<?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-8936217040368872438</id><updated>2012-02-16T07:16:07.469-08:00</updated><category term='childhood...'/><title type='text'>Unintended</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Unnamed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15682104301231680135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SlXjHpWTmlI/AAAAAAAAAB4/5N5FsbHq1jE/S220/Nicotine+Passion.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936217040368872438.post-8182054578083697437</id><published>2009-07-09T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T06:34:17.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Winds.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SlXxrIw2ZnI/AAAAAAAAACg/KxN0ugGXTtI/s1600-h/tornado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356453055216117362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SlXxrIw2ZnI/AAAAAAAAACg/KxN0ugGXTtI/s320/tornado.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We fly ,we sing, We thrill our selves...&lt;br /&gt;With wings of power and saphire blue.&lt;br /&gt;We get drunk on Morning cold&lt;br /&gt;We dream, we ride and play with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We like to whatch the sun go down&lt;br /&gt;And kindly smile while lovers kiss&lt;br /&gt;We take your thoughts and run away&lt;br /&gt;With our lovely froun of bliss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spy the kids while playing ball&lt;br /&gt;And carry on from far the sounds&lt;br /&gt;We are huge and yet so small&lt;br /&gt;Allways conect and tie up bounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you blow your breath in wistles&lt;br /&gt;We take the message to the lands&lt;br /&gt;And when you through away a flower&lt;br /&gt;We bring it right back in your hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even though we make trees dance&lt;br /&gt;And bring autum and then winter&lt;br /&gt;We can chill you when your hot&lt;br /&gt;But after that we'll make you shiver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poets love us...make us laugh..&lt;br /&gt;With theire rimes and poems sad&lt;br /&gt;For they know us well and still&lt;br /&gt;They consider us too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Light a candle to make light&lt;br /&gt;And we'll blow it out for funn&lt;br /&gt;Now and then we'll bring you rain&lt;br /&gt;To shelter we'll make you run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will celebrate tornados&lt;br /&gt;Make them powerfull and strong&lt;br /&gt;We're neighter god or bad&lt;br /&gt;We decide what's right and wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can call us by our name&lt;br /&gt;Whitches Summon us in stroms&lt;br /&gt;And we'll come whenever need it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We're The Winds in purest forms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8936217040368872438-8182054578083697437?l=unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/feeds/8182054578083697437/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8936217040368872438&amp;postID=8182054578083697437' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/8182054578083697437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/8182054578083697437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/2009/07/winds.html' title='The Winds.'/><author><name>Unnamed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15682104301231680135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SlXjHpWTmlI/AAAAAAAAAB4/5N5FsbHq1jE/S220/Nicotine+Passion.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SlXxrIw2ZnI/AAAAAAAAACg/KxN0ugGXTtI/s72-c/tornado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936217040368872438.post-1639458512149836381</id><published>2009-07-09T06:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T06:30:00.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arta de a fi pierdut....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As vrea sa ma numesc poet,&lt;br /&gt;Alaturi de cafea in fum,&lt;br /&gt;De tigare si de scrum,&lt;br /&gt;Si versuri pline de parfum….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa petrec in cafenele,&lt;br /&gt;Prins in gandurile mele.