<?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-1237136614075061856</id><updated>2012-02-04T04:10:56.163-08:00</updated><category term='suflet'/><title type='text'>... || pureANDsimple ... ||</title><subtitle type='html'>semnez:
s c o r t i s o a r a</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>48</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-9082002760208771646</id><published>2011-11-24T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-24T12:17:34.678-08:00</updated><title type='text'>amoruri comerciale</title><content type='html'>Sa ma plang sau sa nu o mai fac? la asa zi, nici regulile nu le mai respect...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma tot gandesc cum poti sa mai crezi in lumea asta romaneasca?! Cum? cand te lupti pentru o viata mai buna, aici, in radacinile create? Si cand spui, hai ca mai merge, te plesnesc altii cu nesimtirile lor, cu tupeul lor de "mai puternic" si o iei razna. Imi vine sa rup toti peretii sa sparg tot in jur si nici atunci nu voi fi linistita, stiind ca unii isi bat joc de mine si de munca mea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daca vezi ca incerc de ce imi tai picioarele in loc sa imi dai aripi sa zbor? De ce ma "futi" in loc sa imi fcai bine? De ce dracu numai aici se poate? De ce?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nenorocirile astea zilnice ma omoara, iar faptul ca ma lupt parca apar mai multe piedici....mai multe nesimtiri, mai multe detoate....si prea putin bine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si stau si ma gandesc cum dracu sa mai raman aici cand stiu ca de 4 ani ma chinui sa o scoatem la capat cu bine...sa avem speranta la o viata decenta, in care facturile nu ma deranjeaza lunar si ca pot sa imi permit mai mult decat 3 perechi de papuci pe tot anul, si aceia de anul trecut. Ca pot iesi seara la cina in oras, ca nu ma deranjeaza sa scot banii din buzunar.... Cand voi putea sa am aceasta usurinta de a trai?&lt;br /&gt;Probabil cand voi scapa de Romania asta imputita.... probabil cand altii nu-si vor mai bate joc de munca mea, probabil cand imi reneg radacinile si voi pleca dracului de aici...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunt nervoasa, suparata si cel mai mult dezamagita ca am crezut ca putem avea si noi afacerea noastra, iar ei, nenorocitii, isi bat joc de noi....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar un lucru e sigur....nu ne lasam.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-9082002760208771646?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/9082002760208771646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=9082002760208771646' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/9082002760208771646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/9082002760208771646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2011/11/amoruri-comerciale.html' title='amoruri comerciale'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-8608425951789009405</id><published>2011-05-07T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T02:24:05.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dimineti de primavara</title><content type='html'>undeva&lt;br /&gt;candva&lt;br /&gt;pe aici&lt;br /&gt;prin sfera asta&lt;br /&gt;prafuita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;scriam...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;parca ma vad in fiecare dimineata cum deschideam calculatorul si imi ascultam melodiile... cum incepeam sa imi pregatesc cuvintele....cum incepeam...si insiram...cuvinte puse la uscat intr-un blog... ma vedeam cum treceau fiecare sentiment prin graba tastarii... cum stergeam si o luam de la capat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acum... privesc doar cerul si oftez.... privesc pasarile si simt cum adie vantul... privesc spre casa si mi-e dor de ea....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o melodie care imi place, o melodie pentru mine de la mine... sper sa va placa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7AW9C3-qWug" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dar.... sper sfarsit descopar ca am crescut...ca aceste cuvinte mai putin spuse sunt mai dulci si mai simtite... ca aici, unde sunt, e schimbare...e viitor si e iubire.... e ceea ce ma face sa simt si sa traiesc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pe undeva&lt;br /&gt;candva&lt;br /&gt;cumva&lt;br /&gt;voi reveni si voi scrie&lt;br /&gt;cuvinte, soapte si simtiri de viata&lt;br /&gt;de viata mea&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-8608425951789009405?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/8608425951789009405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=8608425951789009405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8608425951789009405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8608425951789009405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2011/05/dimineti-de-primavara.html' title='dimineti de primavara'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/7AW9C3-qWug/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-5085329030762525717</id><published>2011-04-11T12:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T13:01:56.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>cuvinte de rau</title><content type='html'>va urasc pentru ca sunteti tigani si nu rromi, va urasc pentru ca furati si nu munciti, va urasc pentru ca existati si mereu va voi uri pentru ca nicio sansa in lumea asta nu va convinge sa fiti oameni corecti!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cu siguranta pe mine nu ma veti mai convinge sa va ofer vreo sansa, sa cred in voi sau sa vad in voi oameni. sunteti doar niste umbre care nu vor mai merita nici macar salutul meu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ati murit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-5085329030762525717?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/5085329030762525717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=5085329030762525717' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/5085329030762525717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/5085329030762525717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2011/04/cuvinte-de-rau.html' title='cuvinte de rau'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-2679979213789107212</id><published>2011-01-06T05:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T05:07:30.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sa continuam....</title><content type='html'>...cu amintiri&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;desen...casa pionierilor...dupa-mese de joi si dimineti de sambata...cu desenul si creioanele aproape... cu geamurile deschise...cu profu aproape... cu voi, oameni, care nu mai cunosc si gasesc in lume... cu multe glume ....si cu o liniste ce rar o mai gasesc... eram acolo, prezenta, cu un singur creion ofeream viata unei simple foi albe...eram acolo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VfxiUTanUqM?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VfxiUTanUqM?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-2679979213789107212?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/2679979213789107212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=2679979213789107212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/2679979213789107212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/2679979213789107212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2011/01/sa-continuam.html' title='sa continuam....'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-1869417381529783528</id><published>2011-01-06T00:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T00:18:21.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>buna dimineata, 2011</title><content type='html'>mai e una si se termina sarbatorile de iarna... sf ion e doar maine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dar azi...dis de dimineata m-am trezit cu un singur gand... "vama veche"... nu v-am mai ascultat...si cred ca e timpul....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muzica de dragoste sa fie... sa fie "ana"...sa fie ganduri pentru indragostiti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iubim! iubesc! si nimeni nu-mi poate fura sentimentul ce-l am cand ma asez langa tine in fiecare seara...cand te imbratisez.... iubesc!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aH5qxil8mgg?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aH5qxil8mgg?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-1869417381529783528?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/1869417381529783528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=1869417381529783528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/1869417381529783528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/1869417381529783528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2011/01/buna-dimineata-2011.html' title='buna dimineata, 2011'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-7025441667258111452</id><published>2010-11-30T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T14:09:08.948-08:00</updated><title type='text'>La multi ani mie! :)</title><content type='html'>Doar 24!&lt;br /&gt;La multi ani mie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mtM_cc4SPJI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mtM_cc4SPJI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-7025441667258111452?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/7025441667258111452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=7025441667258111452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/7025441667258111452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/7025441667258111452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2010/11/la-multi-ani-mie.html' title='La multi ani mie! :)'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-4562090012737901813</id><published>2010-11-02T05:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T05:22:31.422-07:00</updated><title type='text'>eden</title><content type='html'>cautand intre vibratiile vantului, am descoperit un nou... eternul vantului ce nu ma scuteste de simtaminte...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in timp ce imi stergeam "friends" de pe myspace... am descoperit o formatie de care imi era dor...sau mai bine spus o melodie de care imi era dor... e d e n&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tkn-SYf11lA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tkn-SYf11lA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iubesc. iubesc un singur om. iubesc jumatate mea. iubesc omul langa care ma trezesc in fiecare dimineata... iubitul meu... tu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-4562090012737901813?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/4562090012737901813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=4562090012737901813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/4562090012737901813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/4562090012737901813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2010/11/eden.html' title='eden'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-1726612263977299027</id><published>2010-10-18T05:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T05:08:52.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>zambete</title><content type='html'>M-am trezit cu un zambet la geam de dimineata...asa ca voinica m-am pornit in lumea curateniei...dupa un dus rapid si friguros...am luat drumul noului meu loc de munca...adica al nostru... AVEM UN MAGAZIN DE JUCARII:D&lt;br /&gt;Pe viitor mi-am propus sa investesc intr-un magazinas pentru bebelusi si mamici:))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oricum.... la munca nervi si certuri cu fratiorul...si acum intr-un moment mai linistit am descoperit un mesaj de la Maya... cand ne vedem la un ceai?:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pai cum sa nu ma bucur... doar e Maya care imi citeste blogul --- desigur ca abia astept sa ne vedem, domnisoara cu haina de sibiu:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-1726612263977299027?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/1726612263977299027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=1726612263977299027' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/1726612263977299027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/1726612263977299027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2010/10/zambete.html' title='zambete'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-5216499705035978668</id><published>2010-10-01T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T11:28:20.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sentimente</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qzkrzrxQPJc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qzkrzrxQPJc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;indrazneste...priveste...simte...&lt;br /&gt;parca totul e altfel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-5216499705035978668?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/5216499705035978668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=5216499705035978668' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/5216499705035978668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/5216499705035978668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2010/10/sentimente.html' title='sentimente'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-3099859855409034291</id><published>2010-08-17T12:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T12:05:14.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fara cuvinte</title><content type='html'>ma simt doar singura...cu totul...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ab_Mri-M5go?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ab_Mri-M5go?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-3099859855409034291?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/3099859855409034291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=3099859855409034291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3099859855409034291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3099859855409034291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2010/08/fara-cuvinte.html' title='fara cuvinte'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-2801570837438963722</id><published>2010-08-16T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T13:26:36.