<?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-36707873</id><updated>2012-02-06T16:10:33.018+02:00</updated><category term='..'/><title type='text'>A story with some smiles....</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>196</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6280963470445152867</id><published>2011-04-09T00:42:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T01:04:21.858+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Dupa un an...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0yhHJt6Tg8s/TZ-GQRytsZI/AAAAAAAAAgk/1veCeEfH9Zg/s1600/do-it-again.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0yhHJt6Tg8s/TZ-GQRytsZI/AAAAAAAAAgk/1veCeEfH9Zg/s320/do-it-again.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593336876429586834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;A trecut un an si ceva de cand nu am mai publicat nimic aici.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;Ce lasitate din partea mea. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;S-au intamplat atat de multe in anul asta, s-au schimbat atat de multe in anul asta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;Oameni noi, orase noi, senzatii noi, placeri noi, iubiri noi, gusturi noi, mirosuri noi, vise noi, dureri noi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;Atat de multe noutati si tot eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;Nu o sa povestesc nimic din ce am simtit, ce am iubit, ce am pierdut si ce am castigat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;Probabil nu s-a schimbat mai nimic in anul asta, dar si mai probabil s-a schimbat totul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;Inca mai cred in ingheri, inca mai cred ca daca mananc morcovi tot anul la vara nu o sa ma mai ard cand stau la soare (cred asta, dar nu imi mananc portia de morcovi zi de zi), inca mai cred ca o prietenie poate sa fie tinuta in viata si la sute de kilometrii distanta, inca mai cred ca nu e o greseala sa  iubesti cu toata forta chiar si atunci cand esti alungat, inca mai cred ca la un moment dat cineva o sa creada in ceea ce poti face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;Nu mai cred in oamenii perfecti - asa ceva nu exista, nu cred in oamenii buni - nici astia nu exista, nu cred ca  avem doar o sansa - avem cate sanse ne dam, nu cred ca exista ispite - suntem prea liberi sa alegem!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;In ultimul an am avut tot atat de multe ganduri ca in anii trecuti cand le tastam pe aici, dar mai putin timp sa le impartasesc. Mi-am pierdut obiceiurile bune in detrimentul placerilor trecatoare - iar daca asta nu va suna cunoscut, eu zic sa va mai ganditi putin la viata pe care o aveti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;Am pierdut multe zile - dar am castigat multa experienta, am pierdut multe lupte cu mine - dar i-am facut pe altii fericiti, am uitat multe - dar mi le reamintesc pe parcurs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;Incep sa ma reabilitez, dupa un an si ceva de uitare, regrete, iluzii, incertitudine si ceva placere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;Cred ca pana la urma e important sa-ti dai seama care e cea mai mare nenorocire din viata ta , cand ti-ai dat seama care e ... poti merge mai departe debarasandu-te de ea cu usurinta! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000066;"&gt;Ce te faci cand iti iubesti sincer nenorocirea ? Te debarasezi de tine si o iei de la zero!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6280963470445152867?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6280963470445152867/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6280963470445152867' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6280963470445152867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6280963470445152867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2011/04/dupa-un.html' title='Dupa un an...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0yhHJt6Tg8s/TZ-GQRytsZI/AAAAAAAAAgk/1veCeEfH9Zg/s72-c/do-it-again.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-5142509728305829118</id><published>2010-01-09T01:12:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T01:27:40.760+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Plictis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/S0e-MaCMsUI/AAAAAAAAAgA/xuaoEtJKHKc/s1600-h/de-pasquale-stan-laurel-ohardy-2103444.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/S0e-MaCMsUI/AAAAAAAAAgA/xuaoEtJKHKc/s320/de-pasquale-stan-laurel-ohardy-2103444.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424513396547301698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Trebuie sa recunosc ca sunt unul din oamenii aia care se plictisesc foarte repede.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Mai exact eu nici nu apuc sa ma plictisesc pentru ca ma plictisesc atat de repede incat schimb foaia extraordinar de rapid...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Ma rog, cine intelege cum e - inseamna ca trece prin aceleasi momente ca mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Dar, se-ntampla uneori ca cineva sau ceva sa ma faca sa ma opresc putin mai mult si sa raman atat de incremenita in proiect incat sa nu ma plitisesc, ei alea sunt exceptiile pentru care timpul merita sa se opreasca in loc, sau cel putin asa am senzatia atunci... nu dureaza mult si totul revine la normal, adica imi dau seama ca m-am plictisit si incepe nebunia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;E foarte funny sa nu te plitisesti niciodata pentru ca te plictisesti prea repede, cam la fel de funny ca atunci cand  incepi sa faci primii pasi in viata si te cam lovesti cu capul de toate pragurile posibile, dar iti place, iti place pentru ca numai asa poti sa ramai in viata si pentru ca lumea asta, din fericire, a mai pastrat cateva exemplare de oameni printre toti androizii care umbla ca niste bezmetici fara sa invete sa se mai opreasca din cand in cand si sa vada ca nu e nimic atat de lipsit de nunate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Cele mai frumoase zile sunt alea cand nu-ti iese nimic si cu toate astea la final zambesti ca un bou/vaca si nu-ti dai seama de ce.. cand desi totul iese fix pe dos - esti de un optimism ireal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-5142509728305829118?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/5142509728305829118/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=5142509728305829118' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5142509728305829118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5142509728305829118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2010/01/plictis.html' title='Plictis'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/S0e-MaCMsUI/AAAAAAAAAgA/xuaoEtJKHKc/s72-c/de-pasquale-stan-laurel-ohardy-2103444.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8212815998164478874</id><published>2010-01-05T19:22:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T19:34:43.844+02:00</updated><title type='text'>2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Nu avem voie sa cerem mai mult decat ni se ofera.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Nu avem voie sa stricam un pac tacit in care toata lumea tace si zambeste - pentru ca asa trebuie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Nu avem voie sa ne aruncam in cap, pentru ca nu e moral.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Nu avem voie sa incercam sa mergem mai departe, pentru ca inca nu s-a terminat ce a fost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Nu avem voie sa speram, pentru ca iluziile sunt hrana prostilor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Nu avem voie sa simtim - pentru ca celalalt poate nu simte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Dar avem voie sa ne prefacem sa suntem ok.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Avem voie sa ne spunem in fiecare dimineata ca viata noastra e exact asa cum ne dorim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Avem voie sa ii lasam pe cei din jur sa ne astepte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Avem voie sa ne facem rezerve umane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Avem voie sa ne urcam pe blocuri sa privim orasul, dar nu putem sa-i facem poze pentru ca se transforma instant in cenusa, cenusa unor stafii foarte simpatice, dar prea triste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Mi-ar placea sa pot sa tip cu toata forta cuvinte greu de rostit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Mi-ar placea sa fac gesturile alea care nu trebuie facute nicioadata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Mi-ar placea sa pot sa spun in fiecare zi ca sunt mai fericita decat ieri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Mi-ar placea sa am voie sa fac primul pas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;welcome 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-8212815998164478874?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8212815998164478874/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8212815998164478874' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8212815998164478874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8212815998164478874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2010/01/2010.html' title='2010'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-5116593925090846496</id><published>2009-08-04T17:13:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T17:32:02.176+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Atat de lucizi...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SnhC43Bji7I/AAAAAAAAAf0/wK9vjk-b42Y/s1600-h/pierna.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SnhC43Bji7I/AAAAAAAAAf0/wK9vjk-b42Y/s320/pierna.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366112500622527410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Sunt printesa si camerista in propriul meu palat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Imi place pendularea asta, astfel mi-e cel mai bine, nu mai am nevoie de nimeni si nici nu ma simt singura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Ma gandesc cu tristete la toate drogurile pe care le folositi zilnic ca sa va induceti stari in care unii dintre voi se viseaza artisti, altii spirite inalte cu planuri marete.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Eu prefer sa-mi gasesc drogurile in luciditatea benefica creierului uman, dar care nu duce lipsa de resurse multicele de venin si iubire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;O simpla doza din drogurile mele si ajung sa ma iubesc in palate, cu regi si printi cu fantome si bufoni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Si apoi dupa ce dragostea lor s-a terminat, nesatula, eu mai bag o doza si te duc pe marginea prapastiei, tu esti speriat si crezi ca o sa-ti dau un branci, dar adevarul e ca eu ma arunc in abis, inchid ochii si fac din aruncare un zbor ,pentru ca eu am curajul zborului, tu nu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt; Zborul, fatal - evident, dar poate cel mai frumos dintre toate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Auzi, cica: "sa nu te-ntorci niciodata acolo unde ai fost candva fericit".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Da ce, sunt proasta sa nu ma intorc acolo? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Cum, sa-mi protejez sufletul de suferinte atat de placute, de dureri atat de mari ? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Nu, mereu ne intoarcem acolo unde am fost candva fericiti, pentru ca fara locurile alea suntem doar niste iluzii pe doua picioare, intorcandu-ne acolo realizam purul adevar al luciditatii care ne arata ca nu exista povesti, ca nu exista bine sau rau, ca nu exista iubire, ca nu exista curaj, ca nu exista nenorociri. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Existam doar noi cu alegerile noastre, cu bucuriile noastre, cu trecutul nostru si cu fantomele noastre...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Asa ca printesa din mine o sa-si cheme camerista si impreuna o sa zambeasca in stanga si-n dreapta, o sa spuna ca duc o viata perfecta si ca inca asteapta acel print, pe acel cal alb, cu acele intentii nobile...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Pana atunci mai bag o doza din drogul corpului meu si ma las dusa de valul amintirilor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-5116593925090846496?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/5116593925090846496/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=5116593925090846496' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5116593925090846496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5116593925090846496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/08/atat-de-lucizi.html' title='Atat de lucizi...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SnhC43Bji7I/AAAAAAAAAf0/wK9vjk-b42Y/s72-c/pierna.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-2939491202466344240</id><published>2009-05-14T15:54:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T16:02:45.999+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Durerile din piept</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/maephisto/b1e0e8ab4f1915"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_b1e0e8ab4f1915(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Alexandru Andries - Cea mai frumoasa zi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Cand cuvintele nu-si mai au rostul ne zambim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Cand nu mai putem sa ne zambim ne luam "la revedere" cu lacrimi in ochi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Cand secam de lacrimi  si nu ne mai putem tine ochii deschisi.. incepe durerea cea mare..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Iar cand durerea se transforma in amintirea unei stari greu de suportat.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Atunci poti sa mergi mai departe... pana atunci trebuie doar sa speri ca totul a fost doar un vis urat.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Sa speri ca la trezire in dreapta ta o sa fie acelasi trup pe care-l cunosti prea bine, acelasi ritm al batailor inimii si aceiasi ochi care iti zambesc mereu cu caldura...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;In realitate nimic din toate astea nu mai e.. si uite asa incepe durerea!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-2939491202466344240?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/2939491202466344240/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=2939491202466344240' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2939491202466344240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2939491202466344240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/05/durerile-din-piept.html' title='Durerile din piept'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6353845264550581977</id><published>2009-05-13T14:08:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T14:27:12.598+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Blind world!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Sunt un orb&lt;br /&gt;                Marin Sorescu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Eu stiam ca sunt un chior,&lt;br /&gt;Chiar in roua dimineata&lt;br /&gt;Dar n-am spus-o tuturor&lt;br /&gt;Ca sa nu-mi amarasc viata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;font-family:Georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Ochii mari sa-i casc asa&lt;br /&gt;Si sa-i tin cu mana bine&lt;br /&gt;Sunt un orb in fata ta,&lt;br /&gt;Care uite vezi prin mine&lt;br /&gt;Ce e rau si ce e bine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;... invat din amintiri, cel mai bine din ele invat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Din stari prin care am trecut, din sentimente pe care le-am simtit prea puternic sau din sentimente pe care am incercat sa le reprim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Ma hranesc cu zambete si cu lacrimi fara sa inteleg ca nimic din toate astea nu conteaza. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Conteaza doar clipa ce merita oprita.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;"Micuta Faust".. nu.. o simpla concluzie la care Goethe a ajuns putin inaintea mea, poate si pentru ca s-a nascut cu putin inaintea mea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Vreau sa pot sa traiesc in mai multe locuri..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;As vrea sa pot sa traiesc o perioada intr-un oras de provincie din Romania, apoi mi-ar placea o perioada sa traiesc la tara, apoi as vrea sa fac, pentru un timp, parte din grupurile alea de stau toata ziua in Bamboo si Dorobanti, mi-ar placea sa locuiesc intr-o capitala mare din Europa, apoi intr-un oras de provincie de-al lor, mi-ar mai placea sa stau si "la tara" in America.. si mi-ar placea sa traiesc putin si-n Hollywood...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Vreau sa citesc tot ce s-a publicat vreodata, vreau sa vad toate filmele care s-au facut vreodata, vreau ascult toata muzica care s-a compus vreodata... vreau sa aflu despre toate minunile lumii, toate experimentele, toata istoria, toate secretele...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Vreau sa simt tot..sa aud tot, sa stiu tot, sa cred tot, sa iubesc tot, sa am tot, sa traiesc toate experientele posibile!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Dedic postul asta.. tuturor acelora care se trezesc la 7, la 9 sunt la munca, la 13 au pauza de masa, la 5 termina, la 7 sunt acasa, la 8 se uita la tv, la 10 se culca.... day by day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:Georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Sunt un orb in fata ta, /Care uite vezi prin mine / Ce e rau si ce e bine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6353845264550581977?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6353845264550581977/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6353845264550581977' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6353845264550581977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6353845264550581977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/05/blind-world.html' title='Blind world!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1278019932005009615</id><published>2009-05-06T22:02:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T22:14:22.522+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Know your enemy..</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/mihaistefan91/5083e54ea2f3e7"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_5083e54ea2f3e7(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Green Day-Know your enemy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;E hai.. a trecut si unu maiu'..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;A fost dragut..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Vama a fost plina, agitata si anul asta mi-a parut mult prea plina de extreme..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Poate am imbatranit eu.. poate ideea de buna dispozitie nu mai e ce era candva...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Dar am ajuns la umila concluzie ca oamenii duc o viata  mult prea trista- daca pentru a se distra au nevoie de atat de multe "ajutatoare"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;O lume trista.. plina de extremisti care se pierd in propria lor extrema..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Asadar... unu mai a trecut... primavara s-a cam dus si ea.. si deja am inceput sa simt caldura greu de indurat din masina mea neagra care are locul de parcare fix la soare... ironie?! nu ! ..vara!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Astept sa termin cu examenele de la scoala.. astept sa dorm.. astept sa pot sa  inteleg ceva si sa nu traiesc doar viteza de pe langa mine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Una peste alta.. va urez un inceput de vara usor... si .. brusc mi s-a facut dor de mirosul de mare.. pe care l-am simtit anul asta doar in 2mai.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Si imi tot zic:... mai ai putina rabdare.. o sa vina si zilele de mare... mai ai putina rabdare!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-1278019932005009615?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1278019932005009615/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1278019932005009615' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1278019932005009615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1278019932005009615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/05/know-your-enemy.html' title='Know your enemy..'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6859280230849196018</id><published>2009-04-27T12:23:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T12:32:45.528+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Concluziile unei primaveri trecute prea repede!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SfV6DNIRtlI/AAAAAAAAAfk/wrgptcHD8uc/s1600-h/SANY0170.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329299929545422418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SfV6DNIRtlI/AAAAAAAAAfk/wrgptcHD8uc/s320/SANY0170.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;E ca atunci cand stai in masina si auzi ploaia de afara...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;E ca atunci cand tragi de timp pentru inca cateva minute langa el..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;E ca atunci cand nu ai nici cea mai mica idee despre cum o sa fie maine, dar iubesti ziua de azi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;E ca atunci cand mori de dorul lui, dar nu vrei ca el sa stie asta..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;E ca atunci cand orice muzica ai asculta gandul iti fuge tot la el..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;E ca atunci cand nu ai nici cea mai mica idee despre ce face, despre unde e, sau daca se mai gandeste din cand in cand la tine.. si te chinuie toate intrebarile astea pe care nu i le vei pune niciodata!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Asa este.. asa a fost.. si asa o sa fie mereu..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Invatam mereu ceea ce cei dinaintea noastra au aprofundat din greu..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Si da, facem si noi greselile lor cu o placere inexplicabila...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Ne place rolul de lup moralizator.. dar uitam ca suntem.. lupi..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Pentru primavara din suflet, pentru durerile din suflet, pentru dorurile din suflet, pentru prieteniile destramate, pentru cipele uitate, pentru fiecare privire si pentru fiecare atingere... pentru fiecare moment de fericire si pentru toti oamenii pe care-i iubesc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Pentru toate astea si pentru o mie de puncte comune pe care le avem cu totii ,dar nu ne place sa credem asta..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Pentru tot.. va urez un sfarsit de primavara calduros.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6859280230849196018?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6859280230849196018/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6859280230849196018' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6859280230849196018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6859280230849196018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/04/concluziile-unei-primaveri-trecute-prea.html' title='Concluziile unei primaveri trecute prea repede!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SfV6DNIRtlI/AAAAAAAAAfk/wrgptcHD8uc/s72-c/SANY0170.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-5240536735530140979</id><published>2009-03-31T21:07:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T21:23:35.554+03:00</updated><title type='text'>...Ziua de azi..</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Nu stiu de ce, dar de dimineata de la prima ora am tot gasit in orice subiect de scris..&lt;br /&gt;Si am strans toata ziulica o mie de ganduri ca sa le tastez acum aici...&lt;br /&gt;Dar ca sa-mi demonstreze ca nu e cum vreau eu ci e cum vrea ea... intamplarea face ca pe (la propriu) ultima suta de metrii sa-mi schimb orice gandul - cu unul nou!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma uitam in jur.. ciudat nu?!&lt;br /&gt;Da, rar ma mai uit in jur, dar azi am coborat din masina si mi-am zis sa ma duc sa-mi iau niste mancare.. si mi-am luat curaj.. asa seara cum e afara, si am mers cica 50 de metri pana la magazinul de langa bloc..&lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu daca v-am mai spus asta, dar eu am o mare frica... frica de oameni.. da!!!&lt;br /&gt;Ma rog.. nu de oamenii din jurul meu, ci cu precadere de oamenii de pe strada.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt genul ala de om care iese din masina - cladire- masina!&lt;br /&gt;Asadar orice plimbare pentru mine, oricat de scurta e ... imi pare o aventura in jungla!&lt;br /&gt;Asa ca mi-am luat inima-n dinti si am plecat dupa dragutul pateu vegetal.&lt;br /&gt;L-am luat.. si pana la bloc.. mi-am mai dat seama pentru a 8a sau a9a oara pe ziua de azi ca au inflorit copacii..&lt;br /&gt;Mi-am bucurat inima cu asta si am dat sa intru-n scara.. unde un tanar cu o tanara.. mai bruneti.. stateau la conversatie..&lt;br /&gt;Ei Doamne.. intr-o asemenea circumstanta mai mult decat periculoasa pentru mine, cum sa merg cu liftul?&lt;br /&gt;Asa ca hai Ana pana la 3(deci nu prea mult, da si 15 sa fie ca tot pe scari urcam)... am luat scarile la picior..&lt;br /&gt;Si usor, usor.. urcand ..un miros nu foarte pregnant de pui prajit mi-a invadat instant corpul.. (am zis.. hai ca e de la post.. am simtit azi la socala si micii de vis-a-vis)... dar am mai urcat putin si am simtit mirosul de paine prajita... apoi de unt cu paine prajita.. si undeva in fundal era puiul...&lt;br /&gt;Era.. era mirosul ala de scara de bloc.. dar nu putzea..asa cum s-a-ntamplat acum 2 zile sa puta a peste prajit de sa zici ca-l gateam in pat...nu..&lt;br /&gt;Mirosea.. a casa de mama grabita.. pe final de zi.. de copil care isi face cuminte temele ca sa poata sa pape si sa se uite la desene cat mai are timp... mirosea a o lumina calda.. galbena..&lt;br /&gt;Si usor, usor.. mirosul s-a dus cu fiecare scara pe care paseam.. pana cand am ajuns in fata usii nostre.. unde mirosea vag a.. noi!&lt;br /&gt;Si am deschis usa.. si la noi in casa miroase inca a .. casa care nu stie ce i se-ntampla!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da.. am vrut sa va scriu multe azi .. dar uite ca am zis sa raman la gandul din urma..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AA...&lt;br /&gt;Cat despre vecinii care au provocat urcatul pe scari.. am auzit vag franturi de discutie.. el o inselase pe ea, lacrimi, suspine... nimeni nu-si dorea sa jefuiasca o firava studenta ce seamana cu o eleva..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-5240536735530140979?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/5240536735530140979/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=5240536735530140979' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5240536735530140979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5240536735530140979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/03/ziua-de-azi.html' title='...Ziua de azi..'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6480753616658526812</id><published>2009-03-30T00:14:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T00:47:59.092+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Sunt un gen de spectator aparte...&lt;br /&gt;Eu ma duc de mai multe ori la un spectacol, pentru ca prima data sunt flamanda dupa detalii, uneori uit sa ma mai uit la spectacol si urmaresc doar detaliile... o schimbare de decor, o actiune facuta de un interpret din spatele scenei in timp ce in fata mea isi da duhul altul... chestii d'astea!&lt;br /&gt;Nici nu va puteti imagina ce blestem e asta pentru mine.&lt;br /&gt;Sau.. sunt genul de spectator care atunci cand e miscat mai tare nu poate nici macar sa aplaude.. da.. uneori sunt atat de miscata de ce se intampla, incat cei din jurul meu aplauda si se uita urat la mine, in timp ce eu stau si ma uit ca vitelul la poarta noua, neputand sa fac absolut niciun gest...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dintre toate spectacolele din lume.. pentru unul singur as face orice ca sa pun pana pe un bilet...&lt;br /&gt;Un loc la CIRQUE DU SOLEIL...da..&lt;br /&gt;Iubesc de cand ma stiu circul.. imi pare un mister superb&lt;br /&gt;Adica cu totii vrem sa aflam cum se fac trucurile de magie.. si ne lasam fascinati de ele..&lt;br /&gt;Dar circul.. e altceva.&lt;br /&gt;E o lume, e un mod de a respira, e ceva mai presus de orice pe lumea asta!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu una raman proasta cand ma uit la circ.. sunt abslout proasta in fata oamenilor alora, pe care ii consider absolut perfecti..&lt;br /&gt;E o atractie incredibila..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uneori am curajul sa ma gandesc cum mi-ar sta intr-o trupa de circ.. probabil ca nu as putea decat ca duc apa interpretilor... la mai mult nu am cum sa visez...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una peste alta... circul o sa ramana pentru totdeauna una dintre cele mai mari pasiuni ale mele.. cat despre biletul ala la un spectacol Cirque du Soleil... poate o sa-l primesc candva.. un cadou de nunta.. sau de 30 de ani.. 40 de ani.. 50 de ani.. 60 de ani... 70 de ani.. nu stiu cand , cum sau de la cine.. dar cred ca e singurul lucru despre care pot sa spun ca mi-l doresc din tot sufletul!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pana una alta o mostra de placere:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Dt1Tta90tug&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Dt1Tta90tug&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6480753616658526812?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6480753616658526812/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6480753616658526812' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6480753616658526812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6480753616658526812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/03/sunt-un-gen-de-spectator-aparte.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-7898878706150173091</id><published>2009-03-17T22:12:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T22:25:31.942+02:00</updated><title type='text'>La 19</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Pana acum am publicat fix 212 posturi... ce dragut...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mai sunt cateva ore si schimb prefixul..&lt;br /&gt;De ce stau in fata computerului si scriu postul asta, cand as avea destule de facut. Pentru ca intr-un fel sau altul vreau sa marchez trecerea asta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/ScAE4b7RWqI/AAAAAAAAAfc/2NqbV-QKhw0/s1600-h/SANY0086.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314252927912729250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/ScAE4b7RWqI/AAAAAAAAAfc/2NqbV-QKhw0/s320/SANY0086.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aia de mai sus eram eu la majorat!&lt;br /&gt;Ce s-a schimbat de atunci pana acum??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Din punctul meu de vedere absolut nimic.. poate doar ca am mai acumulat ceva experiente, am trecut printr-o multime de intamplari care mi-au modificat modul de a face lucrurile...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Uneori sunt mai inteleapta, alteori mai zapacita, unerori mai impulsiva, alteori prea conservatoare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Dar nu foarte departe, in sufletelul meu sunt inca un copil de 18 ani...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Maine?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Maine fac 20 de ani.. o parte din voi o sa zambiti cu nostalgie, altii o sa zica ca nu e mare lucru, unii nu vor intelege nimic.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Ce se-ntampla in mine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;In mine arde mai mult ca niciodata un foc de nestins.. pe care-l iubesc,pe care-l hranesc zilnic cu mult mult gaz..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Intreaba-ma daca am regrete pana la varsta asta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Nu, nu am ... regret doar ceea ce nu am apucat sa fac si nimic din ceea ce am facut!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Intreaba-ma ce iubesc cel mai mult  pana la varsta asta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Familia mai mult ca orice .. si la capitolul familie intra si doi prieteni de suflet...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Intreaba-ma ce nu vreau sa pierd de langa mine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Nimeni din familie si niciun prieten, caci fara ei nu as avea niciun sens pe lume...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Intreaba-ma cate am reusit pana azi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Destule cat sa nu vreau sa le scriu aici!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Intreaba-ma daca mi-a mai ramas ceva de facut pana la varsta asta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Tot, absolut tot din ceea ce n-am facut niciodata in viata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Intreaba-ma daca mi-e dor de cineva vreodata?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;In fiecare seara, de altcineva... si zi de zi de aceasi persoana!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Pentru ultima oara la 19 ani... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Cu drag.. tot ANA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-7898878706150173091?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/7898878706150173091/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=7898878706150173091' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7898878706150173091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7898878706150173091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/03/la-19.html' title='La 19'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/ScAE4b7RWqI/AAAAAAAAAfc/2NqbV-QKhw0/s72-c/SANY0086.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-567781893413905621</id><published>2009-03-16T23:15:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T23:21:34.475+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Simplu.. despre Paler</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Zilele astea am primit unul dintre cele mai frumoase cadouri din viata mea.. mi-am facut, cu timpul, un top al celor mai frumose cadouri.. nu au fost neaparat cadouri materiale, ba chiar mai mult, pana la cadoul de anul asta.. celelalte cadouri din top nu au fost decat niste simple hartiute... dar care au insemnat enorm pentru mine..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Ei anul asta am primit un cadou in avans de la cineva drag mie.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Manata de acest eveniment.. de cadou.. de zilele ce trec pe langa mine.. manata de toate astea... o sa-mi las poetul preferat sa vorbeasca azi in locul meu,pentru ca tot ceea ce spune este exact ceea ce as vrea eu sa scriu, numai ca lipsa de talent literar, lipsa de multe altele.. ma face sa nu gasesc cuvintele potrivite pentru a exprima ceva ce el deja a exprimat...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Simplu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Octavian Paler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;"Singuratatea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Despre adevarata singuratate nu vorbim decat in soapta. Nu putem tine conferinte publice despre ea. Dealtfel, ce mai inseamna o singuratate trambitata? Nu voi recunoaste decat in fata mea ca sunt singur. Si uneori prefer sa mi-o ascund si mie.&lt;br /&gt;Singuratatea are la prima vedere o conotatie negativa, dar la fel ca majoritatea conceptiilor, si acesta dispune de o perceptie relativa. Ati observat ca de fiecare data cand sunteti suparati sau ganditori aveti tendinta sa va singularizati experienta si sa va retrageti in voi insiva?&lt;br /&gt;Singuratatea nu e chiar rea. Exista momente in care confruntarea cu propria constiinta duce la rezolvarea problemei initiale. Desigur, ajungem in final sa povestim prin ce am trecut celor apropiati noua… dar pana in punctul acela de destainuire trebuie sa trecem de scutul pe care singuri ni-l ridicam.&lt;br /&gt;Recunoasterea nevoii de singuratate, pe de alta parte, e o problema mai delicata. Socializarea si nevoia de colectiv stau in gena noastra umana si de aceea recunoasterea a ceva care paraseste tiparele prestabilite atrage dupa sine teama de ridicol. Ne e teama sa fim exclusi din randurile majoritatii, dar in acelasi timp ne dorim sa fim unici.&lt;br /&gt;Unicitatea vine din sinceritatea pe care o avem fata de ceilalti, dar in speta, fata de noi insine. Iar in sinceritate se afla si nevoie de singuratate"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;O noapte buna dragi mei!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-567781893413905621?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/567781893413905621/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=567781893413905621' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/567781893413905621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/567781893413905621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/03/simplu-despre-paler.html' title='Simplu.. despre Paler'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-7224820199383983872</id><published>2009-03-01T20:59:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T21:21:06.137+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Meeting Bono!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SarbZAzWWWI/AAAAAAAAAfU/AzOvbpI0ug4/s1600-h/40a_21_bono_243x187.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308296333568137570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SarbZAzWWWI/AAAAAAAAAfU/AzOvbpI0ug4/s320/40a_21_bono_243x187.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nu-mi place sa merg la concerte.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oricum in Romania nu se tin concerte adevarate.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ori ai parte de concert de club, cu fum de-l tai cu sabia, oameni care vor sa treaca fix prin fata ta.. si vreo 2-3 beti turta care se tin de tine ca de gard...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sau sunt concertele de la sala palatului, sala x sau sala salilor... cu scaune de pe vremea lu' Ceasca si marlani si ragaituri.&lt;br /&gt;Sau sa vorbim de spectacolele in aer liber unde sonorizarea lasa mult de dorit!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Una peste alta mie rar mi s-a intamplat sa ma prezint la vreun concert oricat de mult mi-ar placea o trupa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dar azi am fost la cel mai tare concert din viata mea...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Iubesc tehnologia, atata timp cat eu ma folosesc de ea.. si nu ea de mine.. atata timp cat nu ajung sclava ei si cat pot sa respir si fara telefonul mobil in pantaloni. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dar tocmai pentru ca iubesc tehnologia, imi place sa fiu in pas cu ea.. asadar.. de cand ma stiu trebuie sa am cel mai tare telefon de pe piata.. sau macar unul dintre ele.. trebuie sa incerc toate programele caldute.. etc.. etc..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cred ca ati prins unde vreau sa ajung.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Azi i-am luat de-o aripa pe Crina si pe Mihai.. si ne-am dus la U2-3D!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A fost o experienta superba.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;La inceput pe cat se apropia Bono de mine, ma duceam si eu spre el.. apoi ne-am obisnuit unul cu altul si mi-am asumat pur si simplu statutul de guest star in concertul lor... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ca ii vedeam ridurile si fiecare cuta de pe manuta nu e nimic.. dar am simtit ca intelgeam ce vroia nenea ala sa-mi zica la fiecare pas!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Filme 3D am mai vazut eu, am fost de vreo 3 ori si la Geoda din Paris unde m-am delectat cu niste filme vazute pe ecran sferic.. Una peste alta nu a fost o noutate acest 3D.. dar simplul fapt ca am vazut un concert 3D.. si nu orice concert.. ci un concert U2.. a fost extraordinar..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Btw.. in sala eram cam 10-15 oameni.. deci nu trebuie sa va rezervati loc pentru vizionare!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Acestea fiind spuse va urez o seara minunata, o saptamana usoara.. caci pentru mine seara de azi a fost o totala incarcare de acumulator!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qXf5qrxmzMM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qXf5qrxmzMM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-7224820199383983872?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/7224820199383983872/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=7224820199383983872' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7224820199383983872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7224820199383983872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/03/meeting-bono.html' title='Meeting Bono!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SarbZAzWWWI/AAAAAAAAAfU/AzOvbpI0ug4/s72-c/40a_21_bono_243x187.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-583954576783665251</id><published>2009-03-01T12:12:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T12:20:19.007+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Primavara mea!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Am cana de ceai in stanga si am oprit muzica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Mi-am dat seama ca niciodata nu pot sa scriu cu muzica deschisa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Probabil e nevoie de foarte multa liniste pentru a-mi asculta gandurile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Azi vine primavara, teoretic..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Nici nu stiu cum au zburat zilele anului pana azi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Imi place sa consider luna martie ca fiind "luna mea".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Mereu a fost o parte speciala din an..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Ghiocei, primele incercari de a scapa de geci, ziua mea, multe zambete... asa a fost mereu.. sau cel putin asa-mi place mie sa cred ca a fost..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Traiesc una din cele mai agitate perioade din cate am apucat sa traiesc pana azi, si cu toate astea am un sentiment ciudat de liniste. O liniste care imi da incredere, o liniste ce ma face mult mai stapana pe mine si pe actiunile mele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;O sa fie bine imi zic mereu, si uite ca a ajuns sa-mi fie bine.. cu doruri si cu sperante.. cu toate, astea mi-e bine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Pentru acest inceput de primavara, pentru cana de ceai din dreapta si pentru cantecul pasarelelor de la geamul din stanga.. pentru toate astea si pentru o mie alte nebunii din mine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;O primavara frumoasa va urez!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-583954576783665251?