&lt;br /&gt;Sa ma simt ca un artist,&lt;br /&gt;Mereu vestejit si trist,&lt;br /&gt;Libertin si anarhist…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si sa visez etern pierdut,&lt;br /&gt;In sonete si culori,&lt;br /&gt;La grotesc plin de fiori…&lt;br /&gt;Cum ma iubesti, dar ma omori…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As vrea sa ma numesc poet,&lt;br /&gt;Plagand mereu ca-s incomplete…&lt;br /&gt;Inert,privind mereu in gol…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8936217040368872438-1639458512149836381?l=unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/feeds/1639458512149836381/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8936217040368872438&amp;postID=1639458512149836381' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/1639458512149836381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/1639458512149836381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/2009/07/arta-de-fi-pierdut.html' title='Arta de a fi pierdut....'/><author><name>Unnamed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15682104301231680135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SlXjHpWTmlI/AAAAAAAAAB4/5N5FsbHq1jE/S220/Nicotine+Passion.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936217040368872438.post-4028909362529462535</id><published>2009-07-09T05:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T06:25:09.359-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childhood...'/><title type='text'>A child....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I heard a child crying inside…&lt;br /&gt;And I ignored, and smoked again…&lt;br /&gt;I suffocated him and then…&lt;br /&gt;I poured some coffee in his head…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard a child crying inside…&lt;br /&gt;Old memory or maybe not…&lt;br /&gt;He seems familiar and still…&lt;br /&gt;I’ll let him weeping in the dark…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard a child crying inside…&lt;br /&gt;With big red eyes and shiver hard…&lt;br /&gt;I still ignored him even though&lt;br /&gt;He screamed my name broken apart…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear a child crying inside…&lt;br /&gt;I turn to look and end in shock…&lt;br /&gt;I see my self or just the one…&lt;br /&gt;I never had the chance to be…&lt;br /&gt;I hear the child crying inside…&lt;br /&gt;He never sleeps…he never stops…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8936217040368872438-4028909362529462535?l=unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/feeds/4028909362529462535/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8936217040368872438&amp;postID=4028909362529462535' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/4028909362529462535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/4028909362529462535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/2009/07/child.html' title='A child....'/><author><name>Unnamed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15682104301231680135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SlXjHpWTmlI/AAAAAAAAAB4/5N5FsbHq1jE/S220/Nicotine+Passion.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936217040368872438.post-4621763332426151149</id><published>2008-10-08T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T00:14:44.608-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scrisoarea</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SO2uidWucSI/AAAAAAAAABA/Wk5vKeCsNfk/s1600-h/Letter_by_ladyloss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255048247229968674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SO2uidWucSI/AAAAAAAAABA/Wk5vKeCsNfk/s320/Letter_by_ladyloss.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“ London, United Kingdom Marti, 20 Octombrie , 2057&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dragul meu prieten,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Cateodata nu imi vine sa cred cat timp a trecut…cate zile s-au scurs….cate ore s-au risipit…de cand tu…de cand eu…de cand “noi” am fost stersi din cursul timpului….&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi amintirea ramane…ca un spin prins sub piele….ca o pata pe perete…. Ca un eveniment istoric…..si regretul se infasoara in jurul amintirii si atarna asa la nesfarsit pana tot ceea ce numesti viata se scurge din trup si se pierde in etern….