<?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-35038571</id><updated>2012-01-18T11:33:55.185-08:00</updated><category term='psihoza'/><category term='poezie'/><category term='de suflet'/><category term='vis'/><category term='amintiri'/><category term='ganduri'/><category term='dans sportiv'/><title type='text'>The JukeBox</title><subtitle type='html'>Drepturile asupra imaginilor afisate apartin autorului!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-5145520577433336040</id><published>2010-11-24T15:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T16:03:00.005-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insomnie</title><content type='html'>Sunt trista. :(&lt;br /&gt;In seara asta am reusit fara sa vreau sa ranesc un prieten. N-ar trebui sa am capacitatea asta... E nedrept...Nu avem nici un efect asupra acelor oameni care nu dau doi bani pe noi, care ne trateaza cu dispret,  ne neaga orice merit si ne fac sa ne simtim nesemnificativi, dar reusim cu brio sa ranim acele persoane care au avut curajul sa ne pretuiasca sa, sa ne trateze cu respect si sa ne faca loc in viata lor. &lt;br /&gt;Uneori mi se pare ca totul e deandoaselea. Incerc, fara sa reusesc sa ma vindec de egoism  dar il descopar sub noi forme pe unde ma astept mai putin si ma intreb daca nu cumva, egoismul e ceva ce face parte din noi.&lt;br /&gt;Lucrurile care pareau atat de simple candva, se dovedesc astazi a fi complicate, prea complicate ca sa sper ca voi ajunge sa le inteleg vreodata. Cum poate viata sa fie deopotriva simpla si complicata!?&lt;br /&gt;Nimeni nu vrea sa fie singur. Toata lumea viseaza sa-si gaseasca "jumatatea" si fiecare dezvolta pe parcursul anilor o adevarata strategie complicata de a-l atrage si mai apoi a-l subjuga pe celalalt, prin actiuni elaborate si obositoare si-apoi ce!? Ce, huh!?&lt;br /&gt; Ii vezi prin parc cu copilul cu fetele incremenite intr-o blazare evidenta. El, plictisit si fara chef, se intreaba unde o sa vada meciul diseara. Acasa nu se poate, ar trebui sa se bucure pe "mute" la golurile echipei preferate ca "Doarme ala micu', tampitule nu mai urla asa!". Ea obosita si cu cearcane purtand primul tricou pe care a pus mana cand a deschis dulapul, curat ce-i drept dar cam vechiut. Deh, eleganta nu mai e de mult o prioritate , acum trebuie sa se gandeasca la facturi , la plata gradinitei si la ce-o sa gateasca maine.&lt;br /&gt;- Vladut, nu baga nisip in gura! Ma, tu nu vezi ce face fi-tu, te uiti dupa fufe, ai!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apai si daca nu-i vezi in parc la amiaza ii auzi din pat duminica dimineata pe la  sase asa ! Vecina mea de palier voia, probabil, sa stie tot blocul ce inseamna ospitalitaea la romani, mai ales cand vine vorba de propriul consort...&lt;br /&gt;-Fir-ai al dracu' de betiv! La ora asta se vine? Esti un nenorocit ordinar! Ti-am spalat chilotii din cur si tie si lu' ma-ta si tu umblii cu toti betivii tai pana la ziua!&lt;br /&gt;-Taci fa ca ma doare capul!&lt;br /&gt;...si schimbul de amabilitati a continuat o jumatate de ora pana au ragusit protagonistii dar cu ocazia asta mi-a fugit si mie somnul...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iti zici ca nah, se mai intampla, in cuplu mai exista si certuri si iesi pe inserat la o plimbare cu cainele printre blocuri. Te uiti la geamuri si incerci sa ghicesti cum e viata dincolo de perdeaua albastra sau ce sarbatoresc cei de la parter printr-ale caror ferestre, larg deschise, se-aude o manea saltareata si o declaratie de dragoste:&lt;br /&gt;-Fa tampito, ti-am zis sa n-o inviti pe sor-ta ca o dau afara?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simti cum ti se ridica parul pe ceafa , treci mai departe si-ti spui ca poate e ceva in aer. Vezi mai apoi pe alee doi tineri plimbandu-se de mana. Sunt ocupati sa-si povesteasca nu-stiu-ce. N-aud, nu vad in jurul lor... Nu exista decat ei ...ei si masina care a franat cand aiuritii au dat sa traverseze , prea ocupati sa se mai asigure. Noroc ca macar soferul era atent! &lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu daca sa ma bucur pentru ei sau sa-i compatimesc. O.K. , acum dar peste zece ani !? Nu pot sa nu ma intreb ce se va alege de ei. Nu vezi prea multe cupluri ajunse la maturitate intr-o stare de satisfactie decenta. Sunt prea putini si am descoperit adesea probleme si-acolo unde jurai ca totul merge bine privind din afara. &lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu ce e mai rau : singuratatea sau viata in doi atunci cand fluturasii din stomac se vor fi transformat de mult in molii!? O.K. , magia de inceput moare curand, apare monotonia si daca esti cu adevarat  norocos nu faci cunostinta si cu egoismul a doi adversari care formeaza un cuplu . &lt;br /&gt;Cum se transforma visul de la inceput in cosmarul de dupa? Ce garantie ai ca tie n-o sa ti se intample, tu, n-ai sa ajungi niciodata acolo , atunci cand viata ti-a demonstrat  prea des ca "niciodata" este un cuvant dar este in acelasi timp si propriul sau contra-argument!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-5145520577433336040?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/5145520577433336040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=5145520577433336040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/5145520577433336040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/5145520577433336040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2010/11/insomnie.html' title='Insomnie'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-4742749314285258960</id><published>2010-09-07T13:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T13:37:54.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If a group of beings from another planet were to land on Earth - beings who considered themselves as superior to you as you feel yourself to be to other animals - would you concede them the rights over you that you assume over other animals?&lt;br /&gt; ~Attributed to George Bernard Shaw&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-4742749314285258960?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/4742749314285258960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=4742749314285258960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/4742749314285258960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/4742749314285258960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2010/09/if-group-of-beings-from-another-planet.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-533614271230316781</id><published>2010-09-02T05:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T05:11:14.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Curajul</title><content type='html'>Courage is not the towering oak that sees storms come and go; it is the fragile blossom that opens in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alice M. Swaim&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-533614271230316781?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/533614271230316781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=533614271230316781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/533614271230316781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/533614271230316781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2010/09/curajul.html' title='Curajul'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-1090228070807994382</id><published>2010-08-31T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T23:58:36.064-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amintiri'/><title type='text'>De mortuis nil nisi bene!</title><content type='html'>Stii, am trecut din nou saptamana trecuta pe acolo… Ulitele pareau mai mici si mai strambe, casele mai prafuite si mai neingrijite ca niciodata. Vopseaua decolorata de soare se cojeste de pe garduri care stau sa cada. Am numarat multe bancute goale pe la porti anul asta … si  nu m-a mai intrebat chiar nimeni “Mona , tu esti?” , desi, am mers incet pana am ajuns la poarta.&lt;br /&gt;Oare mai creste Izma pe vechiul loc? Parca n-am mai baut ceai de Menta de-o vesnicie dar inca-i mai simt gustul aromat in cerul gurii.&lt;br /&gt;Mai stii cum trageai de mine dimineata sa ma trezesc si vechiul pieptene din aluminu cu dintii strambi, il mai stii? Dar gentuta mea rosie lacuita in care imi indesai biscuiti si halva ?&lt;br /&gt;Inca imi mai amintesc mirosul din odaie. Un amestec de lemn vechi,  cuverturi de lana si zambile proaspete. Nici oglinda mare cu margini dantelate, in care prinsesei vederi colorate primite de la rude indepartate, n-am uitat-o. Doamne ce-mi placeau ! Le tineai sus, la loc de cinste si te mandreai cu ele de cate ori venea cineva in vizita. Poate de aceea , cand am invatat sa scriu, ti-am trimis cate una in fiecare an desi, nu citeai prea bine. Mi te inchipuiam punandu-ti  vechii ochelari, legati cu elastic grosolan, privindu-le oricand te ajungea dorul.&lt;br /&gt;Oare ti-a fost greu cand am plecat la scoala, la oras? Cum ai indurat urletul viforului in serile de iarna cand eu n-am mai fost acolo sa te cicalesc cu intrebari stupide in timp ce invarteai cu vatraiul in soba?&lt;br /&gt;“Sa nu pui mana ca arde!”, imi spuneai de fiecare data desi nu mai era de mult nevoie.&lt;br /&gt;N-aveam decat o jucarie si cateva sticlute goale de parfum ieftin, un urs de plus, Mos Martin… Nu te-am intrebat niciodata , de unde ai scos numele asta? Am crezut multa vreme ca pe toti ursii ii cheama Martin si ca toti sunt batrani. Aaaaa si mai aveam un soarece galben de plastic, cu o ureche rupta pe care il chema Kunta Kinte si se supara de fiecare data cand nu eram cuminte )). Asa il botezase un vecin, dupa un personaj dintr-un film, desi tu nu aveai televizor pe atunci... Nu-mi amintesc sa ma fi deranjat prea tare lucrul asta,pe vremea aia aveam treburi mult mai importante de facut . Imi placea cand mergeam amandoua in sat, pe la femeile tinere care te chemau sa le ajuti la framantat colaci pentru pomeni si la fiert arpacas. Erai un fel de autoritate recunoscuta in domeniul prescurilor si marturiilor si stiai toate obiceiurile de nunti , botezuri si ingropaciune. Nici popa nu le stia pe toate! De altfel, cum ar fi putut? N-avea atatea primaveri in spate , si nici toiag de om intelept ca al matale. Uneori ti-l furam si te imitam prin curte. Zambeai, nu cred ca te-am vazut vreodata razand (ma intreb daca stiai). Era vechi dintr-un lemn rezistent, lacuit si sculptat cu modele care nu se mai distingeau bine din cauza vremii. Ma gandeam ca intr-o zi, cand o sa ma fac mare, o sa-ti cumpar unul nou si stralucitor, poate chiar de aur ca sa nu mai aiba nimeni in sat ca al matale!&lt;br /&gt;Eram foarte mandra de tine! Tu, cred ca erai un pic jenata cand ma apuca bataitul in biserica in timp ce popa si dascalul isi vedeau de Sfestanie. Nu imi ziceai tu de cate ori auzeai muzica sa “joc” ? Cu ce era cantarea popii diferita? &lt;br /&gt;Cand ma duceai la gradinita pe bicicleta ma simteam ca si Kate Winslet la prora Titanicului. Imi inspirai atata incredere incat credeam la un moment dat ca esti a-tot-puternica. Nu cred ca m-am mai simtit vreodata atat de iubita si de in siguranta ca atunci.&lt;br /&gt;Nu mi-a dat niciodata prin cap la vremea aia ca intr-o zi, ai putea sa mori… Chiar, cum ai putut sa-mi faci una ca asta?&lt;br /&gt; Nu, inca nu te-am uitat. Ma mai gandesc din cand in cand la tine. Ma intreb daca tu te gandesti uneori la mine si de te uiti arar de-acolo sus daca ma cauti mult… Oare ma mai cunosti? M-am schimbat mult desi lectiile le invat tot greu, ma poticnesc adesea de orisice obstacol, inca ma ratacesc , probleme cu orientarea… &lt;br /&gt;Unele lucruri raman neschimbate  , dar tu nu m-ai crescut sa fiu slaba si pentru asta trebuie sa-ti multumesc! Odihneste-te in pace!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-1090228070807994382?