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/583954576783665251/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=583954576783665251' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/583954576783665251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/583954576783665251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/03/primavara-mea.html' title='Primavara mea!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8455913129155044214</id><published>2009-02-12T17:22:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T17:34:32.296+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pentru zilele cu ploaie...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LX7_7y7s6jc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LX7_7y7s6jc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Pentru zilele cu ploaie in care sunt sunata  la 8 dimineata sa mi se spuna ca pot sa dorm toata ziua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Pentru zilele cu ploaie in care dorm pana la 3 dupa-amiaza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Pentru zielle cu ploaie in care mi-e dor de prea multa lume si n-as vrea sa vad pe nimeni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Pentru zilele cu ploaie din care nu inteleg mare lucru dar pe care le petrec in liniste si cu zambete in suflet..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Pentru zilele cu ploaie in care ma gandesc unde esti..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Pentru zilele cu ploaie in care ma gandesc.. ce mai ramane de facut acum?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Pentru zilele cu ploaie in care fac bilanturi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Pentru zilele cu ploaie in care imi canta pasarele la geam si de afara vine un miros de carne prajita.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Pentru zile cu ploaie in care nu mai ploua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Pentru zilele cu ploaie in care nu ma vezi.. si pentru zilele cu ploaie in care-ti duc lipsa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Pentru ziua de azi... si pentru dorul din suflet.. pentru toate astea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt; "...don't make me stay , for I'm leaving you and I still love you !"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-8455913129155044214?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8455913129155044214/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8455913129155044214' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8455913129155044214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8455913129155044214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/02/pentru-zilele-cu-ploaie.html' title='Pentru zilele cu ploaie...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8040637076314531871</id><published>2009-02-09T19:11:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T19:38:49.851+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre unguri..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SZBkCKV9xzI/AAAAAAAAAe4/8Ew_2q7uhFo/s1600-h/cozma_mkb.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300846749714073394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 172px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SZBkCKV9xzI/AAAAAAAAAe4/8Ew_2q7uhFo/s320/cozma_mkb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Eu nu am avut nimic cu ungurii pana acum vreo 3 ani, cand am plecat impreuna cu Matei si cu cele doua mame din dotare,a mea si a lui, intr-un tur al Europei. Prima oprire a fost Ungaria, ca na , pe acolo trebuia sa iesm in lume. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Matei avea o pica pe ei, si mi-a zis ca nu-i suporta din cauza unor probleme din excursiile anterioare, eu nu aveam nimic cu ei, ii stiam de la istorie si imi erau destul de simpatici desi nu am avut niciodata o realtie buna cu ei.. noi romanii. Si mai era ceva, vroiam sa-i dovedesc lu' Matei ca nu e dracu' asa de negru.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Am ajuns la granita, i-am zambit functionarului roman, care ne-a pus stamplia si dusi am fost.. pana la ghiseul ungurilor, unde le-am zambit si lor, si ei ne-au zambit punandu-ne sa tragem pe dreapta si sa scoatem tot din masina.. si din bagaje..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ce a insemnat asta? A insemnat ca pentru ei un grup format din sofer de 20 si ceva de ani, cu mama lui, cu prietena lui minora si cu mama prietenei lui.. suna dubios...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Am scos tot, am injurat cat am putut - avand certitudinea ca ne inteleg perfect.. si am petrecut o zi in Ungaria fortati de imprejurari...nu pot spune ca singurul lor lac, Balaton, nu e un lac dragut, si ca nu am mancat un gulas bun.. dar nu cred ca era nevoie ca excursia nostra sa inceapa atat de agitat.. evident ca si la intoarcerea in Romania, trecand prin Ungaria am avut cea neplaceri legate de niste detalii pe care acum prefer sa nu mi le aduc aminte..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Una peste alta, timp de cateva luni am avut ceva cu natia lor.. dar.. trecand timpul.. am revenit la sentimente ceva mai neutre cand auzeam de unguri...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Pana azi.. cand nu stiu ce atitudine sa am..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Evident ca iar am nimerit la stiri..si am vazut ceva ce mi-a dat batai de inima accelerate pe langa un bocet sanatos.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Hanbalistul roman Marian Cozma a fost injunghiat sambata noapte in inima, intr-un club din Ungaria, in orasul Veszprem unde juca.. in urma incidentului si-a pierdut viata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ca era un handbalist foarte bun, asta stie toata lumea, dar imaginile pe mine m-au cutremurat, am vazut imaginile luate de camerele de supraveghere.. imagini care ni-l aratau pe Marian intrand in club cu prietena lui.. si imagini in care ii puteam vedea pe calai sai.. si imagini cu Marian alergand spre iesire, patat de sange...semn ca deja fusese injunghiat.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Motivul? Cica aia care l-au omorat se luasera ori de prietena lui, ori de o chelnerita..(nu exista inca o varianta clara)... si el s-a bagat sa aplaneze conflictul..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;In momentul doi, evident ca am inceput iar sa urasc ungurii, nu intelegeam cum poate sa fie posibil asa ceva, ma simteam ca intr-un film din vestul salbatic.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Dar dupa acea.. am vazut imagini cu oamenii care s-au adunt sa aprinda o lumanare pentru romanul nostru, unguri care plangeau dupa el... oamenii care il sustineau pe tatal lui Marian...multi,foarte multi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Da.. nenorociti sunt peste tot.. asta-i adevarul.. dar mai e ceva.. politistii din Ungaria i-au prins pe criminali, in mai putin de 24 de ore, undeva prin Austria si peste o saptamana ii baga in proces.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Si stau sa ma gandesc .. eu ce sa cred acum despre unguri.. cred.. ca ma voi intoarce la gandirea de acum 3 ani dinainte de evenimentul de la granita.. cand imi ziceam ca oameni rai sunt peste tot, si ca nu e nevoie de o tara anume sa gasesti nenorociti.. si ca pana la urma nu e vorba de zona geografica atunci cand vobim de OAMENI.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Si ii multumesc lui Dumnezeu ca am intrat in UE si numai depindem de ei cand iesim din tara...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Cat despre handbalistul nostru.. Dumnezeu sa-l odihneasca!! Si condolenate familiei sale....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-8040637076314531871?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8040637076314531871/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8040637076314531871' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8040637076314531871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8040637076314531871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/02/despre-unguri.html' title='Despre unguri..'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SZBkCKV9xzI/AAAAAAAAAe4/8Ew_2q7uhFo/s72-c/cozma_mkb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-266150281215686102</id><published>2009-02-08T00:35:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T01:16:05.966+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre lacrimi...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SY4SaXJOUfI/AAAAAAAAAew/XjFzYhFOPYc/s1600-h/SANY0088.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300194055560253938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SY4SaXJOUfI/AAAAAAAAAew/XjFzYhFOPYc/s320/SANY0088.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SY4NihhrFoI/AAAAAAAAAeo/yMU0pMRxFuY/s1600-h/SANY0024.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Plang.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Adica plang des.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Acum nu refulez pentru ca sunt intr-o pasa proasta, nu, sunt ok. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Sau ma rog, asa imi place sa cred..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Ma rog, trecand peste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Azi am ajuns mai devreme acasa, printr-o minune,- si cum Crina zilele astea nu a stat acasa.. azi am realizat ca am stat o saptamana singura, de ce am realizat tocmai azi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Probabil pentru ca in restul zilelor ajungand la 6 dimineata acasa, obosita si pe jumatatea adormita - nu prea observam ce se-ntampla.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;E hai,singura fiind nu am intrat intr-o depresie daca la asta v-ati gandit, nu, pur si simplu m-am uitat la tv.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Da, nu am mai facut asta de mult.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Si cum nimic nu mi-a atras atentia... dintre "By..Monica Columbeanu", "Cireasa de pe tort" si.. stirile de pe Realitatea, evident ultima optiune mi s-a parut cel mai ok.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Dar... aici incepe nebunia, am mai scris eu p'aici ca plang la stirile de la ora 7 ale Andreei Esca - nu la toate.. dar unele cazuri ma omoara... ei ascultati aici poveste.. azi am plans la stirea in care era relatat cazul cu cei 50 si ceva de copii blocati pe aeroportul din Londra. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;AM PLANS.. nu stiu cum naiba, nu-mi explic reactia absolut incontrolabila... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Mi-am zis ca tv-ul nu-i de mine.. asa ca mi-am adus aminte de seria din "One Tree Hill" pe care Crina a adu-o de "casa - noua", cand ne-am mutat...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Asa ca mi-am zis sa ma relaxez cu "prietenii nostri".. pana la ora asta am vazut 4 episoade.. si la toate am bocit de a sarit camasa de pe mine..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Plang la niste situatii poate chiar prea banale...adica.. na.. moare unu' in film.. dar eu stiu ca e film, e chiar un serial americanesc.. deci cu atat mai mult nu e nimic iesit din comun...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Si stau sa ma intreb...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Plang la stiri din primele secunde (asta daca-s stiri cu oameni, nu cu politicieni,preturi etc), plang la seriale, plang la filme de lung metraj, plang pe melodii, plang cand i se intampla ceva unui om apropiat mie, unui prieten, plang cand n-am sala de repetitie, plang cand am emotii, plang daca parasesc pe cineva, plang daca sunt parasita, plang cand ma gandesc la parintii mei, plang cand ma gandesc la cei care nu mai sunt, plang cand ma gandesc la copilaria mea, plang cand ma gandesc la viitorul meu, plang aproape intotdeauna cand nu trebuie sa plang, cand imi face cel mai mare deserviciu acest"plans"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Am la scoala un grup de tipe care comenteaza acest "plans"... dar e ciudat... ca nu sunt genul de om care sa planga in fiecare zi, saptamana.. poate sa treaca si o luna si eu sa nu plang.. ma intreb daca se-ntampla sa fie ele acolo tocmai cand dau eu apa la soricei.. sau pur si simplu e tot ce pot sa vada din mine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Na.. nu-s multe fetele astea care mi-au atras atentia.. dar de aici a pornit problema mea.. si azi ma gandeam sa incep s-o rezolv.. ca ma buseste plansul fix cand trebuie sa ma tin cel mai tare si cand trebuie sa tin capul sus... ca sunt puternica asta o stiu.. dar sa stiti ca plansul asta nu ma impiedica cu abolut nimic sa fiu la fel sau poate chiar mai puternica decat voi ceilalti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Si nu cred ca eu sunt defecta.. cred ca la voi e problema.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Cum sa nu plang cand vad la televizor oameni care mor de foame si cer ajutor, oameni care omoara alti oameni, animale batute, copii abandonati, locuinte in flacari... cum sa nu plang cand vad in filme povesti de dragoste cu final fericit.. sau cu final trist.. cum sa nu plang cand oamenii din jurul meu mor- uneori chiar oameni dragi mie, cum sa nu plang cand muncesc zile intregi pentru ceva si intampin greutati carora din mii de motive nu le mai pot face fata singura, cum sa nu plang cand imi doresc ca ceva sa fie superb si am emotii, cum sa nu plang cand scap de un stress care mi-a mancat noptile si mi-a ros ficatii... cum sa nu plang cand ii spun ca vreau sa plece din viata mea... sau cand nu imi raspunde la mesaje... cum sa nu plang cand in viata asta lucrurile bune si cele rele vin si pleaca..si noi nu avem decat cateva momente la dispozitie pentru a le puncta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Si un lichid ce se scurge pe obrajii mei din cand in cand nu cred ca ar trebui sa fie vreo problema pentru nimeni.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;NU eu sunt defecta ca nu pot sa vad crime.. voi sunteti defecti ca v-ati imunizat la ele.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Sa-mi fie cu iertare.. dar asa am fost de mica.. si nu cred ca mai am vreo sansa sa ma schimb acum.. si nici nu vreau.. pentru ca vreau sa-mi pese, vreau sa ma atinga ceea ce vad sau ceea ce mi se-ntampla, vreau sa fiu OM!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/36707873-266150281215686102?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/266150281215686102/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=266150281215686102' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/266150281215686102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/266150281215686102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/02/despre-lacrimi.html' title='Despre lacrimi...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SY4SaXJOUfI/AAAAAAAAAew/XjFzYhFOPYc/s72-c/SANY0088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8255139083086491476</id><published>2009-02-05T18:24:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T18:49:04.301+02:00</updated><title type='text'>La multi ani!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Sunt oameni pe care ii port zi de zi in gand si in suflet.&lt;br /&gt;Oameni care mi-au schimbat viata la un moment dat, oameni care orice ar face sunt iertati si care orice ar zice sunt ascultati.&lt;br /&gt;Oameni care poate m-au facut sa plang, dar incerc mereu sa-mi aduc aminte doar de momentele in care am ras.&lt;br /&gt;Oameni pe care mi-ar placea sa-i am zi de zi langa mine, dar cum stiu ca asta nu se poate - zilele se duc si doar gandul ma mai poarta catre ei.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt oameni pe care mi-e greu sa recunosc ca inca ii iubesc cu toata forta si pentru care as fi in stare sa fac poate prea multe lucruri - daca mi-ar cere asta.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt oameni minunati.. unii dintre ei nu stiu sa aprecieze ceea ce primesc, dar asta pentru mine conteaza mai putin, pentru ca si asta e o arta - sa dai fara ceri prea multe in schimb.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt oameni care imi cer imposibilul si pentru o secunda am nebunia de a incerca sa ofer asta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Sunt oameni pe care ii port in bagajele mele, in cartile pe care le citesc, in melodiile pe care le ascult, in poeziile pe care le scriu, in visele din fiecare noapte, in ambitiile de fiecare zi, in tot ceea ce fac pas cu pas.. pentru ca ei m-au ajutat, poate involuntar, sa ajung cea de azi ..si inca mai cresc - chiar daca unii numai sunt langa mine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asta-vara am primit melodia asta pe mess, eram o copila care nu stia ce i se-ntampla, era prinsa intr-un vartej prea serios pentru ea.. dar uite-ma azi - ofer inapoi aceasta melodie.. inapoi unuia dintre oamenii despre care am scris mai sus... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Ar mai fi multe de spus despre el.. dar..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;... minunile de zi cu zi stau in cuvintele nerostite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La multi ani dragul meu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HeLdF7ONGts&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HeLdF7ONGts&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-8255139083086491476?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8255139083086491476/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8255139083086491476' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8255139083086491476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8255139083086491476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/02/la-multi-ani.html' title='La multi ani!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-3859196567461854974</id><published>2009-01-31T21:08:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T21:30:08.519+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pentru un minut...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Sufocata de caldiri, de panouri publicitare, de farmacii, de bipuri si sms-uri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Sufocata de oras, cu aglomeratia lui, cu nesimtirea lui, cu praful lui, cu claxoanele lui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Poate doar noaptea orasul apuca sa-si traga sufletul si atunci pe la 2-3  conduc cu viteza legala si ma multumesc de distanta pe care o simt fata de fiecare bloc, panou, farmacie sau apel primit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Si noaptea nu ma mai suna decat cate un prieten nedormit care pur si simplu vrea sa ma auda, noaptea nu mai primesc mesaje decat de la tata si nu mai dau niciun semn nimanui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Pun pariu ca nimeni nu s-a mai gandit la faptul ca aproximativ 98 la suta din oamenii care sunt in fiecare zi transportati cu ambulantele (masinile alea pentru care ne dam noi la o parte mega rapid in  trafic)... eh majoritatea persoanelor respective sunt pentru prima ora in viata lor in acea masina.. si poate chiar si pentru ultima oara - si nu zic asta cu gandul ca dupa aia dau coltul..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Mi-e somn, mi-e foame, mi-e dor, mi-e frica, mi-e in fiecare zi uimitor de la fel...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Probabil e vorba de oboseala.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;In mare e vorba de un ritm alert in care ne-am obisnuit sa traim.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Trezirea, dusul, iesirea din parcare, traficul, trasee, parcare iar, trafic,trasee, parcare, ore de ceva, parcare, trafic, trasee,parcare,trafic, trasee, ore de altceva,parcare, trasee  etc etc etc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Si unde naiba esti minutul ala in care imi da voie societatea sa pot sa ma gandesc.. mi-e pofta de asta.. mi-e pofta sa mai am timp sa ma opresc si pur si simplu sa ma gandesc, unde am ajuns, ce mai am de facut, ce-mi mai trebuie, ce trebuie sa remediez in viata mea..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Nu.. avem in schimb timp sa cumparam, sa folosim si sa aruncam ce am folosit.. si asta in draci... avem timp sa mancam si sa obosim apoi, avem timp sa dormim 3-4 ore pe noapte si apoi s-o luam de la capat, avem timp sa ne sunam prietenii - DAR niciodata sa-i vedem.. avem timp sa ne sunam parintii - dar atat de rar sa-i mai intalnim..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Ne planificam vacantele cu luni de zile inainte, ne planificam o iesire la film cu saptamani inainte, ne planificam ziua de nastere cu jumatate de an inainte, atat stim sa facem.. sa ne planificam.. dar.. uitam sa ne bucuram cu adevarat.. caci parca mereu avem senzatia ca cineva lipseste.. e probabil chemarea societatii...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Obosita de alergatura, de a mai incerca sa fiu printre cei mai buni, de a mai incerca sa schimb ceva, de a mai incerca sa ajung cineva - undeva....asa scriu postul asta.. grabindu-ma sa ajung la o repetitie de noapte,incercand sa fiu printre cei mai buni, incercand sa schimb cu ceva lumea asta, incercand sa ajung cineva-undeva..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Cu nimic mai speciala decat voi toti ceilalti.. cu nimic mai speciali decat cei care deschid farmacii in incintele unor case vechi, superbe.. dar maltratate de firme luminoase uriase.. sau de cei care pun panouri publicitare pe fiecare metru patrat al orasului..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Orasul meu respira greu.. iar eu? .. ma sufoc...imi dezvolt claustrofobia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Vreau minutul meu de gandire!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-3859196567461854974?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/3859196567461854974/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=3859196567461854974' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3859196567461854974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3859196567461854974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/01/pentru-un-minut.html' title='Pentru un minut...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6164405311714296942</id><published>2009-01-05T00:04:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T00:36:23.122+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Vreau sa mai cred in povesti..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SWEzWMpyAhI/AAAAAAAAAeM/Pd4q-LremFs/s1600-h/7840733ce390262fde065b602a963301.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287563893956280850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 152px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SWEzWMpyAhI/AAAAAAAAAeM/Pd4q-LremFs/s320/7840733ce390262fde065b602a963301.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa mai cred in Fat-Frumos si vreau sa cred ca nu e o rusine daca ma duc eu la el si ii spun ceea ce simt - si vreau sa cred ca dupa aceea el nu o sa rada de mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa mai cred in Fat-Frumos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca tot ce au scris oamenii mari candva mai e valabil si astazi, ca toate vorbele bune pe care le citesc zi de zi pot fi aplicate de cei din jurul meu, dar mai ales de mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca traiesc ca  sa ma folosesc de tehnologie, nu traiesc ca sa am parte de tehnologie, nu vreau sa fiu sclava computerelor si a telefonelor mobile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca toti cei care au murit inaintea mea, pentru ca eu sa am o viata mai buna azi, au ajuns intr-un rai al lor, alaturi de marii oameni ai tuturor timpurilor, care ne zambesc zi de zi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca toti o sa platim la un moment dat pentru greselile din viata asta - si poate de asta incerc sa fac cat mai putine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau  sa cred ca iubirea nu e un lucru josnic, ci este cel mai nobil sentiment din lume si cine nu e in stare sa accepte o iubire care vine fara pretentii - inseamna ca isi pierde timpul prin viata lui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca toate povestile au un final fericit, oricarea ar fi personajele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca o viata fara vise e o viata pustie, iar o viata plina de vise e o viata ce merita traita din plin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca fiecare cuvant bun pe care-l spun sau pe care-l scriu are un ecou in cei din jurul meu, si chiar daca nu intotdeauna primesc raspunsuri bune - oamenii nu vor sa raneasca intentionat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca daca vreau sa fiu fericita nu inesamna ca vreau sa fiu egoista.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca prietenia este cea mai importanta valoare pe care o poate avea un om, si ca este singurul lucru pe care chiar poti sa-l iei in mormant cu tine si pe care il lasi ca pe un dar celor de aici.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca daca ati citit pana aici postul asta puteti sa schimbati ceva din voi si din vietile voastre, sa deveniti mai intelegatori si mai corecti cu cei din jurul vostru - chiar daca corectitudinea uneori doare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca fiecare lucru sincer pe care il fac nu e o greseala ci este o caramida pusa in experienta de viata pe care o adun zi de zi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred in mine mai mult decat o fac acum, vreau sa am ambitii mai mari, vise mai puternice, vreau sa am curaj mai mult, vreau sa pot sa spun ceea ce simt cand simt, vreau sa nu mai am complexe,  sa-mi intrec asteptarile, vreau sa nu mai am simtul penibilului si sa ma eliberez de toate frustrarile si greutatile pe care le-am adunat de-alungul anilor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca ..chiar daca am atat de putini ani, experienta nu e legata de ani neaparat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca toti cei care citesc acum asta... ma vor lua in serios maine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Vreau sa va multumesc ca existati in viata mea.. cu bune si cu rele..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;O noapte cu stele...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;...despre noptile cu stele.. intr-un post viitor..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6164405311714296942?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6164405311714296942/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6164405311714296942' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6164405311714296942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6164405311714296942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/01/vreau-sa-mai-cred-in-povesti.html' title='Vreau sa mai cred in povesti..'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SWEzWMpyAhI/AAAAAAAAAeM/Pd4q-LremFs/s72-c/7840733ce390262fde065b602a963301.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-3587827287202225276</id><published>2009-01-03T01:28:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T02:03:17.096+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Femei de succes..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SV6jt4k8cLI/AAAAAAAAAeE/nQ3cnCV6JKw/s1600-h/IMG_5724.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286843021256323250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SV6jt4k8cLI/AAAAAAAAAeE/nQ3cnCV6JKw/s320/IMG_5724.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Sa va mint.. sa nu va mint..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Sa joc modestia.. sa nu joc modestia.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;E hai..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Da, vreau sa ajung o femeie de succes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Diferenta dintre o femeie de succes si Simona Senzual e foarte mare, dar asta o s-o explic intr-un alt post, sau la cum ma stiu.. niciodata, dar daca ati prins aceasta propozitie imi intelegeti gusturile si criteriile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;In Romania iti trebuie ceva noroc ca sa reusesti, ceva mai mult noroc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Nu stiu cat de frumoasa, desteapta, piloasa sau bogata trebuie sa arati ca esti ca sa reusesti.. dar cum nu sunt in mare in niciuna dintre categoriile enumerate, evident ca sansele mele intr-o cariera de succes sunt minime, dar doar pentru ca sunt minime- si nu inexistente- doar pentru asta si eu ma zbat zi de zi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Trecand de la aceste amnunte si ganduri personale, o sa trec la subiectul postului:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Femei de succes (in Romania)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;[Apropo, astea's parerile mele, sunt mai mult decat sigura ca parerile voastre nu coincid, dar asta  nu ma priveste...asa ca daca pentru voi Nikita e o femeie de succes, eu o sa ma introc la ale mele]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca e o mare diferenta intre femeile de succes din Romania si femeiele gonflabile- a se citi prefabricate- de pe piata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Nu stiu de ce, dar din prima vreau sa scriu numele : Andreea Marin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;De ce?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Pentru ca stiu ca eram foarte mica, cand ma plimbam prin TvrIasi cu degetul in gura si ma jucam cu ea pe holuri, apoi mi-aduc aminte ca intr-o zi am ajuns in redactie si am intrebat de Andreea si doamna Vanda Condurache mi-a spus ceva ce nu o sa uit niciodata: "Andreea e probabil in avion acum spre Bucuresti, asa o sa ajungi si tu cand o sa cresti mare"... Cred ca atunci mi s-a deschis apetitul si am inceput sa vreau sa prezint toate emisiunile de copii de pe postul ala mic si nevazut de nimeni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Apoi a crescut, cum a ajuns de la "Tara lui Piticot" la a face documentare pentru UNICEF ca ambasador al bunavointei.... cum?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Prin munca, curaj si cred eu ceva mai mult noroc.. dar cum e si cu norocul asta.. cica si-l face omul cu mana lui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Da.. nu eram o telespectatoare a Surprizelor.. dar asta nu ma face sa nu apreciez totusi o femeie care a ajuns sa fie cunoscuta de toata tara sub conotatii pozitive, care a ajuns sa intervieveze atati oameni importanti, care a stiut sa faca din propriul nume un brand, dar a stiut sa pastreze in fata brandului- omul!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Sunt sigura ca ma puteti combate cu o mie de argumente, dar eu cred ca Andreea Marin e una dintre femeile de succes din Romania.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;La polul opus, o sa va vorbesc despre o femeie de succes din teatru, ca sa demonstrez ca succesul nu trebuie confundat cu vedetismul...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;O femeie care a plecat din comuna Oitzu, tot din Moldova ca doamna de mai sus.. dar din Bacau..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;O femeie de 89 de ani, care inca mai joaca pe scena nationalului bucurestean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;O femeie extraordinara.. cu o actvitate profesionala pe care orice actrita si-ar dori sa o aiba..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Fim, teatru, pedagogie... Olga Tudorache e o lista de distinctii si de reusite...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Cred ca de pe la vreo 10 ani am tot vazut Regina Mama, si de fiecare data plang si mai trec printr-o lectie de actorie... este extraordinara energia si puterea acestei femei. Dupa fiecare reprezentatie,ma gandesc daca mai are rost sa fac meseria asta, caci aici ori esti cel mai bun ori nu esti nimic, si de fiecare data ma ambitionez pentru o lunga perioada de munca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Superba...o adevarata doamna....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;O alta femeie de succes si deasemenea o doamna extraordinara: Doina Levintza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Pentru cine nu stie, Doina Levintza are 69 de ani si o cariera solida in moda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Am citit undeva ca dansa nu se considera o creatoare de moda ci o creatoare de costume.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Am avut sansa vara trecuta sa o intalnesc intr-o conjunctura foarte frumoasa, intr-o zi calduroasa dar destinsa... si mi-a pus vesnica intrebare: "la clasa cui esti?" -  cand am raspuns : "domnului Ion Cojar".. am vazut-o cum brusc parca mi-a dat mai multa atentie, mi-a vorbit atunci despre o istorie a costumelor pe care mi-a recomandat s-o citesc... mi-am dat seama in timp ce-mi vorbea ca am in fata o doamna, si ca imi doresc sa ajung si eu asa candva...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Vreau nu vreau trebuie sa recunosc ca intr-un fel nu prea mai gasesc nume in capsorul asta al meu plin  de atatea si atatia.. si cum orele sunt inaintate... vreau sa cred ca aceste trei nume sunt poate singurele despre care chiar vreau sa scriu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;De ce?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Simplu..pentru ca fac diferenta... pentru ca din umbra sau din fata refelectoarelor... de oriunde le-ai privi, aceste femei - vrem nu vrem.. vor ramane intr-o istorie scrisa sau nu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Hey rup.. si hai la treaba ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;sau cum zicea instructorul de tae-bo "hai fetele, ca fluturasii"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-3587827287202225276?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/3587827287202225276/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=3587827287202225276' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3587827287202225276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3587827287202225276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/01/femei-de-succes.html' title='Femei de succes..'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SV6jt4k8cLI/AAAAAAAAAeE/nQ3cnCV6JKw/s72-c/IMG_5724.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-942543549422875105</id><published>2009-01-03T01:15:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T01:27:22.755+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Noul an...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Un an nou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Bilant si liste...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Cam asta fac la fiecare inceput de an..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Trag linie pentru ce a fost si ma gandesc la ce am de facut mai departe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Si Slava Domnului in ambele categorii am ceva de pus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Bilantul... suna bine, am resuit sa fac cam tot ce mi-am propus pe 2008, ba chiar si mai multe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Nu pot spune ca am ars etapele, ci ca le asimilez rapid si serios..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Pentru noul an?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Pai ce sa zic, anul asta am aflat si eu de superstitia aia cu chilotii, da am stat 19 ani in bezna n-am stiut ca daca in noaptea de revelion porti chiloti rosii o sa ai noroc in amor, eh.. si mi-am adus aminte ca anul trecut am avut chilotii rosii si va spun sincer ca nu mai vreau un an atat de zapacit din acest punct intim de vedere, prefer sa nu mai am noroc in dragoste de acum intr-0 mie de ani...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Asa ca m-am interesat de semnificatia altor culori  ca sa stiu ce chiloti port, si am aflat ca verdele si galbenul- sunt culorile succesului si bogatiei, asa ca o pereche de chilotei in dungi verzi cu galben s-au asortat de minune cu rochia mea cea neagra pe care am putat-o, caci de revelionul asta am fost la o pseudo-petrecere deghizata.. si eu am fost Audrey Hepburn... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Trecand peste detaliile petrecerii, evident ca partea cu chilotii am scris-o nu pentru ca vreau sa va anunt ce lenjerie am in dulap, ci pentru ca treaba asta e strict legata de scopurile mele in anul ce tocmai a inceput.. poate nimic nu s-a schimbat, am dat doar de o oaza de maturitate caci cat de curand schimb prefixul si asta ma infricoseaza rau de tot.. mie mi-e bine aici la "1"..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Ma rog, nu o sa incep de pe acum depresia mai am 3 luni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Fie.. deci despre asta e vorba cu anul asta nou..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Vreau acum sa ma pun sa scriu un post despre femeile de succes pe care le apreciez eu... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Atentie: doar din Romania.. sunt curioasa cat de greu o sa-mi fie sa gasesc asemenea specimene..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;La multi ani.. ca 2008 si de o mie de ori mai buni!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-942543549422875105?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/942543549422875105/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=942543549422875105' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/942543549422875105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/942543549422875105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2009/01/noul.html' title='Noul an...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-5717568039701086973</id><published>2008-12-25T15:44:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T16:06:03.803+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Craciun linistit....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SVOOwe0RTXI/AAAAAAAAAd8/M1b-ZaL5qzE/s1600-h/love%2520actually.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283723751392890226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 236px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SVOOwe0RTXI/AAAAAAAAAd8/M1b-ZaL5qzE/s320/love%2520actually.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ziua de Craciun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Cica de Craciun e vremea impacarilor, e vremea iertarii, a iubirii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Craciunul asta pentru mine a fost unul dintre cele mai linistite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Am invatat multe din trecut si astfel am invatat ca mai intai de toate trebuie sa fiu corecta fata de mine, si apoi asta nu e tot, important e sa am puterea sa-mi cer iertare de la cei fata de care am gresit candva, sa stau langa cei care ma iubesc, sa spun tot ce simt cand simt- pentru ca poate nu o sa am o urmatoare sansa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Vreau sa cred ca mi-am  inchis majortatea conturilor pe care le aveam deschise cu mine si cu cei din jur.. cel putin pe anul asta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Mi-e bine, e liniste, e cald, multe zambete si o atmosfera foarte pozitiva, cred ca de asta avem nevoie cu totii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Le multumesc tuturor celor care au stiu sa ierte, sa iubesca, sa-si ceara iertare, sa recunoasca iubirea cand au primit-o, sa daruiasca zambete si bunatate..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Va urez tuturor un Craciun minunat langa cei pe care-i iubiti, cu gandul la cei care va lipsesc, si cu sufletul la cei de care va este dor si sunt prea departe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Sarbatori fericite!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-5717568039701086973?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/5717568039701086973/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=5717568039701086973' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5717568039701086973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5717568039701086973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/12/craciun-linistit.html' title='Craciun linistit....'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SVOOwe0RTXI/AAAAAAAAAd8/M1b-ZaL5qzE/s72-c/love%2520actually.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-7897065367742758115</id><published>2008-12-22T01:39:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T02:19:58.381+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mi-e rusine cu voi..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SU7URVghB9I/AAAAAAAAAd0/7SwnpK0U-Hg/s1600-h/iliescu.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EurYcWhoQoY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EurYcWhoQoY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M-am nascut in '89, in martie... aveam doar cateva luni cand s-a pornit revolutia, nu stiu decat ce mi s-a povestit. Cum ca mama si cu tata erau cand prin Piata Revolutiei cand prin televiziune ca sa-si faca meseria, imortalizand evenimentele.&lt;br /&gt;Nu, nu s-au dus dupa aceea sa-si ridice certificat de revolutionar, si din punctul meu de vedere au fost prosti, pentru ca s-au dus multi alti "nimeni" care au stat in fata televizorului fara sa faca nimic si care au pretins dupa aia ca sunt revolutionari domne'.&lt;br /&gt;Trec peste aceste  detalii despre familia mea, caci vreau sa ajung la un alt subiect.&lt;br /&gt;Am vazut azi la tv stirea in care imi aratau cum la cimitirul Eroilor au inceput enoriasii sa arunce cu monede in Iliescu. Vreau sa va spun sincer ca mie mi s-a facut instantaneu pielea de gaina cand am vazut imaginile. Am mai scris eu p'aici ca plang cand ma uit la stiri, dar aceasta stire pentru mine a fost prea mult.&lt;br /&gt;Sa va explic si de ce.&lt;br /&gt;Eu nascuta in '89, deci crescuta in democratia de dupa '90 - vreau nu vreau sunt cat se poate de obiectiva cand vine vorba de ce s-a intamplat inainte si dupa Ceasusescu, asta pentru ca nu am cum sa stiu cum era pe vremea aia, stiu doar cum e acum .. si ascult diferite variante, diferite pareri ale celor mai mari decat mine.&lt;br /&gt;Dar acest nene Iliescu mie imi provoaca greata, putina istorie si putina luciditate... de atat ai nevoie ca sa-ti dai seama ca acest om e un manipulator inca in viata, un ucigas, un om inteligent, cu o minte extraordinara.. dar toate faptele sale ma ingrozesc, eu nu inteleg cum poate sa se trezeasca dimineata si sa se uite in oglinda.&lt;br /&gt;Poate asta inseamna sa ai stofa de bun politician, sa poti sa te minti pana si pe tine, sa-i manipulezi pana si pe cei mai apropiati camarazi, sa poti sa omori sute de oameni si totusi sa reusesti sa dormi noaptea.&lt;br /&gt;Nu pot sa-mi dau seama ce cauta nenea asta azi in cimitirul unde se odihnesc  cei care au murit pentru libertatea mea si a familiei mele, nu pot decat sa-i multumesc lui Dumnezeu ca a avut grija de parintii mei nebuni care "se plimbau" printre gloante la revolutie doar pentru ca astazi eu sa am o dovada video a ceea ce a fost atunci pe strazile Bucurestiului.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cat despre monedele aruncate.. nu inteleg inca de ce au aruncat cu monede, eu preferam sa arunce cu ceva de 9mm macar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Privind videoclipul pe care l-am atasat mai sus, stau si ma intreb ce naiba se intampla cu natia asta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Au ramas in viata doar scursurile unui popor curajos?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Oare au murit la revolutie singurii oameni care-si iubeau tara?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Unde naiba e iubirea aia de tara?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Unde e patriotismul din suflete?