&lt;br /&gt;Scriu aceste randuri cu durere in degete caci gura mi-e amortita si inutila acum, in nevoia disperata de a-mi cere iertare…pentru tot ce nu ti-am spus si ce nu voi rosti niciodata, pentru timpul pierdut in compania mea, pentru visele nepovestite, pentru noptile nedormite, pentru caldura zilelor si frigul noptilor, pentru ca ti-am dat doar o tigare in loc de doua….pentru ca nu ai avut niciodata incredere sa gusti din cafeaua mea…..pentru dragostea niciodata recunoscuta….iertare pentru tot…atat mai cer…ca sa pot stinge lumina in liniste si sa pot pleca in pace...&lt;br /&gt;Au trecut 50 de ani, nu credeam sa apuc 67 pe acest pamant uitat de Dumnezeu…..doar sti cat de mult imi place sa fumez…cum spuneam eu mereu zambind cu jumatate de gura :”m-am nascut cu tigarea in mana si vreau sa mor la fel….”…ei bine plamanii mei impreuna cu doctorii au declarat oficial ca se apropie ziua...si nu vroiam sa plec fara sa mai vorbim o ultima data….&lt;br /&gt;Cum te mai simti? Ce mai ai de povestit…? Am o pofta necontenita sa te ascult.&lt;br /&gt;Ti-am citit ultima carte “Visul regasit intr-o scara de bloc”…m-a stupefiat….esti la fel de talentat pe cat te-am crezut intotdeauna….cand eram amandoi tineri adolescenti si tu explica-i cum vei ajunge un mare scriitor literar , un artist neinteles…un adevarat artist…iar eu nu putea decat sa te privesc fascinata de pasiunea si intensitatea cu care visai si simteai ceea ce avea sa se intample….caci ai stiut mereu unde vei ajunge….&lt;br /&gt;Asta ne deosebea intotdeauna….tu stiai mereu pentru tine, dar niciodata pentru altii, iar eu exact opusul. Ei bine…acest vis ti-a fost satisfacut….spre fericirea noastra…a mea si a ta. Nu pot sa spun decat…Felicitari.&lt;br /&gt;Sotia ta ce face? E asa cum te-ai asteptat? Asa cum ai vrut mereu?Am inteles ca aveti si 2 copii, o fata si un baiat. Exact asa cum ai visat mereu. Banuiesc ca amandoi au furat din frumusetea ta si nu pot decat sa imi imaginez cat de incantatori si cocheti sunt amandoi, ca sa nu mai vorbim de educatie.Sunt sigura ca ati avut grija de ei exact asa cum se cuvine. Pot sa jur ca numele fetei e Sonia, nu te mai saturai de numele asta. Eu nu m-am casatorit niciodata, sti cum spuneam mereu:”Eu o sa mor fata mare.”Mi-am petrecut viata calatorind unde m-a dus inima si unde mi-a dictat sufletul si intuitia. Pot sa spun ca nu regret nimic…sau bine…poate 2, 3 regrete se gasesc si pentru mine. Dar e in regula, am zburat din aventura in aventura si mai bine de atat nici ca se putea pentru mine.&lt;br /&gt;Unii spun ca ti-ai fi vandut sufletul diavolului, ca numai asa puteai sa ai tot ce ti-ai dorit. Eu stiu ca nu e adevarat. Mereu ai fost practic si muncitor si stiu ca meriti tot ce posezi.&lt;br /&gt;Of…ce incantator e sa depanezi amintiri, chiar si de unul singur, dar e magnific.&lt;br /&gt;Tin de atata timp sa iti trimit aceasta scrisoare, nici nu ai idee. Am incercat sa o fac cat mai perfecta, cat mai complexa si mai interesanta. Am avut sute de tentative, dar nu am reusit decat acum. N-as vrea sa te dezamagesc printr-un limbaj sarac sau neadecvat, doar esti un domn distins acum.&lt;br /&gt;Scrisoarea trebuia sa ajunga in mainile tale de ziua ta, 24 Octombrie. Nu., nu am uitat.&lt;br /&gt;Dar m-am gandit ca nu ar fi prea potrivit,ma gandeam ca nu iti vei aminti de mine.. Simteam asta. Dar acum m-am decis sa imi iau inima in dinti, sa strang cat pot de tare si sa iti scriu. Si asta am facut, fara sa mai tin cont de urmari. Probabil nu imi vei raspunde niciodata, sau poate ca da. Parca ma si vad tinand scrisoarea ta la piept, topaind ca o copila de 12 ani care si-a primit cadoul mult dorit.&lt;br /&gt;Of…nu pot decat sa suspin si sa sper la gandul acesta, sa visez cu ochii larg deschisi ziua cand voi citi randurile picurate din mana ta si mi se furiseaza cate un zambet larg pe buze. Simt ca imi plesneste sufletul.Sunt aproape sigura ca imi vei scrie inapoi. Vei primi aceasta scrisoare in 3 zile.&lt;br /&gt;Cred ca am scris destul, si totusi as mai avea atatea de spus. Nu as vrea sa devin plictisitoare si e foarte tarziu.Astept cu nerabdare un semn, un rand, o pagina din viata ta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Iti las adresa pe plic. Eu am aflat-o pe a ta din surse sigure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cu foarte multa dragoste si&lt;br /&gt;speranta, O.“&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si ziua decisiva a sosit. Postasul a batut la usa. Era 7 dimineata. Abea ma trezisem, aveam cafeaua si tigarea aproape. Am ajuns la usa, am deschis un pic somnoroasa si morocanoasa, dar am pus repede masca politicoasa si am zambit.