-ar placea sa nu o mai fac din unghiul ascutit si prea zgarcit al balconului meu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Imi place luna august cu toate nelinistile ei, cu toata incarcatura finalului de vara si prevestirea sosirii inevitabile a toamnei, cu toata racoarea care vine odata cu seara, cu toate fructele care se coc, cu toate deciziile pe care trebuie sa le ei, cu toate cumparaturile pe care le facem. Imi place ca soarele pare mai mare si mai rosu la apus, ca vin pensionarii cupluri cupluri la mare, ca isi iau ai mei concediu si pleaca la munte, ca aerul incepe sa devina din nou respirabil, ca magazinele se umplu de rechizite si miroase a plastic si a guma.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si cred ca-mi place si ca anul asta, in August, nu stiu nimic despre ce voi face -and it's this fucking pressure, but I kinda have this natural high...and sometimes I stop and I laugh at life and at all these fake and stupid frames that society puts us in. And then, I secretly make a vow that I will never surrender to conformity and that I will always be bold and brave enough to take a twist and make it all worth, and maybe write a book about it. And I still wish for myself to find people who would just fight me and break through to me and hold me down and scream thier life into my face. People who won't let me lose myself or anything ,and I want do the same for them unconditionally. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Imi place August si pentru ca are 31 de zile doar pentru ca imparatul Cezar August vroia ca luna ce-i poarta numele sa aibe tot atatea zile ca si luna imparatului Iulius Cezar, al carui nepot era.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dar cel mai mult imi plac...noptile de august si cerul lor plin cu praful stralucitor de zane.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BOByH_iOn88&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BOByH_iOn88&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;...maybe living alone with a nameless cat is a potential great stage in one's life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-503550208921215086?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/503550208921215086/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=503550208921215086&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/503550208921215086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/503550208921215086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/08/august.html' title='August'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sos_6P2nRDI/AAAAAAAAAbM/o3bBLGeukOw/s72-c/16%2520night%2520sky%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-869782037834799783</id><published>2009-08-11T17:12:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T20:12:02.113+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Omul frumos</title><content type='html'>Cand un om care s-a nascut infirm, cu corpul micut si deformat, mai putin capul si chipul, iti vorbeste zambind despre atractie si sex, iti dai seama ca nu ai nicio idee despre nimic, esti redus la 0, ti se da restart. Se uita drept in ochii tai cu privirea cautand in trecut si iti povesteste despre prietena din clasa a 7 care i-a scris pe un bilet ca nu mai poate fi cu "baiat ca el" , iar de atunci s-a lasat urmarit de aceasi replica venita de la persoane diferite timp de 14 ani. Dupa ce-l asculti iti dai seama ca nu ai ajuns nici macar aproape de frumusete in cautarile tale, nu ai inteles de unde vine defapt tot ce este real si in acelasi timp divin intr-un om. Te intorci in lumea "oamenilor normali" si iti vine sa ii atingi direct pe fata ca si cum ar fi niste papusi, sa-i zgudui, sa-i intorci pe toate partile cautand dincolo de corpul si chipul lor. Cautand-i pe ei in ei, incercand sa gasesti farama aia infima de frumusete divina,care pare captiva undeva acoperita de pielea care sta intinsa pe configuratia osoasa si speri aproape naiv sa nu se fi stins de tot. Cand acelasi om iti spune tie, om "frumos" al societatii, cum a trecut peste toate astea, cand el este cel care te incurajeaza pe tine, atunci iti dai seama ca nimic pe lumea asta nu ar trebui sa te deznadajuiasca vreodata. Altfel nu te-ai transforma decat intr-un tarator prin viata desi corpul ti-ar permite sa mergi drept si demn. Te gandesti ca pana acum nu ai plans nicodata cu adevarat ci doar te-ai smiorcait, nu te-a durut nicodata cu adevrat ci doar ti s-a parut, nu te-ai luptat ci doar ai te-ai plamuit un pic. Dupa ce auzi un astfel de om vorbind si dupa ce ii cunosti povestea, nu ai cum sa mai vezi oamenii din jur la fel, nu ai cum sa mai continui sa fi tu la fel, nu ai sa te mai multumesti doar cu aparente. Poti doar sa continui sa fi mai tare,si paradoxal, sa pastrezi nebunia credintei ca vei gasi crampeiul de lumnia divina si in alti oameni.&lt;br /&gt;Nu ai sa te opresti niciodata din a cauta si din a crede.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-869782037834799783?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/869782037834799783/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=869782037834799783&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/869782037834799783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/869782037834799783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/08/omul-frumos.html' title='Omul frumos'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-1280734149474353021</id><published>2009-08-10T13:13:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T13:15:58.771+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>E incomparabilă expresia chipului unui copil cand îi spun că mă numesc Zâna.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-1280734149474353021?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/1280734149474353021/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=1280734149474353021&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1280734149474353021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1280734149474353021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/08/e-incomparabila-expresia-chipului-unui.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7906841151954090480</id><published>2009-07-29T07:38:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T04:05:11.994+03:00</updated><title type='text'>A curse, a prayer, a wish, a spell or will</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.alexgalmeanu.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;foto credit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sm-X-mrR11I/AAAAAAAAAaY/wg-BPEnBiBs/s1600-h/NY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363672783011305298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sm-X-mrR11I/AAAAAAAAAaY/wg-BPEnBiBs/s400/NY.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;This morning I am making a wish and I stop procrastinating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7906841151954090480?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/7906841151954090480/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=7906841151954090480&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7906841151954090480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7906841151954090480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/curse-prayer-wish-spell-or-free-will.html' title='A curse, a prayer, a wish, a spell or will'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sm-X-mrR11I/AAAAAAAAAaY/wg-BPEnBiBs/s72-c/NY.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-8857299023571356471</id><published>2009-07-29T03:10:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T04:00:20.590+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='made me smile today'/><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aDOiWOlltzI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aDOiWOlltzI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-8857299023571356471?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/8857299023571356471/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=8857299023571356471&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8857299023571356471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8857299023571356471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post_29.html' title=':)'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4337041901520145898</id><published>2009-07-27T17:37:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T03:49:33.296+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"It comes that time when you have to look deep into your soul and open that envelope where it stays written your purpose here on Earth. It will be a cause that will give meaning to every day of your life, it will be a cause worth dying for."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LE: great tune..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/u6QAHTjgv8Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/u6QAHTjgv8Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-4337041901520145898?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4337041901520145898/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4337041901520145898&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4337041901520145898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4337041901520145898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-comes-that-time-when-you-have-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5817673051977885642</id><published>2009-07-26T03:17:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T03:49:41.015+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ciorne'/><title type='text'>Naturally</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmuiFXJGxhI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/gInVFptUCtA/s1600-h/original+sin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362557994309961234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 302px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 290px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmuiFXJGxhI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/gInVFptUCtA/s320/original+sin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sunt doua tipuri de fete pe lumea asta: cele cu parul drept si cuminte si cele cu parul rebel si cret. Atat! As putea sa inchiei aici.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar pentru ca precizarea de mai sus nu este (inca) axiomatica ci chiar metaforica am sa continui. Fenomenul cred ca este unul nativ, altfel nu as putea sa-l explic. Sunt deci, fetele simple, adica alaturi de care iti este usor sa convietuiesti, carora le este usor sa aleaga si care nu risca foarte mult.Ele se asigura ca au mereu in bratele cui sa planga si cine sa le spuna ca sunt cele mai frumoase si destepte. Fug mai mereu de cliplele de singuratate profunda in care sa ramana cu ele insele, in care sa se intrebe mai mult si in care cel mai probabil li s-ar increti parul. Dar nu, ele se asigura mereu ca au parul drept! Este momentul ala in care alegi sa ai parul drept si renunti la modul natural in care orice par se carlionteaza dupa ce e umezit si se usuca la soare si vant.Il domolesti sa il aranjezi pana la ultima suvita si asa, de la aranjarea parului incalcit si cret ajugi la a-ti aranja viata si modul de a fi dupa cum spun altii ca e bine si nu dupa cum e natural si liber.&lt;br /&gt;Fete cu parul drept par mereu sa stie ce vor, inca de mici stiu de la predecesoarele lor ca trebuie asa: un partener, o nunta si copii pana in 30 ani, hai 35. Suna cunoscut nu? A, sa nu uitam de cariera si "femeia independenta". (aici fac o paranteza in care sa precizez ca "nu mai pot" cu femeile independete si de cariera care pozeaza in mici dictatori, dar ii sterg lui "iubi" restul de sos din coltul gurii. Nu imi plac femeile alea scortoase in costum business,care nu ar recunoste in ruptul capului ca au plans la un film). Desi in fata celor multi se arata puternice ele stiu foarte bine sa joace rolul victimei si imbraca haina vulnerabilitatii exact atat cat trebuie si in fata cui trebuie.Fetele cu parul drept sunt societatea, sunt aparentele, sunt copii ale unor copii.Ele sunt totusi partenerele ideale, pentru ca e mai simplu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si sunt si fetele cu parul cret. Care se razgandesc des, care cauta mereu mai mult, poate si acolo unde nu e nimic.Vor sa aibe ceva real, profund, dar nu-si fac niciodata lucrurile simple. Sunt vulnerabile, dar in fata cui nu trebuie, pana cand renunta temporar, dar niciodata pentru totdeauna. O fata cu parul cret nu ar da doi bani pe societate, ar putea sa aibe o familie la orice varsta daca asa ar simti sau ar lua un copil abandonat si la 40 de ani si l-ar creste sigura si l-ar invata tot ce stie ea. Fetele cu parul cret cauta mereu un sens si de multe ori le este greu pentru ca multe lucruri nu au sens. Cauta un sens si in ocupatia lor, dincolo de profit. Fetele cu parul cret sunt imprevizibile,uneori sunt capabile sa astepte foarte mult, dar alteori nu au rabdare nici 5 minute. O fata cu parul cret traieste in prezent, si arde momentul desi viitorul nu promite nimic. Exact ca parul ondulat niciodata nu se aseaza cum vrea altcineva, sunt incapatanate.Fete cu parul cret nu se tem de ele insele pentru ca ajung sa se cunoasca in momentele variate in care se lasa purtate. Cred ca fetele cu parul cret iubesc atat de sincer viata incat vor sa ia cat mai mult de la ea, de la durere pana la bucuria fara margini. O fata cu parul cret stie sa-si recapete ambitia si determinarea, iar puterea ei o face sa fie mereu verticala. Ea vrea bomboane si inghetata si poate sa merga mult pe jos, ea invata mereu si e in continua devenire. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cu fetele cu parul cret nu e niciodata simplu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.yehplay.com/musics/Carlos-VillalobosLa-Esperanza-La-Punta/178823/" target="_blank"&gt;Carlos Villalobos/La Esperanza - La Punta&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object id="yehplay" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=" height="60" width="260" align="middle" border="0" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"&gt;&lt;param name="_cx" value="6879"&gt;&lt;param name="_cy" value="1588"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Movie" value="http://www.mp3tube.net/play.swf?id=75ac52bf6b4c2f3a0e52296f8d0d54ef"&gt;&lt;param name="Src" value="http://www.mp3tube.net/play.swf?id=75ac52bf6b4c2f3a0e52296f8d0d54ef"&gt;&lt;param name="WMode" value="Transparent"&gt;&lt;param name="Play" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Loop" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Quality" value="High"&gt;&lt;param name="SAlign" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Menu" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="Base" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="AllowScriptAccess" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Scale" value="ShowAll"&gt;&lt;param name="DeviceFont" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="EmbedMovie" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="BGColor" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SWRemote" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="MovieData" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SeamlessTabbing" value="1"&gt;&lt;param name="Profile" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="ProfileAddress" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="ProfilePort" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowNetworking" value="all"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowFullScreen" value="false"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.mp3tube.net/play.swf?id=75ac52bf6b4c2f3a0e52296f8d0d54ef" quality="High" width="260" height="60" name="yehplay" align="middle" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" wmode="transparent" menu="false"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5817673051977885642?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5817673051977885642/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5817673051977885642&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5817673051977885642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5817673051977885642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/naturally.html' title='Naturally'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmuiFXJGxhI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/gInVFptUCtA/s72-c/original+sin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7280410834402766425</id><published>2009-07-24T13:49:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T03:49:49.646+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'>Who are you?</title><content type='html'>This gives me strenght:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7G-7-ZiiM-o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7G-7-ZiiM-o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7280410834402766425?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/7280410834402766425/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=7280410834402766425&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7280410834402766425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7280410834402766425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/who-are-you.html' title='Who are you?'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-3256386840455315591</id><published>2009-07-21T22:57:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T23:31:22.235+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='made me cry today'/><title type='text'>When we open our eyes and...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="40" width="250"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://listen.grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&amp;amp;widgetID=10630742&amp;amp;style=metal&amp;amp;p=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;embed src="http://listen.grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="250" height="40" flashvars="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&amp;widgetID=10630742&amp;style=metal&amp;p=0" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="window"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmXvamYJ3lI/AAAAAAAAAaI/AlMzKHZp5nQ/s1600-h/P7210128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360954171711938130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 344px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmXvamYJ3lI/AAAAAAAAAaI/AlMzKHZp5nQ/s400/P7210128.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmXvNTZIYII/AAAAAAAAAaA/2ymwFJ5lvIw/s1600-h/P7210120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360953943277461634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 345px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmXvNTZIYII/AAAAAAAAAaA/2ymwFJ5lvIw/s400/P7210120.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Imi fac ordine in camera mea in fiecare zi, impachetez si tot pare sa nu termin.&lt;br /&gt;Azi am gasit o "diploma" din acelea de care se vindeau(si se mai vand probabil) la magazinele de suveniruri de la sosea din statiunile de munte.&lt;br /&gt;Este de cand aveam eu 12 ani si ele vreo 13.&lt;br /&gt;M-a induiosat tare mult, si mi-e dor de ele...si mi-am amintit inca odata cum nu sunt efectiv capabila sa pastrez oamenii aproape de mine sau sa ma duc dupa ei sa-i caut.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-3256386840455315591?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/3256386840455315591/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=3256386840455315591&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3256386840455315591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3256386840455315591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/when-we-open-our-eyes-and.html' title='When we open our eyes and...'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmXvamYJ3lI/AAAAAAAAAaI/AlMzKHZp5nQ/s72-c/P7210128.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-6244922886094646536</id><published>2009-07-18T05:30:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T05:45:04.853+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'>Where should I go, if Earth's the only place I know?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEv_0VV6ZI/AAAAAAAAAZw/cr8m-JH8Uew/s1600-h/moi+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359617804974025106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 248px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 356px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEv_0VV6ZI/AAAAAAAAAZw/cr8m-JH8Uew/s320/moi+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;M&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;otto:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nu stiu ce am,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ca nu dorm cand dorm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nu stiu ce am,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ca nu sunt treaz,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cand stau de veghe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nu stiu ce am,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ca nu ajung nicaieri,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cand merg.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nu stiu ce am,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ca stand pe loc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sunt, hat, departe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Doamne, din ce fel de huma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;M-ai luat in palmele tale calde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Si cu ce fel de saliva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ai amestecat si-ai framantat huma-mi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;De nu stiu ce am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ca exist,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nu stiu ce am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ca nu mai am nimic,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Decat pe tine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Ceva ca rugaciunea -Marin Sorescu)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEsz1XZzDI/AAAAAAAAAZo/DrBgrFsl0dI/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359614300557790258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 289px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEsz1XZzDI/AAAAAAAAAZo/DrBgrFsl0dI/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEszX9YDiI/AAAAAAAAAZg/Islqfgr6DgA/s1600-h/UOe4D4clupedwvdv8FBvgbmYo1_500%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359614292663995938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 396px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEszX9YDiI/AAAAAAAAAZg/Islqfgr6DgA/s400/UOe4D4clupedwvdv8FBvgbmYo1_500%5B1%5D.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/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEszUthYcI/AAAAAAAAAZY/8YE2O4yRK6s/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359614291792191938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEszUthYcI/AAAAAAAAAZY/8YE2O4yRK6s/s400/2.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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEszMKJbpI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/Uo9_O8cDVjY/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359614289496338066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 282px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEszMKJbpI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/Uo9_O8cDVjY/s400/3.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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEsywhjXiI/AAAAAAAAAZI/OYslY9TaCMA/s1600-h/3587085430_918c81d87c_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359614282078314018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 282px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEsywhjXiI/AAAAAAAAAZI/OYslY9TaCMA/s400/3587085430_918c81d87c_o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needing...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never shared this feeling of vaporizaton, of complete...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Abandon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's like with every breath, with every step, I'm transforming, losing a bit, consuming...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And there's silence, and lonlieness, and sadness, and emptiness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then comes myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, my hair... my hair it curls so nice in the summer... and it shines...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"[...]...but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday. " (American Beauty)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="46" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/fllo/0ea1703ba41cd5.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/fllo/0ea1703ba41cd5.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Louis Armstrong-What a wanderful world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Muzica" href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-6244922886094646536?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/6244922886094646536/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=6244922886094646536&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6244922886094646536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6244922886094646536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/where-should-i-go-if-earths-only-place.html' title='Where should I go, if Earth&apos;s the only place I know?'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SmEv_0VV6ZI/AAAAAAAAAZw/cr8m-JH8Uew/s72-c/moi+(2).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-6948884669730909097</id><published>2009-07-14T13:34:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T13:35:15.132+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/54Le2mrbg2E&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/54Le2mrbg2E&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-6948884669730909097?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/6948884669730909097/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=6948884669730909097&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6948884669730909097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6948884669730909097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-3974639658998271368</id><published>2009-07-14T13:22:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T13:41:08.668+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ciorne'/><title type='text'>Dialoguri si intamplari cu Zana (ep.2)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SlxbCjo1PmI/AAAAAAAAAYI/ZW0r6cJr6Zw/s1600-h/hhhh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358257756148416098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 264px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SlxbCjo1PmI/AAAAAAAAAYI/ZW0r6cJr6Zw/s320/hhhh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - Ah de cand vroiam sa te intalnesc!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Zau, cum asa?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Am nevoie sa faci o magie pentru mine...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Esti sigura ca nu poti sa te descurci singura?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Nu prea cred. E vorba despre ceva prea ciudat ce mi se intampla. Nici nu stiu cum sa-ti explic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Incearca!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Am impresia ca imi fura altii visele. Am impresia ca oricat m-ar admira, defapt iau cate putin din mine...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Si nu-i asa ca ti se pare ca uneori viata e ironica?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Ba da..aaa..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Continua, continua..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- E ironic,da...Nu ma consum atat de mult, dar e imposibil sa nu observ ce se intampla, sunt vise marunte cred..dar odata ce le exprim, se implniensc dar nu mie. Undeva ceva merge prost! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- De acord! Foarte prost! Insa, ei impliniesc visele exact cum ai face-o tu?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Hmm..nu,ei doar le ating, nu as putea spune ca le implinesc, e un cuvant prea complex..e ca si cum le-ar bifa..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Tu de ce crezi ca se intampla asta?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Asta te intreb eu pe tine, eu &lt;em&gt;nu am nici o idee&lt;/em&gt;..