<?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-30061313</id><updated>2012-01-06T14:04:09.095-08:00</updated><category term='tarziu'/><title type='text'>Le  fabuleux destin de Lili</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-7176180210694108623</id><published>2012-01-06T13:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T14:04:09.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'>creier cenusiu cu stelute</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WhuUHVj2Jsg/TwdvyUTwFVI/AAAAAAAAAH4/nQBzRsEG9dA/s1600/IMG_3528.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/-WhuUHVj2Jsg/TwdvyUTwFVI/AAAAAAAAAH4/nQBzRsEG9dA/s200/IMG_3528.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694643164068975954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma intreb de ce nu pot sa scriu cand sunt fericita.de ce n-am acelasi impuls de ce nu trag cuvintele dupa mine si nu ma las dusa de cuvinte. Poate pentru ca o traiesc, o imortalizez intr-o stare, o privire si un gest. De fapt cum sa imortalizez fericirea, care e un val, care te cutremura si atat. Astia de la vama aveau mereu o problema cu fericirea, ba nu exista ba era ceva anume. Cu cat o cauti mai mult cu atat o eviti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atat am cautat si realitatea cu lumanarea, cu faclia, chiar cu torta. Am cautat-o desi a naibii flacara ma ardea si pe mine. Si...ce rost daca adevarul il descoperi in cenusa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si intr- o zi fara sa-mi dau seama, am hotarat ca fericirea...poa sa fie realitatea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Gandurile inca imi alearga zbuciumate da macar le-am legat de picioare si nu se mai duc atat de departe:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-7176180210694108623?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/7176180210694108623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=7176180210694108623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7176180210694108623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7176180210694108623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2012/01/creier-cenusiu-cu-stelute.html' title='creier cenusiu cu stelute'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WhuUHVj2Jsg/TwdvyUTwFVI/AAAAAAAAAH4/nQBzRsEG9dA/s72-c/IMG_3528.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-4774667703684532095</id><published>2011-12-25T08:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-25T08:42:22.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>holiday spirit.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KTyXnbI2XyE/TvdSaNYMPII/AAAAAAAAAHs/LfxrNjKlauM/s1600/IMG_1349.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KTyXnbI2XyE/TvdSaNYMPII/AAAAAAAAAHs/LfxrNjKlauM/s200/IMG_1349.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690107264427113602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Captivi de frig si de sarbatori, fiecare cu sufletul in zarea ;lui sau in alte zari. Uneori imi vine sa strang in brate imagini aminintite. Nu stiu daca atunci simteam aceeasi fericire, undeva intre topire si explozie, tremurand ca un copil inainte de a primi cadourile. Si atunci cand in nostalgie se activeaza fericirea asta, amestecata cu strazi pustii stiu ca...e bine ca doar o data e craciunul.&lt;br /&gt;Nici mie nici marii nu prea ne place iarna.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-4774667703684532095?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/4774667703684532095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=4774667703684532095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/4774667703684532095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/4774667703684532095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2011/12/holiday-spirit.html' title='holiday spirit.'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KTyXnbI2XyE/TvdSaNYMPII/AAAAAAAAAHs/LfxrNjKlauM/s72-c/IMG_1349.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-2832781235274443049</id><published>2011-05-21T16:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-21T16:22:59.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sfarsit</title><content type='html'>N-am invatat cand eram mica sa spun ce simt cu adevarat. Am invatat asta abia in ultimu an. Asta e unu din motivele penttru care nu am mai simtit sa dau pe aici. viata pura i-a luat locu. Si n-am crezut niciodata cata fericirea poa sa fie intr-un lucru banal. Acum 3 zile am pus prima oara in fapt urletul de durere de dinauntrul meu. Si am urlat atat de tare in cat i-am spart timpanele uneia din cele mai iubite fiinte din viata mea.&lt;br /&gt;Azi ar fi trebuit sa vina sfarsitu lumii. Cre ca sunt singura persoana care il regreta.&lt;br /&gt;Ce bine era cand nu credeam in dragoste. Am inceput sa cred apoi, total, ca fiind singuru lucru bun din viata oamenilor. Si acum am invatat ca dragostea ne impinge sa distrugem relatia pe care  o construim in jurul ei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mereu am fugit inainte de a intra cu totul in relatii. Nu pentru ca as fi fost mai fericita singura. CI pentru ca stiam ca daca s-ar termina n-as mai fi supravietuit.&lt;br /&gt;"Ce te faci cand afli ca ai nevoie de iubire, si apoi ramai fara ea?Daca iti place, si te bazezi pe ea?Daca iti construiesti toata viata in jurul ei si apoi totul se destrama?Poti sa traiesti cu o asa durere?Pierderea iubirii e ca pierderea unui organ. E ca moartea. Singura diferenta e ca moartea este un sfarsit.Dar asta poate dura la infinit"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-2832781235274443049?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/2832781235274443049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=2832781235274443049' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2832781235274443049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2832781235274443049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2011/05/sfarsit.html' title='sfarsit'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-3729680342875345020</id><published>2011-04-05T03:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T03:38:58.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>insectar</title><content type='html'>nu-mi plac virgulele. nu prea stiu sa le folosesc. si nu inteleg la ce, pentru mine gandurile abia au timp sa se transforme in cuvinte daramite sa mai aiba si pauze. abia apuc sa pun punct uneori. adica le folosesc dar multe imi scapa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;azi am inventat o noua forma de pojar. cu bube in forma de inima. sau buze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as vrea uneri sa-ti cos direct pe piele o rochie de fluturi. sau de matase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;azi iarasi facem disectie pe cord deschis. nu mai suport anesteziile pentru asta. mereu am nevoie de electrosocuri sa incep sa simt din nou dupa asta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rup foite transparente de pe creier si le bag in matrici groase de fier. sa ia forma de cuvinte, de concepte. sa aiba o margine taiata clar, stiintific. si asa urasc sa aiba o margine. creier ca un sul de hartie igienica, nu am niciodata puterea sa o desfac pe toata, nu ar mai incapea la loc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-3729680342875345020?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/3729680342875345020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=3729680342875345020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3729680342875345020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3729680342875345020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2011/04/insectar.html' title='insectar'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-1285649403006108760</id><published>2011-03-17T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T09:40:50.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bataia fluturelui cu o aripa</title><content type='html'>viata sub lupa, gand in oglinda, disectia emotiei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am invatat sa mergem si nu stim unde. capetele noastre imense, picioare de paianjen.&lt;br /&gt;Greata. picatura chinezeasca cade in vid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ma scrijelesc cu creierul de fiecare data. si totusi mainile-mi sunt curate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pana la urma toti oamenii au vise, dar ai de ales intre a-ti schimba visele, pentru ca viata se misca, este schimbatoare, a-ti distruge obiectul visului sau a te distruge pe tine. (A.L&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mai erau cateva lucruri dar s-au topit intr-o sinapsa.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-1285649403006108760?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/1285649403006108760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=1285649403006108760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1285649403006108760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1285649403006108760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2011/03/bataia-fluturelui-cu-o-aripa.html' title='bataia fluturelui cu o aripa'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-2512567464660192271</id><published>2011-02-02T12:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T12:40:51.929-08:00</updated><title type='text'>alb sters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TUnBTs9y5FI/AAAAAAAAAHc/wCeY4qMRj6o/s1600/28012011404.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TUnBTs9y5FI/AAAAAAAAAHc/wCeY4qMRj6o/s320/28012011404.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569194958452352082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o picatura de zapada topindu-se pe spate...&lt;br /&gt;zapada, uniform, alb, recele in forme perfecte, nealterate de culori, texturi.&lt;br /&gt;vise ca monstri mici, ca un carusel psihotic, un vartej ametitor,palpabil, crud, . uneori ma intreb daca in dorinta mea de evadare nu o iau razna. ca sa mi se intample ceva-ul ala ce te aduce la limita respiratiei. ca si cum ai putea sa traiesti mai mult de cateva minute la limita aia. ca si cum as sacrifica tot ca sa zbor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-2512567464660192271?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/2512567464660192271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=2512567464660192271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2512567464660192271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2512567464660192271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2011/02/alb-sters.html' title='alb sters'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TUnBTs9y5FI/AAAAAAAAAHc/wCeY4qMRj6o/s72-c/28012011404.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-2528211684769421703</id><published>2010-12-14T05:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T05:59:19.378-08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy end (of the year)</title><content type='html'>un pian nostalgic si un saxo usor animant printre randuri&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mai ninge, mai sta. prin mine plutesc pasi catre toate locurile, catre toate sarbatorile. nu e de craciun, e de la iminentu an nou starea asta. craciunu e saxofonu. desi un alt an ar putea fi numarat din fiecare secunda. depinde de unde pana unde il calculezi. asa au vrut oamenii sa numere anii impreuna. sa se culce veseli pe 31 si sa se trezeasca plini de responsabiliati pe 1. sa numere sa scada sa adune sa imparta, sa se desparta. de ce nu e viata un continuu in care sa nu mai numeri nimic? ca un patinoar. aluneci. nici sa nu mai numeri pasii pe care ii faci. nici sa nu mai pasesti. sa lasi urme lungi pe gheata. crestaturile tale. pasii nu lasa urme decat in noroi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-2528211684769421703?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/2528211684769421703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=2528211684769421703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2528211684769421703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2528211684769421703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2010/12/happy-end-of-year.html' title='happy end (of the year)'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-1657887028401168256</id><published>2010-11-25T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T16:18:10.012-08:00</updated><title type='text'>amestec visele</title><content type='html'>de ceva vreme traiesc cu  o frica. simt ca undeva aisbergul de sub mine se topeste, desi e tot mai frig. nustu daca de la incalzirea mea globala, de la faptul ca incalzirile, de orice fel, mai ales sufletesti s-ar putea sa-mi topeasca curaju, lupta asta continua de a fi ceva din ce mi-am propus. stai un pic, de ce mi-ar topi binele tot edificiu pe care l-am construit cand mi-a fost rau.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;undeva firele din mine fac scurticircuit. undeva privirea spre viitor se incetoseaza. si n-as privi, zau ca nu m-as uita incolo, daca n-as vedea cum prezentul e ca un val care merge incolo. si eu mereu in varf. eu facand surfing pe timpul vietii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;devin compulsiva. sau eram. dar obsesiile stranse bocane de cele mai multe ori si sunetul asta e groaznic. bocane pe podeaua mintii asteia si asa prea fluide sa suporte un picior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca dumnezeu ne-a facut dintr-o coasta eu de ce ma simt o impletire de roci? vulcanice si luturi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Inima unei femei bate mai repede decat cea a unui barbat.&lt;/span&gt;" si face mai mult zgomot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mi-e tot mai usor sa ma asez, mi-e tot mai greu sa ma ridic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-1657887028401168256?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/1657887028401168256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=1657887028401168256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1657887028401168256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1657887028401168256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2010/11/amestec-visele.html' title='amestec visele'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-8296053269372441276</id><published>2010-11-08T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T14:17:42.227-08:00</updated><title type='text'>raza roza</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TNh276aWdFI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/ztd4xOe2dLE/s1600/P1050617.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TNh276aWdFI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/ztd4xOe2dLE/s200/P1050617.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537306513516164178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;azi am vazut curcubeuu, cat p-aci sa-l ratez cu ochii in picaturile de pe asfalt. ciudat, incepe sa-mi placa toamna, ca niciodata, nu sufeream anotimpu asta, mirosea a despartiri, a frig, sabota vara si plaja si marea, arunca cu treburi, era ca un pod trist pe care tre sa treci pentru ca stanca din spate se surpa. de fapt e un fel de furtuna arteziana.da furtuna. asa mi-au vrut degetele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mi-e pofta sa scriu. sa scrijelesc cu stilou, cuvinte multe, adunate, cu orgoliu literar, cu pretentie de emotie camuflata artistic, cu banal imbracat si dezbracat in moduri subtile sau exagerate. sa scrijelesc realitatea pana la vis, pana la vid, pana la uitare, si aducere aminte dintr-o alta dimensiune. sa ma opresc cu un pas inainte de tot, sa trec cu un pas peste ce e adevarat. sa ma joc, sa cred, sa ma implic, sa simt, sa sterg, sa admir, sa ma imbat cu orgoliu, sa ma dreg cu bunatate. sa musc din iubire. sa nu mestec, sa stiu ca fiecare por devine o molecula din mine. sa inghesui toate lucrurile intr-un sac, de care stiu ca o sa am nevoie candva, mai ceva ca ala cu jucarii.si cu lili.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-8296053269372441276?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/8296053269372441276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=8296053269372441276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/8296053269372441276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/8296053269372441276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2010/11/raza-roza.html' title='raza roza'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TNh276aWdFI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/ztd4xOe2dLE/s72-c/P1050617.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-1883034171358051993</id><published>2010-11-02T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T16:50:14.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'>alize</title><content type='html'>pas cu pas pe linia asta alba ce inconjoara terenu. nu ma mai arunc in el. am strans atat e timpu pentru masurat.pentru inconjurat. urmeaza momentu trec la altu sau tundem gazonu din nou. nu e cerc e ditai dreptunghiu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imi plac razele de soare trantindu-se pe fata ta intr-un unghi in care iti vad doar zambetul si o suvita razleata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ma simt de parca as avea un ditai colieru de diamante si nu am cum sa-l port pe strada ca nu se potriveste cu ambianta asta citadina si e prea pretios.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;intamplarile mi se creeaza singure, si asta e bine, mainile mele nu mai trebuie sa lucreze, pot sa stea asteptand sa fie luate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imi plac inceputurile pentru ca sunt departe de sfarsit. n-am invatat sa-mi placa si sfarsiturile fiinda sunt aproape de alt inceput.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gandesc in fragmente, simt in curgere. e mai bine decat era invers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-1883034171358051993?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/1883034171358051993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=1883034171358051993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1883034171358051993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1883034171358051993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2010/11/alize.html' title='alize'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-1850524790995588093</id><published>2010-09-30T11:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T11:35:08.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>departe, in mine</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TKTX_Xz7-DI/AAAAAAAAAHI/mNt_lPZczGc/s1600/P1050088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TKTX_Xz7-DI/AAAAAAAAAHI/mNt_lPZczGc/s200/P1050088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522776526786656306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;azi mi s-a facut o pofta nebuna de pantofi de lac. daia mici negrii cu bareta, sau mai bine, aia rosii care mi-au fascinat copilaria, pe care nu i-am avut niciodata. si sosete albe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;azi am sperat atat de mult in cat s-au imprastiat si norii. de fapt nu cred ca asteptam sa se intample ceva, era doar o starea pe carea ti-o da speranta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nu m-au mai emotionat de mult aleile, liceu, parcu. si nu puteam sa nu ma gadnesc de ce naiba ne grabim sa ne apucam  de fumat, sa fim sexi, sa ne cataram pe tocuri, sa ne luam masina, sa ne luam gagiu cu masina. cautam adevarul dincolo de portile alea si lucrurile pe care le vroiam devin alte porti pentru noi. cand renuntam si la ele ramanem cu sentimentu evadarii, da nu stim unde si de ce. mereu vrem sa sarim pe geam, sa lipsim, sa mergem undeva unde e fun, unde e mai bine. am depasit toate cercurile concentrice in care ma invarteam, si mi-am desenat altele ca nu imi ramasese mai nimic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am fugit.inaitne si inapoi.am stat. m-am ascuns. am asteptat sa fiu cautata. m-am catarat. am privit lumea de sus. am cazut. ma priveau de sus. de ceva vreme merg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am ajuns aici.cu spatele la perete.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-1850524790995588093?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/1850524790995588093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=1850524790995588093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1850524790995588093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1850524790995588093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2010/09/departe-in-mine.html' title='departe, in mine'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TKTX_Xz7-DI/AAAAAAAAAHI/mNt_lPZczGc/s72-c/P1050088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-5714163855262368933</id><published>2010-08-26T16:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T17:13:26.374-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nomadul, sfarsitul de vara</title><content type='html'>sunt un aluat pus la copt. de multi ani. din cuptor in cuptor. cu de toate.  o sa ma ard de tot daca nu se prind astia ca nu mai rezist. vor sa ies perfect. nici prea prea nici foarte foarte.asa cum ii sta bine unui aluat. as plezni daca as putea.sa le arat ca rolu meu nu e sa ard ca prostu aici asteptand sa ma umflu. mai bine ma faceau o amarata de paine sau mai stiu eu ce. asa simt ca la scoatere o sa fiu complet inutil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o seringa cu flori.doua coaste rupte in imbratisarea vantului. amar amar. scarba.greata. capu meu ca un acvariu in care nu poti sa prinzi pesti, desi ii vezi pe toti. care de care mai colorat.culoarea dementei. galben fosforescent si rosu sangeriu. prins undeva intre plastic si esenta vie. nu stiu inca. inot. pentru cat timp? inot si in acelasi timp pescuiesc, si in acelasi timp acvariu ala sunt eu. cineva n-a taiat foaia asta la timp. macar rupe-o. sa citesti nebunia in colturile neuniforme. sa rontai ce-a fost in plus. in plus, nu stiu de ce. de ce nu incape totu',de ce totu' daca ar fi tot n-ar avea loc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peste tot franturi. fracturi. sentimentu meu isi tot rupe cate o mana un picior. pe principiu daca te doare stii ca traiesti. pana cand ii rupe cineva gatu.pac pac. atunci stiu ca a existat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;creieru meu ca un pumn de magician din care tot scoate o esarfa colorata si  nuu se mai termina.iar culorile alea.haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-5714163855262368933?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/5714163855262368933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=5714163855262368933' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/5714163855262368933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/5714163855262368933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2010/08/nomadul-sfarsitul-de-vara.html' title='Nomadul, sfarsitul de vara'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-7000738659614922072</id><published>2010-08-21T14:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T15:06:33.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>august rushes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/THBNq-fIp5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/QLilRHJmKwQ/s1600/04082010179.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/THBNq-fIp5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/QLilRHJmKwQ/s200/04082010179.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507987744997549970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vara-i o ciocolata. Ti se face rau de la atata dulce da cand se termina ai mai manca un pic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma scindez ca un morcov pe care il tai sa-l bagi la mancare. din ce in ce mai multe felii apar. daca le lipesc la loc mi-e frica ca devin mai mare decat eram inainte. mi-ar placea sa seman cu un acordeon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cre ca undeva la varsta asta ar trebui sa consemneze aia in cartile lor de psiho o mare criza. sa ma desprind de perioada mea de adolescenta e o chestie dureroasa si complet lipsita de fun. unde intram pana acum din vis in vis, care de care mai maret, mai colorat acum nu-mi pasa. unde era o chestie poetico-idealista-nostalgica acu e oleaca de amaraciune si ironie si logica. parca am trecut de la animatii 3d la un amarat de joc de sah alb-negru, cu 64 de casute maaxiim.te duci mai incolo iesi din joc. am facut drumul invers al lui Alice. nu mai scrie pe nimic bea-ma  pe nimic mananca-ma. nu mai imi ies picioarele pe usa, capu pe geam. ma limitez sa nu ies din camera. si jur ca i-as trage una geamului asta uneori sa il fac bucati. nici o magie, nici un palarier nebun(s-a asezat la casa lui).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da bine. maretia lucrurilor simple.o da. pai daca altceva nu te mai bucura la varsta asta. daca lucrurile complicate doar te obosesc.ce cliseu de cacat.&lt;br /&gt;tot imi repet chestia aia, nu omori cu explicatia toate lucrurile. nu pot sa ma abtin e boala mea. caut samburele, esenta iar cand il gasesc imi dau seama ca lucrul pentru care il cautam nu mai e de mult valabil, vrut, dorit. a ramas doar reflexu de cautare pana la capat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"voluptatea de a avea tot ce si-a dorit si de a inceta sa-si doreasca tot ce putut avea"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cateva boabe amare de cafea te fac sa apreciezi ciocolata aia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-7000738659614922072?