tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75876862601848340012024-02-07T05:34:55.396-08:00din plictiseala si nimic altcevaTheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-62810763599562202872009-10-25T10:17:00.000-07:002009-10-25T11:13:50.605-07:00franturi dintr-o conversatie anapoda<span style="font-size:85%;">profetul: asculta<br />Raluca: da, amice.<br />profetul: stii ce gand ma bantuie<br />Raluca: ?<br />profetul: stii...<br />profetul: oamenii pornesc cu anumite apetente<br />profetul: posibilitati<br />profetul: deschideri<br />profetul: imaginatie<br />profetul: p**a mea<br />profetul: si undeva pe parcurs se intampla ceva<br />profetul: si devin contabili<br />profetul: functionari<br />profetul: muncitori<br />profetul: se imbraca prost<br />profetul: pun burta<br />profetul: nu-i mai intereseaza<br />profetul: ceva din ei moare<br />profetul: stii ce zic?<br />profetul: simt ca ma aflu intr-un proces din asta de lobotomizare<br />profetul: din care daca o sa ies viu o sa ies mai sarac<br />profetul: iar lumea o sa isi piarda sclipirile astea frumoase<br />profetul: care fac viata sa merite traita<br />profetul: si o sa ramana numai cosmarul tern care este in majoritatea timpului<br />Raluca: c***t<br />Raluca: i have no optimistic view on this one<br />profetul : si chestia e ca deja simt ca am intrat in rasnita asta imputita<br />profetul : pentru ca un gand din asta ar trebui sa ma terifieze<br />profetul : si de fapt il contemplez cu indiferenta<br />profetul: exista mai multe feluri de prostie<br />profetul: si de incompetenta<br />profetul: cel mai rau tip de prostie / incompetenta e cand esti suficient de inteligent incat sa stii ce vrei<br />profetul: poate esti chiar inteligent<br />profetul: dar nu ai inteligenta de a face ce trebbuie ca sa ajungi acolo unde stii ca vrei sa ajungi<br />Raluca: oribil<br />Raluca: eu ma incadrez aici<br />Raluca: i'm stuck, most of the times.<br />profetul: esti ca un om mort, dar constient<br />profetul: book smart<br />profetul: life stupid<br />profetul: bai<br />profetul: iti mai dau un exemplu despre cosmarul meu social?<br />Raluca: da<br />profetul: n-o lua ca pe o plangere<br />profetul: ia-o ca pe un studiu de caz<br />profetul: nush...<br />profetul: let me have a little dignity<br />profetul: sunt suficient de inteligent si de sensibil incat sa observ cand o persoana este inteligenta<br />profetul: si prietenia cu ea merita cultivata<br />profetul: dar de obicei sunt deosebil de stangace, nesimtit, idiot incat sa nu pot sa ma comport adecvat<br />profetul: am jignit/deranjat/ sau pur si simplu tinut la distanta in mod gratuit o mie de oameni cu care as fi vrut s-o ard<br />Raluca: mai tii minte cand ne-am certat? ultima data cand ne-am vazut?<br />profetul: da<br />profetul: exact<br />Raluca: trebuie sa recunosc ca putini oameni au creat o asa furie in mine<br />profetul: pentru ca voiai sa te folosesti de trupul meu<br />profetul: dar asta e o exceptie<br />Raluca: crede-ma, mi-as fi bagat p**a in el de f***t fara nici o discutie<br /><br />profetul: atunci?<br /><br />Raluca: nu e era o cearta fundamentala<br />Raluca: ideologica<br />profetul: well god bless you<br />profetul: da<br />Raluca: era un c***t.<br />profetul: era doar un moment in care am fost super obtuz<br />profetul: si de cacat<br />Raluca: insa o chestie minunata a iesit din chestia aia<br />profetul: ce?<br />Raluca: contrar obiceiului meu, am avut c****le sa imi mu**sc un prieten atunci cand am simtit nevoia<br />Raluca: cantitaiv si calitativ corespunzator.