<?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-2022327399664363780</id><updated>2011-10-22T11:51:25.312+03:00</updated><category term='8 ianuarie'/><category term='dorinta'/><category term='vacanta'/><category term='acceptare'/><category term='imposibil'/><category term='baieti'/><category term='oameni'/><category term='fericire'/><category term='vara'/><category term='romania'/><category term='fete'/><category term='obstacole'/><category term='fractura'/><category term='incredere'/><category term='sfarsitul lumii'/><category term='misogin'/><category term='durere'/><category term='vis'/><category term='lume'/><category term='adio'/><category term='barbati'/><category term='iubire'/><category term='2012'/><category term='familie'/><category term='oase'/><category term='aniversare'/><category term='muzica'/><category term='relatie'/><category term='despartire'/><category term='zambet'/><category term='mesaj'/><category term='iarna'/><category term='film'/><category term='dragoste'/><category term='om'/><category term='dezamagire'/><category term='prima iubire'/><category term='viata'/><category term='scrisoare'/><title type='text'>Amprentele gandurilor mele</title><subtitle type='html'>je donnerai ma vie pour t'entendre.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-618285900880558930</id><published>2010-09-17T23:39:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T19:36:59.332+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='incredere'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fericire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragoste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relatie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Buna dimineata.</title><content type='html'>Jaluzelele ma tradeaza si lasa primele raze ale diminetii sa se joace printre genele mele. Duc instinctiv mainile la ochi pentru a-i ajuta sa se deschida. M-am intors inspre el, dar somnul lui nu a fost afectat de lumina palida. M-am asezat pe marginea patului si m-am intins. Am atins cu varful degetelor parchetul rece si m-am ridicat sa plec la bucatarie. Camasa de noapte improvizata dintr-un tricou de-al lui de abia imi ajunge pana la jumatatea coapselor, dar cu toate acestea e cea mai calduroasa pijama. Sunt ciufulita, cu fata brazdata de cute fine lasate de perna. Ma intorc din nou spre el si simt cum ritmul inimii mi se schimba. E singurul care imi face inima sa bata mai tare si mai incet in acelasi timp. Ma duc in bucatarie sa pregatesc cafeaua si micul dejun. Am pus ibricul pe foc, iar atunci am simtit bratul lui in jurul meu si un sarut pe frunte. L-am privit in ochi si i-am soptit un "Buna dimineata!". Si el e ciufulit si cu ochii mici de somn. Simt din nou cum pulsul mi-o ia razna. Nu stiu cum reuseste, dar zambetul lui ma trezeste fara cafea si imi aduce aminte de cel mai frumos vis: cel pe care il traim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-618285900880558930?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/618285900880558930/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=618285900880558930' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/618285900880558930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/618285900880558930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2010/09/buna-dimineata.html' title='Buna dimineata.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-1134179730468747040</id><published>2010-02-08T21:38:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T22:33:05.108+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fericire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragoste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zambet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relatie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Parfum de femeie.</title><content type='html'>Violonistul se juca usor pe corzi, iar pianul rasuna si el pe ritmurile lui Astor Piazzolla. Mi-a zis ca nu vine. Stateam langa o masa cu bauturi si vorbeam cu o doamna in varsta, sorbind din paharul cu vin rosu. Deodata, am zarit-o la capatul scarilor zambind. Buzele rosii ii incadrau dintii perfecti. Ochii ei caprui straluceau la fel ca parul ei negru care era prins intr-un coc lejer la baza gatului. Purta o rochie rosie ce ii sublinia talia. Cand am zarit-o mi-am scapat paharul din mana. Numai zgomotul ascutit al paharului spart m-a trezit la realitate. Si, da. Nu era un vis. A venit cu toate ca eu nu ma asteptam sa o vad. Mi-am cerut scuze doamnei cu care vorbeam si am mers sa vorbesc cu ea. Mi-a zambit timid si si-a cerut scuze ca nu m-a anuntat ca vine. Eram surprins de modul in care arata in continuare si am inceput sa ma fastacesc. I-am luat mana intr-a mea si i-am sarutat-o. Avea cele mai frumoase maini: degetele lungi si pielea atat de catifelata incat nu iti venea sa ii dai drumul. Si-a retras-o usor din stransoarea mea si mi-a furisat un zambet timid. Am luat-o de brat si am plimbat-o mandru prin toata incaperea pana la masa mea. Toti ceilalti barbati din sala au intors capul dupa ea. Ma simteam magulit ca am o asemenea femeie langa mine. Cand ne-am asezat la masa, orchestra a inceput sa interpreteze &lt;em&gt;Libertango&lt;/em&gt;. Cuprins de frumusetea ei si de melodie am invitat-o la dans. S-a inrosit toata, insa nu m-a refuzat. Am luat-o din nou de mana si am dus-o in mijlocul camerei. Mi-am dus cealalta mana pe spatele ei si am tras-o mai aproape de mine. Mi-a inundat tot trupul cu mireasma ei. Si-a asezat si ea mana pe umarul meu si mi-a zambit din nou, insa nu mai era timida acum. Am pornit amandoi inspre dreapta cu pasi marunti. Ne-am oprit, iar ea a facut un cerc cu picorul drept in spate. Am invartit-o usor, iar rochia ei s-a deschis ca o floare, lasandu-i picioarele sa se miste in voie. Apoi am luat-o spre stanga. La final am lasat-o usor pe spate si am privit-o in ochi. Simteam cu se aprinde in mainile mele. Si-a lasat usor gatul pe spate, iar parfumul ei mi-a invadat toti porii. Ma innebunea cum dansa prin mintea mea mirosul ei pur si feminin. Am inchis ochii si am lasat ritmul sa ma poarte. Simteam cum danseaza in mine parfumul ei si o vedeam cu ochii mintii cum se unduieste. Am deschis ochii si am purtat dansul mai departe. Am invartit-o din nou, iar apoi am incolacit-o pe bratul meu si am lasat-o din nou pe spate. M-a patruns din nou tot ceea ce inseamna ea. Doream sa dansez cu ea la nesfarsit, insa orchestra a terminat melodia. Am mers cu ea inapoi la masa. Imi povestea cat de fascinata e de locul acesta sau nu. Nici eu nu sunt sigur. Eram prea ocupat sa ii studiez chipul. Zambea chiar si atunci vorbea, chiar si cand nu ma uitam la buzele ei. Stralucea toata. Era minunata si era langa mine. Am condus-o apoi pana acasa. Era atat de frumoasa in acea seara incat mi-a fost teama sa ii cer vreun sarut. Emana splendoare prin toti porii. Chiar si dupa ce m-am despartit de ea o simteam langa mine. Imi studiam mainile cu care am atins-o si ma gandeam cata onoare pot avea. O vedeam aievea schitandu-mi cate un zambet sau privindu-ma timida. Cel mai bine ii simteam pafumul care inca imi dansa tango in minte. Nu stiu daca muzica a fost devina sau parfumul de femeie... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-1134179730468747040?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/1134179730468747040/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=1134179730468747040' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1134179730468747040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1134179730468747040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2010/02/parfum-de-femeie.html' title='Parfum de femeie.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-1688188729011294177</id><published>2010-01-29T19:49:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T21:25:11.013+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fericire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vara'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dorinta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iarna'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacanta'/><title type='text'>Vreau sa vina vara.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/S2Mj5szHeNI/AAAAAAAAADg/9jdtFUaDH6Q/s1600-h/capus+015(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 129px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/S2Mj5szHeNI/AAAAAAAAADg/9jdtFUaDH6Q/s320/capus+015(1).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432225049724025042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nu iubesc anotimpul acesta deloc. Nu imi place nimic la el. Poate doar cadourile si ziua mea de nastere. Nu are nimic spectaculos, numai niste fulgi de zapada care se topesc orice ar fi.  Nu mai suport hainele groase, cizmele, manusile, nimic din toate astea. Totul e prea nostalgic si aiurea. Nu poti zambi pe strada caci iti ingheata obrajii si ramai cu un ranjet tamp. Nu poti plange caci iti va fi frig apoi. Imi place doar sa simt sarutul fulgilor. In rest nimic nu e frumos la anotimpul acesta. Abia astept sa se dezmorteasca totul imprejur. Mi-e dor de greselile pe care le fac vara fara sa vreau. Mi-e dor de sunetul valurilor care se sparg de tarm. Mi-e dor de sandalele inalte si rochita alba. Mi-e dor de bronzul aramiu. Mi-e dor de noptile nedormite si de flirturile nevinovate. Mi-e dor de dupa-amiezile in care dormeam la umbram pomilor din gradina in hamac. Mi-e dor de cartile de dragoste dupa care plangeam 2 zile. Mi-e dor de tarile straine care sunt pline de baieti draguti. Mi-e dor de cumparaturile interminabile si de cocktailurile cu denumiri ciudate. Mi-e dor sa ma plimb printre case si sa admir florile. Mi-e dor sa numar stelele si sa aseaman norii cu animale. Mi-e dor sa pierd zilele in spatele blocului cu baietii si sa incerc sa inteleg si eu cum se joaca Cruce. Mi-e dor sa joc badmington. Mi-e dor sa ma indragostesc si apoi sa uit fara remuscari. Mi-e dor de parfumul dulce-acrisor. Mi-e dor sa merg la film. Mi-e dor de apus si de rasarit. Mi-e dor de taberele la munte si de serile petrecute in jurul focului. Mi-e dor de costumul de baie si de piscina. Mi-e dor de Anglia si de grupul de italieni. Mi-e dor de tipii care canta la chitara pe strada. Mi-e dor de aerul imbibat cu dragoste si de fluturi in stomac. Mi-e dor de melodiile care mi-au fost dedicate. Mi-e dor sa fac poze aiurea. Mi-e dor sa beau Dr. Pepper si sa mananc mere din gradina de la Capus. Mi-e dor sa exagerez cu zambitul. Mi-e dor sa nu imi pese de timp. Pana va veni vara am sa rezist. Am sa indur toate suferintele posibile si am sa ies invingatoare. Vara va vindeca toate ranile care le-a produs iarna. Vara, te astept!