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Eu asa am fost crescuta, sa-mi iubesc, sa-mi apar si sa-mi ingrijesc tara si oamenii din ea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Cunosc un singur barbat care daca maine s-ar porni o revolutie ar iesi in strada fara sa clipeasca. Atat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Unul singur.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ori poate ceilalti se ascund de mine, ori pur si simplu poporul asta desi are o istorie magnifica, nu stie sa-si apere ceea ce in trecut de atatea ori ne-am castigat : libertatea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Cum se face ca un popor ca americanii, facut din zeci de natii puse toate pe o bucata de pamant, si-au creat un cult pentru tara lor.. si noi care suntem aici de cand ne stim.. nu putem sa ne aparam si sa ne valorificam ce ne-a dat Doamne-Doamne.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Noi stim sa stam cu burta la soare, cu mici-n stanga, berea-n dreapta, maneaua-n urechi - si sa ne plangem ca suntem obositi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Mi-e scarba de tine romanule, azi nu mai lupt pentru tine, azi lupt doar pentru Romania!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;RUSINE.RUSINE.RUSINE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-7897065367742758115?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/7897065367742758115/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=7897065367742758115' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7897065367742758115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7897065367742758115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/12/mi-e-rusine-cu-voi.html' title='Mi-e rusine cu voi..'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-2172452606357722719</id><published>2008-12-20T01:14:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T01:22:42.537+02:00</updated><title type='text'>It's rock'n roll</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nB9egSP0Bpo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nB9egSP0Bpo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Dintre toate stilurile de dans eu iubesc rock'n roll-ul ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Imi place la nebunie sa-l dansez si daca am si un partener pe masura dorintelor mele, totul e perfect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;E o nebunie, o senzatie unica, o bucurie si un zambet imposibil de sters de pe mutra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Iubesc rock'n roll-ul mai ales pentru ca si atunci cand repet la el nu simt ca ma chinuie ci ca ma provoaca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Nu stiu de ce am vrut neaparat sa va spun chestia asta in aceasta seara...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Se apropie sarbatoriele cu pasi repezi, s-a terminat scoala, mi-am luat o dorita vacanta..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Dar mai multe despre toate astea intr-un post viitor cand o sa va tot urez de bine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;See you later alligator!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-2172452606357722719?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/2172452606357722719/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=2172452606357722719' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2172452606357722719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2172452606357722719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-rockn-roll.html' title='It&apos;s rock&apos;n roll'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1931635191224267939</id><published>2008-12-15T01:25:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T01:34:39.921+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Comunicat</title><content type='html'>Am fost sfatuita sa-mi fac si un blog cu numele meu si pe care sa-l prezint ca "blog profesional".&lt;br /&gt;Ce naiba mai inseamna si asta, Dumnezeu cu mila.&lt;br /&gt;Dar hai.. am facut si asta..&lt;br /&gt;Mi se pare haios ca dupa vreo 2 ani de cand tot scriu pe aici ganduri, apasari, reusite si angoase.. acum trebuie sa-mi fac un blog unde sa-mi afisez datele spectacolelor in care apar sau, Doamne ajuta, o sa apar.. diferite proiecte in care ma implic, rezumatul editiilor de pe role..&lt;br /&gt;Stiu, multi dintre voi o sa ramana uimiti cand o sa afle ca din toamna eu saptamanal prezint o emisiune pe TvrCultural, ca fac tot felul de minunatii despre care nu scriu nimic pe aici.. si parca nici nu as vrea sa profanez blogul asta cu date d'astea atat de omenesti.&lt;br /&gt;Asa ca decizia e luata.&lt;br /&gt;Acesta ramane blogul meu de suflet.. cat despre puiul de blog "profesional" il voi pastra pentru cei care nu ma cunosc atat de bine (virtual sau real) si care sunt interesati de activitatea mea de zi cu zi.&lt;br /&gt;Desi nu apuc sa scriu prea des, vreau sa le multumesc celor care imi apreciaza scrierile, care-mi trimit mesaje si care ma bat la cap sa mai bag un post nou.&lt;br /&gt;Multumesc si desi intentia mea nu e sa atrag cat mai multi cititori, totusi recunosc ca simplul fapt ca stiu ca macar cineva-mi citeste aberatiile ma face sa ma simt ceva mai ok cand tastez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Va astept cu drag in continuare si aici si pe "blogul serios"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu, ANA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-1931635191224267939?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1931635191224267939/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1931635191224267939' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1931635191224267939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1931635191224267939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/12/comunicat.html' title='Comunicat'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8836592839628097515</id><published>2008-12-10T22:01:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T22:21:53.105+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pentru ca vreau...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SUAg6Azp30I/AAAAAAAAAds/1I5WdCiVCgk/s1600-h/2400-1273~Lovers-III-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278254944299376450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SUAg6Azp30I/AAAAAAAAAds/1I5WdCiVCgk/s320/2400-1273~Lovers-III-Posters.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt; Oamenii se numara in perechi...&lt;br /&gt;Doi cate doi trec prin viata.&lt;br /&gt;Alung de langa mine un viitor .. pentru iluzii.&lt;br /&gt;Un troc nu tocmai reusit, caci cu luciditate imi dau seama ca nu prea am ce sa castig, riscul e mare iar sufletul e doar unul.&lt;br /&gt;Dar cu o si mai mare luciditate scuip din mine si ultima farama de responsabilitate fata de gesturile mele, ma asigur, ca un bun sofer, ca nu exista niciun pieton pe care as putea sa-l ranesc si nicio alta masina aflata in depasire; bag a 5a si alerg pe autostrada cu vise si zambete, cu incertitudini si frici.. in speranta ca pe drum o sa existe un stop care sa ma tempereze, care sa-mi ofere timpul de care am nevoie pentru a-mi linisti foamea de fuga..&lt;br /&gt;Fuga de el, de mine, de alt el, de o alta eu.. de toti si de toate&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e foame de clipe superbe, mi-e sete de amintiri, mi-e groaza de mine!&lt;br /&gt;Si ma scot din orice viteza si ma las dusa de drum.. in dreapta mea nu perimit nimanui sa stea atata timp cat eu conduc atat de imprudent... iar pe drumul meu nicio regula de circulatie nu isi are sens.. nu vreau sa mai fiu omul regulilor pentru un timp.. imi dau voie sa fiu libera si neatenta, inconstienta si surprinzatoare ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In viata asta suntem numarati doi cate doi, cine nu are un doi.. isi cauta.. si cine nu-si cauta ori a gasit ori e nebun.. lasati-ma sa cred pentru un timp.. ca sunt nebuna.. caci imi place!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-8836592839628097515?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8836592839628097515/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8836592839628097515' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8836592839628097515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8836592839628097515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/12/pentru-ca-vreau.html' title='Pentru ca vreau...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SUAg6Azp30I/AAAAAAAAAds/1I5WdCiVCgk/s72-c/2400-1273~Lovers-III-Posters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1508036308414584959</id><published>2008-12-09T02:04:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:19:44.889+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ultimele cuvinte</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/ST22-n4Y_LI/AAAAAAAAAdk/CoB-W1jxccg/s1600-h/IMG_2562.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277575525321735346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/ST22-n4Y_LI/AAAAAAAAAdk/CoB-W1jxccg/s320/IMG_2562.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Ultimele cuvinte sunt in general cel mai greu de rostit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Uneori le spunem repede de frica sa nu ne scape ceva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Formulam propozitii scurte, dar pline de intelesuri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Facem referire la tot ce a fost si dam de inteles ca speram sa ne mai intalnim candva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Ultimele cuvinte sunt poate cele pe care le tinem cel mai bine minte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Cuvinte spuse de noi sau de cei de la care ne-am luat la revedere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Ultimele cuvinte pot sa departeze oamenii sau pot sa-i apropie, pot sa impuna o conduita sau sa distruga bariere, pot sa salveze relatii sau sa le incheie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Ultimele cuvinte pot sa raneasca sau pot vindeca unele rani, pot sa ne modifice viata sau sa nu ne schimbe cu nimic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Ultimele cuvinte pot fi spuse in graba presiunii unui final sau cu calm si rabdare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Putem sa le rostim sau sa le scriem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Ultimele cuvinte sunt ca un ecou pentru suflet, oricum si oricand ar fi spuse, ele lasa un ecou in sufletul celui care le aude, chiar daca se-ntampla a doua zi sa se produca o reintalnire, sau peste o luna, un an .. sau anii de zile.. reintalnirile vrem nu vrem ne reamintesc pentru cateva secunde de acel ultim moment, in care lucrurile au fost spuse pe nume..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;As vrea sa nu mai existe ultime cuvinte.. dar viata trebuie sa mearga inainte, viata trebuie sa-si urmeze cursul si ultimul lucru pe care l-am vrea ar fi sa ne pierdem si putina luciditate pe care o mai avem si sa ne lasam cu totul purtati de val.. da poate e mai poetic asa, dar azi imi lipseste poezia, azi am crescut putin mai mare si ma cam gandesc la ce o sa fie peste o zi, o saptamana, o luna.. o viata...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Un suras pentru ultimele cuvinte pe care ti le-am spus si care te-au trimis departe, departe de mine.. caci asa cred eu ca e mai bine acum... daca gresesc, daca am dreptate.. asta doar timpul o sa ne-o spuna... pana atunci.. clipele trec si fara mine langa tine.. si asta e bine!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-1508036308414584959?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1508036308414584959/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1508036308414584959' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1508036308414584959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1508036308414584959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/12/ultimele-cuvinte.html' title='Ultimele cuvinte'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/ST22-n4Y_LI/AAAAAAAAAdk/CoB-W1jxccg/s72-c/IMG_2562.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-3083072116417499313</id><published>2008-12-03T02:16:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T23:07:05.240+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Tratat despre prietenie la 3 dimineata</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Poate nu vedem mereu doua culori la fel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Poate nu simtim de fiecare data mirosurile la fel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Nu ne plac chiar aceleasi feluri de mancare, aceasi muzica sau aceleasi carti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Avem deseori puncte diferite de vedere despre unele sau altele..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Nu suntem mereu de acord cu oamenii cu care celalalt intra in contact, cu reltiile, cu iubirile sau cu despartirile celui de langa noi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Nu avem acelasi gust cand vine vorba de femei sau de barbati.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Ne certam mereu din niste stupiditati si ne juram ca nu ne mai vorbim unul cu celalalt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Ne sunam apoi, ne dam mailuri si sms-uri disperate in care facem referire la toate momentele minunate petrecute impreuna, si atunci descoperim ca sunt tare multe..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Radem, plangem, suferim si ne imbatam impreuna.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Ne pupam si ne batem, ne strangem de mana inainte sa intram in examene si ne uram bafta cand nu suntem unii langa altii..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Ne sunam de sarbatori sau in vacante sau pur si simplu atunci cand nu ne-am vorbit doar de doua zile..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Ne gandim unii la altii, ne aparam unii pe altii, ne judecam unii pe altii, ne acceptam unii pe altii, ne iertam unii pe altii..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Suntem insuportabili impreuna dar de nedespartit... suntem mereu unul in cautarea privirii celuilalt..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Ce ne tine impreuna?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Mainile noastre unite.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Atunci cand ne tinem de mana sau cand ne strangem in brate, la bine sau la greu.. stim ca asta conteaza cel mai mult.. ca mai presus de orice aspect material.. simplu fapt ca toata lumea se aduna cand unul e in necaz.. ne face mai puternici..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Asta e prietenia.. sa nu ai pe nimeni langa tine.. ci sa fim toata lumea pentru toata lumea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;M-am gandit ca mi-e greu acum sa decid cine merita sau nu titulatura de prieten.. si numarandu-i am realizat ca da.. am multi prieteni.. depasesc numarul de degete de la o mana.. dar nu numarul de degete de la ambele.. si asta e bine.. mi-e bine cu voi.. cu voi cei de zi cu zi.. cu voi cei cu care ma aud doar pe la telefon si ne vedem mai rar.. cu voi toti..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Sa pastram clipa asa cum e.. s-o imortalizam in zamebete si in momente fericite pe care le petrecem impreuna.. pentru ca cine stie cat timp o sa mai fim impreuna..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Si sa ne dam sanse!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Cu zambet pe buze.. ceva durere in suflet.. si o mie de poze cu noi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-3083072116417499313?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/3083072116417499313/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=3083072116417499313' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3083072116417499313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3083072116417499313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/12/tratat-despre-prietenie-la-3-dimineata.html' title='Tratat despre prietenie la 3 dimineata'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8317661678449473224</id><published>2008-12-02T00:06:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T02:41:35.138+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Povestind despre povesti</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/STRgmmRCVjI/AAAAAAAAAdc/G_rVeVxJaNc/s1600-h/jeux_d_enfants_2002_reference.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274947279780992562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/STRgmmRCVjI/AAAAAAAAAdc/G_rVeVxJaNc/s320/jeux_d_enfants_2002_reference.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; Trec pe langa noi povesti minunate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Povesti de dragoste, povesti de viata, povesti de cariera.. povesti cu si despre oameni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Oamenii si povestile lor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Povestile frumoase se scriu mereu din material frumos.. suflete senine si curajoase ce poarta in ele condeiul potrivit unei scrieri reusite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Mi-e dor de povestile din viata mea, de cele ce au trecut... uneori iti doresti sa poti lua totul de la inceput , sa ai sansa de a rescrie unele povesti al caror final nu te-a multumit.. dar asta-i viata o carte de povesti cu mii de titluri..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Azi scriu si rescriu povesti din viata mea: povesti despre vise, despre prietenie, despre curaj, despre incredere, despre dragoste... despre orgoliu, despre suferinta, despre placere, despre fericire, despre dimineti insorite pline de rasete, despre nopti nedormite pline de lacrimi, despre mine si despre voi..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Suntem doar niste trecatori in vietile celor pe care-i intalnim.. si cand nu mai suntem, ramanem niste povesti.. frumoase sau triste, dar asta depinde doar de noi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;...Totul a pornit de la o stire pe care am vazut-o saptamana trecuta la tv, despre o fata si un baiat care au murit pe munte, desi echipele de salvare au riscat enorm, nu au reusit sa-i gaseasca... si am tot fost bantuita de o imagine trista dar frumoasa.. pentru cei care au vazut Jeux d'enfants - si care-si aduc aminte momentul cimentului.. o paralela legata de zapada probabil se poate contura usor in fata ochilor..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Asa cum am privit eu totul.. mi s-a parut o poveste frumoasa... o poveste delicata si pretioasa..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Rar ma uit la stiri.. de cele mai multe ori cand ajung acasa mama e in fata tv-ului si se uita pe Realitatea, dar acolo se dezabate politica.. uneori ajung acasa inainte de 7.. rar.. dar mi se-ntampla.. si atunci sunt singura acasa, asa ca ma lungesc pe canapea cu Funny-n brate si ma uit pe Pro la stiri, Esca e evident aranjata  ca carte.. iar eu .. fie ca e vorba de o avalansa, o disponibilizare, un incendiu sau de o marire de preturi.. eu mai mereu incep sa plang..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;De ce ? Pentru ca nu au cum sa ma lase rece lacrmile sincere ale unor oameni necajiti, nu pot lasa povesti sa treaca pe langa mine fara sa ma atinga... cred ca asta imi da dreptul de a fi om in continuare..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Concluzia: ma bucur de programul meu indeajuns de incarcat care nu-mi permite sa ajung inainte de 7 acasa.. si totodata ma intristeaza partea din mine care fuge de adevarul stirilor de la ora 7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Una peste alta.. nu lasati povestile sa treaca pe langa voi, nu e prea mult timp.. si trebuie sa umpleti o carte intreaga!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Priviti oamenii din jurul vostru, ascultati-le povestile si chiar , cine stie, distribuitii in anumite roluri din unele povesti din viata voastra, inainte de toate .. toti suntem la fel de oameni si deci la fel de trecatori pe lumea asta, deci cu totii avem dreptul sa primim sanse!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/STRgdosvj1I/AAAAAAAAAdU/I0ub3rW7XPQ/s1600-h/jeux_d_enfants_2002_reference.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/STRgLkYmNYI/AAAAAAAAAdM/OCRulsG7Jug/s1600-h/jeux_d_enfants_2002_reference.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/36707873-8317661678449473224?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8317661678449473224/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8317661678449473224' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8317661678449473224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8317661678449473224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/12/povestind-despre-povesti.html' title='Povestind despre povesti'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/STRgmmRCVjI/AAAAAAAAAdc/G_rVeVxJaNc/s72-c/jeux_d_enfants_2002_reference.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-37854216451568800</id><published>2008-11-20T01:18:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T01:32:16.642+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fericirea...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;object height="41" width="440"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed/flash.php?type=audio&amp;amp;hash=c5f87915b3807e&amp;amp;userid=chien&amp;amp;src=hi5"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed/flash.php?type=audio&amp;hash=c5f87915b3807e&amp;userid=chien&amp;src=hi5" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" allowfullscreen="true" width="440" height="41"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cineva tare drag mie, care poate nici nu stie ca mi-e acolo undeva in suflet vreau nu vreau... zicea zilele trecute ca cel mai frumos e sa ti se-ntample lucruri neasteptate.. de la persoane neasteptate...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E frumos cand viata te duce cu pasi mici spre intamplari neaspteptate, dar frumoase.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Poate ca lucrurile simple sunt cele mai frumose.. cele mai importante..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Azi sunt fericita.. dar nu luati cuvantul asta asa cum e .. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suna fad, suna sec.. suna fara sens..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fericirea nu e un cuvant, e o stare in care zambesti mereu, in care ti-e cald si ti-e bine, o stare in care nimic nu conteaza mai mult decat simpla atingere dintre doua maini, simpla privire aruncata in treacat, nimic nu conteaza mai mult decat gesturile simple..care zic tot...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Azi... sunt fericita.. si asta e bine!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-37854216451568800?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/37854216451568800/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=37854216451568800' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/37854216451568800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/37854216451568800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/11/fericirea.html' title='Fericirea...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-7808098442194965086</id><published>2008-11-16T14:52:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T15:10:25.232+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dor de tine..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SSAYnq1ysMI/AAAAAAAAAdE/o3e9tYl2rZY/s1600-h/SANY0181.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269238633817354434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SSAYnq1ysMI/AAAAAAAAAdE/o3e9tYl2rZY/s400/SANY0181.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;  ...dor de noi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;    Miroase a iarna, miroase a noiembrie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Mai stii unde erai in noiembrie anul trecut?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Mai stii unde erai in noiembrie acum doi ani?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Iti mai aduci aminte de vreun noiembrie?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Strazile sunt prafuite si tacute, strazile canta cantece de mult uitate, cantece de dragoste, de dor.. cantecele clipelor trecute si a celor ce au sa vina!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;As vrea sa pot sa fiu trista, sa ma gandesc cu nostalgie la iernile ce au trecut peste mine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Dar eu nu stiu cum sa fac sa grabesc toamna asta.. ca sa ajung sa simt primii fulgi de nea..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Mi-e dor de prima ninsoare..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Unde erai anul trecut cand ai vazut primii fulgi de nea?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Eu imi aduc aminte tot.. si cand scot din sertarul cu amintiri cate o fila, zambesc si nu regret nimic.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Poate anul asta mai mult ca oricand vreau sa-mi fie cald, sa bem ciocolata cu piper si sa ne dezbatem proiectele, reusitele, esecurile si dorurile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Poate anul asta mai mult ca oricand vreau sa fim toti, asa cum ne-am obisnuit sa fim.. chiar si daca asta inseamna ca trebuie sa notam unele absente, dar in suflet probabil o sa simtim agitatia cu care ne-am obisnuit, agitatia unei dimineti intr-o casa plina de oameni, fiecare cu tabieturile lui, cu zapacelile lui si cu agitatia lui...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Azi.. mi-e dor de tine.. mi-e dor de noi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Maine o sa fiu langa tine iar.. o sa fim impreuna tot noi!! Pentru ca asa ne e cel mai bine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-7808098442194965086?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/7808098442194965086/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=7808098442194965086' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7808098442194965086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7808098442194965086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/11/dor-de-tine.html' title='Dor de tine..'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SSAYnq1ysMI/AAAAAAAAAdE/o3e9tYl2rZY/s72-c/SANY0181.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-4170167940153243976</id><published>2008-11-10T20:40:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T20:53:03.991+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Un alt dicteu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SRiAWY5JtOI/AAAAAAAAAc8/1IH5WHRwheY/s1600-h/mis_sie_uczy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267100886337434850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SRiAWY5JtOI/AAAAAAAAAc8/1IH5WHRwheY/s320/mis_sie_uczy2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt; Furie, nevoie , teama, zambete, picioare, culori, fir, neputinta, speranta, suras, atingeri, vina, scuze, viteza, lumini, muzica, rosu, verde, transparenta, uitare, inceput, fulgi de nea, revelion, stai langa mine, nu pleca, alerg, plec, iubesc..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Ce prostii imi trec prin cap, parca nimic nu se leaga cu nimc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Nu sunt trista, nu sunt vesela, nu sunt eu , nu mai sunt nimeni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Si da, mi-e bine asa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Fug de mine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Nu, doar ca m-am gasit, si mi-e bine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Nu cer prea multe, vreau doar zapada si ceaiuri calde,si prajituri si buna dispozitie. Vreau jocuri de societate, dar mai vreau ceva, vreau sa fie langa mine anumiti oameni, prieteni de azi si de ieri, iubiri uitate pe-o etajera si iubiri ce se asteapta descoperite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Vreau roz si alb si galben si bleumarin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Vreau muzica la maxim si vitezometru peste 100&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Vreau sa ma intorc in timp si sa  schimb lucruri, si vreau sa merg in viitor sa vad ce-o sa mi se-ntample.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Vreau sa le fie bine celor din jurul meu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Vreau sa ma simt pentru mult timp atat de bine ca azi, ca ieri, ca alataieri... ca maine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Vreau sa pot!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Sa pot ce?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Sa pot tot!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-4170167940153243976?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/4170167940153243976/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=4170167940153243976' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4170167940153243976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4170167940153243976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/11/un-alt-dicteu.html' title='Un alt dicteu'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SRiAWY5JtOI/AAAAAAAAAc8/1IH5WHRwheY/s72-c/mis_sie_uczy2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-4770087825776967939</id><published>2008-11-03T19:57:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T20:16:29.914+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Rasu'- plansu'</title><content type='html'>Cam de-a rasu' plansu' e situatia mea.&lt;br /&gt;Poate nu scriam postul asta daca nu simteam o mare nevoie de a refula.&lt;br /&gt;Astazi am stat toata ziua prin spitale, de ce? Ca sa se ajunga la concluzia ca e totusi bine sa ma internez cateva zile..&lt;br /&gt;Nu cred ca vrea cineva sa auda epoeea prin care am ajuns in cele din urma pe un pat pliabil de spital, pat ce nu se ridica la mai mult de 35cm de podea!&lt;br /&gt;Nu are rost sa va povestesc despre birocratie, pile,bani, ore pierdute sau nervi si sanatate consumate instant!&lt;br /&gt;Un lucru e amuzant in povestea mea, am plans azi de ciuda ca nu o sa mai pot merge o vreme la scoala...asta e cel mai nenorocit gand dintre toate, ce pot sa fac?...&lt;br /&gt;Sa ma fac repede bine si sa-mi astept colegii la repetitii prin saloane!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morala?&lt;br /&gt;Daca o pot considera o morala... Cred c-am invatat sa am mai multa grija de mine si poate candva nu voi mai avea nevoie de sistemul sanitar!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scuze pentru refulare..de aici de unde sunt acum nu am putut decat sa-mi folosesc tehnologia din dotare ca sa-mi alin dorul de scoala, de prieteni, de mama,tata,sora,frate, purcel si mai ales de fanel(funny)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pup pe toata lumea pana la o viitoare vizita ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-4770087825776967939?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/4770087825776967939/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=4770087825776967939' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4770087825776967939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4770087825776967939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/11/rasu-plansu.html' title='Rasu&apos;- plansu&apos;'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6351284984004185657</id><published>2008-10-29T20:41:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T20:56:46.941+02:00</updated><title type='text'>In catuse...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SQivRiI9mOI/AAAAAAAAAc0/9N3bPJDUCkg/s1600-h/3c4cdaa7b4159800527db74ee5e2f4a1.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262648880339458274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SQivRiI9mOI/AAAAAAAAAc0/9N3bPJDUCkg/s320/3c4cdaa7b4159800527db74ee5e2f4a1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Sufletul este un inadaptat din punct de vedere social.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Nu-l pot lua cu mine aproape nicaieri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Se vaita intr-una ca nu-l scot la plimabre, dar de fiecare data cand incerc sa ies cu el undeva se comporta ca un salbatic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;L-am scos in parc intr-o seara de octombrie si a luat-o razna, mirosea totul in jur, se uita ca nebunul la toti trecatorii de pe langa el, urla si ii venea sa sara in sus mereu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Apoi am zis ca poate daca-l duc la scoala o sa se comporte civilizat, dar nu, el a inceput sa cotrobaie peste tot, sa se bage in orice activitate de-a mea, desi ii ziceam ca nu e bine ce face si ca tot el o sa aiba de suferit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;L-am luat intr-o zi cu mine la teatru, dupa ce s-a indragostit de cel putin trei oameni dintr-un foc, s-a asezat cuminte si a inceput sa boceasca impreuna cu actorii de pe scena si oricat incercam sa-i explic termenul de conventie, el plangea si mai tare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Cel mai imprudent fapt dintre toate a fost cand am indraznit sa il rog sa vina cu mine intr-o plimabre cu trenul, nu s-a abtinut si s-a indragostit definitiv de unul dintre calatori si de atunci incerc sa-i arata zi de zi cum e viata, incerc sa-l scot din starea lui de nebunie, dar nu e chip sa razbat cu el.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Imi pare un suflet tare orgolios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Asa ca l-am pedepsit, sufletul meu nu mai iese din casa, nu-l mai scot in parc- nici cand imi scot cainele la plimbare, nu-i mai dau voie sa vina la scoala cu mine, la teatru nu-l duc ca e multa lume..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Tot ce mai face sufletul meu e sa se uite in fiecare seara la cate un film, sa asculte zeci de melodii si sa spere.. sa spere ca intr-o zi o sa-l las sa mai vada lumina zilei..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Sufletul meu? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;E un inadaptat din punct de vedere social, acum?! e in catuse!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6351284984004185657?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6351284984004185657/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6351284984004185657' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6351284984004185657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6351284984004185657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/10/in-catuse.html' title='In catuse...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SQivRiI9mOI/AAAAAAAAAc0/9N3bPJDUCkg/s72-c/3c4cdaa7b4159800527db74ee5e2f4a1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-5318224811254049847</id><published>2008-10-26T14:34:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T15:30:37.452+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Zile de vara...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="440" height="41"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed/flash.php?type=audio&amp;hash=f1c1ac93a526ce&amp;userid=scarface&amp;src=hi5"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed/flash.php?type=audio&amp;hash=f1c1ac93a526ce&amp;userid=scarface&amp;src=hi5" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" allowfullscreen="true" width="440" height="41"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Flight of the Conchords - I'm not crying ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SQRoPn16GNI/AAAAAAAAAcs/o_UntFJ5Y0k/s1600-h/DSCF0357.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261444882277996754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SQRoPn16GNI/AAAAAAAAAcs/o_UntFJ5Y0k/s320/DSCF0357.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~(foto: Medias - iunie2008)~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am avut o vara plina si doar acum cand toamna s-a asezat serios in viata mea, realizez cat de agitata mi-a fost vara.&lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu exact daca mi-e dor de vara sau doar de anumite momente, senzatii prin care am trecut.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e dor de Amsterdamul Crinei si-al meu..&lt;br /&gt;Si ca sa vezi.. rar mi s-a intamplat pe blogul asta sa scriu nume de oameni din viata mea, rar -poate chiar niciodata.. nu-mi aduc prea bine aminte.&lt;br /&gt;Dar acum trebuie sa fac asta.. trebuie sa scriu despre prietenie si dor.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e dor de Amsterdam.. si nu pentru ca e cel mai "libertin" oras din Europa, ci pentru ca acolo m-am simtit eu.. nu-mi era dor de nimic din viata mea, pentru ca aveam senzatia ca le am pe toate... simteam ca respir prin fiecare por pe care-l posed..&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e dor de partea aia a verii.. Si in fiecare dimineata cand ma intalnesc cu Crina constient sau inconstient timp de cateva secunde aduc in jurul meu aerul ala de dimineata tarzie in care pedalam pe canale si de noapte vie cand bateam strazile ca la noi acasa spre nicaieri.&lt;br /&gt;Si mi-e dor de zilele calduroase in care plangeam de sarea camasa de pe mine pentru ca nu stiam ce mi se-ntampla.. pentru ca ma simteam prea mica si prea neputincioasa pentru ce mi se-ntampla.&lt;br /&gt;Si mi-e dor de vara ce tocmai s-a terminat.. dar n-as mai vrea s-o traiesc niciodata..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poate ca nu sunt coerenta, nici n-am de ce sa fiu, pentru ca as brava.. caci in sufletul meu acum se amesteca mii de culori, mii de stari, mii de dorinte, mii de regrete, mii de cuvinte nespuse.. mii de decizii neluate, mii de chipuri fericite, triste, obosite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e dor de tine oriunde ai fi ..si desi mi-e dor de un "tine" ce nu exista si nu a existat, as vrea sa imi sune pe la ora 5 telefonul si sa-mi spui ca vrei sa ma vezi ,ca pe la 6 scapi si ne vedem undeva pe la Universitate.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Si dupa ce ma prostesc cu gandurile astea, ma intorc la ale mele, ma intorc la textul pe care vreau nu vreau trebuie sa-l invat pentru actorie, ma intorc la vara din amintirile mele, una din verile alea pe care le pastrezi in memorie toata viata putin distorsionate.. vara mea a fost o vara superba...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Cat despre prietenie, in timp ce-mi tastam gandurile, mi-am dat seama ca vreau sa zic prea multe despre prietenie, asa ca o sa pastrez materialul pentru un post viitor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Ne vedem la 8 pe langa Lipscani... undeva pe Sf. Dumintru p'acolo!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-5318224811254049847?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/5318224811254049847/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=5318224811254049847' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5318224811254049847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5318224811254049847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/10/zile-de-vara.html' title='Zile de vara...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SQRoPn16GNI/AAAAAAAAAcs/o_UntFJ5Y0k/s72-c/DSCF0357.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-48368833948498730</id><published>2008-10-19T01:15:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T02:15:05.207+03:00</updated><title type='text'>E simplu...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SPph8CxOnrI/AAAAAAAAAck/eYQKpYoSCmI/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258623199071870642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SPph8CxOnrI/AAAAAAAAAck/eYQKpYoSCmI/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;- L-ai facut tu? - o intreaba el pe ea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;- Nu, o colega. - ii raspunde ea, zambind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Un timp se privesc unul pe celalalt si zambesc. In capul ei fug gandurile ca intr-o padure in miez de noapte, cand nu te poti ghida decat dupa luimna lunii. Lumina e data acum doar de reflectoarele din jurul lor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Cat se privesc ea nu ar vrea decat sa intre-n mintea lui pentru cateva secunde sa vada ce se-ntampla acolo, dar nu reuseste nici macar sa banuiasca, caci prin fata ochilor nu-i trec decat imagini de pe strazile pe care candva le bateau impreuna tinandu-se de mana, zile agitate in care-si prindeau pentru cateva secunde privirile agatandu-se unul de altul si apoi fugeau unde aveau treaba.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Azi se agata doar de amintiri, si poate ii place asa, pentru ca azi nu mai stie sa se asculte asa cum reusea s-o faca atunci, a invatat azi sa-si reprime orice sentiment care indrazneste sa-si faca culcus in sufletul ei, nu pentru a se proteja sau pentru ca si-a invata lectia, ci doar pentru ca asa ii e mai comod.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Stie prea bine ca nu o sa mai fie niciodata asa cum a fost, nici nu-si doreste asta, pentru ca ce a fost candva nu putea fi decat un esec - din prima clipa cand s-au privit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Traim cu esecurile noastre si rar invatam din ele, punem apoi zi de zi mii de flori peste ele, pana cand esecurile se transforma in amintiri frumoase.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Privindu-l azi si-a dat seama ca tot ce a iubit candva la el nu a fost un esec ingropat in flori, ci a fost un zambet agatat de o zi de mai in care credea ca poate schimba lumea, si odata cu lumea si viata ei. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Azi e agatata intre gandurile ei, poate nu agatata ci mai mult pierduta..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Plecand de acolo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;ea isi zicea ca ii e bine, le zambea oamenilor din jurul ei, radia de fericire si stia ca nu poate decat sa zambeasca pentru ca un singur moment in care obrajii si-ar fi luat repauz si lacrimile ar fi curs fara oprire. I se mai intamplase asta chiar la inceputul serii , nu ar fi vrut ca acum pe ultima suta de metri sa se arate lovita!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;A zambit cand a spus :"la revedere" si a zambit apoi pe drum, desi era singura -pana-n masina cand s-a inchis a dat muzica la maxim si a inceput sa tipe si sa planga...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Unii numesc asta descarcare, altii o numesc nebunie, unii ii zic durere, ea ii zice simplu: iubire!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-48368833948498730?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/48368833948498730/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=48368833948498730' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/48368833948498730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/48368833948498730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/10/e-simplu.html' title='E simplu...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SPph8CxOnrI/AAAAAAAAAck/eYQKpYoSCmI/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8976308499046685667</id><published>2008-10-06T20:48:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T02:19:45.671+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Scurt tratat de neputinta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SOpRGF7oqKI/AAAAAAAAAcc/Bt54UNfWQhc/s1600-h/JoyceNorwood-best-friends-p.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254101080394475682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SOpRGF7oqKI/AAAAAAAAAcc/Bt54UNfWQhc/s320/JoyceNorwood-best-friends-p.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vreau sa ne jucam, uitati pentru cateva momente de toate ale voastre si hai sa ne jucam.