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/7000738659614922072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=7000738659614922072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7000738659614922072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7000738659614922072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2010/08/august-rushes.html' title='august rushes'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/THBNq-fIp5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/QLilRHJmKwQ/s72-c/04082010179.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-633550289624998451</id><published>2010-07-06T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T13:50:20.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>opreste-mi un timp, simtind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TDOWIzyRzqI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/jOGj37-NF18/s1600/P1050271.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TDOWIzyRzqI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/jOGj37-NF18/s200/P1050271.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490897448778976930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;"Fericirea ma blocheaza&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;In fata ei pana si cuvintele mi-o iau invers si se varsa in sucul gastric. Intelesul lor trece in sange. Dar fericirea mi-e legata de oameni. De cate ori deschid gura se aude numai ecoul zgomotului pe care cuvintele il scot, scufandandu-se. In fata fericirii sunt un scaun gol la capatul unui dig"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;(G. Vasilievici)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Mi-e si frica sa mai scriu. Pentru ca atunci gandesc, despic, scurm. Caut intelesuri. Intelesuri rationale, logice, articulate undeva, macar estetic. Mai presus de emotie si val. Si in general scriu ca sa faram raul, ura, tristetea si alte pacate d'astea in bucati digerabile. Binele vreau sa-l pastrez intreg. da ma provoaca sa il testez. am senzatia ca &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;am iesit dintr-o masina de spalat care ma rotiti in toate directiile. am creieru spalat, alb, frumos mirositor. numa bun pentru niste pete de cerneala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ce mi-e bine asta nu vreau sa aflu. Prefer sa ma mir ca desi nu am ce imi doream acu ceva vreme mi se pare ca ceea ce am nu e mai putin sau mai rau. Continui sa imi doresc sa primesc lucrurile de care am nevoie nu alea pe care le vreau. Vointa mea e orgolioasa si un pic absurda, se intrerupe brusc pe ultima suta de metri si se intreaba dak e ok.ce-am inteles?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incerc sa nu ma agit. Verile sunt cele mai asteptate momente si cele mai stresante. Fiecare se chinuie sa iasa maxim din ele, sa stoarca cea mai mare fericire si veselie. Nu poa' sa se intample mereu ceva. Mi-e lene sa ma chinui sa mai lupt pentru chestiile pe care le vroiam. Si incerc sa ma obisnuiesc sa imi fie bine cu ce primesc cadou de la viata. Sa merite si sa fie la nivelul alora pentru care am luptat. Si ma surprinde cand pot. si atunci zambesc fara sa-mi dau seama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La 20 de ani eram data peste cap. La 21 nu ma mai dau peste cap aiurea. Doar atunci cand stiu ca am o saltea dedesubt. Ceilalti ar vrea sa-mi faca ordine in viata ca in dulap. Mie imi place sa zac pe hainele aruncate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Vreau si nu iau nici cand mi se ofera. Nu imi agat cu disperare privirea de cerul senin cand ma cuprinde tristetea. si nu incerc sa imi explic totul. Orice explicatie ucide. Si incerc sa nu ucid lasand in viata". tot George. ma simt si prost sa mai scriu ceva. geaman scindat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prea multa liniste ca sa iasa ceva bun in foile astea. Prea virtuale foile astea ca sa merite linistea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-633550289624998451?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/633550289624998451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=633550289624998451' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/633550289624998451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/633550289624998451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2010/07/opreste-mi-un-timp-simtind.html' title='opreste-mi un timp, simtind'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/TDOWIzyRzqI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/jOGj37-NF18/s72-c/P1050271.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-4050683471826230990</id><published>2010-03-23T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T14:50:05.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>backpack trip through life</title><content type='html'>m-am cam gandit sa inchid blogu' asta. capitolu' Lili is kinda over. s-a cam terminat nu odata cu anu' nou, nu cu alte evenimente remarcabile (alea s-au intamplat mai demult). pur si simplu viata devine din rotunda sferica si nu trebuie sa o tin numai de o muchie. e elastica, o arunc de perete vine inapoi. si sare. asta e cel mai important. si i-am lasat si pe altii sa se joace cu mingea si mi-am luat-o inapoi. stiau doar un singur joc. si am aruncat in altii cu ea si nu au fost in stare sa o prinda. dar e a mea, e intreaga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;intr-o vreme eram geloasa pe ceilalti. parca stateau toata ziua afara jucandu-se cu mingile lor mult mai colorate si mai elastice. si eu stateam inaintru si ma invarteam in jurul cercului meu. acum stiu ca si daca bati prea mult mingea p-afara s-ar putea sa te lase mai repede. dar eu n-as putea sa nu ma joc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unii oameni ar face orice sa ramane in echilibrul  perfect in care sunt. in binele pe care l-au construit cu atata grija. eu ii zic punct mort. echilibrul e un balans continuu pe fiecare picior. live with imperfection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and if cupid's got a gun then he'd better shoot it&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nici timpul nu se mai scurge ca un caledar sacaitor, ca un pliant care se desface in jos. e mai mult o insirurire de clape pe care alegi sa le apesi. in ce ordine vrei. jocul cu clapele. canta-mi ceva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And if bridges gotta fall, then you'll fall, too&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am multe poduri. am poduri pe care nu trece nimeni, am poduri pe care le-as ridica oricand. am poduri pe care le-am bombardat indelung ca sa cada. si sper sa fie si poduri pe care nu le-am vazut si care ti se desfasoara asa doar pentru ca esti. dar podurile sunt urmate de drumuri, si odata ce ai pasit pe unul greu te mai intorci la ele. asa ca inca imi contemplu  podurile. si astept sa vina cineva de pe drum sa imi povesteasca cum e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;o cale nu e decat o cale si nu e un afront nici fata de tine nici fata de altii sa o parasesti. priveste-o, incearc-o de cate ori e necesar, apoi intreaba-te: are aceasta cale un suflet?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;suna a la master Yoda, nu mai stiu a cui era.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;always remember Rome wasn't built in a day&lt;br /&gt;(then they've put a flame on it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm too good to be gone.(from here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-4050683471826230990?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/4050683471826230990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=4050683471826230990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/4050683471826230990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/4050683471826230990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2010/03/backpack-trip-through-life.html' title='backpack trip through life'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-5282127574893503837</id><published>2009-12-16T13:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T13:17:25.764-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the morning after</title><content type='html'>nu, nimic notabil. notabilitatea cere prea multe sacrificii de sine. hliziti-va cat vreti. we will shine we will shine remember.&lt;br /&gt;patinez si nu imi trebuie gheata. patinez pe un disc de pick-up. si ador sa il zgarii. sa il zgandar. si astept sa iasa sunete, sa se imbine,sa cante a viata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i wanna see you yesterday&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;debaraua asta e cam goala pentru cati ieri am strans in ea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-5282127574893503837?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/5282127574893503837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=5282127574893503837' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/5282127574893503837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/5282127574893503837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/12/morning-after.html' title='the morning after'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-3679759928890026691</id><published>2009-11-19T15:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T16:07:20.094-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sphere in a world of circles</title><content type='html'>m-am cacait prea mult sa ma apuc sa scriu. ceva. prea multe informatii, prea mult adevar, prea multa cunoastere prea multa analiza, psihologie, despicare, intelegere, filozofie plantata intr-un loc unde ar trebui sa fie altceva. viata. plina, zemoasa, intensa, cu fluturi care tropaie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;raspund la intrebari pe care nu mi le-ai pus niciodata&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iar vis cu senzatia de tine.nu stiu daca visele astea ar trebui sa fie denumite cosmaruri. cosmar de bune. cosmar de ireale. dar am trait diminitele astea in mai putin de o ora mai mult decat in ultimele luni. si ma scald in raul pe care mi-l aduc pentru ca e al meu si frige si&lt;em&gt; it's better to burn out than fade away.&lt;/em&gt; stiu ce ar trebui sa invat din ele. nu stiu unde sa-l folosesc. atata forta, atata dispozitie, atata chef si dorinta de a darui din toate, emotii, ganduri, filozofeli, cate un zambet si un sfat de viata, un sac de incertitudini si doua de fericire. da' oamenii nu mai vor sa faca schimb. le place cu emetaller.sau nu. da tot din ala cumpara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pe peron.astept viata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;copile nu fi prost orasul departe.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca as putea as trai pe shuffle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-3679759928890026691?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/3679759928890026691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=3679759928890026691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3679759928890026691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3679759928890026691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/11/sphere-in-world-of-circles.html' title='sphere in a world of circles'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-2441067660874408561</id><published>2009-09-26T01:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T01:15:28.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>deep shadows and brilliant highlights</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Iti amintesti demult cum ne uitam&lt;br /&gt;Cum timpul trece si noi nu observam&lt;br /&gt;Si cautam ceva ce nu stiam&lt;br /&gt;Iti amintesti tot aici eram&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la marginea fantanii timpului. fascinanta cadere in trecut. plin, adanc, clipocitor, proaspat sau nu. sau NU. prezentul ca de obicei o cursa tampita in care vezi numa botu masinii si linia de pe mijlocul drumului sa nu cumva sa iesi in decor. singura decizie: viteza. to do: ia mana de pe volan. singura fericire: adrenalina si multumirea ca nu stai pe loc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;can't win your losing fight&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as urla, as vrea o tornada de fluturi albi, as haladui prin dragoste, as distruge si as construi la loc dupa chipul si asemanarea urletului. as darama pietrele astea puse unele p&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Sr3M5FBV7FI/AAAAAAAAAGI/GCC4tJwZZkM/s1600-h/IMG_6461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385686010377399378" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Sr3M5FBV7FI/AAAAAAAAAGI/GCC4tJwZZkM/s320/IMG_6461.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;este altele daca ar fi cineva sa vada ce-i sub ele. daca ar ingenunchea in fata lor. si ar zambi ca si cum nu ar fi fost acolo niciodata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Sr1OwajQbhI/AAAAAAAAAGA/aVTIncA9NTw/s1600-h/IMG_6461.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Toate-au fost la timpul lor&lt;br /&gt;Si mi-am zis ca nu-i usor&lt;br /&gt;Sa pictez un colt de cer&lt;br /&gt;Cand tot a fost ieri&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;psihiologia stransului din dinti si durutului in fund. capitolu 1 gaseste-ti ceva de facut sau trage-ti una. o viata la doua farfurii va rog sa imi ajunga la ambii poli. sa nu aleg, sa nu ma cert. o data acolo o data dincolo in vizita la fiecare. fain. cum ar fi: ce faci? iaa si eu la viata 1 in vizita ca cealalta are treaba invata. mai rau cand tre sa le gandesti pe amandoua. hazard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cine esti,cine sunt, ce mai beau, ce mai cant?&lt;br /&gt;Ce mai fac, ce mai simt?&lt;br /&gt;Oare mai pot sa mint?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;in fata: munte 1 intuneric. munte 2- lumina. in spate: mare, caldura, inocenta, speranta, vara risipita si gone with the wind. jos: fantana desertaciunilor, regretu si ingroparea celor ce-au existat. rest in pieces baga 100 si dai spre narcotizarea bucuresteana zis si orasul fostelor lumini. schimba becu. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cine e, cïne nu, care eu, care tu?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mi-e dor sa ma vad in ochi dureros de blanzi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-2441067660874408561?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/2441067660874408561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=2441067660874408561' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2441067660874408561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2441067660874408561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/09/deep-shadows-and-brilliant-highlights.html' title='deep shadows and brilliant highlights'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Sr3M5FBV7FI/AAAAAAAAAGI/GCC4tJwZZkM/s72-c/IMG_6461.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-9030411291777785231</id><published>2009-08-31T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T15:21:38.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>death of animus - end of summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;sans esperance, sans desespoir&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de cand ma chinui sa tot strang si sa pun la un loc mizeriile si bucuriile care m-au colorat vara asta, am obosit sa o tot gandesc. sa o pun cap la cap. ca si cand atunci cand dai pe gat un pahar si te astepti sa fie ceva dulce si e cea mai amara otrava ai putea sa o incadrezi undeva pe moment. greata si gust amar. te dregi, inveti sa te dregi, gasesti bauturi noi, localuri, oameni cu care sa bei, pentru ca da uneori fericirea se numara in oameni. pentru ca la un moment dat oglinda care-ti reflecta lumina s-a intuncat. nu s-a spart, i-a murit reflexia. amin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si insiruind pagini si oameni si turcia si delta si filme  si scrima si renuntari si regasiri si invaatat si acumulat ca sacu plin si golit brusc tre sa il umpli cu ceva nou altfel o iei razna si ramai in aer. cacat. atatea lucruri si idei misto trec pe langa mine si n-am bunu simt sa le trantesc undeva ca sa nu le mai gandesc inca o data. ma enerveaza nesomnu, senzatia de mine prea mult, parca imi ies maini si picioare pe fereastra. ca alice in tara minunatelor deceptii. si deodata pac! miscorare gol doar in mine o farama de viata, nu, de vitalitate, de sens, prea mica ca sa-mi umple tot corpu toata camera, tot ce &lt;em&gt;eram. &lt;/em&gt;delir, febrilitate si panica. macar e noaptea si nu dimineata. asa poti sa zici ca ai visat urat. daca te trezesti dimineata cu sentimentu asta poti sa-ti futi toata ziua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ma gandesc ca or avea astia ceva dreptate cand iti scot un organ stricat sa ti-l inlocuiasca cu altu. asa nu mai poa sa-i para omului rau de jegu ala de carne doar pentru ca era a lui, era acolo si acum nu mai e. zice mersi ca mai traieste si ca are unu nou. nustu de ce cu oamenii nu e la fel. probabil tre sa te bagi si aici pe o lista de asteptare. e si aici in functie de gravitate, cat de stricata e treaba, de cand e. cre ca daca gaseam o lista eram destul de in fata, ca n-am mai putut suporta gradul de descompunere. plus ca era pe lista la altii. ca n-avem o plasa de siguranta in care sa cadem, ne-o facem. si deschizi dracu ochii sa vezi cine te ajuta sa o tii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;citit jurnal oana pellea. prea mult dumnezeu, prea multa impartire in bine si rau. si totusi o stare de bine contrar a tot ce i se intampla. un peux d'esperance. fara tinta. asa ca valurile.&lt;br /&gt;henry miller - cautare, jungla, acceptarea jegului si conservarea idealismului. guru.&lt;br /&gt;cel mai iubit dintre pamanteni - chiar si asta in definitiv singur. ca sa stii ca oricat de bun psiholog ai fii nu avea orgoliul de a subestima imprevizibilul din oameni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cam asta cred. [prima]vara fara tine. dar cu mine mult. la ce drum duce calea asta de toamna nu stiu si nu sper, doar o presimtire buna si certitudinea locurilor unde nu duce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;fiintele omenesti, mai mult decat orice au nevoie sa fie inconjurate de suficient spatiu, chiar mai mult spatiu decat timp&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 septembrie ca un cub de gheata cand nu mi-era cald.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and the hardest part was letting go, not taking part&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt; gata. din azi in maine. undeva&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-9030411291777785231?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/9030411291777785231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=9030411291777785231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/9030411291777785231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/9030411291777785231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/08/death-of-animus-end-of-summer.html' title='death of animus - end of summer'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-3784084726661848154</id><published>2009-08-23T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T14:10:27.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>beautiful living in a world without you</title><content type='html'>ce linistitor sa cunosti oameni care nu-s atat de nerabdatori sa traiasca incat sa uite de ei.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-3784084726661848154?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/3784084726661848154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=3784084726661848154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3784084726661848154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3784084726661848154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/08/beautiful-living-in-world-without-you.html' title='beautiful living in a world without you'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-8775920225118471563</id><published>2009-08-07T14:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T15:09:40.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>smells like turkish spirit</title><content type='html'>inapoi din orasu scufundat in roz, atemporal, intepenit, cu gust de ceai negru undeva miros de marmara. basic needs and real stuff. sugrumati undeva pe munte fara sa trebuiasca sa demonstrezi altceva decat restu. turnu babel. filozofeala a murit in cuvantu din prezent. i'm like a bird, so they said about my name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acum, in fiecare seara inchid pleopele peste un ochi artificial. si prea obosit. friguros. infricat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;alacakaranlık &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-8775920225118471563?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/8775920225118471563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=8775920225118471563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/8775920225118471563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/8775920225118471563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/08/smells-like-turkish-spirit.html' title='smells like turkish spirit'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-921871196318556186</id><published>2009-07-28T03:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T03:52:34.058-07:00</updated><title type='text'>stumble and fall</title><content type='html'>in plin proces de omorarare a idealismului necesar supravietuirii si fericirii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;hating you is the most exhausting. so pick me, choose me, love me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm good. i'm gone. looking for the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-921871196318556186?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/921871196318556186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=921871196318556186' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/921871196318556186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/921871196318556186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/07/stumble-and-fall.html' title='stumble and fall'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-825660959180083797</id><published>2009-07-13T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T14:12:21.873-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tarziu'/><title type='text'>nu e normal asa: sa te doara tot, sa te bucure tot?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I used to rule the world&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now in the morning I sleep alone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sweep the streets I used to own&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SmTbmCF4BxI/AAAAAAAAAFo/NIHZ-UtIBT4/s1600-h/P1010297.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360650902920759058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SmTbmCF4BxI/AAAAAAAAAFo/NIHZ-UtIBT4/s320/P1010297.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in cercul restrans de oameni care nu se mai largeste - le-am dat tuturor sa guste din otrava mea, mi-au zis ce aroma are, cam ce ar trebui facut cu ea. ca s-o bei pan la fund sa o arunci sa vezi ce-i cu ea. mi-am vazut fata napadita de tristete- amaraciuni - gelozie - evadare - frustrare - speranta in oglinzi, apropiate, departate, strambe, moi, rigide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;orasu asta plin de lene, amaraciune, caldura, deshert spiritual, praf alb de nisip ce ne acopera creierii. azi sunt exolftamica, ma holbez la fericirea altora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Doctore da-mi o reteta pentru fericire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-da' ce, tu ai nevoie de fericire?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- pai nu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa poti sa te arunci si sa nu-ti pese cand te-ai lovit la cap, sau sa-ti pese doar atat cat sa schimbi locu'. spontaneitate si detasare iata-ti reteta. ia-o cat poti de mult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pai si eu unde sunt in afacerea cu aruncatu'? eu ma iubesc bucatica cu bucatica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone wants to be found. gotta lose yourself kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sunt ca o placa zgariata, nu nu ma pot opri acelasi cantec aceeasi poezie, te dor si urechile, nu de fapt nu te mai dor ca s-a terminat te-ai obisnuit cu acelasi fundal sonor uneori enervant asta cand il bagi in seama. muti acu' si ai terminat ma invart in gol, &lt;em&gt;in golul din mine niciodata ca tine, ce vise.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si noaptea aducea singuratate ce se incolacea, ma strangula, imi sufoca organele in afara de cel al memoriei, de cel al regretului si de insuportabilele goluri in stomac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Je veux seulement oublier&lt;br /&gt;Et puis je fume&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;macar de-ar fi la fel de mult tot in toate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-825660959180083797?