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-1688188729011294177?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/1688188729011294177/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=1688188729011294177' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1688188729011294177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1688188729011294177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2010/01/vreau-sa-vina-vara.html' title='Vreau sa vina vara.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/S2Mj5szHeNI/AAAAAAAAADg/9jdtFUaDH6Q/s72-c/capus+015(1).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-2004032449472151343</id><published>2010-01-10T21:49:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T21:05:33.857+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fericire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='8 ianuarie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aniversare'/><title type='text'>16 ani.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Un nou inceput.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;8 ianuarie 2010. M-am trezit destul de tarziu, cu toate ca trebuia sa fiu la scoala de mult timp. Mi-am permis sa ma intind si eu putin in pat. Simteam niste emotii ciudate, dar nu unice. Wow. Am implinit 16 ani si am slabit 3 kilograme. Mare realizare! Inca un sac de amintiri atarna de fiinta mea acum. O sa am ce sa le povestesc nepotilor. A fost un an bun si nebun. Ma astept la mult mai mult de la anul 2010. In fine... Pana la urma m-am pregatit sa plec si eu la scoala. Urma o zi extra: teza la romana. Aveam o senzatie ciudata in stomac si nu era numai datorita faptului ca nu mai mancam. Nici indragostita nu eram. N-ai cu cine! M-am urcat in lift si imi venea efectiv sa plang. Mi-am bagat castile in urechi si m-am simtit mult mai bine. Cat de bine poate sa faca o melodie. Trebuie doar sa vina la momentul potrivit. Dupa ce am ascultat melodia Happy de la Leona Lewis m-am simtit alt om. Am uitat de tot. Nu ma mai interesa de teza la romana, de oamenii care treceau pe langa mine pe strada. La scoala am debordat de fericire. Va multumesc ca ati fost langa mine! Am avut o zi de nastere superba, cu toate ca nu am petrecut si nu am facut dezmat. Am simtit ca ceva se schimba, ca se schimba in bine. Se spune ca daca ai un inceput bun asa va fi si pe parcurs. Mizez pe aceste vorbe. Anul acesta voi face astfel incat sa fiu fericita chiar daca doare. Am sa traiesc totul la maxim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Va multumesc tuturor celor care v-ati adus aminte de mine si mi-ati urat toate cele bune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-2004032449472151343?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/2004032449472151343/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=2004032449472151343' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/2004032449472151343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/2004032449472151343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2010/01/16-ani.html' title='16 ani.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-4830980417872744906</id><published>2009-12-25T16:49:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T16:23:41.782+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='incredere'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragoste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baieti'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='film'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fete'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relatie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>What a girl wants...</title><content type='html'>Filmul a inceput de cincisprezece minute, dar personajele principale nu sunt prezente. Ea sta si asteapta in fata cinematografului si spera ca poate va veni. Plimba telefonul dintr-o mana intr-alta. A gresit din nou. A ales persoana gresita. E deja a treia oara cand greseste baiatul. Nu mai suporta asteptarea si o suna pe Anda, prietena sa cea mai buna.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Alo! Buna! incerca sa spuna printre suspine.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Uooou! Stai putin... Nu trebuia sa fii la film cu Luca?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-A facut-o din nou. M-a uitat...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Nu se poate. Ticalosul! spuse nervoasa Anda. Vin la tine! Unde esti?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Nu iti fa probleme. Am sa merg acasa.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Asta nu e o problema? Asta e de-a dreptul o urgenta, Maria.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bine. Sunt in fata la cinema.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anda a plecat cat de repede a putut. A luat primul taxi. A lasat-o in fata cinematografului. Maria statea pe o banca cu biletele in mana. Lacrimile ii curgeau siroaie. Anda a luat-o de mana si a dus-o la taxi. Au plecat amandoua la Anda acasa.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Un ceai? o intreba Anda.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Da. Cu lamaie si miere, te rog.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Trebuie sa te descarci, fato. Spune-mi tot!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Esti sigura ca ai rabdare sa ma auzi vorbind chiar atat de mult?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Dar pentru ce sunt prietenii?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ei bine, nu mai pot sa il inteleg. Uita dinadins ca exist? Mereu l-am crezut un baiat extraordinar. Am dat-o in bara dandu-i atatea sanse. Cu siguranta i s-a urcat la cap bunatatea mea.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Cu siguranta nu intelege ce vrea o fata.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Asa cred si eu. E prea orgolios. Nu isi iubeste decat prietenii. Eu sunt ca un trofeu, ceva care sa ii consolideze statutul de baiat ravnit. Asta e ce vrea el si a primit-o. Dar ce vreau eu, chiar nu conteaza? Nu cred ca cer prea mult. Mi-as dori sa imi spuna si mie ca poate sa faca ceva pentru mine. Mi-ar placea sa se tina de cuvant. Gaseste mereu scuze pentru a ma evita. Mereu e prea obosit sa se gandeasca la mine. Nu are timp niciodata.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lasa-l! Isi va da singur seama ca el pierde. Cu siguranta tuturor baietilor le e greu sa inteleaga ce isi doreste o fata. Sunt prea lasi ca sa creada in sentimente.&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-4830980417872744906?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/4830980417872744906/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=4830980417872744906' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/4830980417872744906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/4830980417872744906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/12/what-girl-wants.html' title='What a girl wants...'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-7524954038049194816</id><published>2009-12-20T18:39:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T18:13:13.200+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oase'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='om'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romania'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fractura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='durere'/><title type='text'>Cum sa iti rupi oasele!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Suna foarte ciudat, dar adevarat. Ma gandeam sa abordez un subiect la care sunt as. Nu imi place sa imi rup oasele, dar reusesc sa o fac mereu in moduri fabuloase. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Era anul 2008, final de clasa VIII-a, inceputul vacantei. Mi-am facut o gramada de planuri si aveam o gramada de idei pentru vacanta. Am reusit insa sa o fac lata. Nici nu a inceput bine vacanta, ca numa vad ca mi se umfla incheietura mainii stangi. Super! Am facut-o si pe asta! Am mers la doctor, mi-am facut o radiografie, tot tacamu'. Diagnosticul: fractura prin tasare. "Uau, ce tare is!" mi-am zis in gand. Nu am fost de loc tare! Doar mi-am fracturat osu' ca si copiii de 4 ani si nu oricum. Mi-am rupt mana in SOMN!!! Recomandarea doctorului a fost: atela gipsata pentru 3 saptamani. Indura Bianca mama draga calduri nefaste cu mana in gips. Am plecat in ceva tabara intre timp, tabara la munte, cu trasee complicate, chestii de astea. Ce se hotaraste domnisoara Bianca sa faca? Se catara ea pe stanci, cu mana in gips. Cand a auzit mami ce am facut, am crezut ca nu mai ramane din mine nimic. Am avut noroc cu gipsu', ca daca picam nu mai puteam sa rup nimic. Pana la urma am scapat si de asta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Am ajuns in clasa a X-a. Nu pot sa zic ca am ajuns teafara si nevatamata, ca nu pot sta locului. Zi grea la scoala, teste peste teste. Prima ora a fost educatie fizica. Ne pune profesoara sa jucam baschet. Nu pot zice ca is varza la baschet, da nici Michael Jordan nu is. Am jucat ce am jucat si ajung si eu la minge. Cand sa iau mingea, se loveste frumos de podea si ricoseaza in degetul meu mic. Prima problema a fost sa nu imi fi rupt unghia proaspat manichiurata. Am vazut ca ii bine si am continuat. Ajung la ora de romana si vad ca mi se face degetetul dublu si se invineteste. "Foarte tare frate!"in gandu' meu. "Am facut-o si pe asta!" Ma duc la cabinet. Acolo, o tuta si jumatate, care ma pune sa imi masez degetu' cu ceva crema. Ce scoala de asistente o terminat aia nu stiu, dar si cine i-o dat diploma, nu o fost normal. Urmatoarea ora, test, pe urma alt test. Nu are ce face Bianca si le da. Pana la urma scap de scoala. Ma duc la spital, la urgente sa ma vada si pe mine un doctor. Ce gluma buna si urgentele astea. A trebuit sa merg de 3 ori acolo ca sa ma ia si si cand m-o luat, m-o luat numai pentru ca am avut pile. In fine. Ma duc sa imi fac radiografia si asteptam cu sufletul la gura rezultatul. Intru in cabinet si surpriza, adica nu a fost surpriza, ca ma asteptam. Diagnostic: fractura oblica lunga la falanga medie fara deplasare. Slava cerului ca nu s-o deplasat. Am scapat din nou cu 3 saptamani de imobilzare in atela, dar metalica. Momentan astept sa scap de tacamu asta de pe deget sa pot merge la bulgarit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sper ca acest ghid de a va rupe oasele v-a ajutat. Va urez succes!