</span>TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-37813387722286598432009-02-05T08:19:00.000-08:002009-02-05T08:20:58.291-08:00Into my arms - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I don't believe in an interventionist God<br />But I know, darling, that you do<br />But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him<br />Not to intervene when it came to you<br />Not to touch a hair on your head<br />To leave you as you are<br />And if He felt He had to direct you<br />Then direct you into my arms<br /><br />Into my arms, O Lord<br />Into my arms, O Lord<br />Into my arms, O Lord<br />Into my arms<br /><br />And I don't believe in the existence of angels<br />But looking at you I wonder if that's true<br />But if I did I would summon them together<br />And ask them to watch over you<br />To each burn a candle for you<br />To make bright and clear your path<br />And to walk, like Christ, in grace and love<br />And guide you into my arms<br /><br />Into my arms, O Lord<br />Into my arms, O Lord<br />Into my arms, O Lord<br />Into my arms<br /><br />And I believe in Love<br />And I know that you do too<br />And I believe in some kind of path<br />That we can walk down, me and you<br />So keep your candlew burning<br />And make her journey bright and pure<br />That she will keep returning<br />Always and evermore<br /><br />Into my arms, O Lord<br />Into my arms, O Lord<br />Into my arms, O Lord<br />Into my arms</span></span>TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-33412963407598308002009-02-02T05:35:00.000-08:002009-02-02T05:42:15.429-08:00Things that motivate you<ul><li>his/her look</li><li>his/her tastes that are so different from yours, but what the hell?!, he/she deserves for you to change yourself and ignore all you once liked</li><li>his/her jokes</li><li>the fact that he/she is involved with someone else and you make all the efforts for him/her to notice you</li><li>his/her stories about "her"/"him" that gets you a mutilated ego</li><li>the way he/she seems to care</li><li>all the small things</li></ul>TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-9356762829943387672009-01-28T23:11:00.000-08:002009-01-29T02:01:04.230-08:00Suprarealism tanar<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdvnWatp3jyeipiz1JF-oxQo4nvSXX_kmFeMgzWXQg90iwXg7rOooHlAcl132B7GuBHABO2qY3Rj-l9bZa52NojjJQ4d_luz0uS4X3disQm_a8ktYbjxing7RhnHpOlyCt1GT3hmPR_c/s1600-h/strannye-raboty-ot-michael-cheval_8723_s__1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdvnWatp3jyeipiz1JF-oxQo4nvSXX_kmFeMgzWXQg90iwXg7rOooHlAcl132B7GuBHABO2qY3Rj-l9bZa52NojjJQ4d_luz0uS4X3disQm_a8ktYbjxing7RhnHpOlyCt1GT3hmPR_c/s320/strannye-raboty-ot-michael-cheval_8723_s__1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296652926714846578" border="0" /></a><br /> http://chevalfineart.com/TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-5526138778938082582009-01-27T11:37:00.000-08:002009-01-27T11:40:03.227-08:00sunt evreu si ma simt binehai in Gaza cu grabire s-o detonam dintr-o ochire.TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-31076394843251929142009-01-27T11:22:00.000-08:002009-01-27T11:31:00.421-08:00innocenceI cannot myself be innocent as long as i don't belive in the innocence of others.TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-37349189069458143672008-12-17T13:30:00.000-08:002008-12-17T13:50:37.637-08:00things that really matterce conteaza cu adevarat pentru tine?<br /><br />1. sa ai la cine sa te intorci seara acasa?<br />2. sa ai cu cine sa iti bei cafeau dimineata inainte sa pleci?<br />3. sa ai cui sa spui atunci cand trebuie sa pleci de urgenta la londra si nu ai bani ?<br />4. sa ai cu cine sa iti petreci Revelionul?<br />5. sa ai cui sa i-o tragi?<br />6. sa ai cu cine sa fumezi iarba?<br />7. sa ai de la cine sa imprumuti bani?<br />8. sa ai cui sa spui ca ti-e teama de singuratate?