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/825660959180083797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=825660959180083797' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/825660959180083797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/825660959180083797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/07/nu-e-normal-asa-sa-te-doara-tot-sa-te.html' title='nu e normal asa: sa te doara tot, sa te bucure tot?'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SmTbmCF4BxI/AAAAAAAAAFo/NIHZ-UtIBT4/s72-c/P1010297.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-7682547947541591454</id><published>2009-06-24T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T06:57:47.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>city of laziness and lust</title><content type='html'>am evadat aici ca ultimu setos din desertul mult prea urban, prea inghesuit si prea mare, prea strain si incofortabil mie, ca fiinta napadita de boemitate. imi iau timp, ma fabric, ma cultiv, contemplu timpul care curge pe langa mine si imi zic a e doar un val din marea pe care o am la indemana. imi bag creieru la frigider, il plimb la cinema, prin carti doar, doar o scapa de frustrati de ganduri, de oameni si o incepe sa functioneze bine si in singuratate. ma mumific in cultura si alte chestii misto, ajutat pe altii, stat cu familionu in speranta ca o sa devin candva faraonu pe care il visez desi nu stiu daca procesu e reversibil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I have walked these streets so long&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There ain't nothing right, there ain't nothing wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da, ma mai sufoc uneori in aerul asta de zen fortat si autoperfectionare. si atunci respir rapid, cate putin, fara sa-mi las timp de lanturi de ganduri care sa-mi fisureze casa de sticla. nu va vreau acum, vreau sa stiu bine ca imi apartin si ca imi pot fi destula. ca fericirea nu-mi sta la voi. ca libertatea inseamna sa ai curajul sa-ti oferi toate variantele inclusiv cele care te fac sa suferi. m-as transforma intr-un spirit si as umbla printre voi studiindu-va sa vad daca va sunteti credinciosi voua inseva macar atunci cand sunteti singuri. sa vad daca va e dor de mine sau doar de persoana cu rolul ala. am sa vad cat pot sa traiesc cu golul umplut numai cu mine. pana si ce scriu e infect. pentru ca m-am saturat sa imi exploatez jegu de emotii. daca as putea sa devin masinarie si la sfarsit dupa ce am ajuns unde am vrut (unde?!) sa mi se dea centru emotiilor inapoi ar fi super. te-as da inapoi la magazin pana imi da modelu perfect. si sa vezi ca te-am luat la acelasi pret.&lt;br /&gt;delirez da o fac cu o luciditate cretina. chiar masochistica. asta face lenea. restu inca nu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Am plecat iar pe drumul meu &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Plin de ghimpi şi de&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amintiri cu tine.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dar tu de ce dracu nu vii &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;După mine?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-7682547947541591454?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/7682547947541591454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=7682547947541591454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7682547947541591454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7682547947541591454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/06/city-of-laziness-and-lust.html' title='city of laziness and lust'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-4002922420134609520</id><published>2009-05-29T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T15:22:42.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>finding atma</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;have you ever told a lie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;that was true more than truth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;because truth it had lied&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;all its life when it spoke to you?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;mi-am turtit creierii si mi i-am umflat cu pompa la loc zilele astea, mananc din stiinta si cugetarile altora ca sa ma umplu pe mine de lipsa ta, de discutiile interminabile si vorbele scurte pe care nu le-as accepta niciodata din prima, ca o adolescenta furioasa de 17 ani in fata unui batran impacat cu lumea, si tot sar sa stii, ma tot scald in oceanu de impacare, zen, psihologie umanista, pozitivista, citate misto, meditatie si alte chestii d'astea menite sa te unifice sa iti zica ca nu te ratezi ca nu &lt;em&gt;trebuie&lt;/em&gt;, ca ia-o bucata cu bucata, si pe bune, chiar am invatat cate ceva, si mi-e ca o sa ma apropii atat de mult de mine ca nu o sa mai fie loc pentru nimeni. poate o sa ma transform in fiinta aia perfecta androginica, o sa fac multi copii cu mine, copii ai mintii, o sa traiesc impacata ca un ascet, un mic buddha cu proeminenta burtii in creier.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;traiesc intr-un gol de timp, ca in putul din piesa de teatru, si nu inteleg de ce atata agitatie deasupra, pana la urma atata vorba si gand nu te inalta cu mult mai sus. sa treci&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SiBgGl_thDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/rEvWe91QM48/s1600-h/P1010128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341374824456225842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SiBgGl_thDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/rEvWe91QM48/s320/P1010128.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; prin iluzie, sa taci, sa o stii si sa o pastrezi, sa o contempli si sa o aduci inapoi atunci cand e nevoie, maestre Houdini. si sa ai incredere. mare incredere, nu stiu inca in ce. in general in bine. si in raul bun. &lt;em&gt;lumea nu te va depasi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;show your face to the sky&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;on a night when the skies echoe sounds&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;from inside of your mind&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;on the stage that you shone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;where the sun did become you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;and move with your thoughts&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;through the sighs and the scenesof the worlds&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;you have seenand the sights that have been&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;your reflection in shadows and dreams?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;si toate lucrurile care inainte te omorau isi pierd importanta&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-4002922420134609520?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/4002922420134609520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=4002922420134609520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/4002922420134609520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/4002922420134609520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/05/finding-atma.html' title='finding atma'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SiBgGl_thDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/rEvWe91QM48/s72-c/P1010128.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-1404880098496060228</id><published>2009-05-03T14:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T14:46:37.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>anhedonic</title><content type='html'>Lili,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dupa 3 zile de presupusa distractie am ajuns cu capu intr-un butoi din metal urland si asurzindu-ma singura, de fapt sunt cam cele mai lucide momente din ultima vreme, din amorteala in doze mici, naturale si artificiale. Lili vreau timp cu tine, sa stam ca doua schizoide pe banca mintilor noastre comune si certate, sa ne privim in ochi fara pleoape Lili, sa stiu cine esti cu adevarat, sa stiu ca poti sa fii ceea ce vrei, sa stiu ca daca am sa sap tunelu asta prin care iesi la suprafata o sa stralucesti, o sa fim fericite, dar mi-e frica, al naibii de frica ca tu nu existi, ca doar eu te-am creat, mi-e frica si sa nu cred in tine pentru ca daca tu chiar existi si ai pleca, si ce viata as mai duce eu fara ochii tai, prin care privim amandoua dar pe care ii privesc numai eu. Nu stiu ce fiica de regina oi fi tu Lili, cum incerci tu sa-mi controlezi drumurile, cum ma santajezi cu orgoliul si mandria ta, si totusi nu te dezlipesc de mine, nu, pentru ca as fi si eu mediocra si normala, sau chiar vreo intelectuala multumita da fara nebunia pe care mi-o dai tu m'as speria cateodata cand privindu-ma in oglinda n-as vedea pe nimeni, nimeni interesant, nimic exceptional, macar deosebit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quo vadis, Lili?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-1404880098496060228?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/1404880098496060228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=1404880098496060228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1404880098496060228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1404880098496060228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/05/anhedonic.html' title='anhedonic'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-6728529046237643858</id><published>2009-04-30T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T15:54:28.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Otilia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SfoqcKCN-_I/AAAAAAAAAFY/h3MR-LVRPpU/s1600-h/P1010083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330619772164766706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SfoqcKCN-_I/AAAAAAAAAFY/h3MR-LVRPpU/s320/P1010083.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Otilia e fata care atunci cand nu doarme aproape ca viseaza. de fapt n-am putea spune exact in ce stare de constiinta se afla, fiindca, odata trezita ochii ei se intorc spre inauntru. Ce o face pe ea atat de diferita sunt ochii ei de sticla, albi, laptosi. Irisul sau mov, adevarat, n-a fost vazut niciodata pentru ca ea priveste lumea reflectata in spatele ochilor, pe o pata neagra, ca un ecran de la cinema. atunci sta cu obrajii in palme si ochii intredeschisi lasand sa se vada irisul verde, construit din reflectia frunzelor, cerului si marii, ca mama ei si ceilalti sa nu se sperie atunci cand vor vrea sa-i priveasca ochii albi. Daca intr-o zi Otilia si-ar deschide ochii cu irisul cel adevarat spre lume, s-ar speria si probabil ar orbi de la lumina ce inconjoara toate lucrurile, mormanele de lucruri pe care ea le vede inghesuite intr-o pata neagra, pe creierul tesit, ca un ecran de cinema...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;L'air des cedres&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ieri am fost sa vad poze facute de Otilia de prin toate colturile lumii. Imi descria viu ce-i in fiecare din cele 200 de fotografii ai ochilor ei.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-6728529046237643858?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/6728529046237643858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=6728529046237643858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/6728529046237643858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/6728529046237643858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/04/otilia.html' title='Otilia'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SfoqcKCN-_I/AAAAAAAAAFY/h3MR-LVRPpU/s72-c/P1010083.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-1780485756939062413</id><published>2009-04-11T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T12:10:06.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>no love, no glory, no hero</title><content type='html'>Traiesc spirala disperarii mele. Ferice de aia care se plang ca au o viata circulara, care au impresia ca bat pasu' pe loc. Spirala mea nu e ascedenta, se scurteaza, sa interiorizeaza, se strange in jurul meu ca un sarpe boa, hipnotizandu-te pana ajungi sa il simti strans de gat, pana il simti rece peste tot corpul, pana incepi sa te sufoci. Si pe masura ce mergi pe spirala dispar oameni din jurul tau, pleaca sau se intorc cu spatele, tu mergi ca prostu crezand ca apar altii fara sa vezi ca pe masura ce distanta e mai mica nu ai cum sa intalnesti lume. Intr-o sambata seara te trezesti ametit de atata invartit intr-un picior pentru ca astia 5 cm patrati sa singuru loc pe care il mai ocupi pe lumea asta. Libertatea ma stranguleaza in loc sa ma elibereze. Orasul asta mare si plin de oferte nu inseamna nimic daca nu am cu cine sa ii umplu colturile. Si sunt mult mai multe colturi decat dincolo.Cred ca o sa-mi putrezeasca creieru de atata singuratate si frustrare. Ma simt ca cea mai stearpa femeie din lume, care ajunge la menopauza dupa ce toata viata s-a chinuit sa faca copii.Eu m-am chinuit sa fac prieteni. Acum stau aliniati ca niste bibelouri goale pe dinaintru si nu mai reusesc sa-i umplu cu nimic. Nu mai stiu la ce as putea sa-i folosesc. N-am inteles niciodata papusile de portelan cu care nu poti sa te joci. Si daca le sparg si pe astea cu ce raman?M-am saturat sa ma am pe mine, m-am avut de atatea ori, ma stiu pe de rost, parca mi-as imparti corpu cu o fata batrana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;This time, This place&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt; Misused, Mistakes &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Too long, Too late&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma intreb cat mai dureaza pana se intampla &lt;em&gt;ceva. sau daca nu ma mai viseaza nimeni?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There's a blade by the bed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And a phone in my hand&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A dog on the floor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And some cash on the nightstand&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When I'm all alone the dreaming stops&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I just can't stand&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So goodnight moon&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I want the sun&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If it's not here soon&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I might be done&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-1780485756939062413?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/1780485756939062413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=1780485756939062413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1780485756939062413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1780485756939062413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/04/no-love-no-glory-no-hero.html' title='no love, no glory, no hero'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-345661655918314559</id><published>2009-03-22T15:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T16:06:22.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In search of Sunset</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/ScbDvANig7I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Y8v0KgQOE08/s1600-h/loveisnoise.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316151622435505074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/ScbDvANig7I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Y8v0KgQOE08/s320/loveisnoise.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Toti fluturii sunt liberi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Asta nu mai e, de ce il tii in palma?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Nu l-am prins eu, el s-a asezat. O fi sinucigas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Destept. Daca moare o sa devii prizonierul lui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un filozof cred spunea candva ca metafora deosebeste oamenii de animale. cata metafora ne mai permitem, cat de complet lipsiti de ea sunt unii, sau ingrozitor de banali si conformisti in ea altii, atat cat sa nu batem la ochi, sa nu parem usor dezaxati sau prea noncomformisti. dupa cum spuneam marea frica a omului e inadaptarea. o sa ne creasca foarfece intr-o zi in loc de maini daca supravietuirea ar depinde de asta. yes, Edward. ca niste insecte, unele foarte reale, palpabile, cu unghiuri drepte, practice si neslefuite altele colorate, blurry, zburand drogate de propriul vis in care traiesc. M-am trezit si eu, jumate metamorfozata, fortat oprita de antena din emisfera stanga, uitandu-ma crucis la mine, fiecare ochi vazand altceva, fiecare parte descurcandu-se in una din lumi, niciodata destul, prea colorata sau prea concreta, stiind de toate dar niciodata destul, impresionand prin originalitate dar niciodata semanand cu totul pentru ca ceilalti sa te identifice cu ei. undeva atarnata pe o panza pe care ai inceput sa o impletesti singura, si n-ai reusit sa o termini pentru ca gaseai alta ideea de model. undeva in amurg cautand aceeasi diformitate la alta insecta, ca se le puneti cap la cap, sa iasa doua intregi diferite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ma contemplu prin gaura asta a cheii din mine, mai rau decat un voyeurist convins. cum sa nu fie placerea dubla privindu-te, si fiind in acelasi timp in actiune, privitor si beneficiar al placerii. partea proasta e frustrarea omului de dupa usa. pentru ca desi &lt;em&gt;sunt la fel&lt;/em&gt; el nu poate sa se alature, nu pentru ca ar fi incuiat ci pentru ca &lt;em&gt;nu se cuvine. &lt;/em&gt;si trebuie sa stea cineva&lt;em&gt; de paza.&lt;/em&gt; si cand omu de dinauntru e singur, ceea ce il face trist pentru ca nu stie ce altceva sa faca decat sa se simta bine, voyeurul nostru trebuie sa stea in continueare de paza, sa se faca ca nu se uita cand trece cineva, sa salute si sa intrebe de vreme. poate sa si uite.nu-si da seama ca blocheaza intrarea. cine ar intra intr-o camera cand mereu e cineva la usa, amabil dar expeditiv.atata egoism degeaba. oricum e frustrat. mai degraba nu stie cui sa ii dea voie, daca e destul de bun pentru spectacolul pe care il vrea, daca actorul care l-a parasit pe cel dinaintru mai poate fi inlocuit cu cineva cel putin la fel de bun. partea proasta e ca stand atat de mult pe dianfara, si vazand atatia oameni, stie sa recunoasca &lt;em&gt;ce nu vrea&lt;/em&gt; dupa cateva minute. degeaba cauta in spatele ochilor, mainilor, hainelor, celule si sinapsele, pielea, nebunia, descarcarea pe care o aduce intrarea in camera. cum crede ca vede ceva are senzatia ca se minte, cum i se pare ca simte isi pune lupa in actiune. ar incerca ceva inedit, nou, dar ar trebui sa dea buzna pe usa. sarman voyeurist, o fi creierul cel mai erogen organ dar partea prosta e ca tot el tine de usa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de ceva vreme imi tot vibreaza diafragma, parca vad pasii care o lovesc, unii dintre ei sunt facuti de picioarele mele, imi vad pantofii, simt muzica asta cum imi strange stomacu si imi subtiaza ochii. undeva o pestera din spania, un bordel imputit din argentina unde pielea se amesteca cu transpiratia, cu violenta, cu semi-intunericul, cu viata nebuna, picioarele impleticindu-se calcandu-se, sarind, lovind in podeaua aia parca ar vrea sa omoare gravitatia sau sa se scufunde in ea, sa se contopeasca cu noroiul in loc sa faca slalom printre balti stropindu-se...tocuri cioplind in inima, pana ajunge sub forma de flacara,pana explodeaza in sute de bucatele pe care poti sa le pipai sa le strangi, pulsand inca in pumni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everyone has a shadow. And the only way to get rid of a shadow,is to turn off the light. To stop running from the darkness, and face what you fear. Head on.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Libertango. cate apusuri ma m-ai lasi sa infrunt singura?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-345661655918314559?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/345661655918314559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=345661655918314559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/345661655918314559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/345661655918314559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/03/in-search-of-sunset.html' title='In search of Sunset'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/ScbDvANig7I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Y8v0KgQOE08/s72-c/loveisnoise.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-6870534419077517547</id><published>2009-03-01T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T16:26:31.914-08:00</updated><title type='text'>back to the new black - reinventing grey -</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Spaţiul e paradisul, timpul este infernul - &lt;/em&gt;Cartarescu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;infernul timpului vine din circularitate. inevitabil lucrurile ajung in impasul in care au mai fost odata. ca in spirala evolutiva trebuie sa treci pe unde ai mai fost ca sa  ajungi mai sus. &lt;em&gt;cat de sus?&lt;/em&gt; ma intreb constant dupa fiecare sacrificiu, compromis, purificare prin suferinta si renuntare sau pur si simplu abtinere. ca baronul Munchhausen care se ridica singur tragandu-se el insusi de  par. un sut in fund e un pas inainte doar daca vrei sa pasesti, nu te intreaba nimeni cand esti gata sa mergi.singur. &lt;em&gt;cat de departe?&lt;/em&gt; pana cand pierzi tot ce stiai ca e in jur, pana cand peisajele nu iti mai sunt familiar de comode si ajungi &lt;em&gt;acolo&lt;/em&gt;, unde iti era frica. acolo e locul de care fuge fiecare, e constiinta realului, a efemeritatii, a rolului pe care de fapt il ai in marea care se invarte in jurul fiecaruia, dandu-i senzatia ca e doar in jurul lui. ca sa nu uiti ca exista acolo, ca sa nu uiti de tine, ca sa mai simti desi amigdala si tot sistemul limbic e lasat uitarii de lobul tau frontal mielinizat&lt;br /&gt; exista sutul in fund si autoridicarea. eu l-am simtit mai degraba ca pe un pumn in stomac, fiecare cu organul lui sensibil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ca sa evoluezi trebuie sa te intorci, sa retraiesti, sa restructurezi si tzac, mai departe. rapid, intens si fara timp aiurea de ros unghiile. pentru ca oricata alinare ai gasi in ce ai scris atunci, in ce traiai atunci (si da!, parca te-ai imprieteni cu tine din perioada aia)trebuie sa o rupi. si cu tine, nu numai cu el. sa te lupti si sa te iubesti, sa te devorezi si sa te degusti ca un canibal masochist. de fapt nu trebuie, dar instictul de supravietuire te invata. asta daca nu il refuzi, ceea ce mi se pare totusi indecent de extrem. nu de murit n-ai sa mori fara drogu' in care iti puneai bazele, pe care il stiai acolo la nevoie. sa mori in public nu se facea nici pe scena tragediilor grecesti. mergi ca hector, lupti stiind ca o sa se termine pt tine undeva si nu din cauza greselilor tale si dispari din peisaj fara scene telenovelistice. oricata mandrie ai avea si ti-ar placea ca ceilalti sa iti ingrijeasca ranile, sa te aclame, daca nu observa nu poti sa le fluturi cu ispravile tale pe la nas ca o pereche de chiloti intr-o mana de vanzatoare din piata. mori cu demnitate, istoria de uita. n-ai fost incomod. si nici sclipicios. dar ai avut de ales intre sa te imbraca in gablonturi ca sa atragi atentia sau a-ti pastra picatura de aur sub armura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la 18 ani mi-am propus sa ma adaptez. oriunde. sa am succes, sa fiu privita, admirata, dorita in grupuri, curtata etc. ajutata si de maturizarea asta biologica care nu ne iarta pe niciunul am reusit sa uit de adevaratul motiv pentru care era darknimph, sa uit de melodii, de formatii, de stari, si din pacate chiar de oameni care simti ca te trag inapoi intrun trecut pe care nu-l mai recunosti. cand mergi la inaltime nu te mai uiti in jos. nu de alta da ametesti si cazi si nu ajungi nicaieri. poti sa risti si sa le faci pe amandoua. eu n-am vrut. acum ca sa urc zor nevoie tre sa ma uit in jos sa vad de unde am pornit. treaba ce ma face sa-mi fie putin scarba de lasitatea de a ma uita inapoi si totusi multumita ca am facut-o. nu stiu de ce. am fost confortabil. a fost virtual, fals? probabil. nu vreau sa stiu cat de aproape de made in china sunt. din cate vad nu destul. e lucru mare sa fii made in china, esti accesibil, pari de firma, nu trebuie sa se consume prea mult pt tine. si dai bine. plus k mai sunt atatia ca tine. deocamdata sunt doar big in japan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rumegand amintiri pe care din fericire calculatorul si laptopul le-au triat scuipandu-le in timp impreuna cu virusii, inchei acest cerc printr-un fragment dintr-un blog vechi, cu o melodie cu care a inceput o curba din spirala asta si consumul unui drog, halucinogen, narcotic si excitator intr-unul cu perioade lungi de dexintoxicare, tolernta ridicata si cele mai nasoale stari de sevraj&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"si...piesa asta este despre o persoana..care e departe acuma..."&lt;br /&gt;-de ce asculti ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-cum adik de ce?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- simplu` ... missing something or someone ? ... or ... ? doar iti place ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"cu tot ce n-ai sa-mi dai....cu n-am sa-ti spun...am pierdut.."