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/1090228070807994382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=1090228070807994382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1090228070807994382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1090228070807994382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2010/08/la-taifas-cu-strabunica.html' title='De mortuis nil nisi bene!'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-2197679989951206819</id><published>2009-05-26T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T12:56:18.566-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vis'/><title type='text'>Visul</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1eQ4PiiqI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/VDxkm0I-wAo/s1600/fisier06453.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/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1eQ4PiiqI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/VDxkm0I-wAo/s320/fisier06453.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511665163039836834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intr-o zi, se trezi din senin zburand peste o mare violet ce se pierdea intr-un orizont rosiatic, fara umbra de nor si...fara soare... Pesemne, cumatrul, isi odihnea stralucirea pe nisipul fin, printre corali, stand la taifas cu blondele ondine cu zambete cuminti... &lt;br /&gt;Intr-o zi, sau poate ca era o noapte, zbura peste o mare fara valuri si ...fara margini. Zbura pe deasupra undelor ca si cand era vant sau poate...doar gandul vantului. E tot una! &lt;br /&gt;Era liniste si se gandea ca , in sfarsit, e acasa! &lt;br /&gt;N-a uitat niciodata zborul acela liber deasupra unei mari fara valuri si fara margini pe care incerca sa o cuprinda si sa o contina ...ca si cand era vant, caci vant si era! &lt;br /&gt;Un vant care mangaia oglindirea apei lasand-o neteda si tacuta, un vant bland, ca si cum era gand...caci gand si era! &lt;br /&gt;De atunci, in fiecare noapte cand inchide ochii, spera sa se intoarca acasa.Deschide fiecare poarta cu emotie, sperand ca se va deschide spre un cer rosiatic, fara soare...doar cu o mare violet... &lt;br /&gt;Hotarat lucru, n-are noroc! Portile se deschid de cele mai multe ori spre lumi bantuite de umbre, inchipuiri ciudate care se hranesc cu insasi teama ei de a nu se mai intoarce niciodata acasa. Monstri care ii ghicesc gandurile dinainte chiar sa incolteasca si ca un facut, incuietorile sunt de fiecare data defecte iar ea realizeaza cu amaraciune ca nu i-ar folosi la nimic oricum, caci umbrele se dilata si se scurg prin crapaturile usii, prin gaura cheii ori pe sub prag si-atunci ( ce poate sa faca altceva decat sa fuga!? ), fuge insa indiferent cat de tare fuge ori sub ce piatra se ascunde, le poate simti rasuflarea rece pe umar, ca si cand ar fi lipite de ceafa ei!!! &lt;br /&gt;Intr-un tarziu, epuizata si incoltita, isi ia inima in dinti si se opreste sa-i infrunte. Ce n-a incercat!? Descantece, blesteme, rugaciuni, sabii si scututi...pe toate le-a incercat!!! Balaurul pur si simplu nu moare...si nici Sf. Gheorghe nu se vede pe nicaieri... &lt;br /&gt;Sleita de puteri si resemnata parca, renunta! Nu mai fuge si nici nu se mai apara! Inchide ochii si-asteapta ingrozita lovitura fatala ce v-a sa o rapuna si va pune capat la tot si la toate. Asteapta sfarsitul oricare ar fi el incercand sa ghiceasca momentul dar...Dar nu se mai intampal nimic!!!! &lt;br /&gt;Se trezeste!!! Scapa de monstri si de portile dupa care se ascund dar realizeaza cu tristete ca odata cu ei dispare si speranta de a se mai intoarce vreodata acasa...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-2197679989951206819?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/2197679989951206819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=2197679989951206819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/2197679989951206819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/2197679989951206819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2009/05/visul.html' title='Visul'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1eQ4PiiqI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/VDxkm0I-wAo/s72-c/fisier06453.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-1554846400065990837</id><published>2009-04-04T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T00:13:13.131-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ganduri'/><title type='text'>M-am mai gandit</title><content type='html'>Mai m-am gandit, cum zice amica noastra Fulga de pe cutia de lapte pe care nu l-am baut azi dimineata... Mai m-am gandit ca ar fi cazul sa mai pun mana sa scriu si eu cate ceva. Buuuuuun! &lt;br /&gt;   Am luat un pix si o coala alba de hartie si am lasat pixul sa scrie ce vrea (vezi doamne sa nu-i inhib avantul creator). &lt;br /&gt;Hotarat lucru, pixul acesta nu prea are inspiratie si-asa ca eu fumez in timp ce astept sa-i vina ideea aia stralucita, si ma gandesc fara sa fiu deloc convinsa, ca se vor scumpi tigarile iar eu, ma voi lasa de fumat! &lt;br /&gt;   Pixul scrie. Scrie urat, scrie repede, aluneca pe coala de hartie lasand in urma lui randuri fara nici un continut, care nu spun nimic, afara poate de faptul ca cel care il tine este un om dezordonat, care nu a luat niciodata note mari la caligrafie... N-a luat niciodata note mari nici la altceva, de fapt...singurul lucru la care a excelat dintotdeauna a fost "mediocritatea". &lt;br /&gt;   Cum pixul refuza sa vina cu o idee salvatoare care sa scuteasca aceasta coala (care a trait candva intr-un copac dintr-o padure care azi nu mai exista), de un sfarsit inutil si lipsit de orice valoare, ma gandesc la un hint primit cu cateva zile in urma intr-o carciuma proasta din cartier, de la o prietena :"Scrie despre mine! Adica ce, eu nu merit!?" &lt;br /&gt;Ba meriti, Dana draga, cum nu!? Cati oameni se pot lauda ca fac parte din viata mea , practic dintotdeauna!? Uneori chiar ma intreb daca este pura intamplare sau vreo datorie karmica nebanuita din alta viata... &lt;br /&gt;   Iti mai aduci aminte cum ne jucam de-a zanele in fata blocului, dar cand chiuleam de la scoala ca sa fumam in parc, mai stii!? Copacul nostru si escapadele "in oras"  undercover...vremurile in care aveam atata timp liber incat ne permiteam sa aruncam cu el in stanga si-n dreapta si sa-l cheltuim pe tot felul de planuri despre care stiam ca nu vor deveni nicicand reale... &lt;br /&gt;   Ma simt uneori de parca am facut atunci risipa si acum, nu-mi mai ajunge timpul. Pacat ca nu pot sa pun "Piua!" Ma oboseste teribil aceasta goana nebuna, aceasta graba pe care nu o inteleg, a vietii... &lt;br /&gt;Poate ca ar trebui sa-mi fac si eu o lista de-aia ca a ta, poate daca as avea impresia ca am un scop mi-ar fi mai usor. Fireste, "sporturile extreme" cum ar fi parasutarea deasupra marii sau vizita in cartierul Ferentari, n-ar avea ce cauta pe lista mea. Inca imi place sa mai las impresia ca sunt in toate mintile..Nu ca tu n-ai fi desi, uneori nu bag mana in foc nici pentru tine . :)) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   M-ai m-am gandit! Se pare ca pixul acesta nu stie sa scrie! E prea tanar! Am sa caut altul inainte sa fac lista cu cele 10 lucruri pe care vreau sa le fac in viata. &lt;br /&gt;Sunt convinsa ca daca m-as apuca acum, lista mea ar ramane doar o coala alba. Goala! &lt;br /&gt;Am sa o impaturesc totusi si am sa o port cu mine pana cand am sa gasesc un pix care sa fie in stare sa scrie toate lucrurile alea minunate  care ar putea sa fie asternute pe o coala de hartie!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-1554846400065990837?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/1554846400065990837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=1554846400065990837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1554846400065990837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1554846400065990837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2009/04/m-am-mai-gandit.html' title='M-am mai gandit'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-3572730830370607661</id><published>2008-11-01T01:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T12:01:58.251-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='psihoza'/><title type='text'>Metamorfoza</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1RjDBmRoI/AAAAAAAAAEA/XOvEr4g62Oc/s1600/opozitie+de+toamna.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1RjDBmRoI/AAAAAAAAAEA/XOvEr4g62Oc/s320/opozitie+de+toamna.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511651181520635522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi simt capul greu de parca e plin dintr-odata cu pietre de rau albe si reci ... reci si albe ca oglindirea lunii peste zapada banchizelor polare. E iarna... e vremea lupilor si-a vantului turbat ce urla slobod prin cotloane intunecoase in cautarea propriului ecou... &lt;br /&gt;   Sub tample , tumult de cascade, gonesc haotic ganduri si fulgere iar capul, capul mi-e tot mai greu si ma doare de parca sta sa crape intocmai ca un bostan pe care nu il mai incape coaja... sau poate...poate sunt de vina ochii... &lt;br /&gt; Ah, ochii astia! De nu m-ar arde ca taciunii aprinsi in vatra poate as plange, dar mi-e teama . Mi-e teama ca in loc de lacrimi , din ochi au sa-mi tasneasca limbi de flacari rosietice ce-au  sa ma cuprinda si-or sa ma mistuie intr-un moment de uitare de sine, mai iute decat o combustie spontana si-atuncea...tac…. Tac si-mi strang pumnii pana-mi simt unghiile in carnea palmelor si ascult cum imi cresc intre omoplati aripi negre de pucioasa, ce se arcuiesc si se intind cu o vointa proprie ca dupa un somn prea lung, mai lung decat toata era glaciara. &lt;br /&gt;"Turbez!" imi spun in gand cu dintii inclestati simtind cum din interior spre afara, in cap, imi creste un gard de sarma ghimpata. &lt;br /&gt;Imi vine sa urlu si URLU!... in sinea mea, stiind ca pot opri oricand toate astea dar ca nu, nu o voi face… &lt;br /&gt; Mi-am privit propria reflexie in sticla geamului  si-aproape ca nu m-am recunoscut purtand in coltul buzelor acel zambet perfid si arogant . &lt;br /&gt; "Scumpa Nemesis! Esti tu oare cea care ma bantuie sau.... sunt eu care te bantui pe tine si-ti tulbur somnul etern in inchipuitul Olimp!?” &lt;br /&gt;Ah, parca am un bolovan in loc de cap, poate chiar un munte intreg, si in gura maracini si fiere! &lt;br /&gt;"NU!!! N-am sa pun capat!"Privesc piezis prin fereastra spre cer. “N-ai ce sa-mi faci! Iti cunosc slabiciunea , sunt EU si stiu cum sa te lovesc lovind in mine cu pumnul dispretului! N-ai ce sa-mi faci dar eu am sa te vanez in fiecare zi pana la sfarsit si-ai sa mori in fiecare zi odata cu mine”. &lt;br /&gt;Ma zguduie rasul sau plansul … nu mai cunosc diferenta, e vreuna? Mi-e greata si-mi simt stomacul o cloaca de serpi , cobre si vipere cu corn …puzderie …”La dracu’! O sa am nevoie de un erpetolog pentru ceremonia de exorcizare.” &lt;br /&gt;Ma cutremur de scarba.Sunt epuizata… &lt;br /&gt;-          Va simtiti bine? &lt;br /&gt;Brusc aterizez ca picata din luna! &lt;br /&gt;-          Mai doriti ceva, ma intreba chelnarita cu o privire curioasa. &lt;br /&gt;-          Aaaaaaa……nu….aaaa, nu multumesc. Nota va rog   si….un pahar cu apa daca se poate. &lt;br /&gt;Vazand ca se indeparteaza scotocii prin geanta fastacita tragand cu coada ochiului in geamul ferestrei, “Arat ca dracu’!” mi-am spus reusind sa gasesc intr-un final prin multimea de lucruri marunte portofelul. &lt;br /&gt;-          Nota dumneavostra si…apa. &lt;br /&gt;-          Multumesc, poftim banii si pastrati restul , zic eu ridicandu-ma grabita sa ies cat mai repede. M-am rasucit pe calcaie cu haina pe jumatate imbracata si cand ma credeam scapata si mai aveam doi pasi pana la usa o aud in spatele meu : &lt;br /&gt;-          Stati! V-ati uitat pastilele… &lt;br /&gt;Ma uit la ea mirata cum imi intinde flaconul alb, zambesc stangaci. &lt;br /&gt;-Aaaa…nu sunt ale mele. Erau pe masa, am mintit cu nerusinare si-am iesit. &lt;br /&gt;Afara. Aer rece. Noapte, cer, stele… &lt;br /&gt;  “Nu spui nimic!?! Oricum tu nu spui si nu faci niciodata nimic. Nu stiu de ce ma mai obosesc… Ma intreb daca nu cumva rolurile sunt exact pe dos…Cine a cui inventie o fi? Offf nu stiu de ce imi bat capul cu tine…nu stiu de ce imi bat capul in general...”   &lt;br /&gt;Mergeam cu pasi repezi stiind ca nu am nici un motiv ca sa ma grabesc. Desi tarziu, pe strada inca mai colcaiau destui oameni intr-un dute-vino de-a dreptul enervant. &lt;br /&gt;Unul care abea reusea sa se mai tina pe picioare, rezemat cu o mana de   grilajul unei vitrine imi striga cand trec pe langa el : &lt;br /&gt;-          Ia zi piesa, te fac o cafea? &lt;br /&gt;“Piesa e ma-ta! ii raspund in gand fara sa intorc capul, Du-te dracu!” &lt;br /&gt;Ce ipocrita sunt! Niciodata nu vorbesc asa decat in gand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.01.2008&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-3572730830370607661?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/3572730830370607661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=3572730830370607661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/3572730830370607661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/3572730830370607661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2008/11/metamorfoza.html' title='Metamorfoza'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1RjDBmRoI/AAAAAAAAAEA/XOvEr4g62Oc/s72-c/opozitie+de+toamna.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-6925779538160879142</id><published>2008-03-09T06:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T11:52:23.339-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dans sportiv'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Po1VHE7kI/AAAAAAAAACo/uMuArkaQRx4/s1600-h/IMG_5907111.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Po1VHE7kI/AAAAAAAAACo/uMuArkaQRx4/s320/IMG_5907111.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175736399676370498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-6925779538160879142?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/6925779538160879142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=6925779538160879142' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6925779538160879142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6925779538160879142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post_3548.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Po1VHE7kI/AAAAAAAAACo/uMuArkaQRx4/s72-c/IMG_5907111.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-1090259297132629707</id><published>2008-03-09T06:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T11:52:51.869-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dans sportiv'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Pof1HE7jI/AAAAAAAAACg/DRm-kCA4CrI/s1600-h/IMG_588311.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Pof1HE7jI/AAAAAAAAACg/DRm-kCA4CrI/s320/IMG_588311.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175736030309183026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-1090259297132629707?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/1090259297132629707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=1090259297132629707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1090259297132629707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1090259297132629707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post_8278.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Pof1HE7jI/AAAAAAAAACg/DRm-kCA4CrI/s72-c/IMG_588311.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-7610339977129665444</id><published>2008-03-09T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T06:37:39.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PoG1HE7iI/AAAAAAAAACY/0M5czUWBQ8c/s1600-h/IMG_584711.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PoG1HE7iI/AAAAAAAAACY/0M5czUWBQ8c/s320/IMG_584711.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175735600812453410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-7610339977129665444?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/7610339977129665444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=7610339977129665444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/7610339977129665444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/7610339977129665444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post_8334.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PoG1HE7iI/AAAAAAAAACY/0M5czUWBQ8c/s72-c/IMG_584711.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-8752776344285667377</id><published>2008-03-09T06:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T06:36:04.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PnuFHE7hI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0HqxyZNB_Ww/s1600-h/Picture+163.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PnuFHE7hI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0HqxyZNB_Ww/s320/Picture+163.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175735175610691090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-8752776344285667377?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/8752776344285667377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=8752776344285667377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/8752776344285667377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/8752776344285667377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post_7816.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PnuFHE7hI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0HqxyZNB_Ww/s72-c/Picture+163.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-3679618371725762453</id><published>2008-03-09T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T06:34:22.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PnUVHE7gI/AAAAAAAAACI/sgzUtkuEAvQ/s1600-h/neamtu+si+tymeea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PnUVHE7gI/AAAAAAAAACI/sgzUtkuEAvQ/s320/neamtu+si+tymeea.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175734733229059586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-3679618371725762453?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/3679618371725762453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=3679618371725762453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/3679618371725762453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/3679618371725762453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post_9863.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PnUVHE7gI/AAAAAAAAACI/sgzUtkuEAvQ/s72-c/neamtu+si+tymeea.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-1579714903339243757</id><published>2008-03-09T06:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T06:32:55.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Pm-lHE7fI/AAAAAAAAACA/d3lcp5AQAcU/s1600-h/octav+si+....jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Pm-lHE7fI/AAAAAAAAACA/d3lcp5AQAcU/s320/octav+si+....jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175734359566904818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-1579714903339243757?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/1579714903339243757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=1579714903339243757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1579714903339243757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1579714903339243757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post_5207.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Pm-lHE7fI/AAAAAAAAACA/d3lcp5AQAcU/s72-c/octav+si+....jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-379273272288969034</id><published>2008-03-09T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T06:31:18.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Pmm1HE7eI/AAAAAAAAAB4/_0mRM1EmFw8/s1600-h/Picture+2201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Pmm1HE7eI/AAAAAAAAAB4/_0mRM1EmFw8/s320/Picture+2201.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175733951545011682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-379273272288969034?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/379273272288969034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=379273272288969034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/379273272288969034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/379273272288969034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post_09.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9Pmm1HE7eI/AAAAAAAAAB4/_0mRM1EmFw8/s72-c/Picture+2201.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-2354590841044077782</id><published>2008-03-09T05:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T05:55:48.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PeRlHE7XI/AAAAAAAAABA/zhRzs4yKKBk/s1600-h/Picture+0961.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PeRlHE7XI/AAAAAAAAABA/zhRzs4yKKBk/s320/Picture+0961.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175724790379769202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-2354590841044077782?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/2354590841044077782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=2354590841044077782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/2354590841044077782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/2354590841044077782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/R9PeRlHE7XI/AAAAAAAAABA/zhRzs4yKKBk/s72-c/Picture+0961.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-4044122005054326051</id><published>2008-01-06T03:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T12:03:58.305-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='de suflet'/><title type='text'>Me against the world</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1SFHNmC0I/AAAAAAAAAEI/pzRh--ecyXo/s1600/fisier06692.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1SFHNmC0I/AAAAAAAAAEI/pzRh--ecyXo/s320/fisier06692.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511651766760246082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-am aprins o tigara, am tras mai aproape cana cu vin fiert si m-am asezat la calculator. &lt;br /&gt;Azi am chef sa scriu. De ce azi? Nu stiu, poate din cauza ca am inspiratie, poate pentru ca simt ca dau pe dinafara sau poate din cauza discutiei pe care am avut-o cu o prietena la o cafea, in cautarea de explicatii pentru lucruri care nu au nici o explicatie... &lt;br /&gt;Despre ce o sa scriu? Despre orice si despre nimic in acelasi timp. Da...este din nou un monolog din acela lung la sfarsitul caruia nu o sa ajung la nici o concluzie, despre adevarurile absolut relative din viata unui om. Desigur,  dat fiind ca nu am trait decat in pielea unui om, adica a mea, aceste adevaruri nu sunt general valabile ci se vor raporta strict la persoana mea, asa ca orice asemanare cu un caz real sau cu persoane reale nu este pur intamplatoare. :)) &lt;br /&gt;Daca sunteti o persoana fericita, implinita si impacata cu sine insasi am sa va scutesc de pierderea de vreme care ar putea surveni in urma parcurgerii acestor catorva randuri pe care nu vi le recomand. &lt;br /&gt;Daca insa faceti parte din acea categorie de oameni pentru care fiecare zi e doar un alt episod din categoria "Me against the world", una in genul acelor persoane aflate intr-o permanenta cautare de sine si in cautarea unor raspunsuri valabile uneori doar pentru o zi, alte ori nici macar atat, o persoana cu mintea tulbure si cu sufletul albastru, ei bine, daca sunteti una dintre aceste persoane sa stiti ca nici atunci nu va recomand sa cititi aceste absurditati al carui simplu si sigur efect este acela de a ridica intrebari in mintile voastre deja obosite si roase de indoieli si de regrete dobandite in urma propriilor voastre alegeri. &lt;br /&gt; Am spus "alegeri proprii"? :) Ma rog, e un fel de a spune. Nu cred in liberul arbitru. Alegerile noastre sunt intotdeauna constranse intr-o oarecare masura de lucruri din exteriorul nostru...Dar asta e alta poveste si Seherezada saraca...de mult e oale si ulcele :) . &lt;br /&gt;Asadar daca totusi v-ati incapatanat, contrar indicatiilor mele de a nu o face, din curiozitate poate sau din lipsa de preocupare, sa facem o scurta si tenebroasa plimbare prin lumea mea (oh, da...am asa ceva, I'm a Drama Queen si deci imi permit o lume proprie si personala). &lt;br /&gt; As vrea sa pot spune ca n-am fost intotdeauna asa dar v-as minti si n-ar fi frumos sa ma apuc sa vand gogosi expirate...oricum nu prea ma pricep la comert...ce dealtfel la cele mai multe lucruri :D.  