<br /><br /><br />astept raspunsurile voastre, sa unim angoasa mea cu angoasa ta, intr-o angoasa mare....TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-35411985396995367802008-04-14T08:43:00.000-07:002008-04-14T08:46:19.570-07:00Duamne, aj vrea.....unu. sa imi iau pastilele pentru anxietate pe stomacu' gol<br />doi. sa beau ceai de menta fara sa ma constip<br />trei. sa pot sa cant "l'appartement" fara sa ma poticnesc la cuvintele in franceza<br />patru. sa nu mi se lase tzatzele niciodata<br /><br />Amin.TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-57348744666307006372008-02-18T10:49:00.000-08:002008-02-18T11:10:09.676-08:00Gone With the Wind and Coming Back to ... the Origins of DisasterI see myself in the same position I was a year ago: frightened, alone (or feeling alone), dependent, egocentric and (?!) with a pathetically low level of self-esteem. Too scared of being lonely, all at the price of not being free. Free from my own old self, of course.... Isn't that brutally ironic?<br /><br />And what have I learned? Virtually nothing.<br /><br />I can only rely on my ego who seldom sparkles and gives me a glimpse from time to time of what I really want to be.<br /><br />Too bad....TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-66877279963347568882008-01-27T14:29:00.000-08:002008-01-28T00:22:01.577-08:00Love conquers allLove is like a night's sky covered with stars - so many of them and so bright, and yet so many spaces between them that have no light<br />Love is great<br />Love is full<br />Love is true<br />Love is a beautiful view<br /><br /><br />Love is scarce.TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-4088858226432896582008-01-20T06:25:00.000-08:002008-01-20T06:30:03.749-08:00About me and you<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Q7WKVRVWFfseNQRCgpjrfveAKRr44hR3KVwAbl67Cl7uTPg0_zsNitjpNqZiAl8Q_GM_9BaV6pKyxDwM44kSAZOZnjpvbNwQMdTwc-qZYGMUgZrHCnRdT-VaAvIshUwct864iP3pkRs/s1600-h/not-talking.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Q7WKVRVWFfseNQRCgpjrfveAKRr44hR3KVwAbl67Cl7uTPg0_zsNitjpNqZiAl8Q_GM_9BaV6pKyxDwM44kSAZOZnjpvbNwQMdTwc-qZYGMUgZrHCnRdT-VaAvIshUwct864iP3pkRs/s320/not-talking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157565462957482610" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We are so busy fucking that we forget that the mouth has other purposes as well....TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-47255744121307846862008-01-20T06:15:00.001-08:002008-01-25T05:58:08.154-08:00In both tunnels...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWdfSQ_BQcaXhIqLwJaX5cbnPwv__TTCXodcvP9ktvC6I_pPx2UkYy74L1aCNGl0sOqyJeOXNc_qb4EIWaj9MmE4w9SgEzdZpKiRts8Yj7vhrUExPdy_KVbZyNSTbXdtcMijJe1tc1_Xs/s1600-h/subway.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWdfSQ_BQcaXhIqLwJaX5cbnPwv__TTCXodcvP9ktvC6I_pPx2UkYy74L1aCNGl0sOqyJeOXNc_qb4EIWaj9MmE4w9SgEzdZpKiRts8Yj7vhrUExPdy_KVbZyNSTbXdtcMijJe1tc1_Xs/s320/subway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157562933221745250" border="0" /></a><br />... I'd rather stay between a person and a wall rather than between a person and another person.TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-41292203029765548092008-01-20T06:12:00.000-08:002008-01-20T06:14:03.972-08:00Was it as good for you as it was for me?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhySNfq-BthOZxnBPq-k68tJLZF-vW-6Ur5z_fusB2ILwG1Rp4Ap8vLs3LwcZ047V1OhDKy0Z3siI0Ik3_PfPMvfOOu5ttEEH3yn4RvfNUSNiuh5BMVCpCMmD1TdMQwRqDMYPpNUrBlxs/s1600-h/Ice_cream_cone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhySNfq-BthOZxnBPq-k68tJLZF-vW-6Ur5z_fusB2ILwG1Rp4Ap8vLs3LwcZ047V1OhDKy0Z3siI0Ik3_PfPMvfOOu5ttEEH3yn4RvfNUSNiuh5BMVCpCMmD1TdMQwRqDMYPpNUrBlxs/s320/Ice_cream_cone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157561795055411794" border="0" /></a>TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-33832222044135152312008-01-16T13:33:00.000-08:002008-01-16T13:38:51.245-08:00In stand-by de simtire pe perioada nedeterminata<span style="font-weight: bold;">Ne vedem - te anunt eu, cand se numara tzandarile....</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">PS Nu uita sa aduci niste superglue.