&lt;br /&gt;Jocul ii voi inventa pe parcurs, nici eu nu stiu exact unde vreau sa ajung, asa ca-l voi juca si eu in acelasi timp cu voi si astfel suntem pe picior de egalitate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uite, hai sa ne imaginam pentru cateva momente ca suntem cainele nostru preferat.&lt;br /&gt;Hai sa incercam pentru inceput sa clipim ca el, sa privim ca el… sa respiram ca el, sa ne miscam mainile ca si cum am avea labutele lui.. sa ne miscam intreg corpul ca el.. sa incepem incetul cu incetul sa gandim ca el, sa actionam ca el… fiecare por de-al nostru sa devina brusc por de-al lui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Poate pentru un inceput, un caine va pare oarecum dificil..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Hai sa incercam pentru cateva minute sa fim cel mai mare dusman al nostru, sau ma rog, persoana cea mai antipatica noua… sa incercam usor usor sa clipim ca respectiva persoana, sa privim… sa respiram asemenea, sa ne miscam mainile ca si cum nu ar fi ale noastre… ne se miscam si corpul in acelasi mod… sa incepem incetul cu incetul sa gandim la fel, sa actionam la fel.. fiecare por de-al nostru sa devina brusc por de-al lui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Oare acum ne vom intelege adeversarul, il vom apara, ii vom gasi astfel circumstante atenuante?... Il vom achita de orice vina mai devreme pusa, il vom proteja?....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Poate e mult prea greu sa ne lasam atat de dusi de val, poate daca am fi intr-un mediu mai sigur am putea pune in practica exercitiu…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Hai sa incercam pentru cateva minute sa fim cel mai bun prieten al nostru, cea mai apropiata persoana noua, jumatatea noastra(cine a gasit-o).. sa incercam usor usor sa clipim ca respectiva persoana, sa privim… sa respiram asemenea, sa ne miscam mainile ca si cum nu ar fi ale noastre… ne se miscam si corpul in acelasi mod… sa incepem incetul cu incetul sa gandim la fel, sa actionam la fel.. fiecare por de-al nostru sa devina brusc por de-al lui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;L-am inteles acum pe cel de langa noi, l-am putea ajuta mai mult acum, l-am sfatui mai bine, i-am da mai mult sau mai putin timp, l-am proteja, i-am zambi sau l-am tine mai mult in brate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;NU,nu am face nimic din toate astea pentru ca noi nu am reusit sa intelegem nici macar cainele de la inceputul jocului.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Poate cel mai nimerit exercitiu ar fi sa ne oprim pentru cateva momente sa constientizam modul in care noi clipim, modul in care privim, cum respiram, cum ne miscam mainile, trupul, sa ne analizam atent modul in care gandim, modul in care actionam fata de persoanele mai sus mentionate (si nu numai)… si poate sa incercam ca fiecare por de-al nostru sa fie parte din noi, parte constienta si acceptata…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;De unde a pornit totul.. din povestea unui caine fara trunchi- incercand sa inteleg ceea ce simte , am realizat ca nu stiu nimic din ceea ce simt eu, ca nu imi dau timp sa descopar toate nimicurile astea despre mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Nu e un manifest pentru cainii de pe strazile din Romania.. este un scurt tratat de tristete, tristetea unui vitezometru frate cu pedala de acceleratie, tristetea claxoanelor si a radioului, tristetea ceasului si a telefoanelor, tristetea mastilor si tristetea urateniei, tristetea orelor trecute si a celor ce au sa vina, tristetea momentelor pierdute si a celor ce au sa fie pierdute….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un mic tratat despre nimic din ce ne-ar face mai umani, sau despre tot ce ne-ar putea ajuta..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Povestea unui caine fara trunchi e azi povestea unui om fara prea mult timp, caci timpul se scurge in defavoarea noastra din pacate!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-8976308499046685667?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8976308499046685667/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8976308499046685667' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8976308499046685667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8976308499046685667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/10/scurt-tratat-de-neputinta.html' title='Scurt tratat de neputinta'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SOpRGF7oqKI/AAAAAAAAAcc/Bt54UNfWQhc/s72-c/JoyceNorwood-best-friends-p.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-5828145299689670843</id><published>2008-10-04T20:55:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T21:39:59.254+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sa ne ascundem</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SOezUtQuosI/AAAAAAAAAcM/LlKG_iFb8bM/s1600-h/Music_by_byluluka.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253364658679489218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SOezUtQuosI/AAAAAAAAAcM/LlKG_iFb8bM/s320/Music_by_byluluka.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Tot incerc sa scriu ceva si sterg, sterg, sterg.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Nu vreau sa fac un post trist, desi cam asa ma simt acum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;As fi vrut sa ma pot departa de mine si sa scriu ceva legat de voi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Numai ca nu prea gasesc in mine resursele necesare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Am de citit mult, pentu un examen pe care trebuie sa-l dau saptamana viitoare, probabil de asta azi mai mult ca niciodata m-am gandit la ceea ce mi se-ntampla, ca sa mai trag de timp sa nu ma vad pusa in fata lui Eschil, Sofocle sau Euripide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Azi am ajuns la multe concluzii..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Am ajuns sa cred ca zilnic imi lipseste curajul de a spune ceea ce simt cu adevarat, de a fi sincera cu mine si cu cei din jur. Uneori fac asta ca sa ii protejez pe cei din viata mea de unele decizii care i-ar putea rani, alteori fac asta considerand ca asa e cel mai corect si desi stiu ca am de suferit merg mai departe in decizia mea, pentru ca cei din jurul meu sa nu sufere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Acum mi-e greu sa aleg, intre ceea ce vreau eu si ceea ce vor ei de la mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Mi-e greu sa decid daca cel mai bine e sa ma pedepsesc si sa traiesc dupa ceea ce ar fi moral si demn din partea mea, sau ar fi mai bine pur si simplu sa ma ghidez dupa instinctul din dotare si sa aleg varianta in care fac ceea ce consider eu ca e corect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Pot parea aberatii, sau coduri scrise pentru unele persoane, sa le luam ca fiind si una si alta..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;As vrea sa am curajul sa actionez dupa regulile mele, numai ca regulile mele nu sunt chiar atat de bine puse la punct inca si se cam bat in cap cu regulile societatii..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Trecand de la una la alta.. fara vreo prea mare leagtura..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Am inceput scoala si mi-e tare bine acolo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Cu bune si cu rele, cu intrigi mai mult sau mai putin spectaculoase, cu ore de curs uneori interesante- alteori obositoare, cu colegi pe care vroiam sa-i reintalnesc si cu altii pe care speram sa nu-i mai vad niciodata, cu profesori noi si vechi, cu teluri mari si uneori amuzante,cu echipament de miscare- sau fara, cu clase prafuite si scaune ce scartaie...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Imi place scoala, asteptam scoala, imi lipsea scoala..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Un nou an scolar/universitar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;... oamenii se schimba, cred ca nu imi trebuie decat.. timp ca sa-i redescopar, sa le dau noi sanse si sa creez noi inceputuri.. eu pot si vreau sa ofer toate astea.. numai ca cineva trebuie sa-mi ofere si mie acelasi avantaj pe teren...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-5828145299689670843?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/5828145299689670843/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=5828145299689670843' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5828145299689670843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5828145299689670843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/10/sa-ne-ascundem.html' title='Sa ne ascundem'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SOezUtQuosI/AAAAAAAAAcM/LlKG_iFb8bM/s72-c/Music_by_byluluka.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6876690530411461950</id><published>2008-09-15T12:12:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T13:00:54.401+03:00</updated><title type='text'>toamna...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SM4nV_CtfII/AAAAAAAAAcE/V44YyqL3R9I/s1600-h/9tb5rP426199-02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SM4nV_CtfII/AAAAAAAAAcE/V44YyqL3R9I/s320/9tb5rP426199-02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246173874586745986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;A venit toamana.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Mie imi place toamna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Toamna se face trierea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Se triaza oamenii fericiti de cei nefericiti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Toamna nu te mai poti ascunde in spatele unor zambete false.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Mie.. imi place mirosul de toamna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Imi place sa stiu ca mi-e bine, desi afara e frig si incepe sa-ti inghete nasul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Imi place, ca ne putem ascunde in ceainarie, unde mirose frumos si e cald.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Imi place  ca desi el e plecat, stie ca am ramas pe maini bune.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Toamna iti numeri prietenii, ti se face dor de ei si daca esti un om norocos ii ai langa tine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Toamna e superba cand te trezesti dimineata si primesti mesaje de la fete cu programul din ziua respectiva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Toamna ti-e mai greu sa-i spui cat il iubesti, dar e mai usor sa iti citeasca asta in privire si in sarut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Toamna mi se face dor de scoala, de clasa 1.. si treptat de toate inceputurile de an scoalar.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Toamna imi place ca pot sa-mi etalez noile achizitii in materie de bluzite groase si gecute pufoase.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt; Toamna imi place sa beau ceai si sa ma plimb cu picioarele prin frunzele cazute prin parc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt; Toamna va iubesc....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Azi mi-e dor de el, dar ma incalzesc cu ideea ca si el se gandeste la mine la fel de mult pe cat ma gandesc eu la el.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Azi mi-e dor de scoala, dar asta e o stare naturala prin care trec de cand s-a terminat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Azi  sunt fericita, pentru ca stiu  ca si in toamna asta am langa mine niste fiinte superbe care ma fac in fiecare zi sa zambesc si sa le multumesc ca exista pe pamantul asta si ca au aparut in viata mea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Mi-e mila de oamenii singuri, mi-e mila de oamenii rai, mi-e mila de cei ce fac rau gratuit.. uneori imi doresc sa pot sa fiu  la fel de cruda ca ei, dar imediat realizez ca n-as putea niciodata sa ajung asa. pur si simplu nu am organul asta...poate si pentru ca sunt un om norocos si am tot ce poate sa faca un om fericit!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6876690530411461950?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6876690530411461950/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6876690530411461950' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6876690530411461950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6876690530411461950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/09/toamna.html' title='toamna...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SM4nV_CtfII/AAAAAAAAAcE/V44YyqL3R9I/s72-c/9tb5rP426199-02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-5890941740469732613</id><published>2008-09-03T23:41:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T23:50:26.754+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pentru purtatorii de suflete</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SL73Y58jxZI/AAAAAAAAATg/u7n4OaAA4Ag/s1600-h/IMG_3246.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241899023549580690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SL73Y58jxZI/AAAAAAAAATg/u7n4OaAA4Ag/s320/IMG_3246.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SL72rE1ncUI/AAAAAAAAATY/OdOuyF9-vBc/s1600-h/IMG_3646.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt clipe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt oameni...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt dorinte..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt regrete...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt biografii...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt prieteni...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt dimineti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt sticle goale..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt lacrimi de fericire..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt dureri insuportabile...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt nopti lungi..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt stele multe..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt vieti ce se unesc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt zambete ce tin de urat...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;sunt vise de implinit..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;pentru toate astea... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;va am pe voi....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;te am pe tine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;**nimic maret.. doar multe ecuatii cu sau fara prea multe necunoscute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-5890941740469732613?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/5890941740469732613/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=5890941740469732613' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5890941740469732613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5890941740469732613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/09/pentru-purtatorii-de-suflete.html' title='Pentru purtatorii de suflete'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SL73Y58jxZI/AAAAAAAAATg/u7n4OaAA4Ag/s72-c/IMG_3246.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-646924677667448162</id><published>2008-08-19T21:21:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T21:38:20.345+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Un mod stupid.. sau violent</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SKsPqmZAf2I/AAAAAAAAATQ/5Xw6OUcjXRQ/s1600-h/SANY0105.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236296216282693474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SKsPqmZAf2I/AAAAAAAAATQ/5Xw6OUcjXRQ/s320/SANY0105.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt; Copii nu se mai joaca de-a fata-ascunselea, nu mai ies in fata blocului sau in parcuri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Copii de azi se joaca de-a fata-ascunselea prin jocurile pc, in counter strike, mortal kombat sau alte asemenea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Copii de azi nu mai cred in povesti , nu li se mai pare nimic magic in povestea Cenusaresei sau in povestea lui Pinochio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Copii de azi nu mai stiu sa planga dupa masinute si papusi ci dupa dvd-uri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Copii de azi sunt oamenii mari de maine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Oamenii mari de azi nu mai stiu sa zambeasca la un film bun, cauta doar comedii sau actiune.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Oamenii mari de azi  nu mai au timp sa le explice copiilor diferenta dintre realitate si ficiune, nu mai au timp sa le raspunda la toate "de ce"-urile copilariei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Nu mai am timp sa recunosc cat de tare ma doare sau cat de bine imi este.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Nu mai am timp sa ma uit la un rasarit sau la un apus reusit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Nu mai am timp sa-mi doresc sa-mi revad prietenii...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Uneori mi-e dor de copilarie, de jocurile si "de ce"-urile ei, de prietenii de atunci si de senzatia de usturime din genunchi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Uneori imi pare rau ca am ajuns mare, poate nu indeajuns de mare, dar destul de mare incat sa trebuiasca sa ma gandesc si la ziua de maine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Azi am planuri de viitor, proiecte, relatii profesionale, azi uit ca viata e facuta si din vata de zahar, azi ma prefac ca sunt inca un copil...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Dar din pacate uitam sa ne judecam actiunile si ajungem sa le regretam de multe ori si atunci pierdem o parte din noi, de cele mai multe ori se pierde... copilul din noi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Vreau sa inchei acest post, nu tocmai vesel, cu un citat de pe un alt blog.. blogul actorului Marius Manole, un om la care tin foarte mult si pe care-l apreciez in mod deosebit, ba chiar am curajul sa spun ca in multe momente ale vietii  il iau ca pe un model demn de urmat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;"Cand moare dragostea ? Intrebarea e daca ea ne paraseste sau noi o parasim pe ea. Cine stie ? Daca dispare, dispare. E pentru ca nu suntem noi destul de fascinanti ? Pentru ca nu suntem destul de deschisi ? Pentru ca imaginatia moare ? Nu stiu exact cand dragostea moare, daca moare dintr-o moarte naturala sau trebuie de fiecare data s-o omoram intr-un mod violent si stupid. Nu stiu "  [O statie...]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-646924677667448162?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/646924677667448162/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=646924677667448162' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/646924677667448162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/646924677667448162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/08/un-mod-stupid-sau-violent.html' title='Un mod stupid.. sau violent'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SKsPqmZAf2I/AAAAAAAAATQ/5Xw6OUcjXRQ/s72-c/SANY0105.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8397105107429415943</id><published>2008-07-24T23:14:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T23:33:02.983+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Si acum ce??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SIjjd0NPJQI/AAAAAAAAATI/OmYrggRyO0Y/s1600-h/IMG_4321.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226677468933334274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SIjjd0NPJQI/AAAAAAAAATI/OmYrggRyO0Y/s320/IMG_4321.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt; Nu mai suntem copii.. azi nu ne mai jucam cu jucarele prin curte, astazi conducem masini si folosim motorina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Astazi nu asteptam sa ni se mai aduca mancarea in fata, astazi descoperim cat costa o bucata de branza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Azi nu mai stam toata ziua jucandu-ne de-a scoala, astazi avem examene.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Azi invatam sa pierdem si ca ne ridicam, azi avem proiecte care ne ies si altele care pica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Azi calatorim si ne cautam joburi.. astazi cand moare cineva realizam ce insemana asta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Azi iubim si suferim asa cum atunci cand eram mici aveam norocul sa nu patim..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Astazi.. am ajuns aici.. un inceput de drum lung...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Probabil scriu randurile astea doar ca sa le vad scrise, sa ma uit mai tarziu peste ele si sa vad ce gandeam cand.. pierdusem tot.. suflet, vise, sperante, sentimente.. ore de somn, rabdare, calm...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Adevarul e altul, in nopatea asta, dupa ce totul era ruinat, m-am dus sa-mi cumpar cate ceva de mancare, iesind din magazin in fata erau niste baieti de cartier care mancau seminte si vorbeau, din instinct ma feresc de astfel de grupuri, dar de data asta depasindu-i am auzit ceva incredibil din gura unuia: "Machiavelli-Principele", nu stiu contextul, desi primul impuls a fost sa ma intorc sa ascult si restul conversatiei, stiu doar ca brusc mi-am revenit si am fost in stare sa mai si traversez strada catre bloc... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;E de bine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;zic eu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;P.S: La multi ani Eugene!! pup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SIjjLy_sNAI/AAAAAAAAATA/JcH0yq6svl0/s1600-h/IMG_4321.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-8397105107429415943?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8397105107429415943/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8397105107429415943' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8397105107429415943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8397105107429415943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/07/si-acum-ce.html' title='Si acum ce??'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SIjjd0NPJQI/AAAAAAAAATI/OmYrggRyO0Y/s72-c/IMG_4321.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1458146410127139740</id><published>2008-07-13T01:46:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T02:17:50.259+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Balaurilor cu drag</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SHk6Xh6oJfI/AAAAAAAAASw/RVUdNPjKkGo/s1600-h/mansmile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SHk6Xh6oJfI/AAAAAAAAASw/RVUdNPjKkGo/s320/mansmile.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222269418828473842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;G. K. Chesterton a spuns ceva de genul : "basmele nu le spun copiilor ca balaurii exista, copii stiu asta deja, basmele le spun doar ca balaurii pot fi omorati"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Imi place cum suna, suna.. frumos, incurajator..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dar oare cum putem sa omoram astazi balaurii din viata noastra?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cum putem sa fugim de ei macar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu putem, asa ca nu ne ramane decat sa-i infruntam, cu propriile arme, cu propriile actiuni, cu ale noastre ganduri, cu ale noastre frici...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Balaurii zilelor noastre nu mai sunt ce au fost candva, astazi nu mai au palos, nu se mai ascund sub pamant si nu mai rapesc printese.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Balaurii de astazi zambesc, sunt inalti, frumosi, ii gasesti in cele mai alese locatii.. balaurii de astazi pot sa fie artisti cu aspiratii inalte sau simpli muritori cu zambet larg si stralucitor..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Balaurii din zilele noastre nu numai ca nu mai sunt la fel de infricosatori ca pe vremuri, dar ei se implica adesea in actiuni de caritate sau in actiuni glorioase, istorice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Balaurii de azi nu mai ranesc fizic, sunt mult mai rai si mai periculosi decat uratenile de pe vremuri, lovesc acolo unde te doare mai tare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si uite cum Fat-frumos a ramas o legenda, pe cand Balaurul cel groaznic, imbracat in hainele de gala, cu zambetul Colgate te distruge fara sa-ti dai seama, in 2 luni ajungi o leguma buna de o ciorba mediocra, ciorba pe care poti sa ti-o prepari singura din lacrimile zilnice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ce iti ramane de facut? Mai nimic.. poate doar sa uiti ca a existat vreodata o lume corecta in care Fat-frumos castiga mereu lupta cu Balaurul urat.. si sa te intorci la Mos Craciun, el macar e un mos batran, cu barba alba, cu burta cat un butoi si se si misca greu, dar macar el e sincer, iti aduce si el ce poate si cum bomboanele sunt preferatele mele, stie ca ma multumesc cu putin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SHk7STEFiLI/AAAAAAAAAS4/NQ_R_kYRYKg/s1600-h/cokelore_santa_1951.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SHk7STEFiLI/AAAAAAAAAS4/NQ_R_kYRYKg/s200/cokelore_santa_1951.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222270428453898418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-1458146410127139740?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1458146410127139740/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1458146410127139740' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1458146410127139740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1458146410127139740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/07/balaurilor-cu-drag.html' title='Balaurilor cu drag'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SHk6Xh6oJfI/AAAAAAAAASw/RVUdNPjKkGo/s72-c/mansmile.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-3158366019396063555</id><published>2008-07-08T15:08:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T17:22:43.768+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pentru ca asa e</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Nu stii nimic...&lt;br /&gt;Nu stii nimic din ceea ce te-ar face uman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lacrimile bebelusului abandonat.&lt;br /&gt;Inocenta copiilor fara viitor.&lt;br /&gt;Frica tinerilor fara sanse.&lt;br /&gt;Nefericirea adultilor fara reusite.&lt;br /&gt;Tristetea din ochii batranilor fara amintiri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Durerea singuratatii, frica de esec, iubirea fara raspuns.&lt;br /&gt;Egoismul celui ce a pierdut prea multe, temerile copilului rasfatat atunci cand da piept cu lumea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inmormantarile din zilele senine de vara.&lt;br /&gt;Baltile din zilele in care esti imbracat in alb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drumurile prea scurte si momentele regretate.&lt;br /&gt;Gesturile nefacute si vorbele inghitite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simplitatea lucrurilor dintr-o zi de mai.&lt;br /&gt;Nefericirea zilelor de "ramas-bun",in plina vara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lacrimile ascunse in zambete false, deciziile grele din zilele toride&lt;br /&gt;Mirosul parfumului tau in palmele mele.&lt;br /&gt;Curajul adevarului cand minciunile troneaza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Delicatetea privirilor, atingerilor ...gandurilor&lt;br /&gt;Privelistea satului din turnul bisericii&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nimic din ce e uman nu iti apartine si asta te face minunat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SHN4FlUSzVI/AAAAAAAAASo/zqgB6wiEaKA/s1600-h/DSCF0033.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SHN4FlUSzVI/AAAAAAAAASo/zqgB6wiEaKA/s400/DSCF0033.2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220648430364446034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-3158366019396063555?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/3158366019396063555/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=3158366019396063555' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3158366019396063555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3158366019396063555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/07/pentru-ca-asa-e.html' title='Pentru ca asa e'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SHN4FlUSzVI/AAAAAAAAASo/zqgB6wiEaKA/s72-c/DSCF0033.2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8002570817862317035</id><published>2008-07-04T23:14:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T23:16:28.832+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Zambeste...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZVoQ2MEj5ik&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZVoQ2MEj5ik&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-8002570817862317035?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8002570817862317035/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8002570817862317035' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8002570817862317035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8002570817862317035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/07/zambeste.html' title='Zambeste...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-3843783920876922943</id><published>2008-07-04T01:54:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T01:57:32.999+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Romanţă negativă</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;                                                       Ion Minulescu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;N-a fost nimic din ce-a putut să fie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Şi ce-a putut să fie s-a sfârşit...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;N-a fost decât o scurtă nebunie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ce-a-nsângerat o lamă, lucioasă, de cuţit!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;N-am fost decât doi călători cu trenul,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ce ne-am urcat în tren fără tichete&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Şi fără nici un alt bagaj decât refrenul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Semnalului de-alarmă din perete!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Dar n-am putut călători-mpreună...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Şi fiecare-am coborât în câte-o gară,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ca două veveriţe-nspăimântate de furtună -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Furtuna primei noastre nopţi de primăvară!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Şi-atâta tot!... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Din ce-a putut să fie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;N-a fost decât un searbăd început&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;De simplu "fapt divers", ce nu se ştie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;În care timp şi-n care loc s-a petrecut!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-3843783920876922943?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/3843783920876922943/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=3843783920876922943' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3843783920876922943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3843783920876922943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/07/roman-negativ.html' title='Romanţă negativă'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6213534494609204291</id><published>2008-07-03T06:28:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T06:55:10.148+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheers, Darling!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SGxHkSJYCII/AAAAAAAAASA/ZChlG54CuaE/s1600-h/3982941_0c3f49c9d3.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218624756887586946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SGxHkSJYCII/AAAAAAAAASA/ZChlG54CuaE/s400/3982941_0c3f49c9d3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O sa fie bine imi zic mereu in gand. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O sa treaca .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunt dimineti in care ne simtim minunat si dimineti in care ne simtim goi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Astazi sunt goala.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goala de mine, goala de tine , goala de tot ce a fost vreodata.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunt momente ce ne marcheaza viata, decizii ce ne schimba viitorul.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Am luat si eu pana la varsta asta destule decizii importante.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dar azi cred ca lucrurile s-au schimbat.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A fost o noapte atat de grea in care am decis atat de multe si atat de radical, inca ma simt mai stapana pe propia-mi viata ca niciodata.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vreau sa cred ca cele mai dureroase momente din viata noastra sunt cele care ne schimba cu adevarat modul de a gandi si de a actiona.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Am ajuns sa cred ca scrisul e o terapie, o terapie foarte folositoare, mai ales atunci cand nu stii cum sa refulezi...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In mine s-au asternut dureri insuportabile , nu neaparat la figurat, ba din contra la propriu...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Si uite cum in cateva clipe am mai crescut inca putin.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ce am castigat?..inca o caramida de maturitate, destula responsabilitate, ceva demnitate, multa experienta valoroasa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ce am pierdut?.. am mai pierdut putin din prea dulcea naivitate, am mai pierdut ceva din mine, am mai pierdut ceva din cea care credea in Mos Craciun!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Imi place viata, din ce in ce mai mult.. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Viata cu toate intrigile ei...cu nenorocirile si cu bucuriile ei... cu tot pachetul..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cheers for a new life...cheers for us&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cheers for you darling...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;...just for your, everything just for you.. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;everything.. every step&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;every move...everything&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_9VDJJSZI90&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_9VDJJSZI90&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6213534494609204291?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6213534494609204291/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6213534494609204291' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6213534494609204291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6213534494609204291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/07/cheers-darling.html' title='Cheers, Darling!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SGxHkSJYCII/AAAAAAAAASA/ZChlG54CuaE/s72-c/3982941_0c3f49c9d3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1899699067078410214</id><published>2008-06-18T20:59:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T21:57:47.521+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Scrisoare catre Fat-Frumos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Draga Fat-Frumos..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caut in zadar printre miile de fotografii din albumul amintirilor, acum doar zambete mai vad, uitam prea repede lacrimile ce ne umezesc obrajii...&lt;br /&gt;Au curs multe lacrimi pe raul tipetelor mute.. si astazi stau si astept un fat-frumos inexistent...&lt;br /&gt;Fat-frumos trebuie sa fie curajos, istet.. trebuie sa aiba onoare.. sa iubeasca mai mult decat orice pe lume, sa nu dezamageasca niciodata, sa nu minta...&lt;br /&gt;...si am ajuns sa cred ca nu am nevoie de Fat-frumos.. ca el nu e decat o parte din noi, partea care inca mai stie sa viseze... si ne place sa ne retragem acolo cand ne e mai greu.. si cand iesim ne simtim singuri.. fara sa realizam ca asa am fost mereu...si tot ceea ce parea sa fie un basm a fost o simpla iluzie, ce tinea locul unei povesti frumoase.. ce nu a fost si nu o sa fie niciodata..realitate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asa ca draga Fat-frumos.. nu mai cred in tine, de azi cred in Mos Craciun, macar el imi aduce ceva, imi aduce bomboane.. si bucurie!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cU5dYGPynqE&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cU5dYGPynqE&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-1899699067078410214?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1899699067078410214/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1899699067078410214' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1899699067078410214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1899699067078410214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/06/scrisoare-catre-fat-frumos.html' title='Scrisoare catre Fat-Frumos'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-5141507437017026440</id><published>2008-06-11T12:23:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T12:31:15.673+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Dicteu automat intr-o anume dimineata...</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/folkforever/4db4a0d944070c"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_4db4a0d944070c(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Dinu Olarasu - N-ai nevoie de foarte multe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Minuni...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Sperante...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Vise...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Zambete...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Povesti..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Planuri...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Temeri...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Ochi verzi..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Atingeri...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cuvinte nerostite...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Iluzii...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Gesturi nefacute...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Limite...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Maini...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Rabdare...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Timp...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Curaj..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Regi si Regine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-5141507437017026440?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/5141507437017026440/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=5141507437017026440' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5141507437017026440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5141507437017026440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/06/dicteu-automat-intr-o-anume-dimineata.html' title='Dicteu automat intr-o anume dimineata...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1523621329627733830</id><published>2008-06-10T10:35:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T10:55:36.892+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Zile de vara...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SE4viGvE1RI/AAAAAAAAARw/Mc690R9-iBs/s1600-h/oldsong-Plasticfairyedit2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SE4viGvE1RI/AAAAAAAAARw/Mc690R9-iBs/s400/oldsong-Plasticfairyedit2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210154081884362002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand afara nu e prea cald, sau cand pun in functiune aerul conditionat si atunci mi se pare ca afara nu e prea cald.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Am inceput sa-mi pun ceasul sa sune dimineta, desi sunt in vacanta, ca sa prind racoarea de la ora 10, e tare placuta si in plus asa am impresia ca ziua e mai lunga...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand simti ici-colo miros de tei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand iti iei timp sa stai cateva clipe linistit pe un fotoliu si sa nu faci nimic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand ai vrea sa fi oriunde altundeva decat acolo unde esti, daca esti in oras vrei la mare, daca esti la mare te intorci in oras, apoi vrei sa pleci din tara, vrei sa iesi in weekenduri, vrei sa evadezi... dar intr-o evadare sigura si care sa nu te rupa complet de cei din jur.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand timpul se scurge mai greu, cand te gandesti la ce s-a intamplat peste an si faci bilantul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand mori de dor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand speri ca o sa fie bine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand ai mai multa rabdare ca niciodata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand iti aduci aminte de copilarie, cand esti nostalgic si iti aduci aminte usor usor toate vacantele de vara.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand te gandesti la tine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand el nu e langa tine, dar totusi ti-e bine, caci mai arunci o privire la ceas si stii ca se gandeste la tine si atunci zambesti si stii ca nimic nu poate sa mearga prost ...oricat de prost ar fi tot!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Zile de vara cand la ora 11 zambesc si simt ca o sa fie o zi tare frumoasa, desi ieri mi-am spalat masina si apoi a plouat, desi Romania a facut 0-0 si mai avem 2 meciuri grele, desi el nu o sa fie nici azi langa mine , desi traficul o sa fie mega zapacit..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Cu toate astea sunt zile de vara ce trec.. si mi-e bine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-1523621329627733830?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1523621329627733830/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1523621329627733830' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1523621329627733830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1523621329627733830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/06/zile-de-vara.html' title='Zile de vara...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SE4viGvE1RI/AAAAAAAAARw/Mc690R9-iBs/s72-c/oldsong-Plasticfairyedit2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-3484163373509162580</id><published>2008-06-04T16:41:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T16:55:33.439+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Miroase a vacanta de vara</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SEab3mSmu_I/AAAAAAAAARo/_uAT-sQ1KII/s1600-h/tinker+bell4.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SEab3mSmu_I/AAAAAAAAARo/_uAT-sQ1KII/s400/tinker+bell4.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208021398574250994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Vine vara bine-mi pare...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Sau ma rog..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Cert e ca pentru mine a venit vacanta..