<?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-1110655920772142130</id><updated>2012-02-09T14:05:23.545+02:00</updated><category term='timp'/><category term='idioti'/><category term='NU mai stiu sa dorm'/><category term='plumb'/><category term='oameni'/><category term='generatie'/><category term='fericire'/><category term='aveam'/><category term='femeia'/><category term='androizi'/><category term='ambitie'/><category term='doctrine'/><category term='placiditate'/><category term='NOI'/><category term='metamorfoza'/><category term='scaun'/><category term='fictiune'/><category term='PlATON(ic)'/><category term='2012'/><category term='IN CARE'/><category term='dumnezeu'/><category term='orizont'/><category term='muzica'/><category term='cultura'/><category term='ganduri'/><category term='detalii'/><category term='limite'/><category term='poezie'/><category term='monstru'/><category term='libertate'/><category term='globalizare'/><category term='3'/><category term='speranta'/><category term='religie'/><category term='dadaism'/><category term='lanturi'/><category term='dragoste'/><category term='noduri'/><category term='oniric'/><category term='lupta'/><category term='afara'/><category term='Noica'/><category term='empiric'/><category term='geam'/><category term='REALITATEA'/><category term='5 secunde'/><category term='schizofrenie'/><category term='placebo'/><category term='senila'/><category term='roboti'/><category term='cafea'/><category term='cunoastere'/><category term='dementa'/><category term='relativitate'/><category term='PE CARE'/><category term='civilizatie'/><category term='profan'/><category term='himeric'/><category term='trepidatii'/><category term='psihoza'/><category term='poluare'/><category term='renastere'/><category term='masca'/><category term='orb'/><category term='inceput'/><category term='oglinda'/><category term='iubire'/><category term='clone'/><category term='lumini'/><category term='stiinta'/><category term='nervozitate'/><category term='zambete'/><category term='sfarsit'/><category term='EU'/><category term='univers'/><category term='realitate'/><category term='imaginatie'/><category term='film'/><category term='EI'/><category term='oboseala'/><category term='Hades'/><category term='ploaie'/><category term='viata'/><title type='text'>...</title><subtitle type='html'>Totul pare mare atunci cand esti mic, nu-i nimic!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>151</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3670971581170141731</id><published>2012-02-02T22:21:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T22:24:36.779+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='noduri'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lanturi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cultura'/><title type='text'>Noduri.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ceea ce mi-a apărut în cale în ultima vreme, în afara mizeriei, am numit – noduri. Poate din pricina evoluţiei mele, sau din motive vizibile ale freneziei acestei ţări, viziunile mele au început să ia o altă formă, alt înţeles şi totalmente o altă direcţie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;N-am mai scris de ceva vreme, ştiu. Nu mă scuz, doar că nu am mai simţit. M-am lăsat pierdută într-o lume despre care se scrie în cărţi şi-mi place să cred că există. Am considerat că nu mai aparţin acestei lumi, şi iată că tocmai Hugo şi Maiorescu m-au adus înapoi. Am citit. Am citit ceva cărţi vechi, cu aer de contemporaneitate – &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family:arial;" &gt;lumea mea părea din ce în ce mai mică&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. M-am plimbat, am aflat şi am înţeles într-un final rostul anumitor valori, dar m-am lovit de absenţa lor în societatea noastră. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family:arial;" &gt;Lumea mea era mică şi plină de lipsuri acum. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Raţionamentul meu m-a împins spre o agitaţie şi un regret interior ce au mâncat din mine până la oase. Mi-au mancat din sentimente, din gânduri şi din gesturi. M-au cenzurat. Realitatea cenzurează cultura involuntar, căci realitatea noastră se macină alături de o naivitate şi o nonşalanţă ce nasc mediocritatea într-un ritm alert. Maiorescu este actualizat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family:arial;" &gt;Lumea mea este mică, plină de lipsuri şi de noduri masive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family:arial;" &gt;Societatea este în lanţuri. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;M-am simţit anihilată într-un fel. Am vrut să fac ceva, să ţip, să fug, să ajung cât mai departe. Dar am rămas aici, cu nopţi albe în plus, adăugate la colecţie. Am retina rănită de masele de mediocritate şi cultura superficială în care ne bălăcim orbeşte. Am timpanul zgâriat... dezacordurile-mi fac o simfonie stricată a viorilor cu corzile rupte şi a pianului fără de clape... Ce-i asta? Unde sunt aici? Lanţuri grele cu zale de plumb atârnă de mainile tuturor, dar cu toate astea, nu există nimic unitar. „Ce paradox!” aş fi tentată să spun...ce dezbinare fantastică a acestei lumi cu suflete oarbe şi gânduri oxidabile; dar tac, căci prea mult am scuzat acest drum greşit ce persistă de atâţia ani şi ne macină în contopirea sa cu idioţenia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ceea ce mi-a apărut în cale în ultima vreme, în afara mizeriei, am numit – noduri. Am folosit un termen elegant pentru frenezia şi frigul care mă înconjoară şi mă dezarmează uneori, pentru că am învăţat să-mi păstrez propriile-mi valori, în pofida demenţei de afară. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-3670971581170141731?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3670971581170141731/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3670971581170141731' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3670971581170141731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3670971581170141731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2012/02/noduri.html' title='Noduri.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6347639394624894784</id><published>2011-11-06T13:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-11-06T13:18:27.421+02:00</updated><title type='text'>10 dimensiuni</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0cm;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ansi-language:#0400;  mso-fareast-language:#0400;  mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1026"&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapelayout ext="edit"&gt;   &lt;o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"&gt;  &lt;/o:shapelayout&gt;&lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;M-am trezit dimineaţă cu o frică retorică în interior. Un sentiment de nelinişte m-a luat în braţe. Pentru prima oară m-am trezit odihnită după atâtea dimineţi şi m-a anihilat tristeţea.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Crăpase de mult de zi, iar eu eram obişnuită să mă trezesc în noapte şi m-am speriat. Am fugit prin mintea mea şi am dărâmat orizonturi. M-am prăbuşit într-un labirint al timpului şi m-am împărţit în 4 dimensiuni. Am trăit, am alergat, am ales să înţeleg şi în final m-am panicat. Complexitatea cu care-mi macin mintea zi de zi; simplitatea cu care-mi îmbrac corpul zi de zi şi informaţiile cu care mă descurc zi de zi contrastează ilar cu ceea ce ochii mei trebuie să îndure. E o lume tristă învăluită în laşitate şi moarte spirituală. O lume gri cu flori stinse şi copaci bătrâni. Călătoresc prin timp şi mă îmbrac în cenuşă. Renasc. Sunt împărţită în cele 4 dimensiuni şi mai adaug înca una…şi înca una…şi mă transform în mii de bucăţele care se reîntregesc uşor noaptea în pat, în gândurile mele. Evadez din labirint şi-l înving pe Orwell. Călătoria mea a funcţionat. Am întâlnit prin labirint de la Heraclit la Dante; de la Aristotel la Hitler; de la Heidegger la Noica. Şi azi sunt iar aici. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;M-am trezit dimineaţă cu o frică retorică în interior. Un sentiment de nelinişte m-a luat în braţe. Pentru prima oară m-am trezit odihnită după atâta vreme, dar tristeţea nu a apucat să mă anihileze. M-a speriat alarma ceasului prea tare. E fix. Universul se transformă în 10 dimensiuni. Relativitatea deja nu mai există aici.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-6347639394624894784?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6347639394624894784/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6347639394624894784' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6347639394624894784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6347639394624894784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/11/10-dimensiuni.html' title='10 dimensiuni'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-1174003119002706608</id><published>2011-10-12T14:39:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T14:42:01.003+03:00</updated><title type='text'>azi.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Nu ştiu dacă AZI, putea fi mai rău.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;...dar e octombrie din nou.&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-1174003119002706608?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/1174003119002706608/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=1174003119002706608' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1174003119002706608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1174003119002706608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/10/azi.html' title='azi.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-8039034491207893459</id><published>2011-10-09T10:27:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-10-09T10:29:43.070+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dadaism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poezie'/><title type='text'>Dadaism.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Geam larg deschis,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Inferioritate, umbră, gri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Un pahar de vin, convoi şi nori de plumb,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;De-afară vine-un urlet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Un măr negru otrăvit de viaţă,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Vânt senil, cameră goală.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Cafeaua dă în foc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dimineaţă.&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/1110655920772142130-8039034491207893459?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/8039034491207893459/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=8039034491207893459' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8039034491207893459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8039034491207893459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/10/dadaism.html' title='Dadaism.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-1145710582619527765</id><published>2011-10-04T15:09:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T15:13:47.273+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='libertate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='limite'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lanturi'/><title type='text'>Legaturi, legati, lanturi.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Nu ştiu dacă ceea ce este în jurul meu se numeşte real infinit, sau cale infinită spre real. Pentru că peste tot se vorbeşte de libertate şi de condiţiile dobândirii acesteia, îmi dau seama că nimic din ceea ce trăiesc nu poate fi definit ca solitudine, căci sunt lanţuri ce ne leagă, şi ce se leagă la rândul lor de orice. Sunt lanţuri de interese cu zale atât de bine sudate, încât nici deceniile trecute peste ele nu le-au separat. Sau lanţuri de iubiri. Unele cu zale lipsă şi unele cu zale demente devenite aproape una. Şi sunt lanţuri colorate sau întinse până la un maxim despre care în general se vorbeşte, dar rar se dovedeşte; sau sunt lanţuri integre, sobre, pline de etică. Unele sunt pline de notorietate, dar printre ele se întrezăresc atât de multe cuie şi nituri, încât se pierd de orice demnitate. Sunt lanţuri care te distrug şi mănâncă din interiorul tău încet; provoacă răni letale, cicatrici uriaşe...devenite uscate în cele din urmă. Şi uneori apar lanţuri care te transformă şi te pun drept piesă spre a servi completării lor. E atât de lung drumul şi atât de complicat încât ne crează impresia de rupere, pierdere... detaşare de realitate. Dar nu. Suntem aici înconjuraţi de lanţuri. Sunt aici cu infinit în jurul meu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Sunt aici şi conform lanţului vieţii, tot aici mă voi reîntoarce cândva.&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-1145710582619527765?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/1145710582619527765/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=1145710582619527765' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1145710582619527765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1145710582619527765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/10/legaturi-legati-lanturi.html' title='Legaturi, legati, lanturi.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-547189359657617519</id><published>2011-09-04T13:32:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T11:13:16.644+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fericire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='univers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='limite'/><title type='text'>Nihilism</title><content type='html'>  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;E plin de notorietate. Noi suntem plini de noi insine.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Unii ar spune ca lumea este divizata, dar sub acelasi cer, lumea e o singura bucata compusa din parti, particele si cusuta cu petece in non-culori. Ceea ce oamenii numesc &lt;em&gt;„stima”&lt;/em&gt;, realitatea o traduce prin &lt;em&gt;„ipocrizie”&lt;/em&gt;. Exista vorbe, discutii, proverbe, dar mai presus – sentimente. De ce suntem creati sa nu ne putem bucura cu adevarat decat pentru noi? Suntem inconjurati de chipuri si aparent, iubire. In esenta suntem exact cum ne-am nascut – singuri si plini de intrebari. Nimeni nu vede dincolo de limitele noastre, dar putini se intreaba unde sunt ele de fapt. E plin de nihilism si de situatii complicate. Fiecare minte devine lume pentru &lt;strong&gt;univers&lt;/strong&gt;, fiecare univers devine spatiu pentru &lt;strong&gt;minte&lt;/strong&gt;. Suntem obisnuiti sa consideram diversitatea formelor, ca fiind compatibila cu o origine comuna in unitate. Vointa de putere este doar forma primitiva a pasiunilor. Toate celelalte pasiuni nu sunt decat transformarea acestei vointe. Totul ar fi mai clar daca in locul ideii de&lt;em&gt; „fericire”&lt;/em&gt;, am aseza ideea de&lt;em&gt; „putere”&lt;/em&gt;. Bucuria in sine este doar perceptia unei diferente, ce se atinge atunci cand obtinem lucrul spre care am aspirat, si aici subscriu cu adevarat la ceea ce spune Nietzsche. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;„In cazul unei fiinte vii putem arata cu maxima precizie ca face tot ceea ce poate pentru a nu se conserva, ci pentru a deveni &lt;em&gt;mai mult&lt;/em&gt;  decat este...”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Si asta ar da mai multe raspunsuri decat intrebarile pe care ni le-am pus vreodata.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-547189359657617519?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/547189359657617519/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=547189359657617519' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/547189359657617519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/547189359657617519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/09/e-plin-de-notorietate.html' title='Nihilism'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6060438408753858039</id><published>2011-08-01T20:20:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T22:35:19.866+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pe linia de plutire.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Despre anotimpuri nu pot spune decat ca sunt o usoara astenie. Se intampla sa vina ziua in care vrei sa-ti iei cele mai putine haine si cei mai putini bani si sa pleci. Oriunde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Se intampla poate sa fie frig sau sa fie vara; sa fie noapte sau sa crape cerul de zi. Se intampla uneori sa vrei sa fugi departe de lumea ta, sa te integrezi in alta lume. Se intampla sa poposesti la margine de autostrada cu ochii inundati de soare. Sa adormi ghemuit pe scaunul din fata si sa te trezesti singur din vis, cu o autostrada in fata. Sa gonesti noaptea cand tot frigul se lasa in jurul tau sau sa te pierzi printr-o ploaie de stele. Se intampla uneori… Sa mergi pe strada si drumul sa-ti fie atat de cunoscut in pasi, dar atat de strain in sentimente – sa fi trecut in urma ta atatia oameni si sa fi imprimat ganduri, tristeti, amintiri. Se intampla sa te trezesti dimineata cu o frica retorica in interior si sa nu intelegi de ce; sa fi nostalgic si sa mergi pe linia de plutire. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Se intampla uneori sa vrei sa te intorci acasa, dar stii: casa pare ca s-a saturat de tine…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nirvana - Come as you are&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="33"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/DeathOnTheRoad/cf27fe0d3a3440.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=DeathOnTheRoad&amp;amp;hash=cf27fe0d3a3440&amp;amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/DeathOnTheRoad/cf27fe0d3a3440.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=DeathOnTheRoad&amp;amp;hash=cf27fe0d3a3440&amp;amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/diverse" title="diverse"&gt;&lt;/a&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/1110655920772142130-6060438408753858039?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6060438408753858039/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6060438408753858039' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6060438408753858039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6060438408753858039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/08/pe-linia-de-plutire.html' title='Pe linia de plutire.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3038130308610822369</id><published>2011-07-31T12:26:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T12:31:47.262+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Toata lumea la TIFF!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nNVTy5x3zkk/TjUfwxKnMOI/AAAAAAAAAic/w3QGwCv0xB4/s1600/04_Afis2011_48x68cm_RmVALCEA.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: 282px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nNVTy5x3zkk/TjUfwxKnMOI/AAAAAAAAAic/w3QGwCv0xB4/s400/04_Afis2011_48x68cm_RmVALCEA.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635445431416074466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Caravana Filmelor &lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TIFF&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;poposeste la &lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ramnicu Valcea&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;em&gt;intervalul este&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;3 - 5 august&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;em&gt;proiectiile vor avea loc la &lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cinema Ostroveni&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(cate 3 filme pe zi)&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;DOAR 5 LEI&lt;/strong&gt; -&amp;gt;&lt;em&gt; Enjoy! :D&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-3038130308610822369?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3038130308610822369/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3038130308610822369' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3038130308610822369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3038130308610822369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/07/toata-lumea-la-tiff.html' title='Toata lumea la TIFF!'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nNVTy5x3zkk/TjUfwxKnMOI/AAAAAAAAAic/w3QGwCv0xB4/s72-c/04_Afis2011_48x68cm_RmVALCEA.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-1098658726067239279</id><published>2011-06-21T22:25:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T22:29:41.302+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cunoastere'/><title type='text'>Idealuri si cunoastere.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;N-am calatorit inca pe-atat de mult pe cat as fi vrut, si desi o parte din mine inca e insetata de restul, cealalta simte uneori ca le-a vazut pe toate, mai putin un loc. Lumea noastra e mare, universul...infinit. Poate intr-adevar exista viata si altundeva si poate intr-adevar EI se lupta sa o gaseasca...Noi cautam in infinit. In noi, cine cauta? Credeam ca inteleg structura omului; credeam ca in esenta toti suntem facuti dupa acelasi tipar, dar avem aspiratii diferite. De fapt, toti aspiram spre cunoastere, nu conteaza de ce gen. Cautam in pietre, in ghetari, in lava, in pamant..Cautam si exploram cele mai negre adancimi ale marii si cele mai indepartate comete. Suntem intr-o parte si in alta a lumii, toti legati sub un singur cer. Ne pierdem noptile in paginile cartilor cu ochii insangerati de dorinta somnului si cu mainile tremurande dupa cafea. Cautam informatia acolo unde consideram ca nimeni n-a ajuns vreodata...dar cu siguranta multi au fost inainte de noi. Urcam pe un piedestal minciuni, mintindu-ne ca va fi bine. Inconjurati numai de haos, cea mai colorata varianta va deveni mereu cea mai buna, dar realitatea nu este asa. Scormonim in creierele care ne inconjoara pentru a satisface setea noastra nebuna de a stii. Dar tot ceea ce stim concret este ca lumea este mare iar noi ramanem la fel de mici. Avem muze si credem intr-o anume putere care invinge intocmai puterea fizica. Ne plimbam cat mai departe de lumea reala, si in concordanta cu ea, ramanem doar pasageri ai propriei sete de cunoastere. Si totusi ajungem sa fim siguri ca ceea ce am facut este corect si stim ceea ce trebuie. Si sfarsim prin a avea povesti demne de cultura si de o oarecare maretie. Stim geometrie, filosofie si ne place sa calatorim. Lectura nu inceteaza nici dupa cateva decenii ale vietii iar lumea pare ca se invarte in palma. Suntem la curent cu tot ceea ce e nou si cu fiecare loc din lume. Suntem in sfarsit acasa, fizic. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Un singur loc as vrea sa il cunosc asa cum nimeni nu vrea – &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;pe mine&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Restul este relativ."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&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/1110655920772142130-1098658726067239279?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/1098658726067239279/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=1098658726067239279' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1098658726067239279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1098658726067239279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/06/idealuri-si-cunoastere.html' title='Idealuri si cunoastere.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4637580604930169154</id><published>2011-05-27T22:01:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T23:24:30.141+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dumnezeu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doctrine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Scrisoare pentru Iisus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nu cred că trăim ca să murim. Nu cred în Rai sau Iad, Infern sau Purgatoriu – ca Dante, dar cred că nu omul este cel superior. De-a lungul secolelor s-au creat doctrine pentru cei ca noi. Biblia susţine miracole din care s-ar fi născut credinţa, dar noi, ştim că a luat naştere din neputinţă. Pentru că nu am învăţat să dispunem de forţele pe care le avem şi pentru că evoluţia noastră a încetat, depăşirea anumitor probleme poate deveni uneori imposibilă. Forţele fizice nu ne mai ajută. Suntem singuri, mici, plini de probleme şi suferinţe şi singura speranţă ar mai fi o putere spirituală. Când am fost întrebată de rolul credinţei contemporane, am răspuns simplu şi concis – ordine. Lumea a fost creată din celule care se mişcau în ritm haotic, conform fizicii, iar haosul la rândul lui, a rămas până în prezent. Dar şi într-o lume haotică poate exista o oarecare ordine - credinţa în absolut. Sfidez Biblia într-adevăr, căci mi se pare că viaţa nu e pentru a fi spălată ci doar pentru a fi trăită. Şi dacă Biblia mi-ar dovedi că nu murim, atunci ar trebui să ştie că vom ajunge să fim egali. Viaţa în sine e o purificare şi un declin în acelaşi timp. Acum nu suntem egali. În timpul vieţii ne suntem doar proprii călăuze. Dar cu toate că tot ceea ce trăim depinde doar de trupul şi mentalitatea noastră, neputinţa ne face să ne îndreptăm capul şi spre El. Dar ridicăm capul doar când ritmul nostru grotesc de viaţă începe să se fărâme. În cele mai adânci nopţi cu cele mai ample mişcări capul nostru se roteşte în ritmul unor cuvinte perverse... în cele mai adânci nopţi cu cele mai mari răni, capul nostru se ridică şi s-aude : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Doamne-ajută!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Şi-aşa că să nu se scuze omul pentru ceea ce e şi pentru cum trăieşte, să nu găsească motive irelevante pentru care a ajuns să îmbrăţişeze credinţa. Ce fel de fiinţe mai suntem şi noi? Implorăm când suntem în cădere liberă şi apoi reluăm banalul. Am zis că nu sunt de acord cu superioritatea noastră, şi până nu o să mi se arunce contrariul în faţă nici nu am să cred. Oamenii trebuie să creadă într-o ordine, în altceva în afară de ei. Pariul lui Pascal spunea: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1. Nu ştim dacă există Dumnezeu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;2. Dacă el există, necredinţa în el are consecinţe negative asupra sufletului nemuritor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;3. Daca el nu există, credinţa în el nu are nici o consecinţă.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;4. Aşadar, este în interesul omului să creadă în Dumnezeu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Pariul lui Pascal nu spune: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Cine este Dumnezeu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/h6tnIzS0kjk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-4637580604930169154?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4637580604930169154/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4637580604930169154' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4637580604930169154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4637580604930169154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/05/scrisoare-pentru-iisus.html' title='Scrisoare pentru Iisus'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/h6tnIzS0kjk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2848226127523109576</id><published>2011-05-22T00:44:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T00:45:35.317+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;somewhere over the rainbow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;(that's where you'll find me)&lt;/span&gt;&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/1110655920772142130-2848226127523109576?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2848226127523109576/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2848226127523109576' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2848226127523109576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2848226127523109576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/05/somewhere-over-rainbow-thats-where.html' title=''/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-223650376136146190</id><published>2011-05-15T14:42:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T14:47:23.212+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plumb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monstru'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lumini'/><title type='text'>În interior</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Uneori când se crapă cerul şi apare soarele (dimineaţa), se naşte în interiorul meu un monstru cu corp de cristal şi inimă de plumb. Mănâncă din mine părţi, şi devine violent. Isterizează uneori şi rupe din mine tot ce am mai bun, zdrobeşte cu puterea lui...inima. E un monstru care devine fiinţă când încep să neg, să urăsc sau să dansez după spusele lui. El e monstrul de la geam în miez de noapte, din dulap în miez de zi....din minte, în miez de viaţă. E de-o transparenţă de-a dreptul sadică, şi poartă pe umeri păcate pe care mă obligă să le retrăiesc la infinit. Aruncă cu ele în mine – e un monstru cu corp de cristal şi suliţe pline de păcate. E un monstru ce se crapă la căldură, se ciobeşte şi se transformă în fărâme mici şi milioane. Dar uneori, când vrea să se reîntregească mă obligă să alung căldura, iar eu, în neştiinţă o fac. Nu va câştiga niciodată lupta pe care o dăm, fiindcă, deşi eu dansez după muzica lui, el are nevoie de mine să se reîntregească, iar eu îl ajut doar când devin prea slabă, prea neînsemnată pentru mine dar totuşi o bază pentru cei din jur. El e monstrul care stă pe canapea şi bea cafea, dar se murdăreşte grosolan şi rămân urme maronii pline de zaţ în crăpăturile lui. Şi tot el e cel care strigă noaptea la vagabonzii de la scară, îi alungă doar ca să-şi poată fuma ţigara într-o linişte pe care doar o inimă de plumb o poate înţelege. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E mut şi grav, şi trist şi acru...şi imploră întuneric, dar întunericul nu-l va mai vrea.&lt;/em&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/1110655920772142130-223650376136146190?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/223650376136146190/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=223650376136146190' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/223650376136146190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/223650376136146190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/05/in-interior.html' title='În interior'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-477974042931478381</id><published>2011-05-11T00:28:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T00:38:24.080+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sfarsit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NOI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='masca'/><title type='text'>Măşti</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Există lucruri care ne deosebesc, dar în balanţă, există şi ceea ce ne apropie. Nu mi-am petrecut ore din viaţă încercând să găsesc diferenţe sau asemănări, dar mi-e imposibil să nu văd ce leagă oamenii, ce îi face pe toţi să se numească aşa. Se spun în popor poveşti cu prieteni care se cunosc atât de bine încât îşi completează frazele unul celuilalt. Se spun în realitate poveşti stranii despre cele mai adânci secrete, pe care NOI înşine, încercăm să le ascundem de NOI. Ceea ce ne leagă aparent, sunt vorbele, în strânsă legătură însă, se află măştile. Tot ceea ce vorbim e aparent şi relativ, precum şi ceea ce lăsăm să se vadă. Există măşti de singurătate şi frică, precum există măşti de durere şi uitare... de fericire şi bunătate. Există masca pe care-o porţi când treci strada, când iei pâine, când citeşti, când vorbeşi, când nu ştii, când vrei să aflii, când... Cine suntem NOI? E-o normalitate frica de a nu fi acceptaţi şi de a purta măşti în societate? E-o normalitate faptul că NOI ne lăsăm călcaţi în picioare de NOI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;înşine? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Există o linie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;extraordinar de subţire, ce se trasează la începutul fiecărei noi legături între oameni. Apare ca un fir, dar poate ajunge un întreg zid, sau poate deveni transparentă. Cu toate acestea, nimeni nu poate cunoaşte vreodată cu adevărat pe cineva, din cauza unei existenţe atât de invizibile, atât de ucigătoare poate. Invizibil, e un fir, vizibil, poartă numele de mască. Măştile fac parte din OM. Ceva perfect ar fi nefiinţă, fapt pentru care noi trăim – greşim sub acoperişul unei măşti. Fie ea funebră ca toamna lui Bacovia sau colorată, pictată manual şi cumparată de la un magazinel de sub un pod din Veneţia. Şi devenind parte din NOI, sfârşesc prin a avea nume... Se transorfmă uneori în durere, alte ori în fericire... dar de cele mai multe ori, toate ascund teama de a nu se vedea realitatea. Pentru că mereu am susţinut o realitate unică percepută diferit de fiecare om, susţin şi acum că tot ceea ce percepem şi ceea ce vedem este relativ, ba mai mult, chiar încercăm să facem noi totul să pară relativ, mărind astfel linia de care NIMENI nu va trece vreodată. Ce ascund măştile? Poate minciuni, care la rândul lor devin măşti pentru laşitate, care la rândul ei devine mască pentru furie, care la rândul ei devine mască pentru refulări şi teamă, şi lanţul apare cu zale noi la infinit...cauză pentru efect, efect pentru cauză. E macabră fiinţa umană, dar ascunde un univers departe de a putea fi perceput la adevăratul său nivel. Şi suntem atât de norocoşi că posedăm TOTUL... şi atât de falşi şi incapabili încât ne supradozăm, şi ne pierdem sufletul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Şi toate pentru ca finalul să se prezinte fiecăruia cu o altă mască, iar în final, să ne găsim toţi, în compania aceluiaşi demon - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sfârşitul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Silent Strike - Unde de vis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="33"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/erikson/d7679e2bade142.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=erikson&amp;amp;hash=d7679e2bade142&amp;amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/diverse" title="diverse"&gt;&lt;/a&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/1110655920772142130-477974042931478381?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/477974042931478381/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=477974042931478381' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/477974042931478381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/477974042931478381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/05/masti.html' title='Măşti'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4386246642534173860</id><published>2011-03-19T20:32:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T22:42:37.438+02:00</updated><title type='text'>When you're too in love to let it go, for real!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Din moment ce pe EL l-am suparat si exista sansa sa nu ne mai vorbim vreodata, vreau sa scriu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Atata vreme am scris despre tot ce e in jur, despre oameni, animale, orase, lucruri si alte tonterii iar pe mine m-am descris vag...si chiar si atunci doar o parte din mine. Eu sunt Bianca, ok, ati vazut cu totii, sunt un om, sau o jigodie cu sentimente. Gresesc, am gresit si am facut prostii; cea mai mare prostie a mea a luat sfarsit azi dand nastere unui cutit care ma taie si anume - regretul. Am vrut sa pastrez pentru mine ce scriu acum dar vreau sa vedeti si voi, inclusiv TU in cazul in care se va intampla sa nu vrei sa ma mai auzi/vezi vreodata. Nu vreau sa le percepeti ca pe niste simple cuvinte fiindca rup din mine in timp ce scriu. Iubesc, si cea mai mare greseala a iubirii este minciuna. N-am crezut ca Timpul se poate juca in ultimul hal cu mine, dar uite ca a facut-o. Acum un an si ceva (mai exact 8 luni si o saptamana sa zic) n-am putut vedea momentul asta si TE-am mintit. Si uite ca Timpul ma pedepseste facandu-te pe tine sa te simti astfel. Eu nu credeam in regret, pentru mine era doar o forma suprema, aproape inexistenta a ratiunii pure, si cum omul nu e rational in totalitate nu il poate simti. Dar cred. De atata vreme ma mananca din ce in ce mai mult in interior, si in loc de OM am ramas doar jumatate. Dar stiti...singura reintregire a mea este EL si chiar imi doresc din toata inima sa spun "este" si nu "era" pentru toata viata de acum inainte. Sunt o nesimtita, asa e. Sunt o nesimtita pentru ca dau impresii false despre mine. Ce credeati? Ca stau si scriu si lumea mea-i in regula cu tot cu problemele mele minore? Nu-i asa. Sunt ingropata in probleme, dar daca as stii ca rezolv cu TINE as trece usor cum am trecut si pana acum. Am devenit reticenta fata de multi din jurul meu pe care ii iubesc enorm, si imi cer scuze, cu adevarat ca va induc si voua unele din starile mele uneori. Cand ai o rana ce creste pe zi ce trece devii din ce in ce mai mic, din ce in ce mai neinsemnat. Ok, asa sunt eu... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-4386246642534173860?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4386246642534173860/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4386246642534173860' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4386246642534173860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4386246642534173860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/03/vlad.html' title='When you&apos;re too in love to let it go, for real!'