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Nici o idee&lt;/em&gt;...suna cunoscut...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Deci?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Eu zic ca porneste de la o ipostaza favorabila a ta pe care o scapi de sub control.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- De ce?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Pentru ca esti prea...naiva.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Poftim?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Voi oamenii...sunteti minunati, dar stiti si sa va raniti atat de bine intre voi. Uite ce e, sentimentul ce-l traiesti este real, insa fundamentele lui nu au logica.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Daca sunt visele tale numai tu le poti implini, tu ai spus-o..ceilalti doar le fura, sau asa ti se pare tie. Implinirea insa, o poti atinge doar tu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Atunci de ce..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Pentru ca tu esti printre putinii care stralucesc atat de tare cand esti fericita...incat contaminezi. Se bucura cu tine si pentru tine, insa uneori si unor oameni li se altereaza sentimentele exact ca vinul ce se oteteste, e natura umana...si chimie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Mda...pff!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- ...pentru ca nu exista oameni rai, sunt doar alterari de care uneori nu mai pot scapa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Si cum recapat controlul de care vorbeai?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- E foarte fina linia intre cat poti controla si cat nu...pentru ca lucurile sunt pozitive pana la un punct. Tu ai atata energie si nu stii sa o dozezi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Aici ai putea sa ma ajuti!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Sigur,sigur...rezolvam, nu-s eu Zana aici?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Si ce mai fac cu cei 'alterati'?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Pot sa iti ia din vise cat vor, pot sa incerce sa fie ca tine, pot sa iti ia prietenii, iubitii, vorbele, ideile si ce vor ei...adevarul e ca nu vor fi decat niste paiate ridicole..si nu trebuie sa te preocupi tu de cum vor decurge lucurile pentru ei, viata are caile ei.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Pai si cum sa-i las sa...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Ce e al tau numai tu poti implini, vis sau orice este...Ma auzi?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Aud, aud! Dar nu inteleg..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Vei intelege...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Nu te mai ingrijora pentru niste imitatii proaste care rezulta sau vor rezulta. O domnisoara curajoasa si frumoasa ca tine nu-si face astfel de probleme, nu isi pierde increderea. Concetreaza-ti energia si vezi-ti de drum, vor cadea toate figurinele de carton si vei ramane cu oamenii adevarati.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- E frumos ce spui tu dar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Tu poti sa schimbi oamenii in bine. Ai facut-o si o vei mai face si asta e minunat. Am dreptate?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- uhm..da..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Mereu te vei intalni cu unii care ar vrea sa aibe darul asta al tau fara sa fie macar constienti de asta, dar asculta ce-ti spun, sunteti putini. Si darul asta oricat ar incerca si oricat ti s-ar parea nu ti-l pot fura.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Eh,nici macar nu ma cunosti...si vorbeam despre visele si dorintele mele.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Eu stiu multe depre tine, despre cum ai schimbat persoane si ele nu au avut timp sa-ti multumeasca, pentru totul pare prea uman sa fie real. Si crede-ma, niciuna dintre acelea nu te-ai uitat. Nu lasa asta sau paiatele din jur sa te opreasca din a fi tu. Daca deschizi ochii si maine dimineata insemna ca ai ceva important de indeplinit. Iar despre vise si dorinte, ocupa-te tu de implinirea lor si lasa-i pe altii,fie si le cladesc pe ale lor proprii, fie continua sa fie ridicoli in jocul lor. Stii cand iti zicea taica-tu ca faci parte din cei putini si demni si sa nu te confunzi cu prostimea?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Stiu..dar tu de unde...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- La fel iti zic, nu te counfunda cu cei multi care se conformeaza in viata banala, in rutina, de dragul sigurantei sentimentelor sau a zilei de maine...of, 'siguranta' asta e iluzia cu care voi oamenii va imbatati cel mai des si pierdeti ce-i mai frumos din viata. Nu cred ca iti dai seama cat de curajoasa ai fost pana acum si cat de puternica esti.Nu te compara, nu te masura, nu te raporta la ceva ce ai depasit de mult. Bai, tu m-auzi?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Da!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Stai asa nu te misca, ai un puf pe frunte&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jaaap!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Auuuu!...Zano!? Unde ai disparut?&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/4033569166275896948-3974639658998271368?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/3974639658998271368/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=3974639658998271368&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3974639658998271368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3974639658998271368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/dialoguri-si-intamplari-cu-zana-ep2.html' title='Dialoguri si intamplari cu Zana (ep.2)'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SlxbCjo1PmI/AAAAAAAAAYI/ZW0r6cJr6Zw/s72-c/hhhh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7456747999860369936</id><published>2009-07-13T01:12:00.010+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T21:32:51.822+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ciorne'/><title type='text'>Dialoguri si intamplari cu Zana (ep.1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Slpg3R6TzZI/AAAAAAAAAX4/KI5RbQCJ-yE/s1600-h/jjjo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357701209527668114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 152px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 338px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Slpg3R6TzZI/AAAAAAAAAX4/KI5RbQCJ-yE/s400/jjjo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;- Buna ziua, sunteti Zana?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Da, eu sunt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- hmm..Imi pare bine, Dandanescu V.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Pareti cam nedumerit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- uhmm..Nu prea aratati ca o zana.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Ati vazut vreodata una?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- ..aaa, pai...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Poate cand erati copil, sau, stiu eu, in vise?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Din folclor stiu ca zanele sunt blonde, au aripi, fac vraji sunt rapitor de frumoase...Nu ca as vrea sa va jignesc nu ma intelegeti gresit, e vorba despre un anumit tip de frumusete, a dumneavoastra e mai degraba...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Stati linistit..nu ma deranjeaza remarcile facute, sunt absolut normale. Spuneti-mi mai bine ce va aduce pe la mine?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Pai, eu cred ca sunteti singura solutie care mi-a mai ramas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Pentru?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Sunt foarte nefericit. Sunt intr-un moment al vietii in care nimic nu pare sa aibe sens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Pai nimic nu are sens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Cum sa nu...toate clipele cand totul pare ca se leaga, sa merga din plin. Cand zambesti, esti multumit si abia astepti sa vina ziua de maine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Prostii! Acelea sunt iluzii...Acum defapt sunteti lucid&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Ce tot spui? Asta vreau de la tine Zano...sa imi aduci din nou fericirea, sensul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Hmm..nu cred ca ati auzit ce-am zis mai devreme. Dar spuneti-mi, cum sa va aduc eu fericirea?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Eu vreau raspunsuri, nu intrebari. Ce fel de Zana esti?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Spune ce-ti doresti, pune-ti o dorinta! Suna mai familiar acum?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Vreau sa-si recapate sensul viata mea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Nu si l-a pierdut niciodata, pentru nu a existat niciodata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Imi spui ca alerg dupa ceva ce nu a existat niciodata, alerg dupa iluzii?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Nu puteati sa o spuneti mai bine. V-am spus ca sunteti lucid acum!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Deci vreti sa visati din nou? Nu va place realitatea? Corect?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Vreau sa fiu treaz, lucid si sa fiu si fericit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Se cam exclud reciproc, insa o Zana nu spune niciodata ca ceva e Imposibil, va veti convinge singur.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Mai bine plec, va multumesc pentru nimic! Am uitat ca zanele sunt si cam proaste.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Ne revedem! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Sper ca nu!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zana formeaza un numar: - Alo, buna ziua doamna Dandanescu, am rezolvat, V. nu mai crede in zane.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="46" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/tigru007/0b147feffe85a8.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/tigru007/0b147feffe85a8.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Robbie Williams -Supreme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Diverse" href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Diverse"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7456747999860369936?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/7456747999860369936/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=7456747999860369936&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7456747999860369936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7456747999860369936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/dialoguri-si-intamplari-cu-zana-ep1.html' title='Dialoguri si intamplari cu Zana (ep.1)'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Slpg3R6TzZI/AAAAAAAAAX4/KI5RbQCJ-yE/s72-c/jjjo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-1936379831205204781</id><published>2009-07-09T17:26:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T21:32:43.013+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'>Nu ma oglindesc...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SlX_xFvPohI/AAAAAAAAAXw/jLt49MGg2VY/s1600-h/blocks_image_3_1%5B1%5D.png"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356468550646080018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SlX_xFvPohI/AAAAAAAAAXw/jLt49MGg2VY/s320/blocks_image_3_1%5B1%5D.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Am cumparat cartea postala ilustrata cu "Portait de Francoise" a lui Pablo Picasso cand am fost la muzeul omonim din Barcelona pentru ca mi s-a parut ca seamna cu mine, nu neaprat fizic cat prin starea suprinsa. Am asezat-o in raftul din biblioteca si ma uit la ea destul de rar. Azi, m-am regasit aproape oglindita privind-o.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nu poti sa atingi o stare,nu poti sa o descrii, nu poti sa o exprimi...asa cum nu pot eu acum.Toate momentele cand te uiti in oglinda si iti juri sa fi altfel, mai bun, mai curjos. Cand iti interzici sa pierzi cu un aer definitiv de parca a pierde este cel mai rau lucru. Sentimentul ca esti complet golit, pustiu, un vid surd pe care il umpli cu zgomote, orice zgomote numai sa acoperi tacerea. Nu, asta nu e depresie, e una dintre senzatiile cele mai vii ca exist; atata timp cat ma pot privi pe mine insami in ochi. E vorba despre lucruri simple pe care nu mi le recunosc.Oricat imi place Clarissa din Mrs. Dalloway who "bought the flowers herself", nu mai gandesc ca ea. Nu suport mincinosii si ipocritii, ii simt, (probabil de asta ma apropii de asa putini oameni), atunci de ce aleg sa ma mint pe mine? Nevoia de a fi "centrul universului"(vb. lui C.) raportat la macar un reper, este normala in natura umana egoista si vanitoasa, si desi intr-un test stupid pe care mi l-am facut odata eram caracterizata intr-un cuvant prin "selfless" (mi s-a parut un cuvant atat de frumos), nu mai pot sa astept la rand. Daca sunt &lt;em&gt;slefless &lt;/em&gt;ma intreb &lt;em&gt;where is myself?&lt;/em&gt; Cate putin in fiecare om la care tin, in fiecare actiune in care ma implic, e un defect cred, pentru ca eu nu raman cu nimic si nu primesc, sau nu stiu sa primesc nimic. Puff! Magie! nu mai ramane din mine nimic.. si iluziile nu au reflectie in oglinda. Si deci nu ma mai uit in oglinda, si nu mai fac juraminte definitive..nu mai am resurse. Un sentiment de indepartare de tot, ma urmareste,undeva unde sa nu mai stie nimeni nimic de mine. Nu se incadreaza nicaieri, nici la curaj, nici ca lasitate, e sinceritatea de care fac eu atata caz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Poate sunt inca un copil imatur si trebuie sa ma descurc singura ca sa ma crediteze unii, am s-o fac si p-asta, dar eu nu am nevioe sa-mi demostrez ca pot. Intodeauna am stiut in sinea mea de ce sunt capabila si am fost cea mai activa si sincera "majoreta" a mea. Pe de alta parte, poate sunt mai matura un pic decat ar trebui sa fiu la varsta mea. Poate ca Nichita o spunea mai bine: "Nu ma realizez deplin niciodata,/pentru ca/am o idee din ce în ce mai buna/despre viata."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Untill someone cares, I'll start caring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-1936379831205204781?