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>liniste spre miez de noapte</title><content type='html'>Zilele trecute cand eram pe facebook am descoperit o noua/veche melodie - another one... si uite asa am o noua obsesie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In ultima vreme parca a cazut cerul peste mine, peste noi....ghinionul e peste tot... si parca optimismul din mine se micsoreaza tot mai mult... parca totul se pregateste de prabusire...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar imi raspund mereu la fel...asa va fi mereu....binele tine prea putin, iar raul se prelungeste pe fiecare zi ce o traiesti... asa ca...nici macar sa plang nu mai are rost caci stiu ca va fi mereu acolo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fine...sper ca melodia de mai jos sa incante auzurile voastre...si sper doar sa nu fie prea curand stearsa de pe youtube:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intre culori mai mult pline de gri se pregateste sa rasara un soare palid...plin de scaieti si plin de furie...spre noi...oameni de nicaieri...din povesti cu nori fumurii si fete cu fete de vrajitoare... un clinchet de clopotel...ar vrea sa sune a vreme buna, dar prevesteste un siroi de furnici intepatoare... e vremea de o schimbare...spre bine, desigur, caci ochii ma dor de la griul ce-l traiesc... parca vara ar trebui sa te bucure cu caldura ei luminoasa...dar parca e ger mereu afara...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o alta zi...o alta viata... si totul e spre liniste...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/w2-c6oexHbc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/w2-c6oexHbc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-2801570837438963722?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/2801570837438963722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=2801570837438963722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/2801570837438963722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/2801570837438963722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2010/08/liniste-spre-miez-de-noapte.html' title='liniste spre miez de noapte'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-5583848742433262595</id><published>2010-06-24T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T12:09:53.275-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='suflet'/><title type='text'>din nou pe blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/TCOtTCN5fNI/AAAAAAAAAEo/-ai5GAVXzjE/s1600/P1010482.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/TCOtTCN5fNI/AAAAAAAAAEo/-ai5GAVXzjE/s200/P1010482.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486419313591680210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totul e un labirint si totusi e acelasi drum...&lt;br /&gt;Din 18 decembrie 2009 nu am mai scris....parca a fost ieri... ce repede trece timpul...vremea...iarna... primavara...e vara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viata se desfasoara intr-un spatiu mirific...pot spune... doar copii in jurul meu...adorabil. Desi greu si obositor un zambet de copil imi da forta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este a 4 zi de concediu... primit din intamplare... as fi vrut sa mergem la plaja...dar e vreme urata...ploua mai tot timpul... dar de maine incepe aventura de weekend:D pornim spre cluj:D vor fi multe zambete, multe poze si amintiri noi cu prieteni vechi..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poate revin...cand voi avea timp si cand nu va trebui sa ma odihnesc;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peste nori, un singur chip se vede,&lt;br /&gt;al tau...se reflecta dintre asternuturile noastre in tot universul ce-l traim&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-5583848742433262595?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/5583848742433262595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=5583848742433262595' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/5583848742433262595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/5583848742433262595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2010/06/din-nou-pe-blog.html' title='din nou pe blog'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/TCOtTCN5fNI/AAAAAAAAAEo/-ai5GAVXzjE/s72-c/P1010482.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-8715204186251818826</id><published>2009-12-18T03:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T03:20:15.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>vibratii</title><content type='html'>Undeva intr-un tinut indepartat... o calatorie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am deschis ferestrele iar mireasma florilor inghetate s-a imprastiat in tot trupul meu. Aburul santalului s-a incoltit in mainile mele pentru a saluta fulgii de nea. E zapada. Ninge. Mult prea frumos pentru o simpla privire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Departe... acolo intre brazi, intre frunze tabacite de timp si mucegai se prinde o viata. Un suras de animal salbatic si o noua mama. Nastere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Printre nori parca Il vezi. ne zambeste sfios si aratos. E el.. al nostru, al Tuturor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aici, in preajma nimicurilor trecatoare, a trecerilor de pietoni stopite cu strigate si spasme...intre sosele cu roti vitezomane... aici, intre cei patru pereti colorati de iubirea noastra ne regasim noi...printre asternuturi moi cu miros de dragoste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te iubesc!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-8715204186251818826?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/8715204186251818826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=8715204186251818826' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8715204186251818826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8715204186251818826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/12/vibratii.html' title='vibratii'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-3606287528885599109</id><published>2009-08-01T03:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T03:09:02.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>actualizari</title><content type='html'>sunt licentiata....&lt;br /&gt;am un nou post...alta firma....dar acelasi ziar....&lt;br /&gt;am actualizat site-ul mamei ... puteti vedea aici: http://danielaraduart.blogspot.com/&lt;br /&gt;am reimprospatat aerul in casa...ca in fiecare zi posibila....&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;astept sa vad ce se mai pregateste saptamana viitoare...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pusi, pa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-3606287528885599109?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/3606287528885599109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=3606287528885599109' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3606287528885599109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3606287528885599109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/08/actualizari.html' title='actualizari'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-4315891246888120945</id><published>2009-06-18T04:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T04:28:53.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>halo</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qZ0FhVZce2o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qZ0FhVZce2o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everywhere I'm looking now&lt;br /&gt;I'm surrounded by your embrace&lt;br /&gt;Baby I can see your halo&lt;br /&gt;You know you're my saving grace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're everything I need and more&lt;br /&gt;It's written all over your face&lt;br /&gt;Baby I can feel your halo&lt;br /&gt;Pray it won't fade away"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-4315891246888120945?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/4315891246888120945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=4315891246888120945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/4315891246888120945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/4315891246888120945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/06/halo.html' title='halo'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-5022844544019539545</id><published>2009-04-13T23:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T00:01:54.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>despre clipe</title><content type='html'>In fiecare zi aceleasi ganduri despre societate. In fiecare zi aceleasi temeri fata de aceasta. Daca nebunul din colt traieste o criza si ma gaseste in calea lui? Daca domnul de la 4 ce sta aplecat la fereastra face nenorocirea de a sari? Daca se poate intampla chiar azi? Si mereu si mereu la fel...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiecare zi e altfel din cauza timpului care trece. Dar daca suntem doar un ac de ceas prost croit? Daca suntem doar o simpla clipa fara forma, fara timp? Probleme de existentialism... prea multe... si mereu si mereu la fel...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dimineata starea de spirit e somnoroasa. Dimineata trebuie sa lucrez. Dimineata viata e rece. Dimineata inseamna pentru multi dintre noi inceput... si mereu si mereu la fel...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma gandesc uneori la timp. Ma gandesc uneori la cuvinte. Ma gandesc uneori la viata. Ma gandesc uneori la oameni. Oare toate acestea au nevoie si de mine sau e doar o facere?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inchid ochii. Zambesc. Respir. Visez. Si spun "Buna dimineata, iubitul meu!" si totul are o alta forma, o alta simtire, totul e altfel... e bine... e el langa mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-5022844544019539545?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/5022844544019539545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=5022844544019539545' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/5022844544019539545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/5022844544019539545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/04/despre-clipe.html' title='despre clipe'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-3491328971296388012</id><published>2009-04-07T02:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T02:36:12.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pentru liniste</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1wPo993nWGw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1wPo993nWGw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-3491328971296388012?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/3491328971296388012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=3491328971296388012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3491328971296388012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3491328971296388012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/04/pentru-liniste.html' title='pentru liniste'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-623650881405268436</id><published>2009-04-07T02:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T02:27:02.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vreau sa imi schimb locul de munca</title><content type='html'>Vreau un alt loc de munca!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-623650881405268436?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/623650881405268436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=623650881405268436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/623650881405268436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/623650881405268436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/04/vreau-sa-imi-schim-locul-de-munca.html' title='Vreau sa imi schimb locul de munca'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-7659314242176274587</id><published>2009-03-17T04:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T04:24:52.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rom, ciocolata Rom</title><content type='html'>Cand eram mica adoram sa primesc de la mama ciocolata "Rom". Rom, acea ciocolatica care peste timp s-a tranformat, care si-a schimbat reteta, ciocolatica care m-a dezamagit prin spotul publicitar care l-a ales. Manele? Pai mai bine faceai reclama de 3 secunde unde sa apara numele, decat sa pui in reclama manele... oribil!&lt;br /&gt;Astazi.. mananc ciocolatica "Poiana" care ii face o mai buna concurenta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar, mi-e dor de "Rom" cea veche...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-7659314242176274587?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/7659314242176274587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=7659314242176274587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/7659314242176274587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/7659314242176274587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/03/rom-ciocolata-rom.html' title='Rom, ciocolata Rom'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-3092786575412517621</id><published>2009-03-13T01:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T01:39:15.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>off!</title><content type='html'>Aici se afla toate off-urile intalnite si nevazute.... cand viata e cum e, cand toti se ghideaza dupa un singur cuvantm, cand viata e doar o alta curva imbracata in foi de levantica... aici imi aflu toate off-urile.&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;br /&gt;B&lt;br /&gt;C&lt;br /&gt;.... si totul se termina in Z&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ragusita. mirata. suparata. sufocata de cotidian. sunt doar eu... cu alte culori in gri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cand cresti mare e tot mai greu. cand cresti iti dai seama ca fiecare miscare determina mai multe valuri. cand cresti mare vrei atat de multe. cand cresti mare ai nevoie de atat de multe. cand cresti mare iti dai seama ca trebuie sa muncesti prea mult pentru ceva putin cand nu esti acolo sus... cand cresti mare iti dai seama ca vrei sa fii din nou mic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lumea asta toata... se aduna in off-uri...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-3092786575412517621?