&lt;br /&gt;“-Buna ziua, doamna, v-am adus corespondenta. Poftiti.”&lt;br /&gt;“-Multumesc Jhonas.Intri la o cafea?”&lt;br /&gt;“-Nu, multumesc doamna, e o zi plina azi, nu am timp nici sa mor”&lt;br /&gt;Am ras amandoi, eu adaugad :&lt;br /&gt;“-Las’ ca pentru asta gasim toti cate 5 minute.”&lt;br /&gt;Rasul a devenit un pic mai intens.&lt;br /&gt;“-Macar astepti putin cat iti pun o cafea la pachet?”&lt;br /&gt;“Ok, hai ca pentru asta gasesc cateva minute”&lt;br /&gt;“Ti-am spus eu!”&lt;br /&gt;Am inceput iar sa radem amandoi, eu plecand spre bucatarie, el asteptand cuminte in hol.&lt;br /&gt;I-am pregatit cafeaua cu 2 lingurite de caramel, o lingurita de zahar, o lingura de lapte si putina frisca, exact asa cum steam ca ii place de cand se mai oprise sa mai schimbam o vorba, doua. Era un baiat tare simpatic, tinerel, curatel si inocent.Cu parul negru si tente albastrui ca cerul unei nopti de vara ,ochii verzi deschis ca smaraldul si cu trasaturi ferme, dar copilaresti si foarte amabil, un suflet senin, neatins de intunericul tenebrous al durerilor juvenile.&lt;br /&gt;I-am adus cafeaua si l-am condus la usa incadrata cu marmura.&lt;br /&gt;“-Multumesc foarte mult,sunteti foarte amabila. chiar o sa am nevoie azi.”&lt;br /&gt;“-Stiu Jhonas, stiu….toti o sa avem.”, i-am zambit discret.&lt;br /&gt;“-O zi buna doamna.”&lt;br /&gt;“-Multumesc la fel.”&lt;br /&gt;Dupa care am inchis usa, m-am asezat la masa veche din lemn de artar,decorata cu o glastra cu 5 margarete rosi proaspete, am sorbit un pic din cafea si am inceput sa ma uit prin corespondenta.&lt;br /&gt;Am simtit cum mi se taie respiratia. Am inlemnit. A durat doar o secunda dupa care am inceput sa topai fericita de parca uitasem ca am 67 de ani si cat de ridicol trebuia sa arat.&lt;br /&gt;M-am oprit din frenezia mea, m-am trezit la realitate si am inceput sa sfasi plicul. Citisem adresa…era de la el…credeam ca visez…chiar mi-a raspuns!...chiar mi-a raspuns…am desfacut plicul, am asteptat un moment, am tras aer in piept cu ochii inchisi si plina de emotie, dupa care mi-am luat inima in dinti si am inceput sa citesc….Scria foarte putin, dar nu conta. Dupa atata timp eram fericita! Dar zambetul a inceput sa dispara si se transforma in lacrimi in timp ce inaintam in randuri…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Los Angeles, USA Joi,29 Octombrie,2057&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doamna O.,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cu regret si durere va aduc la cunostinta ca tata s-a stins din viata pe 21 Octombrie 2057.&lt;br /&gt;Imi pare rau sa va dau aceasta veste.Mi-am permis sa citesc scrisoarea si m-a emotionat. Va rog sa ma iertati.Imi pare sincer rau. Daca va incalzeste cu ceva, as vrea sa va marturisesc ca nu v-a uitat, defapt chiar ne-a povestit foarte multe despre dumneavoastra, mie si lui David, fratele meu. Acestea fiind spuse cred ca ar fi potrivit sa inchei aici.&lt;br /&gt;Nu pot decat sa va las adresa cimitirului: West Street Avenue, nr. 52.Salusarus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cu respect, Sonia. “&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am ramas inerta…si asa am stat 3 zile la masa mea veche de lemn de artar….cu scrisoarea inca atarnand din mana…..cu speranta sagetata…..pana cand am reusit doar sa zambesc si sa murmur….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“-Ne vom vedea in curand, prietene….”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8936217040368872438-4621763332426151149?l=unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/feeds/4621763332426151149/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8936217040368872438&amp;postID=4621763332426151149' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/4621763332426151149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/4621763332426151149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/2008/10/london-united-kingdom-marti-20.html' title='Scrisoarea'/><author><name>Unnamed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15682104301231680135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SlXjHpWTmlI/AAAAAAAAAB4/5N5FsbHq1jE/S220/Nicotine+Passion.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SO2uidWucSI/AAAAAAAAABA/Wk5vKeCsNfk/s72-c/Letter_by_ladyloss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936217040368872438.post-3280963682832682335</id><published>2008-10-08T23:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T23:48:20.