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3772809258617375963</id><published>2011-03-07T19:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T19:58:55.734+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sfarsit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metamorfoza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inceput'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Metamorfoza</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Lumea mea e o mare cu labirinturi şi stări de spirit. Înot, dar mă pierd...malul, echilibrul se văd mult prea departe. Din haos m-am ridicat, pe haos mă înalţ...noaptea mi-e iubire împreună cu tine, ziua – amalgam de raze infinite contopite cu diverse stări. Şi aşa începe totul... La început e un mister ce te intrigă şi-ţi macină orice clipă de timp liber...numai la el te gandeşti. Noaptea când nu dormi, tot el iţi trece prin minte, ziua, reverie – un simplu mister... Şi uşor-uşor începi să-l desluşeşti. Mergi înainte prin el până când te loveşti de intersecţii. Derutat, nu ştii dacă-i în stânga sau în dreapta continuarea şi de multe ori pare că paşeşti cu ochii închişi pe unde te poartă soarta. Apoi începi să te izbeşti de ziduri, şi instinctul te obligă să le spargi, dar de multe ori rămân cărămizi rătăcite – răni interioare, refuz şi blocaj interior. Şi eşti nevoit, obligat mai degrabă să treci peste tot. Câteva clipe de drum drept se mai ivesc şi apoi începe adevaratul haos. Şi vezi uşi şi geamuri şi porţi...închise, deschise, mari, clădite-n stilul tău. Descoperi apoi ce-i în spatele lor şi vezi frumuseţea, iubirea...cunoşti, refuzi, accepţi, plângi, mergi înainte. Te agăţi de orice sfoară care-ţi promite ceva mai bun şi din simplul semn al întrebării misterul tău a devenit o viaţă. Te rătăceşti adesea dar te trezeşti totuşi acasă dimineaţa. Şi aşa e lumea - a ta, a mea, a lui sau a oricărui pământean...o simplă mare prin care te rătăceşti ce se metamorfozează dintr-un simplu semn al întrebării, într-un punct grav - sfârşitul.&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/1110655920772142130-3772809258617375963?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3772809258617375963/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3772809258617375963' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3772809258617375963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3772809258617375963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/03/metamorfoza.html' title='Metamorfoza'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2266722072892951111</id><published>2011-02-14T22:55:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T23:01:05.744+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;..am si uitat ca azi e ziua lui Valentin. N-am nevoie de tine sa iubesc, Valentin, am nevoie de EL, dar spre deosebire de tine, EL e fiecare zi, tu esti doar una.&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/1110655920772142130-2266722072892951111?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2266722072892951111/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2266722072892951111' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2266722072892951111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2266722072892951111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-44400143026004316</id><published>2011-02-06T21:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T21:14:01.088+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Betia gandului.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nu ma metamorfozez, e o stare de bine ce se reflecta la exterior. Ma cuprinde, imi acopera tot corpul. Relicva eului renaste, nu e inca scrum. Cuprinde nopti si zile – &lt;em&gt;e o aura calda&lt;/em&gt;. Inchide un Univers, o lume, un zambet in ea si cand se deschide, e ca si cum primavara ar inflori dintr-un singur om, dintr-o singura minte...o singura imaginatie. Un chip in mii de culori, mii de visuri...vise.. Dar cand e vorba sa intervina declinul, parca vad totul transformat in stana de piatra. Am o stare de plictis acum, dar e-n stare acuta. Sunt la mijlocul euforiei cu declinul. Si n-as mai vrea sa vorbesc de stari de spirit dar mi-e imposibil...Sa-mi scriu gandurile atat de pur, ar fi o blasfemie fiindca-l vad pe el, o vad pe ea, ii vad pe ei; si vad un scaun si un pat si ma gandesc la niste versuri si ascult o melodie..si imi excita timpanele. Si am pictat si am privit iar noaptea si am vorbit cu TINE. Si m-am trezit in raze infernal de calde si m-am intors cu spatele la geam. Si vreau o floare si o ciocolata si-n ziua de maine sa treaca deja doua saptamani. Si tu vrei filme, eu am titluri; vreau tablou, tu ai culori si simt artistic... Eu am o foaie. Dar o pictez, o desenez si o schitez cum ma trazneste si vad un el, si vad o ea si-i vad pe ei...Patru pereti umpluti cu vise si o noapte neagra de la geam. Un soare trist cu raze-ncinse si maine – doua saptamani. Si-mi pun tabloul intr-o rama si il agat deasupra mea. Intr-un plictis nebun l-am inventat. Ce blasfemie sa-mi pictez in asa hal gandurile...Ce haos in plictisul meu, of...ce blasfemie!&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/1110655920772142130-44400143026004316?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/44400143026004316/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=44400143026004316' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/44400143026004316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/44400143026004316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/02/betia-gandului.html' title='Betia gandului.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-7424585513969840168</id><published>2011-01-16T19:02:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T19:31:40.566+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ea..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TTMrSs3JfDI/AAAAAAAAATo/C5ZKmL-IGZE/s1600/pierdevaraaa%2B342.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TTMrSs3JfDI/AAAAAAAAATo/C5ZKmL-IGZE/s320/pierdevaraaa%2B342.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562837565012802610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ce povesti iti spune marea?...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mi-e dor de ea; de valurile ei, de spuma lor...de nisip, de scoici...Mi-e dor de mare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nu pot sa n-o iubesc dupa cate mi-a spus si mi-a facut... Mi-am pierdut mintile-n mare si ea le-a dus pe celalalt tarm, de unde le-a luat mai apoi si le-a adus din nou la mine. Ma fura, ma pierde, imi canta si ma incalzeste. Niciodata nu ma ingheata, marea...As imparti intreaga lume cu ea, dar lumea mea...e marea. Si n-as ura-o nici dac-ar fi amanta iubitului meu, eu stiu - marea-i cea mai buna iubita! Si cand ma ia in brate, ma sareaza si miros ca ea atata vreme...Marea-i o oglinda plina de cer, de univers, de oameni. As fuma cu marea o noapte si m-as plimba pe langa ea. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Si as merge cu tine la mare. Ce nebunie sa vad marea-n ochii tai, ce albastru! Si sa stam intinsi pe nisip blocati cu privirea-n orizont... deasupra cerul, in fata, marea... Si sa fie nelipsita briza la un apus inecat in sange, iar noi, ei bine noi doi...sa fim in brate murdari de nisip, de sare, mirosind a mare. Sa ne ingropam cuvintele in plaja pustiita si sa ne sarutam... Sa ne ingropam amandoi in lumina rosiatica si in valurile marii...Ce frumusete...&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/1110655920772142130-7424585513969840168?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/7424585513969840168/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=7424585513969840168' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7424585513969840168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7424585513969840168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/01/ea.html' title='Ea..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TTMrSs3JfDI/AAAAAAAAATo/C5ZKmL-IGZE/s72-c/pierdevaraaa%2B342.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2903970468799483806</id><published>2011-01-11T22:35:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T22:36:38.803+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dup-atata vreme..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TSy_T-UFA3I/AAAAAAAAATg/j35r32jZNkk/s1600/Selfillumination2_by_Kutsche.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TSy_T-UFA3I/AAAAAAAAATg/j35r32jZNkk/s320/Selfillumination2_by_Kutsche.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561029989761352562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Uneori vreau sa plec si uneori vreau sa stau. Uneori vreau sa plec si sa stau in acelasi timp; sa nu stiu ceea ce stiu, cat stiu, fiindca as muri mai fericita. A cunoaste nu inseamna a fii fericit. Cand am invatat ca n-are rost sa ma complic, am invatat si ca cel mai bine te exprimi in scris, cand n-ai retineri de niciun fel (poate-i doar un caz de particularitate – al meu). Nu-i lumea gri de afara de vina si nici amosfera-n care nu poti sa respiri, dar un lucru e sigur, sunt apatica, si a trecut ceva timp asa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Si-au trecut ceva zile cu evident, ceva nopti. Pentru prima oara dupa multa vreme am dormit cu capul sub perna; am uitat muzica, am uitat versurile. Pentru prima oara dupa multa vreme m-am uitat pe mine..blocata undeva intr-o oglinda de prin casa probabil, acolo cu zambetul meu..aici, cu nu-stiu-al-cui zambet. Pentru prima oara dupa atata timp am detestat ideea de dimineata..Oricum nu imi placea, dar nu refulam ca un vampir. Pentru prima oara dupa atata vreme am simtit un junghi in interior, dar n-atingea nimic...era ratacit prin gol. Nu-s dramatisme si nici scene proaste rupte din piese de doi bani, dar nici toate motivele din lume nu cred ca m-ar putea aduce unde ajung de atatea zile, numai cand e seara. Ce magie proasta are seara! E o arta sadica si dementa care-ti tortureaza fiecare neuron, fiecare nerv...toate simturile. Doar seara se amplifica durerile, fie de masea, fie mentale.. si cu toate astea am iubit-o mai mult ca dimineata, mereu. Noaptea-i linistita...noaptea doarme orasul si ma uit la el de la geam... dar ochii mei nu-l cuprind pe tot si chiar si asa bucata mea de noapte-i minunata. Si dupa atata vreme-i iarna, si dup-atata veme-i frig...si pentru prima oara dupa vremea asta nenorocita, am simtit o unda de singuratate...iar..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E doar o pasa. O sa ma trezesc in weekend si n-o sa mai fie asa.&lt;/em&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/1110655920772142130-2903970468799483806?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2903970468799483806/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2903970468799483806' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2903970468799483806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2903970468799483806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/01/dup-atata-vreme.html' title='Dup-atata vreme..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TSy_T-UFA3I/AAAAAAAAATg/j35r32jZNkk/s72-c/Selfillumination2_by_Kutsche.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4909797530957181163</id><published>2011-01-08T23:01:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-08T23:39:04.680+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='timp'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ganduri'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='senila'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='5 secunde'/><title type='text'>Dementa - 5 secunde.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Eu, cam ca Florin Chilian...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;nu stiu, nu stiu, cum nu stiu pe unde nu stiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;M-am tot rasucit prin ganduri si Timp. Timpul l-am tras peste mine ca o perdea, dar pentru ca ramaneau bucati de camera goale si mult prea luminate l-am pus iar in fata soarelui.Acum sunt nud. Perdeaua de Timp s-a dus.. Cafeaua s-a-nvechit si patu-i nefacut. Scriu fara rost azi dar sunt mult prea pierduta si nu in spatiu, ca p'ala nu-l am. As putea spune ca ma simt chiar claustrofoba uneori, de-asa multe ganduri ma lovesc...asa multe nebunii ma invadeaza...Un junghi prin coaste si un fior pe sira spinarii ce se reliefeaza frumos prin tricourile subtiri... Chit ca-i iarna, dementa mea nu face-o diferenta uluitoare. Parafrazez la nesfarsit fara sens, dar azi simt subita nevoie de a-mi descarca orice gand, orice vis, orice imagine ca un DSLR. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;De pe scaunul asta rece vad flashuri si mi se dilata pupilele brusc. Lumea asta rece a uitat ce-nseamna viata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;... Nu pare trist, ci este. Sa fii inconjurat de sadism, de ceata si de ura. Nu-i omul mort, ci sufletul..si daca e ceva mai trist decat perceptia mortii in general, atunci e moartea din interior in sine! Aici e vorba de o libertate abuzata si violata intens. Tot ce-ar fi putut fi complicat si frumos a devenit atat de fad si simplu. A disparut orice urma de eleganta, vulgaritatea-i o stampila ce te defineste a fi normal; dragostea-i in scari de bloc sau prezervative sugrumate-n cosuri de gunoi, sub banci...in parcuri. Primul pas e saltul la ultima baza -  inscris! Fericirea e un club din centru' Bucurestiului intr- o noapte plina de stele. Lectura? o umbra de articulatii proaste ale subiectului cu predicatul, best seller'uri rasfoite vag si remake'uri la &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Luceafarul. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Filme?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;American pye, nici vorba de Spielberg. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Si nu-i de vina perdeaua care acopera ce e afara sau protejeaza de soarele nebun, cum nu-i de vina nimic in afara de natura noastra. Si nu stiu de ce m-am trezit azi speriata dar stiu cum o sa adorm in noaptea asta. Cafeaua n-are decat sa putrezeasca in cana si patul sa devina un cearceaf continuu... eu stiu sigur ca o sa sufar de o frenezie pana la 12 noaptea, chiar si pentru 5 secunde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CTC - Multe de spus&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;object width="448" height="33"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/fdd/cc6a7a5d834b83.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=fdd&amp;amp;hash=cc6a7a5d834b83&amp;amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/fdd/cc6a7a5d834b83.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=fdd&amp;amp;hash=cc6a7a5d834b83&amp;amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/diverse" title="diverse"&gt;  Asculta  mai multe  audio   diverse &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.trilulilu.ro%2Ffdd%2Fcc6a7a5d834b83&amp;amp;layout=standard&amp;amp;show_faces=true&amp;amp;width=448&amp;amp;action=like&amp;amp;colorscheme=light&amp;amp;height=80&amp;amp;ref=trlfbmbdlk" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border:none; overflow:hidden; width:448px; height:80px;" allowtransparency="true"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/1110655920772142130-4909797530957181163?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4909797530957181163/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4909797530957181163' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4909797530957181163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4909797530957181163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/01/dementa-5-secunde.html' title='Dementa - 5 secunde.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-7961192858304690501</id><published>2011-01-03T20:31:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T20:35:13.316+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Asta-i doar un buncar.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TSIWiBjmcWI/AAAAAAAAATY/5hihA2trmJM/s1600/wire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TSIWiBjmcWI/AAAAAAAAATY/5hihA2trmJM/s320/wire.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558029663917732194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Nu-i o lume pe categorii..asta-i doar un buncar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Cica inainte de a gresi tre’ sa inveti greseala...sa ii cunosti sensul sau ce? As fi vrut o vacanta mult mai lunga sincer, dar si mult mai departe. Parca mi-e sila de orice ar putea sa ma scoata din starea de liniste in care intru...de aia nu mai intru niciodata. Mi-o fac cu mana mea si ma foiesc noaptea-n pat pana adorm...dar pana la momentul ala sunt multe altele abstinente. Am nevoie sa plec si sa nu dorm vreo 5 nopti ca sa ajung sa dorm una completa, exceptand momentele de sete bineinteles. Gandesc complex stiu, ma agit mult, recunosc...ma enerveaza si ma streseaza ca tot ce mi se intampla mi se intampla mie, dar ce-ar fi viata mea fara tot ce e? Cum ar fi sa ma trezesc si sa adorm in acelasi ton simplu si rece? Un tablou simplu a lui Monet..un peisaj sec, poate de toamna. Nu stiu ce-i regretul, forma i-o cunosc, dar nu vreau sa o accept...n-as regreta nimic din ce-as face cum nu regret si cred ca e a n-a oara cand o zic. Nu ma deranjeaza sa repet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Motaiam grav in drum spre casa dar parca-mi mai crapam ochii sa ma uit la apus. Nenorocitul de decembrie trist incepe sa dea niste apusuri prea calde, prea nostalgice, de ce? Parca vedeam o poza si incercam sa o traiesc empatic...niste stalpi de telegraf strambi, legati de niste fire aproape moarte si un apus minunat. Niciodata rasaritul nu mi-a dat acelasi sentiment ca al apusului. Chit ca iubesc viata nu-mi plac inceputurile zilelor...nu-mi plac diminetile, imi place doar sentimentul de trezire si lenevire..caldura. Imi place ideea noptii, mi-e frica de intuneric. Ce complexitate nebuna, ai zice, nu? Imi place natura, ma sperie padurile. Ma fac sa devin paranoica, sau scot din mine exact ceea ce sunt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As vrea &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;sa opresc timpul uneori aiurea. Sa arunc in fata materia din el si sa modelez trecut si prezent, sa nu schimb nimic la mine insa. Sa fie totul in dementa si eu sa traiesc in linistea cursului vietii mele de drept...as vrea. As vrea decembrie cu apus fad si rece si restul asa cum ar trebui sa mearga..as vrea un an mai bun si &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;o evadare&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; din buncar&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;As vrea sa pot dormi si fara nebunii si nopti albe in spate. Chiar as vrea..&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/1110655920772142130-7961192858304690501?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/7961192858304690501/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=7961192858304690501' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7961192858304690501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7961192858304690501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2011/01/asta-i-doar-un-buncar.html' title='Asta-i doar un buncar.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TSIWiBjmcWI/AAAAAAAAATY/5hihA2trmJM/s72-c/wire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4619601171706412834</id><published>2010-12-28T01:32:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T01:33:00.898+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Got it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TRkiHRffWBI/AAAAAAAAATQ/EOWtXUO09XM/s1600/tempjtht.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 190px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TRkiHRffWBI/AAAAAAAAATQ/EOWtXUO09XM/s320/tempjtht.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555509123688126482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-4619601171706412834?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4619601171706412834/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4619601171706412834' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4619601171706412834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4619601171706412834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/12/got-it.html' title='Got it?'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TRkiHRffWBI/AAAAAAAAATQ/EOWtXUO09XM/s72-c/tempjtht.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-5382438028552619397</id><published>2010-12-10T23:59:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T00:29:56.223+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fericire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poluare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='EI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='civilizatie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='globalizare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='generatie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='orizont'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='idioti'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NOI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clone'/><title type='text'>Coordonare idiot-orb</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Ce trista societate - cea in care idiotii ii conduc pe orbi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Dar fir-ar, nu cumva am pierdut ca m-am nascut aici? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Regret cumva intr-o tonalitate mai grava ca am inceput asa, dar se-ntampla sa aud mereu ca toti isi pun bazele in generatia asta, dar sprijinul lor este nici macar moralizator, caci ne fac sa parem retardati care nu stiu altceva in afara de haos. Si ce dac-am fi anarhisti? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Omul s-a nascut sa calce pe capetele de regi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Dar cine calca? As vrea un protest, la naiba! I-as da jos pe toti, toti porcii si monstrii ipohondrii care ranjesc si-si indoapa sacii de bani si burtile... ce jegosi... Lumea asta e o natie de nesanatosi... Unde sa plec sa fie mai bine? De-atatia ani EI scriu ca omului simplu nu i s-a dat nimic, nu i-a facut nimic, ziceam sa i se faca imn, da-n schimb, i-au tencuit o iluzie efemera. Unii i-ar spune "fericire". Nu ma-ncalzeste ca am televizor si internet cum nu ma incalzeste ca telefon si aparat, atata timp cat ai mei trag cu dintii, si-n jur toti fac la fel ca sa-i fericeasca pe altii; atata timp cat pentru niste jegosi "de sus" poluarea, globalizarea sunt niste probleme puse la expozitie ca sa ne dea noua impresia ca vor face sa fie mai bine; atata timp cat suntem vanduti si cumparati, pierduti DAR indrumati... SUNTEM! Uitate-n jur si nu la oameni, uita-te la ce e scris, la ce vor ei, la cat de mult tin sa te supui. Ce mizerie... cat am pierdut, cat am putut sa pierd.. Suntem plastic. Distrug plantantiile de rosii nenorocitii ca sa nu mai fie naturale sa poti folosi semintele...te obliga-n pana mea sa cumperi niste tuburi - clone de rosii cu seminte pe care poti si sa te pisi ( scuza-mi exprimarea ) ca tot nu mai iese nimic. Pai cum poti sa te stii fericit daca ti-e interzis sa cultivi mancarea; daca ti-e luata mancarea de la gura? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Ce trist ca natura vorbeste, dar omul nu asculta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Ce mai e liber, oare? Cum mai simti tu libertatea? E ca si cum am fi blocati in orizont, dar daca asa e de fapt, atunci cartile mint toate! Infinitul asta nu e libertate si nici fericire. Si EI isi pun bazele in NOI? Dar NOI suntem putini cu tupeu si multi cu perspectiva... Mi se pare ca lumea e prea mare de aici de jos, dar cum ar fi oare sa te inalti pe minciunile lor pana le ajungi la cap si-i decapitezi cu spada? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Si-atunci...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;optimismul meu se bazeaza pe faptul ca aceasta civilizatie se va prabusi. Pesimismul meu vine tot ceea ce-i antreneaza in propria-i pabusire si face aceasta civilizatie, pentru a ne antrena in propria prabusire!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DELIRIC &amp;amp; SILENT STRIKE - Demoncratie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="33"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/catautp/b4a9b3275350f0.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=catautp&amp;amp;hash=b4a9b3275350f0&amp;amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/catautp/b4a9b3275350f0.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=catautp&amp;amp;hash=b4a9b3275350f0&amp;amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/diverse" title="diverse"&gt;  Asculta  mai multe  audio   diverse &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.trilulilu.ro%2Fcatautp%2Fb4a9b3275350f0&amp;amp;layout=standard&amp;amp;show_faces=true&amp;amp;width=448&amp;amp;action=like&amp;amp;colorscheme=light&amp;amp;height=80&amp;amp;ref=trlfbmbdlk" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border:none; overflow:hidden; width:448px; height:80px;" allowtransparency="true"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-5382438028552619397?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/5382438028552619397/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=5382438028552619397' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5382438028552619397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5382438028552619397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/12/coordonare-idiot-orb.html' title='Coordonare idiot-orb'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-5093520532955164781</id><published>2010-12-04T13:00:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T13:29:50.727+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='orb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lupta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='EI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NOI'/><title type='text'>Lupta oarba.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Aici nimeni nu iti spune ce sa faci, esti posedat de propria ratiune care te mananca in interior pana ai ceea ce vrei, si-apoi pierzi. Ce-i in jur te face sa tragi cu dintii si de nisip pana-l duci pe  tot in spate si calci pe asfalt... e o dorinta puternica cu un scop efemer. Viata e un blitzkrieg. Nu mai e om simplu, si daca e, sa i se faca imn! Ce-i simplu in a suferi de o psihoza a vietii care te oboseste zi de zi? Ce-i simplu in a fi liber sub cer dar inlantuit in durere? Apare o pofta nebuna de descompunere psihologic si biologic limitata. Gustul putred al cianurii din aer face peisajul mai interesant. Nu-s ingeri - sunt doar aripi rupte de sus cazute... Asa-i libertatea pe care o traim. Si cumva ai vrea sa scapi; si din ce in ce mai multi trec granita, fug. Dar sclav aici, sclav acolo - esti la fel de inlantuit. Si-i plin de regrete si uitari; de revederi si plecari... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Toamna aduna jegul din fiecare casa si-l ingradeste in strada, primavara e doar o iluzie a curateniei. Ei vor sa fie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;profunzi cu o creatie seaca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;, sa ne atace din toate partile cand suntem lipsiti de scut, dar mai presus de ceea ce ne fac EI, e ceea ce ne facem NOI. Cred ca eul e cea mai de temut ratiune, si mi-e frica, recunosc, mi-e frica de multe ori de mine. Imi stapanesc gandurile, dar exista. Ce-i in jur ma impinge sa-mi vand si inima, dar ce-i in jur nu-mi poate obliga eul... dar daca o sa se lase corupt intr-o zi? Ce-i omul daca nu o fiinta cu un univers inchis in interior? Constiinta morala s-a trezit din pacat, iar universul s-a cladit prin constatarea ordinii, nu prin infrangerea ei...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Poate nimic din ce avem nu o sa infranga vreodata ce e sus, dar asta-i scuza pe care-o folosim ca motiv de lupta. Lupta oarba.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Doc-Calaul&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;object width="448" height="33"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/herren/3329d9b9ff3f7f.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="username=herren&amp;amp;hash=3329d9b9ff3f7f&amp;amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/herren/3329d9b9ff3f7f.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="448" height="33" flashvars="username=herren&amp;amp;hash=3329d9b9ff3f7f&amp;amp;miniMode=true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/diverse" title="diverse"&gt;  Asculta  mai multe  audio   diverse &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.trilulilu.ro%2Fherren%2F3329d9b9ff3f7f&amp;amp;layout=standard&amp;amp;show_faces=true&amp;amp;width=448&amp;amp;action=like&amp;amp;colorscheme=light&amp;amp;height=80&amp;amp;ref=trlfbmbdlk" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border:none; overflow:hidden; width:448px; height:80px;" allowtransparency="true"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/1110655920772142130-5093520532955164781?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/5093520532955164781/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=5093520532955164781' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5093520532955164781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5093520532955164781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/12/lupta-oarba.html' title='Lupta oarba.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2486502432561535069</id><published>2010-11-30T18:44:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T19:38:51.006+02:00</updated><title type='text'>&lt;-back</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Cred ca a avut loc o decadere a blogului aici, sau a postarilor mai degraba - declin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;N-am mai scris si nu ma scuz. Am pus de multe ori mana pe taste si de multe ori mana pe pix, am scris poezii insa. Nu le postez, nu vreau. Mi-era dor de blog, de domeniul meu. Aici e un erotism al ideilor, o imbinare perversa a lor; o nebunie...E lumea pe care o traiesc, din care provin, un mediu balzacian, trait la o intensitate maxima. Prea multe evenimente nu s-au intamplat, dar socotind in masura lumii mele, ar fi o gramada care nu poate fi insirata nici in 3 bloguri. Eu iubesc, si iubind, imi dau seama ca lumea, desi violenta, are cate-un loc pentru oricine. Iubesc ce-i in jur, il iubesc pe EL si iubesc "Castelul" lui Kafka; iubesc ca strada pe care merg spre casa e plina de oameni mereu si ca o sa vina iarna. Iubesc gandul ca o sa iubesc si de Craciun - dorinta pe care o am de atatia ani. Dar e totusi o iubire avara, individualista, caci nu ma invata sa profit de ea mereu..o posed, dar ea ma domina. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Ce-ar fi lumea mea fara tot ce am acum? Niciodata nu mi-a fost teama c-am sa pierd, dar am facut-o...nu regret si deci, sa fie oare un gest inuman? Am cladit un intreg imperiu in lumea mea, nu pot descrie, nu pot. Sunt prea multe cuvinte si prea multe sulite; prea multe scuturi si prea multe tancuri; prea multe drumuri si prea multe teluri...Poate prea multe din tot, dar prea putin din fiecare... o medie, un echilibru. Lumea mea e o erezie. E un amalgam si il traiesc din orice punct as fi, oricum l-as percepe, il traiesc si-i mult mai frumos acum, cand stiu ce-i cu iubirea! &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/1110655920772142130-2486502432561535069?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2486502432561535069/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2486502432561535069' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2486502432561535069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2486502432561535069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/11/back.html' title='&lt;-back'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-8998775094112858873</id><published>2010-10-08T20:05:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T20:08:30.691+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Apatie ( mai mult ca de obicei )</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Procesul psihic supranumit stare generala de apatie nu e altceva decat o sagetare bine-meritata si incredibil de bine plasata in caracterul propriu-zis. Ceea ce creierul uman nu intelege prin sentimentul de multumire, digera la cugetare si lipsa de dorinta. Apatia temporara nu e nimic mai mult decat o tristete fada, formata din activitati oarecum esuate sau satietate temporara a adrenalinei devenite rutina. Cand corpul estompeaza orice incercare de miscare, creierul e pus intr-un maraton cu o miza. Transpus empatic in acest maraton, drumurile ti se intortocheaza si-ti dau batai de cap, de unde apare jocul destinului cu miza sau trofeul agonizat in departare. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Printr-un fum obscur al mintii tale ce acopera o lume obscena, treci de cateva ori, plesnind orice chip uman ce-ar vrea sa te ajute. Cand este pusa o miza in joc, insa jocul are doar un singur pion, partida se considera nula. Ceea ce tu ai numit candva „labirint al mintii” se sfarseste ca un drum drept cu mici obstacole optice. Lumina difuza transpusa pe diferite situatii, iti creaza un fel de „fata morgana” a realitatii. Firul despicat in doua nu este nimic altceva decat el in sine, si reflectia sa. O multitudine de intrebari stiintifice, si o stiinta in progres, dar rationamentul tau inductiv nu va intelege decat cum sa se deruteze mai usor. Pierdut, cu pupilele tintite in van, renunti la orice teorie atipica generalului tau si ramai cu inconstientul neelucidat – teorie fundamentala ce duce la intrebari. Straniul deces al raspunsurilor te macina si naste ceva mai mult decat orice alt progres ar putea explica. Nu tolerezi nestiinta, si-atunci stai cu capul in zeci de directii pentru un rezultat final. Dar atatea nopti pierdute pentru atata munca si atata munca pentru nimic... caci nu-ti sunt acceptate vorbele si-atunci intreaga ta filosofie se duce dracului. E banal cum cearcanele si cafeaua te imping spre a gandi mai mult. Un inconstient nedescoperit inca si o lume din spatele geamului cuprinsa in universul tau... Din cauza asta pierzi nopti si consumi cafele, caci explorezi acolo unde piciorul omului nu a putut calca, dar unde putine minti au putut ajunge. Tot pe aceeasi axa te intinzi si cand mergi la scoala... dar numai „ a invata ” e scopul – tu de la EI si ei de la TINE. Si in speranta ca-ti vei alterna puterea insomniei in noptile prea triste, cauti raspunsuri in prezent sau in reflectia lui pe ambele directii. Si e-n zadar, caci prezentul e atat de simplu incat definit din sapte litere pare deja de sapte ori mai complicat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Procesul psihic supranumit stare generala de apatie, se naste din simplu. Doar asa devine complicat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/1110655920772142130-8998775094112858873?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/8998775094112858873/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=8998775094112858873' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8998775094112858873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8998775094112858873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/10/apatie-mai-mult-ca-de-obicei.html' title='Apatie ( mai mult ca de obicei )'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4626831843186874140</id><published>2010-09-25T16:47:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T16:48:02.407+03:00</updated><title type='text'>EU..scriu.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Eu scriu despre filosofi si punkisti, despre monstrii si junkisti. Davisti, nebuni, oameni de cultura. Regizori, actori, anarhie, cenzura!&lt;br /&gt;Scriu despre ceea ce s-a mai scris dar nu s-a actualizat. Despre-un taifun in miezul verii, cearceaful mototolit din pat ca dovada a placerii, despre... ceea ce EI numesc reguli bine definite, tutoriale, melodii, versuri obosite...&lt;br /&gt;Eu scriu despre cultura, despre critici, cronicari si indecisi. Despre viata, despre moarte, parfumuri fine, nimic concis...scriu! Si scriu si despre tineri, sau despre ’89...eu scriu si despre tine, si despre ce va place voua..&lt;br /&gt;Dar scriu si, nu imi e teama de critici, de respins... Am tinut sa-nvat ca un soldat nu moare-nvins. Si pictez A4 cum picteaza grafferii peretii... culeg informatia si-o prelucrez cum modeleaza cuvintele, poetii..&lt;br /&gt;Scriu despre cei ce stiu printre randuri sa citeasca, articole, poezii si niciodata proza proasta...Scriu, autobiografii cu personaje fictive, psihologie inversa sau ganduri abrazive...&lt;br /&gt;Eu scriu despre noi, si despre tot ce e integru, situandu-ma la mijlocul axei ca o culoare, cu extremele alb si negru.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-4626831843186874140?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4626831843186874140/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4626831843186874140' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4626831843186874140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4626831843186874140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/09/euscriu.html' title='EU..scriu.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-417396851532215405</id><published>2010-09-18T17:55:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-09-18T18:15:37.575+03:00</updated><title type='text'>..plastic.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "&gt;Intr-o constanta gravitationala a imaginatiei mele m-am pierdut de  dimineata. O lume 3D cu monstrii si greseli, cu drumuri fictive si muzica a carei basi rasunau constant. Ma distram la inceput intr-un comic superior gen Caragiale... Dat mi-a fost sa-l descriu efemer. Prin filele povestilor rataceam ascunsa cu un pix in mana. Notam ce nu mai auzisem si cream ce nu se mai stia. Intr-o lume plina de carnivori, o camera plina de junkisti imi explica firea. Brusc, liniste. Pe o alee ingusta dintre blocul de 10 etaje si benzinaria prafuita mi-am regasit destinul. Aflat la 10 metri sub pamant, intr-o gaura paradoxala din mijlocul aleii, imi zambea mohorat cu un brat intins. Incercari sobre si miscari de efect mi-au inundat vremea, dar destinul, tot acolo a ramas. Si am intrat in deriva. Homosexuali obsceni si lesbiene parsive imi cumparau parca locul din lume cu o spaga extraordinara. Langa Destin, un calau misuna cu barda-n mana. Lumea mea plina de oameni s-a stins incet sub taxele unor roboti si a unor legi ale firii reversibile. Eu nu mi-am schimbat numele, nu mi-am schimbat adresa. Nu mi-e frica sa nu fiu de-a lor, caci ei mi-au distrus lumea sub bocanci! Un fel de Big-Bang coada-cap (Gaura Neagra mai exact) dominat de un Antichrist vulgar imi mananca terenurile. Nu-i de mirare ca aleea mea e gaurita. De mirare e ca acolo stai si tu... si stii? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Pe noi n-o sa ne faca nimeni niciodata  sa fim falsi, chiar daca traim in plastic!&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/1110655920772142130-417396851532215405?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/417396851532215405/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=417396851532215405' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/417396851532215405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/417396851532215405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/09/plastic.html' title='..plastic.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2187884504674221990</id><published>2010-09-15T22:04:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T22:08:37.532+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stiinta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oameni'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='detalii'/><title type='text'>De fapt..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;De fapt de ceva vreme e liniste. Si toata linistea ma face sa-mi pun franturi de intrebari...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;N-am putut sa nu ma gandesc de ce orice ar putea fii teoretic simplu, devine complicat. E vorba de linistea pe care n-o oferim gandirii. Strabatand catacombe ale mintii mele mi-am dat seama ca pot fii mai imperfecta decat sunt si mai zambitoare decat eram, dar cat la suta conteaza detaliile daca ratiunea este acoperita de ele? In general (daca asa as defini generalul ), mintea mea am privit-o ca o oglinda. Oglinda ale carei raze de lumina se propagau asupra mea cu o insistenta persuasiva si deci da, credeam orice interpretam. Inca ma intreb de fapt: E oare omul facut sa insiste asupra detaliilor? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Daca detaliile amplifica suferinta si bucuria, atunci ar trebui lasate la o parte pentru trairea medie a fiecarui sentiment? Exista oare o legatura intre „ Dupa ploaie vine soare ” si interpretare, amplificare? Poate un om sa fie fericit numai interpretandu-si viata in scopuri primordiale? Dar de asemenea poate cadea in depresie tot din detalii?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Atatea intrebari n-am mai pus de multa vreme, dar aici nu stiu cum sa raspund. Ma lovesc de ele in viata si nu neaparat sub forma pe care au luat-o aici. Stiu doar ca amplifica trairile si deci, un om care nu baga in seama o neinsemnatate se poate numi heartless?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Am invatat intr-un stil total barbar ca un om poate fii lovit fatal intr-un punct de care nici sa nu aibe habar. Asta e o lectie de karate. Am invatat ca oamenii sunt &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;animale cu par lung si idei scurte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;, dar cu o drama in viata cat pentru toate vietile budistilor. Nimeni nu da aparent atentie nimicurilor, dar inconstientul capteaza orice, deci da, detaliile conteaza. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;EI imi spun adesea ca isi inchid inima si urechile. Vorbele, niciodata. M-am simtit total straina printre zeci de cunoscuti, caci eu nu am inchis niciodata nimic, in fata celor de care mi-a pasat. M-am inchis pe mine poate, dar asta din cauza altor detalii. Nu ii cred insa; nu pot crede ca exista oameni robotizati. Oamenii au emotii si asta nu tine de stiinta, deci o poti intelege chiar si cu lobotomia facuta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;De fapt ce e viata? O bucata care tot creste pe baza unor detalii..?&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/1110655920772142130-2187884504674221990?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2187884504674221990/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2187884504674221990' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2187884504674221990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2187884504674221990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/09/de-fapt.html' title='De fapt..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2466241999291548850</id><published>2010-08-22T16:25:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T22:11:30.563+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cuB.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Eu am un cub tintit intr-o sfera de piatra care se crapa pe margini atunci cand cainii latra, dimineata. Care-mi surade in oglinda cand imi privesc senin fata si atrag spre mine orice atentie, caci metropola mea e un fel de detentie a carei regula-i monogamia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Nu ma silesc sa accept caci pe tine oricum o sa te iau asa! In bratele mele ai zambet de copil.. ochi plini de durere, un scratch aspru pe vinil. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Pe podeaua de mult adormita, zace o haina veche, ravasita, cu glasurile noastre-n ea. Cu miscari abrupte si cantari prea lente, cu bucati de viata si cu griji scadente te am eu pe tine-n brate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Si cand ma trezesc din graţii, inca suntem pe podea contempland la saltul ce urmeaza. Dintr-un cub de sticla tintit intr-o sfera de piatra, tu cu un picamer, eu ingrijorata, planetara si cu planuri mii in minte, evadam din stanca fara scop si tinte. Amandoi de mana, amandoi in cub, tu cu un picamer, eu? Cu un surub.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-2466241999291548850?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2466241999291548850/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2466241999291548850' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2466241999291548850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2466241999291548850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/08/cub.html' title='cuB.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3175798785613179194</id><published>2010-08-16T23:45:00.008+03:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T16:57:36.510+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='femeia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragoste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lumini'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='renastere'/><title type='text'>Renastere.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TGmkFmz_9rI/AAAAAAAAASE/rYNv5uh0mrw/s1600/marilyn-monroe-800x600.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TGmkFmz_9rI/AAAAAAAAASE/rYNv5uh0mrw/s320/marilyn-monroe-800x600.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506112435662091954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Femeia, pura fiinta care ti-a dat viata, e cea de care te lovesti oriunde ai merge. Poate Cartarescu a intentionat sa exceleze intr-o definitie a femeii, divinizand-o, perfectionand-o, eu vorbesc despre total altceva in schimb. Este ceea ce DA, te scoate din impas de multe ori, ca poate pentru ea te mai trezesti uneori dimineata, dar niciodata rationala, te poate impinge la loc. Femeia e, cum ar spune M.Preda „ ca o prada ”. E vorba de durere, de momente-n care iti pui la bataie si sangele sa o mai strangi odata-n brate. E vorba de ceea ce iti spune sau promite, de faptul ca e acolo... dar de multe ori calca stramb fara vointa. E ceea ce numesti ajutor la mijloc de drum cand felinarele sunt stinse si intunericul inunda calea, dar poate de multe ori si ea mai sparge cate-un bec. E poate-o vrabie; un fulg; o adiere usoara; un scancet; o lacrima... un umar pe care sa stai. Cu forme pline sau modeste e totusi acolo, intr-un pat in miez de noapte cu o carte stransa cu mainile pe piept... pieptul acoperit de atata iubire, de atatea greseli irationale. E cea care din nimic face ceva si care ar lupta impotriva durerii tale si smulgandu-si inima din piept... Cea care stie ca si tu ai face la fel cand o saruti de noapte buna si o strangi in brate lasand-o sa doarma pana tarziu dimineata... E ceea ce numesti dragoste, caci pe chipul ei citesti asta.. ceea ce nu ai vrea sa parasesti in veci. Femeia e cea care-ti radiaza ziua cu un zambet, cel pe care-l poarta pe buze din pricina ta... desi tu poate n-ai fost mereu langa ea, sufletul a fost mereu aproape, si iesind din coaste de nevoie! Aceasta ea te trezeste dimineata fara sa deschida ochii macar.. e vorba de parfum, de piele, de cum miroase.. si tot ea iti capteaza atentia asupra somnului sau linistit... Privind spre femeia ta vezi poate o lume, o cale, sau doar un mic traseu... Exista o singura femeie a vietii pe care nu o poti alege, cea din care te nasti, cum de asemenea exista o singura femeie a vietii pe care o poti alege – cea din care renasti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/1110655920772142130-3175798785613179194?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3175798785613179194/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3175798785613179194' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3175798785613179194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3175798785613179194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/08/renastere.html' title='Renastere.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TGmkFmz_9rI/AAAAAAAAASE/rYNv5uh0mrw/s72-c/marilyn-monroe-800x600.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4604513550576079080</id><published>2010-08-15T18:27:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T18:31:25.716+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zambete'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='geam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='3'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='afara'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='androizi'/><title type='text'>De unde ziua incepe de la 3..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TGgIICW4mHI/AAAAAAAAAR8/BKkQMMVNzNM/s1600/tumblr_ky677mUdtX1qa0sj6o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TGgIICW4mHI/AAAAAAAAAR8/BKkQMMVNzNM/s320/tumblr_ky677mUdtX1qa0sj6o1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505659478625261682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;De unde echilibrul meu mental incepe dintr-un spatiu colturos. De unde se aud unde care rup orice mp al blocului. De unde ochii se inchid de la oboseala. De unde lumina se propaga transversal pe pat printr-o usoara crapatura a draperiei. De unde un parfum usor invaluie orice obscuritate. De unde singura planta care rezista e un cactus. De unde basii ataca mintile psihedelic. De unde diminetile bat in geam la pranz, pentru ochii mei. De unde linistea incepe. De unde cearceaful a inghitit multe frustrari si peretii multe vorbe... De unde oglinzile-ti creaza un trip inopiant, aspru. De unde puterea se extrage dintr-o cana de cafea batrana. De unde apusul scaldat in sange se picteaza in spatele geamului. De unde vantul adie usor noaptea si orasul pare mai departe ca oriunde. De unde incep visele... De unde miroase a nebunie si a pudra; a carti si a creme... De unde mai ridic cateodata fum in aer pe-o melodie jazzy. De unde decembrie are gust de cafea cu scortisoara si turta dulce. De unde se scrie o poveste de anarhie. De unde zambetul se trezeste cu mine in brate. De unde androizii de afara nu pot avea acces. De unde privesc in gol ingandurata, asezata pe pervaz. De unde am acces la alte apartamente, vizual. De unde ruleaza filme si seriale. De unde starile de spirit se contopesc, se pierd, se sting si se nasc. De unde picturi si desene amortesc intr-un caiet vechi.. De unde stropi de ploaie se scurg pe geam. De unde inabuseala de afara se chinuie sa atinga inauntrul. De unde orice zi incepe la fel... de la etajul 3.&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/1110655920772142130-4604513550576079080?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4604513550576079080/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4604513550576079080' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4604513550576079080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4604513550576079080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/08/de-unde-ziua-incepe-de-la-3.html' title='De unde ziua incepe de la 3..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TGgIICW4mHI/AAAAAAAAAR8/BKkQMMVNzNM/s72-c/tumblr_ky677mUdtX1qa0sj6o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-7031073897121916163</id><published>2010-08-13T12:53:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T12:54:50.922+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu orasul si..?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Afara in calvar sunt ingeri aruncati. In duiumul insignifiant vad un copil ce alearga pe strazi lungi, prin ghetouri si se izoleaza cu spatele la EI. „Scrii SF?” ma intreaba un trecator... Zic: NU. E doar ceea ce se afla dupa geamul de aici. De la geamul meu contemplez lumea si deci, destinul mi-e jocul vostru. Am trait un manifest al unor minti la apusul crepuscular acum cateva zile si nimic! Zeci de heruvimi aruncati in multime si legati cu lanturi s-au zbatut mental pentru o iesire de aici – degeaba! Am intalnit poate mai multa mizerie decat s-ar fii anuntat, pana acum. In mansarda mintii mele se ruleaza filme inspirate din jocul vostru... marionete murdare si, din exces de zel ma impiedic de greseli si culegeri cu probleme. Daca peste greseli se trece, criza de probleme nu se rezolva asa. Am cautat sfarsitul cartii sa pun rezultatele, dar in zadar. Nici de unde contemplez nu pot vedea totul. Si ma trezesc aproape de o &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;intersesctie a duiumului, pe care o numesc X dar uimitor nu apartine de nimic. E independenta. Daca in X se intersecteaza 2 drepte, atunci in doua mi s-a crapat mintea. Sfarsitul e departe si eu deci, trebuie sa rezolv problema. Dar acum apar intrebarile. Dreapta,stanga sau din nou in fata? Si alerg in fata pe o strada lunga fredonand versuri incet. Despre peisajele perverse si manjite cu sange nu mai zic nimic, ma inconjoara dar le tratez cu retina acoperita. Punctul de intersectie ofera un raspuns. In dreapta si in stanga se afla nimic; in fata – infinitul. In punctul X ma opresc izolandu-ma cu spatele la lume. De aici drumul este clar. O strada lunga in fata... acum mai trebuie doar sa gasesc capatul meu..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/bloggeron/6c8bd1163579f7.swf"&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;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=244&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Praetor%20%20-%20%20Eu%2C%20Orasul%20si%20Castile"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/bloggeron/6c8bd1163579f7.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=244&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Praetor%20%20-%20%20Eu%2C%20Orasul%20si%20Castile"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;Asculta mai multe audio Muzica&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/1110655920772142130-7031073897121916163?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/7031073897121916163/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=7031073897121916163' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7031073897121916163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7031073897121916163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/08/eu-orasul-si.html' title='Eu orasul si..?'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-5906169283649314651</id><published>2010-07-12T20:56:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T20:58:14.157+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trepidatii'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inceput'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='speranta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='androizi'/><title type='text'>Inceput cu trepidatii. Spectru sonor!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TDtXqJN0SHI/AAAAAAAAAR0/yjbyEuJ6ieM/s1600/Music_by_3_2_1_Agni.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TDtXqJN0SHI/AAAAAAAAAR0/yjbyEuJ6ieM/s320/Music_by_3_2_1_Agni.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493080552048445554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Am inceput simplu, fara gropi sau salturi parametrice si obligatii tehnice, in functie de scenele tripului meu. Distingeam siluete si culori ce le amestecam undeva unde se ivea orizontul. Fugeam pe linia lui cu ganduri in valize si cu visuri in cap. Inceputul meu a devenit trecut de vreme ce am realizat prezentul. Fara detalii scenice ma infundam in problemele vietii. Am cunoscut o vreme de ceata pe retina si malformatii ale sentimentelor; cat despre leziuni interne... prefer sa spun doar : hemoragie! E-o boala psihica, ce demoleaza mai rau ca Piedone, Piata Sudului. Mananca organele interne si singura speranta de iesire: vederea! Distruge populatii intregi si astfel, din prezentul meu pot privi pe geam androizi teleghidati de senatori cu masti de monstrii. Si-i vad pe toti hazardandu-se ca niste andabati spre o iluzie ce se plateste cu viata... si bani. Un fel de bomba cu efect ireversibil e pusa in terenul asta minat imens. Jocul pe care ei il joaca e atingerea idealului, miza: viata! Plini de nestiinta si cu un picior in mormant, androizii se zbat pentru o bucata de paine si un loc respectat in societatea noastra manjita cu rahat. Un fel de spectru sonor plin de mixuri de vibratii induce androizii in erori. Muzica le curata retinele si le sparge castile. Mai sunt nebuni rapusi de monstrii care se spala cu putere, si soldati morti, pe campul de lupta, dar in Infernul in care dracii sunt teleghidati exista singurul fir spre iesire... muzica. Contempland de la geamul meu opac, din proiectia trecutului in viitor, realizez un tablou avangarde al imensului teren minat plin de orbi. N-as rade ilar daca n-as stii ca acolo le e tuturor scris sa sfarseasca, dar poate doar speranta are voie sa moara altundeva.. Si e ciudat.. Ma simt ciudat, stand aici si privind la EI. Podeaua nu mai trepideaza in acelasi ritm.. afara sunt mereu alte persoane. Timpul isi pune masca de gladiator si se lupta cu vieti nevinovate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sa o luam de la inceput. Am mainile pe tastatura si-n cap scenele tripului meu. Disting si combin; tastez si creez; fredonez incet o melodie... In seara asta muzica inseamna mai mult de atat..&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-5906169283649314651?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/5906169283649314651/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=5906169283649314651' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5906169283649314651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5906169283649314651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/07/inceput-cu-trepidatii-spectru-sonor.html' title='Inceput cu trepidatii. Spectru sonor!'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TDtXqJN0SHI/AAAAAAAAAR0/yjbyEuJ6ieM/s72-c/Music_by_3_2_1_Agni.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6371652046970323715</id><published>2010-06-28T13:14:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T13:48:33.404+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cafea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='schizofrenie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oboseala'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='psihoza'/><title type='text'>Psihoza, oboseala. Prea multa cafea.</title><content type='html'>Timpul sta amortit pe scaunul din bucataria mica a aceluiasi apartament infect in care am crescut atata vreme. Acolo unde ceasul arata mereu ora 15.00 mananc si beau, tip si plang, inghit lacrimi si tac, scriu si citesc...privesc. Afara e o anemie a copacilor si o moarte clinica a oamenilor, care candva radeau cu sunete melodioase, nu cu sirene de salvari. Ma indrept setata pe slow motion spre balcon. Acolo e liniste, iar Timpul imi zambeste dintr-un unghi intunecat, contempland miscarile mele. Un copil pare sa treaca prin fata blocului zugravit cu certuri imature ale adultilor maturizati din timp si cu rahaturi copilaresti ce nu si-ar fi avut rostul in niciun apartament. Dar este totul vag. Copilul ramane doar o impresie ce ma baga in tripul anormalului, scotandu-ma din mediul profan! Cu o cafea improvizata din zatul de acum trei seri si putina apa calda, ma asez brutal pe un fier vechi ratacit in incinta asta nesuferita, asa-zisul balcon. Cu un ranjet smintit si o privire de lunetist Timpul se misca in jurul meu si ma ameteste. Papusarul se joaca din nou cu papusa si astfel ajung intr-o cadere libera. In deriva sa pulsez, sa-mi pulseze inima... ma chinui si dau din maini disperata incercand sa ma prind de orice fir. Dar ma opresc brusc la etajul cinci al blocului mizer cu zece etaje. De undeva de sus, papusarul rade isteric. Ii pot auzi ecoul schizofrenic imbinat cu Balada lui Porumbescu. Se pare ca vecinul este din nou melancolic. Am ochii fixati pe mecla lui, iar mecla lui e indreptata spre mine, insa ochii sunt inchisi. Prin geamul care ne desparte mai pot sa vad un televizor si o scrumiera. In scrumiera zace Timpul relaxat cu o lista in mana. As vrea sa cad acum pe nenorocitul ala de pamant si sa nu mai simt dracului presiunea asta. Dar Dumnezeul meu nu ma lasa asa rapid, si ajung brusc intr-o gaura neagra. Sfidez teorii consecvente si ma lupt cu praful de stele care vrea sa-mi intre in ochi. Il las sa-mi stearga retina violent, cum fac si medicamentele beta-blocante asupra memoriei. Si cad intr-un final pe asfaltul rece cu tampla dreapta la inaintare. Zac intr-o balta de cafea improvizata din apa calda si niste zat vechi de vreo trei zile; intorc cu degetul aratator limbile ceasului pana la ora 15.00 ieri, nu azi! Ma uit uimita in jur si vad vag un copil care ar vrea sa treaca prin fata bloclui, dar evita nedumerit. Inchid geamul si golesc o scrumiera in care zac niste filtre de tigari, un servetel si o lista uitata de Timp. Inchid televizorul care scuipa emisiuni psihedelice si ma bag in pat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Afara latra necontenit un caine.&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/1110655920772142130-6371652046970323715?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6371652046970323715/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6371652046970323715' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6371652046970323715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6371652046970323715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/06/psihoza-oboseala-prea-multa-cafea.html' title='Psihoza, oboseala. Prea multa cafea.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6485788176449859661</id><published>2010-06-09T18:17:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T23:12:38.710+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cine sunt?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TA__4l9mgCI/AAAAAAAAARg/HAg1lTp2KPE/s1600/goodarzi+176+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TA__4l9mgCI/AAAAAAAAARg/HAg1lTp2KPE/s320/goodarzi+176+copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480880619261427746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Eu sunt ceea ce tu numesti Big Bang. Din mine se creaza lumea.Sunt praful unei stele in cadere; umbra unei frunze in tacere; vantul printre ramuri; soarele obosit ( numai pentru Terra ). Eu sunt ceea ce Charles Darwin a numit " Teorie Evolutionista ". Sunt prima idee care ti-a fulgerat gandurile; prima harta; primul sarut.. " Povestea mea-i regretul ". Eu sunt evolutia in sine a sutelor de teorii; sunt adaptarea ta la viata; racnetul pe care-l scoti si intri in convulsii - racnetul de dimineata care-l iei din fata usii. Eu sunt o poza vie ce intinde mana sa iti fure inima; o carte veche necitita; o foaie alba cu proza neterminata. Sunt visul tau din dimineata-n care te-ai trezit speriat; o statuieta in centrul orasului; o vioara ce-si canta povestea. Sunt genul de situatie fara iesire; sunt un televizor alb-negru la care ruleaza ultima stire...sunt...un catalizator de care ai nevoie, dar sunt departe si anevoie ajungi la mine. Eu sunt, un heruvim si iti dau aripile mele ( sa zbori incet, sunt prea fragile, sper ca ai grija de ele! ). Mai sunt, un film cu un subiect de neelucidat; trec din psihologie in iubire din comedie in drama. Sunt calatorul impasibil in fata vremii, inocent, batut de soarta si de anii tristi ai vremii. Eu sunt de la Freud la Tom si Jerry, de la Scorsese la Alighieri; un semn de intrebare iarna, un punct prin vant, ratacit toamna; rozeta care-ti muta nasul; momentu-n care arunci pe masa asul.. Sunt, o singura privire veninoasa ce te amorteste si primul inamic al tau care de 3 ani te pazeste. Vezi tu... am fost Big Bangul si eu am creat lumea cand... soarele a obosit si a schimbat vremea. Stii, am fost ceea ce ei numesc mari realizari, nume pe buze, titluri mari in rubrici dese scrise-n ziar. Am intalnit si am iubit si am furat sa daruiesc. Sunt fara aripi, fara filme fara griji si tot mai cresc. Dar o sa fiu Gaura Neagra si o sa-nghit intreaga lume, intreaga mea creatie, zile de stres, de draci si mii de antume. Eu sunt... credinta ta in nemuritor, o floare de la colt de strada, un muncitor la abator.. Sunt firul de speranta de care atarni, pe care urci spre fericire dar langa care te darami. Sunt o lucrare la romana plina de aberatii sau si mai simplu eu sunt Bianca, fiindca asa imi spun altii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/O61817/be88b678a96afb.swf"&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;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=127&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Kazi%20Ploae%20-%20Nimic%20nu%20e%20o%20concluzie%20cu%20Silent%20Strike"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/O61817/be88b678a96afb.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=127&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Kazi%20Ploae%20-%20Nimic%20nu%20e%20o%20concluzie%20cu%20Silent%20Strike"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Inghite asta!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/1110655920772142130-6485788176449859661?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6485788176449859661/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6485788176449859661' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6485788176449859661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6485788176449859661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/06/cine-sunt.html' title='Cine sunt?'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TA__4l9mgCI/AAAAAAAAARg/HAg1lTp2KPE/s72-c/goodarzi+176+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-410093382596721355</id><published>2010-06-01T22:12:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T21:41:30.254+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hades'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='himeric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relativitate'/><title type='text'>Pentru cei ce ma cunosc: Salut, noroc!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TAVcTwQHXmI/AAAAAAAAARQ/9q_HeetqUbY/s1600/Selfillumination_by_Kutsche.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TAVcTwQHXmI/AAAAAAAAARQ/9q_HeetqUbY/s320/Selfillumination_by_Kutsche.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477886016205839970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nu m-a lasat Hades sa pasesc pe portile pe care le pazea decat in realitate. Mi-a pus bariere in vis, cat despre imaginatie, a spart-o ca o oglinda in fata mea. Ma puteam vedea vag in cioburi, imi era frica. Era frig peste tot, sau mai de graba curent. Atat vant cat si curent electric. Simteam ca nu mai apartin nimanui, cand deodata m-a lovit Newton cu teoria lui. Mergeam pe perete si cladeam nori de aer pe care urcam spre tavan. Sfidam tot ceea ce se descoperise pana atunci, cat despre inventii, simteam ca toate-mi apartin mie. Cei ce le-au creat erau parti din vocea mea. Priveam spre infinit, si intindeam mana sa ii simt capatul. Dar am intins-o la nesfarsit si inca o fac, in zadar. Se prind de ea amintiri si fapte, dar capatul nu-i nicidecum acolo. Alerg cot la cot cu timpul dar il sfidez si pe el cand o iau pe scurtaturi. El face salturi in gol, in viata mea... si eu ma trezesc tipand disperata dupa Chronos. Pe peretii ce se tot cladesc pe langa mine pe post de scut o vad atarnata pe Venus, care-si intinde mainile dupa Botticelli sa-l sarute ca a creat-o. Vad un fel de Adam si Eva in varianta pictor – model, doar ca aici Eva este prinsa intr-un paspartu, iar Adam ramane nedumerit in catacombele vietii. Tot mai des, cu masti din Venetia imi surade timpul, nervos de reusita mea. O fura cu el pe Ioana D’Ark care moare totusi arsa pe rug de minciuni si paranoia. Dam amandoi Rondul de Noapte al lui Rembrandt si-n pauzele din cursa vietii il criticam pe Maiorescu. Vizitam palate si dam idei pentru arhitectura. Instauram stilul gotic si cladim cu mainile lor caramida cu caramida. Plutim prin spatiu deasupra gaurilor din stratul de ozon si sfarsim razboaie cu cate un Cocktail Molotov. Am alergat odata cu timpul pana azi cand... m-am intors in patul meu si-n ceea ce numesc eu relativitate. Dau mana cu Einstein si sfarsesc calatoria cu un somn convulsionat... Dar la dracu, e iar 18:07, si iar imi suna telefonul sa ma trezeasca dupa o insolatie usoara..&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/1110655920772142130-410093382596721355?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/410093382596721355/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=410093382596721355' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/410093382596721355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/410093382596721355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/06/pentru-cei-ce-ma-cunosc-salut-noroc.html' title='Pentru cei ce ma cunosc: Salut, noroc!'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TAVcTwQHXmI/AAAAAAAAARQ/9q_HeetqUbY/s72-c/Selfillumination_by_Kutsche.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2512568023530727112</id><published>2010-06-01T22:09:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T22:11:56.433+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mihai Beniuc - Versuri De Toamna Tarzie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mahnirile se lasa pe sufletul meu iar&lt;br /&gt;Ca negura de toamna pe campul solitar.&lt;br /&gt;Grabit s-aduna stoluri si pleaca undeva.&lt;br /&gt;Ma doare vara stinsa si amintirea ta.&lt;br /&gt;Fara folos taria innourata plange,&lt;br /&gt;Incheaga asfintitul baltoaca lui de sange&lt;br /&gt;Si ca o zdreanta uda pe lume cade seara&lt;br /&gt;Prin ceata muntii garbovi abia-si mai duc povara ...&lt;br /&gt;La ce bordei cu geamuri aprinse-n bezna rosii&lt;br /&gt;Voi bate cand a ploaie se vor porni cocosii?&lt;br /&gt;Mi-i dor sa stau la masa sub lampa cu petrol,&lt;br /&gt;S-ascult cum plange ploaia cu glasul ei domol,&lt;br /&gt;Sa rasfoiesc alene o carte si sa-mi para&lt;br /&gt;Odaia taraneasca prin fumul de tigara&lt;br /&gt;Visatul cuib de calde si blande fericiri –&lt;br /&gt;Porneste lin vioara tristetii-n amintiri.&lt;br /&gt;Scolarule, tii minte? Caietul de latina&lt;br /&gt;Era-nsemnat pe margini cu versuri ce suspina&lt;br /&gt;Si inflorea departe un dulce pui de om.&lt;br /&gt;Dar altii scuturara copt rodul scump din pom.&lt;br /&gt;Pe urma alte unde s-au scurs pe matca vremii.&lt;br /&gt;Am poposit odata la marginea poemii&lt;br /&gt;Si am intrat in casa si n-am vrut sa mai plec.&lt;br /&gt;Din vinul poeziei beam pana la inec.&lt;br /&gt;Dar nu stiu cum azi vinul a devenit salciu.&lt;br /&gt;Satul de mine insumi un altul vreau sa fiu.&lt;br /&gt;De-aceea poate astazi cand negura se lasa&lt;br /&gt;Ma podideste dorul sa am si eu o casa –&lt;br /&gt;Un pic de bucurie cu altii in comun,&lt;br /&gt;Cui lucruri ne’nsemnate si gingasii sa-i spun –&lt;br /&gt;Ci fara margini ceata pe campul ud se-ntinde&lt;br /&gt;Si nici un geamin bezna lumina nu-si aprinde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Simteam o deosebita nevoie sa o recitesc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;P.S: Mersi Heli &gt;:D&lt;, de la tine stiu de ea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-2512568023530727112?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2512568023530727112/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2512568023530727112' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2512568023530727112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2512568023530727112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/06/mihai-beniuc-versuri-de-toamna-tarzie.html' title='Mihai Beniuc - Versuri De Toamna Tarzie'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6555569055028503670</id><published>2010-05-29T23:50:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T00:35:58.193+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oniric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='himeric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='empiric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PlATON(ic)'/><title type='text'>Empiric, oniric, platonic, noi. Viata.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TAGDWJcYpMI/AAAAAAAAARI/46WVAmnAgJQ/s1600/Music_Is_My_Life__by_MellyBaldin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TAGDWJcYpMI/AAAAAAAAARI/46WVAmnAgJQ/s320/Music_Is_My_Life__by_MellyBaldin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476803038374569154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Imi aluneca inima prin coaste usor, ca mana ta pe corpul meu... Nimic pervers. Iubeam de la pasari la instrumente de scris; de la nori la luna; de la stele la pistrui. Ma uitam insetata prin televizorul care ma mintea cu gandul in zeci de directii, la atat de multe intersectii. Priveam cu ochii impaienjeniti de somn emisiuni proaste fara sa inteleg, ascultam doar. Atipeam si ma trezeam suferind de un delir oniric. Aveam cearcane negre ca nesul dar uitandu-ma in oglinda le iubeam si pe ele. Traiam intr-o perioada platonica a mea, total abstracta si pictam in somn tot ce nu puteam sa zic in timpul zilei. Trasam linii pe cer ( si nu ma refer la cocaina ), stiind ca toate duc spre tine. Alergam pe ele saptamani intregi si te atingeam cateva ore. Transformam orele in stana de piatra si astfel puneam in balanta orele cu zilele, sa-mi fie egale toate. Paradoxal, orele cu tine au intrecut pana si intregii mei ani ( si se stie ca datez inca de cand dinozaurii erau pui ). Paseam empiric totusi, nelipsita de logica in nicio miscare de-a mea pe strada principala a mintii mele. Actionam poate brusc, poate ciudat, poate isteric. Ma trezeam dimineata fara cafea si cu o dorinta puternica de energie. Auzeam de la banalitati pana la aforisme; de la tine pana la noi; de la mine pana la tine; de la noi pana la infinit! Citeam de multe ori la o lumina pala, carti a caror filosofie mi se parea pura banalitate, dar totusi n-am gandit-o eu prima. Si ma sculam in miez de noapte cu citate ce-mi ramaneu in minte si ma inspirau puternic. Imi treceau prin cap ganduri cu o sagetare extraordinara si le aruncam pe A4. Varuiam cu astrii stinsi si cu praf de stele peretii camerei care mi-a suportat atat de mult schizofrenia. Ascultam incet o melodie sub o plapuma veche, poate roasa de molii si-mi stimulam timpanul. Inchideam ochii ca sa ma trezesc dimineata si sa o iau de la capat. Sa fiu lipsita de cafea si de griji si sa am o pofta nebuna de energie... Sa privesc insetata in gol si sa trasez din nou linii pe cer, spre tine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/ktaz/6de4de326588df.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=273&amp;amp;titluEmbed=K-Gula%20feat%20C.T.C%20-%20Cum%20vezi%20viata"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand vezi demonii printre pleoape,&lt;br /&gt;Cand semenii vor sa te sape,&lt;br /&gt;Da timpul inainte.&lt;br /&gt;Zi-mi ce intrevezi in cateva cuvinte,&lt;br /&gt;Te vezi alergand prin viata ca un sprinter?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/1110655920772142130-6555569055028503670?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6555569055028503670/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6555569055028503670' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6555569055028503670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6555569055028503670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/05/empiric-oniric-platonic-noi-viata.html' title='Empiric, oniric, platonic, noi. Viata.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/TAGDWJcYpMI/AAAAAAAAARI/46WVAmnAgJQ/s72-c/Music_Is_My_Life__by_MellyBaldin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3977007528802366924</id><published>2010-05-27T23:00:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T23:37:47.736+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='profan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='himeric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nervozitate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NU mai stiu sa dorm'/><title type='text'>And so on.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S_7WfNRQO1I/AAAAAAAAARA/cGeZTeDfZxY/s1600/France_by_JACPhotography.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S_7WfNRQO1I/AAAAAAAAARA/cGeZTeDfZxY/s320/France_by_JACPhotography.