Adevarul e ca ... ce dracu' e ala adevar? Poate sa-mi spuna cineva? Ma rog...asa vine vorba... Adevarul este ca nu ma pot uita intr-o oglinda fara sa ma gandesc ca ridurile din jurul ochilor mei si firele albe pe care le tot ascund sub o vopsea de par ieftina, niciodata aceeasi (pt. ca niciodata nu m-am obosit sa tin minte cu ce m-am vopsit ultima oara), ei bine, lucrurile acestea nu sunt decat niste efecte intarziate ale faptului ca m-am nascut deja batrana, "Un copil care face mutrite serioase si care se incrunta intocmai unui om mare." Este o descriere facuta acum muuuulti ani de un prieten care ma cunostea...sau cel putin asa credea. Curios lucru este ca nu ridurile sau firele albe ma supara cel mai tare ci...pierderea magiei...MAGIA...n-am avut niciodata destula poate ca de-aia s-a consumat atat de usor...  &lt;br /&gt;Ce este MAGIA asta o sa ma intrebati, si mai ales cum stii ca ai pierdut-o? &lt;br /&gt;MAGIA asta , dragii mei, este inocenta si naivitatea pe care o regasesti in ochii fiecarui copil, acea incredere in lumea inconjuratoare si exaltarea cu care priveste viitorul, puterea de a visa si de a invinge orice obstacol, certitudinea ca "imposibilul" este doar un cuvant din DEX nascocit de niste oameni mari, prea obositi ca sa mai incerce sa vada ce se ascunde in spatele lui...  &lt;br /&gt;Nu-mi amintesc exact cand am pierdut aceasta MAGIE, poate s-a intamplat treptat, cate putin in fiecare zi, poate nici n-as fi observat daca nu m-as fi trezit intr-o dimineata fara nici un vis... :( E trist! E cel mai trist lucru sa nu-ti mai doresti nimic, sa cauti, sa incerci sa-ti doresti ceva, sa crezi ca ai gasit dar pana seara sa iti dai seama ca de fapt nu-ti pasa prea tare de lucrul ala, nu chiar atat de tare incat sa misti un deget pentru a-l dobandi.  &lt;br /&gt;Daca e grav? Fireste ca e grav, e chiar ingrozitor ! Pierderea Magiei culmineaza cu maturizarea? Asta sa fie maturitatea? De-ar fi numai atat! As vrea sa va pot spune ca e doar atat, dar nu e!  &lt;br /&gt;Un om matur, un OM MARE e o intraga si intortochiata masinarie de neincredere, suspiciune, meschinarie. Un om mare despica firul in patru si intoarce problema pe toate partile sovaind la fiecare pas inainte pe care il face. Un om mare cauta in spatele fiecarui gest frumos venind de la un altul , un scop ascuns caci, se pare, in lumea oamenilor mari nimic nu e gratis ba chiar e ceva de neconceput sa primesti ceva fara sa ti se ceara nimic in schimb... Cum dracului am ajuns sa traiesc intr-o astfel de lume? &lt;br /&gt;Imi vreau Magia inapoi! :((((  Vreau sa pot spune si face lucruri frumoase fara sa ...vreu sa....dar nu pot, nu? Sunt un OM MARE , ce naiba!?! Hai sa fim seriosi si sa ne comportam ca atare, nu? Hai sa ne suspectam unii pe altii de tot felul de intentii ascunse, hai sa ne prefacem ca totul e bine, suntem fericiti si impliniti, sa ne luam zambetele de concurs (apropos de asta, al meu n-a fost niciodata prea bun), si sa ne mintim, "Cine ma, eu? Sunt fericit de nu-mi incap in piele! Ti s-a parut altceva? Te-ai inselat, era o figura de stil, asa era coregrafia dar altfel sunt extraordinar de OK". :)))) Doamne ce bravi mai suntem toti si ce ocupati sa ne prefacem ca suntem in grafic. &lt;br /&gt; Si presupun ca asta asteptati si de la mine, nu??????   Si daca nu vreau?!?  Daca n-am chef de jocuri de-astea de-a "cine rade mai tare" ? Ce-o sa faceti?  O sa ziceti ca sunt patetica si o sa imbracati roluri de mame si tati sfatosi care le stiu pe toate sau poate o sa ma ocoliti de frica sa nu va molipsiti. Si ce? Ar trebui sa ma sperie asta? :))) Oh, nu. Mai fica mi-e sa ma mint, stiti , as putea sa ma cred dar cum adevarul are acea ciudata insusire de iese tot timpul la iveala...ce-ar mai fi ?!? &lt;br /&gt;Si-asa ca n-o sa ma mint si n-o sa va mint nici pe voi, chiar daca asta inseamna sa las garda jos si sa recunosc ca nu, nu sunt in grafic si nu, nu sunt intotdeauna OK si uneori mai plang chiar daca nu stiu mereu de ce si alte ori am impresia ca viata mea e un film cu o regie proasta si nici macar n-am fost distribuita in rolul potrivit. N-o sa sustin ca am tot ce voiam si ca sunt acolo unde imi doresc, n-am sa ma inconjor de oameni veseli atunci cand am sa simt ca-mi fuge pamantul de sub picioare in iluzia ca prezenta lor ma va face sa ma simt mai putin singura pentru ca asta n-o sa se intample. Da, ieri am fost Ok si azi ma simt de tot rahatul iar maine o sa rad din nou , si ce? &lt;br /&gt;Asta inseamna ca sunt slaba ? Paguba in ciuperci! &lt;br /&gt; Sunt doar un om , ma scuzati daca v-am dezamagit dar simpla mea existenta presupune deja destule responsabilitati ca sa ma mai chinui sa ma ridic la asteptarile voastre si-asa ca nu vad decat doua posibilitati : fie ma placeti, fie nu! &lt;br /&gt;Oricum nici macar asta nu conteaza asa tare... M-am obisnuit sa calc in strachini, aproape ca imi place si ma mai si pricep! Probabil ca e vocatia mea secreta, nu stiu ce-o sa se intample cand am sa raman fara strachini dar am o presimtire, aceea ca o sa descopar in curand... &lt;br /&gt; Asa ca...la naiba -- mi s-a racit vinul  :D ! Da...cum spuneam, asa ca...am incalecat pe o sa si....sa mor eu daca va mint si poveste nu e chiar asa! Ma rog, acuma...intelegeti si voi ca filmul e abea pe la jumatate si inca nu se poate distinge daca e vorba de drama, horror sau SF. Oricum, n-o sa fie de dragoste, garantez! Nu ma prinde deloc si-apoi e un film cu buget redus...de unde dracului atatea emotii ?  Ar putea sa fie comedie... Cum? Nu prea pare? Uhmmm...nu va prindeti voi, e umor englezesc si de-aia. Oricum, mai e pana la THE END si daca vreti vreun rol nu ma ocup eu cu distributia, v-am mai zis, luati-va singuri! Si inca ceva...o stiti pe-aia: "and they lived happily ever after"? &lt;br /&gt;Luati-va gandul! Sunt asa rare dar...nu se stie niciodata ;) De-aicea tot suspansul! :)))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;06.01.2008&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-4044122005054326051?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/4044122005054326051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=4044122005054326051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/4044122005054326051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/4044122005054326051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2010/08/me-against-world.html' title='Me against the world'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1SFHNmC0I/AAAAAAAAAEI/pzRh--ecyXo/s72-c/fisier06692.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-7280318070627151139</id><published>2007-12-20T01:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T11:53:57.809-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poezie'/><title type='text'>Aiurea...</title><content type='html'>In cer. &lt;br /&gt;O stea sade pitita &lt;br /&gt;in spatele unui zambet inghetat &lt;br /&gt;de pe buzele infinitului. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In aer, &lt;br /&gt;O pasare isi frange aripile &lt;br /&gt;izbindu-se fara incetare &lt;br /&gt;de lespezile de piatra ale inimii mele. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pe pamant, &lt;br /&gt;O floare se ofileste &lt;br /&gt;la umbra unui vis neimplinit &lt;br /&gt;ce-o dogoreste. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mine, &lt;br /&gt;se inabuse sufletul si se naruie &lt;br /&gt;ferecat de buna voie &lt;br /&gt;in sarcofagul tacerii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. E scrisa de cel putin 7,8 ani deci sa nu va aud cu interpretari de-alea... Asa sunt eu, mai sumbra...Sa vad ce o sa mai ziceti cand o sa scot artileria grea desi...n-as vrea sa va sperii asa repede :D :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-7280318070627151139?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/7280318070627151139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=7280318070627151139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/7280318070627151139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/7280318070627151139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2010/08/aiurea.html' title='Aiurea...'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-1532832770900178343</id><published>2007-11-06T11:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T12:30:45.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1X1Nyuo2I/AAAAAAAAAEw/WFUAbd_nYuU/s1600/S5002597.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1X1Nyuo2I/AAAAAAAAAEw/WFUAbd_nYuU/s320/S5002597.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511658090718471010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As putea sa fiu multe lucruri... &lt;br /&gt;As putea sa pozez intr-o persoana sigura pe ea , o persoana care arata cu degetul si da verdicte asupra altor persoane ... &lt;br /&gt;As putea sa fiu o persoana care vorbeste putin si pastreaza  in juru-i un mister seducator si pe care toata lumea se inghesuie sa il descopere... &lt;br /&gt; As putea sa ma plimb cu nasul pe sus de colo-colo ca o diva cu o poseta ultimul ragnet pe brat,  lasand in urma o dara imbietoare de Allure de la  Chanel... &lt;br /&gt;As putea sa ma dau drept inteligenta si sa aduc intotdeauna in discutie lucrurile pe care le stiu ocolindu-le astfel pe cele pe care nu le stiu... &lt;br /&gt;As putea sa fiu importanta si sa-mi selectez prietenii in functie de popularitatea lor... &lt;br /&gt;As putea sa fiu indragostita si sa visez toata ziua cu ochii deschisi... &lt;br /&gt;As putea sa fiu amuzanta si sa scornesc tot timpul glume care sa va  faca sa radeti... &lt;br /&gt;As putea fi ascultatoare , sa n-am niciodata nici o opinie si  sa fiu total de acord cu ce cred altii... &lt;br /&gt;As putea sa fiu un monument de tristete si sa astept de la ceilalti consolarea, de parca mi-ar datora ceva... &lt;br /&gt;As putea sa fiu un om de cariera si sa-mi dedic tot timpul unui viitor inchipuit... &lt;br /&gt;As putea sa fiu delicata si pretioasa si sa am intotdeauna nevoie de ajutorul unui barbat, sa car o valiza sau sa deschid o conserva... &lt;br /&gt;As putea sa fiu...multe lucruri... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As putea.... sa fiu multe lucruri dar...Am ales sa fiu eu! &lt;br /&gt;Iar eu nu sunt niciodata sigura pe mine si ma minunez de fiecare data cand imi iese cate ceva asa cum ar trebui, sunt intotdeauna la cativa metri buni in urma modei, nu sunt o mironosita si nici prea inteligenta nu sunt de vreme ce nu ma tem sa spun orice prostie imi trece prin cap...Am prieteni de toate culorile si nu imi pasa ce cred ceilalti despre ei ... Nu sunt indragostiata si daca pare uneori ca sunt este doar pentru ca iubesc dragostea pur si simplu... Fac mari eforturi ca sa fiu amuzanta uneori dar si mai mari sunt cele pe care le fac sa ma amuz iar cand se intampla o fac de regula pe seama mea...sunt singura tinta  a micilor mele ironii. Sunt prin nastere negativista si voi avea tot timpul alta parere decat ai tu asa incat vei avea nevoie de multa rabdare si de argumentatie potrivita daca vrei sa-mi demonstrezi ca ai dreptate si ...chiar si asa...uneori n-o sa-ti foloseasca la nimic. :)) &lt;br /&gt;Nu sunt trista desi ca sa fiu n-ar trebui decat sa o recunosc insa daca cineva mi-ar datora ceva, aceea sunt eu...eu imi datorez mie sa fiu fericita...si n-am sa trec cu vederea aceasta datorie...Nu traiesc ziua de azi in contul zilelor de maine pentru ca am mai multa incredere in prezent decat in viitor si nu...nu sunt nici delicata si nici slaba! Nu am mereu nevoie de un barbat langa mine ca sa-mi aduc aminte ca sunt femeie insa atunci cand am, ar face bine sa fie acolo!  