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/3092786575412517621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=3092786575412517621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3092786575412517621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3092786575412517621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/03/off.html' title='off!'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-1672134381524421952</id><published>2009-03-03T00:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T00:17:52.515-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A murit un om!</title><content type='html'>Se intampla in Romania. Zilele noastre. Se intampla acum si aici. Noi unde suntem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A murit un om sau mai bine spus A MAI MURIT UN OM! Cine urla? CIne trage la raspundere? Nimeni, dar un om a murit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.derdelus.ro/2009/02/22/in-sinaia-a-murit-un-om/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa-mi spune si mie cineva: de ce?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-1672134381524421952?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/1672134381524421952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=1672134381524421952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/1672134381524421952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/1672134381524421952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/03/murit-un-om.html' title='A murit un om!'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-8640726582851904973</id><published>2009-02-15T02:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T02:37:30.119-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Buna dimineata!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SZfwZtHB5eI/AAAAAAAAADQ/s6A_5O0mOB0/s1600-h/P2150030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SZfwZtHB5eI/AAAAAAAAADQ/s6A_5O0mOB0/s200/P2150030.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302971410648524258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chiar daca se intampla ca din 7 seri sa dormim 5 sau 4 impreuna, pentru ca sufletul meu lucreaza si noaptea, asta nu inseamna ca zorii nu ne gasesc impreuna... undeva pe la 7 dimineata.&lt;br /&gt;E duminica, iar el doarme linistit langa mine. Pentru ca nu ma pot abtine de la o asa priveliste, i-am facut cateva poze, celui ce imi cucereste sufletul in fiecare dimineata!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te iubesc, dragostea mea!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-8640726582851904973?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/8640726582851904973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=8640726582851904973' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8640726582851904973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8640726582851904973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/02/buna-dimineata.html' title='Buna dimineata!'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SZfwZtHB5eI/AAAAAAAAADQ/s6A_5O0mOB0/s72-c/P2150030.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-3705056676896446343</id><published>2009-02-14T08:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T08:21:57.851-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pasiune si arta</title><content type='html'>Un blog de prezentare:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://danielaraduart.blogspot.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totul pentru camera ta:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-3705056676896446343?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/3705056676896446343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=3705056676896446343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3705056676896446343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3705056676896446343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/02/pasiune-si-arta.html' title='pasiune si arta'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-7118336305913445397</id><published>2009-02-11T04:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T04:31:19.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>intr-o doara</title><content type='html'>concediu... concediu de odihna... desi nu sunt obosita. E concediu de studii...pentru ca am lasat treburi neterminate.&lt;br /&gt;In linistea de care da dovada tot acest blogspot, am descoperit un post ce continea un video ce il puteti vizualiza mai in josul postului...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.Despre si cum reactionam la politic.&lt;br /&gt;Intamplator si deloc impodobit cu lauri, ma aflu printre persoanele care au studiat politicul. Un cearceaf cu pietre aruncate spre cer, as putea numi politica. Nu sti cum cade, nu sti unde zboara, doar acopera un profil de oameni. La fel ca matematica, la fel ca literatura, la fel ca biologia, nu acopera decat un varf de ac. Sa instruiesti, sa copiezi, sa inveti... nu poti.... e doar un aspect al unor evenimente ce iti elibereaza caracterul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inchei cu ultimele cuvinte despre si reactie: sa condamni sau sa lupti pentru o idee? sa intervii sau sa lasi sa se intample? e sau nu e si razbouiul meu? ramane sa percepi evenimentul si sa te eliberezi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enjoy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q56pHCGrlc4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q56pHCGrlc4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....avem nevoie de moarte, dar probabil nu cum e in acest episod....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subiectiv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-7118336305913445397?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/7118336305913445397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=7118336305913445397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/7118336305913445397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/7118336305913445397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2009/02/concediu.html' title='intr-o doara'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-8512772030076628107</id><published>2008-11-24T07:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T08:32:18.432-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ie ie ie ... it's great!</title><content type='html'>Iubesc!&lt;br /&gt;V-am mai spus oare? :)) hi hi hi ... este atata de bine sa ma trezesc in fiecare dimineata langa el, sa ii simt mirosul pielii pline de somnic dulce...sa-l imbratisez si sa ma incante cu privirea lui de caramel:D&lt;br /&gt;Imi iubesc iubitul mai mult ca orice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stiu...am mai scris...dar tu, cel ce citesti, oare sti cum e sa te trezesti langa persoana care o simti langa tine toata viata de acum inainte, cu care sti ca vrei sa te trezesti in fiecare dimineata alaturi? Oare sti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ochisorii, zambetul, obrajii, mainile, pielea... vreau sa ma imbrac cu tine in fiecare zi:) Vreau sa te am langa tine mereu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iubesc...iubesc...te iubesc...iubesc....iubesc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Epow4VXhnW0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Epow4VXhnW0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3sJPUTTfNbg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3sJPUTTfNbg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tE iUBESC!&lt;br /&gt;yours&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-8512772030076628107?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/8512772030076628107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=8512772030076628107' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8512772030076628107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8512772030076628107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/11/ie-ie-ie-its-great.html' title='ie ie ie ... it&apos;s great!'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-3680739718976342624</id><published>2008-11-11T08:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T08:34:27.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Limba nu e o moda!</title><content type='html'>Picatele...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cer mult a trecut de cand nu am mai scris....ce mult a trecut de cand nu am mai folosit cuvinte... ce mult a trecut de cand nu ma asezam in fata calculatorului, puneam muzica mea si ma apucam de scris.&lt;br /&gt;Scriam. Mult! Si chiar foarte mult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acum imi era dor de a scrie un nou post. Imi era dor sa scriu cuvinte si ganduri insirate pe ecran, ce prind forme si nuante. Mi-e dor de metafore si de insusiri nemarginite, mi-e dor de cuvinte mari si pompoase... desi...sincera dezvalui acest fapt...chiar daca nu mi-am mai folosit intreg limbajul asta nu a insemnat ca nu am fost inteleasa. Ma mira cuvintele auzite din glasul celorlalti. Inteleg, dar nu le mai folosesc. M-am razvratit impotriva limbii. Am renuntat a o mai folosi mai mult decat un simplu dialog cu simple cuvite si uzuale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M-am saturat de transformarile limbii materne si m-am saturat in special de formele incoerente pe care le ia.&lt;br /&gt;Limba nu e o moda! Si nimeni nu mai vede asta!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pacat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si sa lasam ca Norah Jones sa isi cante cuvintele....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UIeK6ZLWfVo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UIeK6ZLWfVo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-3680739718976342624?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/3680739718976342624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=3680739718976342624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3680739718976342624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3680739718976342624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/11/limba-nu-e-o-moda.html' title='Limba nu e o moda!'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-8929985404913761696</id><published>2008-09-19T02:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T03:00:40.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sibiu</title><content type='html'>M-am mutat in Sibiu. Din iulie m-am facut sibianca cu acte in regula.&lt;br /&gt;Dar nu asta e important, ci faptul ca sunt impreuna cu sufletul meu, dragostea mea si iubitul meu!:D&lt;br /&gt;Locuim impreuna si impartim fiecare firicel din viata noastra. Mereu alaturi si mereu incantati unul de celalalt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TE IUBESC!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(iar acesta este un blog de un alt stil de viata)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-8929985404913761696?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/8929985404913761696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=8929985404913761696' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8929985404913761696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8929985404913761696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/09/sibiu.html' title='Sibiu'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-2319521493694775224</id><published>2008-03-11T13:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T13:49:44.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>de vorba cu Dumnezeu [2]</title><content type='html'>Cred in tine Doamne! Si ma gandesc... de ce? daca tu stai acolo sus si privesti cum ne despicam unul pe celalalt!&lt;br /&gt;Vreau sa te vad! Sa imi apari in fata ochilor mei!!! Vreau sa te vad langa mine... asa in fata mea, cu imbracaminte de om, cu pistrui pe fata sau cearcane... sa te vad!! sa pot sa dau in tine! sa te intreb de ce m-am nascut! sa fiu rau sau sa fac rau? sa te condamn si sa te intreb de ce m-ai nascut!!!&lt;br /&gt;unde esti tu, suflet peste tot in lumea asta? unde? ca ma lasi sa ma pierd de totul meu... de ceea ce ma face om!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ti-am spus de atatea ori ce e in mine! Sti foarte bine ce imi doresc si ce vreau, dar cred ca uneori e totul o farsa din partea ta, mie... ca situatile de tensiuni si panica ma fac sa nu constientizez gravitati si sa par un bulgare de piatra...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dar nu sunt... aici in cochilia mea... nu sunt deloc ceea ce par... stiu asta... dar... as vrea ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;un singur lucru te rog Doamne... sa ne tii tari.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[pe un ocean... de pamant, cand ma intorceam in acel oras gri si plin de nemine... prin pustietatea dealurilor si a caselor taranesti prabusite in timp... am zarit 2 morminte... am imaginat pentru un el si o ea...ce n-au vrut sa-si paraseasca pamantul si ceea ce ia tinut in viata impreuna...stau de veghe si ofera liniste si pace celor ce nu le tulbura somnul...imi ofereau mie, ca simpla trecatoare, un final al vietii alaturi de tine... mereu langa tine!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-2319521493694775224?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/2319521493694775224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=2319521493694775224' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/2319521493694775224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/2319521493694775224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/03/de-vorba-cu-dumnezeu-2.html' title='de vorba cu Dumnezeu [2]'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-4442156463891029982</id><published>2008-03-05T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T13:09:55.601-08:00</updated><title type='text'>maruntisuri de martie</title><content type='html'>Sa ne definim...&lt;br /&gt;Cine suntem? De cine apartinem? Simtim? Intre cine si ce? Pe ce linie mergem? Si alte intrebari fara noima.... ma privesc in oglinda...&lt;br /&gt;Sunt o tipa. Un cliseu clasic de a te defini. Sunt o prietena... ceva mai personal. Sunt o fiica... deja ating un punct dureros pentru unii, incluzand familia, multi sunt frustrati de acest format... eu sunt fericita cand pronunt "familie". Sunt un punc ce uneste cercul....ceea ce spune ceva despre mine si cum ma reprezint. Sa merg mai departe... Sunt iubita lui... ceea ce inseamna implinire pentru mine, iar pentru alti doar un alt motiv de a spera..la fel cum si eu speram...sau pentru alti altii inseamna si mai multe.... si dintre toate aleg "Sunt iubita lui"&lt;br /&gt;Apartin cred ca celor mai multe chestii ce ma definesc....de la ceaiul cu scortisoara si lumanarile ce imi orneaza patul...pana la creioanele colorate ce le port mereu in geanta... apartin unor vise...