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476050028555418450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Am trecut si prin saptamana asta. Slava cerului ca nu mai e mult pana la vacanta. Mai am vreo 2 conturi de reglat, dar nu stiu daca o sa misc prea multe acum si-n fond doar sfarsitul conteaza. O sa ajung iar intr-un mediu profan aiurind prin tara. Nu-mi place sa stau in acelasi loc, nu-mi place si nici nu o fac. Sa zicem ca anul asta a fost putin mai ciudat ca toate, dar am invatat ce inseamna sa faci fata la prea multe, desi sunt obosita acum. Am o panica interioara uneori ( si zic interioara pentru ca nu o exteriorizez ). E putin spus nebuna, as crede-o oarecum himerica dar cred in ea si stiu ca exista, asa cum cred in tot ceea ce mi se intampla, dar cu greu constientizez. Incerc sa ma studiez pe mine, dar mi se pare mai greu ca tailandeza scrisa in hindu de mayasi. Cred ca intreaga mea viata am fost o persoana calma, cat despre faptul ca sunt capricorn, mereu am zis ca n-am legatura cu zodia asta. Am gresit. Sunt impulsiva. Sa fiu eu oare sau doar oboseala si stresul? NU, nu cresc copii si nici nu ma impart intre doua slujbe dintre care una cu juma' de norma ( sfert, ca acum nici jumate nu se mai da ), atata doar ca daca n-am stiut cum sa reactionez atunci cand a trebuit, izbucnesc acum din orice. S-au adunat multe in mine. Le stii si tu, le stiu si eu, le stiu si ei " chiar daca eu n-as vrea sa stie ". N-am inteles termenul de nervozitate decat ca pe o idiotenie. Acum il inteleg ca pe o alta lume. Nervozitatea mea se imparte in niste stari de spirit combinate cu un amalgam de cuvinte care apar fara rost si n-au coerenta. Si ma trezesc brusc aruncand cu sulite ( asa-zise cuvinte ) dintr-o galerie subterana in nevinovati. Dar ma bucur ca au ricosat cumva si au ajuns tot in mine. Mi-e greu sa ma trezesc uneori si continui prea mult sa gresesc. Nu adorm prea des, dar nu e bine oricum cand o fac... Cat despre adevaratul meu somn, pot sa spun ca nu prea mai exista. Unii se chinuie sa se trezeasca...dar intr-o alta parte a lumii ma chinui eu mototolind cearceaful sub mine, sa adorm. Poate ma obisnuisem sa ma tii tu in brate cand inchid ochii, si de aia nu mai stiu cum sa adorm. Degeaba inchid ochii, frigul nu mi-l ia nimeni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In fond, eu nu mai vreau decat tacere.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Silentio stampa?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Neah, just summer.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/emotykon/a3ae931ef4ef6d.swf"&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;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=261&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Bloodhound%20Gang%20-%20Discovery%20channel"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/emotykon/a3ae931ef4ef6d.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=261&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Bloodhound%20Gang%20-%20Discovery%20channel"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/1110655920772142130-3977007528802366924?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3977007528802366924/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3977007528802366924' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3977007528802366924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3977007528802366924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/05/and-so-on.html' title='And so on.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S_7WfNRQO1I/AAAAAAAAARA/cGeZTeDfZxY/s72-c/France_by_JACPhotography.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3485092498470960622</id><published>2010-05-24T12:51:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T13:40:22.488+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imaginatie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='himeric'/><title type='text'>Catacombe.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S_pWhbEdauI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/lYllv9goz6M/s1600/dsc_6139_web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S_pWhbEdauI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/lYllv9goz6M/s320/dsc_6139_web.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474783429224393442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;M-am confruntat cu bazele imaginatiei mele dar m-au invins periplu. Am intrat in cele mai adanci suprematii ale imaginatiei mele si as fi preferat sa stau undeva langa, contempland doar. Nebunesc, alergam si incercam sa ies, dar iesirile erau baricadate, cat despre geamuri, pot sa spun ca nici nu existau. Nu era un fel de apartament al imaginatiei, ci mai de graba un intreg bloc intr-o continua constructie, caci imaginatia mea nu are limite, nu are granite, sau poate doar pe cea cu realul, dar e putin cam imposibil sa sari dintr-o lume in alta si-n pur fapt, oricum corpul e in real, aici vorbeam de minte. As fi vrut poate de cele mai multe ori sa fie invers, dar oricum ar fi fost, niciodata intreaga fiinta nu ar fi apucat sa se bucure de intregul rod al imaginatiei. Si ce este imaginatia de fapt? O lume himerica sau " un fruct al memoriei noastre " ? Imaginatia mea nu consta nici in himeric, nici in memorii, e o pura amestecatura de nebunie cu versuri, de nebunie cu proza, de nebunie cu muzica sau carti. O pura amestecatura de Kant si Platon; de Blaga si Dostoievski; de Specii si Smashing Pumpkins si se intinde de la Hades la Ra. Pura mea amestecatura e de fapt pura nebunie, pe care eu o numesc imaginatie. Limita nu e nici cerul, fiindca dincolo de el sunt mult prea multe. Imaginatia e startul a tot ceea ce am inceput sa construiesc in viata si probabil finalul a tot ceea ce-mi va mai ramane dupa. Imaginatia mea sfideaza gravitatia si biblia, nefacand diferenta intre Rai sau Iad, necrezand in ele. Imaginatia mea crede intr-o oarecare egalitate a oamenilor, dar nu pe timpul vietii. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;...cat despre declinul pe care-l va suferi cand o sa se sparga, prefer sa zic ca nu exista. Daca ceva ar trebui sa fie nemuritor, atunci imaginatia ar trebui sa fie si NU, nu moare odata cu noi, fiindca eu nici in moarte nu cred. Nu o numesc asa.&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-3485092498470960622?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3485092498470960622/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3485092498470960622' title='8 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3485092498470960622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3485092498470960622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/05/catacombe.html' title='Catacombe.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S_pWhbEdauI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/lYllv9goz6M/s72-c/dsc_6139_web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4473510203194602790</id><published>2010-05-12T22:48:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T23:08:18.335+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Asta-i o lume de papusi cu sfori.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-sKrK3hdwI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-ya1AJSPAm4/s1600/422a7ddb16fd04c5eab443e74f8a8784.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-sKrK3hdwI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-ya1AJSPAm4/s320/422a7ddb16fd04c5eab443e74f8a8784.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470477909139486466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Am inceput sa cred in nebunia lumii, si practic am ajuns sa o vad ca pe o doctrina. Zbuciumul intrebarilor intr-o societate lamentabila ca aceasta nu isi are rostul, ecoul lor insa, DA! Tot timpul am sustinut ca insistenta, in anumite cazuri este buna si da, mi-am dovedit mie ca este asa ( nu intelegeti ca sfidez proverbul: Tacerea este de aur. ) Am citit zilele trecute un articol pe un blog si m-a inspirat, dar n-am stiut cum sa fac vizibila inspiratia mea. Se referea la una dintre cele mai scurte si complexe intrebari ale acestei nebunii: De ce?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;- cere un raspuns&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;- are un scop&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;- stie ca cineva ar trebui sa fie menit sa raspunda&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;- nu are o limita de raspuns la fel cum nu are nici o limita de intrebare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Si este practic, de asemenea la fel de enervanta. Dar mi s-a parut interesant, si de aici am ajuns la insistenta. Nu e neaparat vorba despre astea, dar mintea mea debiteaza si da in tot felul de gropi ( nu ca necrofilii ) sau in tot felul de izvoare ale cunoasterii, paradoxale. Am realizat ceva lucruri zilele astea, si anume ca suntem scalvii propriului sistem.. propriului sistem ales de noi. Ni se vand iluzii, si am perfecta dreptate. EI ar spune ca se dau gratis, dar nu-s nicidecum ca aerul. Platim pentru intregul haos care ne darama. Unii muncesc 8 ore pe zi ca sa plateasca bugetarii, si plus, li se mai taie si din salariu mai nou. Ni se vinde iluzia de libertate, dar singura libertate pe care o tinem in maini si de care profitam este ziarul de la chiosc. N-a mai incercat nimeni sa ajunga cu adevarat la ea, sau cei ce au incercat clar nu au facut-o aici...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Si e trist, chiar daca Mircea Badea spune ca trist a devenit un termen mult prea general, folosit inutil... E trist, si asta e total vizibil!&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/1110655920772142130-4473510203194602790?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4473510203194602790/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4473510203194602790' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4473510203194602790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4473510203194602790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/05/asta-i-o-lume-de-papusi-cu-sfori.html' title='Asta-i o lume de papusi cu sfori.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-sKrK3hdwI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-ya1AJSPAm4/s72-c/422a7ddb16fd04c5eab443e74f8a8784.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6270438866564820349</id><published>2010-05-12T22:27:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T22:45:47.678+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Om liber, vei iubi intotdeauna marea.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-sE440G3aI/AAAAAAAAAQo/3zuTE8fqUaE/s1600/Bulgaria+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-sE440G3aI/AAAAAAAAAQo/3zuTE8fqUaE/s320/Bulgaria+071.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470471547741724066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-sEv14B2PI/AAAAAAAAAQg/cC201H4Nn_I/s1600/Bulgaria+088+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-sEv14B2PI/AAAAAAAAAQg/cC201H4Nn_I/s320/Bulgaria+088+copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470471392334043378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Om liber, vei iubi intotdeauna marea. (C. Baudelaire)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-sER4r2w6I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/wN7M1tXg2_E/s1600/DSC01624.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/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-sER4r2w6I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/wN7M1tXg2_E/s320/DSC01624.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470470877692216226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-6270438866564820349?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6270438866564820349/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6270438866564820349' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6270438866564820349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6270438866564820349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/05/om-liber-vei-iubi-intotdeauna-marea.html' title='Om liber, vei iubi intotdeauna marea.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-sE440G3aI/AAAAAAAAAQo/3zuTE8fqUaE/s72-c/Bulgaria+071.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-8091472732453942008</id><published>2010-05-11T20:16:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T22:06:01.155+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PE CARE'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scaun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oglinda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metamorfoza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IN CARE'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fictiune'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='realitate'/><title type='text'>Un fel de a zice.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-mb--LedXI/AAAAAAAAAQI/6B8Xo69twz4/s1600/682f6c603c2f1f1f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-mb--LedXI/AAAAAAAAAQI/6B8Xo69twz4/s320/682f6c603c2f1f1f.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470074728563504498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Nu mai scap filosofii printre randuri fiindca, in fine... EI interpreteaza orice. M-am distrus aseara in vis. Ma intalnisem pe mine intr-o ratiune moralizatoare. Eram de-o frenezie totala si pictam abstract tot ce vedeam, cu detalii, ca Balzac. Stateam pe un scaun in mijlocul orasului , dar pe foaie era o camera plina &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;de anarhisti. Traiam speriata pe scaunul din centrul orasului meu nebun  si incercam sa pictez cuvinte. Mi se murdarise pensula de cuvintele lui Hugo si ale lui Nietzsche. Impleteam fictiunea cu pura realitate IN CARE traiam nu PE CARE o traiam si era simplu. Traind in frenezie pana si zambetul a fost obligat sa se adapteze, dar a protestat prin disparitie. Invatand sa accept ca traiesc unde traiesc, am ajuns sa fiu inchisa intre patru pereti peticiti cu bucati din diferite oglinzi de mult sparte. Si asa am ajuns sa stau holbata la propriile-mi bucati de viata, jucandu-ma cu o minge anti-stress pe care scria TIMP. Si o tot mototoleam si aruncam prin toate colturile...am ajuns sa o umflu cu o pompa pana cand a plesnit. Am dilatat timpul pana cand nu am mai avut ce. E un fel de efect imediat al metamfetaminei asupra pupilei ( atata doar ca pupila nu bubuie ). In fata lui Cronos sunt din nou un simplu muritor, intr-o metamorfoza pura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Si-am apucat sa zic ca nu o sa mai scap filosofii printre randuri niciodata, dar hai sa mintim, sa ne prefacem: Asta e un singur rand!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;N.B! Bucata asta a fost scrisa respectand anumite cerinte dintr-o tema de filosofie.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;*oglinda = viata&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;*exista o permanenta imbinare a realului cu fantasticul&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;*scaun = temeri/ parte de trecut ce inca te leaga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/anna_k/dd844f4f8b4eb1.swf"&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;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=269&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Linkin%20Park%20-%20New%20Devide"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/anna_k/dd844f4f8b4eb1.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=269&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Linkin%20Park%20-%20New%20Devide"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-8091472732453942008?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/8091472732453942008/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=8091472732453942008' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8091472732453942008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8091472732453942008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/05/un-fel-de-zice.html' title='Un fel de a zice.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-mb--LedXI/AAAAAAAAAQI/6B8Xo69twz4/s72-c/682f6c603c2f1f1f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2555029313539855436</id><published>2010-05-09T14:55:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T20:09:54.900+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ploaie'/><title type='text'>E oricum ciudat..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-anPLDBX9I/AAAAAAAAAP0/w7kFKbzJ8ys/s1600/The_Rain_Rain_Rain_Came_Down_by_littlemisslove.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-anPLDBX9I/AAAAAAAAAP0/w7kFKbzJ8ys/s320/The_Rain_Rain_Rain_Came_Down_by_littlemisslove.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469242676593385426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Saptamana trecuta am revazut-o! Scumpa de ea, era mai calma ca niciodata, si atat de curata... Era cald afara si-n ciuda brizei nu tocmai usoare, vremea a fost superba, dar paradoxal s-a stricat, tocmai acum. Norocul meu ca a fost frumoasa cat am mers la mare. Am inceput sa am iar saptamani linistite si e simplu. Se termina scoala, in sfarsit.. dar lung mai pare drumul spre vacanta. Am iesit ieri cat a fost vremea buna. M-am plimbat putin aiurea si imi era sincer dor. Imi era dor fix de orasul in care traiesc de atatia ani, pe care-l vad 24/24... imi era dor. S-a stricat vremea. Ploua dement. Ploua cu opriri. Ploua de parca cerul ar avea crampe. Macar de ar fii balti mari, sa sar in ele. Sa ma uit la stropii aia mici si nebuni care acopera alea cateva bucati uscate de asfalt; sa-mi afund picioarele-n apa... Sa tin in mana stanga o umbrela si cu dreapta sa salut oameni care ies sa simta aerul ploii. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Dar tuna, iar eu nu am cu cine sa ies. Mi-e frica. In bratele furtunii sunt speriata...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Probabil iar o sa lenevesc ca un raton in casa azi. Cel putin am cateva filme in plan, vreau sa le vad. E oricum ciudat, dupa atat de multa vreme sa-mi fie iar frica de ploaie, de un simplu tunet..? Ma simt iar copil, si nu zic ca nu-mi place... dar e oricum ciudat.&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-2555029313539855436?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2555029313539855436/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2555029313539855436' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2555029313539855436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2555029313539855436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/05/e-oricum-ciudat.html' title='E oricum ciudat..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S-anPLDBX9I/AAAAAAAAAP0/w7kFKbzJ8ys/s72-c/The_Rain_Rain_Rain_Came_Down_by_littlemisslove.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-7950415936920173371</id><published>2010-04-25T22:56:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T23:24:42.019+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cand orasul adoarme..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S9Sk8ZRYX4I/AAAAAAAAAPk/taEE7ce27eo/s1600/starry+night+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S9Sk8ZRYX4I/AAAAAAAAAPk/taEE7ce27eo/s320/starry+night+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464173605390147458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cand orasul adoarme deschid geamurile larg. Cand orasul adoarme luminile se sting pe rand. Cand orasul adoarme se aud greierii; se aud sforaituri; se simte un aer rece de noapte; ies fete de mana cu baieti si se duc spre cluburi; apar umbre tarzii la lumina felinarului batran; se aud tocuri subtiri pe asfaltul crapat, grabite...Cand orasul adoarme vorbesc la telefon nebunesc; prind tupeu; ma ratacesc printre blocuri; ma plimb pe corpul tau de la gleze pana la buze; alerg pe strada pustiita; fac slalom printre copacii plantati simetric; prind stele in fuga; rup raze de luna; zdrobesc gandaci mici sub talpa mea grabita; rad delirant, colorat.. sa ma auda toti nebunii care dorm in nopti frumoase, ca asta! Cand orasul adoarme cant melodia noastra sau misc corzile chitarii; pasesc in lumea derizorie din spatele geamului unde cutiile goale de bere se invart in jurul canalelor, unde gangurile sunt pline de certuri, amintiri, dureri si oameni care dorm inclestati de timp. Pasesc in lumea intunecata si plina de pistrui luminosi pe cer, acelasi cer de deasupra mea, deasupra ta, deasupra noastra! Aceeasi bucata infinita ce ne uneste pe toti. Cand orasul adoarme ma spal pe dinti si beau o bere la geam; imi pun doua dorinte pentru stelele ce tocmai au cazut si ma bag in pat, singura. Cand orasul adoarme, eu ma trezesc sa inchid geamul..toate visele astea-mi fac de multe ori frig noaptea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;    &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cand orasul adoarme eu merg la Non-Stop unde e pauza de masa, zambesc si trec mai departe...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/v1c/811d96827c1043.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=432&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Holden%20-%20Ce%20Que%20Je%20Suis"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/v1c/811d96827c1043.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=432&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Holden%20-%20Ce%20Que%20Je%20Suis"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-7950415936920173371?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/7950415936920173371/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=7950415936920173371' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7950415936920173371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7950415936920173371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/04/cand-orasul-adoarme.html' title='Cand orasul adoarme..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S9Sk8ZRYX4I/AAAAAAAAAPk/taEE7ce27eo/s72-c/starry+night+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-7562589007687997618</id><published>2010-04-25T00:43:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T00:49:51.116+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='REALITATEA'/><title type='text'>Himeric.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;               &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eram hiper tensionata ieri cand am mototolit patura sub mine prin pat. Ieri, de fapt, noaptea trecuta. Obisnuiesc sa dorm cu geamul deschis cand e primavara, chiar daca afara nu-i prea cald, in camera e sufocant. Mi-a fost frig ieri, dar blasfemie: tremuram! Am inchis ochii de circa 30 de ori, la 31 am intrat intr-o lume izbitoare. Eram noi doi pe o faleza, rupti amandoi. Tu aveai ochii mici, eu rosii si mirati de oameni. Vedeam sentimentele din tine, dar erau toate tranzitorii, efemere. Te urcasei pe o bucata de piatra, sub noi, era marea... Eram amandoi capitani pe vasul nostru mic, care era mai degraba o caravela. Si panzele erau 3 frunze. Paienjeni si buburuze ne erau ajutoare, si soarele era ghid. Valurile marii erau sonate si in ansamblu cu vantul turbat ne sopteau sonete de la Shakespeare si Minulescu. Versurile ratacite prin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;REALITATEA&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;noastra ne izbeau acum in fata. Oameni tristi ne faceau cu mana de pe mal, dar malul era departe si ei la fel. In bratele marii eram pierduti noi doi, de mana pe caravela noastra. Zambeam necontenit si spargeam valurile cu vorbe. Mi-ai spus ca ti-e cald si soarele s-a suparat. Cerul s-a patat cu nori mari si a inceput furtuna. Aceeasi noi eram pierduti in furtuna. Ne-a inghitit marea involburata pe amandoi si ne-a scuipat departe, pe un mal. Acolo nu aveam faleza si nici caravela. Acolo eram noi doi in pat. Tu, dormind linistit ca un copil obosit dupa 4 ore de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;sotron&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;si&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;v-ati ascuns!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;, iar eu trezita-n miez de noapte cu cearceaful pe jumatate de saltea si cu patura pe jos. In visul meu de 5 minute am fost amandoi capitanii marii. In&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;REALITATEA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;mea nedefinita, am fost amandoi simpli straini ce s-au cunoscut la mare, dar in&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;REALITATEA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;noastra, suntem NOI si marea e iubire...Caravela a inghitit-o apa, noi suntem inca aici!&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/adyblueboy/5e86413fefaf2a.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=181&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Steleverzi%20-%20Nu%20stiu%20cine%20esti"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/adyblueboy/5e86413fefaf2a.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=181&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Steleverzi%20-%20Nu%20stiu%20cine%20esti"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-7562589007687997618?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/7562589007687997618/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=7562589007687997618' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7562589007687997618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7562589007687997618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/04/himeric.html' title='Himeric.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-308314003243396766</id><published>2010-04-24T22:51:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T23:29:31.521+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Diferente</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sub acele ceasului si presiunea timpului mi-am zis sa ma apuc de citit Kant, iar ( in speranta unei mici inspiratii ). M-a debusolat, m-a amuzat, m-a facut sa-l admir ( pe 'ici, pe 'colo, cum se zice ). O singura carte plina de comparatii doar pentru a demonstra o simpla diferenta. Dar diferente sunt oriunde si-ntre orice si nimeni nu se oboseste sa le dezlege. E diferenta intre pisici si caini, intre copii si adulti, geanta si ghiozdan, casa si bloc, claritate si ceata, durere si declin, speranta si fericire, strigat si racnet, simplitate si eleganta, traire si existenta, sublim si frumos ( cum spune Kant ), sex si dragoste. De fapt e diferenta cam in orice. E diferenta si in aceleasi situatii traite de oameni diferiti, fiindca-s sentimente diferite si emotii diferite. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;"E diferenta pana si intre sexul pe gratis si sexul pe bani, chiar daca-i acelasi sex. Ala pe gratis costa mai mult. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Si-n fine, s-o zic p'a dreapta, ar fi anosta lumea daca ar fi totul la fel si e normal sa nu fie. Imi plac diferentele. Sunt cai simple de analiza a situatiilor, de invatare si de evitare. Cai simple urmate de nimeni. Trebuie sa te lovesti cel putin de 2 ori de un lucru ca sa ajungi sa il eviti. E diferenta intre generatii, am mai zis asta, stiu, dar eu la 12 ani nu strigam dupa baieti de 18 ca-s sexi ( eu ma jucam cu bete si papusi, dar betele erau pe post de Ken, ca aveam mai multe Barbie si nu ajungeau baietii pentru fiecare ). Altii aruncau cu pietre in lac si se mirau de efect si altii isi puneau muzica pe iPhone si se mirau de cat de bine se aude basul. No shit! Unii au baut Tec, altii Mojito. Unii aveau papuci de guma, altii Addidas. Ce vremuri mai erau... Eram fana Tom &amp;amp; Jerry, ei sunt fani Avatar. Serile dispareau prin casa mosului de langa ( casa ce candva fusese unitate militara ), acum serile dispar in Bamboo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;" Mi-aduc aminte cum am crescut/ Fragmente din ce-am vazut si ce-am auzit, ce-am facut/ Ce-am trait din trecut/ Ce-am simtit, ce mi-a placut/ Ce m-a inrait, ce m-a calit/ Dar astea au fost de mult... "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nu intentionat am postat asta, pur si simplu e ciudat sa vad cum trece timpul &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;" uniform accelerat "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;, nu ma deranjeaza, sunt doar curioasa de rezultatul final.&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-308314003243396766?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/308314003243396766/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=308314003243396766' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/308314003243396766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/308314003243396766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/04/diferente.html' title='Diferente'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-8946696808927440263</id><published>2010-04-16T23:12:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T23:39:33.518+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cunoasterea metafizica</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S8jKkQLDtNI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/CNEuCYP21MM/s1600/platos_cave_b.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/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S8jKkQLDtNI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/CNEuCYP21MM/s320/platos_cave_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460837272352175314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Incontestabil, intr-o lucrare a sa, Platon a demostrat cum OMUL, desi face parte dintr-o singura lume, poate trai in doua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mitul pesterii, denumit astfel mai tarziu, de catre analisti ne prezinta oamenii ce vad umbrele ( irealul ) sub forma realului. Descoperirea adevaratei realitati este negata de catre cei ce si-au sustinut teoria ( in fine, asta ca sa ma exprim elevat, dar era prostie tota ziua, nicio teorie ) iar acomodarea finala este ratiunea de care dau dovada, acceptand-o. De fapt mitul are mai multe conotatii, mai multe interpretari, dar hai sa vi-l zic si voua. Se zice ca...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;...intr-un loc, undeva sub pamant, ca un fel de pestera, niste oameni erau legati cu lanturi, fara a se putea misca, cu fata spre perete. Drumul spre lumina nu-l vazusera niciodata, nascuti si crescuti fiind in intuneric, cu fata spre perete. Singura sursa de lumina era un foc ce ardea in spatele lor. Prin spatiul dintre foc si spatele oamenilor, treceau sclavi ( de ce tocmai sclavi? pentru ca sclavii erau neinteresanti si total lipsiti de sens aici ) ce purtau in maini animale impaiate, sau " statui umane " cum le zicea el ( adica oameni morti). Umbrele animalelor si oamenilor erau reflectate pe perete, fapt pentru care oamenii traiau cu impresia ca pe perete, este pura realitate, ca umbrele sunt realitatea. Intr-o zi, cineva i-a dezlegat si i-a intors cu fata spre foc, putand astfel sa vada obiectele ale caror umbre li se tot aratau. Descoperind lucrul acesta, au ramas uimiti si fixati pe ideea ca animalele sunt reale si oamenii la fel, nestiind de existenta lumii de deasupra. Pentru ca i-a dezlegat, a incercat sa le si explice ce este cu lumea de afara, dar singura rasplata au fost pietre aruncate in el. I-a scos cu forta din pestera. Multi au murit pe drum, loviti de bolovani sau oboseala, pe multi i-a indrumat si au ajuns afara. AFARA, au orbit cu totii din cauza soarelui. Dar in timp..dupa ani s-au obisnuit si au acceptat sa traiasca in REALITATE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Atentie! Niciun detaliu nu e pus anapoda sau degeaba, astfel: Pestera e clar, lumea sensibila, instabila si gresita, mai exact " lumea realitatii aparente" . Lanturile, sunt doar prejudecatile care ne limiteaza. Focul, e o unda a cunoasterii. Umbrele, sunt imaginile situatiei iluzorii iar animalele si statuile sunt aparente adevarate, realitate fizica ce genereaza idei gresite. Contemplarea lumii din afara pesterii e pura cunoastere metafizica, prin intelectual, iar soarele, ideea de bine, perfectiunea la care nu se ajunge niciodata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Citind, ma regasesc aici de atat de multe ori... De atat de multe ori realitatea mea era pura fictiune si de atat de multe ori o sa mai fie... Bine-a demonstrat Platon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&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:85%;"&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/boboque/a8cfd4e957f8fb.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=190&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Kazi%20Ploae%20si%20Specii%20-%20Imperiul%20Lianelor"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/boboque/a8cfd4e957f8fb.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=190&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Kazi%20Ploae%20si%20Specii%20-%20Imperiul%20Lianelor"&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;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Intr-un joc nejucat..&lt;/em&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/1110655920772142130-8946696808927440263?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/8946696808927440263/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=8946696808927440263' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8946696808927440263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8946696808927440263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/04/cunoasterea-metafizica.html' title='Cunoasterea metafizica'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S8jKkQLDtNI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/CNEuCYP21MM/s72-c/platos_cave_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3021151286304171986</id><published>2010-04-14T23:42:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T23:47:42.584+03:00</updated><title type='text'>EU scriu !</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S8YppaQ4OjI/AAAAAAAAAPI/IlCEU6mSSA8/s1600/m+larga+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S8YppaQ4OjI/AAAAAAAAAPI/IlCEU6mSSA8/s320/m+larga+022.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460097389634796082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;             &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Lumea-n care pe Newton l-a lovit maru-n cap, avea o lume paralela. O lume in care mai binele credea ca poate inlocui binele. E ca la pictura. Cand plansa e gata si frumoasa,o vrei si MAI si o asasinezi ca un adevarat criminal al&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;BINELUI&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;care esti. E lumea in care e de ajuns sa iti descoperi neputintele ca sa te infrangi singur; lumea in care tu esti singura persoana care te poate distruge complet. O lume cu pareri eronate gata sa fie expuse oricand, in care aparitia adevarului, fara pret, e un simplu – fâs! O lume plina de oameni viciati cu idei multe ( nu idioti, ca-n bancurile cu Bula ). Oameni care in repeziciunea lor uita sa fie prompti. Simplitatea nu mai conteaza, traim incojurati de kitch. Ma oftic acum, cand inteleg mai bine ce-i cu inflorirea Romaniei din perioada interbelica. Ma oftic ca oameni exceptionali au fost aruncati in inchisoare si batuti, dar chiar si asa, vorbele nu le-au fost smulse din gura. Scriam intr-o postare anterioara ca generatia pe care o respect este cea care a murit in carcera, si&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;DA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;! Datorita acelei generatii am inteles multe, pacat ca nimeni nu a facut nimic. EI spun ca mai e timp, EU le spun: demonstrati! Presiunile celor din jur pe care le percem ca fiind intinse la maxim asupra noastra sunt simple asteptari. Ei ne cer sa fim noi, noi ne cerem sa facem o viata, sa fim o lume intreaga. N-as vrea sa fiu cum a fost Kant, care „ &lt;em&gt;s-a nascut si a murit &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;ABSOLUT &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;in lumea aceasta &lt;/em&gt;” dar altcumva nu imi mai permit sa ies in evidenta, sau nu momentan. M-as fi legat de  „&lt;em&gt;greseala lor, e invatatura noastra&lt;/em&gt;”, dar greseala lor e calea noastra spre acelasi fapt gresit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarind de la o idee la alta, desi si paragraful asta se leaga cu cel de mai sus, incep asa: Desi suntem batuti in cuie de la sfarsirea ultimul razboi mondial, Romania e totusi patria mea. Poate ca Maiorescu, Tutea, Noica, Minulescu, Eliade, Liiceanu etc. nu va mai straluci nimeni ceva vreme, dar pana atunci macar, tot respectul celor ce au miscat ceva !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Respect si pace !&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-3021151286304171986?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3021151286304171986/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3021151286304171986' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3021151286304171986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3021151286304171986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/04/eu-scriu.html' title='EU scriu !'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S8YppaQ4OjI/AAAAAAAAAPI/IlCEU6mSSA8/s72-c/m+larga+022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-1935096385460180878</id><published>2010-04-13T21:17:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T21:49:27.420+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Inca un zambet, tot eu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S8S8h-NA6pI/AAAAAAAAAPA/SU6c7N2PbpM/s1600/m+larga+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S8S8h-NA6pI/AAAAAAAAAPA/SU6c7N2PbpM/s320/m+larga+008.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459695940099173010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Traiam printre particule de praf si atomi care aveau sa se transforme in CINEVA, ani buni, mai tarziu. Eram speriata la gandul ca intr-o zi o sa ma trezesc in fata realitatii in care oricum traiam. Visam si aveam visuri. Nu le-am implinit. Nu pe toate. Imi doream printre cele mai banale si frenetice lucruri si atarnam ate de primavara ( martisoare, for God's Sake )  in cei mai inmuguriti copaci. Zambeam in fata fiecarei zi si desenam cu crete pe bucati de asfalt. Ingropam amintiri in cutii de napolitane si ma bucuram la orice lucru derizoriu. Aveam club sub scara vecina a blocului meu. Citeam printre cele mai nepotrivite paragrafe ale celor mai nepotrivite carti si nu intelegeam. Acumulam cat mai multe cunostinte inutile pe care inca le tin minte si le povestesc, ca sa-i enervez si pe altii. Ranjeam sfios cand greseam sau boceam cateva minute ( depindea de situatie ). Dadeam ture blocului, pana sa descopar alta parte a orasului, asa-zisul " centru ". Ma jucam cu nisip si-mi juleam genunchii-n pietrele ascutite din spatele blocului. Aveam prietenii mei de la scara cu care-mi planuiam bucati de copilarie si langa care visam. Incercam sa-nteleg mecanismul bicicletei. Nu eram retorica, fiindca m-am nascut cu alergie la prostie si prosti ( si la anumite alimente, dar nu ma afecteaza asa tare ). Adunam stele in palma mea mica si le lipeam in gand. Adormeam cu ele si-n serile senine le dadeam diferite forme. Pictam pereti cu schite scoase dintr-o minte de copil, anoste. Eram copilul imbracat larg, in culori delirante, cu ciocolata pe fata, fara servetele-n buzunar. Acum sunt copilul lipsit de griji aparent si cu servetele-n geanta. Inca adun stele-n palma si inca pictez schite, dar pe foi. Inca visez, dar nu cu prietenii de la scara..Nostalgica copilarie.. mi-e atat de dor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Singurul Paradis, pierdut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-1935096385460180878?