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-1532832770900178343?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/1532832770900178343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=1532832770900178343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1532832770900178343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1532832770900178343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2010/08/eu.html' title='Eu'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1X1Nyuo2I/AAAAAAAAAEw/WFUAbd_nYuU/s72-c/S5002597.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-7320531038739466473</id><published>2007-11-01T01:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T12:08:00.044-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ganduri'/><title type='text'>O umbra cu personalitate</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1TCvJDP-I/AAAAAAAAAEg/n_cNUGiVZE0/s1600/S5000745.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/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1TCvJDP-I/AAAAAAAAAEg/n_cNUGiVZE0/s320/S5000745.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511652825450627042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Timpul isi taraie zilele prin viata mea... Aceleasi zile, mereu plictisite, sapte la numar... Candva erau opt dar una s-a prapadit saraca. Pacat... era ziua mea preferata. &lt;br /&gt;Ascult linistea si simt cum se dilata spatiul astfel ca oriunde incercam sa ajung ieri, se muta azi mai departe...prea departe si-ajung de fiecare data cu aceeasi marja de intarziere : prea tarziu. &lt;br /&gt;Ma uit peste umar si o vad in coada ochiului cum ma urmareste resemnata. Ea, umbra mea, tace. E obosita pesemne , si-a consumat toata energia in repetate incercari de a se desprinde de mine. &lt;br /&gt;"Hei!, ii strigai eu, Nu ma ura mai tare decat te urasc eu pe tine!". &lt;br /&gt; Nu mi-a raspuns dar...asa e ea... Eu sunt cea care vorbeste tot timpul si ea e cea care nu spune niciodata nimic. &lt;br /&gt;Tacticoasa ascutea un creion. &lt;br /&gt;"De ce incalci regula? Stii ca tot ce trebuie sa faci e sa ma imiti pe mine! Daca ne vede cineva?!?" . Nici nu s-a sinchisit asa ca a trebuit sa ma apuc si eu de ascutit creioane... &lt;br /&gt;Si-a vazut de treaba si cum a terminat s-a apucat sa deseneze un zid intre noi, caramida cu caramida... Am zambit. "Nu-l desena prea greu, n-am sa va pot cara in spate pe-amandoi si iar o sa ne prinda iarna pe drum!". &lt;br /&gt;Am privit rabdatoare zidul ce se ridica in spatele meu si cand ultima caramida a fost asezata ,  m-am ridicat sa plec : "Ramai cu bine umbro!". &lt;br /&gt;Facui un pas si inca unul, urmara altii doi, apoi, privii in spate. Era tot acolo, la locul ei, lipita de talpile mele ... un pic botita doar, pe margini... &lt;br /&gt;Zidul -- la locul lui si el! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nu te necaji, ii spusei, data viitoare ai sa reusesti!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-7320531038739466473?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/7320531038739466473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=7320531038739466473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/7320531038739466473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/7320531038739466473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2010/08/o-umbra-cu-personalitate.html' title='O umbra cu personalitate'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1TCvJDP-I/AAAAAAAAAEg/n_cNUGiVZE0/s72-c/S5000745.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-3210694414538640816</id><published>2007-10-31T04:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T12:38:00.582-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ganduri'/><title type='text'>Trei jumate si inca o noapte pierduta...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1aEhB4RkI/AAAAAAAAAFA/P0vCTqcRokM/s1600/fisier00590.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 86px; height: 100px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1aEhB4RkI/AAAAAAAAAFA/P0vCTqcRokM/s320/fisier00590.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511660552603584066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu pot sa ma laud ca am invatat multe in viata asta pentru ca inca ma surprind facand aceeasi greseala inca si inca o data si apoi din nou pana la nesfarsit...  &lt;br /&gt;Am invatat insa ca daca te uiti suficient de mult si esti indeajuns de atent, poti sa cunosti un om dupa ochi...Da...in seara asta o sa vorbesc despre ochi , daca tot se spune despre ei ca sunt ferestrele sufletelor noastre atunci merita sa le dam un pic de atentie , nu? Eu asa zic. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Ochii...ei bine, ochii sunt de mai multe feluri. Boooon! Avem ochi veseli, tristi sau timizi, goi ,inteligenti, rai, timorati sau misteriosi, seducatori, linistitori sau din contra, ochi inspaimantatori. Cred ca pot sa recunosc fiecare tip in parte caci la anumite momente din viata mea i-am vazut pe toti in oglinda holbandu-se la mine. Trebuie sa spun ca lentilele de contact nu constituie nici cea mai mica piedica pentru mine, pot sa citesc in ochi ca si in palma. Ei hai, acuma nu venitzi toti la mine sa-mi testati talentele in chiromantzie! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este adevarat insa si faptul ca cel mai adesea privim in ochii persoanei din fata noastra cautandu-ne pe noi insine ci nu sufletul interlocutorului nostru, sperand sa gasim un EU mai interesant sau poate doar mai frumos ori mai fericit decat acela pe care il vedem privindu-ne din proprii ochi in oglinda... Trist nu? Ne hranim cu imaginea noastra din ochii altora si fireste ca ne plac acele persoane in ai caror ochi imaginea noastra este una multumitoare insa de regula preferam sa ne pierdem timpul incercand sa schimbam imaginea noastra defavorabila din ochii acelora care  prea putin isi doresc sa ne vada. Oare e chiar asa de important sa ne mintim? &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Azi m-am admirat  indelung intr-o pereche de ochi fara nici un fel de retinere. M-am vazut pe mine asa cum sunt , fara nici o pretentie , fara nici o infloritura, fara nici o asteptare, doar eu si trebuie sa recunosc ca ma simteam destul de confortabil...eram in largul meu...prea in largul meu, inca putzin si as fi inceput sa torc ca o matza pe vatra sobei intr-o iarna friguroasa. Atunci mi-am spus : "Atentzie, nu sta prea mult ca astia dau dependentza!". :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tot azi am intalnit niste ochi in care ma vad miiiica si insignifianta dar nu erau ochi rai, asta stiu sigur caci mi-au oferit destul spatiu ca sa pot creste in timp si mai ales in incredere... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I-am revazut si pe aceia in care ma caut mereu dar nu ma regasesc niciodata, ca si cand n-as exista, ca si cand ar trece dincolo de mine...hmmm...poate ar trebui sa folosesc o oglinda ca sa-i prind in propria lor capcana sau poate... poate pur si simplu ar trebui sa ma uit in alta parte, nu? Pentru ce atata bataie de cap? Poate nici nu mi-ar place EUL meu dezgropat cu unghiile pe un iris care nici macar nu ma incape... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mai sunt si ochii aia in care nu am curajul sa ma caut...pentru ca in ei m-as vedea coplesita de o vina inchipuita poate...sau cine mai stie....ce vina in ai cui ochi mai poarta... &lt;br /&gt;Am auzit insa ca vina aduce cu ea o mutzenie oarba si-odata ce se lipeste de tine nu mai scapi de ea pana ajungi sa crezi ca asa esti tu...mereu mistuit de taceri si secrete care se hranesc cu linistea ta, cu noptile tale albe care si-au pierdut somnul odata cu inocenta ce mai ratacea uneori, rareori, ca un abur prin visele tale. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Sunt  si unii ochi in care ma simt imbracata in haine prea stralucitoare ca sa le posed....si atunci ma poseda ele pe mine...:) &lt;br /&gt;Acestia sunt ochii prietenilor mei. Dragii de ei, intotdeauna se uita la mine cu cei mai buni ochi ai lor si fireste, sunt subiectivi. &lt;br /&gt;Asa sunt prietenii , daca nu mai ai incredere in tine fac ei o cheta mica si pun mana de la mana. Pana la urma...scoti o incredere intreaga de poti  apoi  chiar s-o impuiezi ca sa ai de unde le-o da inapoi cand au nevoie...caci intotdeauna vine o zi in care au nevoie... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si mai sunt si aia ... ochii aia... Ochii in care ma doare sa ma oglindesc pentru ca descopar o EU prea naiva si increzatoare. Imaginea asta imi face greata...sper sa nu ma mai intalnesc niciodata cu mine in ochii aceia tradatori, vreau sa ma sterg definitiv si iremediabil, sa ma topesc si apoi sa ma evapor de pe aceasta retina mincinoasa si din memoria ei... Ma face sa ma rusinez de slabiciunea mea si-am sa-mi mint ochii ca n-au vazut nimic si-am sa inghetz orice ecou al ochilor aceia nerecunoscatori ce-au locuit o vreme in ochii mei...iar cand a inceput sa ploua prin acoperisul shubred, au vrut o casa noua. Normal! Reparatiile ar fi costat dublu si nu si le-ar fi permis, erau prea saraci si oricum nu era locul lor acolo... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.................................................................................................... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da...v-am zis eu ca is multe feluri de ochi si pe langa astia toti mai sunt si ochii care imi pica in gura de somn si apropos, maine sa nu va uitati in ochii mei ca n-o sa vedetzi altceva decat nisip, deh...asa-mi trebuie dak scriu prostii in loc sa dorm...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-3210694414538640816?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/3210694414538640816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=3210694414538640816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/3210694414538640816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/3210694414538640816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2004/10/trei-jumate-si-inca-o-noapte-pierduta.html' title='Trei jumate si inca o noapte pierduta...'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/TH1aEhB4RkI/AAAAAAAAAFA/P0vCTqcRokM/s72-c/fisier00590.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-6475043053930287838</id><published>2007-10-25T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T11:32:55.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Orfan de viata zici!?  (contrapoezie)</title><content type='html'>Iar te-ai impiedicat de viaţă &lt;br /&gt;Şi ţi-ai julit genunchii în angoase, &lt;br /&gt;Voiai sa cumperi fericire de la piaţă &lt;br /&gt;Dar n-aveau decat mere găunoase. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iar urli nopţile la lună &lt;br /&gt;Ca lupu-nfometat de doruri, &lt;br /&gt;Cu buzunarul gol de voie bună &lt;br /&gt;Tu te-ai născut sătul de zboruri. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Şi iar te dai lovit de soartă &lt;br /&gt;Ca valul noaptea de stabilopod, &lt;br /&gt;În ochii tăi e scris : Natură moartă &lt;br /&gt;Însă nu faci nimic, eşti prea comod! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te recomanzi : Orfan de Viaţă &lt;br /&gt;Când te-ntalnesc intâmplător in drum &lt;br /&gt;Şi permanent în compania doamnei Greaţă &lt;br /&gt;Deşi bolnav de moarte, nu faci nimic &lt;br /&gt;oricum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2005-10-28             by Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-6475043053930287838?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/6475043053930287838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=6475043053930287838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6475043053930287838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6475043053930287838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2010/08/orfan-de-viata-zici-contrapoezie.html' title='Orfan de viata zici!?  (contrapoezie)'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-3683313288122906475</id><published>2007-10-19T11:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T11:41:26.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blasfemie</title><content type='html'>De ce? &lt;br /&gt;De ce tocmai eu? &lt;br /&gt;Din milioane de suflete &lt;br /&gt;Ce asteapta tacute &lt;br /&gt;Implorand in tacere viata &lt;br /&gt;In spatele portilor unde ceata &lt;br /&gt;Le mistuie prezenta &lt;br /&gt;Si le macina inexistenta &lt;br /&gt;De ce eu? &lt;br /&gt;Te intreb si astept sa-mi raspunzi &lt;br /&gt;Cu ochii tulburati si uzi. &lt;br /&gt;De ce nu m-ai intrebat &lt;br /&gt;In lume cand m-ai aruncat &lt;br /&gt;Daca vreau sa traiesc ? &lt;br /&gt;S-ai vrea acum sa-ti multumesc... &lt;br /&gt;De ce? &lt;br /&gt;Ca mi-ai luat infinitul &lt;br /&gt;Si mi-ai limitat absolutul &lt;br /&gt;Ca mi-ai luat nefiinta &lt;br /&gt;Si m-ai lasat sa-mi aleg credinta &lt;br /&gt;Ca mi-ai daruit grijile &lt;br /&gt;Si mi-ai colorat trairile &lt;br /&gt;In nuante de sentimente &lt;br /&gt;Azi prezente &lt;br /&gt;Maine absente, &lt;br /&gt;Ca mi-ai dat aripi de ceara &lt;br /&gt;Sa-mi dobori zborul &lt;br /&gt;Ca sa-i duc dorul &lt;br /&gt;De ce? Te intreb iara, &lt;br /&gt;De ce sa-mi fie mila, &lt;br /&gt;De ce sa-mi fie sila, &lt;br /&gt;De ce sa plang eu pentru ei? &lt;br /&gt;Nu i-ai facut tu, de la mine ce vrei? &lt;br /&gt;Apara-i tu! &lt;br /&gt;Ingrijeste-i tu! &lt;br /&gt;Asculta-i! &lt;br /&gt;Ajuta-i! &lt;br /&gt;Mangaie-i si saruta-i, &lt;br /&gt;Si nu le spunne "Nu" ! &lt;br /&gt;Unde esti cand te cauta, &lt;br /&gt;Sau vii doar cand te lauda? &lt;br /&gt;Ori esti bolnav? &lt;br /&gt;Sau doar trandav? &lt;br /&gt;Daca ti-e rau cheama-ma &lt;br /&gt;Si-am sa vin sa-ti aduc o zeama &lt;br /&gt;Si-o bulina amara &lt;br /&gt;Si tot raul sa-ti dispara. &lt;br /&gt;Cum ??? &lt;br /&gt;Ti-e fica sa nu te otravesc??? &lt;br /&gt;Fiindca am spus odata c-am sa te strivesc??? &lt;br /&gt;Si ce, tu m-ai crezut? &lt;br /&gt;Eu am uitat demult. &lt;br /&gt;Nu zici nimic? &lt;br /&gt;...poate nici nu existi... &lt;br /&gt;Sau poate ai murit de necaz &lt;br /&gt;Cu lacrimi siroindu-ti pe obraz &lt;br /&gt;De sila &lt;br /&gt;Si de mila &lt;br /&gt;De nepasare si uitare &lt;br /&gt;De dor de pasari calatoare &lt;br /&gt;De necredinta ce te doare. &lt;br /&gt;Tot nimic? &lt;br /&gt;Nici un tunet &lt;br /&gt;Cu rasunet? &lt;br /&gt;Nici un fulger &lt;br /&gt;Sa ma spulberi? &lt;br /&gt;Daca nu existi sa-ti fie rusine! &lt;br /&gt;Pentru milioanele de rugi trimise catre tine &lt;br /&gt;Pentru milioaele de cuvinte care te implora &lt;br /&gt;Si pentru toate cele care te adora. &lt;br /&gt;Daca nu esti, inventeaza-te! &lt;br /&gt;Din mintile crestine intrupeaza-te! &lt;br /&gt;Revendica-ti copiii parasiti &lt;br /&gt;De griji si deziluzii coplesiti. &lt;br /&gt;De ce? &lt;br /&gt;De ce in tacere persisti? &lt;br /&gt;Tu nu ai nici un drept sa nu existi! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04 August 2005            By Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-3683313288122906475?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/3683313288122906475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=3683313288122906475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/3683313288122906475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/3683313288122906475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2007/10/blasfemie.html' title='Blasfemie'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-6981742156961768979</id><published>2007-10-17T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T11:36:01.434-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='de suflet'/><title type='text'>Cronica de minte tulbure</title><content type='html'>Uneori cred ca m-am nascut dintr-o uriasa coincidenta... &lt;br /&gt;Mama mea l-a intalnit chiar pe tatal meu. Erau si alti barbati pe lume... Cate sanse erau sa se cunoasca? Puteau sa apuce alte drumuri, erau milioane de posibilitati dar… s-au casatorit, apoi, intr-o seara, chiar in seara aia, i-a apucat cheful de amor si.... :) : ) : ). Eeeeeei ..... daca unul din ei ar fi fost deranjat de vreo migrena ....alta era situatia. N-ati mai sta voi acum sa cititi aberatiile mele dar... nu a fost asa si...uite domn'e ca exist! &lt;br /&gt;Sunt primul nascut al parintilor mei! As fi putut sa nu fiu deloc dar intamplarea a facut sa ma nasc. &lt;br /&gt;Eu!!! Trag aer in piept si spun apasat: "Eu!" . Cuvantul asta are o rezonanta prea puternica tinand cont de slabiciunea sirului de intamplari caruia i se datoreaza insasi existernta mea. Putin a lipsit sa nu fiu. N-ar fi fost o catastrofa. Lumea ar fi mers la fel de bine si fara mine :( . &lt;br /&gt;Uneori ma gandesc ca la nastere am furat dreptul la existenta atator altor persoane care ar fi putut sa fie ... ca doar vorba aia, mai erau barbati care sa vrea sa-i fie soti mamei mele sau femei care ar fi vrut sa-i fie tatei neveste...cat despre seri pentru indragostiti, sunt convinsa ca si de-astea au fost destule... &lt;br /&gt;Oare... cum ar fi fost primul nascut al parintilor mei daca nu era sa fiu eu? Ar fi fost o persoana mai buna, mai inteligenta sau poate mai frumoasa? Iar eu? Eu? As fi luat macar forma unei intrebari suparatoare noaptea tarziu la vreo betie in mintea primului nascut al mamei mele daca nu eram eu? &lt;br /&gt;Ce minune ca sunt si ce povara... Stiind acestea ma simt datoare sa fiu mai buna, mai inteligenta si mai frumoasa. Trebuie sa fiu! Altfel...cum sa ma privesc in oglinda stiind ca am vaduvit Universul de o fiinta mai buna, mai inteligenta si mai frumoasa care ar fi putut sa fie daca nu eram eu?!? &lt;br /&gt;Ce minune ca sunt domn’e si ce mai povara... &lt;br /&gt;Cand am cate o zi proasta si nimic nu-mi iese asa cum vreau, simt ca-mi vajaie capul. Doctorul zice ca-i tensiunea. Oare?  &lt;br /&gt;Hmmm, eu cred ca e frustrarea  de a fi obligata sa fiu permanent in competitie cu mine insami... &lt;br /&gt;Cand am cate o zi buna...imi spun ca sa fiu eu insami e cel mai usor si mai firesc lucru si voi n-aveti cum sa spuneti ca nu-mi iese de minune! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. - Pentru Dana fiindca stiu ca-i plac povestile mele de adormit copiii :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-6981742156961768979?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/6981742156961768979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=6981742156961768979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6981742156961768979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6981742156961768979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2007/10/cronica-de-minte-tulbure.html' title='Cronica de minte tulbure'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-7399230641091758617</id><published>2007-10-12T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T11:40:11.277-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cronica pe banca din parc</title><content type='html'>Am citit pe undeva (probabil intr-un grup al iubitorilor de animale), o intrebare pe care mi-am pus-o de multe ori si eu: &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;IMPRUMUTA ANIMALELE DE COMPANIE CEVA DIN CARACTERUL STAPANILOR LOR? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parerea mea e ca da si nu doar atat , nu stiu daca e doar in mintea mea dar fac de foarte multe ori niste asocieri fizice intre stapani si animalele lor. &lt;br /&gt; Cele mai relevante cazuri sunt acelea in care animalelel de companie sunt caini . &lt;br /&gt; Cand ies la plimbare cu monstruletzul in parc mi-am facut un obicei din a studia oamenii care bantuie dupa un program exact aleile neincapatorului parc din Crangasi, insotiti de cate unul sau mai multi caini din cele mai diverse rase ori chiar de metisi mai norocosi ce au avut sansa sa fie adoptati . De multe ori ma surprind gandind : "Doamne, ce seamana! Omul asta nici n-ar fi putut sa aiba alt caine!". &lt;br /&gt; Nu e vorba doar de atitudinea animalului aici ci chiar de asemanari fizice  de ex: tipe zvelte si tinere cu ciobanesti germani sau dalmatieni agitati in lese scurte incercand sa tina pasul cu ei, cucoane grase si rujate pana in dinti urmate la 3 metri in spate de cate un caniche de talie inalta sau poate de un cocker despre care as putea spune dupa gabaritul depasit ca sigur a fost castrat/sterilizat , batranei in baston cu teckeli linistiti care merg ascultatori la picior, baieti tineri si lucrati la sali de fitnes cu cate un rottweiler sau un pittbul solid si fioros vesnic intr-o competitie gen "care pe care?" sau pustoaice cochete plimband fie un bichon maltese fie un pekingnese imperial atasat de lesa ca un breloc pentru chei. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cu un pic de atentie poti sa-ti faci o parere despre oameni judecandu-i dupa animalelel lor si felul in care le plimba. Trebuie sa recunosc , eu una ma dau in vant dupa tipii care plimba fie un Golden Retriever fie cate un Labrador . Sunt foarte atenti la cainii lor chiar daca de regula acestora nu prea ai ce sa le reprosezi. Acesti caini , desi cu o constitutie fizica puternica sunt docili si inteligenti, blanzi, prietenosi si foarte siguri pe ei  -- ca si stapanii lor de altfel...niste "baieti buni" . ;) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu daca mai sunt si altii care fac studii de-astea ciudate in parc insa sunt curioasa cum ar parea o tipa agatzata  (efectiv ma taraste dupa el), de un pekingnese corcit (oricum o combinatie foarte reusita fara sa fiu subiectiva), care schimba directiile exact atunci cand te astepti mai putin si care se comporta ca si cand el si-a scos stapana afara...ce concluzie ai putea sa tragi despre stapana unui astfel de caine? Prea multa personalitate sau mental instability?  :)))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-7399230641091758617?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/7399230641091758617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=7399230641091758617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/7399230641091758617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/7399230641091758617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2007/10/cronica-pe-banca-din-parc.html' title='Cronica pe banca din parc'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-4455337159548851298</id><published>2007-10-05T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T11:19:34.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/RwZN2itcCOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/MmztFWrRjL4/s1600-h/moni1_1813.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/RwZN2itcCOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/MmztFWrRjL4/s320/moni1_1813.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117863625978808546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-4455337159548851298?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/4455337159548851298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=4455337159548851298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/4455337159548851298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/4455337159548851298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2007/10/me_05.html' title='me'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/RwZN2itcCOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/MmztFWrRjL4/s72-c/moni1_1813.