&lt;br /&gt;Simt...atat de mult si atat de puternic... iubita lui il iubeste...&lt;br /&gt;Intre suflet si societate... pur si simplu plutesc, doar pentru ca nu cred ca timpul alearga asa cum crede toata lumea...&lt;br /&gt;Infinitul e linia spre care am pornit...iar eternitatea e sentimentul ce l-ai scrijelit pe cer..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stau stramb ca sa gandesc drept.... un citat dintr-o tipa ce cred ca la randui a citat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma doare capul... ma doare mana de innebunesc... ma doare boala asta nebuna si am sa-i cersec lui Dumnezeu un nou medicament... mai dam o sansa...cui nu stiu... dupa care promit sa .. nu stiu.... sa incerc din nou [si am un zambet frumos si linistit pe fata cand gandesc toate acestea]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sti ce ma linisteste? Gandul ca e mirosul tau in incaperea asta... ca e prezenta ta aici... simt ca esti aici, langa mine... asta ma linisteste cel mai mult...oricat de greu e...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iubesc... te iubesc... mereu te voi iubi...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-4442156463891029982?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/4442156463891029982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=4442156463891029982' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/4442156463891029982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/4442156463891029982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/03/maruntisuri-de-martie.html' title='maruntisuri de martie'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-1327299872496322422</id><published>2008-03-01T00:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T00:49:22.724-08:00</updated><title type='text'>prima dimineata de martie, 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R8kXNymML5I/AAAAAAAAABY/fNkS7S42kkA/s1600-h/small_white_flower_2005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R8kXNymML5I/AAAAAAAAABY/fNkS7S42kkA/s200/small_white_flower_2005.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172691172699418514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;|| my voice is very very deep ||&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the coffeehouse&lt;br /&gt;the coffeeshop&lt;br /&gt;the coffeeroom&lt;br /&gt;the coffeelife&lt;br /&gt;the coffeestyle&lt;br /&gt;the coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu-mi place cafeau sa o beau, dar imi place aroma ei.&lt;br /&gt;Nu pot sa beau cafea, dar imi place sa o prepar.&lt;br /&gt;Beau ceai. Mult ceai. Si mi-am propus sa incep sa studiez cultura ceaiului. Cine ce bea? De ce si unde bea? Cand si impreuna cu cine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am sa-mi transform casa intr-un glob pamantesc... am sa pictez peretii cu creionul, iar perdelele le voi transforma in apa... chiar si pentru 4 luni...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O dimineata in multe feluri... o dimineata linistita si cu plecari... o dimineata prin gari sau pe strazi.... o dimineata cu nori si calda... o dimineata de primavara ce va aduce un nou timp... o dimineata plina de calm si placut pentru mine... cu un singur gand spre tine... cu un singur gest spre mine... o simpla dimineata de prim martie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buna dimineata si o primavara frumoasa!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;| baba mi-e 9 martie, iar mosul e 13 martie |&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-1327299872496322422?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/1327299872496322422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=1327299872496322422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/1327299872496322422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/1327299872496322422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/03/prima-dimineata-de-martie-2008.html' title='prima dimineata de martie, 2008'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R8kXNymML5I/AAAAAAAAABY/fNkS7S42kkA/s72-c/small_white_flower_2005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-8318871880496745446</id><published>2008-02-10T12:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T12:36:52.691-08:00</updated><title type='text'>D E D I C A T I E</title><content type='html'>povesteste-mi despre nimic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in limitele bunului simt si a normalului firesc conceput de toti... iti dai seama ca in situatii de rara sensibilitate totul nu se intampla...el este imaginat...&lt;br /&gt;vorbeste-mi domne despre nimic? oare ce poti sa-mi spui? ca afara ar fi frumos sa fie soare cand in casa e plin de nori? ca daca stranut asta inseamna ca am si racit? sau ce mama dracului si a ingerului se intampla?&lt;br /&gt;nimic, doamna, nimic&lt;br /&gt;unde e acest nimic cand in toata aceasta avalansa se intampla o neordine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;suparata, trista, bolnava ... nebuna si putin apatica la tot ce e azi...&lt;br /&gt;credincioasa, suspicioasa si... intamplator, din nou bolnava!&lt;br /&gt;ne-am pierdut in lume dupa botezul de la 6 saptamani. am inceput sa intram in normal... am parasit salbaticia pantecului matern si am intrat in toata aceasta revolta numita lume...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;basme, domne, basme!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;astept, intre asternuturi si pereti pictati cu amintiri, povesti... povestea vietii tale...povestea lui, a ei, a celor doi indragostiti de pe banca din spatele catedralei cu o singura religie si mai multi preoti... astept povesti despre gandurile din mine...care se opresc in propriul meu pantec.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;suferinta o nastem noi, dar durerea o primim... cu primul tipat pana la ultimul... ne sunt daruite, de Cel ce ne e Tata...&lt;br /&gt;de ce? acum... nu mai vreau sa stiu... te impaci cu durerile. incerci sa le oferi alternative, sa le ascunzi indizolvarea medicamentelor, sa le amagesti cu amorteli, sa le mesteci intre coapse si sa le ignori atunci cand ele devin insuportabile...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am nevoie de o noua viata! de nascut m-am nascut, dar viata in care m-am nascut e "nimic"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"nu sti ce e viata!!!" nu stiu. am sange regal in mine. parintii mei se trag din regi si regine. ne ascundem in vagauna padurii si ne ducem viata de regi asa cum stim noi mai bine...flamanzind... nu stiu ce e viata pentru ca m-au tinut in puf, pe paturi pline de perne, cu struguri si portocale cand ne ascundeam de regim...&lt;br /&gt;ma imbraca mama in rochitele ei cu volane sau din matase cand eram prunc...si alergam libera printre copaci... tata ma ducea la calarit pe mine si pe fratele meu. aveam chiar si un cal, se numea "vifor". murise de batranete, dar nu in curtea casei noastre... bunicu m-a invatat sa trag cu arma si ma scotea la plimbare dupa iepuri...&lt;br /&gt;diminetile le petreceam la gura sobei, cu bunica. beam ceai din flori de mar si mancam turta dulce. mama imi impletea parul, iar seara imi canta ca sa adorm.&lt;br /&gt;toate acestea au fost copilaria mea, frumoasa, dar trista... ne ascundeam. acum e la fel. nimeni nu te cunoaste. nimeni nu stie cine esti cu adevarat. pentru ei sangele e acelasi cand porti masti ca si ei...&lt;br /&gt;nu stiu ce e viata!!! dar voi, ce ma acuzati in disperarea voastra si in luciditatea unui comportament josnic si superior credeti ca stiti?&lt;br /&gt;mi-e sila de voi....de mine ... de tot... mi-e rau de la voi!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in limitele bunului simt si a normalului firesc conceput de toti... iti dai seama ca in situatii de rara sensibilitate totul nu se intampla...el este imaginat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asta e pentru voi! sa ma puteti invidia pentru simplul fapt ca eu n-am trait ca voi, acuzatori de 2 bani!!!&lt;br /&gt;invatati sa va priviti in oglinda, nu chipul plin de riduri si cearcane ca nu dormiti, ci trecutul in adevartul sau sens... sa prindeti viata si sa nu mai alergati dupa materialitati cotidiene...pentru ca nu ele te fac om!!! iar voi pentru mine nu sunteti oameni!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[cu dedicatie pentru cei ce stiu ce e viata!!!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;rautatea din mine e acuta... boala o simt in orice bucata din mine... iar sentimentele pentru lume sunt spurcate...&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-8318871880496745446?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/8318871880496745446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=8318871880496745446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8318871880496745446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8318871880496745446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/02/d-e-d-i-c-t-i-e.html' title='D E D I C A T I E'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-8830647515840308141</id><published>2008-01-31T13:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T13:49:31.917-08:00</updated><title type='text'>o alta zi de joi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R6JCXocRgMI/AAAAAAAAABQ/5eAyCXa0TiU/s1600-h/eye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R6JCXocRgMI/AAAAAAAAABQ/5eAyCXa0TiU/s200/eye.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161761096680440002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Am amutit in lipsa ta....&lt;br /&gt;Una din propozitile ce servesc ca reper in zilele in care sunt singura. Pana la un moment dat plangeam dupa o pierdere, stiam ca dupa o anumita perioada de timp imi revenea si priveam totul ca fiind o alta experienta a ceea ce poate insemna iubirea si sentimentele. Atasamente, furnicaturi, zambete fugare, nervozitate, incredere sau neincredere, simpatii "de vara" si alte jocuri in care te prinzi si desi vezi ca nu ti se potrivesc ramai pana la limita bunului tau simt...dupa care dispari si te rupi.&lt;br /&gt;Acum... in situatia mea actuala, ma simt altfel. Totul e altfel, pana si respiratia mea in aceasta situatie. Ca tot a venit vorba de altfel, imi dau seama ca marea mea dorinta e sa nu raman cantonata in mediocritate si in obijnuinta societatii. Desi toti cautam unicul stilului de viata, ajungem sa ne imitam comportamentele, sa ne imitam ideile si sa cream comercialul care ne ofera mai mult decat o simpla saturatie a nevoilor. Nu cer nimanui sa se schimbe, pentru ca nu sunt ca sa schimb, ci tot ce imi doresc e sa nu ma mai simt constransa sau sufocata de regulile neintelese si urmate de mai toata lumea, cum ca ce e azi nu va fi si maine, si ce e azi conteaza ca sa fii acceptat.&lt;br /&gt;Prefer sa stau in apartamentul acesta provizoriu, intr-o camera plina cu lumanari si miros de scortisoara, cu un pat imens ce imi ocupa tot spatiul, decat sa ma vad in postura de a nu putea respira.&lt;br /&gt;Imi plac oamenii ce-mi ofera idei...la fel ca tipa ce face decoractiuni cu nasturi, la fel ca cel ce a creat mobila din sticla...&lt;br /&gt;Iar acum ca am rescris idea ca nu sunt in pas cu ceea ce se intampla in societate si ca nu sunt atat de comuna cum as putea parea... precizez faptul ca imi place fusta mea verde cand o port cu sacoul rosu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Altfel spus... nu sunt si nici nu creez un gen. Nu ma gasesc in stiluri de vestimentatie si nici nu vreau sa-mi definesc unul... pentru ca nu cred ca mi-ar cadea bine esarfa neagra cand eu doresc sa ma rasfat intr-o dimineata la soare... sper ca se intelege idea...sau macar nu se ignora...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maine dimineata trebuie sa fac curat. Desi azi-noapte am dormit cu geamul deschis pentru a putea respira... imi dau seama ca e prea mult praf in camera aceasta. Maine dimineata voi face curat... voi schimba asternuturile ce se prafuiesc la fiecare iesire pe balcon... prea mult praf in orasul acesta... si nu am masina de spalat hainele... Oricum... delicile vietii le savurez la fiecare pas, fie ele amare sau dulci..&lt;br /&gt;Ma dor mainile. S-au umflat si cand le adun le simt ca pe niste cremvusti... sangele pulseaza in stilul sau propriun...inchegant...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fiecare dimineata la ora 6 incep masinile sa faca zgomot. De la motoare bruiate, la motoare obosite ce nu pornesc la prima cheie, pana la clanxoane ca nevasta nu e gata, iar telefonia mobila nu e utilizata sau nu a ajuns pe masa lor. Dupa acea am placerea de a asculta cantecul "armonios" al pasarilor negre, ciorile, ce timp de cateva minute colinda zona si croncaie neincetat. Cateva minute liniste, dupa care masina de gunoi sau masinile de aprovizionare a buticurilor din parterele blocurilor si fac auzite bufniturile. Ore 8 sunt treaza si enervata de tot acest sir de bruiatii ale somnului. Uneori mai este si masina de gaurit a vecinului de sub mine... un stil obijnuit pentru multi dintre aceia, dar nu si pentru mine. Dimineata trebuie sa fie linistita si odihnitoare. Nu conteaza ca alergi la munca, ea trebuie sa aibe simplul fapt ca in sinele tau esti linistit... dar unele detalii din viata nu te lasa mereu sa ai ce doresti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu vreau sa vorbesc despre sufletul meu azi... e prea rau si nici sa se exprime nu poate... l-am lasat sa respire in amorteala...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-8830647515840308141?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/8830647515840308141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=8830647515840308141' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8830647515840308141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/8830647515840308141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/01/o-alta-zi-de-joi.html' title='o alta zi de joi'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R6JCXocRgMI/AAAAAAAAABQ/5eAyCXa0TiU/s72-c/eye.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-919138936668581146</id><published>2008-01-21T08:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T14:29:43.792-08:00</updated><title type='text'>de vorba cu Dumnezeu</title><content type='html'>care e miza vietii, Doamne?