</span>TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-45744631087507553402008-01-16T13:19:00.000-08:002008-01-16T13:20:48.402-08:00Pula esti tu„Dragostea indelung rabda, dragostea este binevoitoare, dragostea nu pizmuieste, nu se lauda, nu se trufeste, dragostea nu se poarta cu necuviinta, nu cauta ale sale, nu se aprinde de minie, nu gindeste raul, nu se bucura de nedreptate, ci se bucura de adevar. Toate le sufera, toate le crede, toate le nadajduieste, toate le rabda. Dragostea nu cade niciodata“.TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-5035446347646874362008-01-05T08:47:00.000-08:002008-01-08T15:33:13.554-08:00Revelatia rautatii sau Ce am invatat din batranetea altora<div></div>Profiti de faptul ca nu poate sa te ironizeze sau sa te priveasca cu indulgenta atunci cand ca un imbecil faci o gluma idioata, "ca sa mai destinzi atmosfera". Nimeni nu te iarta pentru ca nimeni nu pricepe subtilitatea gafei si oricum sunt toti la fel. Numai ea pricepe dureros ca e o penibila gluma de incurajare si ca daca s-a ajuns aici, e cu adevarat aproape de marea trecere.<br />Formele ei odata feminine se etaleaza lenes pe pat, iar parul alb-murdar ii acopera fata. Ii simti omoplatul iesind prin bumbacul camasii de noapte si te intrebi, din pura curiozitate numai, cum de mai respira. E atemporala, fara varsta, fara chip, fara glas. Si-a pierdut si sexul intre timp, totul pare ca un pliu intamplator al pielii, ar fi putut foarte bine sa nu fie acolo si probabil ca nici nu mai e demult. Te priveste viu, muta, curioasa parca, dar rar, numai atunci cand nu priveste in gol, absenta, sau atunci cand nu te onoreaza deloc cu o privire si ii este prea greu sa deschida ochii. In somn si nu numai, deseneaza cu mana forme nedefinite in aer, ca un delir al gesturilor, un delir in toata regula, sa ne tinem cu firea, femeia asta pare ca nu mai are mult...<br /><br />Nimeni nu mosteneste pamantul.TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-10400430396765851602007-12-31T09:31:00.000-08:002007-12-31T09:50:35.675-08:00One Flew Over the Cuckoo's NestDaca:<br /><ol><li>va plictisiti FOARTE tare, </li><li>aveti timp de pierdut si nu va puteti gandi la o metoda mai jalnica de a-l pierde, </li><li>va intereseaza psihiatria si va fascineaza nebunii, </li><li>nu ati mai izbit de mult tastatura de birou intr-un acces de manie</li><li>vreti sa va puneti la punct cu cele mai noi conspiratii iudeo-masonice</li><li>vreti sa va radeti</li><li>nu ati mai facut de mult misto de cineva</li><li>vreti sa petreceti o noapte deloc romantica cu <em>partenerul</em> si intr-un mod cu totul inedit</li><li>aveti o conceptie mai... exotica asupra preludiului</li></ol><p>... va recomand <a href="http://saccsiv.weblog.ro/2007-11-11/210736/Homosexualitatea-,-avorturile-,-ateismul.html">http://saccsiv.weblog.ro/2007-11-11/210736/Homosexualitatea-,-avorturile-,-ateismul.html</a></p><p>Enjoy, people !</p><p>PS Nu uitati sa cititi commenturile, mai ales ultimul. ;)</p>TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-32111309899898915192007-12-28T09:18:00.000-08:002007-12-28T12:25:59.656-08:00Casnicia mea cu Domnul BL-am cunoscut pe Domnul B in anul doi de facultate. Imprejurarile ne-au adus impreuna in pragul sesiunii de examene in batrana biblioteca universitara cand invatam pentru examenul de istorie a artei. Il mai vazusem pe Dl B si cu alte ocazii in impunatorul amfiteatru unde se tineau de obicei cursurile, insa la vremea respectiva nu putusem sa remarc decat privirea sa albastra care m-a tintuit in loc cateva secunde si o cicatrice vaga in lobul urechii stangi, de la o fosta "ratacire" adolescentina, probabil.... N-am schimbat nici un cuvant.<br /><br />Cand l-am vazut in ziua respectiva impunator, intrand pe usa bibliotecii, singurul lucru pe care mi l-am adus aminte in legatura cu el a fost o remarca neinsemnata despre examenul de latina din ajun. Si adevarul este ca atunci asta era tot ce stiam despre el: ochii albastri si faptul ca nu se dadea in vant dupa latina.<br /><br />Am sesizat o umbra de timiditate in vocea si gesturile lui in momentul cand m-a intrebat daca locul de langa mine era liber. Am incercat sa imi ascund entuziasmul cat de mult am putut si am scos un "Da" suspect de nepasator.