&lt;br /&gt;-dar de ce e greu ? unde incepe ceva .. se termina .. altceva ? este obligatoriu ? daca nu termini precedentul .. se aduna prea multe dupa aceea i guess...&lt;br /&gt;"n-am crezut ca vei pleca curand in nori...de fum arzand"&lt;br /&gt;-so..it's like a goodbye...adik...se inchide..cercul-no .. it`s not a good bye it`s a " la revedere"&lt;br /&gt;"o zi macar de-ai sta cu mine-n gand...."&lt;br /&gt;-and...think about wat i've asked u&lt;br /&gt;-da .. m-am gandit si azi ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"si unde vei pleca din lumea mea...a-mara lumea mea...."&lt;br /&gt;-nu ma simt ma aiurea .. ma comport ca si pana acum .. oricum nu-i nimic de facut ... tu incepi scoala iar eu plec la bucuresti .. asta ar cam fi drama verii sau zilei sau saptamanii mele&lt;br /&gt;sau anului asta ...&lt;br /&gt;si trecut&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ai fost un prost il intrerupse fata.Nu trebuia sa visezi,trebuia s-o iubesti...."&lt;br /&gt;-pai .. parca au trecut okii aia pe langa mine ... si dupa ce ca toata vara i-am lasat sa stea departe .. acum trebuie sa-i las de tot ... sa-i las intr-o speranta ... okii aia .. adik unici ...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-6870534419077517547?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/6870534419077517547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=6870534419077517547' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/6870534419077517547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/6870534419077517547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/03/back-to-new-black-reinventing-grey.html' title='back to the new black - reinventing grey -'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-1124772184495326469</id><published>2009-01-02T15:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T16:00:43.827-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sfarsit si inceput de lume</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SV6qk86I2CI/AAAAAAAAAE8/7RFAdHdbzNQ/s1600-h/miles+away.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286850564381530146" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 318px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SV6qk86I2CI/AAAAAAAAAE8/7RFAdHdbzNQ/s320/miles+away.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;la revedere frumoaso a fost ceva trist pe care sa-l iei cu tine in paradis&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;e melodia mea de inceput de an, pe care o fredonam acum vreo 2 ani. inutil sa mai faci vreun bilant pentru ce a fost, o previziune pentru ce vrei anu' asta. inutile regrete pentru un timp petrecut intr-un fel pe care la momentu respectiv nu vedeam cum as putea sa-l petrec altfel. pune fraul pe viata si zi diiiiiii. &lt;em&gt;caci lumea e un etern nesfar&lt;/em&gt;sit atunci cand o simti cum palpita langa tine, atunci cand esti in ea. sfarsiturile vin doar atunci cand iesi din ea, cand &lt;em&gt;stai.&lt;/em&gt; asta ne face dependenti sa fim in ea. cum sa traiesti cu un sfarsit in tine? dependentii de diferite narcotice, sunt bolnavi de independenta in fata lumii. boala lunga, moartea sigura. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;they don't laugh at jokes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;they laugh at tragedies&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;si timpul tau, ca o placinta din care mananca toti, din care vor toti, din care vrei sa dai tuturor, incat ramai nemancat, ti-e si frica sa nu-ti ramana in gat, sau te enervezi si musti pana iti ramane in gat. nu poti sa-l digeri singur. singur? parca n-ai fi singur. adica fiecare mesteca pentru el. digera la el. da macar e atmosfera cand mananca mai multi nu? numai oboseala de la sfarsit, cand strangi singur, si vezi cat a ramas, oboseala &lt;em&gt;asta&lt;/em&gt; cand scrii, daca mai poti sa scrii, daca ti-a mai ramas vreo farama de &lt;em&gt;placinta,&lt;/em&gt; daca mai pot&lt;em&gt;i sa mesteci, &lt;/em&gt;daca si iar...iti trebuie un motiv intemeiat sa mananci singur bucata cu scrisu. as putea totusi sa mananc de placere. e atata placere pe lumea asta pe care ne e frica sa o descoperim, si uneori pentru putina ne chinuim atat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;lady lights a cigarette, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;puffs away, no regrets&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;takes a look around, no regrets no regrets&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;says "I am free", sings so soft as if she'll break&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;uneori imi vreau si eu placinta mea inapoi. no regrets? sure, that would be perfect. si undeva cateva clipe simti dureros cum &lt;em&gt;esti&lt;/em&gt;, cum &lt;em&gt;a trecut&lt;/em&gt; nu un an, ci &lt;em&gt;timp&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;viata&lt;/em&gt;, momente, sa il masori in ani e ca si cum ai masura aerul in kilograme. undeva intr-o zi de ianuarie 2009 &lt;em&gt;exista&lt;/em&gt; Anca...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;lady lights a cigarette&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;puffs away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;and winter comes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;and.... she forgets&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-1124772184495326469?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/1124772184495326469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=1124772184495326469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1124772184495326469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1124772184495326469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2009/01/sfarsit-si-inceput-de-lume.html' title='sfarsit si inceput de lume'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SV6qk86I2CI/AAAAAAAAAE8/7RFAdHdbzNQ/s72-c/miles+away.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-4145527406669975666</id><published>2008-11-29T15:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T15:31:24.646-08:00</updated><title type='text'>you were there for summer dreamin'</title><content type='html'>incredibil cat din tine poate sa ramana intr-u telefon mobil parasit un an de zile intr-un sertar, ca un mini jurnal, un almanah cu poze si mesaje dintr-o vara, nu demult, o vara traita cu ideea ca e ultima fara obligatii, fara nevoie de perpective, fara &lt;em&gt;trebuie&lt;/em&gt;, cu nevoie de inconstienta si cu suferinta atunci cand nu sunt destule nebunii pe metru patrat, ca un claustrofob pe culoarul larg dintre doua lifturi. nostalgia perioadei de blond nebun, de stress pentru carnet, cu lucruri pe care mi le doream implinite, cu refuzuri copilaresti ale cuiva care vroia sa fie luata in serios, admirata, dorita. mi-e dor de dorul pe care il aveam atunci, idealist, pur si pervers in acelasi timp, fara autoironia si detasarea de acum. de emotii extreme, de noul cu care nu te obisnuiesti imediat, de curiozitate si frica. viata ca un parc de distractii, cu mountagne russe, cu trenulete ce te poarta dintr-o parte in alta, de accelerari peste limita admisa, de frane bruste cauzate de pierderea controlului, de vata de zahar in exces, de balci, si de a te simti bine in balci, de masurarea de forte, tir cu priviri pe sub ochi, de dat peste cap si de senzatia de rau de dupa. toate astea intr-un mobil izbit de masa la nervi, pe vremea cand inca aveam accese pe care nu tineam sa le controlez...dor de furtuna si soare.vise de vara.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-4145527406669975666?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/4145527406669975666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=4145527406669975666' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/4145527406669975666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/4145527406669975666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2008/11/you-were-there-for-summer-dreamin.html' title='you were there for summer dreamin&apos;'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-1644015550724612171</id><published>2008-11-28T14:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T15:10:09.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dream on</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Try to let go of the truth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The battles of your youth’&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause this is just a game&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cand stii ca nava pe care esti incepe sa ia apa la bord si iti dai seama ca lucrurile de care iti era teama se intampla stii precis ca trebuie sa o parasesti si sa te arunci in valuri inotand spre insula de langa. si paradoxal te simti eliberat atunci cand vezi cum se inunda pentru ca in sfarsit ai scapat de o temere. acomodarea e scurta pt o specie cu instict de supreavietuire si orgoliul propriei vieti, mult prea speciala pt a nu supravietui. faptul ca esti in apa si inoti devine un lucru cu care te obisnuiesti, devine &lt;em&gt;normal,&lt;/em&gt;si cel mai important devine &lt;em&gt;real&lt;/em&gt; dupa ce ti l-ai &lt;em&gt;imaginat&lt;/em&gt; atata timp. e de bun simt. parca simti cum incep sa-ti creasca coada de peste, branhii, te adaptezi cu tot corpul, si mai ales cu toate dorintele si viziunile. cand ajungi pe insula ti se pare ca nici nu merita sa te gandesti cat te-ai chinuit, oricum &lt;em&gt;trebuia &lt;/em&gt;sa ajungi aici, asa ca, felicitari, ai facut-o cum trebuie, si te rugam sa nu te mandresti cu asta din moment ce aproape toata lumea a facut la fel. oricum ai inota, pe spate, intr-un picioar, fara o mana, pastreaza-ti aceeasi relaxare afisata de parca e o concesie pe care o faci, jucand rolul asta de om care se chinuie sa ramana la suprafata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Paying debt to karma&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You party for a living&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What you take won't kill you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But careful what you're giving&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si mai sunt momente ca asta cand revii in constanta, cu barcuta de salvare sa vezi ce a ramas din epava navei din care ai fugit, sa vezi caat de bine iti e acum pe insula bucurestiului. dar epavele astea iti dau la inceput sentimentul ala intens pe care il aveai pe furtuna, furtuni ce nu vin pe uscat, furtuni ce sunt doar pe mare, doar &lt;em&gt;la mare, &lt;/em&gt;furtuni cu care ai uitat cum e sa te confrunti, cu care te obisnuiseai atunci cand erai pe vas. incepi sa te simti &lt;em&gt;tu cu totul, &lt;/em&gt;mai ales pe &lt;em&gt;dinauntru, &lt;/em&gt;contractia fiecarui muschi, fiecarui gand, tremurul in fata apelor, si mirosul, mirosul ala nebun, salbatic, miros pe care nu il simti pe uscat, in aglomeratie, in strazi pline, lumini si lucruri pe care ti le doreai si le ai. e aroma luptei cu valurile din tine, sensibil la fiecare rafala de vint. cand esti pe insula e de ajuns sa intri in casa, sa aprinzi lumina, si sa-ti tragi plapuma peste cap, sau sa razi cu ceilalti de furtuna. dar si agitatie din tine pe epava se stinge incet, fiinca iti dai seama ca nu mai este &lt;em&gt;real, &lt;/em&gt;pt ca trecutul nu mai e real, si acum stii cum sa te aperi de lucrurile ce amenintau sa te scufunde inainte. trista si practica acomodare cu lucrurile pe care le asteptai cu emotie si care devin doar o parte &lt;em&gt;normala &lt;/em&gt;din tine, si totusi nu poti sa simti tristetea pentru ca nici nu ai vrut sa ramai un vesnic inotator intre epava si insula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's time to forget about the past&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To wash away what happened last &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hide behind an empty face&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't ask too much, just say'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause this is just a game&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-1644015550724612171?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/1644015550724612171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=1644015550724612171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1644015550724612171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1644015550724612171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2008/11/dream-on.html' title='dream on'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-6602257407401398991</id><published>2008-08-27T02:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T03:24:46.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Joker's laugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;In general observam o abundenta de cuvinte, uneori absolut enervanta si de multe ori plictisitoare, cuvinte are in majoritate cazurilor ascund ganduri atat de simple si de necenzurate si probabil de neacceptat in societate. Aici tre sa recunosc ca una din bubele mele principale e un enorm orgoliu social care contravine dispretului tot mai mare fata de ce se intampla in jur si pare ataaat de important pentru unii de parca ar fi real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sa pomenesc de bac sau de admitere ar fi chiar desuet intr-un moment in care lucrurile cu adevarat importante par sa urle si sa darame tot ce construim in imaginar de atata vreme. Viata noastra se invarte atat de putin in jurul realitatii, incat fiecare farama din ea ne stanjeneste cumplit, ne sufoca planurile. Sa treci de la liceu la facultate e (pentru curajosi) ca si cum ai deschide usa in timpul avalansei de zapada. Te ia pe sus, te ingheata, te imobilizeaza si te tranteste cu fundu' in sus la kilometri distanta de unde stiai ca esti. In orice caz nu unde ai fi vrut sa fii.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;So break me shake me hate me take me over &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;When the madness stops then you will be alone&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In jurul nostru se intampla nenorociri adevarate. Dar cel putin sunt catalogate ca nenorociri, lumea le compatimeste. Nu le invidiez pentru nimic in lume. Totusi e umbra de regret si de amar pentru nenorocirile astea mici, ascutite, chiar sarcastice, pe care nimeni nu le poate intelege in locul tau, pentru ca au propietatea de a fi individualizate, care iti ascutesc ironia, neincrederea in ceilalti, egoismul, si in general, individualismul. E clar ca esti singur, oricati prieteni din toate cercurile ai avea. Si iluzia de a imparti pe jumate neimplinirile tale ca om unei alte persoane, daoare mai tare al final cand descoperi ca celalalt n-are nici un chef, ba chiar considera neplacerile proprii mai importante decat ale tale.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;God, don't you know that I live with a ton of regret? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Cause I used to move you in a way that you've never known&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;But then I accused you in a way that you've never known &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;But you've hurt me in a way that I've never known...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cred ca sunt 2 feluri de ipocrizie. Una asumata, pe care lumea o recunoaste repede si o acuza si mai repede. E ca un fel de piesa de teatru dar devine inofensiva deorece actorul ii stie limitele, si se opreste atucni cand rezultatele se schimba. Cealalta, mult mai grava e parte a tuturor, mai mult sau mai putin, neconstientizata, ceea ce inseeamna ca nu declanseaza nici remuscari, nici constientizara rezultatelor, intr-un cuvant, fericiti cei saraci cu duhu. Macar eu imi recunosc accesele de ipocrizie, din interes sau din dorinta de a simplifica lucrurile. Dureros e felul in care fiecare se eschiveaza de la a se accepta in afara normelor, se contracta, se stramba, se chircesc numai sa fie cum "trebuie". si cand asta se manifesta in lucruri cu adevarat importante atunci rezultatul e de-a dreptul meschin. But, don't cry for me, Argentina.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SLUrGLw5AUI/AAAAAAAAADE/848y6xvLFWs/s1600-h/IMG_3607.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239141126752502082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SLUrGLw5AUI/AAAAAAAAADE/848y6xvLFWs/s320/IMG_3607.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;does it bother you now all the mess I made &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;does it bother you now, the clothes you told me not to wear &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;does it bother you now all the angry games we played &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;does it bother you now when im not there&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-6602257407401398991?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/6602257407401398991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=6602257407401398991' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/6602257407401398991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/6602257407401398991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2008/08/jokers-laugh.html' title='Joker&apos;s laugh'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SLUrGLw5AUI/AAAAAAAAADE/848y6xvLFWs/s72-c/IMG_3607.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-5818464444792784858</id><published>2008-06-23T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:43.871-08:00</updated><title type='text'>capul lui bacu' vrem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;bacu e asa o perioada...pe care o astepti toata cls a 12a...adik nu o astepti, o pomenesti, faci glume haha ti-ai invat..nuu ehh las ca ne descurcam noi. dupa treaba devine serioasa si te astepti sa se intample vreo iluminare de la toata lucururile concetrate in cateva saptamani, poate cateva zile inaintea lui. parca simti ca in cap ai numai post-ituri colorate lipite de-a valma in functie de materie, de subiect, de varianta si ti se face greata de cate ori citesti sau repeti ceva, rau de la atatea litere care se unesc intre ele de prea putine ori. singurulul lucru pe care mai pot sa-l asimilez sunt meciurile (slava dlui!) cea mai diluata informatie posibila. ma uit des in oglinda sa observ daca nu cumva am capu mai tuguiat sau se citeste vreo scilipire geniala in ochi-mi. ca sa nu mai numaram orele de disperata incercare de a dormi, defect ineducabil, cultivat din copilarie. si partea cea mai proasta &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215181426161149506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SGAL4DmM5kI/AAAAAAAAAC8/bYmV5WLVvXs/s320/licart.JPG" border="0" /&gt;e ca in raport cu plinurile astea intelectuale, toate par goluri.cum ar fi sa traiesti mancand doar maru intelepciunii? dar...razbim noi cumva...la lumina..?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-5818464444792784858?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/5818464444792784858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=5818464444792784858' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/5818464444792784858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/5818464444792784858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2008/06/capul-lui-bacu-vrem.html' title='capul lui bacu&apos; vrem'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SGAL4DmM5kI/AAAAAAAAAC8/bYmV5WLVvXs/s72-c/licart.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-3601212732834733211</id><published>2008-06-14T12:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:44.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>c'est fini, la comedie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SFQiEdg1BvI/AAAAAAAAAC0/nkGeibwOvm4/s1600-h/DSCN1101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211828128811648754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SFQiEdg1BvI/AAAAAAAAAC0/nkGeibwOvm4/s320/DSCN1101.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;This town is colder now, I think it's sick of us&lt;br /&gt;It's time to make our move, I'm shakin off the rust&lt;br /&gt;I'm staring down myself, counting up the years&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm moving but I go nowhere&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I know that everyone gets scared&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;sunt momente, cam din 4 in 4 ani (si nu alegerile) cand te chinui sa profiti de ultimele secunde minute, zile repetandu-ti in cap ca se termina, si ca la final totu tbuie sa fie mai bine decat in tot timpu asta. desi situatia devine mai grava cu atat cu cat ai mai putine etape d'astea in perspectiva. cred k undeva oamenii ori supraliciteaza ori subliciteaza mom de trecere dintr-un stadiu in altu tocmai pt ca le e teama ca nu au facut tot ce trbuia, pt ca nu sunt siguri ca ce va urma va fi cel putin la fel de bine. eu am ramas in faza de nu-mi vine sa cred si prefer sa ramana asa in tot momentu asta de gol itnre doua etape. n-as putea spune sigur ce vreau sau ce astept, si m-am saturat de starea de animatie pentru succese viitoare...si ca sa-l parafrazez pe Moromete...cum sa traiesti, daca nu esti fericit?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-3601212732834733211?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/3601212732834733211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=3601212732834733211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3601212732834733211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3601212732834733211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2008/06/cest-fini-la-comedie.html' title='c&apos;est fini, la comedie'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SFQiEdg1BvI/AAAAAAAAAC0/nkGeibwOvm4/s72-c/DSCN1101.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-3407373272777365082</id><published>2008-05-02T02:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:44.189-08:00</updated><title type='text'>no sky for your sun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SBrf7yOTDhI/AAAAAAAAACs/4R8__FcSmSQ/s1600-h/half-life.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195711338312306194" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SBrf7yOTDhI/AAAAAAAAACs/4R8__FcSmSQ/s200/half-life.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Eu as vrea ca fiecare lucru sa-mi apartina de parca n-as iubi nimic pe lume in afara acelui lucru; dar le vreau pe toate si am mainile goale."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu ma vad din afara ca un regizor surd. Adica nu ma aud doar gandeasc ce am zis. Daia cre ca mi-ar fi greu sa fac meseria asta. Si mai imi fac si scenarii. asta mai mult dimineata si seara. uneori cred ca mi-ar fi mai bine noaptea decat ziua. adica tu nu simti ca esti mai mult tu noaptea? e ceva ce ma innebuneste, nu stiu inca in ce colt sau unde din minte, de fapt nu cred ca vreau sa-mi dau seama pentru ca poate as vrea sa-i dau curs, si s-o ia mama naibii de treaba ca eu numai de asta nu am timp. si nici curaj. adica, paradoxal, am din ce in ce mai putin curaj. si eu credeam ca dupa ce devii major si scapi de ai tai ai lumea la picioare ca ei te tin in loc. aiurea te iubesti mai mult decat te iubesc ai tai cum ai putea sa-ti risti pielea, si onoarea si tot ce crezi tu ca-i strans in atatatia ani. Ah, si-mi ziceai ca vrei o fata cu liceu terminat. Pai, tu nu-ntelegi ca nu mai e fata, e deja femeie, are griji, chestii, scopuri in viata. Adica la saispe-saptespe ani mai merge, mai cu marea, mai cu visele, mai cu vama. A cam trecut vremea, si parca as vrea altceva, multe altceva-uri, multe optiuni care sa urle la mine ca in Alice din Tara Minunilor, ia-ma, bea-ma, manaca-ma. Si eu sa iau in fiecare zi din alta pana imi place una prea mult, da sa stiu ca si restu raman acolo, expuse, gata sa le iau la pachet. As innebuni sa stiu ca eu as putea reprezenta doar o oferta. Si asta paradoxal pentru ca nu stiu nici eu ce reprezint uneori. Tu nu simti cum te scurgi? de fapt nu ca te scurgi, asta ar insemna sa ajungi dintr-un loc in altul, sa iei diferite forme, eh, ar fi prea interesant. Te scurgi si tu asa ca intr-o clepsidra, ca nisipu' ala colorat, pac-pac, dintr-o parte in alta, fara sa te termin cu totu. macar sa zici ca ai temrinat-o si o iei de la inceput. sau ca gata asta e capu, aste-as picioarele asa tbuie sa stau. Nu, te muti asa ametitor, fara sa mai tii minte cum a inceput totu'. Asa-i?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-3407373272777365082?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/3407373272777365082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=3407373272777365082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3407373272777365082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3407373272777365082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2008/05/no-sky-for-your-sun.html' title='no sky for your sun'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SBrf7yOTDhI/AAAAAAAAACs/4R8__FcSmSQ/s72-c/half-life.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-6269423713952432520</id><published>2008-03-18T04:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:44.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>on your way to runaway</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R9--7_za2AI/AAAAAAAAACk/DEx4lZ06EuE/s1600-h/collage4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179068034448021506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R9--7_za2AI/AAAAAAAAACk/DEx4lZ06EuE/s400/collage4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And so it is &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just like you said it would be &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Life goes easy on me &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Most of the time &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;No love, no glory No hero&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Noi ne schimbam si vremurile odata cu noi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si n-ai stiut sa inchizi usa dupa tine....