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Foaie verde bat, n-ai de lucru, fa-ti!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P.S.:Pentru Lorena si Fele sa va puteti distra de mine!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-7524954038049194816?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/7524954038049194816/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=7524954038049194816' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/7524954038049194816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/7524954038049194816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/12/cum-sa-iti-rupi-oasele.html' title='Cum sa iti rupi oasele!'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-8821996913127524990</id><published>2009-11-19T16:34:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T16:35:01.732+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Strani amori.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SvnHk_JF88I/AAAAAAAAACo/GbjI-rY4T4I/s1600-h/hardy_nace_1411804c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SvnHk_JF88I/AAAAAAAAACo/GbjI-rY4T4I/s320/hardy_nace_1411804c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402568666246411202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;EL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ploaia vorbeste soptind. Stai la masa din bucatarie, cu un ceai de lamaie langa tine. Rasfoiesti presa. Iti treci mana pe obraji si constati ca ti-a crescut barba. Sambata sau vineri ai ras-o ultima data? Ce bine era cand ea se aseza in bratele tale si te mangaia pe obraji, spunandu-ti ca adora pielea ta proaspat barbierita. O faceai pentru ea. Din nou ti-a zburat gandul la ea. Privesti pe geam. Nu mai e aburit ca alta data. O fi din cauza termopanelor... Gasesti orice scuza ca sa ti-o alungi din gand. Nu reusesti orice ar fi. Daca nu ar fi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;EA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Parfumul lumanarilor a umplut baia. Cada e plina de spuma. Esti cufundata in ganduri. Iti tii ochii inchisi. Ai senzatia ca te rupe de lumea asta, cand de fapt tu te gandesti la ce a fost. E singurul lucru real pentru tine. Zambesti, deoarece ai senzatia ca te saruta pe gat, dar de fapt e apa care se misca usor in cada. Iti revi in fire si deschizi ochii. Iesi din cada si pui un prosop in jurul tau. Oglinda e aburita. Te uiti atenta la imaginea neclara si nu observi decat chipul lui. Deschizi robinetul de la chiuveta si iti dai repede cu apa pe fata. Stergi oglinda cu mana si te privesti din nou. Ce goala e oglinda! Iesi din baie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;EI&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;E o zi de noiembrie. Nostalgia pluteste printre picaturile de ploaie si patrunde in apartament. El se gandeste la ea. Nu poate scapa de imaginea ei. Fiecare gand e al ei. Ea se relaxeaza. S-a desprins de lumea aceasta de care numai el o mai leaga. Confunda orice vede cu chipul lui si orice o atinge cu mainile lui. Sunt atat de departe, dar totusi atat de aproape. Distanta aceasta ii indragosteste mai tare in fiecare moment. Distanta asta stranie care nu exista...&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&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/2022327399664363780-8821996913127524990?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/8821996913127524990/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=8821996913127524990' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/8821996913127524990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/8821996913127524990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/11/strani-amori_19.html' title='Strani amori.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SvnHk_JF88I/AAAAAAAAACo/GbjI-rY4T4I/s72-c/hardy_nace_1411804c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-3321155649076474731</id><published>2009-11-16T19:55:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T21:21:29.902+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2012'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sfarsitul lumii'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='film'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mesaj'/><title type='text'>2012.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SwGcDtjlfMI/AAAAAAAAADQ/hovMC9D4SSQ/s1600/2012_image.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 177px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SwGcDtjlfMI/AAAAAAAAADQ/hovMC9D4SSQ/s200/2012_image.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404772615403699394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daca e weekend e film si daca e film e CinemCity. De data aceasta nu a mai fost nici desen animat, nici comedie. A fost filmul cel mai asteptat al anului: &lt;b&gt;2012&lt;/b&gt;. Inainte sa apara m-am uitat la trailer de o suta de ori, am intrat pe site-ul cinematografului de o gramada de ori. Pana la urma, vestea se raspandeste: &lt;i&gt;Vineri, 13 noiembrie, &lt;b&gt;2012&lt;/b&gt; in cinematografe.&lt;/i&gt;. Am asteptat momentul acesta cu sufletul la gura.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Daca nu l-ati vazut inca, nu stiti ce ati pierdut!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La ora patru fara un sfert, sambata, am ajuns la Iulius. Din pacate, putin cam tarziu. O coada kilometrica la bilete. Exact asta mai lipsea. De obicei, cand merg la film, in sala sunt maxim trei persoane si la casa de bilete e mereu gol. Cu toate acestea, imi place sa merg mereu prin labirintul acela. Sa revenim insa la filmul nostru. O gramada de lume astepta sa intre la film. Ajunsa intr-un final la ghiseu, SURPRIZA! De unde bilete? Totul era vandut si filmul incepuse de cateva minute. Ce sa fac? M-am interesat de bilete pentru ora sapte. Totul era luat, cu exceptia a trei locuri exact in fata ecranului. Noroc cu vanzatoarea, ca altfel stateam in fata si nici nu intelegeam nimic.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La ora sase jumatate eram din nou prezenta la CinemaCity. Din nou aceeasi poveste. Adica, coada imensa, inghesuiala. Parca lumea nu are ce face in weekend... In orice caz, de data aceasta am prins locuri, chiar in randul 11, la margine. Iar acuma in incepe sfarsitul lumii.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cred ca acest subiect este unul din cele mai importante, gandindu-ma numai la coada care a fost la intrare. Cine nu e interesat de o viziune asupra finalului? Este o tema de-a dreptul fascinanta si plina de imaginatie. Cu toate acestea, mesajul central, cel putin asa am inteles eu, a fost sa nu uiti niciodata de cei din jur. De fapt, modul in care totul se sfarseste e exact dupa meritele fiecaruia. Totul a inceput cu America. De ce America? Pentru ca acolo conduce banul si SUA este una din puterile economice ale lumii. America Latina e plina de coruptie, trafic de persoane, droguri. A urmat Europa. Din nou, un continent care nu face altceva de cat sa promoveze banul si puterea economica. Apoi a venit randul Asiei. Continentul aurului negru, al statiunilor exotice, al muncii fara oprire. Africa? Ce s-a intamplat cu Africa? Ei bine, Africa a fost singura neafectata. Logic gandind, Africa este cel mai sarac continent, motiv pentru care oamenii de acolo nu au fost afectati.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-a placut faptul ca realitatea in care traim a fost expusa in cel mai veridic mod posibil. Toti oamenii care puteau supravietui erau doar niste bogatasi fara suflet. M-a marcat faptul ca presedintele SUA nu a dorit sa plece pe nava, ci a ramas alaturi de poporul sau si in cele mai grele clipe. Asa ar trebui sa procedeze toti conducatorii statelor. Pe urma, existenta oamenilor egoisti, care declara ca fac totul pentru binele tuturor se regaseste in Anheusser. Adrian Helmsley este simbolul bunatatii, la fel si fiica presedintelui. Acestia salveaza mii de vieti. Cu toate acestea, omul datorita carora au aflat ca sfarsitul va veni moare. Jackson Curtis este semnificativ supravietuirii, este un salvator.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si chiar daca va fi asa sau nu, chiar daca mayasii au avut sau nu dreptate, un singur lucru conteaza: sa nu uiti niciodata ca esti om si ca altii ar putea muri din cauza indiferentei tale.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-3321155649076474731?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/3321155649076474731/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=3321155649076474731' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/3321155649076474731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/3321155649076474731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/11/2012.html' title='2012.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SwGcDtjlfMI/AAAAAAAAADQ/hovMC9D4SSQ/s72-c/2012_image.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-1821358734000968357</id><published>2009-11-09T21:52:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T18:33:33.923+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prima iubire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragoste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scrisoare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Scrisoare.