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ma simt pierduta, ma simt scapata, ma simt singura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spune-mi, Doamne, unde caut sa mai gasesc in mine forta sa nu devin nebuna?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de doua saptamani imi urasc starea de neOm si durerea ce ma distruge...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cand imi oferi si mie liniste si bine, Doamne? Cum joci tu itele si scenele... cum ma lasi sa ma pierd in negura de rau... cum ma lasi sa disper in culmea pierderii lui... cum ma faci sa mor incet in lipsa lui.... cum ma lasi fara respiratie, suflet si lacrimi ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;? ? ? ? ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa-ti povestesc:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m-am prins in atingeri, pe pielea acea fina si alba, ca a unui prunc nou-venit... am privit ochii aceia limpezi si inspaimantati cu linistea muta a sufletului meu mort... am inviat cand a soptit in noapte ca devin un inceput... m-am prins de trupul sau si am scris cu atingeri numele meu... sa-l simta si sa nu-l uite in alte atingeri straine... m-am lasat dezbracata ca un cadavru ce se vrea imbalsamat si mi-am stropsit trupul de el.. ca sa-mi simta mirosul crud de sange... am infipt unghile, am muscat cu pofta unui animal parti din el..ca sa-i simt sufletul infierbantat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;il pierd oare, Doamne?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mi-e frica, Doamne! iar ma paste singuratatea, nu? ma lasi sa-l pierd? daca eu m-am inchis in ascunzatoarea fricii de ce nu-mi areti tu drumul spre el?&lt;br /&gt;nu vreau sa-l pierd, Doamne!! si Tu sti mai bine ca oricine!!! nu vreau ca m-as rupe cu totul de data asta... as improsca peretii cu sangele cristalizat... as incremenii si m-as pietrifica... ca mai apoi sa crap in mii de prafuri... as deveni inexistenta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unde esti cand nu te vad si nu te simt?&lt;br /&gt;unde esti suflet ce m-ai rapit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/x8cYjPS_J-8&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/x8cYjPS_J-8&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[te iubesc]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-919138936668581146?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/919138936668581146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=919138936668581146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/919138936668581146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/919138936668581146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/01/de-vorba-cu-dumnezeu.html' title='de vorba cu Dumnezeu'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-6208152009973977893</id><published>2008-01-20T00:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T01:17:37.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Mi-e dor de mare. Din nou mi-e dor de mare! Cu cateva luni in urma, cu cateva anotimpuri in urma mi-am propus sa merg la mare... dar am renuntat la idee. Acum, in aceasta dimineata de duminica, imi dau seama ca imi lipseste mare. Imi lipseste linistea ei. Imaginea sa cand lipsa valurilor te incremeneste in fata ei si simti cum te contopesti in acelasi fundal de gri.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e dor de mare. De finetea nisipului. Mi-e dor sa fiu la mare, cand nu exista turisti, cand nu e nimeni pe faleza... doar eu si marea. Ma face sa uit... sa uit plansul, sa uit durerea ce se ascunde in mine, sa uit de tot si sa nu gandesc decat la infinit... si ma lasa sa o privesc... nu imi ofera valuri, nu se incrunta... ma lasa doar sa o privesc... imi povesteste.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e dor de mare. Ca imi povesteste asa cum eu povestesc altor persoane. Imi povesteste despre oameni, despre soare, despre luna, despre cer si alte maluri... imi povesteste cum ma asteapta... imi povesteste cat de trista e cand se inneaca in ploi...&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e dor de mare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am incercat... si mai incerc.&lt;br /&gt;In linistea zilelor si pustietatea cu care trec observ cum nimic nu se schimba fara o vointa. Am vrut, am incercat sa am. Dar nu mai stiu ce vreau. Zile intregi stau inchisa in aceasi stare de inconstienta. Fara nimic... doar eu. Nici ganduri nu am. Doar respir... doar numar... doar incremenesc. Nu stiu ce vreau.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M-am pierdut de curand in anotimpuri. Si mi-am dat seama ca nu-mi place niciunul. M-am pierdut de curand in sentimente si mi-am dat seama ca fiecare ma omoara. M-am pierdut de curand in realitate si mi-am dat seama ca eu nu mai sunt in stare sa fac parte din ea. Asa ca... ma afund in liniste. Multa liniste. Am nevoie de o odihna psihica. Da... deja e o necesitate. Asta daca nu doresc sa petrec cateva luni intr-un ospiciu... si eu nu-mi doresc asta. Am nevoie de o pauza de la tot...si de cateva luni, mai precis de un an, incet renunt la multe lucruri si nevoi ce ar face un tanar de varsta mea ok si mai mult decat ok.&lt;br /&gt;Am renuntat la bautura.&lt;br /&gt;Am renuntat la iesiri.&lt;br /&gt;Am renuntat la vise.&lt;br /&gt;Am renuntat la munca mea.&lt;br /&gt;Am renuntat la noptile albe.&lt;br /&gt;Am renuntat la a mai cheltui bani.&lt;br /&gt;Am renuntat la socializare.&lt;br /&gt;Si treptat renunt si la viata ce o mai detin.&lt;br /&gt;Ma desprind de tot incet...sigur si de neintors.&lt;br /&gt;Se observa...dar nu se intelege. De nimeni. Doar se uita uimiti spre mine si nu inteleg de ce ochii mei isi pierd din culoare, de ce continui sa merg spre nefiresc si sa nu ma trezesc panicata ci doar ignoranta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-am dat seama ca inima mea conteaza. Din acea dimineata in care o simteam in palme...cand mi-am dat seama ca viata mea atarna de un fir de ata... atunci am spus ca sensibilitatea mea s-a intetit cu un infinit...iar orice stare care imi pune in pericol viata o ignor...cat pot desigur, ca exista si situatii pe care nu le poti controla... altfel spus... am mai trecut printr-o stare ca in acea dimineata si am decis sa plec...&lt;br /&gt;Da, voi pleca...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XEUWFvT16f8&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XEUWFvT16f8&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-6208152009973977893?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/6208152009973977893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=6208152009973977893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/6208152009973977893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/6208152009973977893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/01/mi-e-dor-de-mare.html' title=''/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-5541392772196443414</id><published>2008-01-19T05:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T06:12:37.292-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doar o alta poveste despre cer si sentimente</title><content type='html'>Am indraznit sa ating cerul. Stateam intr-o seara rezamata de geam, incercam sa respir in timp ce priveam o luna pe cerul inchis. O priveam ca de fiecare data cand ma pierd in durere si hipnotizata incremenesc. Nu avea nimic special. Nu avea nimic nou. Nu era decat o alta privire aruncata spre ea. Nu simteam nimic special...era o alta incercare de a-mi imagina ca ea, luna, ma poate duce langa o anumita fiinta. Dar e doar imaginatia mea. Unele lucruri simple se uita, imediat dupa ce au fost spuse...&lt;br /&gt;Dar nu desprea asta vroiam sa dizertez...ci despre o alta forma.&lt;br /&gt;Cum atingi cerul? L-am simtit in palme. E rece. E fin. E plin de forme crude de respiratii. E o sticla pictata cu ceara.&lt;br /&gt;L-am avut in palme pentru o clipa. Miroase a verde crud de primavara. A inceput. Mereu un inceput...cred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unde sunt zilele alaturi de tine? Le-am pierdut in trecut...ca si filele unui roman ce il devorezi si in final uiti citatele ce te-au impresionat. Unde sunt lacrimile ce s-au scurs pe obraji? Le-am prins in aceleasi cearceafuri cu imprimeuri de nori... le-am uscat cu respiratii sufocate in plans... Unde sunt cuvintele auzite si pline de tonalitati increzatoare? Cred ca s-au scrijelit pe peretii caselor rurale, ce nu le cunoastem si nu le vom cunoaste... La fel cum pe zidurile unui oras sunt scrise cuvintele "Te iubesc Bitzi" si au vechime... cativa ani cred....oricum...sunt cuvinte ce intr-o anumita zi m-au facut sa ma opres din mers si sa rad cu gura pana la urechi...stiind ca Bitzi e si prietena mea cea mai buna....dar uneori cand trec pe acolo mi-l inchipui pe cel sau cea ce intr-o zi s-a gandit sa scrijeleasca peretii cu sentimentele sale....&lt;br /&gt;intr-o zi o sa cioplesc in lemn sentimentele ce le simt si eu....desi nu stiu sa cioplesc....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si cerul l-am atins cu sentimentele. Da. M-am ridicat la el cu sentimente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu am mai scris de o vreme. Dar azi...in limitele minutelor ma straduiesc sa mai scriu ceva din mine... sa mai arunc pe niste pagini alte cuvinte si alte cifre...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu iubesc matematica. Nu iubesc literatura. Iubesc doar art lor de a se transforma in stiinte...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne straduim uneori atat de mult si in final ne dam seama ca totul e atat de simplu...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-5541392772196443414?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/5541392772196443414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=5541392772196443414' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/5541392772196443414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/5541392772196443414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/01/doar-o-alta-poveste-despre-cer-si.html' title='Doar o alta poveste despre cer si sentimente'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-153339944665690059</id><published>2008-01-06T08:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T08:23:56.833-08:00</updated><title type='text'>romance and cigarettes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R4EAkvgwfOI/AAAAAAAAABI/TX1MXKANMbg/s1600-h/P9189343.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R4EAkvgwfOI/AAAAAAAAABI/TX1MXKANMbg/s200/P9189343.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152400079917710562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where you will be when the smoke clears?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-153339944665690059?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/153339944665690059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=153339944665690059' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/153339944665690059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/153339944665690059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/01/romance-and-cigarettes.html' title='romance and cigarettes'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R4EAkvgwfOI/AAAAAAAAABI/TX1MXKANMbg/s72-c/P9189343.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-1774261297985166649</id><published>2008-01-03T08:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T08:34:52.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...povestea a luat sfarsit...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R30Oo_gwfNI/AAAAAAAAABA/3tIJE1PRBig/s1600-h/PC291943.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R30Oo_gwfNI/AAAAAAAAABA/3tIJE1PRBig/s200/PC291943.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151289646188100818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Viata nu e o buna decizie de a spera"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un nou status in viata mea. O noua concluzie asupra vietii!&lt;br /&gt;Ce mai conteaza ce visezi? Ce mai conteaza cand visezi? Daca nu ti se ofera fapte...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ce dracu sa-mi mai pese de altii daca singura persoana de care imi pasa ma lasa balta? De ce dracu sa mai cred in cineva daca vorbele sale se sterg cu un "niciodata"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asa sa terminat povestea noastra, eu raugandu-te sa ai grija de cineva care pentru o multa vreme de timp ti-a fost alaturi si tu condamnandu-ma pentru un gest...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu mai conteaza... nimic ce e frumos nu tine o vesnicie! Si asta stiam de cand am avut intentia de a te saruta! Si asta am realizat in momentul cand am crezut ca pot da nastere cuiva! Asta am realizat cand ti-ai dat arama pe fata!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viata e un mijloc de a incerca sa ajungi la moarte... acum imi doresc un timp al faptelor murdare!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-1774261297985166649?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/1774261297985166649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=1774261297985166649' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/1774261297985166649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/1774261297985166649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2008/01/povestea-luat-sfarsit.html' title='...povestea a luat sfarsit...'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R30Oo_gwfNI/AAAAAAAAABA/3tIJE1PRBig/s72-c/PC291943.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-3159403097570460249</id><published>2007-12-19T23:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T00:32:39.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>nebunie dusa la disperare crunta</title><content type='html'>1+1 = ??!!!??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se pare ca Barbu avea dreptate, dar azi indraznesc sa adaug ca matematica se termina acolo unde intervine sentimentul!&lt;br /&gt;Si sa ridice mana sus cei ce ma contrazic, sa le demonstrez cum fractiile si parantezele nu prind viata... sa le arat ca prima adunare invatata vreodata are posibilitatea unei realitati... prin alt rezultat si o alta realitate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merg pana la nebunia crunta si afirm... AM OMORAT UN INGER!