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/1936379831205204781/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=1936379831205204781&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1936379831205204781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1936379831205204781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/nu-ma-oglindesc.html' title='Nu ma oglindesc...'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SlX_xFvPohI/AAAAAAAAAXw/jLt49MGg2VY/s72-c/blocks_image_3_1%5B1%5D.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-796631724910492150</id><published>2009-07-09T00:28:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T21:32:27.117+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scenariu scurt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ciorne'/><title type='text'>Momente importante</title><content type='html'>Apasa clanta, impinge usa si odata cu ea aerul mai rece, pentru a patrunde din nou pe holul sufocant. Trecerea simbolica catre orice va urma. Nici un chip familiar nu se zarea, asa ca vocea a inceput sa vorbeasca in interior deodata, dar despre nimic concret. "Care sunt momentele importante?" "Ce conteza in momentele astea?"."- Uite poseta!, ii zice cineva. "-Da, poseta...". Interior:"Sa sun?" Asa face toata lumea...sa-i sun pe oamenii care se gandesc la mine..."&lt;br /&gt;Se indreapta usor catre capatul holului unde era mai multa lumina, mai mult aer. "Toate gandurile astea...am sa sun si am sa-i zic lui mama ca fost bine, nu ce simt, la fel lui tata. Am noroc, am...sau? Poate cele mai mari tristeti stau in spatele aprentelor normale si nu chiar in tragediile cele mai evidente."&lt;br /&gt;Inca un pas cu telefonul in mana, inca un pas si niste ganduri: "ce naibii faci in momentele importante? cum le recunosti? cine zice? doar simti ca te sufoca pana peste cap pentru ca nu poti sa vezi dincolo de ele? Mereu oamenii au vrut sa marcheze momente: sa mancam, sa bem, sa ne sunam, sa ne inconjuram de iubirea celor din jur, prea mult spus..poate doar de prezenta unora. Momentul important ti-l cladesti cu atata atentie, il planifici, il regizezi uneori...trebuie sa fie perfect! Oricum trebuie marcat si mai ales trebuie impartasit. De ce nu suni cand te trezesti de dimineata si nu mai sti ce zi e pentru cateva minute? Momente marcante, importante...momente...etape. Ce-ar fi sa suni sa spui 'ma simt ca dracu'! si nu stiu de ce', asta nu e un moment important..Oamenii pentru care contez..."&lt;br /&gt;Arunca o privire telefonului si intr-o clipa, cu o miscare hotarata, il izbeste de pamant cu toata forta din bratul drept. Bucatele de plastic se imprastie pe podea, tastatura a patinat vreun metru pana langa un scaun...toti se opresc din forfota la auzul zgmotului si se uita catre sursa ce l-a produs. "Ce-ai patit? Cum a fost acolo?", intreaba cineva. Se uita catre ei, zambeste, imbraca un chip senin si raspunde: "Excelent!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-796631724910492150?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/796631724910492150/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=796631724910492150&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/796631724910492150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/796631724910492150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/momente-importante.html' title='Momente importante'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-2902109074765646896</id><published>2009-07-07T10:28:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T00:58:14.918+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='made me cry today'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Don't even know why...but today I feel for this song, maybe because "one day I'll understand"...'till then "marching, marching."&lt;br /&gt;and I can't explain how completly infatuated I am with Lauryn Hill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ktgHNJ4RmIY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ktgHNJ4RmIY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-2902109074765646896?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/2902109074765646896/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=2902109074765646896&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2902109074765646896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/2902109074765646896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/dont-even-know-why.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-493311280432049463</id><published>2009-07-04T00:16:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T00:59:07.970+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'>craving for...Poetry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sk51TYtct4I/AAAAAAAAAXg/hI3e4HeOf4I/s1600-h/Inquisition_by_hellolikegoodbye%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354345982901139330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sk51TYtct4I/AAAAAAAAAXg/hI3e4HeOf4I/s400/Inquisition_by_hellolikegoodbye%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I HIDE myself within my flower, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;That wearing on your breast, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;You, unsuspecting, wear me too— &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And angels know the rest. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hide myself within my flower, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;That, fading from your vase, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;You, unsuspecting, feel for me &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Almost a loneliness. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Emily Dickinson&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-493311280432049463?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/493311280432049463/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=493311280432049463&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/493311280432049463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/493311280432049463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/craving-forpoetry.html' title='craving for...Poetry'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sk51TYtct4I/AAAAAAAAAXg/hI3e4HeOf4I/s72-c/Inquisition_by_hellolikegoodbye%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-8859033942439144546</id><published>2009-07-01T11:46:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T00:59:28.698+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Haina asta ce-o port, mi-a ramas mica, ma strange, ma impiedica sa ma misc liber. Si nu stiu cu ce sa o schimb pentru ca gasesc tare greu un model care sa mi se potriveasca. Si-apoi cum sa raman dezbracata pe vremea asta?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-8859033942439144546?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/8859033942439144546/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=8859033942439144546&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8859033942439144546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8859033942439144546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/07/haina-asta-ce-o-port-mi-ramas-mica-ma.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-1240068287933647782</id><published>2009-06-30T00:54:00.012+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T00:59:45.238+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='întâmplări neîntâmplătoare'/><title type='text'>Nu stiu inca..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;M-a rugat un nene sa scriu un articol despre fetele singure, din perspectiva mea, la varsta mea. I-am spus ca 'nu'. Cine sunt eu, Beyonce? sa le zic sa "put a ring on it!" sau sa-l calce pe cap pe bou? Nu prea ma intereseaza asta plus ca eu nu sunt singură. Si ma inteleg numai eu cand spun asta. S-a uitat la mine cu o privire de doctor (cumva cunoscatoare si cercetatoare in acelasi timp) si a zis sa incerc, macar si pentru ca este vesica drama a femeilor si una din cele mai mari "frici" ale oamenilor: aceea de singuratate. Apoi, a mers mai departe spunandu-mi ca pot sa tratez mai in profunzime subiectul, sa vorbesc despre cum e la 20 de ani treaba cu iubirea, cu viata de cuplu. I-am spus ca nu, nu! ca asta e mai rau decat atunci cand trebuia sa scriu pentru un ziar economic, ca nu stiu eu,ca nu cunosc. A zambit iar superior ca si cum ar intelege tot si mi-a spus sa citesc o carte, scuzandu-se ca nu mi-o poate imprumuta caci a piedut-o intr-o intamplare nefericta, dupa spusele lui. I-am spus, ca 'bine, bine', ca-mi pare rau, ca nu putem colabora, dar a obtinut promisiunea mea ca voi citi cartea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am fost de-am cumparat-o si am citit-o iarasi in cateva ore. Modul cum citec in ultmul timp as putea sa-l compar cu cel de dupa o perioada de abstinenta indelungata in care mi-au lipsit atat de mult sursele placerii, incat acum in disponibilitate (atat a mea cat si a sursei) le consum total si cat mai repede.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar ce-am citit in seara asta nu poate fi redat aici, nici macar nu pot sa zic ca m-a facut sa scriu respectivul articol, defapt acum am serioase dubii ca asta era scopul. Nu pentru ca ai sentimentul ala egoist ca te regasesti, sau ca unele povesti merita sa fie transcrise si chiar ecranizate...ci pentru ca...efectiv m-a lasat fara cuvinte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Am gasit nu numai raspunsuri, dar si comportamente, am gasit o sursa de insipiratie, am inteles ca cineva anume a mai citit cartea asta candva si am ras, am zambit si apoi imi venea sa-njur foarte rau, dar foarte rau si sa iau un buchet imens din cele mai sensibile flori rupte si moarte ( ce triste sunt buchetele de flori) si sa sa-l fac praf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Finalul fericit mi-a placut insa si m-a linistit intr-un fel pe care il constientizez totusi a fi trecator. Pentru ca in vietile nostre nu stim nicodata cand e finalul ala fericit si pentru ca ajungem mereu sa traim si ceea ce se intampla dupa si astfel niciodata nu ajungem sa fim lucizi in clipa de dupa ce inchidem cartea sau de dupa genericul de final in care suntem multumiti ca binele a invins raul.&lt;br /&gt;Privind cartea, desi multi ar spune ca este despre pasiune sau despre dragoste eu zic ca este despre maturizare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Inca nu stiu daca sa multumesc sincer pentru recomandare sau doar din politete si inca nu stiu de ce se intampla toate..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-1240068287933647782?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/1240068287933647782/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=1240068287933647782&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1240068287933647782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1240068287933647782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/06/nu-stiu-inca.html' title='Nu stiu inca..'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5294210283965915868</id><published>2009-06-26T09:53:00.016+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T01:00:20.717+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scenariu scurt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ciorne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'>Discurs - absolvire '09</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SkR3U5GyICI/AAAAAAAAAXY/PSWgf_W2MqU/s1600-h/994990-001%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351533458033352738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SkR3U5GyICI/AAAAAAAAAXY/PSWgf_W2MqU/s400/994990-001%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SkR3E4d2xUI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/QW1K3GTBOnk/s1600-h/994990-001%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Dragi colegi, onorati profesori, prieteni si parinti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asisitam la debutul unei noi ere.Un moment al timpurilor noastre in care nu ne mai desfasuram activitatile constransi de granitele nationale, este timpul in care informatia este transmisa cu viteza conexiunilor creierului, astazi toate domeniile stiintifice arata o dezvoltare si o interconectare cum nu s-a mai vazut pana acum. Astazi cand tehnologia schimba comportamente si scocietati, cand Lumea devine un "sat mai mare", cand comportamentul uman devine un produs, cand pacea si razboiul devin produse, e o lume inca plina de probleme, dar oare este ea si mai constienta de greselile trecutului?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;In contextul acesta, al unui mediu global in continua schimbare la o viteza ametitoare, noi ne aflam acum in Romania, Constanta - un oras cu o populatie de 310 468 persoane (minus 1, adica eu care nu sunt inregistrata in evidenta populatiei), cu 5 universitati si peste 50 000 studenti anual. Suntem intr-o universitate de doar 19 ani vechime.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Care este rolul acestei institutii? Care ar fi rolul meu ca profesor? Cum as putea realiza acesta meserie in cel mai bun mod cu putinta? Cum imi influentez studentii? care este nevoie externa a societii pe care o indeplinesc? --- Am inceput facultatea de 3 ani, si in acest timp nu am simtit in niciun fel si in nicun moment ca aceste intrebari s-ar formula in mintea profesorilor mei, sau ca le-ar acorda vreo valoare...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Pentru o tara si un oras care se afla in continua tranzitie si dezvoltare, care este in permanenta cautare de resursa umana bine calificata, care doreste sa acceseze fonduri europene, care contribuie la mentinerea pacii in lume...nu am simtit in niciun moment intentia profesorilor nostrii de a oferii si a dezvolta ceea ce se numeste leadership.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Termenul este strain atat profesorilor cat si studentilor.