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;De cat timp ma rog sa se intample ceva nou, sa izbucneasca ceva, ceva-ul ala care palpita si se dilata pana la punctul de implozie...numai ca cevaurile au un talent sa se intample toate la un loc incat nu mai stii sigur ce iti doreai inainte. dincolo de lucrurile pe care le tinem strans sa nu se desfaca, le carpim, le coasem la loc pana nu mai seamana deloc cu ce erau inainte, vine faptul in sine care te izbeste cu puterea lucrului pe acre n-ai fi putut sa il admiti fiindca, nu-i asa, &lt;em&gt;atat de rau nu poa sa fie.&lt;/em&gt; de parca dincolo de haha-uri si zambete camera nu sa rastoarna cu susul in jos, nu se invarte in minte, si ce-i mai ciudat e ca voua vi se pare normal, perfect explicabil si mai ales necesar ... si atunci intr-o singura secunda lumea cade in fund si eu in cap &lt;em&gt;cand tu intrai pe usa...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I think I'm a dreamer, I dream my life away, my eyes wide shut&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;stiu, e ciudat, mai ales ca simt luciditatea in ceafa zbierandu-mi sa ma trezesc sa revin cu &lt;em&gt;piciorele pe pamant &lt;/em&gt;adica sa ma intorc brusc la 180 de grade si eu si camera, ca de ce am ajusn sa sfidam gravitatia si toti ochii aia uitandu-se in gol la mine n-au inteles ca eu am astept asta, ca senzatia de cadere e singurul lucru mi-a ramas din visele in care zburam si plonjam acolo pe plaja, si ma trezeam de fiecare data inainte de a ajunge acolo. si ca niciodata asta nu ma speriat pentru ca undeva eram tot eu care ma salvam si n-as putea sa las pe altcineava sa faca asta, sau nu vreau dar acum ma imbat cu bruma asta de inconstienta si trag din ea ca din ultima tigara pe luna asta, sau dintr-un joint pe care nu l-am fumat niciodata pentru ca n-am stiu cum. si doar frica, frica ca n-ai putea sa mergi pana la capat, nu stiu ce inseamna asta poate e maine sau la vara sau poate nu e nevoie decat de o ora, sau ca n-ai sa-ti dai seama ca se intampla &lt;em&gt;ceva &lt;/em&gt;pe care il controlez doar prin faptul ca nu vreau sa il stric ma opreste sa las lucrurile sa se intample intr-o ordine noua. sau poate mi-e frica sa stric secunda aia de izbucnire cu un car de planuri de viitor care oricum nu-si urmeaza firul logic...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did I say that I loathe you? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did I say that I want to &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Leave it all behind? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I can't take my mind off of you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;My mind...my mind... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Til I find somebody new&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-6269423713952432520?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/6269423713952432520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=6269423713952432520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/6269423713952432520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/6269423713952432520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2008/03/on-your-way-to-runaway.html' title='on your way to runaway'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R9--7_za2AI/AAAAAAAAACk/DEx4lZ06EuE/s72-c/collage4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-7079818517364491051</id><published>2008-02-05T13:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:44.549-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R6jgM3fYMkI/AAAAAAAAACc/NZ43hD7YzXo/s1600-h/scoala+079.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163623484438884930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R6jgM3fYMkI/AAAAAAAAACc/NZ43hD7YzXo/s320/scoala+079.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saw the world turning in my sheets &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And once again, I cannot sleep&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Walk out the door and up the street&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Look at the stars beneath my feet &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Remember rights that I did wrong&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;ce n-as da sa o ia razna vremea sa fie brusc afara acum 30 de grade sa scot capu pe geam si sa fie ma cald si mai calm decat inauntru, sa fie liniste, ca si cand toata presiunea atmosferica ar sta pe loc, sa se dilate si timpul de la caldura asta neasteptata, sa intepeneasca tot, sa pot sa simt ca tot ce fac nu e&lt;em&gt; inutil&lt;/em&gt; tocmai pentru ca orice lucru &lt;em&gt;normal&lt;/em&gt; e &lt;em&gt;inutil&lt;/em&gt; in conditii&lt;em&gt; speciale.&lt;/em&gt; sa nu mai vina nimic spre mine, ca un stop-cadru in care pornesti tu pe urmele lucrurilor care iti dau tarcoale, in care ai destul timp sa te uiti la ele si sa le analizezi ca pe jucarille, cartile sau orice alte lucruri pe care le ai in vitrina, prin bibilioteca. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;There is no place I cannot go &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;My mind is muddy but&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;My heart is heavy, does it show &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I lose the track that loses me&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;pana si o carte mi-e greu sa cumpar pentru ca m-ar putea duce &lt;em&gt;undeva, &lt;/em&gt;in care lucrurile se schimba, si iarasi &lt;em&gt;play&lt;/em&gt;, iara vin spre tine mai multe si incontrolabile si nu conteaza atat ca ele exista cat ca la un moment dat o sa treaca &lt;em&gt;prin tine,&lt;/em&gt; si ceva din ele o sa ramana &lt;em&gt;in tine, &lt;/em&gt;si deja sutn atat de multe, si diferite, si vor fiecare, au o vointa proprie, o durere proprie, cred ca ajung sa si iubeasca singure, sau sa se iubeasca atat de mult pe ele incat sa nu te mai lase sa le schimbi, sa le arunci. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And maybe someday we will meet&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And maybe talk and not just speak &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't buy the promises 'cause &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;There are no promises I keep, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;and my reflection troubles me&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;n-am putut niciodata sa ma depasesc, intodeauna mi-am luat-o inainte...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm not calling for a second chance&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Give me reason, but don't give me choice,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cos I'll just make the same mistake again&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-7079818517364491051?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/7079818517364491051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=7079818517364491051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7079818517364491051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7079818517364491051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2008/02/saw-world-turning-in-my-sheets-and-once.html' title=''/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R6jgM3fYMkI/AAAAAAAAACc/NZ43hD7YzXo/s72-c/scoala+079.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-7440597356880028391</id><published>2008-01-24T10:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:44.642-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bus stop</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R5jggHfYMjI/AAAAAAAAACU/0bRdoJ2Vft8/s1600-h/IMG_3073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159120215523996210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R5jggHfYMjI/AAAAAAAAACU/0bRdoJ2Vft8/s320/IMG_3073.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;All around me are familiar faces&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Worn out places, worn out faces&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bright and early for their daily races&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Going nowhere, no expression &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;de cand ma stiu ma trezesc imaginandu-mi ca traiesc, &lt;em&gt;altceva, &lt;/em&gt;apropape fascinant, dar pe care n-as putea s ail traiesc acum nu pentru ca ar fi imposibil si pentru ca nu sunt &lt;em&gt;eu &lt;/em&gt;inca cum ma vad, pentru ca n-am devenit inca ce-mi imaginam si inca ma mai trag inapoi nimicuri, sau poate lucruri importante pe care nu le iei in calcul in &lt;em&gt;viata ta ideala. &lt;/em&gt;sau poate e prea trist sa stii ca ceva e imposibil, ca e o nepotrivire de caractere intre &lt;em&gt;tine&lt;/em&gt; si &lt;em&gt;viata ta perfecta,&lt;/em&gt; inaltatoare, pasionanta. si pentru atata lucuru sa divortezi de ea?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;sa te schimbi?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;sa devii una cu ea?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;sa o schimbi pe ea?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;sa nu mai fii?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I feel the way that every child should&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sit and listen, sit and listen &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Went to school and I was very nervous&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;No one knew me, Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Look right through me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;ma oboseste in fiecare dimineata imi dau seama ca pana si visele de peste noapte sunt mai intense decat tot ce traiesc peste zi, sunt &lt;em&gt;multe, &lt;/em&gt;sunt fara regrete asa cum imi place mie. de fapt asa ar si trebui sa fie nu? sa traiesti multumit ca ai visat ce n-ai trait si ai trait bine, ai facut tot ce &lt;em&gt;trebuia. &lt;/em&gt;ca societatea e formata din oameni care nu te lasa sa fii mai mult decat au fost ei, tematori ca ai putea sa nu trebuiasca sa visezi atat de des, sa n-ai nevoie de vietile altora din reviste, ecrane. ca ai putea sa tresalti mai puternic decat ei.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I find it kind of funnyI find it kind of sad&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;The dreams in which I'm dying&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Are the best I've ever had&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;nici macar aeru de afara nu imi mai promite ca se intampla ceva. "Coborati?". Nu, uneori intepenesc asa in dreptu usii. am o pasiunea nebuna sa ma prefac ca o sa cobor la prima si sa te pun sa ma astepti. macar tu poti sa ma ocolesti. altii inca sunt in acelasi autobuz cu mine. astepta sa cobor. n-au inteles ca &lt;em&gt;eu in mintea mea&lt;/em&gt; am coborat si am urcat de sute de mii de ori. ca desi eu cred ca sunt femeia care coboara la fiecare statie interesanta de fapt mi-e al dracului de frica sa aleg. pentru ca s-ar putea sa pierd autobuzu asta si altu nu stiu. si de unde dracu gasesti bilet la ora asta??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;When people run in circles&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's a very, very&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mad World&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-7440597356880028391?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/7440597356880028391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=7440597356880028391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7440597356880028391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7440597356880028391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2008/01/bus-stop.html' title='Bus stop'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R5jggHfYMjI/AAAAAAAAACU/0bRdoJ2Vft8/s72-c/IMG_3073.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-8169677221800189154</id><published>2008-01-10T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T14:07:50.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't  know why</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Oh, look what you've done&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You've made a fool of everyone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh well, it seems likes such fun&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Until you lose what you had won&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anii trec mai repede pe masura ce incepi sa inveti sa-i numeri...mai ales descndent...cat mai e pana...iau buletinu...pana fac 16 ani...pana devin major...pana ajung la facultate. dupa devine o chestie relativa pe care oricum nu mai ai timp sa o numeri asa ca trece si mai repede. fiecare popas pe care il face te costa de 2 ori mai mult decat te ajuta. &lt;em&gt;we don't grow up we just grow older...&lt;/em&gt; e ca o ruleta care se invarte si la care trebuie sa pariezi, si oricum daca pariezi cine stie in cat la suta din cazuri o sa castigi. toate optiunile ti se invartesc in jur, negru sau rosu, primii 20 sau ultimii, cu sau fara sot, numere sau altceva mult mai subtil decat ai vrea sa intelegi vreodata sau sa simti. si atunci cand castigi in afara de satisfactia de moment obtii orgoliul tau in fata celorlalti care invidiosi, raniti, enervati sau pur si simplu intrigati te-ar zbura imediat din locu in care te afli. si nu, nu e un loc moale. cand te simti ghinionist schimbi masa. schimbi anturaju. dinauntrul lor aceeasi ochi obositi si dornici sa ti-o ia inainte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You're calling me mad&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But i know you're the same&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause you got to be seen to be playing the game&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;tot fumu din tigara se impregneaza in ceata asta morbida si enervant de poluanta in timp ce nu stiu dcat  ca nu mi-as dori sa fiu aici, singura in camera cu veioza aprinsa si o carte de germana aprinsa, cu termene si examene legate de gat, si numarand tampeniile pe care le-am facut si o sa le fac in continuare, alegeril epe care evit sa le fac din placerea de a avea atatea optiuni, care pana la urma isi pierd orice interes ca un platou de prajituri pe care il ai tot timpu la cap pana ti se face greata. greata...nu mai degraba o stare de plictiseala instictuala si motivationala, usor sarcastica, putin pesimista cu un aer de dezgustare. cand nu-ti ajunge ce ai si te plictisesti vrei mai mult, dar ajungi sate plicisesti si de &lt;em&gt;multul &lt;/em&gt;ala pe care il vrei pentru ca dureaza de atat timp. si totusi nu stii c sa-ti doresti altceva. cred ca e un fel de definitie pentru blazare. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Beauty queen of only eighteen&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;She had some trouble with herself&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;He was always there to help her&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;She always belonged to someone else&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;cam asta ar fi un fel de epilog intr-un moment in care am obosit sa fiu ceea ce vroiam sa fiu. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-8169677221800189154?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/8169677221800189154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=8169677221800189154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/8169677221800189154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/8169677221800189154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2008/01/oh-look-what-youve-done-youve-made-fool.html' title='don&apos;t  know why'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-2663980002145915081</id><published>2007-12-13T11:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:44.970-08:00</updated><title type='text'>albinchis aproapenegru</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R2Gjl9FtDCI/AAAAAAAAACM/ADB9Zm2XfNw/s1600-h/minimalist.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143572121882790946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R2Gjl9FtDCI/AAAAAAAAACM/ADB9Zm2XfNw/s320/minimalist.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;curios cum nu imi mai displace frigul atat de tare. a ajuns chiar sa-mi place.nu, nu frigu ala umed, intepator, urban violent, care te degradeaza ca pe un animal epilat. frigu suportabil, care curata, in care iti simti creieru dat pe refresh, pus la congelator, care te face sa simti, orice, mult mai puternic, mai adevarat. parca toate becurile lumineaza mai tare, parca esti mult mai mare pe &lt;em&gt;dinauntru.&lt;/em&gt; si de data asta e iarna, pura, fara amintiri cu bucuresti, fara planuri de revelion, intr-o singuratate plina de persective. multa noapte, rece, luminata, si ah, cum as putea sa o iau de la inceput cand am ajuns sa ma detasez. cum as putea sa imi iau din nou acelasi avant cand la sfarsitul sariturii constati ca n-ai rezolvat nimic, ca din cauza ca te-ai pregatit si ai pierdut atat timp dandu-te inapoi sa ai elan nu mai are nici o valoare, &lt;em&gt;toata lumea a plecat acasa&lt;/em&gt; nu vezi? e cas si cum as primi de craciun ce imi doream la 5 ani, si as putea sa-ti spun sigur ca era o barbie cu richie cu fluturasi si bagheta, dar n-as mais imti placerea aia, unica. si de ce sa imi mai doresc ceva atat de puternic, cand stiu ca atunci &lt;em&gt;cand o sa vina &lt;/em&gt;o sa fie mult prea tarziu, si poate doar un obiect in plus fata de care te simti usor responsabiil si penibil. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;All I wish is to dream again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My loving heart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lost in the dark&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;For hope I'd give my everything&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-2663980002145915081?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/2663980002145915081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=2663980002145915081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2663980002145915081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2663980002145915081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/12/albinchis-aproapenegru.html' title='albinchis aproapenegru'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R2Gjl9FtDCI/AAAAAAAAACM/ADB9Zm2XfNw/s72-c/minimalist.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-2127334410684255780</id><published>2007-11-23T10:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:45.338-08:00</updated><title type='text'>otherWise</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R0cnSOghvJI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Xta01OdDEaw/s1600-h/IMG_0348.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136117094124993682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R0cnSOghvJI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Xta01OdDEaw/s320/IMG_0348.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;ma ingrozeste orice planificare pe care o fac, pe are trebuie sa o fac. orice plan pe care cineva si-l face pentru si cu mine.parca intodeauna cu cat pregatesti mai mult si ti-l imaginez mai detaliat zboara realitatea si mai departe de imaginea ta. e ca un zbot de flururi mici si negri dand repede-repede din aripi cu un zgomot fashait, in timp ce incepi sa tremuri &lt;em&gt;inauntru,&lt;/em&gt; sa ti se contracte muschii, stomacul, ca si cum toate organale iti sunt stranse in acelasi timp de o mana gigantica &lt;em&gt;dinauntrul&lt;/em&gt; tau. pupilele se dilata si absorb mii, milioane de imagini pe secunde\a, imagini care exista sau nu, ca intr-un deja-vue ametitor. nici o lacriam, nici un zambat in coltu gurii, doar privirea aia tampa, goala si plina in acelasi timp cu sclipiri de nebun primavaratec. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;butterflies are coming … are coming&lt;br /&gt;Butterflies are coming …to&lt;br /&gt;change our ways …&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;nu...nu pot sa fiu eu amandoua in acelasi timp. si ajung sa nu fiu mai nimic pentru nimeni. nu m-am dat cu totu niciodata. nimanui in afara de mine. cum sa ma reneg si sa ma pun in mainile altcuiva? caci tu oricat ai fi de &lt;em&gt;ca mine&lt;/em&gt; esti &lt;em&gt;celalalt. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;welcome to the silence &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;give I give&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;singurul moment de vointa, de dor, de deicize se pierde in fata voastra. deodata cand &lt;em&gt;e&lt;/em&gt; nu mai vreau nimic. mia ajusn simplul fapt ca-l pot avea. sau poate ideea. lumea mea se invarte incontinuu in jurul vostru si daca nu te invarti o data cu ea nu o sa o ajungi niciodata. ma pierd si ma regasesc altfel cu aceeasi voluptate cum nimeni n-a facut-o pana acum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;the signs are all &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;shifting, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;unclear unclear &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;can’t tell what I see from&lt;br /&gt;what I hear.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;si-mi dispretuiesc tota banalitatea asta exterioara si toate incercarile de a parea diferita, unica, cea mai nu stiu cum cand nu gasesc nici un scop prea bun ca sa imi doresc sa evoluez din ce in ce mai mult. o inventie brevetata complet inutila. un colt de ziar la mondene. un premiu pt creativitate si ambitie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;nimic palpabil &lt;em&gt;inauntru. &lt;/em&gt;uleios. instabil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-2127334410684255780?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/2127334410684255780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=2127334410684255780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2127334410684255780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/2127334410684255780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/11/otherwise.html' title='otherWise'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/R0cnSOghvJI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Xta01OdDEaw/s72-c/IMG_0348.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-5765474444369508173</id><published>2007-11-03T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:45.514-08:00</updated><title type='text'>cathaleptic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Ry0D7LvuKzI/AAAAAAAAABk/_1TQ1Zdp724/s1600-h/IMG_8430.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128759865944976178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Ry0D7LvuKzI/AAAAAAAAABk/_1TQ1Zdp724/s320/IMG_8430.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;uneori am senzatia ca lumea e doar un cerc inauntrul meu, care se mareste se micsoreaza, dar care ramane &lt;em&gt;inauntru. &lt;/em&gt;uneori am senzatia ca tu nici macar nu &lt;em&gt;existi&lt;/em&gt;. sau nu &lt;em&gt;existi&lt;/em&gt; asa cum cred eu. tu esti creatia mea, o parte din&lt;em&gt; Lili a mea.&lt;/em&gt; ca atunci cand megi cu masina si te uti pe geam si ca sa nu-ti vina rau incepi sa vezi lucruri care-ti distrag atentia. de fapt asta invatam s afacem, cand nu ne placem ne uitam pe geam si vedem altceva. jucam. inventam. ne autodistragem atentia. pana ajungi unde trebuie. dupa cu parere de rau cobori. unde &lt;em&gt;trebuia.&lt;/em&gt; tot momentul asta e un oftat cosmic ca si cum tot prezentul asta se contracteaza in jurul unui trecut viitor care nu a existat niciodata. ca si eu cu tine. ca si eu cu voi. noi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is that alright, yeah? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Give my gun away when it's loaded&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;If you don't shoot it how am I supposed to hold it&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;nu stiu daca tremurul asta il simte cineva stand langa mine. eu nu lam simtit la nimeni. sau am fugit cand am crezut ca-l simt. de tremurul ala interior ca de vulcan topit si fortat sa se strecoare. e o priveliste cel putn rspingatoare prin dovada asta totala de neputinta a unui lucru atat de maret. e ca si cum un plaman uras s-ar sufoca de la fumul de tigara. e intreaga frica noastra in fata fricii fiecaruia. e neacceptare si superficialitate fortata. e fuga. ascundere. dispret. mi-e si scarba sa-ti explic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Leave me out with the waste&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;This is not what I do &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's the wrong kind of place&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;To be thinking of you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's the wrong time &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;For somebody new &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's a small crime &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I've got no excuse&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;in viata mea palpita un imens Nu Stiu ca singurul lucru care imi mai tine creirul activ. ca singura speranta in fata a Nimic. ca salvare si blestem. ca aspiratie si fuga de compromis. ca salvare a celui fericit ca-i sara cu duhu si constiinta cretina a celui prea inteligent sa isi permita inconstienta. ca doua directii opus care te trag in parti diferite pana ajung sa te faca sa cuprinzi pamantul in brate si sa il sufoci. sa mori din dragoste de Nu Stiu. sa traiesti ca sa af;i pana la urma ce nu stiai. sa cauti si iar a cauti iar cand gasesti sa negi ca era ce ai cautat. ca un caine care isi plimba singur osul de coada. ca un orb care sta cu ochi inchisi. ca mine. ca tine. ca voi. si noi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is that alright with you?