&lt;br /&gt;Asta e afirmatia ce mi-a definit dimineata... Am inchis existenta intr-o pastila. [cat de prostesc si idiot suna... si pe fata mea se afiseaza un zambet "tamp"*]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma uit la mainile mele si nu le simt. Ma uit la mine si nu ma vad. Ma uit in camera asta si nu observ nimic. Oare sunt oarba sau .... sau nici nu mai sunt? ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acum citesc despre fantastic. Despre ireal si real. Despre imaginar si formele sale in suflete... Dar de ce? Nu stiu...&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e dor de literatura. Mi-e dor de critica. Mi-e dor de cuvinte si de scrieri! Mi-e dor de vieti cu creion in mana, radiere si foi imprastiate pe pereti... Ce viata duceam odata! Ce liniste era! Ce simplu era sa iau un creion si sa transform o foaie alba in ceva de neinchipuit... Dar... cum se spune! Visele ti le implinesti singur... iar eu am renuntat la ele. Oare cum ar fi fost daca as fi fost?! Dar nu e! Cum spune bunica. Daca ai fost las nu ai. Daca ai ales drumul cel usor, nu e. Daca pleci capul cand nu trebuie, nu deti! Si azi ma intreb de ce dracu am plecat si m-am schimbat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Privesc in urma mea si nu observ nimic... nu vad sentimente, nu vad amintiri, nu vad cuvinte. E doar o linie neagra, trasata peste toate chipurile ce le-as fi iubit atunci. Nu mai exista nimic. Nici remuscari, nici mila, nici sentimente, nici vorbe, nici soapte... sunteti doar niste fantome ce nu mai trezesc nimic in mine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indraznesc sa-mi anim sufletul pana la concluzia ca albul poate deveni negru. Ca adevarul poate deveni minciuna. Ca singuratatea un loc bun de a convietui cu un altcineva... dar... nici aceste concluzii nu imi spun nimic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lipsa mea nu se datoreaza unor amintiri, nu se datoreaza unor obiecte, nu se datoreaza unor cuvinte auzite candva, nu se datoreaza materialitatii... e o lipsa a unei parti din tine... a unei simple potriviri de piese... a unor miscari de intrepatrundere corecte... a mirosurilor din piele...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Ma enervez! Punct.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* - citez&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-3159403097570460249?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/3159403097570460249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=3159403097570460249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3159403097570460249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3159403097570460249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2007/12/nebunie-dusa-la-disperare-crunta.html' title='nebunie dusa la disperare crunta'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-3687638634229376952</id><published>2007-12-19T12:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T12:49:25.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>|| moARTe ||</title><content type='html'>Cum sa te numesc sentiment nou nascut? Cum sa te privesc? In ce sa te imaginez?&lt;br /&gt;Aer nu ai. Chipul nu ti-l cunosc. Atingerile sunt prea parsive si inteapa adanc in trup. Iar fruntea mea se lasa pe calcaiele spatelui intepenit.&lt;br /&gt;Prinsa in neguri nemarginite de ganduri mizerabile si atitudini marsave ... ma condamn, azi, la moarte.&lt;br /&gt;As vrea sa mor, cu trupul asta prins in catuse de realitate... As vrea sa simt fiecare bucata din mine cum arde... As vrea sa am puterea sa tai din mine si sa arunc carnea corbilor flamanzi... ce ma pandesc in zarea alba de zapada...&lt;br /&gt;Sunt prea sus sau prea jos ca sa mai gandesc spre bine. Sunt prea in stanga sau prea in dreapta ca sa nu mai pacatuiesc. Sunt un monstru sau o fecioara... dar prea putin umana.&lt;br /&gt;Ma simt goala. Ma simt departe. Ma simt desprinsa... si imi doresc sa inchid ochii... Sunt doar o alta drogata!&lt;br /&gt;Povestile le scriem cu amar de cele mai multe ori. Visele le traim atat de des cat ne dorim. Iubirea o simtim in noi... intre noi doi, ca o petala fina a unei flori ce nu moare. Iubirea o inchidem intre trupurile noastre, ii oferim lumina prin privirile noastre si viata prin atingerile ... atingerile prinse in patima daruintei...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iubesc un trup interzis in orice carte ... in orice religie.&lt;br /&gt;Iubesc o fiinta ce vesmant imi este...&lt;br /&gt;Iubesc o privire ce-mi sopteste... cuvinte si...&lt;br /&gt;Iubesc pe tine... desi iubirea asta nu se prinde in calcule matematice sau in sarutari date... e iubirea cand te simt aproape desi tu esti departe...&lt;br /&gt;Iubesc mirosul tau ce mi-a ramas in piele, chiar daca am facut baie.&lt;br /&gt;Iubesc umerii tai, coapsele tale, pieptul tau cand le prind in aroma atingerilor noastre...&lt;br /&gt;Iubesc mintea ta si gandul nebun, iubesc fiecare privire fugara ce o arunci spre mine, iubesc simplitatea noastra...iubesc prima noastra oglindire intre cearceafurile albe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desi innebunesc incet... desi ajung in pragul disperarii... desi ma gandesc la acest TOT... desi incerc sa desprind dintre nori sperante ... nu pot ajunge la alte finaluri decat acestea: vreau....te vreau... "ne" vreau... over and over again ... fara final, cunoscut sau necunoscut... sa nu fie final!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[si filmul merge mai departe. si piesa se joaca pe aceasi scena. si eu sunt nebuna in continuare....fara scapare!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------*---------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E doar o alta stare de rau.&lt;br /&gt;O alta stare in care ma simt mancata si omorata de propria-mi boala.&lt;br /&gt;E doar o alta clipa ce trece... trece mai departe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si simt ca in tine mai am o scapare...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[pentru un moment din ziua de 19 decembrie 2007 - orele 21.25 sunt o scapare?! -]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/d057smc0MDI&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/d057smc0MDI&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-3687638634229376952?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/3687638634229376952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=3687638634229376952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3687638634229376952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3687638634229376952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2007/12/moarte.html' title='|| moARTe ||'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-4448061540723866172</id><published>2007-12-11T23:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T23:32:24.970-08:00</updated><title type='text'>decembrie</title><content type='html'>... dimineata de decembrie ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M-am trezit stiind ca am prins un tren in vis... un tren ce venea din nicaieri si ducea nicaieri... un tren plin si la fel de gol... fara bilete si nas... doar un tren, cu roti, ce ducea spre oriunde...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uitandu-ma in dreapta am vazut un gol... nu mai era nimeni... si am inchis ochii...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cum ar fi aratat Dumnezeu daca ar fi fost unul dintre noi? Si ce i-am fi cerut daca am avea o singura dorinta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oamenii ma intreaba de ce nu mai zambesc si de ce sunt cum sunt... Oamenii ma privesc si vor sa vada sclipiri de fericire in ochi... sa vada zambete si sa fiu asa cum eram... Dar ei nu inteleg... nu inteleg ca toate acestea ti le-am dat tie cand ai plecat. Ti-am varat in buzunare si in piele partea din mine ce face frumoasa fiinta umana. Ti-am dat-o tie ca sa nu ma uiti... sa nu uiti pielea si ochii ce te-au priviti in atingeri ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asternuturile si-au pierdut mirosul... casa asta e goala... zidurile s-au inchis, iar stelele de pe cerul meu nu mai stralucesc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pustiul din mine se oglindeste in pustiul din casa... si acum imi doresc sa prind trenul ce ma duce spre o casa, spre o viata, spre casa din viata ce o numesc "acasa"... mai aproape, mai respirabil, mai de trait...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unde este "acasa"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu vreau sa pierd&lt;br /&gt;Sa pierd fiinta&lt;br /&gt;Fiinta din tine&lt;br /&gt;Un tine cu gust&lt;br /&gt;Gust de fericire&lt;br /&gt;O fericire din tot&lt;br /&gt;Un tot al nostru&lt;br /&gt;Un noi ce formam&lt;br /&gt;Formam un unu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Buna dimineata, my lovely"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Epow4VXhnW0&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Epow4VXhnW0&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-4448061540723866172?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/4448061540723866172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=4448061540723866172' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/4448061540723866172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/4448061540723866172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2007/12/decembrie.html' title='decembrie'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-4270160058943626174</id><published>2007-11-24T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T16:55:48.671-08:00</updated><title type='text'>... tarziu ... si fara scapare ...</title><content type='html'>Clipesc atat de rar...doar ca sa nu-ti uit privirea...&lt;br /&gt;Soptesc atat de des... doar ca sa-mi auzi uimirea...&lt;br /&gt;Traiesc atat de incet... doar ca sa-mi simti trairea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pot numi acest timp ce-l ating cu mainiele si cu pleoapele, un timp al mortii? Al mortii noastre? pot oare sa nu mai gandesc si sa trec peste? Pot oare sa scot din mine fiecare zambete ce mi l-ai adus? Pot oare sa uit cuvintele ce le inchipuiam soptite, in fiecare dimineata? Pot sa uit ultimele ore traite in teroarea declansata de un simplu telefon?&lt;br /&gt;Pot oare? Pot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu, ca un neclintit obiect... tu, ca un simplu suras umplut cu amar... tu, ca o petala desprinsa din piedestal... tu, un copil pierdut... tu, nestralucit soare...&lt;br /&gt;Tu, doar tu...pierdut, atins, gasit si mangaiat apus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O noapte si o zi&lt;br /&gt;O viata si o moarte&lt;br /&gt;O clipa si o stare&lt;br /&gt;Un cuvant si o tacere&lt;br /&gt;S-au unit in noapte&lt;br /&gt;Sa piarda din noi timpul&lt;br /&gt;si sangele ce curge&lt;br /&gt;Ca viata sa ne-o opreasca&lt;br /&gt;in loc...&lt;br /&gt;pentru un simplu&lt;br /&gt;sarut&lt;br /&gt;In care viata noastra&lt;br /&gt;sa se pietrifice&lt;br /&gt;in clipe&lt;br /&gt;in strari&lt;br /&gt;in zile numarate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amar ce esti,&lt;br /&gt;pierdut in criza timpului&lt;br /&gt;ai uitat&lt;br /&gt;de prima mea&lt;br /&gt;atingere&lt;br /&gt;de prima mea&lt;br /&gt;strigare&lt;br /&gt;de prima mea&lt;br /&gt;imbratisare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si pe tonuri de gri&lt;br /&gt;se prabusesc in maini&lt;br /&gt;clipe marunte si&lt;br /&gt;vise&lt;br /&gt;lacrimi ce sangeriu&lt;br /&gt;se preling&lt;br /&gt;pe gatejul&lt;br /&gt;si&lt;br /&gt;sanii lipsiti&lt;br /&gt;de haine&lt;br /&gt;Dezgolita ma numesc&lt;br /&gt;si ma gasesc&lt;br /&gt;in noapte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As vrea sa iert...&lt;br /&gt;As vrea sa trec...&lt;br /&gt;Dar nu pot uita ca in mine e o inima, o inima ce poarta un suflet, care la randul sau poarta esenta mea. Nu ma pot uita... cum nici pe tine nu te pot uita, azi... asa cum a vrut ea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma simt pierduta! Ma simt goala! Ma simt la nelocul meu! Ma simt ... departe de ceea ce ne aducea aproape...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si cui ii mai pasa la aceasta ora ca din mine se scurg lacrimi... ca caderea lor are ecou in mine si in lumea mea??!! Cui? Cui ii pasa ca urmele nu se sterg si ca timpul intarzaie mereu...?? Tie? Tu care ai stiut sa pleci...?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ti-am spus povestea unui clown? Well..asculta si imagineaza:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Un om isi programeaza o intalnire la un psiholog. Se prezinta la data stabilita in cabinetul doctorului si ii spune despre problema pe care o are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Doctore, mereu sunt deprimat. Indiferent ce as face tot nu pot sa scap de depresii. Nu mai stiu ce sa fac. Ma poti ajuta ?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psihologul il priveste atent si ii spune: “Vino cu mine la fereastra”. Omul il urmeaza la fereastra, iar psihologul ii spune:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Vezi cortul acela de acolo ? Ei, acela este cortul unui circ vestit care tocmai a ajuns in oras. Au multe numere foarte interesante, in special cele ale unui clovn. Am auzit ca acest clovn este foarte amuzant si ii face pe toti sa rada mult. Sunt sigur ca acest clovn prin glumele lui te va face sa razi si sa te simti bine si astfel o sa uiti de depresia ta”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Omul se intoarce catre psiholog si ii spune:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Doctore, eu sunt acel clovn”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stii de ce au clownii nasul mare si rosu? pt ca atunci cand plangi ti se inroseste si ti se irita nasul, la fel intamplandu-se in momentul cand minti,caci ei se mint adesea singuri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ce au vesnic desenat pe chip un zambet larg si lacrimi pictate in jurul ochilor ?pentru ca uneori doar aparent zambesc cand defapt plang…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ce poarta la suprafata haine viu colorate…?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pentru ca in suflet poarta doliu…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doresc sa uit...desi nu pot...&lt;br /&gt;Doresc sa scot din mine vibratile ce ma duc spre ceea ce numesc umanitate...dar nu pot...