</title><content type='html'>Catre cel suferind,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cu toate ca nu mai vrei sa auzi de mine, mai am sa iti spun multe. In primul rand imi pare rau, dar asta nu iarta nimic. Ma doare indiferenta ta si maniera in care abordezi tot ce a fost. Ai fost victima unei iubiri de vara a carei calau am fost eu. Cu toate acestea, eu sunt sigura ca undeva in adancul tau mai simti si tu ceva. Inca mai vad aievea privirea ta atat de calda si zambetul tau jucaus. Mi-au spus multi ca dupa ce ne-am luat adio, le-ai lasat la mine. E tot ce a mai ramas si doua poze care ma ineaca in amintiri. Imi ascund sentimentele in orice ma duce cu gandul departe de tine. Deschid o carte, dar parca acolo esti descris tu. Orice as face te observ mereu in vorbe, gesturi, imagini, chiar daca nu au nicio legatura cu tine. M-ai otravit cu sentimente. Ma trezesc din letargie si realizez cat de mult am gresit. E atat de pustiu totul si fara niciun sens. Mi-as dori sa nu ma fi trezit nimeni din acest vis, dar din pacate am facut-o tocmai eu. Si regret...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te mai vreau inca o data numai pentru mine, dar acum te vreau pentru totdeauna!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                               Cu drag,&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                        Cea care te-a facut sa suferi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-1821358734000968357?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/1821358734000968357/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=1821358734000968357' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1821358734000968357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1821358734000968357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/11/scrisoare.html' title='Scrisoare.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-1227934552654834394</id><published>2009-10-03T21:12:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T21:24:22.821+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baieti'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vara'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacanta'/><title type='text'>Toamna se numara...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... greselile facute vara.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Nu pot sa numesc ceea ce a trecut vacanta. M-am simtit de-a dreptul precum o pensionara care incerca sa isi traiasca adolescenta de mult pierduta. Poate am exagerat putin, dar cam asa a fost. Am lungit fiecare zi pana a doua dimineata, dar nu in ceva club sau pe ceva plaja, ci in fata acestui monitor. M-am indragostit aiurea de un tip mai mare ca mine, ca mai apoi sa distrug orice sentiment pentru el doar pentru o poza. Am suferit in tacere, pentru ca mi-am dat seama ca nu merita nimic. Am fost si la mare. Nimic special nici acolo. Numai trei saptamani am simtit cu adevarat ca e vara. Am intalnit acolo un italian. A fost dragoste la prima vedere, doar ca niciunul nu a avut curajul sa o marturiseasca pana in ultima zi. I-am zis fara ezitare ca sunt romanca, ceea ce l-a determinat sa nu ma mai salute timp de 2 zile. Cu toate ca ar fi iesit ceva, nu am avut curajul sa ii cer adresa de e-mail. Totul a inceput sa capete forma de vacanta inspre final. Insa ce poti schimba?&lt;/span&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/2022327399664363780-1227934552654834394?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/1227934552654834394/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=1227934552654834394' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1227934552654834394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1227934552654834394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/10/toamna-se-numara.html' title='Toamna se numara...'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-3678219607896711260</id><published>2009-08-21T23:03:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T00:35:51.554+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Imitatie de dragoste.</title><content type='html'> La inceput am fost unul. Ne completam perfect. Nu era necesar sa ne spunem "Te iubesc!". Puteam citi dragostea in ochii tai. Nu exageram cu nimic. Iubirea noastra era sarea si piperul vietii mele. Nimic nu ne putea separa. Tu zambeai, eu iti raspundeam cu un sarut. Simteai cand nu mergea ceva bine. Eram mereu langa tine. Puteai zice ca suntem facuti unul pentru altul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Ultimele saptamanii nu mai sunt la fel. Te sarut pe frunte, dar tu continui sa citesti din cartea ta. "Te iubesc! sunt deja doua cuvinte fara sens in viata noastra. Le folosim ca "Buna ziua!". Fiecare zambet e fara rost. Ne iubim si acum pentru ca asa a fost atunci. Dar cu ii pasa? Pasiunea noastra a devenit obisnuinta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Comunicam prin priviri, dar nu stim niciodata de vrem. Ne ascundem sentimentele. Daca nu mi-ai spune ca inca simti ceva pentru mine, as crede ca nu mai contez pentru tine. Ma linistesc stiind ca increderea e uneori chiar mai mare decat dragostea care ti-o port. Si chiar daca relatia asta nu mai functioneaza nici nu vreau sa ma gandesc cum ar fi fara tine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Iubirea noastra e ca aerul si apa. E ceva fara de care nu poti trai, dar care nu conteaza asa mult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div style="width:300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/YSJi1rsv1M"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/YSJi1rsv1M" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="background-color:#E6E6E6;padding:1px;"&gt;&lt;div style="float:left;padding:4px 4px 0 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-3678219607896711260?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/3678219607896711260/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=3678219607896711260' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/3678219607896711260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/3678219607896711260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/08/imitatie-de-dragoste.html' title='Imitatie de dragoste.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-8316015541036135852</id><published>2009-08-18T16:58:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T17:14:26.977+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ucigas de sentimente.</title><content type='html'>Cat de mult imi place cum suna numele tau in bataia vantului! Simt cum ma eliberez de tine cu fiecare silaba care o rostesc printre lacrimi. Ai patruns in sufletul meu ca un drog. Mi-ai taiat respiratia cu privirile tale. Am tanjit dupa fiecare sarut al tau. Ai dat culoare vietii mele. Undeva in adancul tau poate simti si tu asta, dar orgoliul tau de baiat frumos nu se lasa lecuit cu un simplu "Te iubesc!". Te-am vazut cum nepasator mi-ai intors spatele si mi-ai zis "Nu acum. Sunt cu prietenii mei!". Si cat i-am putut invidia pentru simplul fapt ca erai acolo pentru ei oricand... Radeai la orice gluma marsava a lor. Mi-am dat seama ca nu esti decat un alt vanator de fete. Am plecat cu sufletul frant. Imi spuneam continuu ca esti doar un alt ucigas de sentimente. Am fugit pe malul marii sa imi alin suferinta in briza marii. Noaptea se imbina cu ziua. Lacrimile curgeau disparand in mare. Stiam ca acesta e momentul nostru. Nisipul imi scurgea fiecare gram de furie din trup. Sopteam marii numele tau. Fiecare silaba era purtata de mare in departari. Si faceam toate astea ca mai apoi sa se intample acelasi lucru zi de zi. Si acum stiu ca maine ma voi intoarce la tine... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-8316015541036135852?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/8316015541036135852/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=8316015541036135852' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/8316015541036135852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/8316015541036135852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/08/ucigas-de-sentimente.html' title='Ucigas de sentimente.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-499227011290683864</id><published>2009-06-21T22:00:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T22:13:59.273+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragoste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dezamagire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='durere'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Intrebare.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Doare sa iubesti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Ce e prea mult nu e bun niciodata. Ce dureaza prea mult lasa rani adanci in suflet. Ceea ce nu e impartasit ineaca fericirea. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Si totusi, doare iubirea?&lt;br /&gt;Da! Nimic nu doare mai mult decat dragostea. E singurul sentiment care poate sa umbreasca viata. Atunci cand iubesti prea mult nu faci decat sa faci loc pentru mai multa durere. Atunci cand dragostea dureaza prea mult amintirile sunt tot mai frumoase, iar sufletul nu va mai putea de dorul lor. Atunci cand cel iubit nu iti impartaseste sentimentul simti cum lumea se scufunda sub picioarele tale si totul merge prost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Merita sa iubesti oare?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/2022327399664363780-499227011290683864?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/499227011290683864/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=499227011290683864' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/499227011290683864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/499227011290683864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/06/intrebare.html' title='Intrebare.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-1861463204906498714</id><published>2009-06-15T14:08:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T14:21:25.986+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='incredere'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragoste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='familie'/><title type='text'>Cred.