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/1935096385460180878/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=1935096385460180878' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1935096385460180878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1935096385460180878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/04/inca-un-zambet-tot-eu.html' title='Inca un zambet, tot eu'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S8S8h-NA6pI/AAAAAAAAAPA/SU6c7N2PbpM/s72-c/m+larga+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-8574408701959403045</id><published>2010-04-09T19:53:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T20:32:27.567+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Spaima de ..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;E terifiant sa ma gandesc la singuratate, fapt pentru care prefer sa uit de ea, dar anumite circumstante ma obliga sa o readuc in memorie. Poate lor le e frica de moarte, de hoti, de betivi, de viata, de durere, de despartiri, de greseli, de nebunie, de absurditate.. Mie mi-e frica de singuratate. E singura mea spaima peste care stiu ca nu as trece daca as trai-o. Stiu sigur ca daca o sa ajung singura o sa innebunesc, desi poate asa ar fi mai bine. Nimeni nu poate stii cum e nebunia, cum e un nebun. As scrie si asa nebuna despre filmele pe care le-as avea sau despre paranoia mea uniforma. Sau as ajunge putin peste Cioran, adanc in pesimism. Dar nici macar spaima asta nu ma face sa dechid porti pentru toti, spre mine. Nu sunt dependenta de oameni si daca va trebui sa sfarsesc singura o voi face. Iubesc, in limite, iar cand limitele sunt depasite, ranile sunt tot mai usor de facut si tot mai imposibil de uitat. Am gresit mult dand sanse oamenilor, doar din spaima mea prosteasca legata de singuratate. E o anomalie, tu poate asa zici, eu sunt complet obisnuita. Nici gandacii nu imi plac, dar as prefera sa plimb cate 3-4 gandaci pe zi pe aleea din fata blocului decat sa ma plimb singura.&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Orice nebun are normalitatea lui. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Orice normal are defectul lui. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Ma gandeam ca nu stiu de ce tocmai azi am vrut sa vorbesc despre singuratate, dar mint, caci e clar cum ma lovesc de tot mai multi oameni tristi si singuri, si ma apasa pe mine gandurile lor impletite cu ale mele sau mai bine zis, cu frica mea. Am fost plecata si, am vazut multe, ce-i drept - aveam o presanta nevoie de a schimba aerul si de a-mi regasi punctele de inspiratie. Nu ca ramasesem neaparat fara, dar macar pe aici, era intr-o forma mult mai linistita. Cand esti strain, agitatia-ti pare mai mica. Apuci sa realizezi, sa analizezi, si nu vag. Cata nostalgie acum si cat de repede va trece. E ca herpesul, ca raceala. Trece, dar poate reveni oricand, in fond, e tot acolo, dar nu vizibila mereu. Si-n fine, e poate de la oboseala, ca n-am dormit cine stie ce; e poate de la prea multe vesti si prea putina digestie a lor. Eu sunt fericita momentan ca am oameni pe care sa-i iubesc si care stiu ca nu ma lasa singura, cat despre viitor, nu vreau sa preconizez, vreau doar sa cred ca o sa fie bine, mereu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gh-gzFY85Gw&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&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/gh-gzFY85Gw&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-8574408701959403045?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/8574408701959403045/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=8574408701959403045' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8574408701959403045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8574408701959403045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/04/spaima-de.html' title='Spaima de ..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-1779367618688046405</id><published>2010-04-04T15:40:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T20:14:00.769+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='EI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2012'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='EU'/><title type='text'>Vor s-aduca SFARSITU'</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Desi se stie inceputul fiecarui om, sfarsitul e imposibil de aflat. De asta spun ca nu e pomenit si mi se pare total logic. La ce bun sa stii cand mori? Probabil n-ai face decat sa-ti jelesti fiecare zi pana cand nu va mai fi niciuna. Nu-s importante teoriile in viata si nu e important sa gandesti excesiv la ceea ce oricum se va intampla - sfarsitul. Existente in viata, sunt multe si peste tot dar trairi, doar oamenii care se bucura fara sa bage sfarsitul in discutie, le au. Le place sa va bage in stari de panica, si stiu ca sunteti usor de manipulat (nu includem exceptiile) - de aia va implanteaza in creier bullshituri gen " 2012 = sfarsit ". Probabil acesti EI care nu dorm noaptea, cauta in cele mai adanci portale ale acestei lumi si il vad pe Iuda cu o sulita in mana; sau cauta intr-un portal numit google si-l vad pe Obama, Antichrist. E treaba voastra cum va impartiti ideile si cum va recastigati pierzaniile, dar in opinia mea, existenta e doar o cauza pierduta. Daca Freud a impartit creierul in 3 parti, eu impart lumea in 2, si anume:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;-Existente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;-Trairi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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:85%;"&gt;Existenta e pura fantasma a acestei lumi. Are o bucata de viata prin care trece doar ca sa ajunga la sfarsit.Trairea...ha, asta e ceea ce numesc eu fericire. Cu tot cu dureri ca pana la urma satisfactia vindecarii e mare si acopera tot. Cu tot cu nefericiri, ca pana la urma satisfactia fericirii finale e extraordinara. Si daca ajungi la sfarsit cu un bilant de trairi si lucruri benefice, dorinte implinite sau vise inca neelucidate, esti o bucata de care Universul are nevoie. Dar e nevoie si de idioti care nu fac nimic. EI spun ca e greu sa gandesti si sa faci nimic. EU spun ca lumea asta nebuna, are tot ceea ce poate avea. Nu subestimati si nu zambiti frenetic! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/yonutschwab/261c5ec784f9c3.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=267&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Kst%20-%20doar%20timpul%20intelege%202008"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/yonutschwab/261c5ec784f9c3.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=267&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Kst%20-%20doar%20timpul%20intelege%202008"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Divertisment" title="Divertisment"&gt;&lt;/a&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:85%;"&gt;Lumea e un TOT, si iata ca noi facem parte din el, dar nu dispunem. Atentie!&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/1110655920772142130-1779367618688046405?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/1779367618688046405/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=1779367618688046405' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1779367618688046405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1779367618688046405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/04/desi-se-stie-inceputul-fiecarui-om.html' title='Vor s-aduca SFARSITU&apos;'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-7495318654109727050</id><published>2010-03-30T21:01:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T21:36:54.207+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Generatii</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Iar ii aud bolborosind aberatii,cum ca generatia asta e viitorul.Si asta,la fel ca si celelalte.Asteptarile lor cretine cer ca o generatie,care e practic o multitudine de capete ce aspira spre acelasi ideal,sa scoata toate celelalte generatii din cacat.Pai bine,dar dupa ce fiecare neam l-a ingropat pe celalalt,traditia are vointa de a se pastra,fapt pentru care ori o sa ajunga unu' mai stralucit la putere sa ne ambitioneze pe noi,ori peste noapte David Chesterfield o sa faca magie cu noi sa ne ambitionam singuri si sa ne punem pe munca.Cu cine mama naibii sa lucrezi in Romania?Cu gelatu' de la parter care baga portie de manele zilnic,mai putin in post sau cu gagicile mai gaurite ca stratul de ozon?Poate ca cel mai mare respect il am pentru generatia ce a debutat in euforia realizarii Romaniei Mari si a murit in inchisorile mancate de comunism.Si de atunci ce s-a mai miscat?2 boi consecutivi la putere si-un al 3 lea care n-a iesit din propria-i greseala.Si cine-a mai protestat?Nici dracu.Ma uit la animalele din jur cat de bine traiesc in haos.Pai traiesc - ca n-au nicio grija,nu li se impune nimic.E genul de viata la care viseaza orice muncitor ce trage din greu 10 ore la servici pentru bani de paine,impozite si parfum de la Gucci.Astept un porc la conducere,sa ne scape de toti boii astia.Poate o sa-l astept mult si bine asa cum sunt convinsa ca si el,intr-un alt colt al tarii asteia asteapta.Si-apoi,daca haosul asta l-a anticipat pana si Machivelli,atunci trageti voi concluzia la cat de previzibili suntem [facand referire la oameni in general].Dar este total logic.Daca stii ca nu stii,atunci lasa-te de meseria de cioban.Nu traiesc oile bine fara,dar traiesc oricum mai bine fara boii astia de senatori.Pai si,citeam undeva,niste scrieri de prin '97: "Tineretului de azi ii este mult mai usor decat ne era noua,sa se miste,dar tineretul din ziua de azi se misca mai incet decat se misca dezvoltarea Romaniei in perioada comunismului." Acum cred ca nu se mai misca deloc.E deja de rutina faza.Ei si-au pus baza in voi,voi nu ati facut nimic si v-ati pus baza in noi,care la randul nostru nu vom face nimic si ne vom pune baza in alti ei,si lista goes on.Acum asteptam totusi punctul de oprire,sa vedem daca l-om mai prinde..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Zguduitor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/PrietenCuTine/39c0220dc35679.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=297&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Morometzii%20-%20Romania%20trezeste-te%20%21"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-7495318654109727050?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/7495318654109727050/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=7495318654109727050' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7495318654109727050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7495318654109727050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/generatii.html' title='Generatii'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4079150544124089506</id><published>2010-03-29T20:40:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T20:57:07.247+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre GENIALI -tate.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mai rau ca o greseala sau o victima,este sa ajungi victima din propria greseala.Oamenii,imorali oarecum,cad in propriile curse intinse pentru altii.Mai mult sau mai putin,imoralitatea duce la greseala.Oricum,sa ajungi victima din propria ta prostie,sau victima a propriei tale prostii,este in primul rand o rusine,in al doilea rand - concentrare.Concentrare pentru o solutie...pentru gasirea unei solutii si...ambitie.Cred ca nevoia de ambitie e aproape la fel de intensa ca cea a banilor,gresesc,poate chiar mai intensa,in ideea in care spunem ca avem nevoie mai intai de ambitie ca sa avem bani,niciodata invers.Omul,e singura fiinta cu capacitati infinite,dar idiotenia le acopera pe majoritatea,iar daca nu-i idiotenie e lipsa de vointa si daca nu-i niciuna din ele,atunci e totusi neputina,sau nestiinta de a le folosi pe toate.In esenta,omul e totusi bine facut,bine construit.La ce bun sa ne folosim TOT daca nu stim ca dispunem de TOT ( si aici bineinteles,nu ma refer la oameni invalizi sau ceva de gen - exceptiile raman totusi exceptii).Pe o alta parte a foii stau si ma gandesc la genii.Sa fie oare ele supranumite asa datorita abilitatii cu care dibacesc virtutiile sau pentru continua lor descoperire?Poate asta ii face de fapt geniali,ca descopera.Dar pe cine mint EI,NOI?Omul e mai mare ca Universul si Universul e urias.Cum sa descoperi tu asa ceva - omul?Nu il va stii nimeni in intreg.Si cel mai mare geniu e nimic cand e vorba de geniul mortii in natura asta fada (si aici il sustin pe Tutea).Genialitatea noastra,a oamenilor,e doar o treapta mediocra a genialitatii pure si citez: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;" Cel mai mare geniu al lumii,pus in fata lui Dumnezeu,este var primar cu idiotul."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/gan_187/a863746228e57e.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=79&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Apathy%20-%20Checkmate"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/gan_187/a863746228e57e.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=79&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Apathy%20-%20Checkmate"&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;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-4079150544124089506?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4079150544124089506/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4079150544124089506' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4079150544124089506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4079150544124089506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/despre-geniali-tate.html' title='Despre GENIALI -tate.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2249541097406734801</id><published>2010-03-27T23:37:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T23:37:42.085+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='placiditate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ambitie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='roboti'/><title type='text'>Haos benefic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S66D_4w2DvI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sesIO39O8Mw/s1600/DSC0090+246.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 290px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S66D_4w2DvI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sesIO39O8Mw/s320/DSC0090+246.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453441332384501490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Pornisem cu altceva dar nu puteam dezvolta tema.Era oricum banala.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Intr-o zi,cu acelasi inceput banal,te-am intalnit pe tine.Intr-o dementa de neinteles,a noastra,mi-ai schimbat cursul vietii.A trecut ceva vreme de atunci,si chiar de-ar fi fost o zi,timpul tot pretios ramane.Suntem diferiti dar asamblati la fel.Suntem cu idei identice exprimate diferit.Suntem cu acelasi sentiment.Suntem noi.Suntem pur si simplu noi,simpli noi care ne strecuram prin multe.Certuri confuze si replici dezordonate.Vorbe intarziate sau gesturi de afectiune.Lacrimi si iubire.Tensiunea care ne ambitioneaza...pe mine ma ambitioneaza.O sa fie bine,asa-mi zic mereu.In final (nu stim unde e finalul) o sa fie bine.Nu e pomenit finalul,pentru ca e evident cel mai fad,neinteresant dar totusi atat de important.Nu sunt pomenite multe si asta pentru ca cineva le-a zis 'secrete'.In fond orice secret are proprietarul lui.Orice om are secretul lui.EI zic:" Unele lucruri nu sunt facute ca sa fie spuse."Eu zic...unele lucruri sunt facute degeaba.In fond ce-ar fi viata fara suisuri si coborasuri?Ce-ar fi lumea fara prosti?Nimic,o mare aglomeratie placida.De multe ori,in plina dimineata sangerie,cand ma trezesc cu un cutremur in minte,ma intreb de ce e plin de haos peste tot?E zgomot si pe retina si pe timpan si pe artere.E zgomot si haos in orice.Uite asta da adrenalina vietii.Haosul,asa perfid cum e si-n toata schizofrenia pe care o prezinta,ofera in vietile noastre totusi si un efect pozitiv.In viata mea,atat de pozitiv incat le estompeaza pe cele negative.Atat de mult ma agita,ca dimineata nici cafea nu mai beau.Haosul ma ambitioneaza sa traiesc mai departe si asta conteaza.Ce?Zici ca nu-mi iese bine vreo situatie?Sunt legata de gat cu un lant de probleme si o ancora de greutati ma trage spre fund?Asa e,ca doar sunt om si poate pana acum eram in dubii,dar acum sunt convinsa ca nu o sa traiesc intr-o lume in care totul se potriveste,ca versurile lui Doc cu beat-ul.Primesc suturi in fund dar ma scutur,ca aia mici care abia invata sa mearga,si continui sa merg.Poate ca suntem practic ca niste roboti.Setati sa mergem si sa existam.Poate majoritatea robotilor invata sa traiasca in lumea asta mare,poate majoritatea cedeaza si fac scurtcircuit.Poate pentru unii sfarsitul e oricum la 3 pasi de inceput,poate pentru altii,sfarsitul alearga sa nu fie prins.Poate pentru unii e mai greu sa ia atitudine,poate pentru altii timiditatea e un fel de Death Valey..niciodata nu vor sa ajunga acolo.Poate pentru unii lasitatea e omniprezenta si pesimismul e in floare,ca varsta de 20 de ani.Poate pentru unii viata e frumoasa chiar si cand esti in apa adanca dar nu stii sa inoti.Mici robotei cu un punct comun: Aceeasi lume mare!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/valyunder/834049b1a3cd3d.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=188&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Butch%20-%20Arme%20featuring%20Freestyle%20and%20Dj%20Undo"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/valyunder/834049b1a3cd3d.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=188&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Butch%20-%20Arme%20featuring%20Freestyle%20and%20Dj%20Undo"&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;/span&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/1110655920772142130-2249541097406734801?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2249541097406734801/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2249541097406734801' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2249541097406734801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2249541097406734801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/haos-benefic.html' title='Haos benefic'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S66D_4w2DvI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sesIO39O8Mw/s72-c/DSC0090+246.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3045854769389922989</id><published>2010-03-26T21:06:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T21:07:50.112+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nodoby knows..&lt;/em&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/1110655920772142130-3045854769389922989?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3045854769389922989/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3045854769389922989' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3045854769389922989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3045854769389922989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/nodoby-knows.html' title=''/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-194678796676630340</id><published>2010-03-25T19:23:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T20:07:53.839+02:00</updated><title type='text'>[...]uneori..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Prin toate randurile de alienare ale vietii mele,am descoperit ca desi ciocolata are deja un gust anost,e totusi unul dintre putinele gusturi care-mi da pofta de viata,ma calmeaza,ma tripeaza.E ca o carte pe care o citesti empatic.E ca razele calde ale diminetii care se plimba pe corpul tau dezvelit;ca sotronul de pe asfalt;ca norii ce se risipesc;ca muzica buna;ca ceaiul cald pe care-l sorbi de langa pervaz intr-o noapte rece de iarna;ca o zi cu noroc chior;ca un compliment;ca un vers frumos...Iti dau pofta de viata,si sunt anoste toate.E atat de frumos sa vezi lumea la adevaratul ei nivel,la adevarata ei valoare.Sa te pui in locul potrivit ca o nuanta printre culori,ca un semiton intr-un negativ,ca un vers intr-o melodie.Sa zambesti cand vezi un copil,un balon,o floare.Cand eram mica vroiam sa stiu unde este fericirea,unde o pot gasi,si mi s-a spus: " Fericirea o gasesti si cand dai coltul..blocului,desigur. " Aveam sa inteleg si eu cativa ani mai tarziu -cand creierul meu nu mai era deja la nivelul copilului tamp -ca e adevarat.Lumea e tot aceeasi lume,sentimentele,aceleasi sentimente.Nu tu te invarti in jurul lumii,ci ea in jurul tau.Depinde de tine cum vezi,cum simti,cum arati,cum exprimi.Eu m-am mai destins in ultima perioada,nu stiu de la ce sa fie.Poate doar mintea mea.Poate filmele,muzica,cartile.Poate zambetele mai dese din perioada asta.&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/MeNoName/1a984397602bb8.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=217&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Oren%20Lavie%20-%20Her%20Morning%20Elegance"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/MeNoName/1a984397602bb8.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=217&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Oren%20Lavie%20-%20Her%20Morning%20Elegance"&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;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&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:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Ma atrag extremitatile omenesti,si nu genul ala de atractie.Dar batranii sunt nostalgici,si-mi plac,iar bebeii sunt naivi si mirati...inocenti.Daca intr-un batran pot citi o viata,pe un copil pot picta una.E frumos sentimentul,efemer..ca anotimpurile,dar frumos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Uneori,ma simt si eu copil in lumea asta mare.Uneori...copilului din mine ii mai e frica de intuneric,dar traiesc cu aceeasi pofta de viata de cand ma stiu.Nu sunt doar o simpla existenta a lumii,fac parte din trairile ei,si ea,din trairile mele !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&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/1110655920772142130-194678796676630340?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/194678796676630340/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=194678796676630340' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/194678796676630340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/194678796676630340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/uneori.html' title='[...]uneori..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-7600047715989744622</id><published>2010-03-22T22:00:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T23:38:21.046+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dementa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Noica'/><title type='text'>NU!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cu un ranjet smintit in coltul gurii,izbucnesc ca un vulcan dintr-o cearta cu o singura realizare.Mie cand mi-e rau,le e lor bine...cand le e lor rau,mie mi-e la fel.Macar sa ne sincronizam la ce mai ramane.EI spun ca vorbesc prostii,ca oricum nu-i asa si oricum depinde doar de mine cum imi e.Dar EI,aceeasi EI despre care tot vorbesc(si-o sa va explic imediat care ei),imi fura telecomanda cand imi controlez eu mintea;imi rup granitele si invadeaza teritoriul;fura idei si calca in picioare zambete.Zambetul meu s-a smintit deja.3/4 din viata traim intr-o societate dementa,infecta.Hai sa va explic de fapt cine sunt EI.Sunt simpli oameni,personaje ce fac parte din viata mea(asa zic ei,sau de fapt leviteaza pe langa mai bine zis) ale caror idei sunt limitate,de duzina si extraordinar de superficiale(da,stiu ca e pleonasm,dar hai sa-l luam sub pseudonimul de hiperbola,ca sa demonstrez ceea ce vreau),si-si dau cu parerea desi nu e cazul.EI...sunt genul de oameni care merg pe principiul: "Tacerea e de aur,dar noi purtam argint."Noroc ca singura mea legatura cu personajele alea de hartie,e doar o simpla pasa de cuvinte.Nu ma afecteaza,ba chiar imi place ca am ce corecta,nu ca ideile mele ar fi neaparat bune de bifat,ca la un test,dar sunt idei proprii cel putin,nu de duzina,nu imprumutate,nu cumparate,nu implantate!Nu o sa incetez sa imi expim opiniile,comenteaza,nu mi-e frica de comentarii.O sa ma opun ideilor LOR cum s-a opus Noica regimului comunist.Nu o sa accept sa fac lucrurile pe dos ca Tiriac.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Am si eu principiile mele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&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/1110655920772142130-7600047715989744622?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/7600047715989744622/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=7600047715989744622' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7600047715989744622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7600047715989744622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/nu.html' title='NU!'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-8734718715307143514</id><published>2010-03-21T21:00:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T21:33:09.913+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Si daca din cand in cand...o sa ma primiti in gand..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Socuri electrice-ti trezesc constiinta lovita la cap de pamant.Brutal,se trezeste ametita si-ti acapreaza intregul rationament.Incerci sa fii sceptic fata de propria ta persoana,inchizi ochii.Esti oarecum crispat si extraordinar de speriat.Te incearca senzatii ciudate si sentimente bizare de care ai auzit,ce-i drept...dar imposibil sa le fi si simtit.Deschizi ochii si te pierzi printre caracterele infecte din jur,mintile jegoase si gandurile perverse.Din cauza socului prea puternic,incapabilitatea ta de a realiza ce ti se intampla te stapaneste.Esti invalid mental si incapabil emotional.Din cauza uraganului de sentimente noi,esti un pumn de piatra.Mii de lupte se dau inconstient in interiorul tau.Un heruvim isi cauta infernul.Un sentiment iese triumfator.Calmul de dupa taifun doare mai tare ca oricand.Fara lacrimi,fara ploi,dar atatea locuri distruse.E bine.Acum e genul de tacere care te tine in brate si-ti spune ca o sa fie bine.Stii ca o sa fie bine,desi acum esti inca crispat.Partea buna e ca,nu mai sunt nori pe cer! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Si daca din cand in cand...o sa ma primiti in gand.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-8734718715307143514?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/8734718715307143514/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=8734718715307143514' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8734718715307143514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8734718715307143514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/si-daca-din-cand-in-cando-sa-ma-primiti.html' title='Si daca din cand in cand...o sa ma primiti in gand..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4803292028912305009</id><published>2010-03-20T22:06:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T23:39:20.283+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='placebo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zambete'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Keep on smiling!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Azi a fost o zi tipica si calda.Binedispusa desi alarma a sunat mai tarziu decat trebuia,mi-am inceput dimineata superb.A fost un soare portocaliu mare parte din zi si m-a facut practic sa zambesc,si nu...nu fals,cum au zis ei.Mergeam asa aiurea,neatenta si fericita.Cred ca m-am ales cu o raceala dar nu-mi pasa.Nu-mi pasa ca sistemul meu imunitar e low,eu sunt doar fericita.Am privit azi lumea ca un pictor nebun.Toti erau parca personajele mele.Ma amuzam inconstient de fapt,de ei.A fost senin pentru prima oara dupa atata vreme.N-am crezut niciodata ca o sa apreciez soarele atat de tare.N-am crezut niciodata ca poate conta atat de mult pentru starea mea de spirit.E oricum efectul placebo,stiu.Nu vremea controleaza starile de spirit,noi ne lasam influentati,dar nu-mi pasa.Suntem oameni,gresim.Greselile sunt raspunsuri la multe intrebari.Intrebarile sunt la randul lor inceputul unor noi probleme si problemele actuale sunt rezolvarea problemelor trecute.Chiar nu-mi pasa acum.Sunt fericita,serios.Stiu ca sigur nu o sa se intample ceva prea bun saptamana ce va urma...dar pana atunci,i'll keep on smiling!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;tell them this love hasn't changed me, hasn't changed me at all&lt;br /&gt;last night I was writing about you&lt;br /&gt;I know my screaming and shouting won't keep you&lt;br /&gt;I know I know I know, you're still my love&lt;br /&gt;I wake up to the sound of you working&lt;br /&gt;you're one room right over, stressing and loving me&lt;br /&gt;I know I know I know, be still my love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr valign="MIDDLE"&gt;&lt;td style="background-image: url(http://beemp3.com/player/bkgnd-top2.gif);background-repeat: repeat;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size: 12px;vertical-align: middle;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-image: url(http://beemp3.com/player/corner-topright2.gif);background-repeat: repeat;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size: 12px;vertical-align: bottom;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr valign="MIDDLE"&gt;&lt;td width="16" style="width: 16px;background-image:url(http://beemp3.com/player/left-ltrow2.gif);"&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-image: url(http://beemp3.com/player/light2.gif);background-repeat: repeat;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size: 11px;vertical-align: bottom;"&gt;&lt;embed class="beeplayer" wmode="transparent" style="height:24px;width:290px;" src="http://beemp3.com/player/player.swf" quality="high" bgcolor="#ffffff" width="290" height="24" align="middle" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" 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//www.fakedoom.com/vapor/teagansara/IKnowIKnowIKnow.mp3%0A%0A"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;img style="padding:0;border:0;vertical-align:bottom" src="http://beemp3.com/player/logo_small.gif" /&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="16" style="width: 16px;background-image:url(http://beemp3.com/player/right-ltrow2.gif);"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="16"&gt;&lt;img style="padding:0;border:0;" src="http://beemp3.com/player/corner-bottomleft2.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-image: url(http://beemp3.com/player/bkgnd-bottom2.gif);background-repeat: repeat-x;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size: 11px;vertical-align: top;text-align: center;padding:0;border: 0;margin:0;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="16"&gt;&lt;img style="padding:0;border:0;" 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/1110655920772142130-4803292028912305009?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4803292028912305009/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4803292028912305009' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4803292028912305009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4803292028912305009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/keep-on-smiling.html' title='Keep on smiling!'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3846748940182141165</id><published>2010-03-18T22:45:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T23:09:42.005+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Momente in amalgam</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Asta e una din perioadele mele chill.Nu ma mai trezesc indispusa dimineata si nu mai am nevoie de autosugestie ca niste oameni cu probleme infantile asupra carora efectul placebo si autosugestia sunt 80% din viata lor.Nu mai deschid geamul cu nervi ca nu-mi place vremea si nu mai lenevesc inca 2 ore dupa ce m-am trezit,sub patura.Nu mai beau cafea fiindca nu mai am nevoie.Nu mai tip si nu mai zambesc fortat.Nu mai rup foi si nu mai desenez pe unde apuc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;E genul de perioada buna,in care lucrurile sunt ok,sau genul de perioada in care vad eu lucrurile dintr-o alta perspectiva.E total logic.Ma plictisesc repede,era timpul de o schimbare si in aria mea de vedere.Freud spunea ca de fapt oamenii nu sunt afectati de intamplare in sine,ci doar de cum o percep ei,si sunt de acord.Daca nu am realiza ceea ce ni se intampla nu am fi afectati,la fel ca omul cu sobolani [si ma refer strict la carte].Si cum ar fi sa nu realizam?Prosti n-am fi si nici nebuni nu cred ca ar fi termenul potrivit.Uite ca poate nu doar prostii sunt fericiti,ci si oamenii care nu realizeaza ce li se intampla.Dar e trist.Fiindca intreaga ta lume fericita in care mortii sunt inca vii si consecutivele repetente sunt trecute s-ar dizolva cand te-ai trezi dintr-un vis,direct in realitate.Poate ca realitatea nu e asa trista cum credem noi sau poate ca nu realizam atat cat trebuie ceea ce ni se intampla,fapt care intr-un fel e bun...Daca mintea noastra ar fi indeajuns de puternica incat sa obtina ceea ce vrea din orice situatie si sa controleze orice stare de spirit realitatea ar fi un fel de propria fantezie.Si de fapt...ce este realitatea?Singurul loc in care traim.Tot ei spun ca nebunii au lumea lor...dar nimeni nu a dovedit de fapt daca nebunii innebunesc sau revin doar la adevarata forma.Am citit undeva de mult,o intrebare: "Si de fapt,cine e mai nebun?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Daca as innebuni as vrea sa vad lumea alba.Nicio fata n-ar fi mai diferita indiferent de realitatea lor.Realitatea mea ar fi de-un pur sigur,ca ACE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/EmOoODoOoL/21690e9c1d6c7c.swf"&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;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=310&amp;amp;titluEmbed=E.M.I.L.%20-%20Vis%20in%20Soapta"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/EmOoODoOoL/21690e9c1d6c7c.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=310&amp;amp;titluEmbed=E.M.I.L.%20-%20Vis%20in%20Soapta"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;Asculta mai multe audio Muzica&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-3846748940182141165?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3846748940182141165/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3846748940182141165' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3846748940182141165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3846748940182141165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/momente-in-amalgam.html' title='Momente in amalgam'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-7191473189380587086</id><published>2010-03-16T19:54:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T20:01:40.734+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Azi da,dar nu si maine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nu citi prostii;nu te consuma ca o tigara proasta;nu exista - traieste!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nu fugi de ei - infrunta-i!nu o brusca;calmeaz-o;nu tipa;ignora-i;nu uita de hazardul tau;schimba-ti Infernul ca Aligheri;controleaza-ti emotiile;asculta muzica de peste tot,din orice;cauta-ti bocancii si fugi cu ei prin lume;rupe granitele care-ti stau in drum;detroneaza-i pe ei din lumea voastra;da-i un sms;fumeaza niste iarba;asculta niste reggae;suna cand ai nevoie;foloseste zambetul drept scuza pentru starea ta de spirit de azi...Lasa starile astea nevrotice,nu le mai imbina cu lacrimi intarziate!Simte placerea unei dimineti de sambata;lasa mainile lui sa se joace inocent cu tine;treci prin furtuna chiar daca n-ai bani sa-ti cumperi o umbrela;fa o schita a zilei de azi pe geamul aburit al camerei tale;citeste o poezie;zi-mi niste versuri;canta;ia un film bun;plangi;rupe-ti blugii si stoarce-ti gandurile.Descarca-ti azi orice durere pe A4,perete sau asfalt.Respira adanc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;"There'll be no sad tomorrow!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/1110655920772142130-7191473189380587086?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/7191473189380587086/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=7191473189380587086' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7191473189380587086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7191473189380587086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/nu-citi-prostiinu-te-consuma-ca-o.html' title='Azi da,dar nu si maine'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-8355156306481079404</id><published>2010-03-14T21:27:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T23:37:06.183+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce faci,puţule?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S51JMSrJ8BI/AAAAAAAAAOo/8__ErKV8Ui8/s1600-h/a_boy_and_his_friends__by_m0thyyku.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 281px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S51JMSrJ8BI/AAAAAAAAAOo/8__ErKV8Ui8/s320/a_boy_and_his_friends__by_m0thyyku.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448591599708270610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;De ce tocmai titlul asta?Din cauza unui pustan care-l folosea ca pe banda.Mi-a intrat in cap.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Am zis ca scriu de ieri da' am picat ca un bolovan si-am adormit imediat.Pierdusem notiunea timpului,de fapt,aiurea spus la trecut...inca o pierd.Credeam ca suntem in 8 azi.Nu stiu de ce.Iar am fost plecata,alea alea,sunteti obisnuiti..da.Cum orice vizita a mea se lasa cu iubiri,drame,fericiri,pierderi de autocar,bale pe scaunul pe care dorm 3 ore constant,hip hop ce bubuie in casti si sedeaza timpanul..asa a fost si asta.Am cunoscut si eu oameni noi,sau sa le zicem: 'personalitati' ?Desi n-as zice tocmai asa,ca unii erau la fel.Gen 2 in 1,cam ca si cafelele proaste.Cred ca m-am obosit de data asta mai rau ca oricand,si m-am si enervat...hm,oarecum.Ceva nu merge bine,nu stiu ce.