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De dor...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SO2pItJeECI/AAAAAAAAAA4/7HMTIaHV_jQ/s1600-h/Devon_smoking__by_hatemypoisionedkiss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255042307234598946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SO2pItJeECI/AAAAAAAAAA4/7HMTIaHV_jQ/s200/Devon_smoking__by_hatemypoisionedkiss.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu trece zi….fara sa ma gandesc la el….la D.…..la el…..&lt;br /&gt;Nu mi-a permis sa-l uit….iar inima l-a ascultat si nu m-a lasat sa plec….sa uit, sa inchid ochii si sa fug…..&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi a trecut atat timp…..prea mult ca sa pot suporta si prea putin ca sa trec peste tot….tot ce s-a petrecut….tot ce urma sa continue, dar a fost interrupt de timp…..absolut tot…..si am ramas in umbra…..in umbra lui…cum eram si inainte…..dar acum mai invizibila ca niciodata…..&lt;br /&gt;Imaginea lui mi-a ramas staruitoare, incrustata in minte ca o inima sagetata scrijelita in scoarta unui copac batran si trecut….. in mintea mea plina de maree si de scoici….unde gasesc palmieri si flori ofilite si dezradacinate de uragane si furtuni…de Katrina si de Chico…..&lt;br /&gt;Si ma gandesc cum el isi ascunde incontinuare durerea de ochii tuturor….pur si simplu tace si simte….mai intens ca nimeni altul….si imi amintesc cum numai eu puteam sa il vindec…sa ii ghicesc fiecare simtire si nesimtire…si cum numai eu reuseam sa ii rapesc un zambet sincer de pe buze…..atunci cand il consolam si il imbratisam, chiar daca imi tot repeta ca nu ii place…eu continuam caci refuzul era doar de suprafata….in sinea lui suspina si tanjea dupa o imbratisare…..chiar daca nu din partea mea…il incalzea si atat…&lt;br /&gt;Iar eu atat puteam sa ii ofer…o inima si-un suflet….atat. O inima pe-atunci curata si fina, si-un suflet pur si mladios…..neatins de intuneric…. dar acum…? O inima pe jumatate putreda si neagra aproape stearsa de timpul rece si grabit sau un suflet batran si muribund….?&lt;br /&gt;Caci doar spiritul si rutina mai misca oasele incarnate si batute de vreme si de vant…..&lt;br /&gt;Inca mai aud vag aceea voce ,odata cristalina, acum doar infundata cum imi spune bland si trist…..”dormi copile…dormi….caci timpul nu asteapta, dar eu sunt tot aici….”….&lt;br /&gt;Si stiu ca este acolo…..dar unde….? Si D.……? Cel ce nu mai e acolo… Cel ce nu il mai gasesc…..cu infatiseara-i angelica , dar demonic in adanc….transformat de viata si zile, de ani si amintiri….de vechime si suspin..si totusi nu destul….caci nu e rau…e doar indurerat….&lt;br /&gt;Cu paru-i valvoi, pictat in noante de blond tandru de vara si cu ochii mai albastri ca marea si cerul, luminosi ca doua stele in care zareai doar nori de toamna incercand sa ii mascheze natura-i instabila si sufletu-i vulcanic…imi amintea mereu ca viata e frumoasa chiar si cand traiesti in infatisarea unei umbre.&lt;br /&gt;Dar ce vorbesc acum….?&lt;br /&gt;“-Buna dimineata !”…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8936217040368872438-3280963682832682335?l=unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/feeds/3280963682832682335/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8936217040368872438&amp;postID=3280963682832682335' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/3280963682832682335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/3280963682832682335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/2008/10/de-dor.html' title='De dor...'/><author><name>Unnamed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15682104301231680135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SlXjHpWTmlI/AAAAAAAAAB4/5N5FsbHq1jE/S220/Nicotine+Passion.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SO2pItJeECI/AAAAAAAAAA4/7HMTIaHV_jQ/s72-c/Devon_smoking__by_hatemypoisionedkiss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936217040368872438.post-7539173959910135118</id><published>2008-10-08T23:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T23:28:26.