</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;Ce ciudat mi se pare. Ce mi se pare ciudat nici eu  nu stiu, dar simt totusi ca ceva nu e la locul lui acolo in sufletul meu. A trecut o gramada de timp de cand locuiesc numai cu mami si cu sora mea, 8 ani buni chiar. Si nu ma mai mira nimic acum, totul e normal: sa vina tati cand are timp sa ne vada, sa ma agat de acele 4-5 ore cat sta cu noi, sa zambesc mecanic, sa spun "multumesc!" fara sa stiu pentru ce i-as multumi. Cu siguranta nu sunt singura pe Pamant? Nu! Spun nu cu incredere. Cred cele 2 persoane care m-au sustinut mereu: mami si sora mea. Si mai cred in dorintele care se vor implini intr-o zi. Lumea asta e plina de rele, dar de ce sa nu vedem si putinul acela bun? Si da, iubesc! Si poate el nu observa, dar eu stiu ca tin la el. Cred in dragostea pe care i-o port, cred in el si in mine!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;CRED!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-1861463204906498714?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/1861463204906498714/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=1861463204906498714' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1861463204906498714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1861463204906498714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/06/cred.html' title='Cred.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-1874956877351585779</id><published>2009-02-14T23:30:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T00:23:09.683+02:00</updated><title type='text'>DOI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.google.ro/url?source=imgres&amp;amp;ct=tbn&amp;amp;q=http://msnbcmedia3.msn.com/j/msnbc/Components/Photos/z_Projects_in_progress/_Ent/05_wintermovies/wintermovies_geisha_hmed.hmedium.jpg&amp;amp;usg=AFQjCNGf-Sz8MJkqFLbMmVb5PiA4Yr5o_A"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://images.google.ro/url?source=imgres&amp;amp;ct=tbn&amp;amp;q=http://msnbcmedia3.msn.com/j/msnbc/Components/Photos/z_Projects_in_progress/_Ent/05_wintermovies/wintermovies_geisha_hmed.hmedium.jpg&amp;amp;usg=AFQjCNGf-Sz8MJkqFLbMmVb5PiA4Yr5o_A" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img2.timeinc.net/ew/dynamic/imgs/080212/Gone-With-The-Wind_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://img2.timeinc.net/ew/dynamic/imgs/080212/Gone-With-The-Wind_l.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OGh1dE-j7EM/Rf8576J_IVI/AAAAAAAAAKM/IiopRoSkPPg/s320/kate_leopold2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OGh1dE-j7EM/Rf8576J_IVI/AAAAAAAAAKM/IiopRoSkPPg/s320/kate_leopold2.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.reellifewisdom.com/files/images/notebook%203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://www.reellifewisdom.com/files/images/notebook%203.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;Traim toti ascunsi sub prejudecatiile unei lumi nebune. Ne-au inghitit tehnologia si resentimentele. Suntem incoltiti de dorinta de putere. Si totusi in viata nu ai facut nimic daca nu ai simtit macar o data atingerea subtila a dragostei.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Iubiti cu totii cuvantul &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;noi&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, deoarece in ele traieste dragostea, pasiunea, sunteti doar doi. &lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Fiecare sarut, atingere, &lt;b&gt;Te iubesc!&lt;/b&gt;, iti innebuneste celulele, iti schimbam ritmul inimii, iti taie respiratia. Si ce daca ei nu se iubesc ca voi? Voi sunteti doi, sunteti &lt;i&gt;noi&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Toate suntem &lt;i&gt;geishele&lt;/i&gt; vreunei inimii, artistele unei povesti de dragoste. Traim atunci, acum si apoi in ode al dragostei care nu se sting doar atunci cand &lt;i&gt;noi&lt;/i&gt; devine iar &lt;i&gt;tu&lt;/i&gt; si &lt;i&gt;eu&lt;/i&gt;. Ploaia se scurge prin venele voastre, topindu-va amintirile: prima imbratisare, primul "Te Iubesc!", primul sarut. Sunteti &lt;b&gt;doi&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-1874956877351585779?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/1874956877351585779/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=1874956877351585779' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1874956877351585779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1874956877351585779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/02/doi.html' title='DOI'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OGh1dE-j7EM/Rf8576J_IVI/AAAAAAAAAKM/IiopRoSkPPg/s72-c/kate_leopold2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-5535575862998158579</id><published>2009-02-10T14:27:00.011+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T09:59:47.785+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fericire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragoste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='om'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zambet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Cat de perfect poate fi un zambet?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sl.glitter-graphics.net/pub/186/186658vp0q0tyz0g.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px -120px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://sl.glitter-graphics.net/pub/186/186658vp0q0tyz0g.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sl.glitter-graphics.net/pub/1486/1486528y0rc1xe8m6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 100px 10px 10px -120px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://sl.glitter-graphics.net/pub/1486/1486528y0rc1xe8m6.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sl.glitter-graphics.net/pub/543/543715cryje16urz.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 200px 10px 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://sl.glitter-graphics.net/pub/543/543715cryje16urz.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suntem cu totii inspirati de lumea intreaga. Imprumutam gesturile, cuvintele, tinuta. Insa exista ceva ce nu putem imprumuta de la nimeni: &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;zambetul&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. Zambetul fiecaruia e unic. E intruchiparea bucuriei, dragostei. E tot ceea ce aarlti nu vor putea lua vreodata de la noi. Dintele ciobit sau aparatul dentar, strunga sau dintii incalecati, toate sunt perfecte atunci cand zambesti. Surasul ascunde tristetea, sustrage din noi supararile, problemele, triseaza in jocul vietii, inoada destine. Fericirea si iubirea sunt sentimentele perfecte care salasluiesc inauntrul nostru si care nu pot iesi din noi, decat atunci cand zambesti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Zambetul naste sperante!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-5535575862998158579?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/5535575862998158579/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=5535575862998158579' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/5535575862998158579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/5535575862998158579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/02/cat-de-perfect-poate-fi-un-zambet.html' title='Cat de perfect poate fi un zambet?'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-115578706559274137</id><published>2009-02-01T17:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T23:28:58.104+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='despartire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adio'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragoste'/><title type='text'>Sentiment</title><content type='html'>Cat mi-e de greu sa spun adio. Trebuie sa recunoastem ca povestea noastra este scrum. A fost o tigara care se imprastia pe drum. Eu eram tutunul, tu erai invelisul meu, iar cei din jur erau scanteia care ne ardeau fiecare sentiment. &lt;br /&gt;    Pretutindeni te vedeam doar pe tine. Ce vedeai tu nu stiu. Poate o vedeai pe ea in mine sau pe mine in ea. Ea tragea scanteia mai aproape de final. Vroia sa ne topim. Sa ardem si ultima farama de iubire. &lt;br /&gt;    Nu am sa spun da a doua oara. Am sa las totul sa se imprastie in mintea noastra.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-115578706559274137?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/115578706559274137/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=115578706559274137' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/115578706559274137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/115578706559274137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/01/sentiment.html' title='Sentiment'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-927672343076140609</id><published>2009-01-20T16:28:00.008+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T21:17:45.303+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prima iubire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fericire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muzica'/><title type='text'>Jurnal. Muzica.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SXXnxAsxKsI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Yq-F-gmGC4/s1600-h/bya+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SXXnxAsxKsI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Yq-F-gmGC4/s200/bya+021.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293391766231263938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inca imi taie respiratie gandul ca nu mai fac vioara. Instrumentul acela a devenit o parte din mine. Scoala aceea si oamenii ei sunt o parte din mine. Privesc cu jind partiturile, mangaind corzile unei viori imaginare. Mi-e dor de tocul acela negru care m-a impovarat opt ani la rand. Nu vreau sa inteleg ca s-a terminat. Concertele inca se mai joaca prin mintea mea. Nu am sa uit niciodata cum uram sa exersez si cat de mult imi doream sa se termine o data. Dar poate s-a terminat prea brusc. Simt cum ritmul demential al arcusului urca prin bratul meu atingandu-mi inima. Ma dezmierda doar amintirile care se prafuiesc undeva in ascunse in mintea mea. Mai era si corul si turneele. Scena Casei de cultura a studentilor si sala mereu pe jumatate plina, toate acestea imi picteaza in sange picaturi amare de dor. Melodiile noastre aproape perfecte si spectacolele ce le faceam inca mai domnesc in adancul sufletului meu. Le aud si acum tipetele asurzitoare, incercand sa evadeze. Pregatirile, nervii, ritmul sau pur si simplu muzica m-au lipit de o lume atat de imperfecta, dar totusi atat de iubitoare. Primul cantecel, prima scartaiala pe care am produs-o cu vioara raman pecetluite in sufletul meu. Am sa ma intorc mereu inapoi la ele. Am sa imi amintesc cu drag totul. Inclusiv lacrimile pe care le-am varsat. Si n-am sa las recitalul sa fie adio-ul pe care il spun lumii muzicii.