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-5765474444369508173?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/5765474444369508173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=5765474444369508173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/5765474444369508173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/5765474444369508173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/11/cathaleptic.html' title='cathaleptic'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Ry0D7LvuKzI/AAAAAAAAABk/_1TQ1Zdp724/s72-c/IMG_8430.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-153206252288095042</id><published>2007-10-12T05:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:45.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Niemand strasse</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rw9sYTazb3I/AAAAAAAAABc/Nx2HVaU74Ao/s1600-h/oldskoolmic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120430466128899954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rw9sYTazb3I/AAAAAAAAABc/Nx2HVaU74Ao/s320/oldskoolmic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jeanny, quit livin' on dreams&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jeanny, life is not what it seems&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Such a lonely little girl in a cold, cold world&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There's someone who needs you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toata viata astepti sa se intample ceva. Sa vina. Ceva. Si atunci te opresti si nu e nimic. Si dintr-o data tot ce-ti planificasei, tot ce sustineai us si tare ca o sa faci, 2 facultati, job-uri, filme , cariere, pac pac blitzuri, carti, idei, oameni cad asa una cate una cu viteza realitatii.Si ce e mai ironic e ca te lauzi tuturor cu ce vrei sa faci, cu decizia te pe care ai luat-o inca de acum 2 ani. Tu esti genu care isi urmeaza visele nu? tu vrei sa fii unica, invingatoare, nu nu esti ca parintii, rudele, colegii tu chiar iti permiiti sa vrei sa fii tu insati?sau poate esti atat de egocentrica incat crezi k a fi tu insati poate fi meserie de succes. poate deschizi si o facultate...Cum sa devii noua A.... crezi k lumea da buzna sa te vada, sa te auda, sa te divinizeze si daca poate sa plece fara sa ceara nimic? Pentru ambitia ta suprema?pentru ca a fi diferita de ceilalti poate sa-te faca fericita? SI ce uimire pe tine cand te uiti in jur si vezi ca oamenii aia chiar nu sunt de acord cu tie, chiar traiesc foarte bine fara tine, chiar nu te cunosc sau nu vor sa te cunoasca. chiar au o viata a lor pe care tu o consideri mediocra. tu si constiinta ta supradimensionata e timpul sa faceti cunostiinta cu realitate. smile and wave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jeanny, quit livin' on dreams&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jeanny, life is not what it seems&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You're lost in the night, don't wanna struggle and fight&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There's someone, who needs you, babe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si nu stiu cum brusc nu mai vreau. nu mai rveau sa se temrine liceu asta prost da o inchisoare preferabila. Tot ce e dupa liceu mi se pare prostitutie. Prostitueaza-te la bac ca sa-l iei si inchideti universu de invat la 5-6 materii. Prostituaza-te pt amditere, invata cuvant cu cuvant, inchideti si mai mult orizontu, zambeste fals si pare ca te bucuri ca te afli acolo, ca nu stii ca altii au dat spaga, ca nu mai prinzi nici un loc in camin pt ca si l-au cumparat altii inainte, ca tre s aiesi la vanatoare sa-ti faci pile, sa faci rost de servici, de bani, de prieteni noi, de toale, de scenarii...Da Constanta e un oras prea mic pe care il cunosti prea bine in 19 ani...Si Bucureastiu e un oras cu prea multe posibilitati pentru mine, pentur un om care nu ca nu poate alege, dar nu vrea sa se limiteze, nu vrea sa renunte la alte posbilitati. Si eu cui ma vand? Stiintei?Scenei?Diavolului din mine sau din voi? Sau raman asa ca o carte prea groasa pe raft, pe care nu o cumpara nimeni pentru ca e mult prea mare si prea scumpa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wer hat verloren? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Du dich?Ich mich? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oder, oder wir uns?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-153206252288095042?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/153206252288095042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=153206252288095042' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/153206252288095042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/153206252288095042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/10/niemandstrasse.html' title='Niemand strasse'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rw9sYTazb3I/AAAAAAAAABc/Nx2HVaU74Ao/s72-c/oldskoolmic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-1022357671780941460</id><published>2007-09-28T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T13:52:45.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and it's all spinning around</title><content type='html'>all in my head....toata lumea asta scrisa in celulele mele, toti atomii ocncentrati intr-un spatiu atat de mic...toate drumurile si posibilitatile...si...doar atat. i tried to be good i just....nu gasesc finalurile frazelor nimic bun, nimic din ce as putea sa spun si safie bine, nimic cimplet numai bucatii, fasii , litere aruncate alandala in graba de a nu scapa nimic....nimic din ce mi-ar face bine sau mi-ar trebui acum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;toata lumea asta as apuca-o intr-o mana...si parca nimic nu e in proportie egala iluzie si realitate asa ca mine. in fiecare  e mai mult sau mai putin..si fiecare musca din ce-i lipseste pana ramai o foaie roase de soareic fara forma fara dleimitari fara prejudecati si principii esti un om liber, ata de liber incat nu stii ce sa faci, Trebuie sa faci si asta te darama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;V-am dat sufletul, lasati-mi numele&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-1022357671780941460?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/1022357671780941460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=1022357671780941460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1022357671780941460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1022357671780941460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/09/and-its-all-spinning-around.html' title='and it&apos;s all spinning around'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-5995097179820522623</id><published>2007-09-04T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T15:49:04.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>gone to rehab</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I don’t ever wanna drink againI just, ooo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I just need a friend&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Im not gonna spend 10 weeks&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;have everyone think im on the mend&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It’s not just my pride&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It’s just til these tears have dried&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm still here. and i'm not proud. partea buna e ca toate lucrurile devin la un moment dat clare. si fara perdele inutile. e &lt;em&gt;fara reguli, fara bagaje&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;cum va place &lt;/em&gt;sec sau cu apa minerala. mai multe autostrazi prin creier, mai multe maini, picioare, lucruri amestecate, nus eu, sau poate doar acum...i just miss the simple things. and without you will all is just simple stangely complicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My heart is drenched in wine &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But you'll be on my mind &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Forever&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-5995097179820522623?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/5995097179820522623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=5995097179820522623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/5995097179820522623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/5995097179820522623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/09/gone-to-rehab.html' title='gone to rehab'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-3351923730607778293</id><published>2007-09-03T04:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:45.919-08:00</updated><title type='text'>bittersweet simphony</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rtv6d2vjPvI/AAAAAAAAABU/8BIHm2qMUkU/s1600-h/collage8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105949993372696306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rtv6d2vjPvI/AAAAAAAAABU/8BIHm2qMUkU/s400/collage8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nu stiu daca ploaia &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mi-a spalat toate pacatele. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nu stiu daca visul mai e real.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;de multe ori m-am intors din drum. de atatea ori ma apucase cineva din spate de mana. sau poate era doar o impresie. uneori am apucam singura. uneori am apuca de ambele maini. dar stiam ca a doua zi iar o sa ma tin singura de mana. cand te plictisesti iti bagi mainile in buzunar. doat atat deocamdata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I’ve been your puppet, been your friend, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I’ve been your backstage door&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I was your best supporting act, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;can’t play no more &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;ca actor intotdeauna cauti o scena. pentru un stand-up, o stagiune, un an sau mai multi. de multe ori te alegi doar cu un &lt;em&gt;one man show. &lt;/em&gt;doar&lt;em&gt; life is a cabaret.&lt;/em&gt; so don't blame me for trying to act.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;it's all just a bitter dry gin&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-3351923730607778293?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/3351923730607778293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=3351923730607778293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3351923730607778293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3351923730607778293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/09/bittersweet-simphony.html' title='bittersweet simphony'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rtv6d2vjPvI/AAAAAAAAABU/8BIHm2qMUkU/s72-c/collage8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-7870185448511856448</id><published>2007-08-29T12:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:46.274-08:00</updated><title type='text'>no hidden catch, no strings attached</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/RtXXnWvjPuI/AAAAAAAAABM/qi8wnxwu-qY/s1600-h/IMG_9126.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104222823814217442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/RtXXnWvjPuI/AAAAAAAAABM/qi8wnxwu-qY/s400/IMG_9126.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;tempora mutantur et nos in illis&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;ciudat cum te faci mare si devii mai mic. ciudat cum stii din toate si niciodata indeajuns de mult dintr-una. ciudat cum te risipesti si ajugi sa te cauti prin toate colturile ca sa te reconstruiesti. puzzle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;e ciudat sa-mi amintesc cum fugeam odata&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;lumea nu era la fel, la fel de ciudata.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;e ciudat sa nu mai fiu plin de nepasare&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;lumea se va stinge-ncet, plina de uitare.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;lumea se invarte si se scurge in tine ca o chiuveta careia i s-a scos dopul si totul se duce la canaaal, iti intra in creier, in sange, inconstient, in chestia aia mare necunoscuta pe care o simti pe dinauntru. si te umfli pana devii tu insati o oglinda, a ta, a tuturor, a realitatii, sau poate a unei mari minciuni pe care o inventezi de cand te stii. nici tu nu te mai crezi. crezi ca astepti ceva, pe cineva?nu astepti nimic esti tu acolo cu propriile sfori si te uiti ca prostu la ele fara sa stii de care sa tragi. te scurgi si tu in tine o data cu lumea si atunci in sfarsit poti sa dormi linistit, &lt;em&gt;ai uitat, &lt;/em&gt;esti liber.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alerg si alerg si incerc sa scap&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alerg si alerg si totul se intampla&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Doar in cap&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;simti, simti cum te invarti intr-o spirala? si te uit la tine, si te indepartezi la fiecare rotire, esti mai departe, dar vezi tot ce ai facut. e ca un &lt;em&gt;deja vue&lt;/em&gt; continuu, cand visele ti se indeplinesc si nu mai stii e sa ceri, sau poate nu ai curaj sa mai ceri fiindca nu stii ce&lt;em&gt; trebuie sa vrei.&lt;/em&gt; toate zidurile astea tu le-ai contruite. acum schiba-le daca poti. fugi. reinventeaza-te. procreaza-te. naste-te pe tine din nou.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;No hidden catch&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;No strings attached&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just free love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;vremurile se schimba si noi odata cu ele&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-7870185448511856448?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/7870185448511856448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=7870185448511856448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7870185448511856448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7870185448511856448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/08/no-hidden-catch-no-strings-attached.html' title='no hidden catch, no strings attached'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/RtXXnWvjPuI/AAAAAAAAABM/qi8wnxwu-qY/s72-c/IMG_9126.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-7299151218847300218</id><published>2007-08-20T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:46.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>delirium tremens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/RsoH0WvjPsI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Yhqmv132mnQ/s1600-h/IMG_7150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100898123990122178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/RsoH0WvjPsI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Yhqmv132mnQ/s320/IMG_7150.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you ever live a day&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like the next day would never come&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;no alcohol, no cigarattes, no drugs...doar un tren care se desprinde din tine si o ia la goana nici tu nu stii unde sau de ce, ce e cu viteza asta, nu esti tu e pur si simplu o parte din tine care fuge si te taraste dupa ea in cat de trezesti la jumatatea drumului si te intrebi...wtf am i going?si la fel de linisit te lasi tarat intr-un carusel cu voluptatea omului care nu-si asuma greselile si nu are remuscari pentru ca pur si simplu...nu a fost el. o forta mai mare decat tine, o nebunie care vrea afara, abia controlabila. and you can't stop it until it's over.it was good, it was bad, but it was real. si poate da cateodata e bine sa iei o gura de realitate. no stories. no romantic american movies. palpabila ca o mana pe spate care te frige. now you try to fight this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you ever find yourself drowning&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;n a dark and crowded bar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;The barman keeps on pouring and you're kissing everyone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;timpul asta se dilata de la caldura parca poti sa-l iei in brate sa-l strivesti, parca se topeste si rvei sa-l prinzi si atunci iar incepe o nebunie din care te trezesti intr-o dimineata fara regrete fara mustrari. fara planuri. carpe diem. &lt;em&gt;who cares&lt;/em&gt;. summertime..am doar 18 ani...vara astaa....&lt;em&gt;who cares.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;The night went up in smoke&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Life is but a joke man&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;But I see nobody laughing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;si mi-e dor de seara in balconu meu singura &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-7299151218847300218?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/7299151218847300218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=7299151218847300218' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7299151218847300218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/7299151218847300218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/08/delirium-tremens.html' title='delirium tremens'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/RsoH0WvjPsI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Yhqmv132mnQ/s72-c/IMG_7150.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-4560264366498738027</id><published>2007-08-12T09:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:46.919-08:00</updated><title type='text'>eden</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rr80h3KDqwI/AAAAAAAAAA0/DivzRi6IwYM/s1600-h/IMG_8741.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097851059553151746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rr80h3KDqwI/AAAAAAAAAA0/DivzRi6IwYM/s320/IMG_8741.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si dac-atata timp a trecut &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;- aproape fara rost -&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;De fapt, totul are rost fara sa stim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;poate ca nu-l iei din prima. poate ca nu te iubeste cand vrei tu.poate ca de obicei toate lucrurile se intampla prea tarziu. si intodeauna ai impresia ca ai intarziat. sau poate lumea asta nu merge in pas cu tine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sa uit - nu invat,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sa-nveti - n-asculti,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;S-ascult - nu pot&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sa poti - nu vrei&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;uenori e mai simplu sa stai. sa mergi cu bicicleta cand ceilalti au 4x4. sa iei toate gropile la rand. sa apesi ambreiaju pan la pamant cand unii au cutie automata. sa crezi ca toate astea sunt bune si sa zambesti pana la capat. sa stii ca-i vara chiar daca te iau ploile pe sus, sa vezi o stea cazatoare care nu exista, sa-i vezi in tine pe ceilalti si totusi sa nu ramai doar &lt;em&gt;o oglinda purtata de-alungul unei oglinzi.&lt;/em&gt; sa faci alegeri....bune, rele, la mijloc, imposibile...sau pur si simplu sa nu le faci.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I never tried to feel&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I never tried to feel this vibration&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I never tried to reach&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I never tried to reach your eden&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;in final esti tot o semnatura pe un teanc de foi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-4560264366498738027?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/4560264366498738027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=4560264366498738027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/4560264366498738027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/4560264366498738027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/08/eden.html' title='eden'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rr80h3KDqwI/AAAAAAAAAA0/DivzRi6IwYM/s72-c/IMG_8741.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-38711597745835738</id><published>2007-07-28T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:47.184-08:00</updated><title type='text'>puzzled</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rrzil3KDqvI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Cbi3F7ORCx0/s1600-h/IMG_8661.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097198018365729522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rrzil3KDqvI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Cbi3F7ORCx0/s320/IMG_8661.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;We'll do it all&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;On our own&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know when you wake up after you had a party at home and everybody left and you're alone to do the cleaning. and you feel all messed up and used like your apartment, and you don't really know where to begin and if it really works... and you realise that world's a tornado, comin fast, hittin than leaves you puzzled and lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't quite know&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How to say,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; how I feel&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I say too much&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But not enough&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;diplomacy is making other feel good when you feel like shit&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-38711597745835738?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/38711597745835738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=38711597745835738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/38711597745835738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/38711597745835738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/07/puzzled.html' title='puzzled'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rrzil3KDqvI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Cbi3F7ORCx0/s72-c/IMG_8661.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-1087286956139710666</id><published>2007-07-12T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:47.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>and i still..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rpacndv8gyI/AAAAAAAAAAk/lZvQe4F1oN4/s1600-h/IMG_7657.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086425030976111394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rpacndv8gyI/AAAAAAAAAAk/lZvQe4F1oN4/s320/IMG_7657.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/RpacDdv8gxI/AAAAAAAAAAc/xlCSj-eUgXQ/s1600-h/IMG_7657.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;living like an already written diary&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;cate-un pic pic pic de caldura, de vara, de majorate...i just wish i had a bathtub with summer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;i'm so tired of playing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;playing with this bow an arrow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;unknown, unplugged just like a ship lost somwhere in the Pacific.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;my heart is beating for the ocean.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;nu, n-ai sa stii...&lt;/em&gt; sau poate?!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm just a mirror for the sun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-1087286956139710666?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/1087286956139710666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=1087286956139710666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1087286956139710666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/1087286956139710666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/07/and-i-still.html' title='and i still..'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rpacndv8gyI/AAAAAAAAAAk/lZvQe4F1oN4/s72-c/IMG_7657.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-3965590785578998712</id><published>2007-07-03T11:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:48.054-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate the world today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Roqtp9JkiYI/AAAAAAAAAAU/zTI172ENqgM/s1600-h/IMG_3771.