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Suflet pierdut</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SO2kgLzXj1I/AAAAAAAAAAY/_qNyn4o0x30/s1600-h/Autum_by_Henriksen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255037213042249554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SO2kgLzXj1I/AAAAAAAAAAY/_qNyn4o0x30/s200/Autum_by_Henriksen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah….of tu M. …cum nu sti tu despre mine…..tot ce as dori sa-ti spun…..tot ce-as dori sa-ti arat….sa ma vezi asa cum sunt…..sa ma vezi asa cum sunt!……dar nu pot sa ma dezvalui… nu –i permis sa ma descoperi….nu-i permis sa ma arat….&lt;br /&gt;….sa ma vezi pentru ce sunt…poate atunci a-i intelege si a-i reusi sa crezi…tot ce-ti spun de cer si stele…despre Tata si de sfinti….despre lume si pamant….despre mine si ce sunt….n-ar mai fi coincidente si doar simple-ncurcaturi…totu-ar fi clar si pur…..&lt;br /&gt;dar esti creatura simpla si oridinele-mi sunt clare….am venit ca sa te apar…sa ma spal de pacate…..sa te curat si pe tine…sa te spal prin lumina…..sa trec peste opunerea ta si sa te scap de…de….de atata impuritate….sa-ti recapeti inocenta…..ca sa-ti daruiesc iertare…..dar am ezitat prea mult…am dat gres din nou…te-am pierdut si pe tine…&lt;br /&gt;ai decis sa ma refuzi…si prin mine si pe el….ai vandut lumina pentru intuneric…..m-ai vandut odata cu tine….ti-ai vandut ultimul pas spre desavarsire….pt iluzia sigurantei pe care ti-o oferea intunericul…m-ai parasit cu gandul ca in umbra nu te va mai observa nimeni….nu vor mai avea prilejul de a rade de tine…te-ai daruit crezand ca nu te va mai atinge nimic…nici durere, nici regret…..iar oricat m-as fi opus eu stiind adevarul dar neputand sa ti-l arat….m-ai refuzat….m-ai trantit crezand ca stau in calea fericirii tale…..si cand ai realizat adevarul….cand ti-ai dat seama ca nici tu nu mai vezi…ca umbrele iluzori menite sa te apere, defapt te orbesc…te sufoca…te-nrobesc…..era prea tarziu…..intunericul ma tarase departe de tine stiind chinul meu de-a te salva….dar erai un alt suflet…prea pretios pentru a fi pierdut…..&lt;br /&gt;dupa vreme-ndelungata de cautari…de urlete…de plans...de disperare…de groaza…de sangerare…de chin….oh Doamne! De ce nu mi-ai dat mai multa forta??? De ce ai lasat intunericul sa ma inece….? Valuri sa ma duca departe de sufletul ce mi-era scris sa il apar…. Unde esti Tata???de ce nu imi raspunzi….??? Tata te rog! Te implor…. Raspunde-mi in acest ceas negru…te rog……………&lt;br /&gt;Am ingenunchiat….ma resemnez…dupa atata timp….am obosit….vreau sa imi interzic existenta….si totusi….vag….departat….de departe….”trezeste-te copile…Sunt inca aici….” …cu aceeasi blandete…cu aceeasi rezonanta…adevarata rezonanta a dragostei pure…..”te astept stea-nascuta-n cer….te astept….”&lt;br /&gt;Am reusit doar sa scancesc…..o lacrima s-a scurs peste pielea uscata si crapata…doar atat…..m-am stins….&lt;br /&gt;Daca vreodata M., vei scapa din ghearele-i incalcite…ma vei gasi in acelasi loc….unde m-ai gasit de mult…unde imi astept mereu ordinele…..&lt;br /&gt;Pe aceaasi pajistea etern verde si fina…..sub acelasi ocean intr-adevar nemarginit cu spuma-i povestind inceputul sfant…unde vantul adie atat de tandru incat parul ii implora atingerea si pasarile neincetat isi canta viata si frunzele cad doar pentru a-mi mangaia talpile goale si reci…sub acelasi copac ce imi asculta plansul sorbindu-mi lacrimile pentru a-si revigora puietii….unde lumina mi se prelinge pe piele stergand urmele ranilor de mult trecute….aici ma gasesti…unde a inceput totul…acasa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(…imi lipsesti….)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8936217040368872438-7539173959910135118?l=unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/feeds/7539173959910135118/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8936217040368872438&amp;postID=7539173959910135118' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/7539173959910135118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8936217040368872438/posts/default/7539173959910135118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unnamed-unintended.blogspot.com/2008/10/suflet-pierdut_08.html' title='Suflet pierdut'/><author><name>Unnamed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15682104301231680135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SlXjHpWTmlI/AAAAAAAAAB4/5N5FsbHq1jE/S220/Nicotine+Passion.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q-saepK9MSw/SO2kgLzXj1I/AAAAAAAAAAY/_qNyn4o0x30/s72-c/Autum_by_Henriksen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