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-6581125990846509297</id><published>2007-09-10T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T11:39:06.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cronica de divort</title><content type='html'>Spune-mi un sinonim pentru confuzie! ---si eu zic : "Viata mea! E ca si cum s-a intors pamantul cu susul in jos si marea s-a varsat in cer si tu te mai intrebi daca nu cumva asa ar fi trebuit sa fie..." &lt;br /&gt;Zicea ca ar fi trebuit sa-l iubesc macar un pic dar eu credeam ca asta fac... &lt;br /&gt;Sunt atat de multe lucruri in creierul asta mic al meu , unde dracului ai mai fi vrut sa ai loc si tu cand nu incap pe de-antregul nici eu? &lt;br /&gt;In inima zici? Inima cui, a mea?  :) &lt;br /&gt;E prea mica, nu era destul spatiu pentru nevoile tale multe si mari si ce-i mai rau este ca nici nu mai conteaza... ai gasit tu repede una mai incapatoare in care sa poti sa joci si fotbal. Ai gija insa, nu stii niciodata cum te trezesti faultat...  &lt;br /&gt;Si eu? Eu ce-ar fi trebuit sa simt, in cazul in care as fi fost catusi de putin umana? Ca ma doare? &lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm...Nu e pentru mine, am mai baut paharul asta o data ... De-atunci am renuntat la bautura, imi dadea dureri de cap si drept sa zic nici n-arat prea bine mahmura... &lt;br /&gt;Cine a gresit ? A cui e vina? &lt;br /&gt;Pe cine naiba mai intereseaza acuma?!?Cine spune ca de fiecare data trebuie sa fie vina cuiva de parca ea, vina, ar fi ceva fara de care noi oamenii nu putem trai... O vrei? Ia-o, daca nu da-mi-o mie si-asa fac colectie. Vreau sa candidez pentru titlul de Femeie Nesimtitoare ca pe cel de Oaie Neagra inca il mai pastrez la loc de cinste, in frunte adica , sa-l vada toata lumea. &lt;br /&gt;Tacere... &lt;br /&gt;-Zi-mi un sinonim pentru esec ! &lt;br /&gt;-Viata mea, zic din nou fara sa clipesc, mi-era frica sa nu-mi intre genele in ochi pesemne...As fi putut orbi si-atunci as fi vazut mai bine alte lucruri pe care nu voiam sa le stiu pentru ca deja sunt prea multe ca sa mai incapa in creierul asta mic al meu. Cred ca-ntr-o zi o sa fac dracu' o comotie cerebrala si-o sa-mi sara toate ideile afara din cap ca dintr-o neincapatoare cutie a Pandorei , ca zau ! Prea m-am lacomit sa strang multe... &lt;br /&gt;Am tacut o secunda sa-mi trag rasuflarea. Parea ca-mi sare inima din piept de indignare... &lt;br /&gt;-Bine atunci! Zi-mi un sinonim pentru maine! &lt;br /&gt;-Viata mea , zic si fara sa ma uit simitii cum se irita. &lt;br /&gt;Zambesc , ce placere draceasca! &lt;br /&gt;-Cucoana esti dusa!--imi striga psihologul privindu-ma piezis pe sub ochelari. &lt;br /&gt;Radeam in hohote in sinea mea "...de parca tu mai esti sanatos la cap!...de parca cineva pe lumea asta ar mai putea sa fie..." &lt;br /&gt;Plecai fara sa ma deranjez sa inchid usa dupa mine. &lt;br /&gt;Ce pierdere de vreme! Ce bine ca nu m-am facut psiholog! Puteam sa o iau razna domn'e! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 septembrie 2007&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-6581125990846509297?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/6581125990846509297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=6581125990846509297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6581125990846509297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6581125990846509297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2007/09/cronica-de-divort.html' title='Cronica de divort'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-6404986071907539155</id><published>2007-05-11T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T11:55:15.020-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poezie'/><title type='text'>Epidemie</title><content type='html'>Mi-au crescut in inima scorburi adanci &lt;br /&gt;Adevarate vizuini prin care... &lt;br /&gt;Misuna in legiuni gorgone furibunde : &lt;br /&gt;Angoase vechi, angoase noi &lt;br /&gt;...si alte angoase &lt;br /&gt;Am uitat numele lor,pimite in ziua botezului meu &lt;br /&gt;Nu conteaza, pot sa le strig oricum, &lt;br /&gt;Ele vor raspunde la fel &lt;br /&gt;Toate! Pana la ultima... &lt;br /&gt;Mi-e gura punga de veninul spuzeniei de serpi. &lt;br /&gt;Scuip pelin si otravesc aerul &lt;br /&gt;Oricui isi poarta propriile scorburi &lt;br /&gt;In aproapele meu. &lt;br /&gt;Simt ca ma sufoc si atunci &lt;br /&gt;Scriu pe-o bucata de luna plina: &lt;br /&gt;KEEP OUT! &lt;br /&gt;SCORBURI CONTAGIOASE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     ...by Me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11 Mai 2006&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-6404986071907539155?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/6404986071907539155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=6404986071907539155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6404986071907539155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6404986071907539155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2007/05/epidemie.html' title='Epidemie'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-1784922723277609944</id><published>2007-04-14T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T05:26:08.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/RiDILjMG5JI/AAAAAAAAAAc/KoXIaNtRpdA/s1600-h/Operatiunea+Toate+Fustele+Sus+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053258882659837074" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/RiDILjMG5JI/AAAAAAAAAAc/KoXIaNtRpdA/s320/Operatiunea+Toate+Fustele+Sus+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/RiDIEjMG5II/AAAAAAAAAAU/EOEk0cTmun0/s1600-h/Operatiunea+toate+Fustele+Sus+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053258762400752770" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/RiDIEjMG5II/AAAAAAAAAAU/EOEk0cTmun0/s320/Operatiunea+toate+Fustele+Sus+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/RiDH9TMG5HI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EBMJbwyGxVw/s1600-h/First+I+was+afraid....jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053258637846701170" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/RiDH9TMG5HI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EBMJbwyGxVw/s320/First+I+was+afraid....jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-1784922723277609944?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1784922723277609944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/1784922723277609944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NoK4xxjSTuA/RiDILjMG5JI/AAAAAAAAAAc/KoXIaNtRpdA/s72-c/Operatiunea+Toate+Fustele+Sus+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-116950759232292366</id><published>2007-01-22T15:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T15:13:12.330-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/1600/771836/fear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/320/298343/fear.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/1600/498331/golden%20eye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/320/797004/golden%20eye.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-116950759232292366?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/116950759232292366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/116950759232292366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2007/01/blog-post_116950759232292366.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-116950602058571192</id><published>2007-01-22T14:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T14:47:00.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/1600/752557/the%20gost.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/320/762861/the%20gost.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/1600/544559/Kids.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/320/38404/Kids.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/1600/936754/Wish%20I%20was%20older.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/320/942537/Wish%20I%20was%20older.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/1600/401386/Nu%20e%21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/320/89684/Nu%20e%21.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/1600/458476/Uite-o%21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/320/915283/Uite-o%21.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-116950602058571192?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/116950602058571192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/116950602058571192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2007/01/blog-post_116950602058571192.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-116950532088111486</id><published>2007-01-22T14:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T14:35:20.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/1600/326829/Only%20you....jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/320/184223/Only%20you....jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/1600/218073/IMG_37934.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/320/524651/IMG_37934.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/1600/284705/Let%27s%20dance%21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/320/43057/Let%27s%20dance%21.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/1600/559446/Mission%20impossible%204.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7810/3890/320/253613/Mission%20impossible%204.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-116950532088111486?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/116950532088111486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/116950532088111486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2007/01/blog-post_22.html' title=''/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-2216194810228195506</id><published>2006-06-16T04:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T01:01:30.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dousprezece fix (contra poezie pt. Renuntare -Poesis31)</title><content type='html'>Se taraie prin tarini&lt;br /&gt;Himera intunecata&lt;br /&gt;Cu giulguil ei de stele&lt;br /&gt;Si ochi de haos negru&lt;br /&gt;Aluneca in campie&lt;br /&gt;La brat cu-al ei Erebu.&lt;br /&gt;Aceasta "femme" fatala&lt;br /&gt;Pe numele mic Nix&lt;br /&gt;Ingheata in ieri secunda&lt;br /&gt;La fiecare fix&lt;br /&gt;Douasprezece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desi ieri ti-era draga&lt;br /&gt;Si in crang ii taiai calea&lt;br /&gt;Azi nu mai vrei s-o afli&lt;br /&gt;Nici sa-i auzi chemarea.&lt;br /&gt;Ai osandit-o in graba&lt;br /&gt;Crezand ca porta vina&lt;br /&gt;Acelei clipe sumbre&lt;br /&gt;Ce ti-a inghitit lumina.&lt;br /&gt;Asa nevinovata&lt;br /&gt;Cu dor iti poarta jalea&lt;br /&gt;Culege resemnata&lt;br /&gt;Din ochi-ti flori de iris&lt;br /&gt;Cand vechiul orologiu&lt;br /&gt;Inchina ca prin vis&lt;br /&gt;Tanguitor elogiu&lt;br /&gt;La fiecare fix&lt;br /&gt;Douasprezece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ti-e otravita viata&lt;br /&gt;De spini de trandafir&lt;br /&gt;Ce-i porti intr-o cununa&lt;br /&gt;La fel ca un martir,&lt;br /&gt;In oarba-ti agonie&lt;br /&gt;Tu uiti ca in toate cele&lt;br /&gt;Judecatorul singur&lt;br /&gt;E acela care cere:&lt;br /&gt;Lumina, intuneric,&lt;br /&gt;Fiinta, nefiinta...&lt;br /&gt;Stapanul ecumenic&lt;br /&gt;Da la final sentinta!&lt;br /&gt;Ciopleste in inimi chipuri&lt;br /&gt;Cu drag sa le pastram&lt;br /&gt;Pana la ceasu in care&lt;br /&gt;Asa cum a prezis&lt;br /&gt;Pendul atemporal&lt;br /&gt;Anunta ora fix&lt;br /&gt;Douasprezece.