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Si daca vacanta inseamna ca nu trebuie sa mai merg la facultate, tin sa va anunt ca pentru mine asta nu e o placere.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Ciudat, dar mie deja imi lipseste locul ala..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Si nu glumesc..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Aparent se anunta o vara plina, o vara cu multe plecari din bucuresti/ tara..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Pentru inceput o sa fug o saptamana la mare, chiar maine, apoi mai vedem ce punem la cale...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Intre timp ma bucur de zilele cu soare, de dupa-amiezile lungi, de serile racoroase, de muzica  buna, de prieteni, de carti si de cam tot ceea ce inseamna ingredient de vacanta!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;As vrea sa pot sa va spun ca totul e perfect, asa cum pare, dar nu spun asta pentru ca nu vreau sa va mint, dar cum am invatat in ultima vreme: totul sta in mainile noastre...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Asadar incerc in fiecare zi sa ma bucur de vacanata si sa fac ca lucrurile sa fie perfecte.. nu stiu cat o sa reusesc, dar cum spunea prietena mea Crinutza : "nu conteaza succesul, cat conteaza procesul" -  ca sa nu fac o impresie proasta voi recunoaste ca asta e o replica pe care am primit-o de la domnul profesor Ion Cojar la clasa, dar Crina a intuit perfect momentul propice pentru a da replica cu pricina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Acestea fiind zise, va urez vacanta placuta, sau sesiune usora, spor la munca sau concediu odihnitor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-3484163373509162580?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/3484163373509162580/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=3484163373509162580' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3484163373509162580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3484163373509162580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/06/miroase-vacanta-de-vara.html' title='Miroase a vacanta de vara'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SEab3mSmu_I/AAAAAAAAARo/_uAT-sQ1KII/s72-c/tinker+bell4.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8261593374831239715</id><published>2008-05-22T20:45:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T20:57:14.700+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cine moare...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SDWyYhEN2HI/AAAAAAAAARA/QSvM_VxWsA8/s1600-h/28012008%28001%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SDWyYhEN2HI/AAAAAAAAARA/QSvM_VxWsA8/s400/28012008%28001%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203261078759135346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;Cine moare&lt;br /&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Pablo Neruda &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Moare cate putin cine se transforma in sclavul obisnuintei, urmand in fiecare zi aceleasi traiectorii;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;cine nu-si schimba existenta;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;cine nu risca sa construiasca ceva nou;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;cine nu vorbeste cu oamenii pe care nu-i cunoaste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Moare cate putin cine evita pasiunea,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;cine prefera negrul pe alb si punctele pe "i" in locul unui vartej de emotii, acele emotii care invata ochii sa straluceasca, oftatul sa surada si care elibereaza sentimentele inimii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Moare cate putin cine nu pleaca atunci cand este nefericit in lucrul sau cine nu risca certul pentru incert pentru a-si indeplini un vis;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;cine nu-si permite macar o data in viata sa nu asculte sfaturile "responsabile".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Moare cate putin cine nu calatoreste;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;cine nu citeste;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;cine nu asculta muzica;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;cine nu cauta harul din el insusi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Moare cate putin cine-si distruge dragostea;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;cine nu se lasa ajutat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Moare cate putin cine-si petrece zilele plangandu-si de mila si detestand ploaia care nu mai inceteaza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Moare cate putin cine abandoneaza un proiect inainte de a-l fi inceput;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;cine nu intreaba de frica sa nu se faca de ras si cine nu raspunde chiar daca cunoaste intrebarea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Evitam moartea cate putin, amintindu-ne intotdeauna ca "a fi viu" cere un&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;efort mult mai mare decat simplul fapt de a respira.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Doar rabdarea cuminte ne va face sa cucerim o fericire splendida. Totul depinde de cum o traim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Daca va fi sa te infierbanti, infierbanta-te la soare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Daca va fi sa inseli, inseala-ti stomacul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Daca va fi sa plangi, plangi de bucurie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Daca va fi sa minti, minte in privinta varstei tale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Daca va fi sa furi, fura o sarutare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Daca va fi sa pierzi, pierde-ti frica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Daca va fi sa simti foame, simte foame de iubire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Daca va fi sa doresti sa fii fericit, doreste-ti in fiecare zi... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-8261593374831239715?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8261593374831239715/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8261593374831239715' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8261593374831239715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8261593374831239715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/05/cine-moare.html' title='Cine moare...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SDWyYhEN2HI/AAAAAAAAARA/QSvM_VxWsA8/s72-c/28012008%28001%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6439321903931616655</id><published>2008-05-20T21:58:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T22:27:59.315+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Expozitie cu vanzare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SDMfvWwsyNI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/CtjR2ihgl28/s1600-h/f_angelskissbm_6e8cc92.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SDMfvWwsyNI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/CtjR2ihgl28/s400/f_angelskissbm_6e8cc92.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202536892967209170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Ne facem zilnic portrete unii altora, portrete fade, insipide, lipsite de o minima originalitate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Am un mod ciudat de a ma apara in fata celor ce ma lovesc.&lt;br /&gt;Nu am invatat in copilarie arta autoapararii asa cum trebuie, eu nu stiu decat sa fug, sa ma ascund in mine si acolo sa raman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;"Eu" este locul meu preferat, acolo stau linistita si ma gandesc la mine, la cei din jurul meu, la tot ce mi se intampla.&lt;br /&gt;Acolo si pictez lumea, pictez oamenii din jurul meu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Am mereu un sevalet pregatit pentru un nou portret.&lt;br /&gt;Numai ca portretele mele sunt speciale, nu stiu sa pictez decat partea frumoasa a oamenilor, nu stiu sa-i pictez decat asa cum imi place sa ii tin minte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Nu prea inteleg de ce lumea trebuie impartita in bun si rau, in alb si negru, in viata si moarte, in ura si dragoste, in minciuna si adevar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Sau na.. inteleg numai ca mi-e frica de rau, de negru, de moarte, de ura, de minciuna.. ironic dar mi-e frica si de bine, de alb, de viata , de dragoste si de adevar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Mi-e frica poate doar de ziua de maine, de ziua de azi.. de ce a fost.. de ce a mai ramas..de ce o sa mai fie..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Mi-e frica de zambete cu inteles, de saruturi fara dorinta, de clipe pierdute sau de oameni raniti..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si ma revolt ca portretele mele nu vorbesc, ma revolt ca oamenii sunt cei ce trebuie sa  fie sinceri... si  oamenii nu au invatat inca lectia sinceritatii...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:78%;" &gt;"LLORANDO POR TU AMOR" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6439321903931616655?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6439321903931616655/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6439321903931616655' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6439321903931616655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6439321903931616655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/05/expozitie-cu-vanzare.html' title='Expozitie cu vanzare'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SDMfvWwsyNI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/CtjR2ihgl28/s72-c/f_angelskissbm_6e8cc92.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-4429584034793322774</id><published>2008-05-18T12:38:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T13:01:55.151+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pentru ca n-am curaj...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SC_6W2wsyMI/AAAAAAAAAQw/flxpUPOS9J4/s1600-h/3-iron-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SC_6W2wsyMI/AAAAAAAAAQw/flxpUPOS9J4/s320/3-iron-4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201651365200054466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/april_dream/e488b0206d4578"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_e488b0206d4578(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;damien rice-9 crimes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Ne lipseste curajul de a fi oameni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Oamenii au sentimente, oamenii spera, oamenii au incredere, oamenii plang, oamenii rad, oamenii au temeri, oamenii iubesc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Ne lipseste curajul de a fi oameni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Ne mintim gratuit imaginandu-ne ca asa e mai bine, mintim cu zambetul pe buze..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Uitam cum e sa iubim fara sa suferim, sa iubim curat si frumos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Uitam sa fim corecti cu cei din jurul nostru...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Uitam cum e sa ne trezim dimineata zambind...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Si platim pentru asta..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Platim cu lacrimi amare, cu lacrimi ce dor..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Platim cu trupul si cu sufletul mai mult decat o facem cu cardurile..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Platim greselile noastre cu trupurile si sufletele altora uneori - si asta e trist..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Uneori imi vine  sa ma duc undeva departe, pe un camp si sa tip..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Sa tip tare, dar sa nu ma auda nimeni, pentru ca oamenii se tem ca ar putea avea slabiciuni...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Adevarul e ca scriu toate adevarurile astea ca sa ma ascund de mine, sa ma ascund de slabiciunile mele, de temerile mele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Mi-e dor ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Da sunt om, deci mi-e dor, mi-e dor de el, mi-e dor de zilele cand desi afara ploua pentu mine era soare...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Si vreau sa fiu om pana la final si sa recunosc ca sper o sa dea un semn,  ca am incredere, ca plang cu toata forta in timp ce tastez nebuniile astea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Dar totusi nu sunt om pentru ca ma mint fara rusine.. si mi-e teama.. mi-e foarte teama!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;..."minciuni ce alunca lin intr-un pahar cu vin"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-4429584034793322774?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/4429584034793322774/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=4429584034793322774' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4429584034793322774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4429584034793322774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/05/pentru-ca-n-am-curaj.html' title='Pentru ca n-am curaj...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SC_6W2wsyMI/AAAAAAAAAQw/flxpUPOS9J4/s72-c/3-iron-4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-3710939967096095307</id><published>2008-05-15T18:29:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T21:19:34.744+03:00</updated><title type='text'>In ultima vreme...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SCxXEGwsyLI/AAAAAAAAAQo/7W0nQjm59oE/s1600-h/SP_A0105.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SCxXEGwsyLI/AAAAAAAAAQo/7W0nQjm59oE/s400/SP_A0105.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200627397752047794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Zile, saptamani, chiar luni...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Nu am mai apucat sa scriu nimic pe aici.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Asta probabil din cauza programului foarte incarcat din ultima perioada..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Ca sa fiu sincera, ma simt foarte ciudat in dupa-amiaza asta, pentru ca sunt acasa si am senzatia ca lipsesc de undeva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Da..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Scoala e pe terminate, cei mai multi inca nu au inceput sesiunea, noi mai avem o sapatamana de scoala si terminam anul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Am credinta ca primul an de facultate o sa se termine cu bine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Alte nouati as avea dar am nevoie de cateva pagini ca sa updatez blogul cu ce schimbari au survenit in viata mea, lucru care mi-ar manca considerabil din orele de somn pe care vreau sa le recuperez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Vreau in schimb sa mentionez cate ceva despre ultima perioada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Dupa ce am participat in cadrul UrbanBlast in Green Hours, cu un monolog scris si regizat de Stefana Popa, o studenta in anul 1 la regie, in care eu am mare incredere si care sunt singura ca o sa ajunga o foarte mare regizoare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;A urmat un proiect extraordinar numit "Scriitori pe calea regala"-  initiat de poetul Dan Mircea Cipariu,  un proiect aflat sub Înaltul Patronaj al Majestăţii Sale Regele Mihai I , lansat de Ministerul Transporturilor si de Uninunea Scriitorilor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Asa cum ii place domnului Cipariu sa spuna, este vorba de  cea mai importantă campanie pro-lectură din ultimii 100 de ani.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Mai exact am strabatut intreaga tara cu trenul regal, in compania a numerosi scriitori de valoare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Am pornit din  Bucureşti spre Iaşi, Suceava, Alba Iulia,Sibiu si Medias unde au fost donate bibleoteci pentru salile de asteptare. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;O idee apreciata atat de oamenii de cultura cat si de oamenii de rand,si aici aveti asigurarea mea, pentru ca rolul meu in acesta calatorie a fost acela de a lua pulsul evenimentelor in fiecare oras in care ne-am oprit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Oamenii au primit cu mult entuziasm si multa incredere vizita scriitorilor contemporani, pe care nu au ezitat sa ii tina cat mai mult in garile lor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Interviurile pe care le-am luat pe toata durata calatoriei vor ramane ca marturie, pentru ca  oamenii din toata tara mi-au spus cat de fericiti sunt ca in sfarsit s-a demarat o campanie de o asemenea anvergura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cred deasemena ca scriitorii romani meritau o asemenea calatorie intr-un cadru regal, pentru ca daca nu cartile, atunci cine sau ce ne poate scoate din monotonia si mizeria ce ne inconjoara zilnic...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Lasand la o parte oboseala acumulata in incercarea de a face ca totul sa iasa bine, consider ca am luat parte la un moment istoric din multe puncte de vedere si ma consider norocasa ca timp de 5 zile am calatorit langa niste personalitati de mare calibru din lumea culturii romanesti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Sunt sigura ca acesta nu este decat inceputul unei noi miscari culturale, pentru ca romanul chiar are nevoie de carti, de cultura in general.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Simt nevoia sa precizez ca in calatoria aceasta am avut parte de momente minunate petrecute langa oameni deosebiti si vreau sa cred ca am legat prietenii valoroase cu oameni superbi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-3710939967096095307?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/3710939967096095307/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=3710939967096095307' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3710939967096095307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3710939967096095307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/05/in-ultima-vreme.html' title='In ultima vreme...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/SCxXEGwsyLI/AAAAAAAAAQo/7W0nQjm59oE/s72-c/SP_A0105.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-4190023913869380100</id><published>2008-03-30T12:48:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T13:01:03.938+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Martie de 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ar fi putut sa treaca o luna de cand nu am mai scris p'aici.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Adevarul e ca o luna a trecut de mult de cand n-am mai scris p'aici, dar nu a trecut luna mea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Final de luna martie...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am trecut si de cei 18 ani pe care i-am carat pana aici, acum am mai adaugat un an in spate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R-9ijz-lt4I/AAAAAAAAAQg/AC0HS1PHT0g/s1600-h/dolls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R-9ijz-lt4I/AAAAAAAAAQg/AC0HS1PHT0g/s400/dolls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183470063514400642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;O luna a schimbarilor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mereu schimb ceva in mine si in jurul meu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Luna asta s-au schimbat multe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;S-au schimbat in mine atat de multe incat parca mi-e greu sa le mai numesc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am invatat sa am rabdare, am invatat, pentru a nu stiu cata oara, ca e bine sa lasi de la tine, ca e bine sa ai incredere in oameni , dar ca ultimul cuvant e bine sa-l ai tu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am invatat ce inseamna curaj, vointa si incredere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am redefinit termenul de aventura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am legat prietenii si am dezlegat mistere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am invatat sa iubesc si sa primesc dragoste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am invatat multe, dar poate cel mai important lucru e ca n-am uitat ca in final sunt doar eu cu mine, pe langa toti cei care sunt zi de zi langa mine si la care tin atat de mult.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Acestea fiind zise, nu am putut sa las sa treaca o luna atat de frumoasa si importanta pentru mine, fara sa scriu niste impresii la prima mana...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cu speranta ca o sa-mi mai tastesz niste ganduri cat de curand...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;PLec ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-4190023913869380100?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/4190023913869380100/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=4190023913869380100' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4190023913869380100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4190023913869380100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/03/martie-de-2009.html' title='Martie de 2008'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R-9ijz-lt4I/AAAAAAAAAQg/AC0HS1PHT0g/s72-c/dolls.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-3144499081498270194</id><published>2008-02-26T23:11:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T23:50:58.794+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Poveste cu zane</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R8SBgQySX7I/AAAAAAAAAQY/VxENhByB8v8/s1600-h/vintage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R8SBgQySX7I/AAAAAAAAAQY/VxENhByB8v8/s400/vintage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171400663389855666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/anaburada/8be8e14f367454"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_8be8e14f367454(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;"Lene Marlin - Story"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Iti caut costumul printre prea multele costume ce se plimba prin fata mea. Si dintre toate, parca al tau straluceste cel mai frumos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Iti caut masca, printre miile de masti ce le vad zilnic si parca doar pe-a ta o recunosc din prima.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu stiu pe nimeni sa aiba costum mai ales ca al tau, iar masca ce-o porti zi de zi, nu stiu daca ar putea ascunde alt chip mai luminos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stiai sa-mi zici povesti cu zane, cu printi si cu printese in exil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si am ajuns sa nu fim altceva decat o poveste, spusa seara de tati, fetitelor cu bucle aurii ce adorm leganate de cantecul cuvintelor ce ne povestesc istoria...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tu.. un bufon cu chip de rege...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu .. spectatorul de pe scari..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tu.. aclamatul si iubitul...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu.. spectatorul ce aplauda la final cu toate fortele, ce iti cauta privirea si iti cere un suras...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Noi .. amandoi.. doi prosti.. tu pentru ca existi.. eu pentru ca te cunosc!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Noapte buna copii&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-3144499081498270194?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/3144499081498270194/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=3144499081498270194' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3144499081498270194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3144499081498270194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/02/poveste-cu-zane.html' title='Poveste cu zane'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R8SBgQySX7I/AAAAAAAAAQY/VxENhByB8v8/s72-c/vintage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8294847630092818941</id><published>2008-02-20T17:59:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T18:15:58.862+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre noaptea trecuta...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Dorm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Mint.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Nu dorm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Incerc sa dorm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;E luna plina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Ba nu, inca nu e plina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Nici ieri noapte nu a fost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Dar si ieri si azi lumineaza foarte puternic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;As putea sa inchid jaluzelele, dar parca imi place lumina asta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;E o lumina puternica, rece, metalica.. si totusi imi inspira caldura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Am timp sa ma gandesc. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Am timp sa ma gandesc, numai ca trebuie sa fiu in picioare la 8 si e deja ora 4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Lumina lunii se reflecta in lacul de pe unghii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Nu mi-e frica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Ma gandesc cu amuzament la faptul ca la ora 4 inca mai am puterea de a filosofa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Ma gandesc cati dintre prietenii mei stau si privesc luna in secunda asta, ma gandesc ca daca aveam apartamentul pe cealalta parte de bloc acum dormeam ca un copil, ma gandesc ca pot foarte usor sa ma intorc cu spatele si nu voi mai vedea luna...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Dar chiar daca ma intorc cu spatele, o sa ma uit pe peretele luminat de luna... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;E straniu si faptul ca atunci cand inchid ochii am impresia ca e prea intuneric si parca am o vaga senzatie de teama in piept.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Imi place lumina lunii, nu e ca cea  degajata de soare. Ziua cand inchizi ochii, te deranjeaza lumina soarelui in continuare, luna in schimb te lasa sa dormi , nu te orbeste, nu te deranjeaza, doar te vegheaza, si daca cumva vrei sa i te alaturi .. te lasa sa alegi..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Imi place luna.. e frumoasa, e trista, e vie, e calda...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Din oracole culeasa: "Tinteste mereu catre luna, chiar daca nu vei ajunge la ea, vei ramane una dintre stele"..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Colectionez senzatii... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Simt cutremure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Creez tornade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Imi dau voie sa fiu.. eu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;Imi astept luna seara de seara...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-8294847630092818941?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8294847630092818941/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8294847630092818941' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8294847630092818941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8294847630092818941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/02/despre-noaptea-trecuta.html' title='Despre noaptea trecuta...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-2436518977140120139</id><published>2008-02-20T00:40:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T00:48:38.600+02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Actorul si supramarioneta"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R7tbBgySX6I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/tA3O2oPQ85Q/s1600-h/10171_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R7tbBgySX6I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/tA3O2oPQ85Q/s400/10171_poster.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168825078876626850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;"Jocul actorului nu constituie o Arta si e o greseala ca se da actorului numele de artist. Caci tot ceea ce e accidental, e contrar Artei.  (...) Actorul va disparea; in locul lui vom vedea un personaj fara viata, care va purta, daca vreti, numele de "Supramarioneta" - pana cand isi va cuceri un nume mai glorios. Aceasta nu va rivaliza cu viata, ci va trece dincolo de ea; ea nu va infatisa corpul in carne si oase, ci corpul in stare de extaz, si in timp ce va raspandi un spirit viu, se va drapa intr-o frumusete de moarte."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;                                                     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;                                                        Gordon Edward Craig - "Actorul si supramarioneta"&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                (1908,The Mask)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-2436518977140120139?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/2436518977140120139/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=2436518977140120139' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2436518977140120139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2436518977140120139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/02/actorul-si-supramarioneta.html' title='&quot;Actorul si supramarioneta&quot;'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R7tbBgySX6I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/tA3O2oPQ85Q/s72-c/10171_poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1653762892540503306</id><published>2008-02-16T00:14:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T00:31:56.260+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fairytale... sau nu!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R7YPuAySX4I/AAAAAAAAAQA/BTh9LlR5Wt0/s1600-h/Picture+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R7YPuAySX4I/AAAAAAAAAQA/BTh9LlR5Wt0/s320/Picture+020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167334905613541250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/b09d4n/d73b45c59ff059"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_d73b45c59ff059(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;"Cake - Pretty pink ribbon"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Ca intr-o poveste, fara cal si fara rochie din aia lunga si fara zane in jurul meu si fara bagheta fermecata.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Ca intr-un film american, fara avion si fara Prada pe mine si fara un apus de soare perfect...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Asa cum niciodata intr-o viata de om nu ti se inatampla...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Asa cum numai in povesti citesti si numai in filme vezi..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Exact asa imi doresc sa mi se intample si mie..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Sa-i spun printului ca am gresit si ca am fost doi prosti amandoi si ca nu merita sa stam departe unul de altul atat timp cat nu facem decat sa pierdem timp pretios dintr-o viata prea scurta, iar el sa-mi zambeasca cu o dantura perfecta si o freza de milioane si sa-mi zica cum ca si el simte acelasi lucru si ca a fost un prost cand a lasat totul balta! Si asa s-o o luam de la capat...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Dar cum viata nu e nici poveste , nici film..Eu nu ii voi spune niciodata asta..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Renunt la ideea ca voi putea vreodata sa scriu un scenariu macar interesant, daca nu de succes..si ii las pe altii sa-mi scrie rolul..vietii...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-1653762892540503306?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1653762892540503306/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1653762892540503306' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1653762892540503306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1653762892540503306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/02/fairytale-sau-nu.html' title='Fairytale... sau nu!!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R7YPuAySX4I/AAAAAAAAAQA/BTh9LlR5Wt0/s72-c/Picture+020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6727615611660628544</id><published>2008-02-15T23:37:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T00:12:37.413+02:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a jungle out there!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/CeDe/0c927d0372c265"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_0c927d0372c265(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Colorez lumea in fiecare zi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Colorez lumea in fiecare zi ca sa pot sa supravietuiesc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Colorez lumea in fiecare zi ca sa pot sa supravietuiesc intr-o lume in care fara acuarela mea toti oamenii ar semana cu niste fantome... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Timpul cam trece pe langa noi si suntem putini cei care realizeaza asta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Sunt ca un copil mic ce a pornit in viata cu o mie de curiozitati si nu stie pe care dintre ele sa o rezolve prima.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Adevarul e putin altul, adevarul e ca sunt furioasa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Sunt furioasa pentru ca zilnic trebuie sa ne ascundem fetele in spatele unor masti prafuite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Ne ascundem printre fond de ten si masini, telefoane si e-mailuri, lcd-uri si uneori carti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Si nu ne ascundem de cineva anume, ne ascundem de propriile persoane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Suntem frustrati si spun asta pentru ca nu vad in jurul meu decat oamenii care se chinuie zi de zi sa castige din ce in ce mai multi bani, fara sa se opreasca pentru o secunda si sa se gandeasca pentru ce  fac asta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Afara e o jungla, unde ne batem pentru un loc de parcare, unde ne desumflam rotile de la masina ca sa ne varsam furia pe ala care ne-a luat locul de parcare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Afara e o jungla unde nu mai exista roluri stabilite, toti suntem pradatori si vitctime in acelasi timp, pe duarata a 24 de ore..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Mi-e frica sa mai ies din casa, mi-e frica sa-mi mai parchez masina oriunde, mi-e frica sa scot capul pe geam dupa ora 23, mi-e frica sa mai deschid televizorul, mi-e frica sa ma mai duc la scoala, mi-e frica sa mai fac cunostinta ca cineva, mi-e frica sa-mi mai dau numarul de telefon..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;De asta imi colorez lumea.. si ies din casa zambind, imi parchez masina unde apuc asumandu-mi riscul de a o gasi cu rotile desumflate, scot capul pe geam dupa 23 ca sa mai respir ceva aer curat, deschid televizorul pe jetix si ma uit la "cei cu andy" in timp de la aceeasi ora pe pro sunt stirile alea cu crime, cunosc oamenii noi carora le dau numarul meu de telefon chiar daca nu mi-l cer, pentru orice eventualitate..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;In mare imi asum riscuri la orice pas, dar imi depsesc totusi frici pe care mai nou societatea ni le impune..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Dar chiar daca afara e o mare jungla, macar hai s-o coloram frumos, sa iasa mai ceva ca desenele animate cu Moogli si Baloo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6727615611660628544?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6727615611660628544/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6727615611660628544' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6727615611660628544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6727615611660628544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-jungle-out-there.html' title='It&apos;s a jungle out there!!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-5263312391877422258</id><published>2008-02-05T22:47:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T23:12:59.701+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cele mai frumoase clipe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R6jOB0BLAXI/AAAAAAAAAP4/pemqf_fFe24/s1600-h/kiss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R6jOB0BLAXI/AAAAAAAAAP4/pemqf_fFe24/s400/kiss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163603503319023986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Sunt sigura ca toti ati trecut prin asta..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;E atunci cand ... trebuie sa pleci.. si il mai saruti putin.. si parca fiecare sarut urla disperat pentru inca unul.. si tot asa..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Atunci cand stai in pragul usii si mai lungesti putin clipa..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Atunci cand stii ca maine il vei revedea, dar pana maine ai senzatia ca mai e o viata..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Atunci cand nu ai curajul sa faci ceea ce simti.. cand vrei sa fugi si sa ajungi la el.. si sa-i spui tot ceea ce nu ai avea niciodata curajul sa ii spui.. sa ii spui totul fara sa te gandesti la consecinte.. fara sa te gandesti ca totul nu e decat un vis.. si ca orice vis are prostul obicei sa aiba si un final..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Atunci cand iti suna telefonul, anuntandu-te ca ai primit un mesaj - parca inima-ti bate mai tare si parca te rogi sa fie de la el... de cele mai multe ori nu e de la el.. dar atunci cand se nimereste sa fie de la el.. parca intreaga lume ti se coloeaza.. si fugi intr-un loc cu multa liniste de unde ii raspunzi la mesaj.. cu toate ca realizezi ca niciodata nu o sa afle ca in spatele acestor cuvinte, stau ganduri mult mai mari...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Cele mai frumoase clipe, cred ca sunt cele pe care din pacate nu le traim.. de frica sa nu stricam momentul... moment care nici nu exista pentru ca suntem prea lasi sa-i dam voie sa existe..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Nu ne ramane decat sa asteptam mesaje, sa prelungim clipe, sa furam saruturi si sa fugim din cand in cand...acolo unde nimeni nu ne poate fura sperantele si visul...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-5263312391877422258?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/5263312391877422258/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=5263312391877422258' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5263312391877422258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5263312391877422258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/02/cele-mai-frumoase-clipe.html' title='Cele mai frumoase clipe...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R6jOB0BLAXI/AAAAAAAAAP4/pemqf_fFe24/s72-c/kiss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-2328693446838912710</id><published>2008-01-31T22:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T23:16:44.211+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Nimicuri de ianuarie</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/Leandru/2ee2e9037dbb30"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_2ee2e9037dbb30(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;"De ce nimicuri ii e dat fericirii sa atarne.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R6I3kkBLATI/AAAAAAAAAPc/th1m71GrgfI/s1600-h/21012008%28001%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R6I3kkBLATI/AAAAAAAAAPc/th1m71GrgfI/s400/21012008%28001%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161749224203419954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Zambiti va rog...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Zambiti larg.. aparatul va zambeste si el..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Incerc sa-mi gasesc cuvintele pentru a scrie ceva inteligent, dar cum m-am obisnuit, nimic inteligent nu poate sa debiteze creierul meu acum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am senzatia ca sunt pusa pe pilot automat, toate gesturile, toate vorbele, dar mai ales toate actiunile mele sunt dictate de catre acest pilot automat, care nu simte - doar actioneaza...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si e atat de groaznic sa nu simti nimic, doar sa actionezi, ca sa intelegeti mai bine , e ca atunci cand esti atat de racit incat nu mai ai miros, motiv pentru care nu simti nici gustul mancarii, dar mananci din inertie...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Partea nasoala intervine cand aceasta stare de raceala groaznica, vrei nu vrei, coincide cu ziua de Craicun, cand pe masa sunt toate felurile preferate de mancare.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cam asa e perioada asta a mea... respir din inertie.. si realizez ca in jurul meu sunt numai lucruri minunate si oameni superbi de care nu ma pot bucura..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nici eu nu stiu exact de ce zambesc cu juma' de gura, de ce nu merg decat acolo unde trebuie neaparat sa merg, de ce nu socialiez, de ce nu ma implic.. sunt atat de multe de ce -uri pe care nu le fac.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Traiesc pentru ziua de maine si in fiecare zi ma conving ca asta e ziua cea mare..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dar nu ma plang... poate ca ii zice astenie de primvarara prematura.. sau poate ca mi-am consumat bateriile pe prostioare..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cert e ca maine intram in luna februarie.. si Doamne ce luna frumoasa o sa fie... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu stiu daca ma crede cineva, dar n-am nici cea mai mica idee de ce am scris chestia asta, nu am nimic important planificat pentru februarie.. dar daca totusi cineva acolo sus face planurile pentru luna februarie.. sper sa ne dea niste zile cu soare..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-2328693446838912710?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/2328693446838912710/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=2328693446838912710' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2328693446838912710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2328693446838912710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/show2ee2e9037dbb30448-46-de-ce-nimicuri.html' title='Nimicuri de ianuarie'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R6I3kkBLATI/AAAAAAAAAPc/th1m71GrgfI/s72-c/21012008%28001%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-196607591207385434</id><published>2008-01-28T00:14:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T00:46:57.694+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Putina liniste va rog!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R50CwEBLASI/AAAAAAAAAPU/Y2Om-4piytI/s1600-h/kiss-me-1357.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R50CwEBLASI/AAAAAAAAAPU/Y2Om-4piytI/s400/kiss-me-1357.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160283772772090146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/maria7729/ffff97a04bf6bc"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_ffff97a04bf6bc(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                  &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;                                                                                "Laura Stoica - Ea nu stie ce vrea"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acum mai mult ca nicioadata am senzatia ca vreau sa fiu in alta parte decat in camera mea pe care o iubesc atat de mult.