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-927672343076140609?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/927672343076140609/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=927672343076140609' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/927672343076140609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/927672343076140609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/01/jurnal-muzica.html' title='Jurnal. Muzica.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SXXnxAsxKsI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Yq-F-gmGC4/s72-c/bya+021.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-5285103416253334595</id><published>2009-01-10T21:06:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T21:06:54.651+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragoste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Pierre. El.</title><content type='html'>Imi amintesc cu greu clipa in care l-am cunoscut, dar totusi reusesc sa il vad printre cuvintele romantice pe care le spunea. Era inalt, slab si mereu foarte bine imbracat. N-am sa uit niciodata parfumul sau barbatesc care se juca prin simturile mele si paltonul lung, bleumarin. Eram ca doi visatori. Ne iubeam si traiam fiecare sentiment pana il epuizam. Nu eram perfecti, dar impreuna completam acel cerc. Eu eram micuta si slaba, satena cu ochii verzi si trasaturi frumoase de rusoaica, dar timpul si-a lasat amprenta asupra frumusetii mele. El era brunet si avea ochii caprui. Nasul mare ii izvora usor din frunte si cobora usor spre santul de deasupra buzelor. Imi pierdeam mereu manuta mea cea mica si firava in a lui. Era un adevarat francez. Camera lui era plina de carti invelite in piele, iar pe biroul sau gaseam mereu vrafuri de foi scrise. Era pasionat de limbi, mai ales de rusa. Imi scria mereu poezii de dragoste intr-o rusa perfecta care se terminau mereu cu: "Tanyei mele, pentru totdeauna Pierre". Incercam sa ii raspund cu scrisori siropoase in franceza. Greseam mereu. Ma simteam un nimic pe langa el. Stia sa patineze, sa cante la pian si sa vorbeasca multe limbi. Eu stiam doar sa patinez. Cred ca asa ne-am si intalnit. La unul dintre concursurile de patinaj artistic. Atunci am reusit pentru prima data sa fiu mai buna decat el. Dar si atunci mi-a zambit. Imi amintesc si acum nasul lui imperfect si ochii mari. Imi zambea stramb, cu jumatate de gura. Avea o multime de defecte, dar il iubeam asa cum era. Reusea mereu sa completeze fizicul lui respingator cu mentalitatea romantica, de francez incurabil. Stiam ca el va fi pentru totdeauna baiatul visurilor mele...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-5285103416253334595?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/5285103416253334595/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=5285103416253334595' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/5285103416253334595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/5285103416253334595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/01/gregoire-el.html' title='Pierre. El.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-5202271015450564351</id><published>2009-01-09T22:23:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T22:39:43.171+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>Perpetuum.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.gadgets-gifts-toys.co.uk/USERIMAGES/newton's%20cradle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 280px;" src="http://www.gadgets-gifts-toys.co.uk/USERIMAGES/newton's%20cradle.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;sofron, ardei&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;si ingerii mei.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;durere, pacat&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;ambele- fard.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;zambete, aberatii&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;si multe distractii.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;perfecti niciodata&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;intr-o lumea moarta.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;sfarsind nebuneste&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;ajungand ca un peste&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;trantiti pe uscat&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;speriati de pacat.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;porniti spre final,&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;un final fatal.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;buna seara, moarte!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;si-alte mii de soapte.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;buna ziua, soare!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;nimeni nu moare.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-5202271015450564351?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/5202271015450564351/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=5202271015450564351' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/5202271015450564351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/5202271015450564351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/01/perpetuum.html' title='Perpetuum.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-1365667914596250177</id><published>2009-01-08T20:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T22:23:29.799+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='om'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='8 ianuarie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aniversare'/><title type='text'>Zi de nastere.</title><content type='html'>E pura nebunie. Ma trezesc nauca si totul e gol. Imi simt fiecare os crescand infint. Probabil e un hazard mai mare decat ma asteptam sa fie. E o zi magica. Aerul miroase a viata, iar pamantul zboara mai lent. Simt fiecare inspiratie si mi-o intiparesc adanc in minte. Vreau sa imi aduc aminte inclusiv pulsul care imi largeste incetul cu incetul fiecare vena. Sunt zambete fara nicio noima peste tot. Utopicul e defapt real in aceasta zi. Eu ma schimb, si totusi sunt aceeasi. Fiecare celula imi imbatraneste. Depasesc granite de neinchipuit si trec intr-un final de linia de sosire. Azi sunt o invingatoare. Sunt o invingatoare pentru toate clipele care au incercat sa se opuna castigului meu, dar care acum stau si aplauda undeva in mintea mea. E frumos. E unic. E ziua mea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-1365667914596250177?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/1365667914596250177/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=1365667914596250177' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1365667914596250177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1365667914596250177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/01/zi-de-nastere.html' title='Zi de nastere.'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-6523983488467302002</id><published>2009-01-05T16:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T19:15:36.641+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oameni'/><title type='text'>Noutati stiintifice</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;Dragi cititori,&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br&gt; In lumea noastra perfecta s-au dezvoltat noi subspecii ale speciei umanoide Homo erectus, care, spre surprinderea tuturor, numai in Romania exista. Asa cum ii spune si numele speciei "erectus" este vorba despre oameni care au parte de erectii dese si necontrolate, mai pe romaneste li se scoala cand nu trebuie. &lt;br&gt;Sa continuam insa cu descoperirea facuta. Subspeciile descoperite de specialistii nostri, adica de specia umanoida Homo sapiens sapiens, sunt recunoscute sub numele de "cocalari", "ghertoi" si "hahalere". Toate acestea va vor fi descrise mai jos cu lux de amanunte, insa inainte sa clarificam de unde se trag aceste specii. In urma unor studii s-a ajuns la concluzia ca in urma cu cativa ani a avut loc un schimb de creiere intre cel al unei gaini si cel al unui om. Ideea era observarea schimbarilor ce au loc si daca specia umana ar putea fi afectata daca s-ar face astfel de operatii. Din nefericire omul caruia i-a fost transferat creierul de gaina a avut parte de reactii adverse si nu s-a putut face nicio interventie pentru salvarea lui. Astfel acesta a raspandit in intreaga Romanie un comportament bizar insa foarte apreciat de cei subdezvoltati mintal si care inghit orice.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa trecem la descrierea celor trei specii. Cocalar, provenit din jargonul romanesc se mai traduce, pentru cei care nu l-au auzit inca, si prin persoana de cartier, fara cultura, ce prefera manelele in schimbul muzicii de la BUG Mafia. Pot fi recunoscuti foarte usor. Masculii obisnuiesc sa poarte pantaloni de trening mai toata ziua, vara poarta tricouri sau maiouri albe, iar iarna pot fi recunoscuti printr-o caciula mazgalita marca "piata cea mai apropiata". Nu ii vei auzi pronuntand macar o fraza fara a folosi macar o injuratura. De obicei sunt organizati in ciurde in fata blocurilor sau in scarile acestora, cu un munte de coji de seminte in fata si cu un telefon din care rasuna maneaua lunii. Femelele nu se remarca foarte usor. Au deobicei fata stearsa si ies foarte rar din casa. Cand ies te speri de fetele lor triste si manjite cu rimel de la ultima telenovela. Nici ele nu sunt mai prejos decat masculii aceleasi specii. Folosesc injuraturi foarte des si se organizeaza in ciurde, rareori vazandu-le in preajma ciurdelor de sex masculin.