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083066065741973890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Roqtp9JkiYI/AAAAAAAAAAU/zTI172ENqgM/s320/IMG_3771.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;daca e ceva ce urasc indeajuns de mult incat sa fac crize de nervi, ceea ce rar mi se intampla, e sa vad cum lucruile pe care stiu ca le pot controla se modifica dupa bunul lor plac si trebuie sa dau sterg cu guma in creier si sa ma apuc sa completez din nou paginile, zilele cu alte stari si asteptari. adica acum ar trebui sa las deoparte stresul pe care-l programasem saptamana asta si sa-mi iau starea de vacanta, cu trena mea de carnaval vopsita in fluturi colorati si transparenti falfaind in urma. avantaju de a trai in piata grivitei - nunti orientale. ce rock, ce bach, o impletire de burice si solduri vibrand, bratari zanganind, si ameteala unui dervis invartindu-se intr-un dans hipnotizant. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;all my life been waiting for you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;all the midgets are dancing around you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;inca n-am aflat care realitate e mai &lt;em&gt;adevarata,&lt;/em&gt; asta interioara cu ganduri zburatacite in care ma zbat non-stop, sau aia exterioara, oarecum animalica, sangvina, la care sa recunosc, n-am ajuns decat dedublandu-ma intr-un fel, niciodata indeajuns de mult incat sa fie a mea. cred ca dezavantaju de a fi la mijloc, intre exterior si interior, intre orice extreme, e sa cunosti atat de putin din fiecare incat sa nu cunosti nimic cu adevarat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;and i miss the simple things&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;de cand citesc jurnalul lui cartarescu parca mi-as vedea creierul meu de peste 20 de ani operat. aceeasi stare nasoala ca la salinger. imi vine sa-mi epilez neuronii. sau sa comunicam telepatic. m-am saturat sa vorbesc in cuvintele astea pe care nu le intelege nimeni.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I want tomorrow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-3965590785578998712?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/3965590785578998712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=3965590785578998712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3965590785578998712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/3965590785578998712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-hate-world-today.html' title='I hate the world today'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Roqtp9JkiYI/AAAAAAAAAAU/zTI172ENqgM/s72-c/IMG_3771.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-189771270379831264</id><published>2007-06-30T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T01:22:48.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'>life is a dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rob13O20cAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/en_mzRhzp8Q/s1600-h/IMG_3084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082019558763819010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rob13O20cAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/en_mzRhzp8Q/s320/IMG_3084.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;de catva timp parca traiesc aceeasi zi. in fiecare dimineata ma scol ca sa repet ceva de ieri, de alaltaieri, nici nu mai stiu cand am trait o zi noua ultima data. si asta nu pentru ca as face acelasi lucru in fiecare zi, nu, de asta am eu grija, sa le fracturez, sa le vopsesc in culori noi, in alti oameni, in alte localuri cu alt scop.si totusi parca nu fac decat sa reconstitui &lt;em&gt;ceva, &lt;/em&gt;o urma, un vis pe care il am in fiecare dimineata sau poate l-am avut doar intr-una singura si de atunci in caut fara sa vreau, pe sub cerceafuri, plapumi, in ochii celorlalti, in nisip, in pahare si sticle. si asta &lt;em&gt;acum, &lt;/em&gt;vara, in singurul anotimp cand zilele ar trebui sa fie altfel, ca o divizie marionete sculptate fiecare diferit, manevrate dupa bunul plac. sau poate nici nu a fost un vis nou a fost doar amintirea unuia mai vechi, o revisare, o viata ingropata in cateva secunde de rem si inconstient...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;All the time &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;We were never real&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;All my clocks&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Are beating inside you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-189771270379831264?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/189771270379831264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=189771270379831264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/189771270379831264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/189771270379831264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/06/life-is-dream.html' title='life is a dream'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/Rob13O20cAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/en_mzRhzp8Q/s72-c/IMG_3084.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-117502238140930343</id><published>2007-03-27T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T13:06:21.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>between body &amp; soul</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/1600/120487/IMG_6056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/320/697494/IMG_6056.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And even though the moment passed me by&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I still can't turn away &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Got tossed along the way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And letters that you never meant to send &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Get lost or thrown away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vremea asta ma face sa-mi doresc sa cunosc un nume nou, un nume pe care nu l-am mai auzit, care nu iti aduce aminte de altcineva, un nume cu o singura persoana in minte care sa poata sa iti mai trezeasca o impresie, care sa nu te lege nici un pic de trecut sau de altii, ca un secret pe care nu il stiu nici macar eu, un branci, o zguduire si poate ceva mai mult fara miros de varza murata de la craciun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Scars are souvenirs you never lose&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The past is never fa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;r&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you lose yourself somewhere out there &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you get to be a star&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And don't it make you sad to know that life &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is more than who we are&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uneori parca m-as citi dintr-o carte veche, prafuita, uitata de mine insumi intr-un alt colt din altcineva sau poate eram tot eu...hm....cine stie. mi-e frica de cate ori ma vad din afara inauntru ca o pereche de pantaloni intoarsa pe dos, mai inspaimanta toate cusaturile desfacute si cutele si&lt;em&gt; tot ce nu e&lt;/em&gt; pentru ca &lt;em&gt;e&lt;/em&gt; prea departe&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I won't tell em your name&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-117502238140930343?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/117502238140930343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=117502238140930343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/117502238140930343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/117502238140930343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/03/between-body-soul.html' title='between body &amp; soul'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-117157471467256761</id><published>2007-02-15T13:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T13:25:14.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Decay</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/1600/837579/IMG_5910.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/200/672731/IMG_5910.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How I wish I could surrender my soul;&lt;br /&gt;Shed the clothes that become my skin;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/1600/95721/IMG_5910.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;See the liar that burns within my needing.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"-si tu ce ai mai facut?"&lt;br /&gt;"-ce sa fac? mmbinee."&lt;br /&gt;doar timpul cade pe langa mine in fracturi mai usoare sau mai grele, uneori ascutite, alteori iti vine sa urli pentru ca nu au aceeasi forma. la sfarsit le intrebi ce vor si le maturi. asta e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How I wish I'd chosen darkness from cold.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How I wish I had screamed out loud,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Instead I've found no meaning.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;toate lucrurile simple au gust de ceai racit, acru si lesios. viata ca un ceai de slabit. asta-i titlu bun de telenovela. sa nu-ti vina rau?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All pleasure's the same: it just keeps me from trouble.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cel mai cretin moment e cand realizezi ca toti scriu aceeasi poezie, au doar cuvinte diferite. mi-au stat in gat toate literele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How I wish I could choose between Heaven and Hell.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How I wish I would save my soul.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm so cold from fear.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"-In ce stadiu de evolutie suntem?"&lt;br /&gt;"-I think we're dead but we don't realise it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-117157471467256761?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/117157471467256761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=117157471467256761' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/117157471467256761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/117157471467256761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/02/decay_15.html' title='Decay'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-116871925670356754</id><published>2007-01-13T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T12:14:16.766-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the sho(e) must go on</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/1600/90046/not%20a%20movie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/200/973182/not%20a%20movie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;Sunt ultimul super-erou din viata lor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sunt ultimul super-erou din mintea lor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si pier fara sa stie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ca-n viata nu exista super-eroi...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;... doar cineva ca o pereche de pantofi noi, primiti cadou cu cine stie ce ocazie speciala, pantofi d'aia scumpi, de fitze, pe care ii porti la nunti, botezuri si revelioane si atunci cu mandrie si grija sa nu-i strici, cine stie cat au costat si la cat de finuti sunt s-ar scalcia imediat. o pereche pe care o tii mereu in dulap, o privesi uneori admirativ si cu un zambet complice, pe care n-ai indrazni sa-i porti decat cu toale speciale, la anumite ocazii, prea rare pentru tine mai ales ca nu sunt atat de comozi si ti-ai invatat lectia o data nu mai porti marca asta de pantofi decat rareori, altfel te bat, te obosesc, se zgarie repede si se deformeaza uneori nu cum ai vrea, asa e cand ai de a face cu materiale pretentioase si stii ca deocamdata nu ti-ai permite o alta pereche la fel, intre timp astepti poate intr-un an doi o sa ai mai multe ocazii, o sa ai o masina cu care sa i plimbi ca sa nu se strice pe asfalt, o sa ai o alta tinuta si o sa ti se potriveasca mult mai bine, o sa petreceti mult mai mult timp impreuna si n-o sa-ti mai faca bataturi, o sa se muleze perfect pe piciorul tau si nici nu o sa ii simti. pana atunci astepti o nunta, un botez, o inmormantare s-au macar un alt revelion si stai cu grija sa nu se umple de praf, sa nu se demodeze, sau mai rau, sa nu-ti mai intre piciorul in ei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Le-am daruit in parte&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;O parte&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Din sufletul meu rebel&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si adancit in umbre&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-116871925670356754?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/116871925670356754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=116871925670356754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116871925670356754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116871925670356754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/01/shoe-must-go-on.html' title='the sho(e) must go on'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-116766230092134850</id><published>2007-01-01T06:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T06:44:08.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sfarsit si inceput de an</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/1600/189880/IMG_5624.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/200/458024/IMG_5624.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Happy new year happy new year &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;viata ca o reclama la cafea. Don't worry there's no sugar.&lt;br /&gt;Imi place. Pe 1 sunt strazile goale, e lumea mahmura. azi pana si ceru e.nici nu-ti dai seama daca e dimineata sau seara. e fara regretu' ca ai pierdut o noapte, ca nu te-ai trezit la timp, ca te preseaza ceva. fara liste de "to do's" anu asta si phiuu au mai trecut niste sarbatori pline de stres.time for reality.give me my dark chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Intelege odata ca nu e vina ta&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Intelege mai fato ca vreau altceva&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Intelege ca viata mai joaca si feste&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Intelege ca nu-i...chiar nu-i o poveste&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already know it....but still why do I feel that internal shiver?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-116766230092134850?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/116766230092134850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=116766230092134850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116766230092134850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116766230092134850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2007/01/sfarsit-si-inceput-de.html' title='sfarsit si inceput de an'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-116491814127221731</id><published>2006-11-30T11:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-30T12:22:21.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>perfect spot</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;This time I'm chasing my own dreams to catch... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;This time I'm racing only for myself...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;azi am gasit in mine iarasi autostrada dintre stomac si plamani pe care circul cu febrilitatea diminetii in care te trezesti si ai impresia ca totul e posibil in tine, ca o carte pe care ai scri-o singur, si crezi ca e inceputul fericirii, ca va urma mai mult, fara sa-ti dai seama ca ala e momentul, chiar atunci cand iei pixul in mana si vrei sa scrii primul cuvant pe fila goala din tine.azi i-am iubit pe toti si m-am iertat pe mine, pe mortii si vii din mine, cu mana in aer m-am abtinut sa nu scriu nimic si am tremurat pentru alegerea pe care o faci atunci cand incepi sa-ti mazgalesti paginile cu frici, indoieli, obsesii si indiferenta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It seems the perfect spot...to lose myself&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt; To feel again.... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Would you feel my word? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;More than words can say...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;smile and don't say a word&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Exchange my future for a priceless smile&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt; It seems to be the perfect trade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-116491814127221731?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/116491814127221731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=116491814127221731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116491814127221731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116491814127221731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/11/perfect-spot.html' title='perfect spot'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-116465982004245402</id><published>2006-11-27T12:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T12:37:02.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>wake up, shut up, it's time, smell the coffee</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Nu mai traiesc nimic cu adevarat, desi traiesc cu o intensitate de care simplele senzatii n-ar putea sa dea seama.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;viata mea e ca un carton impartit in 3: o bucata mie, una tie, una celorlalti pe care o desenez intotdeauna cel mai frumos incat ma uit la ea si nu o recunosc, face partea din celuloza mea?pe bucata mea nu-mi scrie decat numele pe care mi-e frica sa-l citesc, ar fi vocea care stinge lumina si ma lasa privindu-ma noapte in oglinda, unul din cosmarurile mele.partea ta e scrisa si stearsa de prea multe ori ca sa mai intelegi ceva si mi-e mila de atata carton irosit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I think I'm paranoid &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Manipulated&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I think I'm paranoid&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Too complicated&lt;/em&gt; &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/200/906741/IMG_4035.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-116465982004245402?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/116465982004245402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=116465982004245402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116465982004245402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116465982004245402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/11/wake-up-shut-up-its-time-smell-coffee.html' title='wake up, shut up, it&apos;s time, smell the coffee'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-116414420842742041</id><published>2006-11-21T10:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T15:01:31.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>we all need pantomime to remind us what's real</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/1600/21573/IMG_2059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="230" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/59/3217/320/902188/IMG_2059.jpg" width="316" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;fiecare zi incepe si se scufunda cu un gust metalic in stomac, ca o criza de astm al realitatii ingramadite dintr-o data in mine si care seamana din ce in ce mai mult cu un desen cu carioci pe hartii rupte din agenda pe care le-as arunca la gunoi sa stiu ca nu ma leaga nimic de ieri sau maine si de data asta e fara regrete&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In golul din mine, niciodata ca tine, ce vise&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In ochi mi se vad trei acorduri, mai triste&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;urasc calendarele, ceasurile, sforile cu care imi trag trecutul dupa mine si caruciorul cu viitor pe care trebuie sa il umpli mai rau decat la supermarket, zilele ca o foaie de drum pe care trebuie sa o completezi, toate vor sa fie reale, dar nu ma simt decat pe mine si golul ala metalic di-nainte de a adormi si ceata cretina de afara astupa toate formele, ma lasa singura intre fascicule de lumina si umezeala care imi rugineste golul si nu ma lasa sa ma evapor cu indoielile din mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Astazi iar, mie dor de tine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oare de ce e doar o concluzie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ieri sa stii nu mi-a fost bine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In mine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uneori cand ma simt prea palpabila ma arunc cu capul inainte intr-o fericire stoarsa de la altii, din orgoliul meu si poate din foste dorinte care abia acum flirteaza cu mine si atunc storc lamaia asta pana raman ca o coaja cu samburi si cu capul aplecat peste geam, si trei etaje pana la asfaltul ala jegos.si punct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Parca sunt si mult prea trist&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cand din mine, ma doare carnea&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e sublim cand toti stiu metoda sigura sa te faca fericit si vin cu retete compensate dar nici macar diagnosticul nu ti-l pun ca lumea. e ca si atunci cand te plimbi intr-un magazin si toti vor sa iti vanda frigidere, ca sunt la oferta si alte alea..atunci tu constientizezi brusc ca ai unul acasa, ca nu-ti trebuie unul nou, nici nu ai resurse, nici dispozitia sa il cumperi, si pe primul nu l-ai folosit decat un an-doi mai are cava timp. pana la urma te alegi cu un congelator sau poate o lada frigorifica si cand ajungi acasa ii zambesti complice frigiderului tau in care ai atata incredere. acum imi dau seama ca n-am ce face eu cu un frigider in viata asta de turista. la sfarsit de noiembrie nu imi trebuie decat cartarescu si luminite noaptea in bucuresti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ma duc sa ma plimb &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Prin viata cuiva, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sa calc in picioare tot ce-ai fost tu.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need social life to keep me sane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Won't you be a friend of mine to remind me what is real?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hold my eye and know what it means&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm out of my mind.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-116414420842742041?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/116414420842742041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=116414420842742041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116414420842742041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116414420842742041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/11/we-all-need-pantomime-to-remind-us.html' title='we all need pantomime to remind us what&apos;s real'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-116376798492589823</id><published>2006-11-17T03:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T12:58:23.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>paranoid eyes-insomnia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/1600/share.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/200/share.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;visez enorm, colorat in dementa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ochiul meu rosu in palma ta stanga si la schimb pe Lili care isi face de cap cand sting lumina cu aceeasi nervozitate si frica musca din mine partea ei, copil nebun ce-mi mesteca somnul ore la rand si nici macar nu pot sa o apuc sa-i spun sa plece, se zbate acolo incontinuu pana cand si ochiul verde devine tot rosu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;alerg si alerg si incerc sa scap&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;alerg si alerg si totul se intampla doar in cap&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pe Lili o dau uneori pe o pastila miiica singura mea certitudine ca ea nu o sa vina inapoi in noapte asta si maine n-am sa ma tarasc cu frica ei in sange.singurul meu regret e ca fara Lili n-am visat niciodata nimic.sau nu-mi amintesc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;dormi langa mine si viseaza-ma ...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;n-are rost sa-ti amintesti ce-a fost&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;fiindca tot ce a fost a trecut...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Iarta-mi visarea si trezeste-ma&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-116376798492589823?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/116376798492589823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=116376798492589823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116376798492589823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116376798492589823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/11/paranoid-eyes-insomnia.html' title='paranoid eyes-insomnia'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-116206608548708063</id><published>2006-10-28T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T13:08:05.