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma inchid intre paranteze... e deja tarziu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/15a9YIt6aJs&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/15a9YIt6aJs&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-4270160058943626174?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/4270160058943626174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=4270160058943626174' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/4270160058943626174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/4270160058943626174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2007/11/tarziu-si-fara-scapare.html' title='... tarziu ... si fara scapare ...'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-6065241709927472374</id><published>2007-11-22T15:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T15:39:46.698-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Primul dar</title><content type='html'>Ssshhh... incet... vreau sa-ti soptesc... adanc in suflet, de neatins, cuvinte neauzite... ssshhhh... asculta, cu inima, ingerule!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Departe, acolo in noapte, dansez. Dansez cu inima, cu sufletul, cu fericirea din mine, cu tristetea ce e compatibila cu sangele ce-mi curge prin vene, dansez... departe, in noapte, ca atunci cand eram la inceput.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O noapte de 22 noiembrie ce mi-a placut. A fost pe sufletul meu. A fost pe nesimtite eterna, in muzica, in vibratii de chitari, eterna in mine. Pentru 21 de ani ce-i voi implini in prima zi lui decembrie! La multi ani mie! La multi ani mie, pentru ca merit! Merit sa pot sa fiu fericita. Si nu fericita ca avea pe cineva langa mine, ci fericita ca pot sa aleg, ca pot sa zambesc, ca pot sa imbratisez fiecare pasiune ce ma sageteaza, fiecare gand ce-l doresc realizat. Sunt fericita!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un concert atat de extraordinar! Un concert atat de fulgerator! Un concert atat de selectiv!&lt;br /&gt;Nu i-am ascultat din fata unei scene. Nu am apucat sa-i aud live. Dar asta a fost pana azi, cand asezata la prima masa din fata scenei, aprope de ei, aprope de privirile lor, de glasul si respiratia lor, le-am cunoscut muzica. Sunt din 1991, dar abia azi am apucat sa-i vad fata in fata! Doar azi am putut sa-i ascult cu adevarat!&lt;br /&gt;Ei sunt Directia 5! Au cantat in aceasta seara aproape de mine! Au cantat fara a cunoaste marele dar ce mi-l ofera! Au cantat pentru mine, pentru ca in seara aceasta mi-am oferit primul dar pentru cei 21 de ani ce-i implinesc la 1 decembrie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Va multumesc! Va respect si ne vom revedea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acum tie, celui ce-ti vorbesc aculta... priveste... gandeste... si nu uita... undeva, in noapte, tarziu, cineva danseaza... cineva iubeste... cineva gandeste la tine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NnXKfAEzmJ0&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NnXKfAEzmJ0&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-6065241709927472374?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/6065241709927472374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=6065241709927472374' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/6065241709927472374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/6065241709927472374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2007/11/primul-dar.html' title='Primul dar'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-6120660995973021139</id><published>2007-11-20T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T13:15:17.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pentru noaptea dintre 19 si 20 noiembrie, 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R0NNvr7i6tI/AAAAAAAAAA4/qq8YvPyzqPY/s1600-h/ioana5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R0NNvr7i6tI/AAAAAAAAAA4/qq8YvPyzqPY/s200/ioana5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135033481774164690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand luna se ascunde printre nori... eu o privesc de jos si-i urez "noapte buna".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---___---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e dor sa plec din nou.&lt;br /&gt;Sa plec si sa ajung in locuri ce ma imbratiseaza cu caldura.&lt;br /&gt;Oare mereu va fi la fel? Acolo unde nu e nimic e tot?&lt;br /&gt;Oare ar trebui sa mai continui sa ma mai gandesc la specificul lui ceva?&lt;br /&gt;Oare ar trebui sa adorm?&lt;br /&gt;Fiecare noapte isi are linistea ei. Si la fiecare doua nopti moare un suflet de femeie, fiindca trupul ii cedeaza in bataia barbatului. La fiecare clipa se naste o fiinta ce probabil va avea aceasi soarta. La fiecare minut ma sageteaza gandul ca un individ cu deficiente poate sa aiba o criza si sa agreseze, fiind nesupravegheat. La fiecare ora ma cuprinde groaza gandului ca in lumea asta sunt zeci de locuri unde un copil moare de foame. La fiecare ceas ce trece mintea mea e plina de neputinta psihica de a putea decide ceva. Rabdarea imi ramane prietena...stiind ca intr-o zi voi ajunge sa imi linistesc freamatele.&lt;br /&gt;De ce nu m-as gandi la faptul ca blugii mei de 300 de ron s-au rupt in seara asta?&lt;br /&gt;De ce nu ma preocupa gandul ca rochita cumparata nu mi se potriveste?&lt;br /&gt;De ce nu ma preocupa noile parfumuri aparute pe piata?&lt;br /&gt;De ce nu citesc Cosmopolitan sau Joy?&lt;br /&gt;De ce nu gasesc in mine preocuparile majoritatii: solar, cafele, tigari Virginia Slims, ochelari D&amp;amp;G sau plimbari cu masina noului tip venit din Italia?&lt;br /&gt;De ce eu visez sa plec din tara, sa ma ocup de spionaj?&lt;br /&gt;De ce eu ma preocup de combaterea violentei asupra victimelor acestora...cand imi dau seama ca ele ofera sansa de a se "promova si implementa"&lt;br /&gt;mentalitatea violentei?&lt;br /&gt;De ce adorm noaptea cu gandul ca maine e un alt pas spre visul de a ajuta pe cineva si nu ma gandesc cum sa fac rost de bani pentru o pereche de pantofi?&lt;br /&gt;De ce? Si de ce exista "de ce"-ul acesta in mine?&lt;br /&gt;E tarziu. Ca de fiecare data. Si poate nu dau importanta acestor "istorii" ce se risipesc in ziua imediat urmatoare.&lt;br /&gt;Cu siguranta tot la al 3lea numar al revistei cosmopolitene va fi un articol ce iti va aduce aminte de cel din editia trecuta. Si cu siguranta pantofii din revista ii voi vedea la una dintre colegele de la faculta. Si cu siguranta stirea ca la doua zile o femeie moare o voi gasi doar in niste statistici nepublicate de Politia Romana, doar din simplul fapt ca nu fac obiectul "actualului".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e rau. Mi-e scarba. De ce anume? Inca nu pot defini... dar stiu cu siguranta ca vine din indiferenta si amagirea oamenilor ce-i privesc mereu si mereu in drumul meu spre diferite locatii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oare si indiferenta mea e de vina?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noapte buna celor ce nu dorm inca si somn usor celor ce au inchisi ochii...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WMiSiTcz5lo&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WMiSiTcz5lo&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-6120660995973021139?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/6120660995973021139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=6120660995973021139' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/6120660995973021139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/6120660995973021139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2007/11/pentru-noaptea-dintre-19-si-20.html' title='Pentru noaptea dintre 19 si 20 noiembrie, 2007'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/R0NNvr7i6tI/AAAAAAAAAA4/qq8YvPyzqPY/s72-c/ioana5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-3718777618036048360</id><published>2007-07-21T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T09:59:08.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...acolo unde ma sfarsesc eu incepi tu ....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/RqI6y_kRwRI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tG31YoWfH4I/s1600-h/IMG_2526.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 114px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/RqI6y_kRwRI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tG31YoWfH4I/s320/IMG_2526.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089695176613544210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intre culori ce scriu pe pereti&lt;br /&gt;cifre intortocheate&lt;br /&gt;cu raspunsuri gresite si egaluri nesfarsite,&lt;br /&gt;Intre ceasuri ce ticaie o ora absurda&lt;br /&gt;prins in ace ce ruginesc amar,&lt;br /&gt;Acolo se naste privirea tacuta&lt;br /&gt;ce nu stie sa aibe glasul murdar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O preoteasa isi plange mortul in vis&lt;br /&gt;ca slujba nu are cine-o sluji.&lt;br /&gt;Un Dumnezeu prins in tacere&lt;br /&gt;nu are puterea sa rupa&lt;br /&gt;un zid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cu miros de mucegai ma inchid&lt;br /&gt;in fiecare seara de vara.&lt;br /&gt;Iar dimineata cand apusul e vis&lt;br /&gt;vad mustele cum putrezesc afara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o poveste despre un timp&lt;br /&gt;de azi,&lt;br /&gt;In care totul e fantezie.&lt;br /&gt;Fara pic de iubire in grai&lt;br /&gt;Urlu la Dumnezeul amar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am inceput sa sper in tine,&lt;br /&gt;Tu, un suflet minunat,&lt;br /&gt;Dar te-ai ruinat in nestire&lt;br /&gt;si azi ai sufletul murdar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ingeri. Demoni. Oameni.&lt;br /&gt;Indivizi obseceni pe drumuri&lt;br /&gt;ce va plimbati&lt;br /&gt;si nu mai cantati.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E punct abrupt&lt;br /&gt;nesfarsitul in sine.&lt;br /&gt;Dar stiu ca am sa ma gat...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-3718777618036048360?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/3718777618036048360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=3718777618036048360' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3718777618036048360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/3718777618036048360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2007/07/acolo-unde-ma-sfarsesc-eu-incepi-tu.html' title='...acolo unde ma sfarsesc eu incepi tu ....'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/RqI6y_kRwRI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tG31YoWfH4I/s72-c/IMG_2526.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-6115204506382137957</id><published>2007-05-26T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T14:47:22.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>cuvant spatiu punct ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="content-wrapper"&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Liniste intre note de pian.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Azi, dupa o vreme de absenta intre cuvinte pentru mine, am explodat in fulgere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Am descoperit ca un pian ma linisteste, ma calmeaza dupa o lunga perioada de cautari a ceva pentru liniste. O liniste stinsa, cu ganduri smulse in tacere, cu exploxii interioare, cu lacrimi oprite pe genele ochilor, cu nasul rosu de la prea multe batistute, cu mainile prinse la gat pentru a ma feri de sinucigasi, cu pielea palida, cu creioane ce au varfurile rupte, cu plecari bruste, cu suspansuri si puncte puncte prea multe intre noi... trebuie sa invat sa accept sau sa refuz ceea ce nu imi convine. Sa nu mai fiu copilul tembel si rasfatat de toata lumea. Trebuie sa invat sa scriu si sa vorbesc la fel de frumos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Dialoguri cu un suflet pierdut in aer:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Eram pe acelasi drum, cu aceasi destinatie, cu acelasi subiect in minte... o mana frageda, cu trasaturi masive si nuante palide, mi-a intins mana din lateral. Si-a facut simtita prezenta vizibil. In urma cu cateva zile, in timp ce apa imi spala trupul de murdariile realitatii am simti o prezenta in jurul meu. A trecut, lasand doar o umbra, cat sa simt ca e acolo. A lasat un miros al prezentei ce se imbiba in cerneala fricii si a nelinistii...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Am lasat balta intamplarea, am lasat deoparte ca in urma cu cativa ani le puteam simti prezenta in jurul meu si a altor persoane, ca le vedeam atat de aproape de mine...ca ma ingrijeau mereu si mereu... Intr-o zi m-am trezit si le-am ignorat total... le-am eliminat ca un tiran din viata si am refuzat sa mai cred in prezentele lor... dar dupa atata vreme au revenit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;A durat atat de putin revederea, a durat trei zile... cat sa ma puna pe ganduri. Ii povesteam unui prieten ca i-am simtit prezenta si ca am ignorat-o... a doua zi n-am mai aflat nimic, a disparut. Mereu spun ca daca divulg lucrurile in care cred cel mai mult, ele dispar. Sunetul si cuvantul spus le dizolva din viata mea, le pietrifica in cuvinte spuse si uitate... le inchide intr-un geam de sticla pentru vid... Si asa a disparut prezenta sa.. a disparut fara sa mai apara vreodata... Totusi... acum doua nopti m-a adormit cum imi place mie sa adorm – mangaiata pe mana de respiratie... mi-a suflat pana la vis pe mana...ca in vremurile vechi, ca in fiecare seara ce am reusit sa o stric pentru necredinta mea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Mi-e dor de visare, de prezente, de somn lin... mi-e dor ca sa-mi revin din neputinta... din nervozitate... din boala....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;„Azi-noapte erai umana, erai calda ca o adiere de vant de primavara” .... „mmm”(ffiiiuuuu).... „Sa iei chipul meu data viitoare si sper sa nu fi vreo coincidenta prea mare...inuman-o”... „apropiete de tavanul lor”... liniste.... de o moarte prea fina sa fie simtita....o adiere de vant ma adoarme in noapte....se pierde departe.... mi-e foame de moarte...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-6115204506382137957?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/6115204506382137957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=6115204506382137957' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/6115204506382137957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/6115204506382137957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2007/05/cuvant-spatiu-punct.html' title='cuvant spatiu punct ...'