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O perioada oarecum tensionata,desi nu pentru mine.Cand toti sunt stresati e ok,sunt eu zen.E genul de faza care mi se intampla mie cand nu pot sa fac ceva si toti pot.Dar parca-mi stau in cap,ca deh..asa suntem noi,oamenii.Pe sistemul: 'Daca nu mi-e mie bine,da-l dracu pe ala,sa nu ii fie nici lui."Stiti ca e asa.De fapt de ce nu putem sa uitam si noi de rahaturile astea permanent?Probleme sunt aiurea,uiti de ele cand ai o anumita ocupatie care cere concentrare si in interiorul tau ele se incheaga cu fiecare secunda care fuge.In timp,incep sa doara.Si cand te gandesti sa umbli la ele explodezi si distrugi atatea personaje nevinovate si atatea situatii simple.Ca un taifun in miezul desertului.Ei spun ca toate greselile duc spre formarea noastra si eu sunt de acord,dar tot ei spun ca o a doua sansa e buna.Eu spun ca e un mare risc pe care trebuie sa ti-l asumi.Cand se opreste omul din formare?Cat ne mai putem dezvolta?Cate idei pot inflori in noi?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ce fiinta complexa este omul.Am chef de un film in seara asta,tu ce-ai sa faci puţule?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/hrista19aida/78bafca5f16662.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=467&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Coldplay%20-%20Speed%20of%20Sound%20%28Radio%20Edit%29"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/hrista19aida/78bafca5f16662.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=467&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Coldplay%20-%20Speed%20of%20Sound%20%28Radio%20Edit%29"&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;/em&gt;&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-8355156306481079404?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/8355156306481079404/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=8355156306481079404' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8355156306481079404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8355156306481079404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/ce-faciputule.html' title='Ce faci,puţule?'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S51JMSrJ8BI/AAAAAAAAAOo/8__ErKV8Ui8/s72-c/a_boy_and_his_friends__by_m0thyyku.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6097172582863141969</id><published>2010-03-11T19:35:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T19:14:36.372+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aveam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='film'/><title type='text'>Viata bate filmul.</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il bate pana-i sare sangele ca la tasnitoare.Il bate pentru din viata se nasc si filmele,un sambure de adevar si o picatura de inspiratie,tot din viata se extrag,din realitate.Pe langa asta,in ce film ati mai vazut voi un orasel cu doar 2 masini,care paradoxal,se ciocnesc in intersectie?Si de fapt..la ce ma refer cand spun ca viata bate filmul?La ironiile care se tot intampla,la situatiile penibile si la vesnica intrebare: cum de tocmai mie?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nu stau sa mai insirui exemple,fiindca sunt destule,si de fapt,sunt bune argumente la ceea ce sustin eu.E prostie,si din prostie de cele mai multe ori se nasc o groaza de situatii hazardate.Viata bate filmul brutal si lasa cicatrici,si probabil asta e singura violenta cu care sunt de acord.Genul de violenta iluzorie,pe care o putem doar imagina.M-a intrebat un prieten o chestie tare aberanta...cica: "Da' il bate si atunci cand il inspira?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Logic!In fond,filmul ne face sa traim empatic,asa cum o fac si cartile.In cadrul unui film doar retina traieste si sentimentele se misca uneori.Realitatea ne face sa simtim!E genul ala de feeling care iti place sau il urasti,dar care indiferent de situatie te socheaza.E ca un fel de tatuaj.Probabil intamplarile sunt mai permanente ca tatuajele..Ele nu ies la tratamente.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aveam un prieten tare apropiat care obisnuia sa zica:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Orice film are realitatea lui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; "..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Aveam...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/freyss/3da993e62fe8a1.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=344&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Papa%20Roach%20-%20Scars"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/freyss/3da993e62fe8a1.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=344&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Papa%20Roach%20-%20Scars"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-6097172582863141969?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6097172582863141969/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6097172582863141969' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6097172582863141969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6097172582863141969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/viata-bate-filmul.html' title='Viata bate filmul.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4951957486251879886</id><published>2010-03-09T21:50:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T22:45:56.430+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cum ar fi o lume plina de prosti?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Sa-ti faci planuri de viitor in mod clar e una dintre cele mai aberante si prostesti chestii.Sau de fapt,nu realizarea planurilor in sine e problema ci dezamagirea pe care o primesti cand vezi ca nu iti ies asa cum ai vrut.Face parte din noi sa ne purtam asa,dar in fine...e le fel de prostesc precum oamenii care se gandesc doar la ei.Precum noi toti.E ca legile lui Murphy...daca ceva prost s-ar putea intampla,atunci sigur o sa se intample.As merge in voia sortii uneori,dar mi-e imposibil sa nu am macar un punct spre care sa vreau sa ajung.As minti daca as spune ca in general nu ma stresez cu chestiile de gen.Sunt degajata,da,fiindca am impresia ca toate se rezolva,dar cand apuc sa constientizez de fapt situatia imi ia ceva vreme sa ies din panica aia nebuna.E de ceva vreme un intreg haos prin viata mea si nu-mi place.Nu sunt genul de persoana perfectionista dar dezastrul e enervant.Ca un fel de febra musculara.Apare cand te simti mai bine si culmea,se rezolva tot prin miscare..Genul de situatie care apasa pe nervii tai si te face sa clachezi in somn de atata stres si draci.Pana la urma,orice parte rea are si o parte buna sau daca n-are...fa-o sa aibe.Am intalnit la viata mea si oameni prosti,si chiar am constatat ca sunt cei mai fericiti.Ei sunt cei care nu stiu ce au de gand sa faca cu viata lor si surprinzator,ajung sa aibe servici si sa nu aibe niciun stres.Mi se par absurzi oamenii care gandesc orice nimic si se streseaza pentru orice situatie...dar sunt fericita ca exista.E firesc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cum ar fi o lume plina de prosti?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xlFFjOBW0vQ&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&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/xlFFjOBW0vQ&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pe trilulilu nu era.&lt;/em&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/1110655920772142130-4951957486251879886?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4951957486251879886/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4951957486251879886' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4951957486251879886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4951957486251879886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/cum-ar-fi-o-lume-plina-de-prosti.html' title='Cum ar fi o lume plina de prosti?'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-7880579144778539094</id><published>2010-03-07T13:40:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T13:59:33.499+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Bani.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Totul pentru bani.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Chiar totul pentru bani.Mi-e rusine mie sa ma gandesc la ce fac altii ca sa primeasca niste hartii cu care din partea mea s-ar putea sterge undeva.Cele mai scarboase si mai penibile chestii le fac oamenii,de asta e omul mai scarbos ca animalul...fiindca animalul cel putin nu isi baga borcane in fund si nu se spala cu propriul rahat pe dinti.Exprimare scarboasa,dar DA,asta fac oamenii pentru bani.M-a socat in principiu dar oarecum o parte din mine nu era deloc mirata sa auda lucrurile astea.Mai penibili decat oamenii care accepta provocarile astea mi se par oamenii care le dau.Ce minte bolnava s-ar putea gandi sa dea bani unui om care-si baga un borcan in fund?E ciudata lumea in care traim si n-am nici macar 20% idee de asta...vad lucrurile vag acum.Pe langa toate astea sunt vesnicele femei,sau chiar si barbati care se inchiriaza pe sine.Right.O metoda simpla de a face bani.Dar da-o dracului de treaba fratie,demnitatea ta,unde e?Stiu ca e pomenita prin basme pe langa onoare si zmei,dar asta nu inseamna ca trebuie sa o lasam inchisa in carti.Nu mai are nimeni principii?Chiar va place sa mancati rahat,la propriu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;O singura intrebare am,cati oameni ar refuza totusi provocari de gen,pentru o suma extraordinar de mare de bani?Sincer,cati?&lt;/span&gt;&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/1110655920772142130-7880579144778539094?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/7880579144778539094/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=7880579144778539094' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7880579144778539094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7880579144778539094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/bani.html' title='Bani.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-8687184825859858344</id><published>2010-03-06T15:14:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T15:38:53.243+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fragmente.Old...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[...]Genul de dimineti in care pleoapele iti apasa retina sunt cele in care stii ca nu vrei sa faci nimic,si totusi ziua va fi plina.Soare straluceste aiurea dimineata si cand te dai jos din pat se ascunde ca un tampit.Te uiti pierduta pe geam si lasi aerul rece sa iti inunde narile..Cafeaua a cazut pe aragaz si..tocmai il spalasei.Iti torni intr-o cana mare cam jumate de ibric si pui mult zahar.Te asezi brusc pe scaunul din bucatarie si-ti strangi genunchii la gura...printre ei,sorbi cate o gura de cafea.Mai sunt cateva minute pana sa te imbraci ca sa pleci - sa-ti incepi oficial ziua.Poate uneori ai vrea sa fumezi desi stii ca nu e bine,si nici nu-ti place gustul...e un paradox,dar in dimineata asta chiar ai pofta de o tigare.Te speli pe dinti in graba si te imbraci in rochia rosie in care ii placea lui sa te vada.Iti pui tenesii in picioare si o esarfa eleganta la gat...Putin parfum,ruj rosu si esti gata.Gata dar in intarziere.Alergi pe strada fiindca nu vrei sa intarzii si azi,azi nu trebuie sa mai ratezi!Te strecori printre masini si oameni si intr-un final ajungi,la timp.Te asezi pe un scaun prafuit din gara si astepti un tren,oricare...Il astepti pe el,in fond..cand a plecat,ti-a promis ca o sa se intoarca,dar niciodata nu ti-a spus cand.Noroc ca azi ai ajuns la timp!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;                       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;[...]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Azi,mai ciudat ca oricand ma simt bine,desi s-au intamplat multe dupa ce ai plecat tu,nu tocmai fericite.M-ai lasat singura asta dupa toate dialogurile noastre,din noptile de vara in care imi tot spuneai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Eu pe tine singura...niciodata nu o sa te las".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Pe dracu.Ai facut-o si stiam amandoi chiar de atunci ca se va intampla,dar nu-i nimic.Accept usor lucrurile astea,chiar daca te-am iubit orbeste,cum s-ar spune si la inceput,egoist.N-as fi vrut sa se termine asa,dar in basmele noastre,sfarsitul este ori tragic,ori niciodata pomenit.Credeam ca o sa fie greu sa fiu iar singura,desi...si atunci cand eram cu tine,tot singura eram.Preferam totusi sa stiu ca esti al meu.Dar nu sunt chiar asa de ghinionista si ma bucur ca tu ai plecat,fiindca acum l-am cunoscut pe EL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/b0gz0r/45cb6ca88d46ee.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=198&amp;amp;titluEmbed=E.M.I.L.%20-%20Noi%20doi%20impreuna%20separat"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;                                                               &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;                             &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tu esti doar un simplu &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;tu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;,el e doar un simplu &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;EL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; si il iubesc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-8687184825859858344?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/8687184825859858344/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=8687184825859858344' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8687184825859858344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8687184825859858344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/fragmenteold.html' title='Fragmente.Old...'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-5140981780080709092</id><published>2010-03-04T21:43:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T22:24:04.462+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Aceeasi carte,doua lumi..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S5AWc7qXzRI/AAAAAAAAAOY/ykRW7CZgxEw/s1600-h/i_want_to_hold_your_hand_by_morethanprincess.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S5AWc7qXzRI/AAAAAAAAAOY/ykRW7CZgxEw/s320/i_want_to_hold_your_hand_by_morethanprincess.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444876635798490386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Ea,a creat lumea lor din versuri furate de pe vinil,caci numai muzica veche asculta;din scenele preferate ale filmelor pe care le-a vizionat de cand a inceput pasiunea ei pentru filme si din replici care i-au ramas blocate in minte.Lumea lor era asterunta pe paginile unei carti.Era un fel de bildungsroman cu proza furata din cartile ei preferate.Tinea si un album foto cu poze create de ea,de mintea ei.In esenta,si mintea ei fura idei,daca nu imagini.Le fura de la retina.Erau ei doi,mereu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;El..era intr-o oarecare masura pasionat de cartile cu umor negru si mare fan al lui Hassel.Ea..prefera filozofia si-l citea pe Ricoeur in dementa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;In diminetile cu soare amandoi ieseau pe balcon si isi savurau cafelele,dulci.El fuma,Ea manca ciocolata.Faceau dus de obicei cam la aceleasi ore si citeau seara mereu,inainte sa adoarma.In lumea pe care Ea o facuse,El obisnuia sa o sarute apasat,ca si cum...ca si cum ar fi vrut sa ii sfarame buzele,sau sa lase amprentele buzelor lui,pe buzele ei.Lumea Ei permite orice..de la cunostinta celei mai mici fantezii pana la cea mai ascunsa zona erogena.Ciudatii astia doi vorbesc mult,sau cel putin...asa ar vrea Ea.Obsesia Ei pentru El creste cu fiecare secunda care se scurge.El ii clocoteste in creier,in sange,in vene,in inima,in corp,dar ii consuma atat de multa energie incat nici cafeaua de dimineata nu o mai invioreaza...si ma doare sufletul ca o stiu asa.E atat de indragostita de ideea ca El ar putea fi indragostit de ea incat mintea ei o ia razna.El i-a subjugat ei intreaga libertate dar i-a creat intregul Univers.Uneori devine constienta de absurditatea fiintei sale,sau mai degraba de dualitatea ei;devine constienta de lumea iluzorie in care El exista si o iubeste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;[...]dar exista si un sambure de adevar pe care Ea l-a sadit si a creat lumea asta.El exista,dar se zbate pentru a iubi o alta Ea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Muzica veche si patul nefacut o transpun din nou in realitate.De doua zile sta intinsa in pat si se contopeste cu versuri noi;mananca ciocolata si tipareste povestea lor cu patima cu care a si trait-o.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;O sa fie prima oara cand Ea si El vor fi impreuna cu adevarat,in aceeasi carte care apartine aceleiasi lumi. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/jesuisbelle/956bf51d4c7b07.swf"&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;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=221&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Carpenters%20-%20%20%20Close%20To%20You"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/jesuisbelle/956bf51d4c7b07.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=221&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Carpenters%20-%20%20%20Close%20To%20You"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;Asculta mai multe audio Muzica&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/1110655920772142130-5140981780080709092?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/5140981780080709092/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=5140981780080709092' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5140981780080709092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5140981780080709092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/aceeasi-cartedoua-lumi.html' title='Aceeasi carte,doua lumi..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S5AWc7qXzRI/AAAAAAAAAOY/ykRW7CZgxEw/s72-c/i_want_to_hold_your_hand_by_morethanprincess.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4502896107687143563</id><published>2010-03-03T20:59:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T21:33:07.204+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Floating Sadness</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Nu cred ca azi o sa scriu prea multe,desi aveam un plan de idei destul de ok dezvoltat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Nig12F1vRL4&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6"&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/Nig12F1vRL4&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Toti avem zile mai proaste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;[...]Dau vina pe raceala.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-4502896107687143563?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4502896107687143563/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4502896107687143563' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4502896107687143563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4502896107687143563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/floating-sadness.html' title='Floating Sadness'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4067101873681094024</id><published>2010-03-02T20:15:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T21:04:42.121+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Literatura e a nebunilor!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In fond e cea mai importanta.Ne hraneste enorm vietile,dar am uitat asta,si ne hranim cu un cyborg acum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Citez: "Ce s-a facut pentru omul mediocru?I s-au dat cinematografe,strazi,scene?In niciun caz."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I s-a dat literatura?Da.Si a dezvoltat-o.Si-a expus propria parere despre termeni deja fixati sau nu,in special despre cei instabili,ce nu au o definitie anume,pentru ca asa nicio parere nu ar fi gresita.Revenind la omul mediocru...da,lui i s-a lasat literatura.Cinematograful este pentru oamenii perfecti ce au gesturi de imbratisare perfecte si buze pentru un sarut perfect;lacrimi pentru o scena trista perfecta si cuvinte cursive fara opriri in vorbire,balbaieli sau greseli gramaticale.Scena - pentru actorii ce se transpun in orice personaj iar strada pentru cinematograf si teatru,ca s-o faca mai interesanta.Literatura e a noastra,a nebunilor.Noi o citim,noi o cream.Noi o gandim mai mult sau mai putin profund si o extindem pe orice tema despre care se poate scrie/vorbi.Literatura e poate uneori un viciu,desi,viciu e considerat un pacat,deci...exclus.Includem in literatura si filozofia,care din nou apartine nebunilor fiindca oricat de normali ar fi fost ei inainte ea i-a transformat in nebuni,si revin la un citat frumos si vechi: "Daca ai un dram de nebunie si un munte de masura,vei intalni candva filozofia."Atatea subdiviziuni si toate duc spre acelasi lucru.Atatea informatii si atatea opinii...atat de mult curaj.Atat de multi scriitori dezaxati fara frica de respingeri si obiectii cu atat de mult tupeu in a-si exprima parerile.O intreaga lume la picioarele noastre cu atatea culturi si genialitati.Nu e nevoie de matematica sa fi genial,dar e nevoie de literatura.Citind,realizezi multe lucruri,creezi multe opere.Iti formezi propria ta filozofie nebuna si geniala...abstracta.Primesti intrebari ce se nasc din raspunsurile pe care tu le-ai dat si incepi sa cunosti lumea din ce in ce mai mult.Iti pare atat de cunoscut un scriitor pe care l-ai citit multi ani la rand si l-ai inteles intr-un final.Ii cunosti parerile,opiniile,durerile,apogeul si declinul.Literatura e a nebunului care cunoaste de la Titu Maiorescu la Charles Baudelaire;de la Ion Creanga la Hermann Hesse sau de la Mircea Eliade la Sigmund Freud.Nu vorbesc aici de adevaratul nebun a carei lume e o carte cu pagini culese de la mai multi scriitori...vorbesc de omul normal a carei lume e lumea de afara si din casa,dar care cunoaste si vrea sa cunoasca nu numai cu privirea sau urechile din exterior,ci cu privirea si urechile din interiorul cartilor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In concluzie,cititi,nu orice,desi orice va va fi util candva,dar...cititi ce va place si ce intelegeti.O sa aveti si voi partea voastra de lume..nebuna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oameni nebuni,intr-o lume nebuna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/raprul3zz/a88074ac14e0f3.swf"&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;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=227&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Flipsyde%20-%20Someday"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/raprul3zz/a88074ac14e0f3.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=227&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Flipsyde%20-%20Someday"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;Asculta mai multe audio Muzica&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/1110655920772142130-4067101873681094024?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4067101873681094024/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4067101873681094024' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4067101873681094024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4067101873681094024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/03/literatura-e-nebunilor.html' title='Literatura e a nebunilor!'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-8153627574380145357</id><published>2010-02-28T20:08:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T20:14:45.573+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Help Haiti!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S4qybhJtG0I/AAAAAAAAAOI/rRB0XCezj2E/s1600-h/h48-21700235.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S4qybhJtG0I/AAAAAAAAAOI/rRB0XCezj2E/s320/h48-21700235.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443359285455952706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Ieri locuinte, azi mormane de moloz."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;De aici a inceput de fapt ideea mea pentru postarea asta.Poate o sa vi se para aiurea,dar nu o sa scriu si eu lucruri lacrimogene ca peste tot,nu spun decat: Help Haiti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Norocu' nostru frate ca nu ne-a zguduit si pe noi in halul asta pamantu' ca nu stiu daca mai eram acum.Ma adresez tie si-ti spun ca nu mori daca dai 10 lei la intrarea unui concert caritabil pentru Haiti,sau asa mai departe..Tu nu mori,cum au facut-o ei.Macar pe cei ce au ramas in viata sa-i ajutam.Pana mea,Dumnezeu e mare,dar nu inseamna ca le rezolva el pe toate...vorba aia,iti da,nu iti baga si in buzunar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Nu m-am lungit pe subiectul asta ca stiti si voi ce s-a intamplat si cu ce se mananca,atat spun: Daca ai cum sa ajuti,nu ezita,ajuta!&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/1110655920772142130-8153627574380145357?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/8153627574380145357/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=8153627574380145357' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8153627574380145357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8153627574380145357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/02/help-haiti.html' title='Help Haiti!'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S4qybhJtG0I/AAAAAAAAAOI/rRB0XCezj2E/s72-c/h48-21700235.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3074822308785109244</id><published>2010-02-27T18:59:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T19:03:22.907+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Portret de familie.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ff4KJvsEUdE&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&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/Ff4KJvsEUdE&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JF2bSL5CFLo&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x402061&amp;amp;color2=0x9461ca"&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/JF2bSL5CFLo&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x402061&amp;amp;color2=0x9461ca" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hw9AEnbOEzE&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01"&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/hw9AEnbOEzE&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A fi diferit in societatea aceasta este ceva interzis?Considerat o problema?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Diferenta e o dexteritate? :)&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/1110655920772142130-3074822308785109244?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3074822308785109244/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3074822308785109244' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3074822308785109244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3074822308785109244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/02/portret-de-familie.html' title='Portret de familie.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3732584983889982798</id><published>2010-02-23T21:34:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T21:47:43.366+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Tonight the sky above..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Tonight the sky above&lt;br /&gt;Reminds me of you, love&lt;br /&gt;Walking through wintertime&lt;br /&gt;Where the stars all shine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt; Sunt mai romantica azi,fata de alte zile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Astept vara.Astept sa ma plimb pe plaja cu tine de mana si sa ne uitam la stele noaptea ascultand miscarile valurilor;Sa ne plimbam aiurea prin lume doar noi...doi.Sa fie cald afara si sa mancam inghetata..inghetata cu care ne vom murdari ca sa avem motiv de bataie cu apa mai tarziu;Sa cantam la chitara si sa zambim in fiecare secunda ca si cum ala ar fi ultimul nostru zambet...Sa ne iubim asa aiurea si prosteste,copilaros dar...frumos.Sa nu conteze pentru noi EI fiindca noi ne iubim asa cum stim mai bine si EI pot spune orice.Sa mergem cu trenu'...dar nu ala rapid,caci ala nu e amuzant.Sa ne sarutam,cum spunea Nichita...ca si cum &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;[...]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;ca si cum nu ne-ar vedea nimeni,ca si cum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;soarele ar urma să rasara&lt;br /&gt;luminos&lt;br /&gt;abia&lt;br /&gt;dupa ce gurile rupte de sarut si-nsingerate&lt;br /&gt;n-ar mai fi în stare să se sarute&lt;br /&gt;decât cu dintii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Sa ne certam din nimicuri si sa stam imbufnati 5 minute fiindca mai mult nu am putea;Sa imi cumperi apa fiindca vara beau multa apa si apoi sa razi de mine ca ma duc prea des la buda.Sa traim visul asta la infinit,tu stii...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Iarna,tu esti marea mea!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/ghitabacio/6cd7fdcfa7f93f.swf"&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;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=231&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Vama%20Veche%20-%20zmeul"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/ghitabacio/6cd7fdcfa7f93f.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" flashvars="durataAudio=231&amp;amp;titluEmbed=Vama%20Veche%20-%20zmeul"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;Asculta mai multe audio Muzica&lt;/a&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/1110655920772142130-3732584983889982798?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3732584983889982798/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3732584983889982798' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3732584983889982798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3732584983889982798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/02/tonight-sky-above.html' title='Tonight the sky above..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-1378146469464432733</id><published>2010-02-21T22:59:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T23:05:09.569+02:00</updated><title type='text'>[...]printre jazz si fumuri.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S4Gf-lhncgI/AAAAAAAAAOA/FYV0p45iWB4/s1600-h/Polish_sea__by_lans_bejbe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S4Gf-lhncgI/AAAAAAAAAOA/FYV0p45iWB4/s320/Polish_sea__by_lans_bejbe.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440805722414084610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Astepti dupa o saptmana haotica un weekend nebun.Astepti sa te trezesti la ce ora vrei fara sa-ti mai sune alarma in creieri si sa mananci la orice ora din zi gandinu-te ca poti si ai timp.Astepti sa te uiti la tv toata ziua ca nebuna sau sa iesi in oras colindand magazinele.Sa bei cafeaua dimineata linistita si sa te pierzi prin fumul pe care-l lasi sa se ridice din tigara pe care o proptesti in scrumiera,ca de fumat nu prea fumezi.Sa barfesti cu prietenele la telefon si sa te mai plangi putin.Sa asculti muzica buna fara nicio graba si sa citesti carti vechi si reviste noi.Sa faci poze aiurite sau sa privesti chill pe geam oamenii grabiti sau linistiti...suparati sau fericiti;ingrijorati sau prosti.Sa stai pe net uitandu-te la ultimele trenduri in moda intrebandu-te de ce in ultima vreme hainele tale au fost lasate in voia hazardului.Si te trezesti ca vine in sfarsit dimineata de sambata pe care ai asteptat-o atat.Dupa cateva piese de jazz si cateva fumuri dintr-o tigara usoara te imbraci cu hainele abia luate de pe sarma si-ti prinzi parul dezastruos lasand cateva suvite libere.Te trezesti singura pe banca,in parc cu o carte ratacita in geanta.Ai atatea oportunitati pentru acest weekend si totusi...in dimineata asta de samabata,tu vrei doar niste iubire..&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/1110655920772142130-1378146469464432733?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/1378146469464432733/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=1378146469464432733' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1378146469464432733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1378146469464432733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/02/printre-jazz-si-fumuri.html' title='[...]printre jazz si fumuri.'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S4Gf-lhncgI/AAAAAAAAAOA/FYV0p45iWB4/s72-c/Polish_sea__by_lans_bejbe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-7122453664942402740</id><published>2010-02-16T22:06:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T22:23:53.670+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Creion</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Cata viata pe lumea asta moarta in interior.Mortii astia cu trupuri vii imi fac mie viata.E amuzant sa ii privesc si sa ma pierd si eu printre ei si printre gandurile lor.Mi-e dor sa vad iar veselie pe fetele lor asa cum mi-e dor sa simt iar caldura.E singura oara in viata mea cand imi doresc asa tare vara...si e prima oara cand imi e atat de dor de mare.O personific,fiindca are personalitate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Ma trezesc destul de binedispusa de la o vreme,desi sunt anumite intrebari care ma macina aiurea si nu ma ajuta deloc sa adorm,noaptea.Dar eu sunt fericita.M-as camufla daca as putea.As vrea sa fiu soapta unui indragostit neexperimentat;mana care o cauta pe cealalta in intuneric;ochii care se deschid in miez de noapte si te desprind de cosmar sau simpla entitate prezenta in prezentul care este doar o proiectie la urma urmei -proiectie a trecutului in viitor- si sa va privesc cu un creion in mana..sa va prind la colt si sa va pictez un zambet.As picta si cerul si soarele si asfaltul si florile daca as avea un creion.As picta si sentimentele.Pe alea albe le-as colora si pe alea negre le-as contura cu zeci de nuante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rTFOm6v3wMI&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;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/rTFOm6v3wMI&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&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;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-7122453664942402740?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/7122453664942402740/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=7122453664942402740' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7122453664942402740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7122453664942402740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/02/creion.html' title='Creion'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2076355163116684638</id><published>2010-02-11T13:13:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T13:38:54.108+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Had a bad day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S3PsONEWC-I/AAAAAAAAAN4/beqD4yI-kt8/s1600-h/b28078094db66a901996e0b40f5bb304.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S3PsONEWC-I/AAAAAAAAAN4/beqD4yI-kt8/s320/b28078094db66a901996e0b40f5bb304.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436948903936527330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Cand te trezesti cu o durere de stomac si cu o greata ca dupa betie,e clar ca-n ziua aia nimic nu va merge bine.Cam asa cu mine dimineata...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;M-am tirat aiurea pt o ora la scoala mergand ca ultima h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;andicapata pe acelasi drum pavat cu ciorofleasca aia de zapada combinata cu apa.Am alunecat in ultimul hal si m-am miscat de parca eram pe slow motion.Mergeam pe drum ca pe un teren minat: ai grija sa nu cazi,ocoleste baltile,ocoleste gheata,fereste-te de masinile care gonesc prin balti si stropesc aiurea,tine de umbrela,ai grija sa nu te ploua,misca-te dracu mai repede ca intarzii si la scoala.Si am ajuns frate.Am ajuns indoita ca dreapta nu puteam sta din cauza crampelor (ca la insarcinate,pnm).Am zabovit o amarata de ora intr-o amarata de clasa si a-nceput sa-mi fie frig.E ok,afara transpiram la -3 grade,si in clasa imi era frig.Am plecat.Am plecat fiindca si o stafie era mai plina de viata decat mine.Am evitat terenul ala minat si am luat taxiul.Nici taximetristului nu-i mergea prea bine.Cand am intrat,vorbea la telefon cu Lucian de la asigurari ca ii sparsesera unii geamul la masina,dar nu la taxiu,la masina lui.Cica avea un logan...mare paguba.Vorbea cu mine de parca ma stia de o viata dar eu nu intelegeam ce spunea.Stateam chircita cu mainile pe stomac pe bancheta din spate si auzeam vag cum bolborosea despre cat de prost circula imbecilii din ziua de azi.I-am dat banii si am plecat.Nici macar nu stiam cat trebuia ca nu pusese ceasul,dar l-am auzit cand a zis sa dau cat dau de obicei.Si m-am trezit in sfarsit acasa.Ce ciudat.Nu mai avusesem de mult una din zilele alea in care vrei sa te trezesti,desi esti treaz de cateva ore...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Ploua.E de la vreme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/1110655920772142130-2076355163116684638?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2076355163116684638/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2076355163116684638' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2076355163116684638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2076355163116684638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/02/had-bad-day.html' title='Had a bad day...'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S3PsONEWC-I/AAAAAAAAAN4/beqD4yI-kt8/s72-c/b28078094db66a901996e0b40f5bb304.