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Pana azi am avut senzatia ca asta e locul unde ma pot ascunde cel mai bine de lume, singura fereastra catre realitate e calculatorul.. dar si cu el pot transforma totul intr-o fictiune.. dar macar imi rezerv dreptul de a intrerupe totul oricand vreau.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Ei bine, acum as vrea sa fiu in alta parte... intr-un loc unde sa imi fie putin frig, unde sa fie multa liniste, fara muzica, fara masini.. undeva unde sa am un sac de dormit, niste dulciuri si un suc de rodii.... as vrea sa fiu acolo cu cea mai buna prietena a mea, sa stam intinse si sa privim cerul si cerul sa fie plin, plin de stele, asa cum nu l-am mai vazut decat la mare...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Si acolo as vrea sa ii zic tot, sa o zapacesc de cap, asa cum fac mereu cand avem timp sa vorbim, si ea sa ma sfatuiasca.. si eu sa vorbesc despre tot... si la un moment dat cand mi se termina bateriile sa inceapa ea sa imi zica ce are pe suflet si asa cum se intampla mereu, eu brusc sa ma simt proasta, pentru ca mereu inteleg, ba chiar ma regasesc in ceea ce zice ea, dar niciodata nu pot sa ii dau un sfat care sa-i fie de ajutor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Dar ne-ar ramane la finalul orelor de vorbaraie, cerul.. si stelele.. si frigul din oase.. si ceva duciuri.. si la un moment dat am ramane fara suc, ala ar fi momentul cand realitatea ne-ar aduce la viata, asadar cel mai probabil ne-am urca in masina si ne-am introarce in bucuresti... uitand si de sete.. dar cu un sentiment de bucurie in suflet...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Dar cum prietena cea mai buna doarme, afara stele nu se zaresc nici cu telescopul, frigul nu glumeste si ar ingheta acum orice suc de rodii...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Ma multumesc cu ideea ca oricand pot sa deschid geamul sa fac ceva racaoare in camera, sa ma bag sub plapuma, sa inchid lumina si sa ma uit la stelutele fosforescente pe care le am lipite peste tot si sa ma multumesc cu sucul de rosii din frigider, ca pe ala de rodii l-am terminat dimineata....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Evadati .. chiar si cu gandul.. din lumea asta anosta, luati cu voi cele mai dragi persoane, sau fugiti singuri... nu mai asteptati mesaje ce nu se lasa trimise.. telefoane ce nu se lasa date.. sau oameni ce se lasa asteptati!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-196607591207385434?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/196607591207385434/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=196607591207385434' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/196607591207385434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/196607591207385434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/showffff97a04bf6bc448-46.html' title='Putina liniste va rog!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R50CwEBLASI/AAAAAAAAAPU/Y2Om-4piytI/s72-c/kiss-me-1357.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6507186500305662863</id><published>2008-01-27T20:11:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T21:09:00.349+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Zapda murdara...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R5zQBkBLARI/AAAAAAAAAPM/mo-3IQ5p4T0/s1600-h/0040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R5zQBkBLARI/AAAAAAAAAPM/mo-3IQ5p4T0/s400/0040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160227998326784274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;La naiba...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Zapada chiar se murdareste..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si e atat de urat cand zapada se murdareste.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mergi pe strada si vezi .. zapada murdara...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si de ce pana la urma toate lucrurile frumoase se murdaresc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ma gandeam la lucruri frumoase, dar nu neaparat vesele..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ridurile de pe fetele barbatilor.. mi se par frumoase...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu stiu de ce o fata de barbat plina de riduri pare mai frumoasa decat una de femeie.. nu stiu, atunci cand vad un barbat cu riduri pe fata, am impresia ca ridurile il fac mai bland, mai uman...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Imi place sentimentul ce ma cuprinde atunci cand vad un copil intr-o masina, nu stiu de ce dar am tendinta sa protejez masina respectiva, sa-i dau prioritate sau chiar sa il iert pe sofer daca face tampenii.. e atat de frumos sentimentul asta..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mai e frumos sentimentul ce ma cuprinde cand imi iau masina din spalatorie.. cand ma urc in ea si totul straluceste si miroase frumos, dar asta e un sentiment pe care il traiesc rar in ultima vreme :)))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mai e frumos atunci cand primesti un mesaj pe care ai vrea din tot sufletul sa-l primesti , dar la care nici n-ai curajul sa speri..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;E atat de frumos cand auzi o voce la telefon... o voce care ai uitat cum suna.. si o voce pe care erai obisnuit s-o auzi zilnic...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Imi place tare mult.. cand ma impac cu oamenii... da.. atunci cand devin sincera rau.. si zic tot.. si apoi rad de prostiile prin care a trebuit sa trecem ca sa ajungem la impacare.. si apoi fiecare se poarta rezervat.. ca dupa o operatie cand te misti incet incet..dar trece repede.. si totul revine in scurt timp la normal.. de parca nici nu a trecut furtuna p'acolo..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dar totusi... nu-mi place zapada murdara, nu-mi plac femeile cu riduri, nu-mi plac nesimtitii din trafic, nu imi place sa am  masina murdara, nu-mi place sa nu primesc mesaje zilnic, nu-mi place sa uit voci pe care le iubesc, nu imi place sa ma cert cu oamenii..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Din ce material e facuta viata?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Din zapada??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6507186500305662863?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6507186500305662863/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6507186500305662863' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6507186500305662863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6507186500305662863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/zapda-murdara.html' title='Zapda murdara...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R5zQBkBLARI/AAAAAAAAAPM/mo-3IQ5p4T0/s72-c/0040.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-3113093792033695690</id><published>2008-01-24T14:35:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T14:46:09.050+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Inca o hotarare mareata...(??)!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R5iGRkBLAQI/AAAAAAAAAPE/ECPRAruv3Q8/s1600-h/anorexia-nervosa.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R5iGRkBLAQI/AAAAAAAAAPE/ECPRAruv3Q8/s320/anorexia-nervosa.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159021009437393154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Cer cateodata de la mine putin mai mult decat pot da...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Si mereu stiu ca pot da de vreo 100 de ori mai mult decat cer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Uneori stau si ma gandesc daca nu sunt putin cam norocoasa... e penibil sa reiau discutiile despre oamenii care n-au nimic pe lumea asta.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Dar am senzatia ca am atatea si ca cer prea multe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;De azi m-am hotarat sa nu mai cer nimic sa lupt pentru tot ceea ce vreau sa am..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Si multe vreau sa am...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Nu stiu de unde sa pornesc, dar nestiind de unde sa pornesc nu ma opreste nimic sa pornesc..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Asa ca de azi imi voi face eu norocul.. si toate povestile de dragoste despre care v-am scris, si toate suferintele sau bucuriile care imi dominau pana azi viata... s-au dus... ca o particula de praf in bataia vantului..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Azi sunt singura, pe drumul meu.. asa cum am fost mereu, dar probabil nu am observat..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Pot doar in drumul meu sa imi reglez pasii cu ai altcuiva.. dar nu cred ca o sa se intample prea curand, pentru ca nu mai sunt dispusa sa las de la mine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Am ajuns la vorba cuiva drag mie.. care imi zicea ca uneori cariera e mai presus de orice.. si azi pentru mine aceasta vorba a ajuns litera de lege... ma gandesc ca am facut un pact cu mine, nu vreau sa ma mai las disturbata de unu' sau altu'...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Stiu bine, la fel ca voi toti, ca una zic azi si alta fac maine.. dar asa faceti toti, asa ca nu are rost sa aruncati cu pietre in mine.. tot ce putem face e sa asteptam ziua de maine sa vedem daca se aplica rationamentul..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Pana maine.. sau ma rog pana la urmatoarea veste demna de afisat la "avizierul" vietii .. va las cu bine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-3113093792033695690?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/3113093792033695690/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=3113093792033695690' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3113093792033695690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3113093792033695690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/inca-o-hotarare-mareata.html' title='Inca o hotarare mareata...(??)!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R5iGRkBLAQI/AAAAAAAAAPE/ECPRAruv3Q8/s72-c/anorexia-nervosa.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-224598631985444102</id><published>2008-01-21T01:04:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T01:37:33.333+02:00</updated><title type='text'>matruator de  praf de stele...</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/medeea/5ecf10b5ea84de"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_5ecf10b5ea84de(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Gheorghe Dinica- Vagabondul vietii mele"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R5PUBLC2xBI/AAAAAAAAAO8/-grkU5p37nM/s1600-h/1172423075_102937kcl6gmprba1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R5PUBLC2xBI/AAAAAAAAAO8/-grkU5p37nM/s400/1172423075_102937kcl6gmprba1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157699114879075346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Da-mi de ales...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Si te voi alege pe tine..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Vorbe.. am senzatia ca m-am cam ratacit in viata mea..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Inainte sa scriu aceste cuvinte si chiar si acum in timp ce le scriu ascult melodia de mai sus...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Acum cand ma pregatesc sa pun capul pe perna, stau si eu si ma gandesc daca am luat totul de la viata astazi... daca am luat tot ceea ce mi s-a dat... si realizez ca nu numai ca nu am luat nimic de la viata dar nici nu am dat ceva.. mi-am pierdut azi timpul ratacind in cuvinte si fapte lipsite de sens sau de scop..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lumea mea roz despre care scriam cu putin timp in urma, a devenit o lume fada, nici gri - nici alta culoare.. dar rozul azi e mai pal ca niciodata..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cred ca trebuie sa nu mai fim atat de egoisti.. sa ne trezim dimineata si sa multumim ca ne trezim.. ca mai avem o sansa sa luam in fiecare zi totul de la capat..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Ce lume ideala ar fi aia in care fiecare om ar fi multumit ca i s-a mai oferit o sansa sa deschida ochii... in loc de multumire eu imi  indrept catre divinitate toate reprosurile si nemultumirile.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu e drept sa vorbesc despre minuni si curaj.. cand eu nu stiu sa privesc asa cum se cuvine o minune si nici nu am curajul sa imi las inima sa decida pentru mine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Eu mereu aleg sa fac ceea ce e corect mai presus de ceea ce simt ca trebuie sa fac, mereu fac ceea ce cred ca e mai bine pentru viitorul meu decat ceea ce imi bucura sufletul pe moment..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Mai nou am avut curajul sa ma mint ca zbor atunci cand picam cu cea mai mare viteza din lume.. am avut curajul sa-mi ascund privirea de privirea celui de la care asteptam cel mai mult o privire.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu sunt demna de toate cuvintele pe care le-am scris in ultimele zile..nu sunt demna de ele, pentru ca eu insumi nu le respect.. si vin la mine oameni care imi spun ca prin ceea ce scriu le schimb vietile.. bun si pe a mea cine o sa reusesca sa o mai schimbe??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu cred ca e vorba de schimbare pana la urma.. e vorba doar de rabdare.. si daca o sa reusesc sa am destula rabdare.. o sa se termine si furtuna asta ca toate cele ce au mai fost pana acum..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una peste alta... am inceput sa scriu fiind nervoasa si plina de ganduri .. si termin pe o stare de liniste si intr-un calm benefic zic eu..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Incepe o noua saptamana.. ce se preconizeaza a fi una mult mai linistita decat toate cele ce au fost pana acum.. si asta e bine caci de liniste si calm am nevoie cel mai mult..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;..."numai cu viata de actor eu nicioadata n-am glumit"&lt;/span&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/36707873-224598631985444102?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/224598631985444102/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=224598631985444102' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/224598631985444102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/224598631985444102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/azi-despre-rabdare.html' title='matruator de  praf de stele...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R5PUBLC2xBI/AAAAAAAAAO8/-grkU5p37nM/s72-c/1172423075_102937kcl6gmprba1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-7313136214385790489</id><published>2008-01-20T12:12:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T12:40:50.828+02:00</updated><title type='text'>minuni.. si blesteme</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Sunt minuni ce apar in viata noastra in momente in care le luam ca belsteme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Sunt blesteme ce apar in viata noastra si nici nu realizam cat de tare ne lovesc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Sunt persoane ce apar ca o minune in viata noastra si ne blestemam apoi fiecare secunda petrecut impreuna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Sunt oameni ce vin cu blesteme in viteile noastre si pleca considerandu-ne minunea lor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Oameni, minuni, blesteme, secunde, momente.. e vorba doar de un singur lucru .. curajul de a merge inainte cu toate blestemele ce se arunca pe drumul nostru, folosindu-ne de toate minunile pentru care nu trebuie decat sa intindem mana si sa le luam..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Ce conteaza daca astazi ma simt blestemata.. ce conteaza daca el a acceptat sa plece din viata mea chiar daca stia ca se putea mai mult.. ce conteaza daca nu stiu pe ce drum sa o apuc, ce conteaza daca nu stiu sa fac diferenta dintre un blestem si o minune...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Imi ramane curajul de a merge inainte...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;..cu zambetul pe buze macar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-7313136214385790489?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/7313136214385790489/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=7313136214385790489' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7313136214385790489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7313136214385790489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/minuni-si-blesteme.html' title='minuni.. si blesteme'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-7884289418807399527</id><published>2008-01-18T03:58:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T04:10:02.192+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Te urasc &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Pentru toate vorbele nerostite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Pentru privirile irosite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Pentru noptile nedormite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Pentru soaptele zapacite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Pentru atingerile nereusite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Pentru secretele dorite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Pentru zambetele aiurite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Te urasc pentru ca nu mi-a mai ramas decat sa te iubesc..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Pentru ca mi-ai dat sansa sa iubesc pe altcineva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Sa privesc pe altcineva &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Sa-i soptesc despre dragostea mea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Sa-l ating si sa-l mint&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Caci secretele inca mai dor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Si zambetele tot mai mor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Pe fetele gri si triste ce inca mai vor sa-si sopteasca cuvinte de amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Si zi de zi te iubesc pentru ca m-ai invatat cat de frumos e sa te urasc..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Si-ti multumesc pentru ca stii ca daca ar fi iubirea ta &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Nu as putea sa-ti spun toate astea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Si-ti multumesc ca ma urasti &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Caci am invatat sa iubesc pe altcineva hranindu-ma mult din dragostea ta!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-7884289418807399527?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/7884289418807399527/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=7884289418807399527' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7884289418807399527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7884289418807399527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/amor.html' title='Amor'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-3108325693592874632</id><published>2008-01-17T10:37:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T12:01:14.059+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Zambete</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R48jF7C2w_I/AAAAAAAAAOs/-RSnG5KDxD8/s1600-h/SANY0149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R48jF7C2w_I/AAAAAAAAAOs/-RSnG5KDxD8/s320/SANY0149.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156378683018494962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Fericirea vine in sticlute mici, mici, mici..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Si tot ce trebuie noi sa facem e sa avem grija cat de repede bem sticulutele alea, pentru ca mereu exista perioade cand ramanem fara rezerve..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Mereu cand sunt fericita, vad in jurul meu numai oameni fericiti, am impresia ca vine cineva in lumea mea si arunca cu o galeata plina de vopsea roz, pe tot ceea ce ma inconjoara...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Si atunci imi zambesc ochii si imi vine sa iau o sticla mare, mare, mare unde sa pot sa bag toata fericirea asta pe care o simt in suflet si oricand ma simt descumpanita sa mai beau putin din ea..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Nu cred ca am un motiv special pentru care simt ca mi-au crescut aripi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Afara e noroi, frig, oamenii se imbraca in geci negre si trec pe rosu, la scoala toata lumea e stresata de examene, toti cei din jurul meu barfesc si comenteaza la tot pasul... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Dar e minunat ca intr-o lume atat de trsita si gri sa poti sa arunci cu vopsea roz in jurul tau, si brusc noroiul se transforma in zapada topita, frigul imi da motive sa port mai multe hainute cu mine si sa fac parada modei, gecile negre alea oamenilor de pe strada se transforma in niste perne pe doua picioare, cei ce trec pe rosu sigur fac asta pentru ca se grabesc sa ajunga la cineva iubit , la scoala lumea nu e stresata de examene ci e entuziasmata ca mai avem doar doua, cei din jurul meu nu barfesc ci isi satisfac curiozitatile si acumuleaza informatii noi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Uite cat de usor e sa arunci cu roz in jur..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Asta e unul din posturile alea pe care o sa le citesc peste ceva timp cand o sa mi se termine "vopseaua"..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Pana atunci zambiti - pentru mine sunteti toti atat de roz :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-3108325693592874632?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/3108325693592874632/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=3108325693592874632' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3108325693592874632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3108325693592874632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/zambete.html' title='Zambete'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R48jF7C2w_I/AAAAAAAAAOs/-RSnG5KDxD8/s72-c/SANY0149.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6894147474817075508</id><published>2008-01-14T02:20:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T02:45:01.456+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Argh...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R4qrLLC2w-I/AAAAAAAAAOk/9pI_VJjjUo8/s1600-h/paris_je_taime_c_ascot-elite.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R4qrLLC2w-I/AAAAAAAAAOk/9pI_VJjjUo8/s320/paris_je_taime_c_ascot-elite.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155120931910632418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;De cate ori n-am mai spus asta: iubim sa fim iubiti..&lt;br /&gt;Dar ce se inatmpla cand ajungi sa nu-ti mai doresti sa iubesti sau sa fi iubit.. nu pentru toata viata, macar pentru o perioada..&lt;br /&gt;Ce se inatampla atunci cand cunosti pe cineva si iti petreci timpul gandindu-te ca nu are cum sa mearga prost..&lt;br /&gt;Ce se inatmpla cand trecutul iti da peste nas si iti aduci aminte de o seara cand iti zicea la ureche ca daca pleci o sa regreti..&lt;br /&gt;Am plecat.. si acum regret, partea frumoasa e ca nu regret ca am plecat, regret ca s-a inamplat..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R4qq_bC2w9I/AAAAAAAAAOc/k8R8l9F55Ag/s1600-h/pBUUSyf9rD6n.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Exista citatul ala idiot " nu regreta nimic ce te-a facut candva sa zambesti".. si ce te faci cand rememorezi totul si realizezi ca nu te-a facut nicioadata sa zambesti.. ca niciodata nu ai fost cu adevarat fericit.. si totul nu era decat o iluzie..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Si pana la urma ce se inatmpla cand te trezesti la realitate si incerci sa mergi inainte, dar el a avut drepate cand iti soptea ca daca pleci o sa regreti.. si acum esti judecat prin faptele lui, nu ale tale, si nu-ti mai ramane nimic de facut decat sa te asezi undeva si sa privesti cum trece trenu pe langa tine si tu nu poti sa faci nimic, nici macar sa te arunci in fata lui...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Si trenul trece.. si eu stau si ma uit.. pentru ca e tot ce mai pot sa fac.. sa alerg acum si sa dau timpul inapoi nu pot si nici nu vreau, pentru ca am incercat sa ma educ sa nu regret niciun gest pe care il fac, asa ca mai bine invat cate ceva din greselile mele, dar se pare ca lectia asta e cam grea..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Vorbesc mereu de sanse, asta pentru ca mereu dau sanse oamenilor, e adevarat ca uneori am dat sanse unor persoane care meritau sansele respective si care au folosit sansele ajungand sa-mi fie apropiati, dar recunosc ca m-am si fript si am dat sanse unor persoane care au crezut ca daca primesc o sansa primesc totul de la mine, dar au aflat pe pielea lor ca sansa nu e decat o incercare nu e un credit raportabil...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Vorbesc de sanse, dar cand se inatampla sa fiu nevoita sa mai cer o sansa, nu imi gasesc cuvintele si imi bag capul in pamant in speranta ca mi se va da sansa aia, asa cum dau eu sansele - fara sa astept sa mi se ceara..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Gresec in fiecare zi, la fiecare pas.. si din fiecare pas mai invat ceva, invat sa fac sa mearga lucrurile ... si daca se inatmpla sa pierd, invat si din asta desi doare mai tare asa..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Nu vreau sa pierd de data asta si un singur semn ar fi suficient ca eu sa ma apuc sa lupt... dar cum semnul intarzie sa apara, atunci eu ma retrag asa cum stiu cel mai bine sa o fac, in liniste si cu zambetul pe buze... pregatita sa o iau de la capat...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6894147474817075508?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6894147474817075508/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6894147474817075508' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6894147474817075508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6894147474817075508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/argh.html' title='Argh...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R4qrLLC2w-I/AAAAAAAAAOk/9pI_VJjjUo8/s72-c/paris_je_taime_c_ascot-elite.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-663438619632930641</id><published>2008-01-12T05:18:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T13:22:22.424+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Curaj...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R4gx-rC2w8I/AAAAAAAAAOU/IS7NuPH9yUw/s1600-h/img02.13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R4gx-rC2w8I/AAAAAAAAAOU/IS7NuPH9yUw/s320/img02.13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154424726301885378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;De ce curaj?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pentru ca e nevoie de mult curaj ca sa iti expui parerea despre o piesa de teatru, mai ales atunci cand iti e destul de greu sa fi obiectiv in totalitate..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dar am fost rugata sa o fac, asa ca hai sa vedem ce iese..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mi-am dorit sa intru la atf si asta stie toata lumea, numai ca stii cum e vorba aia  : "ai grija ce-ti doreti ca Dumnezeu iti da"..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eh, Slava Domnului, Dumnezeu mi-a dat si acum incep sa ma trezesc.. si desi sunt bagata in painea asta de pe la vreo 6 luni... acum realizez cat de greu e...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Totul a pornit de la o piesa pusa in scena la Teatru Mic de colegii mei mai mari de anul IV.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Descoperi cu timpul cat de grea e meseria pe care ti-ai ales-o si stai sa te gandesti cum poti sa o faci placuta si usoara.. normal ca daca ar fi usoara nu ar prea mai avea niciun farmec, dar macar placuta sa fie.. pana acum imi place ceea ce fac, dar acum cand mi-am vazut colegii mai mari acolo sus pe scena, am realizat cat de mult trebuie sa muncesc pentru ca atunci cand o sa fiu si eu acolo sa pot face fata...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Asadar, ca si filmele sunt piese usor digerabile si piese greu digerabile; si digestia nu se face mai greu sau mai usor din cauza gusului ci din cauza consistentei... si ca sa fiu sincera depinde putin si de diabolsimul fiecaruia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sunt mai mult decat sigura ca exemplul de mai sus a produs o ceata foarte deasa in creierul cititorului...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Voi incerca sa fiu ceva mai explicita... asadar, exista piese la care te duci si razi sau plangi in hohote, dupa care mai vorbesti pana acasa de anumite faze si pui capul pe perna si dimineata ai uitat tot; daaar.. exista si piese la care nu schitezi nici un gest nici la poante si nici la momentele cu o greutate aparte, dar ajungi acasa si stai si te gandesti fara sa vrei la ce naiba vroiau sa zica oamenii aia si intr-un final da Domnu' si adormi.. dar te trezesti dimineata si cand te speli pe dinti iti aduci brusc aminte de o scena anume, si intrebarile nu intarzie sa apara... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu sunt in masura sa comentez , dar asa cum ma stiti nu ma pot abtine, eu una consider ca cele doua tipuri de piese sunt destinate unor tipuri total diferite de spectatori, si  nu stiu de ce dar tind sa cred ca uneori si spectatorul face spectacolul .. sunt sigura ca gandirea mea poate fi total eronata pentru ca eu chiar sunt la inceputul inceputului acestui drum... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dar din punctul meu de vedere "Desteptarea primaverii" este genul de spectacol dupa care te mai gandesti putin la ceea ce s-a intamplat pe scena... si asta pentru un student de anul IV la regie consider ca e un mare plus; sa reusesti sa faci sa dai de gandit..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Decorurile au fost extraordinare, si trebuie sa mentionez asta pentru ca eu una am fost uimita de aceasta latura a piesei pentru ca imi place sa vad lucruri care imi demonstreaza ca... se poate!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Despre regie am vorbit, despre scenografie am vorbit... normal urmeaza sa vorbesc despre ei.. actorii.. imi este imposibil, pentru ca nu am curajul sa o fac.. faptul ca mi s-a transmis ceva, zice multe, faptul ca am stat sa ma gandesc serios si mi s-a facut teama de faptul ca peste ceva timp eu voi fi in ipostaza in care se aflau ei... spune deasemenea multe...si poate ca si faptul ca au existat momente cand am uitat ca vizionez un spectacol pus de niste studenti spune multe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Repet, nu am niciun drept sa comentez ceea ce am vazut in niciun fel, cu atat mai mult cu cat nu am cum sa fiu obiectiva, dar vreau sa cred ca am doza de luciditate necesara pentru a va spune ca merita vazut.. merita data o sansa.. merita decodificat... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu stiu cand se va mai juca, stiu doar ca merita vazut pentru ca e datoria voastra sa acordati sanse si e datoria voastra sa va oferiti dreptul de a mediata putin.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si chiar daca  nimeriti o seara in care aveti de ales dintre "Mascariciul" lui Malaiele si spectacolul studentilor ... acordati sanse egale.. si nu desfintati un spectacol pentru ca nu vedeti "nume" pe afis, poate acolo joaca un nume care asteapta sa fie desoperit chiar de voi... Pentru ca asta e mentalitatea, ma duc o singura data pe an la teatru, macar atunci sa vad un spectacol cu un nume mare... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eh.. daca e sa fim sinceri biletul la film e ceva mai scump decat cel de teatru.. merita sa oferiti sanse.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;P.S: stiu ca nu am spus lucrurilor pe nume asa cum astepatau unii, dar la ora 6 dimineata e tot ce pot spune, si faptul ca tastez lucrurile astea, la ora asta ,cred ca spune totul despre piesa pe care am vazut-o si pe care o recomand... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;P.S2: orice greseala de ortografie/punctuatie/exprimare sau doar logica va rog sa-mi fie iertata nu prea mai vad clar la ora asta si nici nu cred ca mai gandesc clar, asta e mai grav... si cand ma gandesc ca peste 2 ore tre sa fiu in picioare ma apuca urlatul.. si cum nu am forta sa urlu ma multumesc cu un somnic scurt...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Night all... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;~~add: La multi ani Cristina!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;                La multi ani Merchea!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sibiu here I come.. "Faust" time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-663438619632930641?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/663438619632930641/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=663438619632930641' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/663438619632930641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/663438619632930641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/curaj.html' title='Curaj...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R4gx-rC2w8I/AAAAAAAAAOU/IS7NuPH9yUw/s72-c/img02.13.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-5318317315559019373</id><published>2008-01-11T21:50:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T21:59:53.382+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Conculudent dar inexistent</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Nu stiu de ce am numit postul asta asa cum l-am numit, nu are logica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Am vrut doar sa va zic ca viata e foarte rar o poveste si atunci cand e, nu invatam sa o facem o poveste cu happyend... dar mereu ni se da sansa unui nou inceput..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Si vroiam sa va zic ca sunt putini cei ce stiu sa faca din viata o poveste.. si uneori povestea e cu zane si printi, alteori cu cersetori si prinetese, mai e si cocosatul care sufera, dar e si bestia care se imbuneaza.. din toate astea nu castigam decat noi.. noi cu povestile noastre, asa cum sunt ele, vesele sau triste, frumoase sau urate, simple sau complicate.. una peste alta din asta e facuta viata, dintr-o multime de povesti traite mereu cu o alta intensitate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Pentru ca din povestile astea nu ramai decat cu amintirea, s-a inventat memoria.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Sa pastram in memorie lucrurile frumoase, sa le uitam pe cele triste si sa mergem inainte cu capul sus ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-5318317315559019373?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/5318317315559019373/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=5318317315559019373' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5318317315559019373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5318317315559019373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/conculudent-dar-inexistent.html' title='Conculudent dar inexistent'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-7864495451930610834</id><published>2008-01-07T05:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T05:11:13.210+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Incepe scoala...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R4GXyLC2w6I/AAAAAAAAAOE/sDaBarwS4jo/s1600-h/027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R4GXyLC2w6I/AAAAAAAAAOE/sDaBarwS4jo/s400/027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152566336902579106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Incepe scoala si ma bucur ca incepe..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu ca nu mi-ar fi placut sa dorm toata ziua, ci pentru ca mi-am incarcat bateriile suficient.. si pentru ca la mine la facultate chiar se fac lucruri frumoase.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acestea fiind zise o sa-mi revad profesorii, colegii si clasele noastre minunate :)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lasand gluma la o parte, va urez la toti sesiune usora, eu una am trecut de primele examene inainte de vacanta - anul trecut :P ;  dar cred ca mai am de dat unele si acum ... nu stiu, ma las surprinsa :)&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In speranta ca, desi de la 11 la 18  am ore, o sa apuc sa mai scriu cate ceva pe aici.. va zic see ya :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-7864495451930610834?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/7864495451930610834/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=7864495451930610834' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7864495451930610834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7864495451930610834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/incepe-scoala.html' title='Incepe scoala...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R4GXyLC2w6I/AAAAAAAAAOE/sDaBarwS4jo/s72-c/027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-9186512847690377798</id><published>2008-01-04T07:02:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T07:51:16.107+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mircea Badea</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Am avut un prieten care in fiecare seara se uita la Badea..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;De multe ori ma uitam si eu cu el... de cele mai multe ori adormeam.. nu stiu daca din cauza plictiselii sau poate pentru ca nu imi placea modul rautacios de a aborda anumite subiecte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Nu stiu cum am dat pe youtube de el... si m-am uitat la niste fimulete... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Nu stiu daca mai are emisie la tv, dar ceea ce am vauzt pe youtube a trezit in mine o revolta..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Intrebarea cea mai potrivita ar fi cine naiba ii perimite acestui individ sa jigneasca persoane publice, sa vorbeasca ca la usa cortului pe un post tv care pretinde ca are o anumita reputatie... raspunsul mi-a venit repede citind toate commenturile care erau postate, gen : "bestial/genial/arata bine/foarte misto" etc..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;E clar pentru mine ca Badea se adreseaza unui public ce inghite actele de subcultura cu lingurita, numai bine cat sa se imbete serios..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Sunt sigura ca si printre voi exista persoane care il urmaresc... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Dar oare de ce?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;De ce va place sa vedeti un individ care arunca cu telefonul ca sa para interesant, care face gesturi atat de puerile ca sa iasa in evidenta, ca atunci cand elevul arunca hartiute din ultima banca si doamna invatatoare se prefeace ca nu-l vede si atunci incepe sa arunce cu creioane s.a..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Se crede atat de interesant daca isi tine telefonul deschis.. pai daca te deranjeaza tata ca iti dau oamenii mesaje in timpul emisiei nu te-a invatat nimeni ca ai un buton de inchidere..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Nu stiu, eu una consider tot acest circ un strigat.. mi se pare un om plin de frustrari, un om care isi traieste destul de trist existenta nerealizand ca toata ura pe care o strange in el si pe care obisnuieste sa o dea si celor din jurul lui, sau celor care il privesc, nu face decat sa ii favorizeze o existenta mizera lipsita de orice unda de optimism..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Nu poti sa injuri oamenii la tv, nu poti sa-ti expui scandalurile si problemele personale la tv, mesajele si mailurile, telefoanele si amenintarile de tot felul... nu poti sa faci toate astea daca te respecti in primul rand pe tine si apoi pe cei care te privesc.. asta doar daca nu cumva numele tau e Oana Zavoranu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Dar se pare ca si tipul asta de "pierde-viata" are fanii lui..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Numai ca eu zic sa mai cititi si voi ziarele singuri si o sa vedeti ca nu e dracul asa negru, sau in loc sa citit ziarele sau sa va uitati la tv..puneti mana si cititi o carte si nu va mai lasati indobitociti de anumiti indivizi care se considera lideri de opinie.. sa fie la ei acasa liderii cui vor ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Vorbeam candva de o turma.. ei bine voi cei care il ridicati in slavi pe baiatul asta, nu sunteti decat o alta turma.. turma care se crede rebela.. rebeli ne rebeli, tot turma sunteti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Si daca zice ca traieste in Romania si asta ii ocupa tot timpul, de ce naiba nu emigreaza in tari mai calde, ca aici oricum face umbra de poamana - ca tot macane ca sistemul e corupt, ca aia, ca ailalta .. dar nu schimba nimic, se multumeste sa comenteze de la o anumita distanta... dar de ce nu ma mir seamana cu majoritatea roamnilor.. e o trastura de caracter sa nu te duci la vot da dupa aia 4 ani sa-l injuri pe cel ales, fara sa realizezi ca daca vroiai sa fie altfel puteai prin votul tau sa schimb situatia.. sau puteai macar sa zici ca ai incercat!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Si ca sa inchei acest subiect, trebuie sa precizez ca ma doare faptul ca numele de Mircea Badea mai este inca asociat cu numele regretatei PROFESIONISTE de televiziune care a instruit atatea nume mari ale televiziunii romane si care are un merit extraordinar in evolutia televiziunii din Romania, o mare doamna Jana Gheorighiu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;P.S: o persoana care nu stie sa gaseasca in critici partea constructiva e o persoana predispusa la involutie continua .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parerea mea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**add: am trait s-o citesc si pe asta Mircea Badea e si ... ACTOR nene... deci la ce naiba se mai face institutul de teatru in tara asta daca si Oana Zavoranu si Mircea Badea au titulatura de actori.. ca si domnul Dinica sau domunul Beligan..&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/36707873-9186512847690377798?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/9186512847690377798/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=9186512847690377798' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/9186512847690377798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/9186512847690377798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/mircea-badea.html' title='Mircea Badea'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-4409695676815283885</id><published>2008-01-02T07:51:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T07:59:17.347+02:00</updated><title type='text'>8 dimineata....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cu greu mai reusesc sa inteleg ce mi se intampla...e 8 dimineata si eu n-am inchis un ochi, probabil o sa urmeze o noua zi in care nu ma voi bucura de lumina soarelui pentru ca o sa dorm bustean..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si macar daca as petrece...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Unii ar spune ca stau pe net si d'asta n-am somn, dar va pot asigura ca am deschis acum cateva minute calculatorul, dupa ce ceaiurile, cartile, muzica... si chiar autosugetia au dat gres in incercarea mea disperata de a inchide macar un ochi..