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>butterfly effect</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/1600/IMG_2131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/320/IMG_2131.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd say, it's Ok,&lt;br /&gt;I got lost on the way&lt;br /&gt;but I'm a supergirl, and supergirls don't cry.&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd say, it's alright,&lt;br /&gt;I got home late tast night,&lt;br /&gt;but I'm a supergirl, and supergirls just fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asa am simtit zilele astea ca imi pieptan creierii, neuronii, imi fac gandurile suvite, suvite da' asa cum se intampla de obicei cand nu te piepteni prea des ti se innoada firele,ideile, parerile si ramane un smoc incert de lucruri bune si rele care de multe ori trebuie taiat, oricat de urat ar arata dupa. Sper doar sa n-ajung cheala intr-o zi. N-as suporta un implant de par.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd shout down the line&lt;br /&gt;tell me she's got no more time&lt;br /&gt;'cause she's a supergirl, and supergirls don't hide.&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd scream in my face,&lt;br /&gt;tell me that leave, leave this place&lt;br /&gt;'cause she's a supergirl, and supergirls just fly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-116206608548708063?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/116206608548708063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=116206608548708063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116206608548708063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/116206608548708063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/10/butterfly-effect.html' title='butterfly effect'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-115988831063365532</id><published>2006-10-03T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-07T05:57:05.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>wake up Susie it's time to go</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/1600/IMG_4566.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/320/IMG_4566.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stii ca sunt momente in care cred ca am dat in mintea copiilor sau poate asta e starea mea, Susie dar azi m-am trezit in timpul orei desenand casute cu copacei si cos dala prin care iese fumu, cum deseneaza copii de gradinita, cu usa si geam desupra si soare cu raze si dupa o printesa cu rochiee luunga si coif cu panglici care ies din el, ca la zane, i-am dat o bagheta magica si m-am simtit al dracului de bine Susie stii tu?cred ca as putea sa-mi petrec urmatoarele zile facand numai asta m-as simtit in siguranta mazgalind toate caietele cu prostiute de gradinita, cu zane, sailor moon si fete frumos aranjate cu pantof cu toc si intolite.aveam caiete pline cu d'astea, in timp ce inventam povesti, da rpreferam sa le desenez decat sa le scriu, mi le spuneam mie, si eu eram eroina. Poate ca incercam sa compensez toate lucrurile alea pe care visam ca le voi avea cand voi fii mare ca o sa ma dau cu ruj fara sa-mi stea aiurea si o sa pot sa port pantofi inalti si rochiile lu mami.ma gandesc eu acum ca viitor psiholog de care fuge lumea ca denota cine stie ce frustrare sau complex gen cenusareasa sau alba ca zapada dar zau ca nu astept pe nimeni sa ma incalte sau sa ma zgaltaie ca sa ma trezesc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tu crezi ca marea te viseaza pt tine?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acum da-mi verde sa-ti colorez ochii.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-115988831063365532?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/115988831063365532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=115988831063365532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115988831063365532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115988831063365532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/10/wake-up-susie-its-time-to-go.html' title='wake up Susie it&apos;s time to go'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-115815465131985394</id><published>2006-09-13T06:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T06:38:51.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ia textila romaneasca aproape dumnezeiasca</title><content type='html'>Desi n-ai putea zice ca bate vantu prin nenumaratele magazine, malluri, buticuri, SH-uri, tarabe ce impanzesc orasu' cand se da startul la targ jumate din constanta aterizeaza ca ulii in parteru' hotelurilor, in corturi sau unde mai simt miros de textila.Se inghesuie, se asfixiaza in numele hainei si al pantofului "la pret de producator"sau mai scapa la cate un stand cu super mega reduceri doar asa sa-si calmeze frustrarea pe care o aveau asta-vara cand portofelu era muult prea mic pt cate lucruri le furau ochii.Si cum toata lumea buna pe care am invitat-o la film astazi e la targ, de ma intreb nu or fi cumva sectanti sau o coalitie anti simtit-bine in dupa amiaza asta, incep sa ma intreb ce dumnezeu or gasi ei acolo, intr-un loc supraaglomerat, plin de praf, sufocant, unde mai tre sa dai si bani.Si daca tot pomenesc de Dumnezeu si de toale un singur lucru imi vine in minte :Diavolul se imbraca de la Prada si Dumnezeu de la targ.Si nu oricare.Ala de la Mamaia.E clar, Dumnezeu are eticheta made in Romania.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-115815465131985394?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/115815465131985394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=115815465131985394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115815465131985394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115815465131985394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/09/ia-textila-romaneasca-aproape.html' title='ia textila romaneasca aproape dumnezeiasca'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-115563949983182195</id><published>2006-08-15T03:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T03:58:19.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>jurnal de bagaje</title><content type='html'>dupa ce am reusit sa indes totu' in geamantane, rucsace si respir usurata apare ceva neprevazut, o haina lasata pe afara, din cauza careia trebuie sa desfac bagajele, sa scot hainele indesate bine, ma mir unde au incaput atatea, sau dimpotriva, atat de putin lucruri ocupa atat de mult.pe unele nici nu le mai recunosc, erau ale mele sau au ajuns aici din greseala, nu le-am mai vazut de mult si nu mai sut obisnuita cu ele desfacute, le stiam bine impachetate, intrau toate perfect, era multumirea aia dinainte de a pleca si acum un lucru  lasat pe dinafara si incepe iar inventaru, oare am luat tot, oare nu aveam nevoie si de aia sau poate una e in plus, nu mai stiu unde era locul lor si parc nu mai vreau sa plec dintr-un loc in care chiar si asa dezordonate pot sa le pastrez pe toate,&lt;br /&gt;langa mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt; It hurts when you're too blind to see&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Please don't read my mind I tell the truth to me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-115563949983182195?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/115563949983182195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=115563949983182195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115563949983182195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115563949983182195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/08/jurnal-de-bagaje.html' title='jurnal de bagaje'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-115520345279034134</id><published>2006-08-10T02:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T06:35:24.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>3 in 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/1600/IMG_3325.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/200/IMG_3325.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;din ciclul &lt;em&gt;intamplari din gradina mea&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de o ora ma chinui sa fierb o cana de apa si sa imi fac un 3 in 1 si ma iau de alte trebi si da in clocot o opresc, iar uit de ea, ma duc, dau drumu la aragaz din nou, iar uit de ea, iar da in clocot......si uite asa intre doua aduceri aminte si un dat in clocot o tin pana se evapora toata apa si nu mai vad nici un 3 in 1, nici macar 2, sau 1.m-am aburit cu atatia vapori de la toate ibricele cu apa uitate pe foc, bucataria mea e sauna, de fapt eu sunt turist in casa mea, in cearceafurile mele, pana si in toalele astea, mi-au dat si buletin acuma astept sa fac 18 ani si sa imi iau credit pe viata....sau viata pe credit &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/1600/IMG_3325.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"multumesc pentru cazare.scuzati deranjul.""&lt;br /&gt;"nu-i nimic.mai poftiti!"&lt;br /&gt;"nu, mersi.stau afara."&lt;br /&gt;"vin si eu."&lt;br /&gt;"nu, tu ramai acolo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I wished for things that I don’t need&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And what I chased won’t set me free&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I get scared but I’m not crawlin’ on my knees&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We’re taught to lead the life you choose&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You know your love’s run out on you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you can’t see when all your dreams aren’t coming true&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Goo Goo Dolls-Sympathy)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-115520345279034134?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/115520345279034134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=115520345279034134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115520345279034134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115520345279034134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/08/3-in-1.html' title='3 in 1'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-115515908493999821</id><published>2006-08-09T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T02:10:49.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>vara de contrabanda</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/1600/IMG_3395_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/320/IMG_3395_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pentru ca tot ce e bun ori e ilegal ori e imoral ori ingrasa mi-am vandut vara pe un ice-tea si doua frappe-uri."Reci si cu multa frisca te rog".vara infidela, i-am promis ca o iau de nevasta cu acte in regula daca triseaza de data asta si sta mai mult.mi-a zis "trombon" si mi-a tras clapa ca de obicei din fata altarului, zuza, si acum o caut prin vecini. mi-a lasat cateva bilete de tren da numa' pentru dus ce sa fac eu cu ele?ma tot duc, da nu mai apuc sa ma intorc, raman prin gari, astept trenuri si ajung unde nu ma asteptam.si cu intarziere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Io i-am zis rece asta mi-a adus ceai caldut, ce naiba nu mai intelege nimeni nimic?acuma ce sa fac nu il mai dau inapoi scrie clar"obiectele vandute nu se returneaza".mai asta nu imi aduce niciodata exact ceea ce cer si imi si spune ca in subconstient nu imi doream ce am cerut ci exact ceea ce mi-a dat, de fapt e mai mult un compromis, e bun pentru gat ceaiu' asta, daca era prea rece raguseam si dadeam vina pe el, si crede ca asa s-a spalat pe maini, eu i-am zis ca nu-mi pasa bai daca racesc, o fac pe barba mea, oricum umblu cu pastile in buzunar, sunt intodeauna asigurata, el s-a facut ca nu aude si asteapta sa vin din nou sa vand vara, si la anu', da eu m-am invatat, de acum incolo nu mai cer decat apa plata cu lamaie, sa vedem ce mai zice de data asta, nici nu ingrasa, nici nu raceste, da nici nu-i las bacsis, la cum m-a servit pana acum, si poate se invata minte, da s-ar putea sa schimb eu chelneru' si atunci sa nu vina la mine si sa-mi spuna ca a dat faliment ca asta' e deja a doua vara vanduta mai ieftin decat ar trebui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well I deserve nothing more than I get &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cos nothing I have is truly mine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Dido-Life for rent)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-115515908493999821?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/115515908493999821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=115515908493999821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115515908493999821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115515908493999821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/08/vara-de-contrabanda.html' title='vara de contrabanda'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-115515659133958171</id><published>2006-08-09T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T09:25:48.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>jurnal de calatorie (d)in mine prin imprejurimi si inapoi</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;.....sau cum a trecut o saptamana val-vartej&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mananc eugenii si citesc despre calatorii spirituale in afara trupului, lucru ciudat si totusi nu foarte, de fapt nu inteleg de ce se mira cand eu alerg prin min(t)e cu 300 (sau chiar mai mult) ganduri la ora.asa am depasit drumul cta-piatra neamt, manastirile, ceahlaul, bicazu', bucurestii, chiar si rapidu care face 5 ore pana aici si ia foc (de la prea multe opriri probabil).si altele mult mai apasatoare prin constanta cu miros de lumanari arse si flori.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-115515659133958171?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/115515659133958171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=115515659133958171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115515659133958171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115515659133958171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/08/jurnal-de-calatorie-din-mine-prin.html' title='jurnal de calatorie (d)in mine prin imprejurimi si inapoi'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-115178182241753779</id><published>2006-07-01T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T06:43:24.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce NU vreau de la Mos Craciun</title><content type='html'>Cum psihologii recomanda de obicei pusu' problemelor pe lista uite ca insir si eu lucruri care ma enerveaza poate devin mai caaaaaalma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-reclamele gen "barbatii beau bere si se uita la fotbal si femeile se joaca cu pisicile" care promoveaza sabloane d'astea... si eu ma uit la fotbal si beau bere...that makes me a man?&lt;br /&gt;-persoanele lipsite de orice spontaneitate cu planning saptamanal pe care tre sa le anunti cu nu stiu cat timp inainte ca vrei sa-te vezi cu ele&lt;br /&gt;- ai mei cand imi taie elanu' la vreo iesire care se anunta misto sau pur si simplu prezenta nevazuta care zice"stii ca oricum nu o sa te laseee"&lt;br /&gt;- tipele care se dau lesbiene sau bisexuale si spun ca nu accepta baietii gay(ipocrizie)&lt;br /&gt;-intoleranta in general, discriminarile&lt;br /&gt;-regulile stabilite de biserica(adica de o niste oameni acu 1500 de ani...cmon)&lt;br /&gt;-comediile romantice americane cu final fericit (bleaaaaks)&lt;br /&gt;-barurile in care nu-ti dau bauturi alcoolice ca mai ai un an pana faci 18....not fair&lt;br /&gt;-oamenii care se complac in chestii usoare si nu vor sa evolueze&lt;br /&gt;-machidonii de la mine din clasa care nu stiu cum sa se mai etaleze&lt;br /&gt;-iernile si vremea rece in general&lt;br /&gt;-incapacitatatea mea de a ramane constanta in ceea ce vreau&lt;br /&gt;-mandria /orgoliu meu nemasurat uneori&lt;br /&gt;-tipele care vin machiate rau la scoala si mai pun in strat si in ora de mate&lt;br /&gt;-tipele alea "perfecte" intodeauna dragute, silfide, imbracate asortat, pe care vai tuu n-ai cum sa nu le indragesti, cu care devii prietena doar daca au ce castiga de pe urma ta, si langa care s-ar putea sa il vezi pe fostu' tau prieten (unde-i fair playu?)&lt;br /&gt;-combinatia prostie-fudulie&lt;br /&gt;-barbatii misogini&lt;br /&gt;-si mai mult decat barbatii misogini, femeile misogine&lt;br /&gt;-tipele care se dau feministe doar pt ca au ditai garderoba, au o viata sexuale implinita si apar la de 3 ori femeie&lt;br /&gt;-oamenii carora le pasa prea mult de trenduri sau de parerea altora&lt;br /&gt;-copii razgaiati(doamne ce i-as bate:D)&lt;br /&gt;-vanzatoarele care stramba din nas si sunt ale dracului sau care ar spune de orice haina ca iti sta bine doar ca sa o cumperi&lt;br /&gt;-chestiile din reviste gen"cum iti dai seama ca te iubeste/ca il iubesti"&lt;br /&gt;-lucruile grave spuse prea usor de unii care devin cliseu din cauza asta&lt;br /&gt;-semnaturile de la commenturile de pe hi5 sau mesajele genu"cele mai tari fete...pooop"&lt;br /&gt;-efes pilsen...beaks&lt;br /&gt;-vinu combinat cu cola...cmon too good to be light:D&lt;br /&gt;-50 cent, snoop dog si altii de felu lor&lt;br /&gt;-tipele din videoclipurile lor&lt;br /&gt;-oamenii care te verifica cu buddy spyu&lt;br /&gt;-marcel proust pentru descrierile alea prea siropoase...dai cu lamaie mai&lt;br /&gt;-toti aia care il critica pe cartarescu pentru ca zic ei ca e comercial&lt;br /&gt;-vocile care se cearta in capu' meu&lt;br /&gt;-oamenii care sufera de mania persecutiei si cred k ceilalti comploteaza impotriva lor&lt;br /&gt;-Brazilia pentru ca toata lumea o vede castigatoare la CM&lt;br /&gt;-mosii din federatia de scrima&lt;br /&gt;-toti aia care nu te iau in serios pentru ca vai doamne esti prea mica si nu stii&lt;br /&gt;-eu cand stau prea mult in oglinda&lt;br /&gt;-etichetele puse raaapid si care raman acolo orice ai face&lt;br /&gt;-distantele&lt;br /&gt;-zidurile dintre oameni&lt;br /&gt;-regulile impuse de societatea care infraneaza libertatea&lt;br /&gt;-dorinta prea mare de libertate care te infraneaza oricum&lt;br /&gt;-profii care au uitat ca au fost elevi si directorii care una zic si alta fac&lt;br /&gt;-cei care cred k stiu ce e mai bine pentru tine si eu si pretentia sa ii asculti intocmai&lt;br /&gt;-discotecile cu manelee&lt;br /&gt;-eminescu si in general romantismele exagerate&lt;br /&gt;-pozele care-mi ies miscate&lt;br /&gt;-faptu ca n-am vazut pana acum un rasarit de soare pe plaja, ca n-am facut baie in mare cand ploua sau noaptea&lt;br /&gt;-toti oamenii care ii dau intr-una cu vama veche incat devine si asta un cliseu&lt;br /&gt;-fustele mini de blugi indoite&lt;br /&gt;-fustele alea purtate cu colanti&lt;br /&gt;-profii care nu's corecti&lt;br /&gt;-coruptia in general&lt;br /&gt;-canalizarile infundate&lt;br /&gt;-cand ai in cap 100o de lucruri si cineva te intr "la ce te gandesti"&lt;br /&gt;-cand intrebi oamenii pe care ii stii suparati ce faci..si ei iti raspund bine si baga un smiley fortat&lt;br /&gt;-smileyu asta :)&lt;br /&gt;-ojele sidefate pe care le ia maica-mea&lt;br /&gt;-babele care inchid geamu in autobuz pt ca e curent si te lasa fara aer in toataaa naduseala aia&lt;br /&gt;-barbie boys&lt;br /&gt;-zilele misto de plaja in care nu vrea sa mearga nimeni&lt;br /&gt;-mirosu din spitale, injectiile, analizele  *me faints*&lt;br /&gt;-hainele alea cat stramte si scurte, pe acre aventual srie d&amp;g, roberto cavalli sau mai stiu eu ce&lt;br /&gt;-faptu' ca nu m-am vindecat nici dupa toata lista asta&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-115178182241753779?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/115178182241753779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=115178182241753779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115178182241753779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115178182241753779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/07/ce-nu-vreau-de-la-mos-craciun.html' title='Ce NU vreau de la Mos Craciun'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30061313.post-115092675993383106</id><published>2006-06-21T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T05:34:37.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You follow me back with the sun in your eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/1600/IMG_1103.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/59/3217/320/IMG_1103.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Primesc eu acum cateva zile de la o prietena o melodie cu mentiune"bai ce misto e, mi-a trimis-o X-ulescu, bai nu-mi vine sa cred cand am ascultat-o mi s-a facut un gol in stomac".Chestie care devine mai interesata avand in vedere ca X-ulescu e fostu meu prieten, si melodia aia i-o trimisesem eu pe cand ne jucam de-a relatia serioasa.Nimic tragic totusi, nu m-au apucat atacurile de nostalgio-gelozie doar ca mi-am dat seama ca melodia o aveam de la un alt fost prieten de-al meu, care probabil nu-mi pastreaza o amintire prea frumoasa dupa ce am disparut ca magaru in ceata.Dar asta e alta poveste.&lt;br /&gt;De fapt prologu asta mi-a adus aminte de o faza din alea care nu inseamna mai nimic si totusi raman ca un fel de momorie semi-voluntara intr-un sertar la categoria discutii mama-fiica cu mentiunea"Eh...tinerete, tinerete".Stateam eu cu maica-mea intr-o seara si faceam slalom printre reclame la Tveu cand pe nu stiu ce post fac nenii aia publicitate la un film cu doi indragostiti foc care sfarsesc urat (varianta B la filme americane), ceva gen Romea si Julieta un pic mai fericiti ca totusi ajung sa se iubeasca. Si cum ei tot insistau acolo in reclama ca se iubesc de mama focului si la un moment dat se strambau prin ploaie pentru ca destinu asta mama lui sa-l bata cand esti mai fericit treosc pleosc ditai harababura, se trezeste maicamea intr-un acces de filozofie"copii astia se indragostesc si ei si cred ca sunt singurii care iubesc pe lumea asta" ca un fel de hybris al sfarsitului nefericit. Si asta ca tot vorbeam de melodia asta plimbata de la unu la altu ca o stafeta cu "je t'aime baah" care poata intr-o zi o sa se intoarca la persoana de la care a plecat inchizand cercu asta de indragostiti si atunci persoana aia o sa-si dea seama ca nu numai ea iubea baaa ci si altii si cum naiba chiar in acelasi fel. eu nu m-as consuma prea tare cand as afla ca nu-s prima, nici ultima, nici cea mai importanta din viata vreunui mascul de care m-au legat mai multe sau mai putine.de fapt ideea cu "la femme de ma vie" mi-ar pica destul de greu, ca doar n-o sa fiu eu mah responsabila cu fericire unui barbat toata viata, ce dracu abia ma descurc eu singura cu putinu asta de libertate pe care cred ca il am da care ma ingradeste fara sa-mi du seama.da asa am crescut eu cu ideea asta de femeie independenta, ca tot ma injura lumea ca am apucaturi de feminista, care fuge de casatorie ca dracu de tamaie, calare pe motocicleta in ziua nuntii, decat sa ma trezesc cu eticheta"asta e femeia mea" ceva de genu private property.ma si vad asa pe la vreu treizeci si ceva de ani cu tot felu de bazdaganii in cap, chestii incepute si neterminate, cariere peste cariere, fuga dupa libertate, fara barbat, fara copchii, maica-mea urlandu-mi in urehe"n-ai fost si tu in stare sa iti iei un barbat sa iti faci o casa umbli teleleu toata ziua crezi ca asta e marea fericire in viata, uita-te la sorata ca e mai mica decat tine si s-a descurcat mai repede", taicamiu nemultumit ca"bai nici-un nepot nimica, cine vrei sa populeze tara asta", unchimiu care acu ceva vreme, dupa ce se certase cu nevasta-sa si tot dadea vinu pe gat mi-a aruncat in fata.."ba psihologia e facultate de curve" mi-ar reprosa ca n-am fost si eu in stare sa fac o cariera sigura ca ce-o sa se aleaga d emine, astea-s meserii ma, ca el si-a indeplinit eroic slujba aia de la care primeea nu stiu cate mii de para pe luna si si-a facut nu stiu cate case si si-a schimbat masina de nu stiu cate ori si s-a despartit de neveste de nu stiu cate ....da el e multumit, el s-a daruit job-ului sau, si-a dedicat viata firmei de vopsit nave ce poate fi mai subliiiiim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Up we’ll go&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In white light&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don’t think so&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But what do I know?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What do I know?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Keane-Bedshaped)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30061313-115092675993383106?l=piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/feeds/115092675993383106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30061313&amp;postID=115092675993383106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115092675993383106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30061313/posts/default/115092675993383106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piece-of-puzzle.blogspot.com/2006/06/you-follow-me-back-with-sun-in-your.html' title='You follow me back with the sun in your eyes'/><author><name>Anca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05182604850715258507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wIH14LsKtm0/SRbaVPDpyWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/YTFcwW8c-dw/S220/chanel.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