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-2216194810228195506?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/2216194810228195506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=2216194810228195506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/2216194810228195506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/2216194810228195506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2011/04/dousprezece-fix-contra-poezie-pt.html' title='Dousprezece fix (contra poezie pt. Renuntare -Poesis31)'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-3007675033370237582</id><published>2006-05-11T05:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T05:07:37.650-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poezie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='de suflet'/><title type='text'>Run Forest, run!</title><content type='html'>Fugeam parca mancand pamantul,&lt;br /&gt;In ceasul zilei care moare,&lt;br /&gt;Ca pe un mar cules cu gandul&lt;br /&gt;Dintr-o gradina roditoare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fugeam fara sa stiu pe unde,&lt;br /&gt;Zdrelite talpile-mi firave&lt;br /&gt;Cerseau iertare sangerande&lt;br /&gt;Platind -credeau- pacate grave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fugeam, de ce? N-aveam habar!&lt;br /&gt;Si ploaia-mi biciuia obrazul&lt;br /&gt;Ca palma unui zeu barbar&lt;br /&gt;Ce-mi alunga necontenit curajul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fugeam, nici nu mai stiu de cand&lt;br /&gt;De-as fi stiut macar de cine&lt;br /&gt;Cand intr-o zi mi-a dat prin gand&lt;br /&gt;Cum ca-as putea sa fug de mine!?!&lt;br /&gt;11 May 2006&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-3007675033370237582?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/3007675033370237582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=3007675033370237582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/3007675033370237582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/3007675033370237582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2006/05/run-forest-run.html' title='Run Forest, run!'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-6956969365389985795</id><published>2006-01-21T04:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T00:59:01.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adio Cristina...</title><content type='html'>Treceai razand , mi-aduc aminte&lt;br /&gt;Cand prima data te-am zarit&lt;br /&gt;Te-am salutat fara cuvinte&lt;br /&gt;Si ca un cer de primavara&lt;br /&gt;Mi-ai zambit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treceai razand pe strada mea&lt;br /&gt;Cand te-am vazut intaia oara&lt;br /&gt;In cale-ti infloreau lalele&lt;br /&gt;Si mirosea a primavara&lt;br /&gt;Umbra ta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treceai razand printre ciresi&lt;br /&gt;Ce-ti asterneau in drum covoare&lt;br /&gt;Si suspinau neintelesi&lt;br /&gt;Visand macar o sarutare&lt;br /&gt;In urma ta....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-6956969365389985795?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/6956969365389985795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=6956969365389985795' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6956969365389985795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6956969365389985795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2011/04/adio-cristina.html' title='Adio Cristina...'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-97029405845196510</id><published>2005-10-25T05:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T05:10:05.620-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poezie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='de suflet'/><title type='text'>Doamna Toamna</title><content type='html'>Ah, ce ciuda am pe tine&lt;br /&gt;Doamna cu palton de stofa&lt;br /&gt;Cu manusi din piele, fine&lt;br /&gt;Si parfum de penelopa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa ce-ai umblat hai-hui&lt;br /&gt;Fix un an si-o saptamana&lt;br /&gt;Te-ai intors acum si-mi spui&lt;br /&gt;Ca-i mai vrea sa stai o luna,&lt;br /&gt;Poate doua, poate trei&lt;br /&gt;Pana cand copacii imbraca&lt;br /&gt;Straie noi si pe alei&lt;br /&gt;S-or asterne iar in treacat&lt;br /&gt;Paturi vestede si moi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vai ce ciuda am pe tine&lt;br /&gt;Doamna cu obrajii copti!&lt;br /&gt;S-au dus zilele senine&lt;br /&gt;Ne-ai imbrobodit pe toti!&lt;br /&gt;25 October 2005&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-97029405845196510?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/97029405845196510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=97029405845196510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/97029405845196510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/97029405845196510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2005/10/doamna-toamna.html' title='Doamna Toamna'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-6310112172920685737</id><published>2005-08-17T05:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T05:24:46.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dorinta ascunsa</title><content type='html'>As vrea sa fiu in scutec&lt;br /&gt;Un suflet nenascut,&lt;br /&gt;Sa port pruncia-n pantec&lt;br /&gt;Sa gem a inceput.&lt;br /&gt;S'adorm cu vesnicia&lt;br /&gt;Pe-un fir de papadie&lt;br /&gt;Sa ma-nvelesc cu glia&lt;br /&gt;Si perna dor sa-mi fie.&lt;br /&gt;Si beata de visare&lt;br /&gt;Din somn cand ma trezesc&lt;br /&gt;Sa ma 'nfasor in zare&lt;br /&gt;Si-n campuri sa 'nfloresc.&lt;br /&gt;Cand voi musca alene&lt;br /&gt;Din roua diminetii&lt;br /&gt;Strange-mi-s-ar sub gene&lt;br /&gt;De greier apa vietii.&lt;br /&gt;Spre seara din ponoare&lt;br /&gt;Din nou sa ma adun&lt;br /&gt;Si sa ma 'nalt pe-o boare&lt;br /&gt;Cu soarele sa-apun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand umbra noptii-apasa&lt;br /&gt;Pe pleoapa-mi stravezie&lt;br /&gt;Voi fi visand sfioasa&lt;br /&gt;La ziua ce-o sa vie...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-6310112172920685737?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/6310112172920685737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=6310112172920685737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6310112172920685737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/6310112172920685737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2005/08/dorinta-ascunsa.html' title='Dorinta ascunsa'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-557023126453286345</id><published>2005-08-03T04:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T01:00:31.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Asa sunt eu!</title><content type='html'>Nu stiu, nu vreau&lt;br /&gt;Si nici nu pot&lt;br /&gt;Si intr-o zi daca'as putea&lt;br /&gt;Cu siguranta ca n-as vrea&lt;br /&gt;Si daca totusi as voi&lt;br /&gt;Probabil ca nici nu voi sti&lt;br /&gt;Iar de-am sa stiu si de-am sa pot&lt;br /&gt;Acelasi lucru va fi tot&lt;br /&gt;Caci insasi nevointa mea&lt;br /&gt;Ar fi 'n aceasta clipa rea&lt;br /&gt;Iar de voi vrea si de voi sti&lt;br /&gt;Acelasi lucru tot ar fi&lt;br /&gt;Caci neputinta mea neghioaba&lt;br /&gt;Arata cat pot fi de slaba&lt;br /&gt;Iar cand voi vrea si voi putea&lt;br /&gt;Nimic din tot nu s-ar schimba&lt;br /&gt;Caci nestiinta mea ramasa&lt;br /&gt;Se afla tot la ea acasa.&lt;br /&gt;Si daca intr-o buna zi&lt;br /&gt;Se dovedeste ca voi sti&lt;br /&gt;Si dintr-o data voi putea&lt;br /&gt;Si culmea! Dac'as mai si vrea&lt;br /&gt;Inchipuie-ti ca as facea!&lt;br /&gt;Dar pana atuncea nici nu pot&lt;br /&gt;Nu vreau, nu stiu si-asa ca tot&lt;br /&gt;La fel ca ieri azi am sa fiu&lt;br /&gt;Iar maine va fi prea tarziu ?!?&lt;br /&gt;03 August 2005&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-557023126453286345?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/557023126453286345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=557023126453286345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/557023126453286345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/557023126453286345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2011/04/asa-sunt-eu.html' title='Asa sunt eu!'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-5098759267432474135</id><published>2005-08-02T05:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T05:01:48.555-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poezie'/><title type='text'>Alta zi si-o alta noapte</title><content type='html'>Langa vechea mea cetate&lt;br /&gt;Astazi o daramatura&lt;br /&gt;Tot ce mi-a ramas din toate&lt;br /&gt;I-un izvor cu apa pura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alta zi, alta ruina,&lt;br /&gt;Alt castel in fum se pierde&lt;br /&gt;Viata n-are nici o mila&lt;br /&gt;Cand copil nu te mai crede.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alta noapte, alte vise&lt;br /&gt;Tainic gem a destramare,&lt;br /&gt;Cioburi de iluzii stinse&lt;br /&gt;Lasa rani adanci prin carne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un alt an, mai multa moarte&lt;br /&gt;Simt prin vene cum imi curge,&lt;br /&gt;Alta zi , si-o alta noapte&lt;br /&gt;Timpul meu grabit se scurge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un izvor cu apa pura&lt;br /&gt;Susura langa cetate&lt;br /&gt;Si din el mai iau o gura&lt;br /&gt;Ma imbat si uit de toate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-5098759267432474135?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/5098759267432474135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=5098759267432474135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/5098759267432474135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/5098759267432474135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2005/08/alta-zi-si-o-alta-noapte.html' title='Alta zi si-o alta noapte'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35038571.post-5454253443525577537</id><published>2005-01-06T05:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T05:04:14.265-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poezie'/><title type='text'>Pasarea mea maiastra</title><content type='html'>Du-te pasare maiastra,&lt;br /&gt;Zbori in cartea cu povesti!&lt;br /&gt;Du-te acuma si ma lasa,&lt;br /&gt;Inapoi de unde esti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La fereastra 'n zori de zi&lt;br /&gt;Nu imi mai canta balade,&lt;br /&gt;Lasa-ma si m-oi trezi&lt;br /&gt;Si fara acorduri calde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu mai sunt copil de mult&lt;br /&gt;Am argint in par si parca&lt;br /&gt;Chiar de-mi place sa te-ascult&lt;br /&gt;Nostalgia 'n zori ma incearca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Canta-i tril de ciocarlie&lt;br /&gt;Pe la stresini altui prunc&lt;br /&gt;Canta-i de copilarie&lt;br /&gt;Pan' ce anii il ajung.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Canta-i despre vesnicie&lt;br /&gt;Si despre albastre flori,&lt;br /&gt;Canta-i cum mi-ai cantat mie&lt;br /&gt;Si-are sa zambeasca in zori.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35038571-5454253443525577537?l=theoldjukebox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/feeds/5454253443525577537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35038571&amp;postID=5454253443525577537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/5454253443525577537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35038571/posts/default/5454253443525577537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theoldjukebox.blogspot.com/2005/01/pasarea-mea-maiastra.html' title='Pasarea mea maiastra'/><author><name>Mona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14587666491160179961</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