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu mai inteleg mare lucru din ceea ce mi se intampla.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sunt nopti cand din cauza gandurilor nu poti sa adormi, dar va zic sincer de cam  2 saptamani de cand am parte de aceste bizare insomnii am epuizat cam toate gandurile pe care le aveam de gandit...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dap... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In speranta ca daca ies putin pe afara o sa amortesc de frig si o sa pot sa adorm, ma duc sa-l trezesc pe bietul Funny si sa-l plimb putin prin cartier...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cu toate ca nici eu nu prea imi dau  seama ce vina are bietul animalut... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-4409695676815283885?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/4409695676815283885/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=4409695676815283885' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4409695676815283885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4409695676815283885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/8-dimineata.html' title='8 dimineata....'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-4125254268562273277</id><published>2008-01-01T04:35:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T04:55:15.996+02:00</updated><title type='text'>La multi ani 2008!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am pasit cu dreptul in noul an, ba mai mult am senzatia ca pentru prima data in viata am facut un lucru cu adevarat corect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Corect fata de mine, dar si corect fata de cei din jurul meu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Spuneam in ultimul post de anul trecut ca voi pleca din Bucuresti pentru revelion; si chiar asa am si facut pe 30 am plecat cu mai multi cunoscuti, dar nu a durat prea mult pentru mine excursia pentru ca in dimineata de 31 la 4 noaptea conduceam spre Bucuresti... poate si pentru ca nu ma simteam extraordinar acolo, dar mai ales pentru ca asa am simtit ca e mai bine sa fac..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu stiu cati dintre voi au simtit vreodata neovia sa fie langa parintii lor de revelion, dar eu chiar am simtit nevoia sa stau acasa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si asa am si facut... am petrecut revelionul cu cea mai importanta persoana din viata mea, cea careia ii datorez totul pe lumea asta, cea care face totul pentru mine si care sa straduieste zi de zi sa ma ajute sa invat sa merg in viata cu pasi marunti dar siguri...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am stat cu mama si la 12 noaptea in timp ce mama se chinuia cu sampania care nu se desfacea eu il tineam in brate pe Funny care stia ca ceva solemn se intampla si era tare cumintel..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si vorba lu' Soso, tocmai eu care am avut atatea oferte...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Da.. anul asta consider ca l-am inceput foarte bine si simt din suflet ca a fost pentru prima data cand am facut lucrurile asa cum trebuie facute... am stat cu mama, mai tarziu cu sor-mea si ceva prieteni culesi de prin Club A .. si totul a fost superb si linistitior... si foarte calduros si intim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cati dintre voi nu regreta azi ca nu au stat langa anumite persoane mai mult timp atunci cand mai aveau sansa... si acum ca le-au pierdut regreta fiecare secunda pierduta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu nu vreau sa ajung sa regret nimic... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cat despre prieteni... ei vin si pleca in viata noastra... iar cei care sunt facuti sa stea inteleg ca nu pentru ca ne petrecem revelionul impreuna suntem mai buni prieteni...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Va urez un an nou minunat, plin de fericire, reusite, dragoste... si multa sanatate...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-4125254268562273277?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/4125254268562273277/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=4125254268562273277' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4125254268562273277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4125254268562273277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2008/01/la-multi-ani-2008.html' title='La multi ani 2008!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-5480739846371172057</id><published>2007-12-30T05:44:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T06:15:36.063+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ceai de musetel cu lapte</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R3cVz7C2w5I/AAAAAAAAAN8/A4eU2HErvIE/s1600-h/RaUSLookeqlk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R3cVz7C2w5I/AAAAAAAAAN8/A4eU2HErvIE/s400/RaUSLookeqlk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149608680688632722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mai tine cineva minte povestea cu uimirea?&lt;br /&gt;Daca nu isi aduce nimeni aminte, va upgradez eu rapid..&lt;br /&gt;Ziceam de mult... (adevarul e ca nu stiu daca am scris si aici despre asta).. ca ma las uimita...&lt;br /&gt;Ma las uimita de tot ceea ce imi ofera ziua.. de la primele secunde cand deschid ochii, pana cand adorm..&lt;br /&gt;Si uite cum... viata continua sa ma uimeasca zilnic..&lt;br /&gt;Ca sa intelegeti de ce acest post are titlul pe care-l are.. o sa va explic repede cum de vreo saptamana si jumatate mi s-a dereglat sistemul..&lt;br /&gt;Cand am intrat in vacanat am recuperarat cateva zile dormind serios si mancand bine.. apoi au urmat ceva zile mai agitate.. de vreo saptamana si jumatea in schimb sistemul meu e dat peste cap, in sensul ca pana pe la 7 dimineata nu pot sa inchid un ochi, si de la 7 adorm si ma mai trezesc undeva pe la 5 dupa-amiaza,asadar cam pierd toata ziua... am incercat toate metodele posibile sa-mi revin, dar se pare ca pentru corpul meu ziua a devenit noapte si viceversa...&lt;br /&gt;Nu-mi pot explica aceasta dereglare... dar incerc sa o combat cum pot eu mai bine, asadar am apelat la vesnicul ceai care ne este recomandat in caz de insomnie, combinat cu ceva laptic... retetei i se mai adauga ceva "Viata mea in arta" - Stanislavski.. si noaptea cat e ea de lunga nu fac decat sa citesc si sa beau ceai..&lt;br /&gt;Efectul?? N-are efect metoda mea..dar incerc.. daca as fi o "blogaritza" adevarata acum v-as antrena cu rugamintea de a-mi trimite idei noi de tratare, dar cum intr-o saptamana incepe scoala sunt sigura ca o sa ma tratez din mers..&lt;br /&gt;Cat despre modul in care viata ma uimeste iar..&lt;br /&gt;Nici eu nu pot sa-mi explic, dar am acea agitatie despre care am mai vorbit noi, pe care o simt in piept si ma bucur ca am trecut iar cu brio de o pasa proasta care putea sa-mi strice definitiv sfarsitul de an. Dar cum cineva, undeva - are grija si de sufletelel nostre... o sa am parte de o stare sufleteasca foarte buna de revelion..&lt;br /&gt;Si azi am invatat cat de important e sa apara in viata ta o persoana la timpul potrivit, nici mai devreme ca exista riscul sa nu vezi persoana respectiva fiind orbit de anumite alte persoane care cu vreme isi pierd farmecul incercand sa para interesante.. dar nici prea tarziu cand e posibil sa te prinda intr-o pasa mult prea deprimata..&lt;br /&gt;Si in viata mea a aparut acea persoana care fara sa stie si fara sa stea prea mult a reusit sa ma faca sa zambesc si sa uit fie si doar pentru cateva zile.. de toate framantarile de isi facusera culcusi in mintea mea..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si cum in dupa-amiaza asta plec din Bucuresti si nu ma intorc decat pe 2... adica la anu'&lt;br /&gt;Va urez o petrecere frumoasa si uitati pentru cateva ore de tot ce va doare. tot ce va face sa nu dormiti noaptea, tot ceea ce va dezamageste.. de tot ceea ce va poate strica o noapte frumoasa...&lt;br /&gt;Si sa ne revedem in 2008 cu vesti bune, cu multa veselie, sanatate, dragoste, reusite si pofat de  viata..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aceeasi Ana din 2006... 2007.. soon in 2008..&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/36707873-5480739846371172057?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/5480739846371172057/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=5480739846371172057' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5480739846371172057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/5480739846371172057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/12/ceai-de-musetel-cu-lapte.html' title='Ceai de musetel cu lapte'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R3cVz7C2w5I/AAAAAAAAAN8/A4eU2HErvIE/s72-c/RaUSLookeqlk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-9183934705370460667</id><published>2007-12-28T22:58:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T00:34:15.588+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cu dor...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R3V0LbC2w3I/AAAAAAAAANs/_8PeevmYySA/s1600-h/DSC02062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R3V0LbC2w3I/AAAAAAAAANs/_8PeevmYySA/s320/DSC02062.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149149488555148146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;As vrea sa debiteze mintea mea acum ceva interesant, ceva care sa te convinga sa citesti fiecare cuvant din postul asta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Numai ca mintea mea la ora asta e ori prea obosita - ori prea odihnita sa debiteze asa ceva, asa ca o sa ma multumesc cu simpla-mi sinceritate, care sigur o sa-l tina pe Soso cu ochii pe ecran pana la final .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu stiu daca ti se face vreodata dor de Andreea Esca, dar mie mi se face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Da, sunt zile cand stau acasa si nu fac decat sa ma bucur de faptul ca stau acasa; si atunci ma uit la televizor la toate prostiile si brusc nu stiu de ce mi se face dor de Andreea Esca... si de stirile ei de la ora 7...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sau nu stiu daca ai simtit vreodata nevoia sa te invarti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Da, ca atunci cand te ridica cineva in brate si te invarte tare, tare, tare... si bineinteles tu tipi, si ii spui sa te lase jos..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu recunosc ca simt uneori nevoia sa fiu invartita de cineva, sa ma tin de gatul lui si sa mor de frica...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sau.. nu ti-e dor cateodata de zilele de vara cand mergi la mare si nu ai chef sa intri in apa, dar cu tine sunt niste nebuni care vor neaparat si te supui - cu lene maxima - majoritatii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si in apa te acomodezi cu greu, normal ca apa e prea rece, numai ca ei s-au deapartat deja cam la 10 metri de tine si te striga... si te chinui sa razbati in apa rece.. si ajungi la ei, incepe sa-ti placa in apa, incepi sa ii stropesti, incetul cu incetul iti uzi si parul, ce mai -  te bagi cu totul la fund si incerci sa ii prinzi de picioare pe cei de langa tine... normal ei inoata si reusesc sa-ti scape si vine unu' mai destept si cu toate ca pana acum ai stat cu capul sub apa, el insita  sa te bage la fund si tu tipi si el se chinuie, si-l musti... si stati lipiti unul de altul, uzi amandoi si in spatele scopului de a te baga la fund, se asunde dorinta de a te tine cat mai mult in brate...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Parca atunci cand doua trupuri se ating in apa, nu e acelasi lucru cu simpla atingere a pielii uscate...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu va e dor de momente ca astea?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pe toate astea intr-o forma sau alta, intr-o situatie sau alta, cu anumite persoane sau altele .. le mai putem experimenata..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dar mie mi-e tare dor de  momentele cand prietena mea cea mai buna, din generala, imi aducea biletele pe care scria "vrei sa fi prietena mea?";  sau de momentele cand ma pregateam sufleteste de ceea ce mi se parea un pas enorm ..primul meu sarut; mi-e dor de zilele de nastere unde jucam adevar sau provocare numai ca sa avem sansa sa ne sarutam cu "el"... mi-e dor de momentele cand simteam un gol in stomc cand diriginta ne anunta ca urmeaza o sedinta cu parintii.. mi-e dor de diminetile cand trebuia sa ma urc in autobuz cu un sac de vreo 4 kile plin cu manuale si caiete cu teme nefacute... mi-e dor de emotiile tezelor... de ascultatul la fizica dintra9a... mi-e dor de chiulitul in silencio..mi-e dor de excursiile cu autocarul...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Toate aste nu mai pot fi traite.. senzatii, emotii, curiozitati, frici, bucurii, iubiri, suferinte, lacrimi si zambete.. toate astea s-au dus si nimic nu le mai poate aduce inapoi, tot ce avem de facut e sa le conservam bine si sa avem grija sa mai punem din cand in cand cate o amintire in albumul vietii..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: No matter what my friends might say, I ain't missing you... at all..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Anna/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Anna/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-9183934705370460667?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/9183934705370460667/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=9183934705370460667' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/9183934705370460667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/9183934705370460667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/12/cu-dor.html' title='Cu dor...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R3V0LbC2w3I/AAAAAAAAANs/_8PeevmYySA/s72-c/DSC02062.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-404518576097366264</id><published>2007-12-27T01:26:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T01:47:22.305+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Timpul...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R3LjlrC2wwI/AAAAAAAAAM0/wj2UlZkkkro/s1600-h/Miwa-Yanagi_Miwa-Yanagi-05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R3LjlrC2wwI/AAAAAAAAAM0/wj2UlZkkkro/s320/Miwa-Yanagi_Miwa-Yanagi-05.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148427560387265282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sunt intrebata ce fac si ma ascund in ultima vreme in raspunsul : "ma bucur de sarbatori".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ar fi frumos sa fie asa... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In jurul meu meu toata lumea e intr-o permanenta depresie si trebuie sa ai nervi de fier sa nu pici si tu intr-o relativa depresie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;De cand ma stiu imi place sa plec de la niste ipoteze naive, nu-mi place niciodatata sa vad dezastrul dintr-o situatie sau rautatea dintr-un om, am obiceiul sanatos sa plec mereu de la ipoteza ca dracu nu e asa negru si daca e - cel mai probabil are treaba in alta parte decat viata mea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am zis "obiceiul sanatos" pentru asa am impresia ca reusesc sa conserv o parte din mine si sa ma feresc de asaltul de energie negativa, care se afla peste tot mai nou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;*De ce nu uitati de Sarbatori ca v-ati certat cu mama, tata, sora sau catelul?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; De ce  nu incercati sa nu va mai ganditi ca nu a mai sunat de o saptamana, si sa puneti voi mana sa sunati?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; De ce nu incercati sa trimiteti voi primul mesaj, fara sa va mai gandti ca nu e bine asa, ca e sub demnitatea voastra sa faceti primul pas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; De ce nu incercati sa va bucurati de bradul de anul asta, ca voi ramaneti in casa -  dar el pana de boboteaza trebuie sa plece!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; De ce nu incercati sa dati ceva mai multe sanse celor din jurul vostru, sa nu-i etichetati, sa le dati sansa sa va arate ca gresiti cand ii priviti cu ochi rai?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; De ce nu incercati sa vedeti in situatiile din viata voastra partea frumoasa sau macar cea interesanta... sau macar iesirea?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Teoretic totul pare simplu, dar alta e ideea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;De ce naiba trebuie sa ne impiedicam zilnic de cate ceva, fara sa realizem ca pierdem timp valoros, timp in care puteam sa-i spun ca mi-e dor de el, timp in care puteam sa ma bucur de o bucata de cozonac fara sa ma gandesc cat ma ingras, timp in care puteam sa fac pe cineva sa se simta bine, timp in care puteam sa aflu ca sunt iubita, timp in care puteam sa zic ca am realizat ceva cu adevarat...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu, noi  pierdem timpul plangandu-ne de mila ca timpul trece si noi nu facem nimic. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Get the point??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si timpul ca timpul... dar sarbatorile s-au cam dus!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-404518576097366264?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/404518576097366264/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=404518576097366264' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/404518576097366264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/404518576097366264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/12/timpul.html' title='Timpul...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R3LjlrC2wwI/AAAAAAAAAM0/wj2UlZkkkro/s72-c/Miwa-Yanagi_Miwa-Yanagi-05.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-2886352185644283584</id><published>2007-12-24T10:26:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T11:09:12.157+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fascinatia ma fascineaza fascinant si am ajuns sa fiu fascinata de tot ceea ce fascineaza si nu e neaparat fascinant...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R29tY7C2wuI/AAAAAAAAAMk/iuV58EBp0Ok/s1600-h/24122007%28003%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R29tY7C2wuI/AAAAAAAAAMk/iuV58EBp0Ok/s320/24122007%28003%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147453174041723618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Mai nou ma las foarte usor fascinata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Ma fascineaza de exemplu vremea de afara. Recunosc am fost martora la ninsoarea de acum mai bine de o saptamana, dar de atunci Bucurestiul e acoperit cu un strat subtire de zapada ce nu se mai topeste, ca sa nu va mai zic ca peisajul de mai sus a fost fotografiat acum 20 minute in fata blocului meu nu la munte...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Da.. ma mai las fascinata de mirosul de brad ce a impanzit casa..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;De fata lu' Funny cand stie ca il scoate mama la plimbare..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Ma las fascinata de camera mea, pe care am impresia ca n-am mai vazut-o de luni de zile si incep sa ma simt ca ascasa... cu toate ca si in timpul scolii tot aici locuiesc..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Ma las fascinata de ideea de sarmale, care nici nu au inceput sa fie gatite la mine in casa, dar cu siguranta dupa 12 noaptea se vor afla la mine in stomac.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Ma las convinsa ca e Craciun, ca trebuie sa fie strazile luminate si copii fericiti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Ieri eram cea mai pesimista din parcare, preziceam un Craciun ratat si asta nu pentru ca imi doream asa ceva ci pentru ca imi lipsea acel ceva. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Azi l-am gasit... stiam ca e vorba de o liniste interioara pe care mi-o cautam, dar nu o gaseam in agitatia semafoarelor si a claxoanelor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Si ceea ce mi-a placut si mai mult a fost ca am gasit un articol in sapteseri in care o anume Sasha (nu ma intrebati cine e) zice si ea cam ceea ce simt si eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;O sa citez aici putin din articolul respectiv, articol datorita caruia sarbatorile mele si-au schimbat culoare...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"Ce sa-mi doresc, daca as putea sa imi pun o singura dorinta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Si brusc, STIU. Acum in clipa asta, imi doresc sa pastrez pentru totdeauna linistea si zambetul asta interior, pe care le simt de ceva vreme. Nu mi-e adrenalina, nu mi-e torent de sentimente si de pasiune, nu mi-e viata traita la maximum... dar macar e pace. E ca si cum as fi nu fierbinte, nu inghetata, nici macar rece, ci ... calda. Ma uit in jur, ma uit la toti si la toate, ma uit la trecutul meu , ma uit la viitorul meu, ma uit cu detasare. Cu zambet. Si ma uit la prezent cu caldura. Asadar, daca as avea voie sa imi pun o singura dorinta, asta i-as cere eu lui Mos Craciun: liniste si armonie pe dinauntru. Eu bine cu mine. Si atunci n-as mai avea nici firici, nici indoieli, n-as mai cauta nici scuze, nici amanari. Ar fi totul in echilibru.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Si daca ne-am dori cu totii asta? Noi, bine cu noi insine... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Am spune atat de usor si de sincer: "Te iubesc!" si "Iarta-ma"... Si am ierta atat de usor , de repede si din toata inima... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Pentru cei care au inteles ceva, s-au regasit, sau au avut macar rabdare sa citeasca tot, sper ca si-au gasit sau macar isi cauta linistea asta despre care tot vorbesc... zambetul si caldura care daca va vor trona in suflete, se vor vedea si in ochi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Ma fascineaza atat de multe lucruri minunte pe lumea asta si tot ceea ce imi doresc e sa invat sa tin ochisorii larg deschisi oriunde ma duc si sa nu ratez nimic, sa vad cat mai multe locuri, sa gust cat mai multe, sa miros cat mai multe, sa alerg cat mai mult, sa dorm cat mai mult, sa iubesc cat mai mult, sa am curajul mereu sa recunosc cat mai multe, sa cunosc cat mai multi oameni, sa citesc cat mai multe carti, sa asculta cat mai multa muzica, sa vad cat mai multe filme, sa fac cat mai multe poze, sa am destul timp pentru toate...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Si in acest Ajun de Craciun o sa ma las fascinata de cat mai multe banalitati pentru ca cine stie ce ratez daca nu deschid ochii bine..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-2886352185644283584?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/2886352185644283584/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=2886352185644283584' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2886352185644283584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2886352185644283584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/12/fascintia-ma-fascineaza-fascinant-si-am.html' title='Fascinatia ma fascineaza fascinant si am ajuns sa fiu fascinata de tot ceea ce fascineaza si nu e neaparat fascinant...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R29tY7C2wuI/AAAAAAAAAMk/iuV58EBp0Ok/s72-c/24122007%28003%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1255505841938543222</id><published>2007-12-20T18:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T19:32:09.472+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre iarna din noi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R2qdM7C2wtI/AAAAAAAAAMc/yLZvZPzVkcw/s1600-h/winter.barn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R2qdM7C2wtI/AAAAAAAAAMc/yLZvZPzVkcw/s200/winter.barn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146098369557873362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Sunt momente cand mi se face tare dor de copilarie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;De toate zilele alea in care nu stiam decat sa ma joc, sa cunosc lumea si sa invat cate ceva despre tot ceea ce oamenii mari stiau deja.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Mi-e dor sa-mi doresc sa cresc mare...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Mi-e atat de dor incat azi-noapte la patru si jumatate eram in fata gradinitei mele... lacrimile ce-mi curgeau pe obraz nu puteau fi controlate... si stateam sa ma gandesc ca as vrea sa pot sa am o telecomanda a timpului si sa pot sa dau timpul inapoi si in loc sa stau aici sa imi scriu gandurile sa fiu in bratele mosului la serbarea de Craciun si sa-i spun o poezie pe care am repetat-o ceva saptamani.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Mi-e dor de atat de multe locuri in care obisnuiam sa ma duc cand eram mica si acum cand trec pe acolo am o senzatie de siguranta, am senzatia ca nimeni si nimic nu ma poate atinge ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Mi-e dor sa fie iarna si sa numar zilele pana la venirea mosului. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Mi-e tare dor de momentele de emotie cand ne apucam sa impodobim bradul, sau de secundele cand simteam ca imi fuge pamantul de sub picioare cand vedeam cadourile sub brad..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Astazi astept iarna...si imi incalzesc sufletul cu amintiri ce se strang in fiecare zi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Fericirea nu creeaza altceva decat amintiri si in fiecare zi nu fac decat sa incerc sa-mi fac cat mai multe amintiri care sa-mi incalzeasca iarna..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Poate ca toate motivele pentru care zambesc si simt ca imi circula sangele prin vene se regasesc intr-un capuccino baut la doua noaptea vis-a-vis de facultate, unde beculetele si globurile, combinate cu caldura emanata de o mica soba pe gaz faceau ca totul sa para un cadru luat dintr-un film ce se difuzeaza inainte de Craciun la tv, unde actorii nu-si spun multe, dar le citesti bucuria in ochi. Eu una eram bucuroasa si parca nu mai conta nimic altceva si orice factor extern parca murdarea obiectivul camerei ce  filma ascunsa intr-un colt... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Stiu bine ca nimic nu o sa mai fie azi asa cum a fost ieri, pentru ca nici maine nu are cum sa fie cum e astazi.. dar vreau sa am puterea sa pastrez in mine bucuria data de capuccino si entuziasmul unei plimbari cu 50km/h prin Bucurestiul inghetat de ora cinci dimineata... si de cele "zece intamplari ciudate... si piticii din poveste"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                  ~~Si acum Soso zice: "o sa-ti treaca"~~&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/36707873-1255505841938543222?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1255505841938543222/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1255505841938543222' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1255505841938543222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1255505841938543222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/12/sunt-momente-cand-mi-se-face-tare-dor.html' title='Despre iarna din noi'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R2qdM7C2wtI/AAAAAAAAAMc/yLZvZPzVkcw/s72-c/winter.barn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6935151579283150194</id><published>2007-12-18T00:32:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T01:25:34.197+02:00</updated><title type='text'>O poveste</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Povesti se scriu in fiecare zi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Unele povesti se inregistreaza in fiecare zi pe versuri si pe ritmuri, in cadre si secvente, dar parca n-au acelasi farmec...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Povestile adevarate se scriu pe foi de hartie ratacite pe birouri pline de praf.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Se scriu in suflete tinere, pe buze prea moi si in ochii prea blanzi ai fetei ce mai crede inca in povesti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fata aceea....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ea are buzele  inca fragede si spera ca privirea ei... sa spuna intr-o zi o poveste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ea nu stie inca, dar toata lumea ii citeste povestea in ochii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Poveste e banala... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Un el si o ea, asa cum toate povestile incep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Inceputul.... asa cum incep povestile ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Candva, undeva ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Intr-un sfarsit de vara calduroasa, cand nu stii daca sa-ti iei cu tine  bluza cu maneca lunga pentru seara...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Un banut, un zambet, multe priviri, un fior ce strabate fiecare por si speranta ca se vor revedea in toamna ce avea sa vina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si asa a fost.. nesperate dorinte si ganduri ascunse... o toamna ciudata si plina de viata ... povestea continua asa cum se intampla si-n viata, cu bune si cu rele... neinteresanta fata de cum a inceput... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si aveau sa se iubesca, sa se certe si sa se ierte, sa fuga unul de altul si sa se tina in brate strans...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si aveau sa-si zica atatea... secrete si bancuri, planuri si orare... povesti cu sfarsit fericit...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si aveau sa planga impreuna si sa rada, sa danseze si sa cante, sa urle si sa coloreze lumea in culorile lor preferate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aveau sa transpire impreuna si sa stea imbratisati pana ce soarele rasarea pe cer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aveau sa lucreze si sa invete impreuna, sa fie despartiti de toti cei din jur si sa se impace in secret.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si aveau sa tanjeasca dupa ce credeau ca au pierdut,  dar aveau sa afle ca nu au pierdut nimic ca povestea acum incepe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;... poate ca aveau sa se tina in brate in seara de Craciun, sa-si jure iubire pe viata si aveau sa stea imbratisati ani de zile , aveau sa se duca la altar si sa aiba copii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Toate Craciunurile si le-au petrecut impreuna, nu stiau ca mai exista si alti oameni in jurul lor, nu le pasa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si ca in orice poveste poate au trait fericiti pana la adanci batraneti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dar asta e doar o .. poveste.. ca altfel nu i-am mai spune  poveste ar fi doar o stire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si stirile sunt prea dure si prea la obiect.&lt;br /&gt;Stirile ne trezesc la realitate...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sa lasam povestea sa fie poveste... si ca in orice poveste nu uitati ca exista si un sambure de adevar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ca e doar un sambure asta va garantez eu, sa-l gasiti e mai greu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6935151579283150194?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6935151579283150194/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6935151579283150194' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6935151579283150194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6935151579283150194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/12/o-poveste.html' title='O poveste'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6385488404876328036</id><published>2007-12-11T21:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T22:14:16.899+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Un alt post care nu poate fi citit decat cu ..melodia de mai  jos! Good luck</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/magic_georgia/5e172bb663aadb"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_5e172bb663aadb(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Cerem catre cer sanatate - si atunci cand suntem sanatosi nici nu realizam asta, ni se pare ceva normal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Apoi ne imbolnavim si dam vina pe divinitate pentru asta, fara sa ne gandim nicio secunda ca noi eram cei care tebuia sa avem grija de sanatatea noastra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Speram sa ne gasim marea dragoste - sa vina intr-o zi cineva in viata noastra si sa ne transforme toate zilele in povesti; si vine cineva si totul e perfect numai ca nu stim sa pastram ceea ce am primit si incep certurile, despartiri in care imploram divinitatea sa ni-l aduca inapoi si impacari dupa care uitam tot chinul si toata suferinta si o luam de la capat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Suntem pusi in fata examenelor - si imploram divinitatea sa ne ajute, si-i promitem ca daca trecem si de examenul asta ne vom comporta exemplar si o sa folosim fiecare secunda din cate mai avem pentru a valorifica sansa data...nu trece mult timp si ne plange de ceea ce am primit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Ne dorim lunar sa murim atunci cand suntem in situatii de stress, dar cand ni se spune ca nu mai avem sanse de viata consideram ca ni se face o nedreptate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Parasim oameni care ne iubesc fugind dupa altii care nici nu ne vad, preferam sa alergam dupa cineva care ne ignora si sa suferim decat sa stam langa cineva care si-ar da si viata pentru noi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Ne chinuim nopti intregi sa luam examene si atunci cand suntem acceptati la facultate, chiulim si nu invatam in sesiune...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Da astia suntem noi..oamenii...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Dar cum ar fi sa incercam sa ne bucuram de momentele in care suntem sanatosi tun, sa iubim la cote maixme si sa ne abtinem cand avem ceva de reprosat si am putea sa ranii pe cineva drag, sa fim sinceri cu cei din jurul nostru, sa avem o lista cu prioritati si sa o respectam ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Sa iubim, sa respectam, sa nu mancam cu mana, sa nu inselam, sa nu injuram, sa nu ne prefacem, sa nu mintim, sa nu uram, sa nu fugim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Imposibil..n-am mai fi oameni - si cine zice ca e posibil viseaza cam mult..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Si cu toate astea ce ne costa sa incercam in fiecare zi sa fim asa, sa ne bucuram de fiecare moment din viata..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;De ce pierdem timpul asteptand Craciunul, cand tot timpul in care il asteptam e un timp pierdut... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Hai sa nu  mai asteptam nimic si sa incercam sa valorificam fiecare minunt, fie ca stam in casa, in trafic sau la scoala..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Sa avem curajul sa ne recunoastem iubirile si sa ne asumam faptele pe care le facem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Sa mergem sa ne facem toate analizele ca nu cumva sa aflam prea tarziu de vreo boala din noi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Sa ne implicam in cat mai multe proiecte ca sa dormim cat mai putin..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Sa nu ne lasam batuti niciodata, si atunci cand suntem la pamant sa avem curajul de a cere ajutor..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Era doar o sugestie.. si eu incerc sa-mi impun sa vad lucrurile asa cum le-am scris mai sus.. trebuie doar sa avem destul curaj...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6385488404876328036?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6385488404876328036/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6385488404876328036' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6385488404876328036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6385488404876328036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/12/show94abd0398e6aa1448-46-cerem-catre.html' title='Un alt post care nu poate fi citit decat cu ..melodia de mai  jos! Good luck'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-4998230859537546890</id><published>2007-12-11T16:22:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T17:05:03.603+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Update...sau "sunt putin revoltata da-mi trece"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R16lH7ozMCI/AAAAAAAAAMU/gY7SZvuNVXU/s1600-h/SANY0003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R16lH7ozMCI/AAAAAAAAAMU/gY7SZvuNVXU/s320/SANY0003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142729380190171170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;A venit vacanata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;Aveam nevoie de ea.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mult somn, multa mancare, televizor, comp, carti, dvd-uri, muzica.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fara trafic, claxoane, centura de siguranta.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liniste, somn... si o mica ordine prin camera si prin ganduri.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atunci cand esti in mijocul furtunii nu prea gandesti, incerci sa te adapostesti, sa gasesti o solutie pe moment, dupa ce furtuna trece, gandesti totul la rece si vezi ca puteai sa gasesti si alte solutii mult mai bune si mai avantajoase.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cam asta fac acum, vad totul detasat, gasesc solutii si ma bucur ca am si eu timp sa-mi pun in ordine gandurile.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Situatiile din viata mea sunt care mai de care mai complicate la prima vedere si foarte simple la a2-a..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cred ca am nevoie de mult somn...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un scurt bilant al ultimelor doua luni?!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nimic mai simplu.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La facultate totul chiar a fost fabulos, cu urcusuri si coborasuri, cu momente de vis dar si cu momente de neputinta. Important e ca am trecut cu bine de primele examene din viata de studenta. Ba mai mult ma gandeam cu nostalgie  la temele de vacanta din timpul scolii, din fericire am primit si noi asa ceva... deci sunt incantata ca am o treaba. :))&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prieteni... am invatat in anii trecuti, ca prietenii vin si pleaca si ca raman langa tine doar cei care te merita si pe care ii meriti.&lt;br /&gt;Cam asa e si pana acum cu prietenii mei. Mi-am facut cativa prin facultate, dar asa naiva cum sunt am uitat sa ma uit de doua ori inainte sa-i numesc prieteni, si am dat-o iar in bara, nu la fel de grav ca in alte dati dar destul cat sa ma faca sa deschid bine ochii.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asa ca acum am o buna prietena care mi-e tare draga si cu care desi nu ma vad foarte des cand ne vedem ne zicem tot, si cu care imi place foarte mult sa lucrez; am un coleg de grupa la care tin foarte mult si cu care vorbesc pe holuri tot ce vrei si ce  nu vrei, ne consiliem reciproc -  iar cand am neovie de un sfat fac ce fac si ii adun pe amandoi si ii pun sa se gandeasca.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mai sunt persoane care imi sunt foarte dragi dar asa cum ma stiu eu pe mine daca cineva nu trece de la stadiul de amicitie la stadiul de prietenie din proprie initiativa, eu nu sunt omul care sa intre in viata cuiva fortat.. ba din contra de multe ori ma exclud din cauze prostesti care se dovedesc mai apoi doar niste simple speculatii pe care le fac doar din dorinta de a nu deranja.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mai exista bineinteles si persoane pe care nu le suport, sau persoane despre care la inceput aveam o parere proasta dar in timp s-a dovedita gresita si cu care acum ma inteleg tare bine...sau persoane pe care sunt nevoita sa le salut, sa stau cu ele la aceasi masa, ba chiar sa ma comport dragut si prietenos .. stiu nu e corect dar din pacate cam asta e supravietuirea in societate, daca ar fi dupa mine nici nu le-as saluta pentru ca imi provoca scarba oamenii prefacuti si rai.. numai ca din pacate trebuie sa fac frumos ca sa nu provoc discutii interminabile... asa cum am facut de prea multe ori cand am fost sincera si am zis lucrurilor verde-n-fata.&lt;br /&gt;Gata ca devin revoltata si intram in alte discutii :D&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asta a fost un mic update... din fericire o luna o sa tot am timp sa stau in casa, sa dorm, sa mananc si tot ce am zis mai sus..si cu ocazia asta o sa mai si scriu cate ceva pe aici pentru ca am foarte multe pe suflet..astept doar sa ma linistesc ...&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un inceput de vacanta  odihnitor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-4998230859537546890?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/4998230859537546890/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=4998230859537546890' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4998230859537546890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4998230859537546890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/12/updatesau-sunt-putin-revoltata-da-mi.html' title='Update...sau &quot;sunt putin revoltata da-mi trece&quot;'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/R16lH7ozMCI/AAAAAAAAAMU/gY7SZvuNVXU/s72-c/SANY0003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1237570437829414062</id><published>2007-11-15T20:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T20:43:13.620+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Nup...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RzyQZva7wCI/AAAAAAAAAL0/bh0mXJQ9QMw/s1600-h/1172421137_thpic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RzyQZva7wCI/AAAAAAAAAL0/bh0mXJQ9QMw/s400/1172421137_thpic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133136447196086306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Nu mi-e bine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Si atunci cand nu mi-e bine scriu: in caiete, pe carti, pe reviste, pe telefon si atunci cand apuc si aici ,pe bietul meu blog pe care ma mai chinui sa-l mai tin in viata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Mi-e frica!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;De ce?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;De faptul ca nu stiu ce se inatmpla cu mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Traiesc in mii de parti si nu imi gasesc puterea sa ma adun intr-un fel sau altul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;La scoala incerc sa ma concentrez, pentru ca de asta am cea mai mare nevoie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Apoi incep sa ma pierd in probleme ce dor, probleme ce mi-au fost create fara sa-mi dau acordul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Mi-e dor de prea multe persoane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;In zilele cu ploaie parca imi aduc aminte de toti cei pe care nu i-am mai vauzt de mult timp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Si ... ma gandesc ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Candva ei erau totul pentru mine, asa cum alte persoane au devenit  totul pentru mine; dar timpul ne-a despartit si ne-a rupt in asa hal in cat nici un mesaj nu ne mai trimitem..