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6081263818866664426</id><published>2010-02-05T13:30:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T13:58:26.643+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Words kill people</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Un cuvant raneste cat un intreg univers uneori.Iti intra in inima si zgarie,arunca,rupe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Se-nchide in tine si sta acolo ceva vreme.Desi incuiat in inima,el e pus pe repeat in cap.Se aude din ce in ce mai des si din ce in ce mai tare ca si cum ai fi blocat intr-un studio cu un cantaret afon fiindca pana si timpanele iti sunt ranite.Cu toate gandurile pierdute in van,acelasi simplu cuvant te innebuneste si te face sa complici tot.Cat de mult pot conta vorbele unora chiar si pentru oamenii care pretind ca nu sunt interesati de parerile din jur?Stai noaptea in pat si-ti spui ca vrei sa dormi si ca vrei sa-ti finalizezi colectia de nopti albe dar acelasi cuvant iti rasuceste corpul si face parca voodoo pe tine fiindca incep sa te doara toate,inclusiv creierul care e epuizat de atatea scenarii.Si te trezesti aproape mort dimineata tarandu-te cu o ultima suflare pana la cana plina de cafea care zace pe masa din dimineata anterioara.Cu ochii rosii si respiratia inceata te uiti pierdut la lumea de afara de care te desparte un geam fragil mancat de frig.Scrijelesti cu degetul niste forme haotice pe el si cazi pe scaun unde apuci sa dormi cateva minute pana cand iti suna telefonul.Te trezesti si ramai holbat la peretii nevaruiti si cu acelasi rahat de cuvant in cap de care nu poti sa mai scapi.Singura minune care te-ar mai putea salva acum ar fi sa te trezesti din cosmarul asta camuflat in realitate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Si acest simplu cuvant ti-a mancat o buna parte din viata facandu-te mereu sa-ti zici: "Bag pl. ,poate maine-o fi mai bine!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3srIU2AkXWk&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;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3srIU2AkXWk&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&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/3srIU2AkXWk&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/object&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/1110655920772142130-6081263818866664426?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6081263818866664426/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6081263818866664426' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6081263818866664426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6081263818866664426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/02/words-kill-people.html' title='Words kill people'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-9134361851204968394</id><published>2010-02-02T20:52:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T21:06:03.780+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in black [in Valcea]</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S2h3la7_V4I/AAAAAAAAANw/2h5l8X1k-sk/s1600-h/New_York_by_fiona438.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 231px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S2h3la7_V4I/AAAAAAAAANw/2h5l8X1k-sk/s320/New_York_by_fiona438.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433724435192305538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Am venit din Bucuresti cu intamplari minunate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Pe langa faptul ca era sa ma intorc inapoi la Valcea,ca adormisem in autocar,era sa-mi iau si o tranta pe burta ca pinguinii in mijlocul trecerii de pietoni.M-am invartit timp de vreo 5-10 minute in aceeasi zona cautand statia de metrou care era fix in fata mea (stau bine cu orientarea,stiu).Am mers o juma' de ora cu metroul si in final am ajuns la destinatie.Am inghetat ca un cacat si am fost extraordinar de fericita ca statiile de metrou exista si slava Domnului,sunt multe si calde (ca painea)!In fine...am descoperit ca au un miros specific de,mucegai as zice si-ti dau o groaza de vise.Bucurestiul mi se pare in momentul de fata lumea care o sa-mi permita sa fac tot ceea ce nu fac aici.Am avut ocazia sa analizez destul de bine anumite lucruri si daca tot vorbeam de metrou,statii alea alea...acolo e o intreaga viata.Oameni in goana,boschetari care vomita in cosuri de gunoi,copii rataciti,manele din stanga,dubstep din dreapta,ura,invidie,rautate,iubire,fericire,compasiune.Doi indragostiti inghesuiti pe un scaun,inconjurati de scaune goale si o mama ce-si plesneste brutal boracu'.Mimici monotone si vorba putina,cu masura.Am fost blocata in Izvor cam o ora.O ora doar acolo,ca de restu' nu mai zic.Am ratacit frumos,mi-a placut!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Spre finalul zilei un strain m-a tras de mana sa-mi arate drumul...dar eu aveam deja coordonatele corecte! :)&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/1110655920772142130-9134361851204968394?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/9134361851204968394/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=9134361851204968394' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/9134361851204968394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/9134361851204968394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/02/back-in-black-in-valcea.html' title='Back in black [in Valcea]'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S2h3la7_V4I/AAAAAAAAANw/2h5l8X1k-sk/s72-c/New_York_by_fiona438.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2650296458183923907</id><published>2010-01-31T19:45:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T19:48:37.148+02:00</updated><title type='text'>When you're too in love to let it go.2</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Bianca: Ce faci Alin?Ia zi-mi,cand te-ai indragostit tu prima oara?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alin.: Deocamdata fac bine , prima mea dragoste a fost pe undeva pe la 10 -11 ani si pot sa zice ca nu a fost chiar dragoste ci o atractie profunda .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Bianca:Cum s-a intamplat?Cine era EA?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alin.: Pai prima intalnire a noastra a fost la un curs de dans,ea fiind partenera mea . La inceput nu constientizam dar apoi dupa ce am terminat cursurile a inceput sa imi placa , si incet incet a devenit ceva serios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Bianca: Constientizai atunci de fapt,ce este dragostea sau in fine,acea atractie profunda,cum o numesti tu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alin.: Atunci nu chiar , nici mai tarziu , defapt nici nu stiam ce era aia dragoste , doar ce vazusem prin filme sau la televizor. Sincer nu imi puneam prea multe intrebari , eu stiam doar ca imi place de ea .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Bianca: Ce-ai simtit cand ai luat-o prima oara de mana?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alin.: Defapt nu am luat-o de mana niciodata , sau poate doar cand dansam , mi-as fi dorit foarte multe poate pentru ca asa imi imaginam eu o relatie , sa te tii de mana , sa te saruti , sa te plimbi etc. Aveam tot felu de vise atunci dar abia daca vorbeam cu ea , eu fiind foarte timid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Bianca: Sa-nteleg deci ca a fost atasare doar din partea ta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alin.: Cred ca da , la un moment dat a aflat ca imi place de ea si de atunci am auzit tot felul de zvonuri ca ei i-ar fi placut de mine. Eu bine inteles ca imi faceam tot felul de scenarii , dar pana la urma i-am luat id , mi-am facut curaj si am intrebat-o : "Iti place de mine?" , ea: nu  . In momentul ala am fost distrus si toate visele mele se naruisera .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Bianca: Desi copil,aveai deja o experienta tragica cu dragostea.Ce s-a intamplat apoi?V-ati mai vazut?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alin.: Din momentu ala am fost total schimbat , dar mie imi tot placea de ea . Am mai vorbit dupa cu ea pe mess dar s-a rupt totul la un moment dat. Dupa un timp , nu mai stiu exact cat , ea s-a dus la alte cursuri , si stiu ca erau sambata , iar eu mergeam mereu cand terminau sa o vad . Mereu eram aranjat " la patru ace" ca doar na , poate o sa ma observe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Bianca: Zi-mi o poveste cu voi doi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alin.: Pai o povestea e una zic eu simpla dar care pentru mine a insemnat atat de mult. Era intr-o sambata din cele prezentate mai sus , si eram cu un amic care o cunostea . Aveam bine inteles sperantele si emotiie obisnuite cu mine , dar dupa ce au terminat s-a asezat pe o banca . Tipu’ respectiv cunoscand-o a zis sa mergem la banca la ea. La inceput nu am acceptat pentru ca fusesem odata dezamagit , dar mi-am facut din nou curaj si am facut-o si pe asta. Am ajuns la banca , eu deja eram transpirat , emotionat mai era putin si lesinam , si m-am asezat langa ea . Dupa cateva secunde m-a salutat , si m-a intrebat ce fac , i-am raspuns si dupa a urmat tacere. A urmat tacere pentru ca era prima oara cand vorbeam cu fata de care imi placea si de frica sa nu zic ceva gresit am tacut . Pentru mine clipele alea au fost WOW!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Bianca: Ai mai simtit aceleasi emotii apoi cu alte fete?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alin.: Nu chiar , sau poate aproape dar niciodata la fel , pentru ca inca nu cunosteam acest domeniu si probabil era si dorinta de cunoastere care ma macina si inca ma macina dar nu asupra aceluasi lucru. E ca o chestie care la inceput tii foarte mult dar dupa te plictisesti de ea , asa si cu dragostea la un moment dat devine ceva obisnuit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Bianca: Cat de mult a ajutat la formarea ta ca om,experienta asta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alin.: Nu ca om neaparat dar m-a ajutat sa inteleg ce e cu dragostea sau cel putin cu relatiile , cu fetele . Fiind prima "aventura" referitor la relatii,mi-a deschis niste usi spre cunostere in legatura cu iubirea .Bine , acum nu mi-am creat niste principii foarte clare , dar pot spune ca da m-a ajutat. Experienta in sine a fost ceva fabulos , ceva ce nu o sa uit probabil niciodata , a fost trist dar in acelasi timp ceva frumos , pentru ca a fost prima data.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Bianca: Ce principii legate de dragoste ai?Pe ce se bazeaza la tine de fapt,iubirea?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alin.: Nici acum nu am niste principii foarte clare legate de asta , de ce?Nu stiu , poate pentru ca nu am inca destula experienta.La mine iubirea nu se bazeaza pe niste lucruri stricte , iubirea vine , pleaca si tot asa . Cred ca persoana de langa mine trebuie sa fie in primul rand ... femeie (naturala)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bianca: Am inteles.Defineste putin dragostea,ce e ea pt tine momentan?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alin.: Dragostea pentru mine , nu e chiar totul , dragostea e un sentiment placut care ma face sa sufar... uneori . Dragostea nu e ceva concret , defapt nici nu imi dau seama cand sunt indragostit uneori , insa imi e mai usor acum sa recunosc decat atunci. Stii si tu... cand iubesti esti in al 9-lea cer ca dupa o luna sa te injuri de tot ce ai cu ea sau el , lucrurile astea sunt trecatoare dar in cele mai multe cazuri pun foarte mult suflet si tocmai de aia cred ca sufar dupa. Dragostea pentru mine simbolizeaza doua lucruri , fericire si suferinta. Defapt cred ca pentru mine nu poate exista dragoste fara suferinta .&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Bianca: Este si normal.In cazul asta,mersi mult pentru experienta impartasita.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alin.: Si eu iti multumesc, aveam nevoie de un asemenea interviu.CIUS&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/1110655920772142130-2650296458183923907?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2650296458183923907/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2650296458183923907' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2650296458183923907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2650296458183923907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/when-ypu.html' title='When you&apos;re too in love to let it go.2'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4716488234272627576</id><published>2010-01-29T22:15:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T23:07:24.230+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Whaddddup?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ce faci acum? :))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ilinca[la 5 minute distanta de mine - ii e mereu foame si se enerveaza repede]: ma gandesc la Silviu si la faptul ca se poarta rosu anul asta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Valy[facultate Bucuresti - ii plac fetele si mancarea]: ma gandesc sa ma mut in Rep. Modldova ca e mai ieftina viata acolo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Razvan[pe undeva prin Prahova - rockar indragostit de baschet]: ma duc sa imi fac un sandwich mic &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Cristi[Bucuresti - furnizorul meu de muzica si omu' meu (nu,nu genul de om ca gagic)]: varsat de vant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Cristina[...?]: fac teste pe facebook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Marius[nu iar,din nou,Bucuresti - el e cu muzica ;;)]: ma gandeam la gogoasa pe care o mananc acum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Silviu[gagicu' de mai sus al Ilincai - blocat la tara]: citesc libertatea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Alin[cu ochii bulbucati dupa 2 ore de Avatar]: repar web!ce?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Stefan[Brasov - un fel de eu la masculin]: cant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Mihai[Still Prahova - fumeaza chestii ilegale si fu** tipe mai mari]: mananc paste.Sunt bune&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Anda[starleta din interviu]: fucking dead. [am citat]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Vlad[nu-i nevoie de descriere]: rulez un cui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Iustin[Iasi,dar momentan e in Brasov - fotograf bun,bun bun bun]: acum,ma gandesc la tine [nu interpretati!!!]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Se pare ca majoritatea oamenilor sunt cam mancaciosi in seara asta,mda...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tu ce faci,duuuude?:&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/1110655920772142130-4716488234272627576?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4716488234272627576/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4716488234272627576' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4716488234272627576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4716488234272627576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/whaddddup.html' title='Whaddddup?'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-8643000552916252547</id><published>2010-01-24T16:36:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T16:42:42.267+02:00</updated><title type='text'>When you're too in love to let it go.1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Buna,banuiesc ca stii deja subiectul,deci nu il mai repet,incep direct.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Zi-mi te rog,la ce varsta te-a lovit gagicareala?Iubirea,in fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Pai de pe la 4-5 ani,dar adevarata chestie,adica atunci cand am inceput sa simt ceva cu adevarat a fost pe la 12 ani cred ba nu...mint!Aveam 13 atunci&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Cum s-a intamplat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Pe mess.Bine,de fapt am fost batuta la cap ca „iti place de tipu’ asta nuuu?”ca tot vorbeam despre el si cei din jurul meu si-au dat seama primii,apoi eu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Ce crezi..asa se intampla de obicei?E mai greu sa realizezi cand esti indragostit?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Nu!Atunci cand esti indragostit CA LUMEA o stii,o simti.Constientizezi nu te trezesti intr-o dimineata : Ba mie cred ca imi place de x!Nu.Vorbesti si vorbesti si bingo: OMG IMI PLACE DE  ASTA !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Cum a fost cand ai constientizat?Sau de fapt,ai constientizat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Pai...a fost ok...pentru ca era un tip ok(sau ma rog, credeam ca e...si chiar e pe langa ceilalti de care mi-a placut si au aflat) pentru el, fata de ceilalti doi care au urmat am avut o simpatie sincera.Vroiam ce e mai bun pentru el nu vroiam sa fim impreuna,nu il placeam egoist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Stii cum se zice: dragostea nu e atunci cand il vrei doar pentru tine,ci cand il vrei pentru tine daca ii e si lui bine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Da, exact!La el a fost diferit fata de ceilalti.Eram impacata cu gandul ca nu va putea fi niciodata cu mine,eram diferiti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Ai iubit pur,fiind prima dragoste probabil...cat de departe te-ai visat cu el?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Nu foarte departe.D-abia daca am visat ca ne sarutam...Simplul fapt ca eram prieteni imi era de ajuns.Sufeream, radeam cu el si atata timp cat vorbeam si ne intelegeam bine, era ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Comunicati doar virtual?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Nu,ne-am si intalnit.Desi cand eram pe langa el ma cam blocam,eu in principiu fiind destul de caterincoasa si orice spuneam mi se parea ca nu e indeajuns de bun pe langa ce spunea el.Si acum mai am anumite blocaje, dar nu ma mai intereseaza parerea lui din moment ce nu il mai plac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Cum a fost prima intalnire?Aveai ganganii in stomac?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Bai,sincer nu imi aduc aminte,oricum treceam mereu pe langa blocul lui si daca il vedeam nu il salutam  si intr-o seara de Sf. Andrei m-am intors cu el si inca doua tipe acasa si a fost asa fun.Niciodata insa nu am iesit singuri...ah, si in seara aia mergeam brat la brat cu el  a fost dragut ii simteam parfumul, stii..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Lucrurile astea mici fac iubirea sa creasca.Daca ti-as spune sa intorci timpul sa schimbi ceva legat de voi doi,ce ai schimba?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Fazele pe care le faceam eu...aveam niste crize de copil nebatut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Era greu sa te controlezi in preajma lui?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Pai le faceam pe mess mai mult.In realitate eram destul de tacuta,fata de celalalt tip de care mi-a placut unde cand ieseam vorbeam eu cel mai mult.Pe ala l-am placut egoist, e alta poveste!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Vorbim momentan de asta,fiindca e prima si e cea mai importanta...Zi-mi,care a fost cea mai penibila faza legata de voi doi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Nu-mi amintesc nicio faza penibila ...dar  cred ca atunci cand in loc de „sec” am scris „sex” si a facut mare caz pe chestia asta si in general mai ziceam eu ampenii si faceam misto de mine,dar nimic cu adevarat penibil ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Te-a facut vreodata sa ai impresia ca te iubeste?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Nu neaparat ca ma iubeste,dar ca tine la mine.S-a dat la mine si mi s-a spus ca m-ar placea si bineinteles ca asta m-a indus foarte mult in eroare.Nu m-a placut niciodata, a fost doar o chestie tampita inventata de un "prieten".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Ce te atragea cel mai tare la el?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Nu era cine stie ce frumusete.Imi placea ca era amuzant si un fapt care m-a marcat pe mine foarte tare este ca eram nascuti in aceeasi zi chiar daca era diferenta de 3 ani.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Frumos asa,acum cum va intelegeti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Pai,am avut o perioada lunga in care n-am mai prea vorbit sau vorbeam rareori si putin. Acum ne-am mai strans legaturile si suntem ok.Nimic serios dar nici rece adica,da, suntem ok &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Cine,sau mai exact ce te-a determinat sa renunti la el?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Faptul ca l-am cunoscut mai bine!O prietena foarte buna de-a lui cu care ma intelegeam eu mi-a spus: „Sa stii odata ce o sa il cunosti cu adevarat, o sa-ti treaca.”Ma rog,odata cu iesirile si chestii i-am cunoscut aproape toate fetele,desi este un om oarecum impreivizibil sa zicem ca asta a fost 80% din chestie restul de 20% a fost un altul (adica alt baiat).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Ai mai simtit sentimenul ala de dragoste asa intens de atunci?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Nu!Niciodata...Tin la el ca la un amic,nimic mai mult si cred ca se implineste deja un an de cand mi-a trecut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: A fost greu?A fost nevoie de pasi marunti sa treci peste,sau impunandu-ti ai reusit rapid?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: ...hmmm...Sincer nu stiu cum am reusit sa uit de el.Efectiv m-am trezit ca atunci cand vorbeam cu el,nu mai simteam nimic,eram indiferenta.Imi pasa de el,indeed dar nu la fel ca inainte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Ceea ce conteaza de fapt,este ca ai reusit sa il uiti si ca acum este totul in regula...Insira-mi in cateva randuri parerea ta despre iubire,sau in cateva cuvinte,tu stii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Poate fi oare posibil ca o persoana cu atatea capricii si simpatii sa nu aiba habar nimic despre iubire?Eu nu stiu ce e iubirea, nu gasesc cuvinte sau sintagme sa o definesc&lt;br /&gt;atunci cand nu cunosc nu prea pot sa imi dau cu parerea,dar sunt convinsa ca iubirea e atunci cand iubesti si vrei ca omul pe care il iubesti sa fie fericit si daca fericirea lui e alaturi de tine atunci e vi$$ (=)) ) pentru amandoi! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: Inca o intrebare si te las apoi...Crezi ca o sa mai iubesti asa pur ca prima oara?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda: Da!Sunt convinsa,dar atunci cand voi gasi pe cineva care sa merite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bianca: In cazul asta,abia astept sa te vad iar indragostita,si..multumesc pentru interviu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Anda: Cu mare placere!Sa-mi zici cand apare in revista,sa fac reclama.( =)) iar)&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/1110655920772142130-8643000552916252547?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/8643000552916252547/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=8643000552916252547' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8643000552916252547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/8643000552916252547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/when-youre-too-in-love-to-let-it-go1.html' title='When you&apos;re too in love to let it go.1'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4680524139935959542</id><published>2010-01-24T01:49:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T03:09:47.973+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cand iubesti..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S1uTZeJMCaI/AAAAAAAAANg/sb39hphXBgM/s1600-h/Age___Love_is_ageless_by_Amersill.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 276px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S1uTZeJMCaI/AAAAAAAAANg/sb39hphXBgM/s320/Age___Love_is_ageless_by_Amersill.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430095841522878882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;Pe cand eram copila si simteam fiecare atingere a lui extraordinar de intens,noptile mele erau mai albe dar zilele mult mai fericite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;Nimic de taiat vene in ce zic eu,fiindca nu vreau sa ajung la chestii gen "Drama Queen" insa,vreau doar sa spun ca am incetat sa mai simt ce simteam atunci.N-am mai avut niciun sir de nopti albe pierdute pe lacrimi izvorate din paranoia fiindca acum o las mai moale.Nu insinuez ca asta as vrea,dar hai sa te lamuresc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;Primele atingeri pe fese si sani nu mi s-au parut nicidecum perverse.Nici in 10 ani nu m-as fi putut gandi ca din asta voi ajunge la sex si acum nici in 20 de ani nu m-as putea gandi ca atingerile vor ramane simple atingeri pline de fiori,nu de ceva pervers.Cat despre sarut...nu cred ca am sa mai simt niciodata ce am simtit cand l-am descoperit.Era extrordinar de pur,fiindca buzele mele erau virgine si tremurau la atingerile buzelor lui.Mi-e dor sa simt ce simteam atunci si ceea ce doare cel mai tare este ca nu imi pot impune.Nu pot programa dragostea cum programez alarma pe la 8 dimineata si nici fiorii nu ii pot readuce daca nu simt nimic.Sunt totusi fercita ca e un inceput acum,dupa ceva vreme.Vorbesc despre iubire ca despre ceva extraordinar.Ca despre un drog care te face sa te lasi de pacalelile alea de prafuri care-ti fac nasul rosu si-ti recreeaza intr-un stil aparte toate scenele pe care le-ai vazut prin filme cand erai mic si de care ai uitat;toate scenele care ai vrea sa se intample si toate fobiile tesute intr-un film horror.Da!Dragostea e drogul care te motiveaza sa traiesti in primul rand,dar sa fie clar...nu vorbesc aici de iubire superficiala,ci de iubire pura.Iubirea de care discutam mai sus.Iubirea care te face sa te simti incepator in ale vietii desi sa zicem ca ai 30 de ani si un amalgam de experiente.Iubirea care te face sa te gandesti noaptea la cati copii o sa ai cu el/ea si cat de devreme va trebui sa iesiti din casa vara cand veti fi batranei,sa nu va bata soarele in ceafa.Iubirea care te face sa vrei sa o ai in brate in fiecare zi si sa imbatranesti asa cu ea.Ascult de cele mai multe ori parerile multor oameni si imi fixez in cap idei.Aud cum ca ar fi o rusine sa ai mainile pe sub tricoul lui cand suneti la semafor de exemplu.O fi,dar...Ce conteaza?Va iubiti fratilor.Faceti sex pe semafor si daramati-l daca e nevoie.Daca dragostea voastra e in floare printre culorile delirante ale semaforului,atunci uitati de lume fiindca acela e momentul vostru!Sunt nonconformista in d'astea si poate parerile mele ti se par aberante sau deloc dezvoltate,dar atata timp cat e o tara libera,am sa pictez peretii si-am sa va zgarii pe timpane daca va fi nevoie,ca sa-mi fac publica parerea.Am dat-o din una in alta din nou,asa cum fac mereu.Esentialul a fost spus si de mai mult nu cred ca ar fi nevoie.Daca inca citesti ce zic,stiu ca mi-ai inteles parerea si sper sa nu te apuci sa o interpretezi gresit.Ca prima oara poate nimic nu se mai simte,fiindca prima dragoste e clar..nu se uita niciodata!Astept sa-mi zici si tu de prima ta dragoste...As incepe ceva nou pe blog,dar aici,am nevoie de tine.Nu e mare chestie...Si..ca sa incep si eu ca la emisiunea 9292 cu dr. Andrei,sau ca la French Kiss de pe KissFM: "Zi-mi povestea ta si sunt aici sa te ascult!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&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:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;Seara buna iti doresc.&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/1110655920772142130-4680524139935959542?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4680524139935959542/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4680524139935959542' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4680524139935959542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4680524139935959542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/cand-iubesti.html' title='Cand iubesti..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S1uTZeJMCaI/AAAAAAAAANg/sb39hphXBgM/s72-c/Age___Love_is_ageless_by_Amersill.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4109527108501115168</id><published>2010-01-19T21:18:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T02:53:36.343+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Interzis nefumatorilor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6633FF;"&gt;Mi-am blocat vorbele.Le-am interzis de tot azi...le-am cenzurat.Ma preseaza timpul si simt o nota de mare inferioritate uitandu-ma la voi.Ma simt ca si cum lumea in sine imi apartine desi eu nu apartin ei.Ma trece un fior uscat si rece ca frunzele toamnei pe sira spinarii si-l simt cum imi intra in piele si ma strapunge,plimbandu-se printre coaste...E efemer,dar exista!Imi scade pulsul,incet...E un fel de agonie interioara pe care o simte decat subconstientul si poate inima,cel mai intens.Bucata aia de carne,legata cu artere de mine se zbate si uneori ar vrea sa iasa,o simt.Pupilele...se misca disperate cautand un semn,un simplu semn si-l pierd din arie desi el e acolo.Concentrarea mea se transforma in pulbere si atat.Adun informatiile cyberculturale ale lumii asteia meschine,ursuze.Pupilele mele privesc adanc in pupilele tale si vad haos.Tot zgomotul din lume e inchis in ochii tai,copile,deci te rog...DESCHIDE-I! Fugi de ei...fugi cat poti de tare de monstrii astia cu capete de senatori care te vaneaza de la inaltime si arunca in tine sageti pline de veninul si ura altora.Fa diferenta cat mai poti intre funie si foarfeca,copile.Aripile tale nu sunt taiate,sunt doar legate.Scapa de funii,caci funiile sunt viciile ce au la contraindicatii trecerea timpului pe langa tine.De ce nu ma iei de mana ca sa fugim din lumea lor?Sa ne lasam gandurile expuse la soare si sa privim amandoi lumea asta haotica.Sa ma iei in brate noaptea cand imi e frig si sa adormi cu mine langa tine...Salveaza-te copile,tu n-ai ce cauta in plasa lor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6633FF;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6633FF;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6633FF;"&gt;[numai ganja putea da asemenea filme incat sa scriu asemenea lucruri..sau numai mintea mea bolnava:))]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-4109527108501115168?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4109527108501115168/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4109527108501115168' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4109527108501115168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4109527108501115168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/interzis-nefumatorilor.html' title='Interzis nefumatorilor'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-7538370472720008234</id><published>2010-01-17T23:55:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T23:59:20.966+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cand eram mica obisnuiam sa...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S1OIMFGbtMI/AAAAAAAAANY/YexWqz99V48/s1600-h/Childhood_Eden_by_ahermin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S1OIMFGbtMI/AAAAAAAAANY/YexWqz99V48/s320/Childhood_Eden_by_ahermin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427831717020546242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cand eram mica obisnuiam sa cred si sa fac o groaza de prostii..Credeam ca benzina din balta e un curcubeu care o sa apara pe cer cand va ploua prea tare si apa nu va mai avea loc in balta..ceea ce era o mare absurditate,dar era ideea mea si credeam in ea.Credeam..credeam ca o sa cresc si o sa fiu o briosa,sau cel putin,speram asta.Credeam ca daca o sa fac un cort pe balcon o sa fie o idee brilianta,dar s-a lasat cu par smuls (chiar si piele) din cauza scotch-ului cu care il lipisem si care ajunsese pe Ilinca..Obisnuiam sa stau pe balcon vara si sa beau ceva,orice..uitandu-ma cum trec masinile si gandindu-ma cu oroare ca nu am ce face maine,dar imi era bine.Imi era bine crezand ca poneiul e aceeasi chestie cu inorogul si acadelele sunt gume intarite.Credeam ca , cubuletele de zahar sunt lipite cu miere si ca mierea se ia cu lingurita din stup si se pune in borcane.. Credeam ca daca ai cosuri nu te speli...Credeam ca e mai bine sa te dai cu un parfum dulce fiindca o sa pari mai femeie.Asa eram eu..si asa sunt si acum,la fel de zapacita.Inca astept Fat-Frumosul pe un cal sau un chopper...Inca mai sper ca Fat-Frumosul meu sa vrea sa fie un ecler..Briosa si eclerul...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand eram mica obisnuiam sa visez la clipa asta...ca acum sa obisnuiesc sa o traiesc!&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/1110655920772142130-7538370472720008234?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/7538370472720008234/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=7538370472720008234' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7538370472720008234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/7538370472720008234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/cand-eram-mica-obisnuiam-sa.html' title='Cand eram mica obisnuiam sa...'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S1OIMFGbtMI/AAAAAAAAANY/YexWqz99V48/s72-c/Childhood_Eden_by_ahermin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3648907365887234240</id><published>2010-01-10T18:45:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T18:48:58.628+02:00</updated><title type='text'>...intr-o zi cat altii in zece ani!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0oExZg5FXI/AAAAAAAAANQ/Bk-t_MR7LXY/s1600-h/This_long_silence_by_BetaAquilae.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0oExZg5FXI/AAAAAAAAANQ/Bk-t_MR7LXY/s320/This_long_silence_by_BetaAquilae.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425153947830130034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Am citit azi un banc care zicea asa: ”Fat-Frumos crestea intr-o zi cat altii in zece ani...Si-ntr-o saptamana a murit...”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M-am gandit cred ca la tot ce m-as fi putut gandi in timp ce faceam curatenie si lasam cateva raze sa-mi inunde camera [asta pana sa se innoreze].Aranjam hainele si imi spuneam ca-s prea multe pacate-n lumea asta,pentru ca mai apoi sa scutur carpetele si sa ma gandesc de ce-mi place mazarea mai mult decat spanacul.In timp ce priveam cum se scalda soarele in nori si din nori din ce in ce mai jos,balconul de la etajul noua din blocul de langa al meu mi-a atras atentia.Palpaia ca si cum un copil retard de 7-8 ani tot aprindea si singea becul sau ca si cum cineva se tot curenta.E posibil sa nu ma fi inselat prea tare decat in cazul uneia dintre teorii fiindca s-a oprit la un moment dat…ceea ce m-a facut sa ma gandesc ca ori s-a ars becul,ori a murit cineva carbonizat.Ma fascineaza blocul ala…Ma fascineaza pentru ca e plin de activitati.Ma intreb…cum ar fi daca as fi bloc si as avea in mine atata energie,atatea certuri,atatea tipete,atata veselie,atata nebunie,atata cafea facuta dimineata si atatia pasi grabiti pe scari inspre scoala sau servici…cum?Desi nu mai e soare,pe cer inca se observa o urma..Ca atunci cand stergi geamul dar nu foarte bine!Am fost cu mintea pe zeci de carari azi si nu pentru ca am baut vin,ca astrala nu eram [beata adica],ci doar din cauza faptului ca am stat in casa si am avut timp sa ma gandesc la atatea.Faceam slalom printre oameni pe strada azi si ma gandeam cat de multe secrete stiu felinarele.Cat de multe fete au avut primul sarut lipit de un felinar si cat de multi baieti si-au spart mufarina sub lumina slaba a felinarului…?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fine..asa si cu gandurile mele.Am gandit intr-o zi,cat altii in zece ani… :)!&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/1110655920772142130-3648907365887234240?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3648907365887234240/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3648907365887234240' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3648907365887234240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3648907365887234240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/intr-o-zi-cat-altii-in-zece-ani.html' title='...intr-o zi cat altii in zece ani!'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0oExZg5FXI/AAAAAAAAANQ/Bk-t_MR7LXY/s72-c/This_long_silence_by_BetaAquilae.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-2502413474731938368</id><published>2010-01-09T17:34:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T21:15:05.690+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0ioL51sVTI/AAAAAAAAANI/iFAjRgNWXp4/s1600-h/summer_by_dokkuz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0ioL51sVTI/AAAAAAAAANI/iFAjRgNWXp4/s320/summer_by_dokkuz.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424770673625814322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;M-am sucit,m-am foit prin pat noaptea trecuta si nu am reusit sa dorm,poate decat in reprize.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;M-am trezit dimineata si m-am uitat putin pe geam..ceata parea ca nu mai face loc rasaritului sangeriu din dimineata asta rece de ianuarie.Aerul de afara se izbea de geam si brusc,m-a izbit si pe mine somnul...Dupa o noapte nedormita era cazul sa adorm putin.Am avut o dimineata tipica cu cafeaua pa balcon inspirand aer de trafic aglomerat si cu ochii intredeschisi privind oamenii care-si faceau plimbarea de pranz (care pt mine era dimineata).Nu am facut mai nimic azi,sincer...Intr-un mod aiurea,m-am plimbat doar cum n-am mai facut-o de mult.Chiar asa..de mult n-am mai aiurit prin oras fiindca mi se pare ca de mult n-am mai avut ocazia sau timpul necesar.Am nevoie sa treaca timpul si sa se opreasca apoi in vacanta.Mi-e dor,atat de dor de mare...Mi-e dor sa stau intinsa pe plaja ziua si sa dorm...Mi-e dor sa ma plimb noaptea pe langa valuri si sa le las sa imi inece gleznele uneori...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;"Acolo caut marea si acolo plec cand doare..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/mirceabalatescu/7c651009921c9f.