<br /><br />Evident ca pseudo-relatia noastra amoroasa ce urma sa parcurga aproape 50 ani de zile era ultimul lucru la care m-as fi putut gandi in momentul acela. Cu toate astea, am trecut firesc etapele unei casnicii in toata regula, cum bine am spus, de la timiditate, la indrazneala precauta, indiscretie, entuziasm, enervare, exasperare si in final sfanta plictiseala. Si toate astea presarate din belsug cu o cronica lipsa de relatii intime, cum sade bine oricarui cuplu venerabil: la inceput incitant datorita dorintei, apoi si fara ea... Nu ne-au impiedicat nici iubirea lui aparent neclintita pentru printesuca aceea bine ascunsa, dar reala, fara doar si poate, nici scurtele dar intensele mele evadari, fara de care casnicia nu ar fi durat, neindoielnic...<br /><br />Singurele remarci despre iubire pe care le-am putut obtine vreodata de la Dl B erau cel mult mici barfe despre relatiile altora, evident initiate tot de mine. Initiativa Dlui B in a vorbi despre el insusi era deseori inexistenta. Iar indiscretia de care am dat dovada in nenumarate randuri nu ii era pe plac; ma respingea cateodata cu o lipsa crunta de diplomatie, chiar cu o violenta verbala greu de stapanit, dar ii treceam cu vederea cu multa intelegere micile scapari , ca intr-o casnicie reusita...<br /><br />Dl B era un tip deseori lipsit de umor. Nu imi vine in minte nici o scena in care sa fi ras cu pofta in prezenta lui, cu toate astea sunt convinsa ca au existat. Lucrurile erau in mod firesc echitabile... nici umorul meu nu a dat dovada de prea mult credit in ochii lui.<br /><br />Nu stiu ce ne-a tinut unul langa altul in tot acest timp, pe mine si pe dl B. Cu toate astea a fost o partida buna.<br /><br />In final nu a murit nici unul dintre noi, desi am fi putut foarte bine sa o facem dupa o casnicie atat de lunga. Dar exista un sfarsit, deloc tragic, chiar previzibil as spune, ca al unei casnicii moderne. Ne-am racit impreuna, mon cher.TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-91780896739070646312007-12-24T09:47:00.000-08:002007-12-24T12:09:06.194-08:00That's why it's called a dream, you have to be asleep to believe it<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj9jCN-hLeusYcrUGd-oF5U4uKc2QGtBAvi5wwaYPeq56sjVlmIV1Vp6FikuPnafsfNhXSKBns__vtbCD1aiaGNyG4GS58Pq5ftGBflbwR3VL_eHauGV9_ttryM9PXBL2AD79HjVWePZU/s1600-h/campus_winter_nature.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147628046800872002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" height="213" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj9jCN-hLeusYcrUGd-oF5U4uKc2QGtBAvi5wwaYPeq56sjVlmIV1Vp6FikuPnafsfNhXSKBns__vtbCD1aiaGNyG4GS58Pq5ftGBflbwR3VL_eHauGV9_ttryM9PXBL2AD79HjVWePZU/s320/campus_winter_nature.jpg" width="281" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Wake up at 7:00 am. Easily open his arms surrounding my body and try to leave the bed without disturbing him. Sit on the edge of the bed, take a good look at the morning coming through the window and then look at him, gently bend over the bed and kiss his sleepy eyes: "Good morning".</div><br /><div>Put the milk over the hot coffee, as usual, take the mug in my right hand and the newspaper in my left and while reading the headlines, I make my way to the livingroom, on the couch. </div><br /><div>The freezing air invades my nostrils while I walk through the park of the hospital, I hear the snow screaking under my footsteps. The branches of the old trees bend over my head and define the path i have to walk to the entrance of the ward. </div><br /><div>As I reach to grab the door handle, I stop for a moment, turn my head around and take one more look at the still, white park. </div><br /><div>Enter the room and shake the snow off my shoulders, raise my head and see the girl with the amazingly big eyes. "Good morning, dr M", she says with a peaceful smile upon her angelic face. "Jesus told me today I am six years younger than yesterday"...