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Precum vedeti ma gandesc in prea multe parti ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Iubesc, urasc, mor in fiecare zi si renasc cu fiecare secunda cand ma uit in ochii lui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;NU stiu ce e cu mine, nu am curaj sau poate am prea mult.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Nu vreau sa mai gresesc si cu toate astea, gresesc in fiecare zi cate putin si ma pierd eu pe mine intr-0 lume total necunoscuta si nu am curajul sa pornesc sa ma caut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Putin absurde cuvintele mele, dar mi-e prea greu sa descriu in cuvinte ceea ce mi se inatmpla.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Sunt ca o barca in mijlocul ocenaului si am cam fost prinsa de furtuna, si acum oricat as incerca sa vaslesc tot nu fac nimic , astept sa se linisteasca furtuna cat de cat... caci soarele clar trebuie sa rasara intr-o zi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Nu sunt chiar asa depripata pe cat par.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Sunt doar speriata, nu inteleg ce mi se intampla si ca la orice film prost, nici subtitrarea nu ma prea ajuta....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"Pentru voi... cele doua femei ale mele"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-1237570437829414062?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1237570437829414062/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1237570437829414062' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1237570437829414062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1237570437829414062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/11/nup.html' title='Nup...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RzyQZva7wCI/AAAAAAAAAL0/bh0mXJQ9QMw/s72-c/1172421137_thpic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-2422214397612887703</id><published>2007-11-07T18:19:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T18:34:33.152+02:00</updated><title type='text'>About stars...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RzHnK7CWlNI/AAAAAAAAALc/xy0n4PhlktU/s1600-h/SANY0004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RzHnK7CWlNI/AAAAAAAAALc/xy0n4PhlktU/s320/SANY0004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130135625383974098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;A trecut ceva timp de cand n-am mai scris nimic...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Numai ca timpul si noul stil de viata m-au schimbat complet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mi-a zis cineva ca era obisnuit sa intre pe mess si eu sa fiu mereu acolo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;E adevarat ca nici inainte nu stateam prea mult pe la comp, dar macar aveam puterea sa-l deschid, acum nici asta nu mai pot sa fac.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dar nu ma plang, consider ca e mai bine asa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ce sa zic, a inceput de o luna si ceva facultatea deja, si am trecut prin atat de multe incat in fiecare zi ma intreb ce ma mai poate soca, si uimitor in fiecare zi ma mai uimeste cate ceva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Incep sa ma cunosc asa cum pana acum nu am facut-o si incep sa realizez cat de superficial priveam inainte in jurul meu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mi-e bine..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Invat in fiacare zi sa am incredere in oameni, sa ascult, sa ma implic, sa rad ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si e tare bine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Au aparut si oameni noi in viata mea, oameni la care tin extraordinar de mult si langa care in fiecare zi stau cel putin 8 ore si impreuna parca invatam sa mergem, sa vorbim si poate chiar sa zburam... asa cum numai noi am putea sa o facem....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Acestea fiind zise..o sa mai scriu cand o sa mai simt nevoia.... pana atunci... traiesc la maxim secunda ce mi se da ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-2422214397612887703?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/2422214397612887703/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=2422214397612887703' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2422214397612887703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2422214397612887703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/11/about-stars.html' title='About stars...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RzHnK7CWlNI/AAAAAAAAALc/xy0n4PhlktU/s72-c/SANY0004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-8982512347961768213</id><published>2007-10-22T22:30:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T22:53:30.324+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Asa-i in tenis....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/Rxz6nDhn_iI/AAAAAAAAALU/8oTHQtLCmMI/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/Rxz6nDhn_iI/AAAAAAAAALU/8oTHQtLCmMI/s320/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124246024908963362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;In ultimul timp am vrut de mai multe ori sa scriu cate ceva numai ca oboseala, lipsa timpului m-au oprit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Numai ca stiti ce?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Ma bucur ca sunt obosita, ca nu am timp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Si ma mai bucur ca ma trezesc in fiecare dimineata fericita si plina de voie buna, hotarata sa fac din ziua ce o sa urmeze o zi perfecta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Nu-mi iese mereu dar simplu' fapt ca incerc zi de zi ma mentine cu zambetul pe buze si cu o stare de spirit demna de invidiat...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;De unde toata bucuria asta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Pentru ca fac ceea ce imi place, pentru ca am cunoscut niste oameni minunati, fiecare special in felul sau, si de la care invat in fiecare zi cate ceva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Si aici nu vorbesc doar despre niste profesori minunati ci si de niste colegi fantastici.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Trecand peste aceste detalii tehnice... ma bucur ca am iesit din starea de lehamite in care ma aflam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Ma bucur ca iubesc nebuneste si nu trebuie sa o zic sau sa o arat, ca am voie sa zambesc fara sa fiu intrebata de ce o fac, ma bucur ca am invatat ca: a fi un om bun inseamna in primul rand sa ai ochii deschisi si sa privesti in jurul tau...dar mai ales sa incerci si sa intelegi ceea ce se inatmpla in jurul tau.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Am invatat ca nu orgoliul te face un om mare ci ambitia, si astia sunt doi termeni diferiti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Cantecul perioadei: John Lenon - Imagine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Just imagine... :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Am observat ca am scris destul de rar aici atunci cand am fost fericita si implinita..uite ca scriu acum ...si daca e asa ..sper sa nu mai scriu niciodata si sa raman asa pentru totdeauna...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Dar cum stim cu toti ca nu se poate... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Pe data viitoare...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: recitind randurile de mai sus am observat ca nu am prea avut logica in ceea ce am scris... iertati-ma si daca vreti logica eu zic sa cautati in posturile anterioare unde scriam cand eram lucida...acum visez...nu ma deranjati e prea frumos....&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/36707873-8982512347961768213?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/8982512347961768213/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=8982512347961768213' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8982512347961768213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/8982512347961768213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/10/asa-i-in-tenis.html' title='Asa-i in tenis....'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/Rxz6nDhn_iI/AAAAAAAAALU/8oTHQtLCmMI/s72-c/3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-40252022853949968</id><published>2007-10-19T00:51:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T01:02:16.544+03:00</updated><title type='text'>40...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RxfVnDhn_hI/AAAAAAAAALM/2qedGFEMcWg/s1600-h/B00006ADFO.01.LZZZZZZZ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RxfVnDhn_hI/AAAAAAAAALM/2qedGFEMcWg/s200/B00006ADFO.01.LZZZZZZZ.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122797968095182354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Pentru cine nu a vazut filmul...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;E un "must"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Dar ca sa nu mai lungim vorba de acum patru zile mi-am propus sa o iau pe urmele personajului principal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;In mare mi-am interzis orice contact cu o persoana de sex masculin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Sarut, atins mai mult decat imi cere scoala zilnic, cat despre alte activitati de gen nici nu se punea pana acum problema deci nu o sa se puna nici de acum (pentru curiosi).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Scopul sa trec de cele 40 de zile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Tema sa respect regulile cu exactitate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Miza inca nu am gasit-o dar o caut intens :))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Imi testez ambitia, puterea de a putea rezista in anumite momente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Va rog numai sa nu incepeti cu pariuri ca-n film pentru ca daca ar fi doar cele enuntate mai sus ar fi prea usor, ca pana la urma de luni de zile nu mai am nicio treaba cu partea masculina din viata mea, dar mi-am propus nici sa nu ma mai las bagata in flirturi sau faze d'astea "din vorbe".. "din priviri"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Cine stie cunoaste :))))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Acestea fiind zise va zic eu mai multe alta data despre ce mai e nou in viata mea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-40252022853949968?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/40252022853949968/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=40252022853949968' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/40252022853949968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/40252022853949968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/10/40.html' title='40...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RxfVnDhn_hI/AAAAAAAAALM/2qedGFEMcWg/s72-c/B00006ADFO.01.LZZZZZZZ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-3662454814382131644</id><published>2007-10-02T23:40:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T23:50:51.269+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Fotbalu' ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Am stat si m-am gandit serios la subiectul asta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Fotbalul e un joc absolut cretin, niste barbati in toata firea stau si se alearga 90 de minute pe teren ca sa prinda o minge si s-o bage in poarta adversa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;E cat se poate de pueril....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Dar oare doar asta e fotbalul??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Neah...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Bani, putere, orgoliu, afaceri murdare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Si mai sunt... microbistii.. care savureaza fiecare pasa, gol etc.. fara sa realizeze pe moment penibilitatea jocului in sine. Oameni care dau bani ori pe bilete, ori pe seminte, pe tot felul de suveniruri cu numele echipei preferate.. dar exista si unii care se tatueaza sau chiar strabat o lume intreaga  pentru un anume meci... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Acestea fiind spuse ca dupa fiecare meci in care sunt dezamagita de scor ma revolt asupra mea ca am puterea sa stau 90 de minute in priza si sa tip la goluri sau sa injur la ratari....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Acestea fiind spuse...again... dupa ce am recunoscut ce a fost de recunoscut ma culc linistita si abia astept un meci viitor sa o iau de la capat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Night 'ol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-3662454814382131644?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/3662454814382131644/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=3662454814382131644' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3662454814382131644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/3662454814382131644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/10/fotbalu.html' title='Fotbalu&apos; ?'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-2116771146139870810</id><published>2007-10-01T00:43:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T01:09:30.619+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre maine</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RwAaM_x0qaI/AAAAAAAAALE/UR7Ri8fEcv0/s1600-h/z45272930.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RwAaM_x0qaI/AAAAAAAAALE/UR7Ri8fEcv0/s400/z45272930.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116117987274041762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Vorbesc despre maine si e azi deja.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Si daca nu vorbim despre maine, pentru ca nu mai avem cum, sa vorbim asadar despre.. astazi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Ieri totul era roz..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Ce minciuna infecta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Nimic nu e roz si nu pentru ca rozul nu mai vrea sa fie roz, ci pentru ca momentan m-am cam suparat pe &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;roz&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;si l-am facut &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;albastru&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Pentru ca nu mai am rabdare sa fiu roz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Pentru ca nu mai am putere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Dar asta a fost ieri..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Azi totul o sa fie roz..pentru ca nu ma consider eu cine stie ce pasare phoenix dar cu timpul am invatat sa renasc din propria-mi cenusa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Cine ma aude ma si crede, asta e partea amuzanta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Asdara ,de ce naiba portocala are coaja amara si inauntru e dulce..sau acra depinde de unde o cumperi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;De ce naiba nu va machiati doar fata???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" class="def" onclick="return searchClickedWord(event);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;MACHIÁJ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-style: italic;"&gt;s. n.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; operaţie de grimare a unui actor, făcută cu scopul de a-i da înfăţişarea cerută de rolul interpretat; machiere.  (&lt;&gt;&lt;i style="font-style: italic;"&gt;maquillage&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;)     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minunata definitie, dar unde scrie ca machiajul se aplica si pe suflet?&lt;br /&gt;Va prostiti imaginadu-va ca sunteti interesanti, ca asta e singurul mod de a iesi dracu' in evidenta, nu aveti puterea sa ridicati o carte in mana si sa o plasati in dreptul ochilor, va e frica sa intrati intr-o librarie ca e prea mult praf si se naste in voi vreo alergie.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e sila de voi si de blogurile voastre in care aveti pretentia ca daca ati folosit 2 cuvinte mai complicate la auz, gata sunteti : "zei"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Despre maine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Maine e deja azi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Si toata furia de ieri, azi a disparut... nu am folosit decat cateva randuri... si gata..totul e iar roz..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Maine.. azi.. incepe facultatea..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Sa fiu sincera pentru mine incep facultatile..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Sperante, vise, iubiri, planuri, ore, secunde, creme, apa, volan, retrovizoare, dorinta, motorina, curaj... el..despre el orice zic nu e bine, asa ca mai bine nu zic nimic, zic doar ca poate nici eu nu stiu sigur cine e el...sau poate stiu mult prea bine!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Noapte buna..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;And wb in my new pink- world... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/36707873-2116771146139870810?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/2116771146139870810/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=2116771146139870810' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2116771146139870810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/2116771146139870810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/10/despre-maine.html' title='Despre maine'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RwAaM_x0qaI/AAAAAAAAALE/UR7Ri8fEcv0/s72-c/z45272930.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1664835063946918279</id><published>2007-09-27T02:55:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T00:48:26.727+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Culorile unei nopti</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RvrxtPx0qYI/AAAAAAAAAK0/QkbMrvfSeig/s1600-h/earth_at_night.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RvrxtPx0qYI/AAAAAAAAAK0/QkbMrvfSeig/s400/earth_at_night.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114666086464530818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Noaptea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Noptile mele sunt nopti simple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Candva cu mult timp in urma, noaptea era momentul in care ma simteam cel mai bine, ieseam in cluburi, bateam strazile pe jos si vorbeam tare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Apoi noptile au devenit cel mai potrivit moment in care reuseam sa ma concentrez asupra materiei... asa  ca toceam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Cateodata pentru ca sa trec peste noapte aveam nevoie de intaritoare, alteori uitam de ele si noaptea trecea fara sa-mi dau seama, printre Rebreanu, Arghezi si Eminescu mereu combinati cu razboaie, Tepes etc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Apoi au venit noptile de nesomn in care ochii nu vroiau sa se inchida, gandindu-ma neincetat la ziua ce avea sa vina, fie ca era vorba de un examen fie de o plecare....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;In fine au venit noptile in care adormeam bustean, se pare ca oboseala are si ea un cuvant de spus in toate astea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Astazi ... incerc uneori sa mai bat cluburile, dar parca nu mai sunt ce erau candva, sau poate nu le mai vad eu asa cum le vedeam candva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Materie nu am inca de tocit, emotiile s-au dus toate, asa ca practic nu-mi ramane decat sa dorm linistita... dar nici asta nu pot, fara un motiv anume...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Asa ca ma urc in masina si pornesc prin Bucuresti, mereu cu acelasi gand  : "sa am grija sa nu apara la stirile de la ora 5"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Ajunsa la Unirea orasul pare pustiu, dar e momentul in care eu ii vad viata si parca il aud cum rasufla usurat dupa o zi plina. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Imi place sa merg pe strazile unde pe la 5.15 dupa-amiza e full...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Am facut ieri 1h si 40min din Romana pana la Bellu... noaptea nu imi trebuie mai mult de ... 10 maxim 15 min...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Iubesc orasul noaptea... si totusi.. poate nefiresc... dupa ce alerg prin Bucuresti, dupa ce ma intrec cu taximetristii sau cu pusti tembeli (ca mine) si dupa ce imi hranesc putin orgoliul meu de "femeie la volan"... ma retrag spre casa, unde strazile pusti nasc in mine o teama nefireasca, atunci dau muzica incet, uneori o inchid chiar.. si ma uit speriata in stanga si-n dreapta... sunt in masina mea inchisa perfect, teoretic nu am de ce sa ma tem... practic inima-mi bate mai tare, parchez si ma gandesc cat de inconstienta sunt si imi trec prin minte toate stirile de la ora 5 : "tanar de 20 de ani, mort noaptea la Unirea dupa ce s-a angajat intr-o intrecere cu masina" ;  "tanara violata intr-un parc din capitala" ;  "femeie omorata in plina strada" ; "fata jefuita si batuta"... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;De ce ma expun, de ce nu ma baricadez in casa, de ce scot capul pe geam dupa ce se insereaza???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;De ce?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Pentru ca intr-o zi chiar si producatorii, redactorii si prezentatorii stirilor de la ora 5 vor trece pragul cabinetului meu de consiliere psihologica si atunci le voi spune ca viata e frumoasa si ca 20,969 de oameni au murit pana acum 15 secunde astazi...si ca numarul lor creste de la o secunda la alta, dar cu toate astea noaptea e frumoasa si blanda...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Recitind tot ce am scris realizez ca pot sa par total ilogica, dar totul se naste dintr-o teama confuza legata de un oras plin de viata la orice ora din zi sau din noapte... un oras pe care-l iubesc si care imi ofera cele mai minunate lucruri din viata mea..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Si cum imi dau voie sa fiu cat vreau eu de ilogica nu ma condamnati asumati-va riscul de a va arunca ochii pe niste ineptii sau evitati sa mai accesati...hai ca a rimat nitel ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Pentru oras, pentru noapte, pentru destin... si astazi.. pentru voi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-1664835063946918279?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1664835063946918279/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1664835063946918279' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1664835063946918279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1664835063946918279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/09/culorile-unei-nopti.html' title='Culorile unei nopti'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RvrxtPx0qYI/AAAAAAAAAK0/QkbMrvfSeig/s72-c/earth_at_night.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-7355437546110236636</id><published>2007-09-25T20:58:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T21:18:51.684+03:00</updated><title type='text'>PoZe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RvlNBfx0qWI/AAAAAAAAAKk/UiR4aHyOUbQ/s1600-h/21092007%28012%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RvlNBfx0qWI/AAAAAAAAAKk/UiR4aHyOUbQ/s200/21092007%28012%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114203539961588066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu mai stim sa fim noi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Invatam in fiecare zi cum sa pozam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si uitam sa zambim pentru ceilalti, nu pentru un obiectiv prafuit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am fost plecata ceva timp din Bucuresti, am sperat ca o sa ma odihnesc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dar ca multe alte planuri si asta a esuat, intorcandu-ma in Bucuresti mult mai obosita, dar cu ceva amintiri si noi sperante si planuri de viitor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Astept cu nerabdare inceputul facultatii si sper sa nu fiu dezamagita.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Acum cred ca e cazul sa ma intorc la subiectul despre care am vrut sa va scriu azi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;M-am "plimbat" putin pe hi5 si am realizat ca suntem extraordinar de narcisisti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu am ajuns la aceasta concluzie doar de pe hi5 dar a contribuit...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Asadar poze: poze facute cu telefonul, poze facute in baie, in oglinda, in intuneric, pe lumina, cu bluza cea noua, in oglinda de la lift, cu buzele rujate, cu adidasii cei noi, poze pe calea ferata, poze sepia, alb-negru....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Poze, poze, poze, poze, poze, poze, poze, poze...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ce ramane dupa noi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;O poza undeva...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pe o noptiera, intr-un portofel, pe un birou, sub o perna... si mai nou albume intregi.. pe net!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sa nu fiu considerata ipocrita cu cele scrise, recunosc ca si eu am un cont de hi5 si il mai acceasez din cand in cand, poate chiar il upgradez... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Numai ca trebuie sa invatam ca nu pozele fac diferenta ... ci faptele... o poza lucrata sau nu... o poza in care lumina a picat bine sau nu ... nu o sa te caracterizeze niciodata mai bine decat un simplu gest, privire sau cuvant... oricat ai poza de bine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pentru toti cei care traiesc pentru ca maine sa aiba ocazia sa mai faca niste poze pentru contul de hi5...uitand sa traieasca  momentul...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;P.S: ...am spus asta..dar prefer sa ma repet...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Obiectivul unei camere de filmat/aparat foto nu o sa poata niciodata sa redea nici imaginea si mai ales emotia pe care ochiul uman o traieste in fata unui om/apus/rasarit...sau in fata unei simple flori :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-7355437546110236636?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/7355437546110236636/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=7355437546110236636' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7355437546110236636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/7355437546110236636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/09/poze.html' title='PoZe'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RvlNBfx0qWI/AAAAAAAAAKk/UiR4aHyOUbQ/s72-c/21092007%28012%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6271158794614409678</id><published>2007-09-14T00:26:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T00:50:30.549+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Vorbim iar de schimbari...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RumrQDoq8kI/AAAAAAAAAKc/WX_5_U60Ohw/s1600-h/colorfulfu1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RumrQDoq8kI/AAAAAAAAAKc/WX_5_U60Ohw/s200/colorfulfu1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109803544570688066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Ohoho...cu siguranta am mai vorbit despre asta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Dar ce sa-i faci.. scriu despre ce mi se intampla, despre ce traiesc, prin ceea ce trec, ceea ce vad, ceea ce imi atrage atentia etc..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Asadar, ca sa-i linistesc pe unii, da blogul asta e despre... mine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Citindu-l orcine poate sa creada ca sunt probabail cea mai narcisista (un mod de a spune...) sau egoista..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Dar cred ca daca fiecare dintre voi si-ar expune un posibil jurnal...ne-am creea o imagine asemanatoare... asadar eu mi-am asumat acest risc, si toate bobarnacele aferente..si va dau totul pe tava... ma rog...acum serios vorbind..nu chiar totul :)).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Sa revin la ceea ce vroiam sa dezvolt azi, un subiect pe care l-am mai abordat :schimbarile!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Mie imi plac la nebunie, fie ca vorbim de schimarea de stil, de coafura, de masina, de telefon sau schimarea de prieteni, sau chiar viata!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Eu am ales sa fac cate putin..sau bine..ceva mai mult..din toate vara asta... si desi nu se incepe asa, am inceput prin  a ma departa de cei care mi-au facut rau (am mai zis asta intr-un post recent, o repet..ca intre timp am mai curatat din agenda o tona de nume).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Apoi mi-am schimabt viata, am deja alte plaunri ceva mai indraznete...planuri care chiar au legatura cu viitorul meu si implicit cu viata mea in totalitate, si sunt planuri care se cer realizate; nu numai planurile au fost schimbate, dar si eu m-am schimbat, nu mai sunt fetita aia care are mereu chef de orice si care asculta pe orcine, am invata sa mai si refuz, am invatat ca in viata nu mergi de mana cu altcineva pana la capat, singura persoana pe care o sa o am pana la capat langa mine sunt eu- nu e narcisim e cruntul adevar!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Si cine stie "noua Ana" e acum mai puternica,mai hotarata, mai abtitioasa, mai muncitoare ... mai deschisa la frumos decat la superficial...si mult mai directa.. (cu toate ca sa fim seriosi, din toate numai asta nu lipsea)... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Nu sunt altcineva, sunt doar eu...dar am crescut, am invatat din greselile..mele si incerc in fiecare zi sa invat cat mai multe din mers... ca la un moment dat...ceea ce a fost candva un schelet de om...sa ajunga un om adevarat...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Pentru toti ce au facut parte candva din Universul meu..nu pot decat sa le multumesc ca m-au ajutat sa invat cat mai multe... si poate candva o sa ma reintorc in vietile lor..si o sa le multumesc asa cum se cuvine...momentan...trec peste ei..nu-i calc..asa cum fac altii..eu doar ii ocolesc pentru ca asa e omeneste si..sanatos!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Ceea ce urmeaza? Cu riscul de a ma repeta...un nou capitol de viata, oameni noi, o lume noua...si toate astea..pentru o noua Ana.. :D..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Cum zicea o persoana draga mie : "totul o sa fie bine! " &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Noapte buna&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6271158794614409678?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6271158794614409678/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6271158794614409678' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6271158794614409678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6271158794614409678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/09/vorbim-iar-de-schimbari.html' title='Vorbim iar de schimbari...'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RumrQDoq8kI/AAAAAAAAAKc/WX_5_U60Ohw/s72-c/colorfulfu1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-4405921689982267243</id><published>2007-09-09T23:53:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T00:18:32.153+03:00</updated><title type='text'>A plecat intercity-ul meu</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;De mult..am spus ca viata e un tren.. nu am fost singura care a facut asemanarea asta, dar in fiecare zi ma conving ca asta e adevarul!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;E ciudat cum oamenii ajung sa se transforme in niste simple cruci.. si ca ceea ce era candva o persoana pe care o iubeam, azi nu mai e decat o cruce unde te duci sa aprinzi o lumanare si unde speri ca cineva te vede!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;E trist.. si poate cel mai trist e ca viata asa cum e ea plina de complicatii, plina de intrigi spectaculoase si de perioade de glorie sau declin...viata asa cum e ea, nu se sfarseste altfel decat intr-o cruce... si la final nu esti decat una din sutele de cruci pe care astazi cimitirul cere atat de multi bani!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;Am inceput acel nou capitol din viata despre care am tot vorbit!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;De data asta am ales sa il incep de una singura, pentru ca fie au fost persoane care m-au tradat intr-un mod sau altul, persoane de care m-am departat pentru ca simteam ca nu imi fac bine, sau persoane pe care le iubeam cu toata forta si poate de asta am preferat sa le las in urma, pentru ca oricat ai crede ca un om este potrivit pentru a sta intreaga viata langa tine, descoperi ca sunt unele detalii care fac totul si fara de care nu poti sa traiesti in pace si liniste langa respectivul/a.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;Asadar am pastrat langa mine doar pe cei  care m-au sustinut asa cum aveam nevoie nu cum considerau ei,care m-au acceptat, m-au sfatuit, au inteles ca sunt poate mai dificila, dar au vazut in mine ca nu pot sa fiu nici rea, nici egoista .. au vazut ca fac totul cu drag, cu dragoste si cu un foarte mare devotament nascut din pasiune..pasiunea pentru invatat, pentru cunoastere!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;Si uite cum..pornesc la drum cu speranta ca viata are un plan maret pentru mine, ca daca nu are mi-l fac eu; dar totodata plec la dum cu o vaga urma de regret pentru tot ceea ce am lasat in urma, dar sper si vreau sa cred ca nu gresesc cu nimic si ca nu o sa ma intorc din drum orice s-ar intampla, pentru ca eu cred ca daca cineva e facut sa ramana in viata mea... chiar viata o sa mi-l  aduca inapoi intr-o buna zi, daca nu..probabil doar atat a trebuit sa stea in "trenul meu" si atunci nu pot decat sa pastrez bine amintirile si sa nu uit niciodata ca cineva a fost candva acolo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;E vorba doar de viata!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-4405921689982267243?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/4405921689982267243/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=4405921689982267243' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4405921689982267243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/4405921689982267243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/09/plecat-intercity-ul-meu.html' title='A plecat intercity-ul meu'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1077592533192014687</id><published>2007-09-07T16:24:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T16:43:54.064+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Inca o zi!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RuFUv-RpXPI/AAAAAAAAAKU/ExmMNRUwa_I/s1600-h/SANY0026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RuFUv-RpXPI/AAAAAAAAAKU/ExmMNRUwa_I/s200/SANY0026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107456635562450162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pentru voi toti , asta nu e decat o zi obisnuita!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poate pe parcurs o sa devina ceva special, sau poate o sa ramana doar "inca o zi"...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pentru mine azi e o zi importanta!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu am scris niciodata, aici, inantea unui eveniment din viata mea, mereu am consemnat aici gandurile, parerile sau consecintele ...legate de evenimente la care am luat parte sau care m-au marcat intr-un fel sau altul!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar uite-ma azi, aici, in fata tastaturii, cu strugurii langa mine si numarand orele pana cand sper ca o sa ajung la facultate si o sa fie afisate rezultatele....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sincer..am lacrimi in ochi acum cand tastez toate astea, pentru ca stiu in sufletul meu care e rezultatul si spre deosebire de voi toti eu nu incerc sa ma mint!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Uite...de luni de zile toti au pe buze replica "o sa fie bine, iei examenul".&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vedeti voi...asta nu face decat sa-mi ingreuneze situatia, pentru ca am dezvoltat o frica teribila.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daca o sa trebuiasca sa vin in fata voastra si sa va zic..."am picat".. eu nu stiu daca o sa fiu surprinsa dar o sa ma doara faptul ca voi ati vazut in mine altceva.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si sincer, nu imi mai pasa de ce parere o sa aveti voi, dar deja ma doare faptul ca nu numai voi ati crezut in mine, ci pana si eu ajunsesem sa cred in mine!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar acum... parca simt rezultatul..si nu e placut...chiar din contra!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inca putin...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-1077592533192014687?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1077592533192014687/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1077592533192014687' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1077592533192014687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1077592533192014687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/09/inca-o-zi.html' title='Inca o zi!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RuFUv-RpXPI/AAAAAAAAAKU/ExmMNRUwa_I/s72-c/SANY0026.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-1304196506963181174</id><published>2007-09-05T19:17:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T19:31:44.567+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Lasati-ma sa-mi dau voie!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vreau sa am voie sa rad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vreau sa am voie sa plang, fara sa trebuiasca sa dau explicatii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vreau sa am voie sa fug de lumea asta ..si sa ma intorc cu zambetul pe buze.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vreau sa am voie sa ma indragostesc in fiecare zi de altcineva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vreau sa am voie sa traiesc doar asa cum imi dicteaza instinctele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lasati-ma sa rad, sa plang, sa fug, sa clachez, sa ma ridic, sa iubesc patimas si sa sufar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu am nevoie de sfaturi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu stiu sa pierd, dar invat in fiecare zi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nu stiu de ce trebuie sa ne ascundem zilnic sentimentele!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;De ce trebuie sa ma mint pe mine si sa nu-mi permit sa iubesc pe cine vreau in modul in care vreau.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;De ce nu ne dam voie sa fim sinceri unii cu altii, si mai presus de toate de ce naiba nu am voie sa tip atunci cand sunt fericita??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Azi sunt fericita, si cine stie..pana maine imi trece..sau chiar in juma de ora e posibil sa-mi treaca...dar nu  vreau sa treaca clipa fara s-o consemnez, pentru ca nu vreau s-o uit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si de ce naiba dupa ce o sa cititi randurile astea o sa-mi cereti explicatii??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oricum cred ca o sa fie prea tarziu si ... o sa uit despre ce am vorbit in blestematul asta de post!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: de ce trebuie sa raspund la telefon??&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/36707873-1304196506963181174?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/1304196506963181174/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=1304196506963181174' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1304196506963181174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/1304196506963181174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/09/lasati-ma-sa-mi-dau-voie.html' title='Lasati-ma sa-mi dau voie!'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36707873.post-6686673317105733169</id><published>2007-09-03T21:44:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T22:04:14.221+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Si ingerii se indragostesc</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RtxWa-RpXOI/AAAAAAAAAKM/IaeN3GNMNdU/s1600-h/cont.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RtxWa-RpXOI/AAAAAAAAAKM/IaeN3GNMNdU/s200/cont.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106051098924899554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;V-am vorbit vreodata despre Rai?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Raiul ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cred ca toti ajungem in Rai si Raiul nu e altceva decat inceputul viitorului...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cred ca in Rai ne cunoastem prietenii, in Rai ne cunoastem sufletul pereche.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ce este viata ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Doar un lung sir de cautari...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ne cautatm prietenii, ne cautatm sufletul pereche.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cand stim ca i-am gasit pe cei langa care stateam in Rai?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Atunci cand simtit ca nimeni si nimic nu poate sa ne mai desparta, atunci cand avem impresia ca stim totul unul despre altul , cu toate ca inca nici nu ne-am vorbit, si chiar si atunci cand ne vorbim avem senzatia ca stim deja tot...&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;de ce?&lt;/span&gt; Pai simplu, le-am vorbit pe toate in Rai deja.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cred ca aceasta cautare inseamna cu adevarat viata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Poate ca scriu ganduri prea complicate, dar probabil e din cauza perioadei prin care trec...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dar va sfatuiesc sa cautati in continuare, pentru ca nu vad ce alt rost ar avea viata...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Si pana la urma situatiile in care suntem pusi, nu fac altceva decat sa ne ajute..sa gasim ceea ce am pierdut in ..Rai!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Daca am gasit ceea ce aveam candva acolo, in Rai?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nici eu nu pot sa stiu...un lucru stiu sigur... doar viata imi poate da raspuns la intrebarea mea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nebunie, extaz, curaj, credinta, putere, dragoste, trumf, generozitate!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am mai spus nebunie??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36707873-6686673317105733169?l=annaz-story.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/feeds/6686673317105733169/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36707873&amp;postID=6686673317105733169' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6686673317105733169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36707873/posts/default/6686673317105733169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annaz-story.blogspot.com/2007/09/si-ingerii-se-indragostesc.html' title='Si ingerii se indragostesc'/><author><name>Ana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01139709683904812006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duSMizu9p1w/TZ-IO6cEMOI/AAAAAAAAAhM/A3edBNWv0fM/s220/SANY0051.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjAkNbBw2RI/RtxWa-RpXOI/AAAAAAAAAKM/IaeN3GNMNdU/s72-c/cont.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367078