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Coldplay - See You Soon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Divertisment" title="Divertisment"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Asculta mai multe audio Divertisment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Noptile alea de vara tarzii si fierbinti mi-au placut mereu...Partea aia a zilei calda in care soarele apune e superba,e superba fiindca stii ca si maine o sa apuna si nu o sa fie nevoie sa faci nimic,nu o sa fie nevoie sa te grabesti nicaieri.Poti sa stai vara..sa stai pe jos,pe o bordura si sa scuipi semninte cu berea langa tine in timp ce soarele te bate-n ceafa si te incalzeste teribil...Poti sa stai la umbra unui copac si sa dormi fara sa fie nevoie sa te trezesti la o anumita ora...Poti sa mergi desculta pe strada noaptea din centru pana acasa fiindca sandalele ti-au facut niste rani aiurea si oricum asfaltul e cald..Poti sa joci baschet pana tarziu pe acelasi teren fierbinte...Poti sa iei primul tren si sa pleci oriunde ca sa stai oricat,fiindca e din nou vara!Poti sa iubesti vara,fiindca iubirea din vara e mai intensa,stiu...Mi-e dor de vara,nostalgica clipa...&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/1110655920772142130-2502413474731938368?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/2502413474731938368/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=2502413474731938368' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2502413474731938368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/2502413474731938368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/summer.html' title='Summer'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0ioL51sVTI/AAAAAAAAANI/iFAjRgNWXp4/s72-c/summer_by_dokkuz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-3785637868092572783</id><published>2010-01-06T20:40:00.013+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T02:54:02.178+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop violentei!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0ThYOw7J2I/AAAAAAAAANA/E6aB-QZBd8w/s1600-h/Final_Blow_by_eyrieslove1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0ThYOw7J2I/AAAAAAAAANA/E6aB-QZBd8w/s320/Final_Blow_by_eyrieslove1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423707657657329506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;Nu cred ca o sa ma chinui prea tare sa scriu in seara asta.Sunt dubios de obosita.Tot ceea ce stiu e ca maine am o zi plina si ma asteapta niste saptamani extraordinar de stresante,dar ca la febra hectica e bine macar ca am realizat asta inainte,ca sa pot preveni chestiile aiurea.Cat eram sub dus azi,impreuna cu apa,ma loveau mii de ganduri si daca tot am folosit verbul 'a lovi' o sa ma leg putin de violenta la adresa femeilor.Sunt PRO campaniilor impotriva violentei,si mai ales la noi.Sunt PRO,pentru ca nu mi se pare normal sa fim considerate inferioare atata timp cat nu suntem.Mi-a atras atentia un articol care spunea cam asa: "In societatea romaneasca violenta impotriva femeilor este tolerata si chiar incurajata fiind considerata naturala, de inteles, tolerabila, meritata, ordine naturala a lucrurilor,inevitabila, crucea femeii, parte din afacerea numita casatorie."Adica mai simplu,traim intr-o comunitate de animale,daca violenta este agreata.In esenta,de ce ai da intr-o femeie?Nu stii cum sa o convingi,nu stii cum sa te impui asa ca trebuie sa o lovesti sa ii arati tu "cine e seful" ?Extraordinar!Urasc din toata inima barbatii violenti precum urasc si alcoolicii[Doamne,sper sa nu am parte].Mentionez din nou ca ii sustin la randul meu pe cei ce sustin ideea de nonviolenta in general,dar MAI ALES la femei!Ca sa termin cu femeile,o sa ma leg putin si de violenta in general.Ma uitam in curtea scolii la boracii de pe a VI-a s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;au a VII-a cum se bateau si stateam sa ma intreb: karata asta au invatat-o in familie sau de la TV? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;Stiu ca e dubios sa ma leg de asta din senin,dar nu e tocmai brusc.Avand in verdere postarea anterioara cu haosul,am comentat aici doar o subdiviziune.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;STOP violentei!&lt;/span&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/1110655920772142130-3785637868092572783?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/3785637868092572783/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=3785637868092572783' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3785637868092572783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/3785637868092572783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/stop-violentei.html' title='Stop violentei!'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0ThYOw7J2I/AAAAAAAAANA/E6aB-QZBd8w/s72-c/Final_Blow_by_eyrieslove1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-74216097509799425</id><published>2010-01-05T21:10:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T21:41:19.215+02:00</updated><title type='text'>E...Haos?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0OVM_WufmI/AAAAAAAAAM4/5dB0iFL14O4/s1600-h/iarna2_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 195px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0OVM_WufmI/AAAAAAAAAM4/5dB0iFL14O4/s320/iarna2_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423342426681933410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Nu stiu daca mai tineti voi minte,dar eu pt 2010 mi-am dorit mai multa lectura si slava Domnului am primit-o.Citesc 2 carti in paralel ca pe a III-a deja am terminat-o.Frumos sa lecturezi,chiar frumos.In fine..am avut azi o zi de exceptie.Am intarziat iar la prima ora.Nici nu stiam ce scuza sa mai bag [antrenamente,mi-a intarziat autobuzul,a fost traficul aglomerat si nu avea tata cum sa se strecoare..]..Da' de unde?Antrenamentele sunt seara,cu autobuzul merg rar ca nu fac naveta si tata conduce ca un melc,fapt pentru care nu mai avem masina.In fine..am gasit azi un citat absolut si am facut niste realizari interesante de pe urma lui.Citez:"[...]oamenii isi schimba bucuros stapanirea,in credinta ca vor avea alta mai buna,ceea ce ii face sa ridice armele impotriva celui care domneste asupra lor,dar se inseala,pentru ca experienta le arata apoi ca starea lor a devenit de fapt mai rea."Da,asa e.Si asta a fost zisa cu ani buni in urma dar inca mai este valabila pentru vitele din ziua de azi care se cearta pe tema politicii asteia sarace si haotice.Fiindca asa este,e haotica.Daca una dintre regulile pentru a conduce o tara ar fi sa nu schimbi nimic brusc,mai ales cand oamenii s-au obisnuit cu sistemul,atunci e clar ca nu este respectata.De fiecare data cand un alt pinguin schizofrenic ajunge la conducere schimba ceva[in special in invatamant].E HAOS!E haos pentru ca in primul rand suntem un popor obisnuit cu libertatea,cu prea multa libertate de fapt [nu spun ca ar fi ceva rau,dar ce-i prea mult strica] si din cauza asta nimeni nu face fata.Intr-un timp nici guvern nu aveam..pe sistemul "Tine-ma Doamne daca vrei sa ma ai!".Ma uit in jur la oamenii astia ratutiti cu capetele pierdute printre probleme si blocate la servici pe birou printre zeci de dosare.Ma uit la oamenii astia care traiesc o aiureala totala,facand pana si rutina sa devina un dezastru complicat.Ma uit la ei si apoi ma uit la mine in oglinda.O bucata de carne stresata de probleme care de fapt,nici nu prea sunt si  care oricum ar trebui digerate zi de zi.Ma uit si ma gandesc ca 3/4 din viata o s-o traiesc intr-o lume plina de invidie si automat ura.Ce oameni...Ce oameni cu pretentii mari la altii si cu asteptari de la sine asa mici!Eram tampiti si inainte,dar criza ne-a tampit mai rau.E criza de bani,criza de gaz,criza de orice,pana si de zambete.E criza si e haos,dar ne adaptam..&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/1110655920772142130-74216097509799425?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/74216097509799425/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=74216097509799425' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/74216097509799425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/74216097509799425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/ehaos.html' title='E...Haos?!'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0OVM_WufmI/AAAAAAAAAM4/5dB0iFL14O4/s72-c/iarna2_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-4065062678570734701</id><published>2010-01-04T23:20:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T21:17:13.519+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce infinit domne?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0Je4ebbuOI/AAAAAAAAAMw/3diaUsOdnIg/s1600-h/64.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0Je4ebbuOI/AAAAAAAAAMw/3diaUsOdnIg/s320/64.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423001225641310434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Cum in ultima vreme m-am legat de dragoste destul de mult [si nu ca as avea parte] o sa postez si azi tot despre asta.Am avut discutii interesat de enervante cu cineva pe tema: "Dragostea adevarata nu sfarseste tragic niciodata!".Pe dracu nu!In general,sfarseste tragic,si e un lucru complet logic pentru ca vorbind de general,vorbim de oamenii de duzina care actioneaza la fel.Cum adica la fel?Simplu.Iubesc prea mult persoana de langa,fapt pentru care isi doresc sa o tina cat mai mult langa ei.Ok,de aici incep altele gen,posesivitatea,paranoia [care da,la mine exista constant,dar stiu sa o controlez deci nu e problema].In esenta,reusesc sa taie din libertatea celui/celei de langa si indeparteaza usor persoana pe care o iubesc asa tare.Da,este involuntar si da,logic ca nu asta e intentia lor dar asa se intampla - vorbesc de ei,fara sa ma includ pe mine fiindca eu nu am iubit.Chiar daca si ei sunt iubiti e mai simplu pentru cel ce e indepartat sa renunte.Chiar daca se spune ca indiferenta duce la despartire nu exista nicio regula care sa afirme ca posesivitatea duce spre fericire si dragoste eterna - care oricum,stim cu totii ca nu exista.E simplu,e atat de simplu.Sa consideram ca exista exceptii care se iubesc enorm fara sa greseasca dar asta inseamna ca s-au nimerit doi pampalai fiindca oamenii normali au temeri pe care incearca sa le rezolve gresind de cele mai multe ori.In fine,revenind la exceptii,ei se iubesc si sunt fericiti,si ma rog,cat o sa tina iubirea asta?Moare unul,celalalt e viu.Uite exemplu clar de dragoste cu sfarsit tragic:) .Poate sunt rea,poate asa crezi tu,care iubesti sau ai iubit,dar sa fim sinceri,iubirea exista dar nu pe veci.Tot timpul se sfarseste dar tot timpul gasesti ceva mai bun.E simplu,si se vede clar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/BlacKF0X/9da8051bb848ad.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Maroon 5 - This Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Asculta mai multe audio Muzica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;De unde atata iubire infinita?Unde sa incapa atata in fond,ca mai e nevoie si de mancare,nu numai de iubire!:))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&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/1110655920772142130-4065062678570734701?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/4065062678570734701/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=4065062678570734701' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4065062678570734701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/4065062678570734701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/ce-infinit-domne.html' title='Ce infinit domne?'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/S0Je4ebbuOI/AAAAAAAAAMw/3diaUsOdnIg/s72-c/64.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6382404580802551542</id><published>2010-01-03T17:41:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T17:58:32.190+02:00</updated><title type='text'>2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;A venit 2010 in sf!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Nimic deosebit.Da,a fost ziua mea.Da,a fost revelion.Da,e un an nou si sper sa fie cat mai bun atat pt mine cat si pt voi.In fine,am avut un sfarsit de an absolut genial.L-am petrecut cu oameni la care nu m-as fi gandit niciodata dar tot genial ramane.Am mancat mult.Cozonac,sarmale alea alea...un mustar la 7 mii d'aia vechi cu gust de acetona si o branza de Bistrita care a fost facuta in Craiova de un arab.Ma rog,mancare sa fie.Am facut gunoi intr-o saptamana cat pt 2 luni si am avut un jeg extraordinar in casa [de fapt,nu casa mea].Am suflat de 3 ori in lumanari de ziua mea si deci...mi-am pus vreo 3 dorinte diferite [acum ramane de vazut daca se indeplineste vreuna,desi au cam inceput sa miste].Nu-mi convine ca s-a terminat vacanta fiindca am fost cat se poate de relaxata si acum dracu mai intra in forta [desi practic,asa ar trebui].O sa fiu iar ocupata si de fapt,mai mult stresata decat ocupata si nu ma intrebati de ce,ca nici macar eu nu stiu!Vreau sa ma apuc serios de citit,da...mult mai serios ca pana acum.Asta vreau in principal de la 2010 [asta si inca alte cateva pe langa:D].M-am apucat sa citesc o carte si am constatat un lucru.Adolescentii nu sunt vazuti decat ca o masa de crize adolescentine si de fapt,asa e.Toate fazele prin care treci nu sunt decat niste crize.E ciudat uneori...e ciudat sa iti vomiti sentimentele unui om in varsta si sa crezi ca iti e mai bine fara sa realizezi ca esti practic penibil in ochii lui.Esti doar un crizat care-si schimba ideile constant,dar nu-i nimic,fiindca si tu esti constient de asta si astea sunt lucrurile care duc spre formarea TA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;OK.Am aberat destul azi.&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/1110655920772142130-6382404580802551542?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6382404580802551542/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6382404580802551542' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6382404580802551542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6382404580802551542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2010/01/2010.html' title='2010'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6857613792527465698</id><published>2009-12-27T22:51:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T22:58:47.299+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Incarca,trage,impusca..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SzfJz0D2CPI/AAAAAAAAAMo/brjcHjmuysI/s1600-h/74.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 318px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SzfJz0D2CPI/AAAAAAAAAMo/brjcHjmuysI/s320/74.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420022568548960498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Am filme si cand nu trag maria.”&lt;br /&gt;De la replica asta mi s-a sculat inspiratia pentru o postare noua.Ce ciudat e cu starile de spirit,nu?Acum esti trist ca peste 5 minute sa razi ca prostu’ din nimic.Ce dubios ca nu stii sa ti le controlezi si te sperii de tine uneori.Te trezesti dimineata si te privesti in oglinda ciobita din baie intrebandu-te de ce esti asa;de ce nu poti sa te bucuri cu adevarat atunci cand trebuie sau mai rau,de ce nu te mai bucura lucrurile marunte?Fiindca nu le vezi.Ca esti prea ocupat.Prea ocupat sa te benoclezi la TV;prea ocupat sa iti tii pupilele tintite pe net;prea ocupat sa stochezi informatii de cacat care in tot cacatul lor reusesc sa te manipuleze,da..Esti prea ocupat si desi vezi asta nu schimbi nimic.Iti schimbi starile de spirit in functie de canalele TV si iti expui sentimentele printr-un emoticon pe mess.Iubirea e acum inchisa intr-o casuta si variaza intre Esc sau Enter.Ce ocupat esti sa-ti cauti libertatea si ce fericit esti uneori in prostia ta.Desi liber,nu vei inceta sa fii sclavul liberatii in veci!Nici nu mai gandesti si te mandresti cu asta.Tu nu mai ai opinie,dar lasa...lasa-i pe ei sa iti implanteze in creier orice informatie sintetica ce te zgarie pana-ti da sangele si te ia de partea ei.Hai,lasa-i pe ei sa te minta ca e totul bine,fiindca tu ai treaba.Si dupa ce ca esti atat de ocupat facand nimic,iti arzi neuronii cu prostiile legale de la spice in fiecare zi.Bravo!Evident ca efectul lor se pierde si nu se mai manifesta la tine,dar continui sa le inhalezi.O sa faci cancer la plamani si o sa uiti mai rau ca un veteran de razboi dar te doare in pula.Viata ta e frumoasa si esti fericit.Esti fericit pentru ca legalele ti-au futut neuronii si ai uitat ca ai 7 tone de probleme,dar nu-i nimic…In urmatoarele 5 minute o sa uiti si ca esti fericit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;[postarea nu face referire la cineva anume!]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Ma rog,vroiam sa pun si o melodie,dar imi e lene.[era a II-a mea sursa de inspiratie,si anume: Deliric1 cu Silent Strike - Demoncratie]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&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/1110655920772142130-6857613792527465698?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6857613792527465698/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6857613792527465698' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6857613792527465698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6857613792527465698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2009/12/incarcatrageimpusca.html' title='Incarca,trage,impusca..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SzfJz0D2CPI/AAAAAAAAAMo/brjcHjmuysI/s72-c/74.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-1847663680272730964</id><published>2009-12-24T21:22:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T00:00:09.932+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Nu pot sa cred ca..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Te-am intalnit azi,dragule!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Te-am intalnit intr-o gara plina de trenuri aglomerate si m-ai privit adanc,cu ochii tai mari..mirati de imaginile ce le primeau.Credeam ca vrei sa-mi spui ceva cand de fapt tu ma vroiai pe mine muscandu-ma cu privirea.Ah...si ce sentiment superb mi-ai putut da!Pulsul imi crestea si bataile inimii faceau un cantec nebun de dubstep (arterele cred ca tripau).M-ai strans in brate si ti-am simtit oasele (asa aproape eram de tine)....M-ai sarutat intens vreo cateva secunde ce mi-au parut atunci minute,ore,zile..veacuri.Ti-ai plimbat mainile usor pe corpul meu intr-o maniera placuta,deloc perversa caci fiecare gest al tau era tandru si lipsit de tot ceea ce emana ceilalti baieti.Mi-ai dat fiorii primei nopti de sex si emotiile primului sarut doar la o simpla atingere.Mi-ai strans mainile mici in pumnul tau clipind usor,cu buzele intredeschise...ca si cum ai fi vrut sa-mi spui ceva..Dar ai lasat-o balta,de parca eu n-as fi inteles oricum ce ai fi vrut sa zici.Ai plecat pe strada stramtorata si plina de zapada lasand in urma ta niste versuri ce aproape ca le sopteai...si sunau a adio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nu pot sa cred ca mi-ai redat acele sentimente.Nu pot sa cred ca te vreau de ani si te-am avut minute.Nu pot sa cred ca te-am avut cateva minute in cap si de fapt te-am vrut in realitate.Nu pot sa cred ca postez despre tine si nici nu te-am intalnit...Asta nu pot sa cred!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;-Nu pot sa cred ca la 2 dimineata am avut asa o inspiratie..:))-&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/1110655920772142130-1847663680272730964?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/1847663680272730964/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=1847663680272730964' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1847663680272730964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/1847663680272730964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2009/12/nu-pot-sa-cred-ca.html' title='Nu pot sa cred ca..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-283849719227880723</id><published>2009-12-14T20:27:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T20:46:02.048+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Poezie balistica</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Uite ca in sf am ajuns si eu la lansare la Cedry2k - Poezie balistica.Foarte genial.Club marfa,oameni ok,am invatat un dans nou..oricum,am fost in elementul meu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Cum orice parte buna trebuie sa aibe si ceva de cacat,asa a fost si la mine.Am stat destul de incordata din anumite motive..stresata si mai ales,m-am gandit la multe (desi ar fi trebuit sa-mi eliberez mintea).Ma rog,mai stresata am fost la afterparty,ca la concert mai aveam putin si atingeam punctul G cu basii vibrandu-mi in corp si cu versurile pe buze.N-as mai fi ramas la afterparty vreo 2 ore daca as fi avut ce sa fac,dar cum niciun metrou,autobuz sau tramvai nu circulau pe la orele alea,a trebuit sa ma conformez si sa stau.In fine,am ras destul de tare,si asta fara sa vreau neaparat.Asezata pe scena,obosita,incepusem sa urmaresc diversi oameni cu diverse ocupatii,una mai penibila ca cealalta.Atatea one night stand'uri intr-o singura noapte;atatia pasi de dans pe o singura melodie;atatea maini in aer la o singura strigare..Ma uitam la ei si ii vedeam cum danseaza si se pierd unii de altii gasindu-si rapid alta pereche.Da,ma uitam de acolo,de pe scena,si gandeam profund la multe,pana cand a rulat DJ-ul o piesa pe care o respect si mi-a dat si mie o nebuna pofta de dans,care s-a sfarsit printr-un cerc de oameni adunati in jurul meu,al Ilincai si inca unui tip (practicam dansul de care va ziceam mai sus,ma rog,nu tocmai un dans).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Iesiti din club,am mers sa ne plimbam aiurea..si ne-am ratacit intr-un frig incomparabil in minunatul si marele 'Mic Paris' .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;e pustiu cand e intuneric,dar e asa frumos sa ratacesti!&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/1110655920772142130-283849719227880723?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/283849719227880723/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=283849719227880723' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/283849719227880723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/283849719227880723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2009/12/poezie-balistica.html' title='Poezie balistica'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-424162713695040439</id><published>2009-12-05T16:05:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T13:40:57.224+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SxptdiB1yqI/AAAAAAAAAMg/YDE_GDFtias/s1600-h/Christmas___atmosphere_by_do0dz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SxptdiB1yqI/AAAAAAAAAMg/YDE_GDFtias/s320/Christmas___atmosphere_by_do0dz.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411758256357231266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Era imposibil sa nu mi se strice PC-ul din nou,asa ca s-a stricat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;OK,acum e bine,functioneaza,fapt pentru care pot posta din nou,caci sincer...imi era dor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;A venit si iarna,vine si mosu',vin mosii de fapt,colindatorii care zici ca-s dracu.Ei bat la usa,tu iti aduni familia si faceti liniste blocati intr-o camera cat mai departe de usa de la intrare,dar uiti lumina aprinsa si auzi: "Stiu ca sunteti acolo,vedem luminaaaa" urmand clasica: "Am uitat sa o stingem cand am plecaaaat".Right!E frumoasa iarna,dar nu-i frumos cand vrei sa iti cumperi un vin fiert pe care dai vreo 4 lei si e intr-o canuta cat paharelul de tuica fiarta si nici macar canuta aia nu e full,e doar asa pe fund....ma rog,iarna!Oricum,destul cu astea!N-am mai facut nimic in ultimul timp,nu stiu daca am apucat sa scriu de plecarea mea la Sibiu,dar nici nu o voi face,sunt prea multe detalii si oricum,ce-i prea mult bate la ochi si plictiseste.M-am gandit la multe,inclusiv la gandire in sine si la cat de ravasite pot fi gandurile;la cat de greu poate fi sa povestesti ceva cand ai prea multe fiindca niciodata nu stii cu ce sa incepi avand in vedere ca ideile nu se leaga,deci nu au un inceput comun.Mi se imprastiau gandurile in drum spre Valcea,de la Sibiu,ca masinile pe sosea.Probabil realizarea principala din acea seara a fost ca eu nu sunt facuta (cel putin momentan) pentru relatii;nu sunt facuta sa fiu legata.Nu pot sa stau cu cineva mai mult de 2-3 luni (la 3 nici nu am ajuns),Dumnezeu stie de ce.Sper totusi sa ma loveasca si pe mine dragostea si sa simt ca pot sa stau langa omul ala oricat,fara sa ma plictisesc si fara alte mofturi.Bineee,bun,terminand si cu subiectul asta,am mai constat ceva ce evident ca toata lumea stia: "Daca o problema apare acum,e clar ca urmatoarele saptamani sau luni(in cazul nefericitilor-&gt; vezi cazul de fata,EU) vor fi bantuite de alte probleme,ca doar,n-are cum sa vina singura,tre' sa-si ia intreg neamul."Cat timp n-am avut PC am ascultat multa rockareala,ceea ce nu am mai facut de mult..si ce bine m-am simtit..Da,nu stiu de ce am tinut mortis sa mentionez si asta,dar pana meaaa,chiar asa a fost.Cu tot cu gandurile mele imprastiate printre masini,am avut timp sa observ cat de trist mi se pare orasul..Valcea nu mai e jeg,e fad.A avut grija primarul sa acopere tot cu o ploaie de beculete albastre de care n-ai cum sa scapi nici cand nu mai sunt;odata ce le vezi,imaginea te va urmari,impreuna cu colindele lui Hrusca,TOATA IARNA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Multumesc pentru atentia acordata registrului de aberatii pe ziua de azi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Si asta e pentru tine,draga (cum zicea Katana):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/ieconiah/cde3b9a53b05d3.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;strong&gt;Florin Chilian - Zece&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;Asculta mai multe audio Muzica&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-424162713695040439?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/424162713695040439/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=424162713695040439' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/424162713695040439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/424162713695040439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2009/12/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SxptdiB1yqI/AAAAAAAAAMg/YDE_GDFtias/s72-c/Christmas___atmosphere_by_do0dz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6697335901505927501</id><published>2009-11-10T19:08:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T19:10:58.655+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pentru ca n-am mai scris (cu negru)..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Iar n-am mai scris,si mi s-a facut dor.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt obosita.Parca ma oboseste orice,sau poate e doar seara asta mai monotona,mai trista..Merg prin pisatul asta de oras,de ceva vreme incoace si ma dor efectiv pupilele de la privelistea pe care o vad.Balti aproape lacuri in care frunzele si-au lasat culoarea galbuie.Parca cineva s-ar fi pisat,la propriu,pe oras.Nu vreau sa par/sa fiu vulgara,dar asa este.Toamna e cel mai prost anotimp pentru renovari,mai ales afara.Mi-au taiat copacul din fata blocului…era de 12 ani acolo.Parca atatea se schimba si..nu-mi place!Vreau vacanta mai repede.Vreau sa ninga,sa fie orasul alb si sa dispara orice imperfectiune.Vreau sa-mi schimbe cineva becul ca s-a ars si nu mai am la ce ma holba noaptea.De obicei in bec imi gaseam inspiratia si raspunsurile la multe intrebari.As pleca undeva gen..o cabana in varf de munte unde sa nu ma mai sune nimeni,sa nu am semnal si sa ma linistesc pentru ca sunt sincer obosita.Iar am insomnii si cel mai rau e ca iar imi pierd timpul consumand 7000ganduri/secunda.Am avut weekendurile atat de ocupate,incat nici nu mai stiu cum e sa dormi pana pe la 11 si sa te trezesti,sa pleci afara si sa stai aiurea holbat la un apus scuipand seminte si terminand rapid o bere neagra,numai buna.Cam asta ar fi momentan…Ah,si sa mentionez poate si ca am cunoscut multi oameni intr-un timp foarte scurt.Nu era interesant,era doar de precizat.Oricum…seara buna!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SvmeilFQgpI/AAAAAAAAAMY/bL8tAhIMNTI/s320/DSC0090+108.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402523544914526866" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Azi nu mai vreau culori.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/1110655920772142130-6697335901505927501?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6697335901505927501/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6697335901505927501' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6697335901505927501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6697335901505927501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2009/11/pentru-ca-n-am-mai-scris-cu-negru.html' title='Pentru ca n-am mai scris (cu negru)..'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SvmeilFQgpI/AAAAAAAAAMY/bL8tAhIMNTI/s72-c/DSC0090+108.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-6208425671511434204</id><published>2009-10-18T00:26:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T00:27:36.654+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Imi place:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Vezi tu…posibil ca frigul sa aduca amintiri?&lt;br /&gt;In fine,vantul asta obosit mai are putin si-mi crapa geamurile.E frig,sau ca sa citez Bacovia “E sange,plumb si toamna”.Toamna noastra se cam transforma in iarna de fapt,dar merge.Partea dubioasa a situatiei este ca desi e frig,eu simt seara,cand stau pe pervaz  si ma benoclez cu atentie la masinile ce gonesc pe sosea,o atmosfera calda…Acum ca e EL in viata mea am impresia ca am un motiv adevarat sa fac anumite lucruri…lucruri in general,poate chiar fapte microscopice pline de sentimente efemere.Zambesc mult mai des,asta e clar..Probabil o sa imi inghete zambetul pe fata.E posibil,oare?Si chiar daca zambetul meu ar ingheta,inima lui n-ar inceta sa mai bata nici la -70 grade.Oricum,ideea e ca daca am avut pana acum un loc lipsa,acum i-am gasit piesa potrivita.Revenind la amintiri…pai da,ma mai bantuie uneori.Sunt ca niste fantome intr-un pod plin de mii de alte lucruri utile (caci orice informatie iti va fi utila candva).Vreau vacanta…Craciun.Copacii din faza blocului n-au chelit inca..Mai au ceva frunze.Mi-a stricat primaru’ toata privelistea.Mi-a micsorat aleea ca sa mareasca strada si nici nu a terminat constructiile…E o mlastina in toata splendoarea ei la mine in fata blocului.Mlastina cu ciment prin ea si bolovani aruncati de colo-colo.Nici cainii nu mai stau langa banca de urat ce e si nici boschetarii nu mai dorm in gradina.S-au schimbat multe.In scara bloclui nu mai avem bec,doar la intrare de fapt.L-a smuls cineva..Saracu’ bec,cine stie ce probleme o fi creeat?Langa parcarea din spate se mai face o parcare;s-au casatorit vecinii mei azi si am descoperit un magazin nou.Mda..prea multe aberatii in lant bat deja la ochi ca un contrast mult prea puternic.Cand e frig afara oamenii au capul golit de sange (eventual,unii si de creier).E fad orasul,dar inca imi place si inca ma simt bine,cu tot cu atmosfera rece ce seara se simte calda.Imi place. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/1110655920772142130-6208425671511434204?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/6208425671511434204/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=6208425671511434204' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6208425671511434204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/6208425671511434204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2009/10/imi-place.html' title='Imi place:)'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-5286188306076208393</id><published>2009-10-04T22:28:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T22:31:06.609+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Taifun in miezul verii</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Un om ce se lupta cu gandurile e ca taifunul in miezul verii – total lipsit de sens.&lt;br /&gt;Sa cauti sens la orice raspuns si raspuns la orice intrebare,dar sa nu stii cine esti;sa-ti plangi de mila intr-o statie de autobuz pe-un timp de toamna fluierand o melodie ce suna prea mult a melancolie…;sa-ti bei cafeaua amara pe balconul murdarit de amintiri si sa privesti cum trec masinile in goana;sa rasfoiesti aceleasi pagini rupte din aceeasi carte prafuita de timp…Toate trairile interioare se transforma in cioburi si te ranesc la fiecare miscare facuta brusc.Vrei sa iesi din tipar si recurgi la penibil.Treci prin viata plictisit si pierzi degeaba anii.Te blochezi undeva intre aberatie si rutina si tripezi ca si cum ai fi sedat,dar singurul tau sedativ e de fapt singura ta scapare,singurul tau viciu,singurul tau refugiu – cei patru pereti intre care te ascunzi ca sa fumezi tigari si vise.Nebunia iti ineaca mintea si alcoolul iti ineaca organismul.Stai crispat uneori si privesti in vid.Gura ti se deschide in speranta ca vei lasa sa iasa un strigat de ajutor – in zadar!Vorbesti cu sunet mut…Ajungi sa te lupti in intuneric pentru un singur punct de lumina care nu e raza de soare,caci soarele tau a apus de mult…E lumina de la alarma,ai setat-o mai de mult.Azi,ti-a sunat…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/criptzy/38ee3503e4dc94.swf"&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://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/criptzy/38ee3503e4dc94.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;strong&gt;nasta-amintire fara rost&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;Asculta mai multe audio Muzica&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/1110655920772142130-5286188306076208393?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/5286188306076208393/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=5286188306076208393' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5286188306076208393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5286188306076208393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2009/10/taifun-in-miezul-verii.html' title='Taifun in miezul verii'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-5427474544357155649</id><published>2009-09-30T00:05:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T00:17:37.604+03:00</updated><title type='text'>..hm</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SsJ5aCpmNPI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/Rr3ooXu3UCE/s1600-h/Stuff+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SsJ5aCpmNPI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/Rr3ooXu3UCE/s320/Stuff+011.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387001592583435506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Cum saptamana asta a inceput relativ bine,am inceput deci si eu,sa postez pe blog:)),ca daca era nasoala,nu mai postam,imi era prea lene sa ma plang de tot ce mi s-a intamplat.In esenta,nu s-a intamplat nimic spectaculos,au fost chestii gen: scoala,vecina de deasupra care are insomnii si tot merge pe parchet ca sa-mi scartaie mie-n creieri,vecinu' cu mixtape de Parazitii si Guta,ceaiul de dimineata cu o aroma diferita ca nu mai am musetel,carti,concursuri,proze alea-alea.Toate astea + o mini-raceala.Oricum,am raspuns azi la o provocare si am ajuns sa fac o povestioara tare aiurea concluzionand ca Harry Potter si Twilight nu mai sunt la moda,acum Marius si Mimi sunt pe trend.Pentru mai multe detalii:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;http://pacu.toateblogurile.ro/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1110655920772142130-5427474544357155649?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/5427474544357155649/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=5427474544357155649' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5427474544357155649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/5427474544357155649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2009/09/hm.html' title='..hm'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SsJ5aCpmNPI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/Rr3ooXu3UCE/s72-c/Stuff+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1110655920772142130.post-386485091048541615</id><published>2009-09-22T23:48:00.008+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T00:09:30.120+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pam Pam :x</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;N-am mai simtit de mult un gol in stomac,sau fluturi care se plimba in gol imbatati cu dragoste.De mult nu m-am mai trezit cu un EL in gand si de mult n-am mai putut sa retin un alt numar de telefon,in afara de al meu.De mult nu am mai fost asa happy...din toate punctele de vedere.Nu am mai zambit de mult atatea zile la rand.Nu am mai scris de mult un nume pe banca.Nu am mai fost de mult asa aeriana (ok,mint,mereu sunt aeriana,dar de data asta sunt aeriana la patrat).Nu mai mananc,nu mai dorm,apa beau,inca beau apa...Dar restu' sunt asa,de umplutura...Ai zice ca sunt nebuna,dar nu.E superb...ma gandesc noaptea la atatea lucruri si cand in final adorm,adorm cu zambetul pe buze...E superb.Pana si certurile alea mici imi plac,ma intriga,inca nu am experimentat dar mai e timp..Timpul..Acest Timp care trece asa de greu atunci cand astepti,dar e atat de superba clipa pe care ai asteptat-o atunci cand o atingi si o traiesti.Sunt chiar fericita si daca nu as mai avea matematica saptamana asta as fi si mai fericita:x...Dar ce conteaza?Va iubesc ma,pe toti&gt;:D&lt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&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/1110655920772142130-386485091048541615?l=niciuncuvant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/feeds/386485091048541615/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1110655920772142130&amp;postID=386485091048541615' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/386485091048541615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1110655920772142130/posts/default/386485091048541615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niciuncuvant.blogspot.com/2009/09/d-nat-king-cole-l.html' title='Pam Pam :x'/><author><name>Bianca.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10122162218583788224</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5ypJa8ZADw0/SqaaGmeOs8I/AAAAAAAAALY/W6nhJVu1I3o/S220/Arta+008+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