</div><br /><div></div>TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-41627656675545391482007-12-24T07:01:00.001-08:002007-12-24T07:31:04.976-08:00Shhhh....Stau la adapostul intunericului din camera. Tastatura e luminata numai de ecranul calculatorului. Si bine e. Enhances the struggle. Shhhhh! Nu deranjati linistea din jurul oamenilor singuri.<br />E frumos, e brad, e familie pe jumatate, no love, no money, no problems....<br />No friends, no party, no coffee, no tea, no beer, no him, no her, no glamour<br />No sex, no booze, no major crisis, just many and minor...<br />Fara stres in noaptea de revelion, fara butterflies in stomac<br />Doar boala cu miros de moarte, plictiseala, dor, emptyness, emptyness, emptyness<br />Da, un mare gol.TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-31067275153562820472007-12-23T12:05:00.000-08:002007-12-23T12:13:57.936-08:00We shall overcome !!!eu: il iubesc pe george<br />ea: si eu<br />eu: pe acelasi george?<br />ea: normal<br />eu: pe acelasi george pe care il iubesc eu?<br />ea: da, bre<br />eu: si asta e bine?<br />ea: rau nu e<br />eu: mda....<br />eu: mai am si eu o sclipire de umanitate<br />eu: ar trebui sa imi iau un caine<br />eu: sa exersez<br />eu: si dupaia sa pun pe cineva sa il omoare, sa vad daca sufar<br />ea: =))<br />ea: si sa il bati cu ziaru knd nu e empaticTheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-8212207303613627132007-12-23T05:47:00.000-08:002007-12-23T05:55:49.104-08:00Clueless...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrNSOsWPzuIZRk-lSHP1mY1_u4sRwepRzRPW_pvzjLbgBa_fzPhJY_bsinMwJAx25HFQrj6QM8UxOJUFQm8VPt5KSLNWwjEuX-i-C-RjJSgjQPGwoHW6hhmv-6DBHB4wAJjdj3BgDDEa0/s1600-h/george-w-bush-picture.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147166196082631170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrNSOsWPzuIZRk-lSHP1mY1_u4sRwepRzRPW_pvzjLbgBa_fzPhJY_bsinMwJAx25HFQrj6QM8UxOJUFQm8VPt5KSLNWwjEuX-i-C-RjJSgjQPGwoHW6hhmv-6DBHB4wAJjdj3BgDDEa0/s320/george-w-bush-picture.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div> "Pai Nicusor e de aici din Bacau, mai..." spuse, ca si cand de aici decurgea in mod firesc faptul ca fusese botezat de Antonescu...</div>TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-29935842547607929642007-12-22T10:26:00.000-08:002007-12-22T10:44:16.852-08:00Love is not a victory march<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3e9IA5GNQlb3md7ElM2FPJAEJKF_OdZo0hOu6AabLxmUoh7cb3BeejvD_cZvrsEWtpgZ6W4aniAkgLY7vyp5W7DCUFedDQl0_xVp8c-rIDTR9dT_79PYFVS8c4UJrgN4yjucfi0svZhc/s1600-h/hold.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146869710195220978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3e9IA5GNQlb3md7ElM2FPJAEJKF_OdZo0hOu6AabLxmUoh7cb3BeejvD_cZvrsEWtpgZ6W4aniAkgLY7vyp5W7DCUFedDQl0_xVp8c-rIDTR9dT_79PYFVS8c4UJrgN4yjucfi0svZhc/s320/hold.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div> </div><div>baby i've been here before </div><div>i've seen this room and i've walked this floor</div><div>i used to live alone before i knew you </div><div>i've seen your flag on the marble arch </div><div>but love is not a victory march </div><div>it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah</div>TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7587686260184834001.post-22766506975563287352007-12-12T09:52:00.000-08:002007-12-12T10:02:00.466-08:00Uest & Uilaxeishan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfEyYAjMooJetqKOFyP6UV9NjXsuxYklDY-mPpwVAaE8gPRNqc8zBLNF4WUh1SgKWXzD2EBCEdQT9brxmyhwiekwL_FHrmxbgBMGL0U_45dyLhHLp9W4ptrpToluWAluGZNCoGoRQXRM/s1600-h/P6080183.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143148161725698306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfEyYAjMooJetqKOFyP6UV9NjXsuxYklDY-mPpwVAaE8gPRNqc8zBLNF4WUh1SgKWXzD2EBCEdQT9brxmyhwiekwL_FHrmxbgBMGL0U_45dyLhHLp9W4ptrpToluWAluGZNCoGoRQXRM/s320/P6080183.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>TheFinalCuthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893435680815172600noreply@blogger.com0