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cea de a doua subspecie descoperita de savantii nostri este cea a ghertoilor sau cocalarilor eleganti. Acestia sunt foarte asemanatori subspeciei descrisa mai sus. Diferenta o fac doar hainele si locurile pe care le frecventeaza. Masculii poarta deobicei pantaloni largi si frecati cu smirghel, pantofi negri de piele sintetica cu "spitul" alungit daca se poate intors si tricouri mulate cu logo-uri enorme cele mai folosite fiind: DEL PUTA MADRE, DULCE &amp; CABANA, CUCII. . De obicei sunt toti mai prajiti si au un mod special de a-si aranja parul, acesta fiind si cartea de vizita a unui ghertoi. Dupa ce s-au imbracat, baga capul intr-o galeata de gel iar apoi se ridica brusc. Pentru a crea o senzatie de neted si lins de vaca il dau pe tot pe spate lasand autostrade de scalp nespalat la vedere. Cand vei trece pe langa ei parfumul de lacrimioara iti va muta nasul. Asculta si ei manele, doar ca nu la coltul blocului ci in mijlocul strazilor, in autobuze sau in orice alt loc public. Cand vorbesc la telefon, spun un "alo" atat de tare incat sa atraga atentia asupra lor. Cei smecheri il spun inca dinainte sa duca aparatul la ureche. Folosesc cuvinte pe care le aud la televizor fara sa stie ce inseamna. Sunt mereu zambareti, deoarece doresc sa scoata in evidenta dantura aurita. Femelele acestei subspecii se deosebesc cel mai bine. Sunt toate blonde cu o autostrada lata bruneta. Trebuie sa felicitam aceste femei care au recunoscut ca sunt prea proaste pentru a fi brunete. Poarta decoltee adanci, fuste foarte scurte sau pantaloni foarte mulati, au unghiile de 15 cm si sunt fardate strident. Pot fi gasite in doua locuri: ori pe soseaua de centura ori in oras cu cate un ghertoi de mana. Putem observa astfel apetitul nebun de reproducere al acestei subspecii prin distanta dintre cele doua picioare ale femeii care trebuie sa recunoastem este foarte mare. Putem spune ca aceste femei au fost mai vizitate de cat orice alt muzeu din lume. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In cele din urma, ultima specie descoperita, hahalera. Cuvint provenit din limba prostiei. Aceasta specie este inca in extindere, insa toti apar numai dupa ce sunt strigati de catre regele Hahalea. Acesti oameni se remarca prin gestul foarte des facut prin aer cu degetul mare si cel aratator intins creand astfel o senzatie de numarare a banilor. Majoritatea acestor persoane sunt fosti ciobani care au facut avere cu vinderea de oi sau alte animale domestice. Folosesc un limbaj specific, care variaza de la o persoana la alta. Extinderea acestei specii este monitorizata de catre savantii nostri, care au ajuns la concluzia ca in momentul de fata exista in jur de 10 becali/m&lt;sup&gt;2&lt;/sup&gt;. Sa speram ca aceasta extindere se va opri intr-o zi.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asadar, ma bucur ca am avut ocazia sa va prezint cele trei noi forme de oameni care se dezvolta la noi in tara. Trageti voi concluziile de aici.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-6523983488467302002?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/6523983488467302002/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=6523983488467302002' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/6523983488467302002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/6523983488467302002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2009/01/noutati-stiintifice.html' title='Noutati stiintifice'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-3798515896097293778</id><published>2008-12-30T23:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T22:10:25.095+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragoste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='barbati'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misogin'/><title type='text'>Misoginul perfect</title><content type='html'>Sta la stop zambind nonsalant. E chipes. Are ochii caprui si parul usor ravasit, castaniu. Cauta cu privirea pe strada, pierzandu-se in orizont. Isi ridica bratul cu gesturi atente. Trage maneca camasii galbene si se uita la ceas. Bate cu varful piciorului un ritm sfredelitor. Doua femei trec pe langa banuindu-l. Le surade trufas si traverseaza. Se aseaza la o masa. Face un semn unui chelner tanar. Cere un cocktail cu vodka si o apa plata. Isi plimba ochii ca un girofar printre mesele acelea. Observa o tanara roscata. O priveste insistent parca incercand sa o introduca intr-un joc nebun. Ridica mana, iar chelnerul apare la masa. Ii da un bilet si ii arata femeia. In cateva secunde, roscata se asaza alaturi de barbat. Incepe o conversatie banala despre puterea barbatului in societatea contemporana. Povesteste despre femeile pe care le-a cucerit la viata sa si despre modul in care le-a lasat. Se lasa tradat de niste cuvinte vulgare, iar femeia se ridica de la masa. Ii adreseaza in continuare fraze injositoare si lasa o bancnota de 50 de lei si pleaca. E prea obosit sa isi mai incerce norocul azi. Roscata aceea i-a terminat toate ideile. Se urca in jeep-ul sau si porneste pe strazile orasului. Oricum femeile nu merita niciun efort. E prea barbat pentru ele!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-3798515896097293778?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/3798515896097293778/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=3798515896097293778' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/3798515896097293778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/3798515896097293778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2008/12/misoginul-perfect.html' title='Misoginul perfect'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-2570291937840465910</id><published>2008-12-16T17:32:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T17:56:38.782+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fericire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='om'/><title type='text'>Reteta Fericirii</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.squidoo.com/resize/squidoo_images/-1/draft_lens1938996module9169178photo_1208536604great_smile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://static.squidoo.com/resize/squidoo_images/-1/draft_lens1938996module9169178photo_1208536604great_smile.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;center&gt;Se iau lacrimi si se pun la fiert la caldura unor cuvinte si se lasa sa se evapore in aer. Se decojeste &lt;font size="+1"&gt;un kilogram de amintiri&lt;/font&gt; si se asaza la copt la temperatura mintii. &lt;font size="+1"&gt;Visele&lt;/font&gt; se paseaza usor, obtinand astfel o pasta delicioasa. Se adauga un &lt;font size="+1"&gt;"multumesc"&lt;/font&gt; pentru gust, iar apoi se intinde pe &lt;font size="+1"&gt;o felie de ganduri&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font size="+1"&gt;pasta viselor&lt;/font&gt;. Se scot amintirile de la copt si de asaza frumos pe felia de ganduri. Totul se serveste cu un &lt;font size="+1"&gt;zambet&lt;/font&gt;. Iar pentru cei pofticiosi este permis si un &lt;font size="+1"&gt;ras cristalin&lt;/font&gt; sau o &lt;font size="+1"&gt;imbratisare&lt;/font&gt;.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-2570291937840465910?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/2570291937840465910/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=2570291937840465910' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/2570291937840465910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/2570291937840465910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2008/12/reteta-fericirii.html' title='Reteta Fericirii'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-1207720301207775906</id><published>2008-12-11T11:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T11:57:09.326+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acceptare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='om'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lume'/><title type='text'>Poti sa ma intelegi?</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://dl7.glitter-graphics.net/pub/128/128417dyh6auioqq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 500px;" src="http://dl7.glitter-graphics.net/pub/128/128417dyh6auioqq.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Pot sa zambesc oricat de greu mi-ar fi. Pot sa rostesc orice cuvant vreau si pot sa iubesc orice. In schimb nimeni nu intelege de ce eu pot si ei nu...&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Sunt o bucata de lume vie care nu isi gaseste locul in normal. Imi fac tipare noi si mereu sunt EU!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Nu sunt un rau care se risipeste intr-o mare. Nu sunt pamant sa fiu calcata in picioare. Nu sunt un copiator ieftin.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Sunt mereu deasupra&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Sunt o bucata de cer. Sunt asa cum tu nu poti sa fii.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Sunt o inima ascunsa in neant si numai cei ce stiu cum sa o gaseasca o pot si avea&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Aviz amatorilor care nu stiu sa aiba grija de ea&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Infinitatea ideilor mele poate musca din ambitia ta prosteasca&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Iubeste-ma asa cum sunt!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-1207720301207775906?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/1207720301207775906/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=1207720301207775906' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1207720301207775906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1207720301207775906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2008/12/poti-sa-ma-intelegi.html' title='Poti sa ma intelegi?'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-8616363582422105284</id><published>2008-12-05T21:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T23:42:14.731+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imposibil'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relatie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iubire'/><title type='text'>Nebunie...