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-226923843375552129</id><published>2007-04-30T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T12:21:30.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is human chip implant wave of the future?</title><content type='html'>Acesta este titlul unui articol de pe website-ul CNN.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si asa continua:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;font-size:78%;"&gt;anuary 14, 1999&lt;br /&gt; Web posted at: 3:21 p.m. EST (2021 GMT)&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;!--/date--&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;by Sam Witt &lt;/em&gt;   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; (IDG) -- Is the human body a fit place for a  microchip? The debate is no longer hypothetical. The same computing  power that once required an entire building to harness now can be  inserted in your left arm.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Better yet, somebody else's left arm.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Professor Kevin Warwick, director of cybernetics at the University of  Reading in the U.K., is that somebody else. On Monday, Aug. 24,  1998, Warwick became the first human to host a microchip. During a  20-minute medical procedure described as "a routine silicon-chip  implant" by Dr. George Boulos, who led the operation, doctors inserted  into Warwick's arm a glass capsule not much bigger than a pearl. The  capsule holds several microprocessors.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  The British Broadcasting Corp. was on hand to document the historic  event - and to trouble the professor's already frayed nerves. "In  theory, I was able to see what was going on," Warwick says in a  phone interview several days after the operation (which he described  as slightly more pleasant than a trip to the dentist), "but I was  looking in the opposite direction most of the time."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Although Warwick winces at the comparison, Boulos likens him to a  latter-day Edward Jenner, who injected himself with cowpox in 1776  to further his research into a smallpox vaccine.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  "The doctor pinched the skin and lifted  it up and sort of burrowed a hole . . .  underneath the skin and on top of the  muscle," Warwick says. "It's well inside  my body, in my left arm, just above my  elbow. [It's] held in place by three  stitches - partly so that the wound is  held together, but also so that the  capsule doesn't float around anywhere."  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Though he declines to reveal the chip's  manufacturer, Warwick did disclose that it's a "commercial" product.  "For obvious reasons, both positive and negative, they didn't want us  shouting about what the name of the exact product was," he says.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  The approximately 23mm-by-3mm device stayed in Warwick's arm for  only nine days - partly to avoid medical complications, partly  because it was fairly limited in power. "Half of it is an electric coil,"  Warwick says, "and half is a number of silicon chips." The chips used  only eight of an available 64 bits of information to communicate with  the University of Reading's intelligent building.    &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Which brings us to the question: Why?   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Warwick has spent more than 20 years researching and developing  intelligent buildings. "In our building in the Cybernetics department,  we've got quite a number of doorways rigged up so that they pass a  radio signal between the door frame," he says. "When I go through  the doorways, the radio signal energizes the coil. It produces an  electric current, which the chips use to send out an identifying signal,  which the computer recognizes as being me."   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  And so, for a little better than a week, doors that normally require  smart cards swung open for the professor. A system of electronic  nodes tracked his movements throughout the building. Lights blinked  on when he entered a room.   &lt;/p&gt;  "Hello, Professor Warwick," his PC announced when Warwick crossed  the threshold of his office, before casually mentioning how many  E-mail messages he had received. It also was reported that Warwick  used the device to run a bath and chill his wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;  How did he like it? "In my building I feel much more powerful, in a  mental way," Warwick says. "Not at one with the computer, but  much, much closer. We're not separate. It's not as though we're good  friends or anything. But certainly when I'm out of the building, I feel  as though part of me is missing."   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Asked if he named his chip, Warwick laughs. "I don't see it as a  separate thing," he says. "It's like an arm or a leg."   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Warwick's family was a little slower than  his body to accept the chip. "My wife  finds it really strange," he says. "She  didn't want to go near my arm for a  couple of days. It was as though I had  some funny disease." His 16-year-old  daughter reportedly called him "crazy."   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  And the day after the operation,  Warwick played a game of squash with  his son, but not before issuing a stern  warning: "Whatever you do, don't hit  my arm. The implant could just shatter,  and you'll have ruined your father's arm  for life."   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  &lt;b&gt;Real-world applications&lt;/b&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Though the experiment sounds like an  episode of Dr. Who, its real-world  implications are "right around the  corner," says Warwick, who foresees  enormous medical applications. Through  a system of embedded chips interfacing  with an artificial motor system, Warwick  imagines paraplegics walking. And that's  just for starters.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  "Simply take measurements off muscles  and tendons and feed them into the  transponder," Warwick says. "That  means, ultimately, that you wouldn't  need a computer mouse anymore. You  wouldn't need a keyboard."   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Charles Ostman, a senior fellow at the Institute for Global Futures and  science editor at Mondo 2000, agrees. "Neuroprosthetics are . . .  inevitable," he says. "Biochip implants may become part of a rote  medical procedure. After that, interface with outside systems is a  logical next step."   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Warwick's eagerness is palpable, engaging, contagious. "This is where  you can speculate," he says. "This is where we take a technical thing  and say, 'Right-o, got the signal, got the implant; all I've got to do is  run a wire from the implant to my nervous system.' . . . I'm so excited  about it, I want to get on with the next step straight away. Let's see  if we can control computers directly from our nervous system."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.......&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;........&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;..........&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.................&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;...........................&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;..................................&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.............................................&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;......................................................&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I want another life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-226923843375552129?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/226923843375552129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=226923843375552129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/226923843375552129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/226923843375552129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2007/04/is-human-chip-implant-wave-of-future.html' title='Is human chip implant wave of the future?'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-2539147553645072391</id><published>2007-04-30T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T10:44:05.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emancipare in viata mea!</title><content type='html'>Te uiti in jurul tau, sticle sparte din marile panouri cu reclame pentru parfumuri, lenjerie, ciocolata, tigari, masini sau telefoane mobile... asa apar oamenii. Pic cu pic aparem si noi o copie a revistei in culorile curcubeului.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emancipata! Ce inseamna sa fii emancipata? Ce inseamna sa fii o femeie moderna? Ce inseamna sa poti fi inteligenta? Ce inseamna sa fii frumoasa? Sa lasam sa ne guverneze in continuare prejudecata ca "O femeie inteligenta nu e frumoasa"? Sa acceptam in continuare afirmatile de genul "La cratita cu tine!"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azi am aflat ce i-a spus bunicul mamei mele "Sa nu vii inainte de 20 de ani ca vrei sa te mariti!" cand la acea vreme fetele erau deja maritate si cu copii. M-am bucurat pentru ca ai mei imi spun ca dupa 25 de ani catre 30 de ani sa-mi fac familia. Sa fie oare acest stil de viata al unei femei emancipate? Sa fiu crescuta oare in acest spirit? Sa imi acuz parintii pentru ca m-au crescut cu spiritul omului independent? Sa-i acuz pentru ca m-au lasat sa vad ce inseamna sa te descurci cu o harta in brate si niste bani intr-un oras necunoscut pana atunci? Sa ii acuz ca m-au invatat ca prin respect poti castiga mai multe decat prin jigniri? Sa-i acuz ca m-au scos in locuri necautate si neinteresante pentru majoritatea? Sa-i acuz ca mi-au format un stil de viata liber? Sa-i acuz ca imi ofera calitate si nu cantitate? Sa-i acuz ca m-au lasat sa incerc si nu mi-au impus? Sa-i acuz ca si azi pot sa imi petrec timpul unde doresc doar sa stie unde anume? De ce sa le ascund viata mea? Ca sa ma poata banui? Nu, prefer sa ma cunoasca decat sa creasca un strain langa ei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emancipata - sa fi independenta de cineva sau ceva. Asta e definitia clasica a acestui concept. Si da, ma recunosc in definitia acestuia. Si desi poate fi unul negativ eu ii vad partea pozitiva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am fost numita emancipata! Am fost numita frumoasa! Am fost numit proasta! Am fost numita inteligenta! Am fost numita "femeia langa care preferi sa traiesti o viata intreaga"! Am fost numita interesanta! Am fost numita cuminte! Dar crezi ca toate acestea au valoare pentru mine? Niciuna nu ma atinge, niciuna nu ma face mai independenta sau mai dependenta de ceva sau cineva. Stiu ca dependenta mea e iubirea parintilor mei si prezenta lor in viata mea. Stiu ca pot sa plec de langa ei, dar asta nu va insemna niciodata ca nu ii am mereu langa mine. Stiu ca independenta mea inseamna ca ceea ce gandesc sa prinda glas, inseamna sa pot striga, sa pot iubi, sa pot fi fericita, sa pot dansa, sa pot manca, sa pot respira, sa pot construi in stilul care imi place mie.&lt;br /&gt;Fara minciuni, fara orgolii extreme, fara cuvinte vulgare, fara muzica proasta, fara surprize neplacute, fara noptii in sir pierdute in cluburi, fara "exoctisme", fara "articole de scandal", fara oameni de proasta calitate, doar ocazii cu stanci, doar ploi calde, doar vise realizate, doar aplauze, doar strigate cu urare, doar zambete ciudate, doar iubiri castigate, doar oglinzi nesparte ... asta e viata mea emancipata... in metafore, in forme ciudate, in simplitati si imperfectiuni curate... ca mai apoi sa am puterea sa spun "Ce viata minunata!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi doresc sa pot spune toate acestea la sfarsitul vietii. Imi doresc sa pot fi fericita. Imi doresc sa zambesc. Imi doresc sa imi implinesc. Imi doresc mereu nou in viata. Si pentru toate acestea sunt acuzata de emancipare! Si toate acestea imi reusesc pentru ca-mi doresc!&lt;br /&gt;Sa mai vrei sa intelegi oamenii? Nu... prefer sa nu mai am asteptari de la ei, iar daca acest fapt presupune acuzatii ca in acest caz... prefer acuzatii decat oameni nefolositori... Acuzatia ti-o transform in viata decat sa accept incapabilitatea ta de a te desprinde din monotonie si depravare...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emancipata! Viata de emancipata! Dintr-o familie emancipata! Pentru cuvantul emancipata!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-2539147553645072391?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/2539147553645072391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=2539147553645072391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/2539147553645072391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/2539147553645072391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2007/04/te-uiti-in-jurul-tau-sticle-sparte-din.html' title='Emancipare in viata mea!'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237136614075061856.post-492063143104547212</id><published>2007-04-29T14:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T14:11:31.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>inorap</title><content type='html'>"inorap" este cuvantul ce a facut posibila crearea noului meu blog ... de ce?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1237136614075061856-492063143104547212?l=scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/feeds/492063143104547212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1237136614075061856&amp;postID=492063143104547212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/492063143104547212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1237136614075061856/posts/default/492063143104547212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scortisoara-scortisoara.blogspot.com/2007/04/inorap.html' title='inorap'/><author><name>!! scortisoara !!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14457912576719486512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yuY-CHysyEs/SnQSyLZZ4BI/AAAAAAAAADo/16lbxMiATUQ/S220/P1017552.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