( ce exceptiile de rigoare si Da! il gasiti in DEX-ul din 2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Profesorii nu ofera informatii de baza despe cum invata adultii. Cateodata ma simt ca intr-o pestera primitiva unde presupusul lider al grupului incerca sa deseneze o sculptura pe perte pentru a-i invata pe celilalti cum sa manance bine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Profesori care vin la cursuri cu materiale didactice care arata incredibil de similar de la un an la&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SkRzoRTrf_I/AAAAAAAAAXA/JoAMET8njSY/s1600-h/med424048%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351529392900898802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SkRzoRTrf_I/AAAAAAAAAXA/JoAMET8njSY/s200/med424048%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt; altul, dictandu-le , adica cititdu-le si cateodata avand un monolog liber...Fara niciun altfel de logistica, sau activare a functiilor creierului, fara a fi nevoie de opinii individuale, fara nici o intentie sau plan de a-l invata pe student o lectie in timpul cursului pentru ca acestia sa nu studieze singur cu maxim o zi inainte de examen...&lt;br /&gt;Nicio intentie de a dezvolta abilitati practice, de a face mai mult decat a petrece timpul livrand niste informatii pe cale orala care de altfel (vorba intaiului om in stat) pot fi gasite cu usurinta pe internet. Nici o intetie de a fi un exemplu...un mentor, un coach. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Pe de alta parte suntem mandrii de onorabilii nostrii oameni de stiinta, intelectuali foarte apreciati...profesori, doctori si alte titulaturi. Se pare ca insa sunt prea intelectuali pentru a-si face meseria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nu pentru bani, nu pentru statut, nu pentru putere, nu pentru ca nu stiu sa faca altceva...ci pentru a "crea" oameni independeti si capabili, care pot da forma lumii in care traim, care pot decide viata pe care o vor duce neoptii si stranepotii lor. Nu am simtit ca este constientizata acesta stare de fapt. Nu am vazut pic de pasiune pentru ceea ce se presupune a fi unul dintre cele mai importante roluri in societate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nu pot sa inteleg avaria, ipocrizia si lipsa de integritate in exercitatrea acestei meseri, Ba nu, rectific: Nu pot sa o tolerez! Va transforma in nulitati, in primul rand ca oameni si implicit ca practicanti al unei profesii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Jocurile politice sunt mai importante decat a preda bine, independeta financiara si narcisismul intelectual sunt mai presus decat a schimba in bine un student, de a avea o discutie individuala cu el, de ai oferi un sfat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Cum este posibil ca termeni precum inteligenta, coruptia, ignorantia, educatia si incompetenta si multi alti termeni sa stea unul langa altul si mai mult, cum pot ei sa se lege pentru a oferi leadership societatii?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SkRz59Tbb3I/AAAAAAAAAXI/hsq2LKSgp5k/s1600-h/83658310%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351529696768782194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SkRz59Tbb3I/AAAAAAAAAXI/hsq2LKSgp5k/s200/83658310%5B2%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Stau aici alaturi de colegii mei, la sfrasitul a ceea ce ar fi trebuit sa fie "perioada in care ne pregatim pentru viata". Totusi, foarte putini dintre ei, (chiar si cei cu notele cele mai mari) au vreo idee despre ceea ce vor face in urmatoarele luni, in urmatorul an sau peste 5 ani. Nici macar o imagine vaga a unei viziuni. Majoritatea dintre ei nici nu se cunosc pe sine. Nu si-au pus niciodata intrebarile potrivite pentru ca nimeni nu i-a indrumat sa o faca; abia daca isi cunosc propriile valori si principii. Nu au pasit in afara acelui "minim ncesar", dar asta si pentru ca nimeni nu le-a aratat ca se poate mai mult. Nu le pasa de probelemele globale, nici macar de cele locale. Nu au un drum al carierei clar pe care sa-l urmeze, si o parte nu au lucrat niciodata si nu au foat la nicun interviu. Abia daca pot produce ganduri originale, pentru ca au fost "invatati" sa nu o faca. Studieaza pentru examene cu o zi sau doaua inainte ca acesta sa aibe loc, perioada in care cuvantul "studiu" sau "invatat" este folosit in cel mai gresit mod cu putinta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;As fi vrut sa am cuvinte de multumire... Insa cursurile si cartile pe care le-am citit in acesti ani si invatarea nu fost decat niste acte solitare sau de voluntariat. Mi-ar fi placut sa asist la un eveniment de absolvire in care liderii studentilor sa fie cu adevarat capabili sa tina un discurs de absolvire. Mi-ar fi placut sa am consditii mai bune si mai salubre in universitate, mi-ar fi placut ca profesorii sa nu ne mai subestimeze intelectual, mi-ar fi placut sa fi avut cursurile actualizate cu cerintele curente, mi-ar fi placut sa fiu intr-adevar indrumata sa-mi concep licenta si nu plimbata pe drumuri dupa profesor sau macar odata sa discut cu acesta despre fondul lucrarii si nu despre forma, mi-as fi dorit ca incompetenta, avaria si corputia sa fie inlocuite cu o cursa catre performanta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Si da...mi-as fi dorit ca acest discurs sa fi fost rostit...chiar atunci...la ceremonia de absolvire...ar fi fost ca aroma unui dezinfectant puternic impotriva mirosului infect de ipocrizie adunat acolo, intr-o universitate mediocra, dar,si mai grav, lipsita de integritate&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LE.:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object height="46" width="448"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/SamoilaC/c25f0ca471df6b.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/SamoilaC/c25f0ca471df6b.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ada milea-Ra-ta-ta &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5294210283965915868?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/5294210283965915868/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=5294210283965915868&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5294210283965915868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5294210283965915868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/06/discurs-absolvire-09.html' title='Discurs - absolvire &apos;09'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SkR3U5GyICI/AAAAAAAAAXY/PSWgf_W2MqU/s72-c/994990-001%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-5138167120371306270</id><published>2009-06-18T01:20:00.020+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T11:59:04.126+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='made me smile today'/><title type='text'>E' una catena ormai</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Motto: "- Ce vrei sa te faci cand o sa fii mare?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Fericita..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZcAFrVkpSnM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZcAFrVkpSnM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Comments are off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-5138167120371306270?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5138167120371306270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/5138167120371306270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/06/e-una-catena-ormai.html' title='E&apos; una catena ormai'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-3466194542271080462</id><published>2009-06-16T21:28:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T21:29:56.063+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='made me cry today'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Cum mama naibii pot sa plang in timp ce ma uit la "Friends"?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-3466194542271080462?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/3466194542271080462/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=3466194542271080462&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3466194542271080462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3466194542271080462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/06/cum-mama-naibii-pot-sa-plang-in-timp-ce.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4763958874159684894</id><published>2009-06-14T06:06:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T17:02:17.284+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'>"Te iubesc, ne vedem mai tarziu!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347015578571056146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SjRqVsk1JBI/AAAAAAAAAWI/a1OWJrvNkvo/s320/madame___by_m0thyyku%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Pai da..pai nu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu prefer sa fac totul fix invers. Mi-am dezvoltat astfel o inclinatie patologica de a nu executa ceea ce mi se spune, de a ma revolta, de a protesta prin impotrivire. Stiu si de unde mi se trage, asa-s de perpicace! (pff..)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Imi place spiritul tau combativ" imi zice un nene dupa 2 mailuri. Pai da, dar oare? Pentru ce ma cert, ce-mi tot place? De ce ma tot feresc atat de clisee? Si pana la urma tot ce consider eu ca fiind cliseu e cliseu? adica, ce stiu eu? Eu oricum am o placere deosebita sa zic ca "nu-i asa!".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E asta un fel de a te minti pe tine insuti? Pai este, mai. BIG TIME! (cum ar zice chinezul)&lt;br /&gt;Revenind la clisee...Radeam mai de mult alaturi de C. despre mesajul predefinit pe telefonul meu care arata asa: "te iubesc, ne vedem mai tarziu!"(spus cu tot cu intonatie ironca si schimbarea voicii desigur). Hi-hi..'ce patetic' in sus, 'ce patetic' in jos...Am desfiintat ideea complet, de parca as fi stiut eu mai bine. Nu m-am gandit ca un mesaj predefinit precum acela ar putea fi ultimul mesaj pe care il poti primi de la expeditor. Atunci totul ar capata alta greutate si "mai tarziu" ar fi un illo tempore in care esti aruncat si care ar rasuna interogativ, dar cumva sigur in mintea ta. Tot o sa vina "mai tarziu" odata si odata, 'mai tarziu' poate fi aproape sau foarte departe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si o bomboana pe perna si o haina peste umeri sa nu racesti si o mana intinsa si un dans si un catec si o plimbare si o inima mare de plus pe care nu ai unde sa o pui si...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azi, in zi de vara...ma opresc din a rade de clisee, nu pentru totdeauna; dar azi...am sa presupun ca uneori cu totii avem nevoie de clisee.Pentru ca altfel nu-mi explic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS: Am scris o serie de texte dubioase zilele astea. Mintea mea are resurse nebanuite, hmm..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-4763958874159684894?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4763958874159684894/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4763958874159684894&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4763958874159684894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4763958874159684894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/06/te-iubesc-ne-vedem-mai-tarziu.html' title='&quot;Te iubesc, ne vedem mai tarziu!&quot;'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SjRqVsk1JBI/AAAAAAAAAWI/a1OWJrvNkvo/s72-c/madame___by_m0thyyku%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-8223183179437125505</id><published>2009-06-09T18:00:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T17:00:20.169+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'>Impotriva valului...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sh7Z-bCXCLI/AAAAAAAAAWA/inGFesPegDc/s1600-h/walking%2520alone%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340945874540759218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 265px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sh7Z-bCXCLI/AAAAAAAAAWA/inGFesPegDc/s400/walking%2520alone%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;...înaintez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-8223183179437125505?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/8223183179437125505/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=8223183179437125505&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8223183179437125505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8223183179437125505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/05/learning.html' title='Impotriva valului...'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sh7Z-bCXCLI/AAAAAAAAAWA/inGFesPegDc/s72-c/walking%2520alone%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7368922036256891806</id><published>2009-06-06T03:01:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T01:19:38.051+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='made me smile today'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='made me cry today'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Perfect love casts out fear. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where there is love there are no demands, no expectations, no dependency. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I do not demand that you make me happy; my happiness does not lie in you. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If you were to leave me, I will not feel sorry for myself.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I enjoy your company immensely, but I do not cling.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;- Anthony de Mello - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say: &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me learning :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7368922036256891806?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/7368922036256891806/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=7368922036256891806&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7368922036256891806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7368922036256891806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/06/perfect-love-casts-out-fear.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-3598602558717020708</id><published>2009-06-02T01:12:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T15:38:20.841+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scenariu scurt'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sh6bpWqpUwI/AAAAAAAAAV4/q3c6xjXSaNM/s1600-h/sinuciderea%2520fecioarei%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340877342869377794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 228px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sh6bpWqpUwI/AAAAAAAAAV4/q3c6xjXSaNM/s320/sinuciderea%2520fecioarei%5B2%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E si asta un fel de prostitutie...spune cealalta eu care sta pe marginea scaunului si asteapta sa devin iar lucida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Picioarele mele se desfac automat in fata incontestabilitatii falice a faptului ca niciodata nu am fost altfel decat singura...Da. E un fel de prostitutie. Ma daruiesc oricui imi da o doza din viata sa proprie. Un halucinogen care sa ma faca sa ma gandesc la altceva. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;La altceva decat la faptul ca viata e ca o lama de cutit- stralucitoare si taioasa- pe care o strang in brate cu putere pentru placerea stralucirii, dar mai ales pentru placerea sangerarii... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;cu drag,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Lulu &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;comments are off&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-3598602558717020708?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3598602558717020708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3598602558717020708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2008/12/e-si-asta-un-fel-de-prostitutie.html' title=''/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sh6bpWqpUwI/AAAAAAAAAV4/q3c6xjXSaNM/s72-c/sinuciderea%2520fecioarei%5B2%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7819014740063214343</id><published>2009-05-27T19:17:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T03:14:00.268+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'>Liniste...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/ShwWiNXpEMI/AAAAAAAAAVw/ENhd30T5Erw/s1600-h/6a00d8341c6a0853ef01157007a7dc970b-800wi%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340168035114750146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 388px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/ShwWiNXpEMI/AAAAAAAAAVw/ENhd30T5Erw/s400/6a00d8341c6a0853ef01157007a7dc970b-800wi%5B2%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...in mintea mea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://ohjoy.blogs.com/my_weblog/2009/04/sunset-balloons.html"&gt;sursa foto&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;comments are off&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7819014740063214343?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7819014740063214343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7819014740063214343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/05/liniste.html' title='Liniste...'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/ShwWiNXpEMI/AAAAAAAAAVw/ENhd30T5Erw/s72-c/6a00d8341c6a0853ef01157007a7dc970b-800wi%5B2%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-3344976147001016791</id><published>2009-05-22T05:44:00.008+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T17:09:58.344+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ciorne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='întâmplări neîntâmplătoare'/><title type='text'>Pe ce lume traiesti?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu realizez ca nu am nicio treaba cu "lumea". Parca-s de pe alta planeta. Trec printr-o perioada in care nu-mi gasesc locul, nu-mi gasesc oamenii, nu-mi gasesc starea. Ma uit mult pe geam, la oameni, tac mult, nu ma grabesc, nu ma mai impacienteaza nimic, ma intristez excesiv cand vad catei schiopatand sau oameni cu probleme, zambesc si rad in sinea mea de copiii mici care se-mpiedica pe strada. Citesc carti ciudate cu creionul in mana (si-n gura) intr-un ritm rusinos intrerupt fiind de lecturile cursurilor sub-mediocre. Eu am lumea mea, da.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nu-mi place nimic acum. Vreau mai mult si simt ca n-am cum. As pleca intr-un loc plin de oamenii cu mult mai destepti ca mine in care sa ma chinui sa tin pasul. Am nevoie de un mediu care sa ma incarce, din care sa iau, in care sa dau. Cat despre ce pot da unora, nu stiu...uneori cred ca nimeni nu accepta ajutorul meu fatis, prefera sa fure de la mine tot ce eu le-as oferi de bunavoie si mai mult. Asta nu-mi place. Ma secatuieste...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ma gandeam ca poate-i un fel al vietii de a rade de mine; ca nu-mi place "sa cresc" oameni, nu inteleg disciplina acestui proces, defapt nu-l vad ca pe un proces distinct. E paradoxul omului neintels care vrea sa dea, lumea crede tine numai pentru el, si atunci prefera sa-l "subtilizeze".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Iar despre ce pot da lumii, cred ca este o chestiune de alegeri&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nu vorbesc cu colegii de facultate prea mult spre deloc si atunci cand o fac parca primesc un ciocanel in cap:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Cum nu stii? (aici numele unui cataret sau formatie ceva) sunt vineri in wish si fetele au intarea libera. Pe ce lume traiesti ?! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Am trecut repede si agil peste situtia de mai sus, dar intrebarea m-a urmarit pana acasa si peste noapte. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Pe ce lume traiesc eu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In lumea mea:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Oamenii conteaza. Ei sunt speranta pentru un viitor mai bun. Ei sunt generatiile internetului, ale echipamentelor nucleare, ale evolutiei genetice, ale terorismului, ale HIV SIDA si ale ator probleme globale. Ei sunt genratiile care vor lupta impotriva a ceea e numit "Idiocracy".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Ceea ce dai e ceea ce primesti. Efortul este egal cu cresterea.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Oamenii fac lucruri fara a astepta sa fie laudati pentru asta.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Oamenii inteleg concepte precum: viziune si valori. Pe cand unii se invart in jurul lor precum niste albine in jurul florilor, altii stau direct pe ele. Se hranesc astfel si asta functioneaza.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Timpul si sptiul te transforma la nivelul valorilor.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Sunt atat de multe culori si forme ca nici macar Lijphart nu ar face comparatii sau clasificari.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. Fac macar efortul de a intelege trecutul, in timp ce ma confrunt cu prezentul si constuiesc viitorul.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8. Tot ceea ce esti reprezinta si tot ceea ce ai. Distantia intre cuvant si gand, gand si actiune. Nu intre prima si ultima nota de pe dipolma de absolvire.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9. Este compusa din experiente care duc la optiuni. Cu cat are mai multe optuni, cu atat omul simte ca viata merita traita.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10. Nu exista forma de superlativ pentru Intensitate. Greselile sunt pretioase, iar esecurile succese. Ignoranta e fortata sa-si ascunda chipul.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lumea mea este ca o cascheta de razboi. Cand am sa ies din ea, am sa pastrez cascheta si o sa-mi amintesc cat bine mi-a facut.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tu pe ce lume traiesti?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-3344976147001016791?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/3344976147001016791/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=3344976147001016791&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3344976147001016791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/3344976147001016791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/05/pe-ce-lume-traiesti.html' title='Pe ce lume traiesti?'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-6360578649849700848</id><published>2009-05-20T03:32:00.018+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T17:18:43.702+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='întâmplări neîntâmplătoare'/><title type='text'>Despre modele, idealuri si nevoi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/ShNRtRKqlqI/AAAAAAAAAVo/U453Z3NHuLM/s1600-h/moi.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337699821508269730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/ShNRtRKqlqI/AAAAAAAAAVo/U453Z3NHuLM/s320/moi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Stiu! stiu! Foarte urat si aparent ridicol sa pun poza asta cu mine si Cosmin Alexandru aici. (Aproape la fel de patetic ca si cei care au avatare peste tot impreuna cu iubitul/iubita.) De ce fac totusi acest gest care tinde sa ma arunce in zona derizoriului si a banalului spre kitch? Pentru ca asa mi-am inchipuit eu acest articol cand m-a lovit inspiratia. Simplu! Stiu ca destule persoane din cercul meu de cunostinte au si ele poze cu "subiectul" in cauza si mai important, au asistat si ele la discursuri sustinute de dumnealui (deci nu sunt mai deosebita din punctul asta de vedere),insa eu vreau sa spun o povestioara.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Desi paragraful de mai sus pare o justificare catre un public inexistent, el este de fapt un dialog interor al autorului(adica eu) necesar din cauza unor probleme "la mansarda" care sunt in curs de tratare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Acum un an si cateva luni o fata la vreo 20 ani abia impliniti, afla despre o "persoana importanta" in ceea ce insemna infiintarea organizatiei din care facea parte si despre posibilitatea de a-i lua un scurt interviu. Era vorba despre Cosmin Alexandu. Genul de fata care nu crede in impresii exagerate si pareri neavizate, ea a inceput sa caute cam tot ce se putea despre acest "personaj". Se zice ca atunci cand citesti despre cineva, sau scrierile sale, iti formezi o impresie deformata si, in cazul in care referintele sunt foarte bune, o impresie idealistica. Cam asa s-a intamplat si cu fata noastra, care stia de la date biografice exacte, viata profesionala pana la preferinte din cele mai ciudate depre cel ce avea sa-l intervievieze si practic ii devenise "fana" peste noapte. Mai trebuia mentionat si ca fetiscana in cauza, nu avea nicio idee despre cum se realizeaza un interviu, lucru care nu s-a schimbat semnificativ nici pana in ziua de azi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Vine si momentul intalnirii si al interviului. Toata frasuiala celor din jur de dinainte de interviu o enerva terbil pe pseudo-jurnalista noastra de ocazie. Lumea sa stragea in jurul lui, radeau fortat, se pozau, adresau tot felul de intrebari redundante de dragul conversatiei etc. fatarnicie, tupeu si superficialitate. Probabil, daca nu ar fi fost planificat un astfel de interviu, nici macar nu ar mai fi interactionat printre atata agitatie gratuita. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Interviul a decurs bineinteles, slab spre foarte slab, incepnd cu instrumentul de inregistrat care nu era de gasit si care a fost inlocuit in ultimul moment cu un telefon mobil, pana la calitatea intrebarilor pe care a fost in stare don'soara sa le adreseze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mintea fetei se creasera tot felul de asteptari legate de intalnire, diverse ganduri, de dorinte de a gasi raspunsuri la intrebari pe care nici macar nu le va adresa, dar care o framantau in interior. Cred ca astepta si o muzica de fundal odata cu emiterea raspunsurilor si o comprimare spontana a timpului, urmata pauze care sa marcheze vorbele de duh. Evident, nimic din toate acestea nu s-a intamplat. Nu s-a auzit nicio muzica, timpul s-a scurs in mod normal, domnul Alexandru i-a multumit, a zambit, i-a lasat o carte de vizita si a plecat. Nu a lasat in urma nicio revelatie, nicio tresarire, nimic. Dupa tot ce-si inchipuise, normalitatea asta venea ca un cotrast imens in mintea fetei, care statea pe canapea si astepta ca in capul ei sa incepa conexiunile. Nimic! Cum naibii poti sa ai mintea goala dupa ce vorbesti cu Cosin Alexandru? Chiar nimic? Nimic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da, e vorba despre mine. Multa vreme am purtat in minte un sentiment vecin cu dezamagirea legat de acest episod. Desi nu-mi formulasem clar anumite asteptari se pare ca mintea mea deja le setase. Si mintea fusese ajutata foarte mult de imaginatie (si ce imaginatie!). Nevoia mea si cred ca multor tineri, este aceea de a avea modele, sau macar persoane care sa-i inspire. Eu cel putin functionez asa. Modelele alese de mine sunt din cele mai inaccesibile si mai inalte, asta pentru ca am stil (as putea zice acum cu oarecare detasare) care merge spre "striving". Acel gen care niciodata nu e multumit, care mereu poate mai bine. Un stil cu doua taisuri, pentru desi poate fi privit ca o modalitate de dezvoltare continua si atigere de preformanta, este si calea care nu te lasa sa te bucuri cu adevarat de ceea ce esti in prezent. E nevoie autocunostere si sa fi un bun "pilot" al ceea ce se numeste viata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cred si sustin ca avem nevoie sa cititm mult, sa aflam despre personalitatile remarcabile ale istoriei, dar si sa ne uitam in jur la oamenii care acum ne pot inspira. Eu mai cred si in faptul ca exista o zestre a inspiratiei, a cunostintei, a cunosterii sub forma unei energii comune care transcende timpul istoric si la care cu totii avem acces odata ce ne preocupa cu adevarat ceva. Nevoia de a avea un model, un exemplu, o consider normala, insa cred ca acestea ar trebui sa fie doar catalizatori (precum invatam la chimie) care sa ne schimbe uneori culoarea, sa ne faca sa explodam, sa limpezeasca precipitatul de solutie etc. nicidecum obiect al imitatiei, sau al "venerarii" ca fiind ceva perfect si de necontrazis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revenind la Cosmin Alexandru, am urmarit in contiuare activitatea sa, interviurile ce le-a acordat, si mi-am dat seama cat de mult rezonez cu opiniile sale dar si actiunile pe care le-a intreprins. Zilele trecute imi povestea o amica despre interactinuea pe care a avut-o dumnealui la o conferinta pentru tineri exemplificandu-mi cu fragmente. Una dintre ideile transmise era aceea de "a-ti pune intrebri" in mod constant, mesaj pe care si eu l-am transmis intr-un filmulet pentru...oricine l-a vazut. Si am fost tare placut impresionata ca am acelesi credinte cu un om pe care il admir si că simtitm nevoia sa transmitem aceleasi lucruri atuci cand avem ocazia sa o facem. Nu incerc comparatii pentru ca nu poate fi vorba, insa mai demult ma plangeam de lipsa ecoului pentru gandurile mele si acum am primit un ecou in sfarsit, care m-a facut fericita, indiferent cat de tarziu a venit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si, cititdu-i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://cosminalexandru.ro/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;blogul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;, in articolul despre bucuriile simple, am gasit si raspunsul la intrebarea ce ma macina de mai bine de un an. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pesemne că lumea asta pune o presiune teribilă pe ei să se ia prematur foarte în serios, excesiv de în serios, dacă o invitaţie la o naturaleţe reconfortantă i-a marcat atât de pregnant&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La acel mini-dialog ce se dorea a fi interviu, Cosmin Alexandru m-a invatat &lt;strong&gt;FIRESCUL&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si intr-adevar e un lucru ce trebuie invatat pentru ca e clar ca eu nu il cunosteam (sau il uitasem prinsa il ceea ce eu credeam ca e realitate si ceea ce credeam ca insemna a construi inspre ideal) de vreme ce nu l-am recunoscut si nu l-am putut definii pana acum. Am tot spus ca apreciez autenticitatea la oameni, cred ca defapt despre acest firesc vorbeam,despre protectia fata de &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;asaltul urâtului, al proastei dispoziţii şi al proastei creşteri&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Se naste astfel o expresie interesanta, aparent contradictorie, accea ca: &lt;em&gt;Oamenii deosebiti sunt firesti&lt;/em&gt;. Si totodata, decid sa imi creez un nou mod de abordare a personaleor, incercand sa nu-mi mai creez false asteptari, dar si o noua atitudine, un alt stil, mai..firesc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asa ca, va multumesc domnule Cosmin Alexandru! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Si daca spuneati ca ati vota acum cu domnul Firescu, eu as zice ca va puteti imprumuta cu lejeritate si acest nume.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Plus ca nu ar suna rau: Cosmin Alexandru-Firescu.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-6360578649849700848?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/6360578649849700848/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=6360578649849700848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6360578649849700848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/6360578649849700848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/05/despre-modele-idealuri-si-nevoi.html' title='Despre modele, idealuri si nevoi'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/ShNRtRKqlqI/AAAAAAAAAVo/U453Z3NHuLM/s72-c/moi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-1529578556999913316</id><published>2009-05-13T02:08:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T15:52:35.224+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ciorne'/><title type='text'>The girls of summer ("Tie de cine iti place?")</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TmE3K3yJops&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TmE3K3yJops&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Si da...asta e un post imens si haotic despre amintiri, despre prietenii din copilarile si adolescenta pe care le-am pierdut undeva pe drum...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hei Anca, o mai tii minte pe Alina de la 4? De la ea a pornit toata navala asta de amintiri, cand am vazut-o ziele trecute in spatele blocului strigandu-si cei trei copii blonzi in franceza: Leo, Mili, Lulu allons-y!". S-a intrors sa-si viziteze parintii dupa 5 ani. cred ca a pornit si de la faptul ca vine vara si era anotimul nostru al fetelor, al vacantei, al plajei,al plimbarilor al primelor incercari, al nebuniilor, al curajului, al incercarii gustului de libertate...&lt;br /&gt;Dar s-o luam cronologic.&lt;br /&gt;Mai tii minte Anca, la gradinita cand m-ai intrebat de cine imi place si ti-am spotit la ureche dupa ce mi-ai promis ca nu zici nimanui: "de Coco!"...si apoi ai zis tuturor: "Lui Ady ii place de Cocoooo!". Cred ca te-am urat pentru moment, dar in timp am fost suficient de nemernica cat sa recuperez "imprudenta" de atunci. Am fost apoi peste ani cu Coco fata la Coco baiatul acasa, statea la gara intr-un apartament duplex si arata chiar foarte bine.&lt;br /&gt;Mai tii minte Anca, cand ne jucam in fata blocului? Era si Anca mica , tie ti se zicea Anca mare. Cum ieseam cu "presul" si ne jucam cu papusile. Stii cand vorbeam despre ce maini aspre are Anca mica? Ne-am intalnit apoi, cand eram in liceu odata la barul ala de vis-avis de Ovidius(cum naibii ii zice?) toate trei si tot la fel avea mainile si ne aminteam despre cum ne paruiam cand eram mici si ne bateam cand ne enervam(ofticam) din nici nu mai stiu ce motive. Acum cand ma gandesc am fost si niste fetite tare rautacioase si razgaiate, si alea raman pana acum cele mai dure paruieli din viata mea... Jocurile de-a Sailor Moon si Captain Planet? Mi-o amintesc si pe vareisoara ta Adina, era fana 3 sud est si cand a mai crescut devenise cea mai bad ass rockeritza.Il mai tii minte pe Dan (dan prostu' cum ii ziceam noi) cand ne-am mai batut si cu el si pe maica-sa Tanti Ioana? O doamne...:)) si acum imi vine sa rad, cand imi amintesc cat ne mai certa ca facem galagie si dadeam mingea in gradina ei. Il mai stii pe Cristi si fra-su Mirel? pe Iuli (chelu'), pe Aditza?(ah revelionul ala cand dansam pe Andre, BUG si eminem...ce mici eram!),pe baietastii de la C4 carora li se zicea "picii"? Il mai stii pe Cosmin si pe sora-sa Dana? Cum ieseam si ne jucam volei? sau jucam carti pe pedepse sau meseriile? sau atinsea..sau cate si mai cate...&lt;br /&gt;In locul uneia dintre alimentarele din statie si-a deschis tatal lor(al lui Cosmin si al Dnaei) casa de amanet. Dana, (parca era cu un an mai mica ca noi) conduce un Audi tt si e blonda platinata, iar Cosmin...(primul baiat care mi-a atins sanii, cred ca "ii placea de mine!" haha) conduce un wolkswagen passat si arata suprinzator de bine, a slabit si se imbraca la costum, l-am vazut saptamanile trecute. A da! Si am vazut-o si eu pe gagica lui Danette (dan prostu'), e foarte frumoasa.&lt;br /&gt;Apoi, am crescut pana in clasa la 7-8 si am devenit 3: Eu, tu si coco. Mai stii cand ne intalneam la tine sa dormim si vorbeam despre baieti?(celebra replica, dupa ce stingem lumina:"Hai sa vorbim despre baieti!") dansam si ne aranjam parul..Mai iti amintesti cand facem fiecare topul baietilor cu care ne-am sarutat(abia incepusem si noi cu primii 3-4) si toate 3 il avem pe primul loc pe acelasi tip? :)) (Andrei popa parca il chema). God!Parca dadea la liceul ala teologic.&lt;br /&gt;Mai stii Coco , cand ne urcam la tine pe bloc si ne jucam cu mingea? Nici acum nu pot sa inteleg gestul asta al nostru. Si perioada cand nu o puteam suferi pe Anca, iar nu imi explic/amintesc de ce si cate rautati faceam. Si cand maica-sa se lua de noi, ca de ce nu mai vorbim cu fii-sa. Si pe vecinul tau...George.(RIP)&lt;br /&gt;Dar pe Bogo, Anca sigur ti-l amintesti. Tot cartieru' stia ca tu si el va sarutati pentru prima oara si va dadeau sfaturi, ce show a fost! Mai apoi s-a complicat povestea cand Bogo s-a cuplat cu Raluca, prietena mea cea mai buna de la scoala...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mai tii mine Raluca? Cat de rele eram cu Anca, cum imi povesteai ce iti spunea Bogo despre ea, ca mirosea a ceapa cand o saruta? :)) Il mai tii minte Raluca pe tipul ala cu ochii albastrii de care ne placea noua de la 8C? Si ieseam in fiecare pauza sa ne uitam dupa el? Ii mai stii pe Valy (cat i-a mai placut de tine), pe Vicentiu(cat i-a mai placut de mine), pe Maxim(cat ia mai placut de...amandoua), pe Alex? aaa..ce vremuri!Mai stii cum ii cunosteam pe toti din clasa Ancai si radeau aia de mine...si-mi ziceau "prietena lui Oaie"(tipul ala funny looking de la ei).&lt;br /&gt;Mai tii minte apoi, cand treceam prin perioada baietilor de cartier(parazitii fans) din CET? Tu era cu John si eu cu Cristi. Bine eu eram de dragul tau, sa iesim la toti 4. Cristi era a lousy kisser si apoi eu am fost cu Dante si Vlad.(ceva mai bine! :))..Stii ca la liceu eram primele din clasa si astia credeau despre noi ca suntem cele mai cuminti tocilare. Mai stii cand ne-am promis ca nu o sa fim impreuna cu nimeni din clasa/liceu? Eu fost cu machidonul ala totusi...&lt;br /&gt;Le mai stii pe G. Si pe B.? Ce mitomane erau fetele alea, te intreceau pana si pe tine! De atunci cred ca am o reactie foarte urata la minciuna si mi-am dezvoltat un simt deosebit in a recunoaste oamenii prefacuti. Plus ca erau concucrenta noastra la note! :))&lt;br /&gt;Il mai stii pe Robert din Cumpana? Cum ai intrat in Crucea Rosie pentru el? Cat ai plans dupa el cand curatai cartofi, ca mai avea nu stiu cate gagicii si ca defapt vroia sa ajunga la mine fiind cu tine? O mai tii minte pe profa de romana care ne zicea: "fetelor, intodeauna baitul sa va iubeasca mai mult decat il iubiti voi pe el!" Ma intreb acum cum naibii cantareste si cum ne spunea atatea prostii noua? Cand am iesit cu ea si cu profa de educatie tehnologia in Primo in Mamaia...pfff cat am mai ras! :))&lt;br /&gt;Am trecut apoi, la inceputul facultatii prin "perioada rockerilor" :)). Sa nu dezvoltam aici! Tu oi mai fi cu Madalin? Parea ca sunteti chiar ok. Imi pare rau ca nu am ajuns sa o vizitez pe sora ta Alina, sa o felicit pentru cel mic, ii cuparasem si un constumas si o babetica. Nu stiu de ce mi-e asa greu sa ma intorc la ce a fost..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revin la tine Anca, mai stii cand ne-am promis ca o sa fim primele din clasa in scoala generala? Si am fost, fiecare il clasa ei! Ma gandesc acum ca nimic nu se compara cu competitia aia de atunci , cu ambitia aia pura, eram mici si ale naibii rau!Imi pare rau ca te-am mintit odata impreuna cu Raluca ca Valy vrea sa fie cu tine si te-am facut sa-l astepti in curtea scolii in soare vreo ora. Si am ras de tine mult atunci. Dar zau, ca am purtat pe constiinta fapta asta mea..si de atunci am inceput sa detest minciuna si nici cu Raluca nu mai sunt prietena acum, (she was the master of lies, si am cresct cu ea, figure that!)&lt;br /&gt;Mai stiti Anca si Coco, cand am crescut si ieseam vara toata ziua la plaja...si seara la plimbare si radeam de baietii care se dadeau la noi? Atunci am inceput noi sa ne prindem cum functioneaza lucurile. ;) Cand eram total obsedate de haine si de cum aratam? Cum facem schimb de haine? Costumele de baie cele mai ciudate si pantalonii cei mai scurti,vroiam sa ne facem piercinguri si tatuaje.. ne credeam sexy probabil...Vara cand nu aveam nicuna prieten dar ne sarutam cu tipi draguti total random? Eram "the tipical girls of summer". Le mai stiti pe Lusha, Oana Bica, veronica, Olivia, Vivi? Gasca mare de fete sexy de cartier...&lt;br /&gt;Si apoi au venit... primele nostre iubirii. La tine Anca, cred ca fost Camil, cu care am inteles ca mai esti si acum si ma bucur. Mi-a ramas in memorie o zi de natere a ta cand erai trista rau ca nu te sunase si iesiem sa ne plimbam si a trecut cu cielo al lui cel alb si te-a calxonat si a tipat dupa tine...erai topita. Coco cu Ciprian erati frumosi de tot impreuna, ultima oara cand am vorbit am inteles ca esti cu altcineva si te vei muta in bucuresti cu el. Si eu cu D. al meu, pff! Mi se pare asa de amuzat acum cand ma gandesc, ca prima mea dragoste avea porecla "minciuna"...Mda, pe sistemul.."cat am plans dupa el, dar si el dupa mine" supravietuiesc si astazi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cate fragmente insiruite aiurea...si cate ar mai fi de scris inca...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S-au schimbat atat de multe cu mine si mai mult ca sigur si cu voi..."Ady" intre timp a mai crescut, pentru unii a fost Adriana, mai apoi pentru altii "Zana"...toate identitatile s-au amestecat, pe toate le-am pastrat si toate imi sunt dragi, de unele mi-e dor. Din toate s-a construit tot ce sunt azi si inca ma transform. Am invatat din toate rautatile pe care le-am facut, din cele care mi s-au facut, din toate minciunile pe care le-am spus si pe care le-am auzit si pe care le-am crezut. De la frivolitatile verilor, toate specificile acelor ani: haine, aspect, baieti... cand credeam ca a face un baiat sa planga e confirmarea suprema.&lt;br /&gt;Imi place sa cred ca am crescut, ca de acolo puteam sa merg in aceeasi directie, sau sa ma opresc si sa aleg sa fiu si altfel. Nu stiam exact cum, dar schimbarea nu s-a lasat asteptata. Nu stiu cum sunt "the girls of summer" acum, dar sunt usor de recunoscut si ma simt asa patetic de parca ne despart zeci de ani, si am zambetul ala cu subinteles si cu aroma de "pe vremea mea.." :)&lt;br /&gt;Timpul, distanta, orgoliul...nu mai stiu motivele miilor de certuri intre noi, ne-au facut sa nu mai fim ce eram: prietene. Mi-e doar de noi cele de atunci.E capitolul la care sufar cel mai mult: getting back in touch or at least keeping.&lt;br /&gt;Si ceea ce ma face sa ma simt ciudat si imi lasa o urma de tristete, este gandul ca toate intrebarile de mai sus nu vor primi nicun raspuns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-1529578556999913316?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/1529578556999913316/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=1529578556999913316&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1529578556999913316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1529578556999913316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/05/girls-of-summer-tie-de-cine-iti-place.html' title='The girls of summer (&quot;Tie de cine iti place?&quot;)'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-7419337810545521493</id><published>2009-05-09T16:22:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T15:54:16.769+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'>Acum</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Incredibly, just as I would put it:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nothing never happens. Allow letting go of your adictions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;FIINTA is what we should constantly pursue, the state of truely being, in happiness and light. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Suntem lumina. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mintea alimenteaza Sinele Fals. Sinele Fals are nevoie de framantari pentru a exista, pentru a supravietui. Sinele Fals este un produs al mintii. Inlatura dependenta de minte. Mintea are un reflex obsesiv compulsiv de a nu ramane in prezent, are nevoie de identitate din trecut si de asteptari - mai bune sau mai rele - legate de viitor. Ambele sunt doar iluzii. Nimic nu exista in afara de Aici, Acum. Iar aici si acum exista fiinta, acel nivel profund de constiinta care se afla in spatele mintii, dedesubt, surrounding it from all sides. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Pentru a scapa de dependenta de minte, ai nevoie de un comportament similar inlaturarii oricarei dependente - vointa, putere de concentrare, renuntare la ce acum pare satisfacator, your adictions, pentru ceva care exista cu adevarat. La nivelul nostru profund suntem lumina. Si constientizand aceasta, putem muri inainte de a muri. Eficienta de a lucra cu mintea apare cumva in absenta reflexului ei compulsiv, cand lucrezi la fiecare lucru in parte dedicandu-i your undevided atention, fara emotii si stari ce vin din minte, ci pe fundalul linistei profunde care strabate din strafundul lacului constiintei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Cand vorbesti, ramai mai mult in tine decat in afara. Ramai ancorat in acel fund de lac adanc care este sufletul si constiinta ta. Care este spatiu in care FIINTEZI, in care exista lumina, impacare, si iubire. Suntem niste fapturi inrobite semanticii. Singura cale de a reconcilia religiile lumii, care in esenta predica acelsi lucru, este sa crezi cu adevarat - in ceva, in orice, in una dintre ele, pentru ca acolo, beyond the supperficial layer of thought, they are all light. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But I guess this tells us there arent too many true believers in the world. Otherwise we would just know. Or rather be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Practice presencing. Meditate. Sit up straight and breath. Try to disconect from the mind. Continue breathing. you become aware of the centre of warm bright light that exists in your stomach. With every breath taken, the light increses, and your presence becomes more intense - there is silence all around embracing you. No sound of the mind, no hype of emotions. Just an intense and warm bright light is situated under your diafragma and it becomes ever more intense with every breath that you take. You begin to hear the sounds of the environment and see - like you have never heard or seen before. More clear, more bright, more real than ever. Your breath keeps you grounded in your ball of light and every time you breath in your aura becomes more intense. You give this light to the environment around you - the plants become greener and more alive and the reaction of everything that IS, vibrates in your level of energy - this is how you can actually make the world a better place - a very much "now" way to look at things and say - I did this, I did a positive transformation in the world around me, now, this very second. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;In a relationship, people often are feeding of each other's FALS SELVES. They come together not in true love - or this one is blinded - but in adiction of each other. They stop following their dreams and start making compromises that they needn't do, allegedly for the sake of the relationship - these will turn into the best excuses that the false self will use as fuel for existence, these will turn into topics for fights and conflicts. I belive in a freedom giving relationship - this can take place between people that have the same level of vibration, that are giving each other freedom, as I belive that freedom equals love. Freedom equals choice, therefor love cannot existe outside the power to chose, even if this means the choice of not chosing to love one, me. It is very clear that this is the only way to go about this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;And I also know that the level of true awareness of a person influences the level of the others, 2 people with different levels of living in the now cannot be around each other, utimately the flow of presence will cause the addicted one to change something, and my belief is that for the better. The points will connect in the future - sooner or later, and it will make so much sense. Presence makes so much sense, indeed. The most beautiful gift God has ever given us - the posibility to BECOME, to die before we actually die, to know God in all its greatness, and this is happening here, now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Thank you God!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-7419337810545521493?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/7419337810545521493/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=7419337810545521493&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7419337810545521493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/7419337810545521493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/05/acum.html' title='Acum'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-745961163726781323</id><published>2009-05-09T05:20:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T15:54:28.510+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starea de acum/it feels like...'/><title type='text'>Lecție de învățat:</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Să spun" STOP și NU !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-745961163726781323?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/745961163726781323/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=745961163726781323&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/745961163726781323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/745961163726781323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/05/lectie-de-invatat.html' title='Lecție de învățat:'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-4343796373592011805</id><published>2009-05-07T01:47:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T16:07:12.282+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='made me smile today'/><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="265" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Us-TVg40ExM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Us-TVg40ExM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I found this video where musicians from all around the world are playing the same song that comes together as one music video.&lt;br /&gt;It's great, I love the idea. It's simple, innovative, meaningful and fun -- that's how executing powerful ideas should be. Not hard work, but a fun journey.&lt;br /&gt;This video is actually part of an award-winning documentary "Playing For Change: Peace Through Music". Check out the whole story &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://playingforchange.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-4343796373592011805?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/4343796373592011805/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=4343796373592011805&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4343796373592011805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/4343796373592011805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title=':)'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-1834043166666283429</id><published>2009-05-04T18:35:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T16:08:10.200+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='made me cry today'/><title type='text'>Fulfilment - Gustav Klimt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sf8LfHXOXdI/AAAAAAAAAVg/2fsPvPCYWqM/s1600-h/Fulfilment%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331993113010265554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sf8LfHXOXdI/AAAAAAAAAVg/2fsPvPCYWqM/s400/Fulfilment%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; all that you can't say&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;words don't come easily...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-1834043166666283429?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/1834043166666283429/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=1834043166666283429&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1834043166666283429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/1834043166666283429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/05/fulfilment.html' title='Fulfilment - Gustav Klimt'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/Sf8LfHXOXdI/AAAAAAAAAVg/2fsPvPCYWqM/s72-c/Fulfilment%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4033569166275896948.post-8848639935367968516</id><published>2009-04-25T03:21:00.009+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T16:08:18.078+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ciorne'/><title type='text'>Parfum de femeie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SfJZaRB_OPI/AAAAAAAAAVY/yAHWpOJLMFQ/s1600-h/alecu3%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328419616915929330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SfJZaRB_OPI/AAAAAAAAAVY/yAHWpOJLMFQ/s400/alecu3%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;O femeie fara parfum e o femeie fara viitor&lt;/em&gt;.(Coco Chanel)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poti spune multe despre o femeie, poti incerca descrieri ale aspectului sau, caracteristci ale vocii, poti vorbi despre personalitatea ei, despre modul in care isi poarta corpul, modul in care priveste, poti sa-i faci un portret, poti chiar sa-ti dai cu parerea despre ce si cum gandeste, dar cum vorbesti despre parfumul ei? Cum il surprinzi?&lt;br /&gt;Nu am intalnit multe femei remarcabile pana acum (ceea ce inteleg eu prin remarcabil), as zice ca numarul acestora e 2. De la mama am invatat foarte multe,a facut si face foarte multe pentru mine, dar acum tot ce stiu este ca NU vreau sa ajung o femeie asa cum este ea. Nu vreau sa ajung defapt, ca nimeni altcineva, am doar...inspiratii.&lt;br /&gt;Parfumul unei femei este tot ce este ea acum, in prezent, cand il simti, dar si ceea ce traiesti cand nu mai este prezenta fizic. Revin odata cu imaginile, gandurile, intamplarile si emotiile legate de o femeie, note de parfum, arome numai ale ei, nu neaparat identificabile cu cele deja cunoscute.&lt;br /&gt;Parfumul tau, al meu ca femeie in devenire, al tuturor femeilor este dat de tot ceea ce ai facut, ceea ce ai fost, ceea ce esti si faci azi si ceea ce vei face maine. Oricat de mult ai incerca sa porti picaturilecele parfumate, aroma va fi cea a carcaterului si a lucurilor pe care le-ai realizat, al stilului pe care l-ai adoptat in tot acest timp. Pana la urma cred ca iei cate putin si din mirosul celor care iti sunt apropiati, mirosul prietenilor cu care te imbratisezi, al colegilor cu care dai mana, al barbatilor cu care te iubesti... Stiintic vorbind, am citit undeva ca se pot creea chiar dependente chimice legate de mirosul unei persoane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't know why women want any of the things men have when one the things that women have is men.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu, daca exista vreo ierarhizare intre barbati si femei, de fapt cred ca este o falsa problema, care insa se pare ca e luata prea in serios de majoritatea; si din pacate, as adauga.&lt;br /&gt;Nu am definitii ale femeii pentru nici nu vreau sa incerc acest exercitiu, imi place idefinibilul si subintelesul vorbelor lui Coco; defapt existenta, definirea ta, inseumeaza trecutul, prezentul si viitorul, iar odata ce inchei masurarea temporala ramane...spiritul, parfumul (etimologia din latinescul &lt;em&gt;per fumum &lt;/em&gt;insemnand&lt;em&gt; prin fum&lt;/em&gt;), ceea ce ai insemnat pentru altii, ceea ce ai insemnat pentru lume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stiu prea putine eu, sau chiar nimic, dar in mod inevitabil ma transform in femeie si nu vreau sa fie o trecere intamplatoare. Ma las inspirata uneori de cele mai simple gesturi si de cele mai multe ori de femei. O astfel de amintire a unei inspiratii, este legata de o doamna care imi arata cu mandrie un podulet de lemn facut de ea, care a iesit un pic stamb, dar de care era foarte mandra, si care mi-a povestit cum a lucrat la el in fiecare zi, fiind luata peste picior de catre ceilalti "barbati ai casei". Simpla relatare a acestui fapt de catre mine acum si aici, nu are cum sa surprinda "prezenta", "parfumul" de atunci care m-a inspirat foarte tare, care mi-a dat pe moment acel imbold de care aveam nevoie pentru a avea curajul sa continui cu un lucru inceput. O lectie invatata care si azi ma inspira sa merg mai departe si sa cred in mine si care practic a intarit un mod de gandire., dar pe care nu pot sa o separ de parfmul acelei persoane, parfumul acelor momente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O alta femeie despre am scris mai de mult, ramane un reper pentru mine in ceea ce insemna feminitate si a fi femeie, de la ea am invatat sa nu am false pudori, sa nu ma tem si sa traiesc expansiv. Parfumul ei, al acelui stil, al acelor ganduri este atat de prezent, desi ea nu mai este aici pe Pamant. E un parfum pe care il simt cand imi aranjez parul in oglinda, ca imbrac rochii sau fuste inflorate, cand sarut un barbat, cand raman singura, cand mi se pune un nod in gat in incercarea de a-mi opri lacrimile, cand ma uit la cer, cand vreau sa plec, cand port inele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu...nu-mi permit sa nu am parfum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La final, as vrea sa inchei tot cu Coco:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4033569166275896948-8848639935367968516?l=no-ideea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/feeds/8848639935367968516/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4033569166275896948&amp;postID=8848639935367968516&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8848639935367968516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4033569166275896948/posts/default/8848639935367968516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://no-ideea.blogspot.com/2009/04/parfum-de-femeie.html' title='Parfum de femeie'/><author><name>Zana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15131828915763873302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/TTNctnst-KI/AAAAAAAAAk0/fyreO_faqaQ/S220/jeee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1pCar5_M3Ck/SfJZaRB_OPI/AAAAAAAAAVY/yAHWpOJLMFQ/s72-c/alecu3%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