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Era soare... &lt;/br&gt;Eram amandoi...&lt;/br&gt;Poate ca nu ne interesa ce ziceau ei...&lt;/br&gt; Ce prostie!&lt;/br&gt;Amandoi ne-am pierdut timpul cautand ceva ce nu aveam. Nu stiu nici acuma daca eram eu sau erai tu. Poate erau dorintele unei iubiri imposibile prea arzatoare.&lt;/br&gt; Degeaba incerc sa gasesc o explicatie acum. Te-am cunoscut atunci!&lt;/br&gt; Ne-am placut sau cel putin eu...&lt;/br&gt; Si acum stiu cum am gresit: te-am crezut!&lt;/br&gt; Cred si acum ca nu ma pot satura de acele cuvinte fara sens care ni le sopteam. Le spuneam de dragul de a le spune.&lt;/br&gt; Si totusi ceva a fost...&lt;/br&gt; Ceva care acum nu mai are rost!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-8616363582422105284?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/8616363582422105284/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=8616363582422105284' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/8616363582422105284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/8616363582422105284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2008/12/nebunie.html' title='Nebunie...'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-1582183369681662087</id><published>2008-11-25T17:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T23:42:58.181+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ganduri scurte...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SSwZqxaqrpI/AAAAAAAAABI/y928WUIDwU4/s1600-h/bia+209.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SSwZqxaqrpI/AAAAAAAAABI/y928WUIDwU4/s400/bia+209.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272617486354394770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;...m-am aruncat pe iarba si mi-am lasat gandurile golase sa se imprastie. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-1582183369681662087?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/1582183369681662087/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=1582183369681662087' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1582183369681662087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/1582183369681662087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2008/11/blog-post_25.html' title='Ganduri scurte...'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SSwZqxaqrpI/AAAAAAAAABI/y928WUIDwU4/s72-c/bia+209.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-4649303607446398630</id><published>2008-11-24T22:20:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T17:02:55.618+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obstacole'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oameni'/><title type='text'>si poate am sa mai gresesc...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SSsTP7oXWUI/AAAAAAAAABA/a5O7Oi-HO_k/s1600-h/bia+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SSsTP7oXWUI/AAAAAAAAABA/a5O7Oi-HO_k/s320/bia+012.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272328953193257282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Si inca o zi se pierde in neant... Orizontul a incremenit mut pe cerul indoliat. Eu, sapte stele si luna mai cutezam sa deranjam intunericul. Cuprinsa de sentimente ma intind pe o banca rece si doar hanoracul imi mai tine de cald si o caciula veche aruncata pe varful capului la intamplare. Am senzatia acelor cuvinte sfredelitoare care le spuneau cu ironie colegii pentru a o imita pe profesoara de romana: "Ai vorbit, ai murit!". Halucinant, trec dintr-o lume intr-alta si ma scufund in nevoile firesti: o mangaiere, o vorba buna. Dar e prea tarziu acum. Am ales altceva mai insignifiant. Am ales o lume din care nu apartin si care incearca sa ma accepte. Ma zbat sa ies la suprafata si simt cu o forta ma impinge inapoi in adancuri. Pare ciudat, dar o inving mereu si ies de fiecare data afara si scufund inamicul. Le arat ca nu ma las batuta, ca sunt o invigatoare. Imi tiparesc cuvantul "OPTIMISM" in peretii celulor mintii si continui drumul meu prin viata. Ma lovesc de jocurile murdare ale lumii muritoare. Cladesc lumi inocente si pline de putere si sar peste treptele durerii. Si poate ca am gresit din nou. Am uitat din nou cheia si o iau pe alte poteci si ma chinui sa reusesc. Pana la urma si maine e o zi, dar traiesc clipa la maxima caci nu stiu cat de lunga e ziua de maine. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-4649303607446398630?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/4649303607446398630/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=4649303607446398630' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/4649303607446398630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/4649303607446398630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2008/11/si-inca-o-zi-se-pierde-in-neant.html' title='si poate am sa mai gresesc...'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SSsTP7oXWUI/AAAAAAAAABA/a5O7Oi-HO_k/s72-c/bia+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-4384972136081019902</id><published>2008-11-18T07:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T21:27:37.720+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oameni'/><title type='text'>Straini</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SSHFSNcKI_I/AAAAAAAAAA4/tSWjozoYOu4/s1600-h/bya+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SSHFSNcKI_I/AAAAAAAAAA4/tSWjozoYOu4/s320/bya+003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269709955636274162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Noapte. Zgomot. Ma pierd pe strazi impleticite. Luminile oarbe stapanesc intunericul. Masinile zboara pe strazile betonate. Caldura zilei se evapora prin porii noptii. Umbre halucinante se pierd dupa copacii chei. Libertatea zboara in aerul poluat gata sa se agate de primul trecator. Trec pe langa ea si ma ignora. Simt incontinuare o cusca de amintiri peste sufletu-mi tanar. &lt;br /&gt; E prima oara cand ies din tiparele vietii cotidiene. Stiam totul, dar acum, pierduta in vesmantul noptii, nu recunosc nimic. Culorile reci si sumbre au impachetat intreaga zona. O bucata de lamaie se pierde intre condimentele cerului. Covorul de frunze zboara haotic printre picioarele mele. Un vant nou, necunoscut imi acopera chipul infierbantat de dorinta de a cunoaste. Pluteam. Nu eram eu. Sau eram? &lt;br /&gt; Paisprezece ani, noua luni si douazeci si trei de zile. Cu fiecare clipa simt ca ma departez de tot ceea ce inseamna eu. Pierd din esenta cu care m-am nascut. Am uitat acel inceput viu cu care am aparut in lumea aceasta plina de pacat. Vreau sa infrunt pacatul sau sa il accept? De fapt eu ce sunt? Sun intrebarile macinatoare care m-au indepartat de mine. Mi-am schimbat dorintele. Vreau sa descopar noaptea. Vreau sa traiesc noaptea. Ma simt ca un animal de prada care asteapta aparitia lunii pentru a explora splendorile intunericului. Sunt alta.&lt;br /&gt; Ritmul urban se pierde in noapte. Nu imi mai e teama de nimic. Am crescut. Am crescut in ochii mei si in mine insami. Ador luminile calauzitoare care picteaza cladirile in jocuri mutilate de trecerea timpului. Dispare. Se opreste in sticla moderna a noilor cladiri. Fara valoare. Si ma vad cazand de sute de ori dintr-un pat exact in fata unei asemenea monstru. Imi surprinde toate defectele agravate de lumina stinsa. Simt cum ia ceva din mine si duce dincolo de geamurile fumuri. Nu ma intereseaza. E un joc de fapt. Si ce? Nu ma joc cu straini. Asa m-a invatat mama. Mama? Si ea e un strain. Toti ne schimbam si ajungem straini pentru noi insine. Iar apoi disparem, imprastiati de freamatul  vremii si toti ne uita. Doar noi mai stim despre noi si cine am fost. Doar noi, care suntem niste straini. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-4384972136081019902?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/4384972136081019902/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=4384972136081019902' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/4384972136081019902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/4384972136081019902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2008/11/straini.html' title='Straini'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9Zq2ZOpicPo/SSHFSNcKI_I/AAAAAAAAAA4/tSWjozoYOu4/s72-c/bya+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2022327399664363780.post-5335264895449938355</id><published>2008-11-17T08:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T21:27:52.247+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viata'/><title type='text'>3 clipe pentru o minune</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.photo-sensation.com/images2/NewBornBareB&amp;amp;W.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 504px; height: 386px;" src="http://www.photo-sensation.com/images2/NewBornBareB&amp;amp;W.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;3 clipe pentru o minune &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;O caldura interna imi proteja trupul fraged. Ma hraneam cu dragoste, pana ce o forta necunoscuta m-a aruncat in bratele lumii. 8 ianuarie 1994. Ora 6 A.M. Niste maini sterilizate m-au cuprins, iar apoi o fata ascunsa m-a examinat atent. Era alb, dar nu era ingerul meu. Ingerul meu este acea persoana care atunci cand m-a tinut prima oara in brate mi-a linstit sufletul zbuciumat de lumea plina de pacat. Si acesta a fost doar inceputul... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2022327399664363780-5335264895449938355?l=biancapopmaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/feeds/5335264895449938355/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2022327399664363780&amp;postID=5335264895449938355' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/5335264895449938355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2022327399664363780/posts/default/5335264895449938355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biancapopmaria.blogspot.com/2008/11/blog-post.html' title='3 clipe pentru o minune'/><author><name>Bibi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05289815415479918308</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bsOtQPHNcmo/TltYC70D7pI/AAAAAAAAAEI/8DlqZXyeIS0/s220/DSC%2B059.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
