<?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-7552319154059767514</id><updated>2012-01-25T20:43:57.236+02:00</updated><title type='text'>zathing</title><subtitle type='html'>apa. ironie. dragoste. copil. muzica. oameni. 
carti. ghivece cu flori. reclame. tu. vise. 
idei. munca. fals. freud. noapte. ambitie.
macarale. cuvinte. analiza. baroc. iubire.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>227</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4409102964504253818</id><published>2010-03-15T14:07:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T14:50:47.705+02:00</updated><title type='text'>our baby girl</title><content type='html'>Statisticile arata ca in 2012 populatia planetei va ajunge la 7 miliarde locuitori. In urmatorii 43 de ani populatia planetei va continua sa imbatraneasca. Anual se nasc aproximativ 134 milioane de bebelusi. In 2009, in Romania, erau 10,342,480 barbati si 10,932,250 femei. In timp ce scriu creste cifra bebelusilor care au venit astazi pe lume - last count 227,199 nasteri. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In august, cel mai probabil, am ales sa crestem numarul femeilor nascute in Romania cu 1. Desi acum are doar 119 grame si undeva la 65 de mm, our baby girl, va semana cu my baby lover si va fi, sper, o leoaica in toata regula. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Din totalul barbatilor din Romania am ales unul. Potrivit mie 100%. Cu el am facut un copil. Sansele erau 50% cu 50%. Baby a decis sa fie fata. Una foarte activa, as putea spune. Sunt aproape sigura ca a miscat prima data acum doua saptamani. Acum are 18. Adica 4 luni. E o responsabilitate extraordinara contabilizarea acestor detalii pentru ca stiu ca o sa ne intrebe. si o sa-mi placa sa ii spunem chestii de genul "tatal tau a stiut de la inceput ca o sa fii fata sau nu ma lasai sa mananc cartofi prajiti" si prima data cand m-am trezit vorbind cu tine era prin ianuarie, plecam de la serviciu, ultima, si ti-am zis "papusa mea". Nestiind ce avea sa fii. Sau ca am avut mereu senzatia ca o sa fiu mama de baiat pentru care nu reuseam sa gasim nume :)). Nume de fata am gasit din prima! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunt detalii care, adunate, incep sa o compuna. Si sa-i defineasca, in linii mari, personalitatea. Imi place ca o sa aiba un tata misto, iubitor, cu o bata pregatita sa-i bata pe profesori &amp; others ;), cu care o sa semene tare mult, iar eu o sa fiu megafericita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este un sentiment straniu ca din aproape in aparoape se aduna detalii de genul asta. si totul pare din ce in ce mai real. si simti chestii diferite, cateodata esti barbar de sentimental, alta data naiv de superficial, poate chiar cu un varf de lingura de indiferenta. Cand colo, daca te uiti mai atent, te compleseste emotia si ai plange nonstop, de fericire, de uimire, de schimbare, de ireversibil. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iar toate astea se impart la doi caci asa e firescul intre noi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4409102964504253818?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4409102964504253818/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4409102964504253818' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4409102964504253818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4409102964504253818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2010/03/our-baby-girl.html' title='our baby girl'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4519603830037583584</id><published>2010-02-24T16:41:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T17:17:07.675+02:00</updated><title type='text'>50 de ani impreuna</title><content type='html'>Se zice ca atunci cand moare cineva, un alt suflet asteapta sa vina pe pamant. Si, cumva, raportul viata moarte sta in echilibru. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moartea cuiva drag, fie ea si asteptata, este dureroasa. Agonia dinainte, sentimentele de neputinta, si furie, si dor extraordinar care te incearca in momentul in care iti bagi mortul in groapa nu pot fi descrise. Evenimentul in sine ar putea fi comparat chiar si cu o conferinta, nu este ceva dificil de organizat. Si, daca gandesti la rece si nu asculti boceala babelor, pare usor de trecut. Pentru mine, care am responsabilitatea bunastarii copilului pe care il astept, cam asa a fost. Nu-mi permiteam sa plang, sa ma consum. Am vorbit cu el inainte de deces. I-am spus noutatile si ca regret enorm ca nu va fi alaturi de mine. De asemenea, i-am spus cat il iubesc si i-am multumit pentru tot. El a fost, de exemplu, omul care m-a dus prima data la mare, cand aveam numai 6 luni. M-a iubit enorm si mi-a purtat mereu de grija. Stiu asta si am simtit-o permanent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am limitat lacrimile pentru ca acum tre sa fiu vesela. Asa ca am decis sa-mi amintesc numai chestiile misto pe care le stiu de la el si sa ii pastrez vii amintirile, glumele etc. Refuz sa ma gandesc prea mult pentru ca nu m-as mai opri din plans. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Titul, insa, nu se refera la relatia mea cu el. Ci la a bunicii mele cu el. S-au cunoscut cand ea avea 17 ani si el vreo 20. S-au casatorit, au facut o casa si 3 copii, au avut si mai multi nepoti si nenumarate momente de bucurie. Au crescut impreuna, s-au descoperit unul pe altul, s-au maturizat brusc, de nevoie, si se cunosteau mai bine ca oricine. Nu m-am gandit prea mult de-a lungul timpului la relatia lor. Erau ei, mereu alaturi de noi, mereu impreuna. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand el a murit, insa, si o ascultam pe ea cum il plange, am vazut cat de mult s-au iubit de fapt. 50 de ani alaturi de acelasi om te leaga indescriptibil de el si cand nu mai este, simti, probabil, ca a murit si o parte din tine. In 50 de ani ajungi sa experimentezi iubirea in toate formele ei si poti spune ca da, ai simtit si tipul ala de frustrare, de ura, de extaz etc. Zicea ca cel mai mult o doare ca nu il mai vede si ca atunci cand isi aminteste ce zicea el nu ii aude si vocea. Vocea lui atat de familiara. N-a vrut sa plece nici o clipa de acolo, sa vina sa doarma la noi sau mai stiu eu ce. A zis ca "nu plec eu de la casa noastra. Raman aici sa am grija de tot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e greu sa cred ca ma voi duce la ei si va fi doar ea acolo. Si mi-e si mai greu sa ma gandesc ca va veni momentul in care nici macar ea nu va mai fi. Acesta a fost unul din acele momente care stiam ca se vor intampla la un moment dat, dar erau undeva departe. Sambata viitorul asta a fost cat se poate de prezent. Dovada ca lucrurile se schimba, mai incet, mai abrupt, mai pe neasteptate, dar se schimba. Si se pare ca la final tot cadavru ajungem, cu un cortegiu de amintiri care spun altora ce am fost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4519603830037583584?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4519603830037583584/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4519603830037583584' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4519603830037583584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4519603830037583584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2010/02/50-de-ani-impreuna.html' title='50 de ani impreuna'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4098497469948044886</id><published>2010-02-05T17:10:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T17:26:27.559+02:00</updated><title type='text'>nu-i ca-n filme</title><content type='html'>am vazut tone de filme si am ascultat mega de melodii de dragoste. over and over unele din ele. si-mi imaginam cum o sa fie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;faza este ca, oricat ai visa nu va fi niciodata ca in realitate. de aceea viatza bate ratza. in sensul ca in real life lucrurile sunt cu mult mai misto. cu mult mai intense si cu mult mai ale tale. un vis nu-l poti transforma in amintire, dar un moment trait, poate deveni una dintre acele amintiri. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n-am visat niciodata ziua nuntii mele. nici rochia, nici locatia, nici bijuteriile. cu atat mai putin tortul, pantofii sau buchetul. am visat insa, mereu, la el. cum o sa fie si ce o sa facem impreuna. stiam ca alesul va fi cel pe care-l voi simti mai potrivit sa-mi fie tatal copiilor. stiam ca el va fi perfect in sensul ca potrivit mie. stiam ca el va sti sa ma iubeasca asa cum am nevoie fara sa ii spun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;barbatul meu este indescriptibil. nu am ce sa-i reprosez, nu am ce sa modific la el. nu pot sa cer mai mult de la viata. m-as magari maxim. el este supriza cu care simteam ca ma va suprinde pozitiv destinul. &lt;br /&gt;cand m-a cerut de nevasta, desi stiam si discutasem ca ne vom casatori, a fost ceva la fel de indescriptibil. totul a fost perfect pentru ca a fost in stilul nostru. &lt;br /&gt;in acest moment, in care burta-mi creste considerabil, in care ma schimb in fiecare zi, ma simt implinita. nu am nevoie de mai mult decat de noua mea familie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4098497469948044886?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4098497469948044886/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4098497469948044886' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4098497469948044886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4098497469948044886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2010/02/nu-i-ca-n-filme.html' title='nu-i ca-n filme'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-3301845351835371693</id><published>2010-02-02T14:28:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T15:28:43.969+02:00</updated><title type='text'>24=3</title><content type='html'>asa. am mancat, am baut (chiar si putina sampanie - am vazut eu ca baby vrea putin alcool) si acum as dori cu interes sa trag un pui de somn. vorbeam dimineata cu musashi ca este posibil sa aiba legatura ora la care te-ai nascut cu momentul in care ti se face somn. si i-am zis: "pai da, m-am nascut, am vazut care e treaba si, din moment ce inapoi nu puteam sa mai intru, m-am culcusit in patutul de spital". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;inca un an. al doilea buletin. in curand il fac pe al 3-lea cu nume nou si tot tacamul. ce-mi doresc de ziua mea? pfff! am tot ce-mi doresc, deci nu-mi doresc decat sanatate pentru cei care imi sunt aproape si sa fie lucrurile macar ca acum. La serviciu ca-n familie (plus ca am cea mai tare sefa), in familie "super iti spun", iubesc si sunt iubita, o sa am un bebe genial, deci? ce poti sa mai ceri?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca ma simt altfel? acum nu pot sa-mi dau seama exact. am una din cele mai mari responsabilitati si asta cred ca te maturizeaza vrei nu vrei. lucru care ma bucura si ma face superfericita. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anul trecut am primit destul de multe cadouri. eh, am facut si party pe masura. si a fost misto. dar stateam cu chirie si lucram intr-un loc toxic, neprimitor. cu toate astea anul a fost demential. acum am familia mea la care abia astept sa ajung seara. imi amintesc cand am scris o chestie despre iubiri adevarate. la mine au fost doua la numar. prima, clasica, de adolescenta rebela si aceasta cu baby, familie si momente in doi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anul trecut aveam cateva obiective: sa mai iau un CAE pe ici pe colo, o masina etc. acum am unul singur. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pana la urma varsta e doar o cifra. ce simbolizeaza ea este mult mai important. ce amintiri tzesem in jurul ei. ce nume sunt atasate de cifra ta din 2010. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps: e ft tare sa te sune lumea si sa-ti ureze la multi ani! pt 2 :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pps: În această lună, în ziua a doua, se prăznuieşte Întâmpinarea Domnului Dumnezeu şi Mântuitorului nostru Iisus Hristos, când L-a primit dreptul Simeon în braţele sale.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-3301845351835371693?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/3301845351835371693/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=3301845351835371693' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3301845351835371693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3301845351835371693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2010/02/243.html' title='24=3'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-6910456161546805327</id><published>2010-01-24T23:05:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T23:19:59.655+02:00</updated><title type='text'>viziune si strategie</title><content type='html'>doua cuvinte pompoase. in asentimentul celor cu pregatire intelectuala, a celor carora le place sa planifice, sa iasa in presa, sa castige electorat. &lt;br /&gt;am fost acum doua saptamani la o intalnire care pregatea viitorul sistemului de sanatate din Romania. Capete luminate - consilieri prezidentiali, CEO de mu;tinationale, manageri de businessuri conexe etc. Doua ore pe ceas s-a vorbit dand roata in jurul cozii despre Vizune si strategie si despre nevoia stringenta a celor doua. &lt;br /&gt;nu s epoate domne.. nu se poate sa dam legi, reglemantari, sa normam sistemul fara o viziune defalcata pe o strategie asezata apoi pe legi. eh, hai mah, zi?! chiar asa? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am intrebat apoi, curiosa in interviurile pe care le-am luat. am intrebat si eu pe unul altul. domne, ce maica mamei sale implica aceasta viziune in sanatate???? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n-ai zice, dar nu mi s-a raspuns CONCRET absolut DELOC. adik nimic, zero, nici o VIZIUNE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;va dau copy paste de pe site-ul ministerului. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"II.      VIZIUNE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ministerul Sanatatii Publice urmareste imbunatatirea starii de sanatate a populatiei si  realizarea un sistem de sanatate modern si eficient, compatibil cu sistemele de sanatate din Uniunea Europeana, pus permanent in slujba cetateanului."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in concret nimeni nu vede nimic, stau toti ca magarii in ceata si discuta problema lipsei banilor din sistem, dar nimeni nu vede padurea de copaci. nu zice nimeni: "bah retarzilor care vreti injectii bine facute pe bani putini, voi cei care sperati si lucrati si platiti si luati la mumu, eu VAD ca peste 10 ani, ar trebui sa fim un sistem de sanatate de caca, nu avem alta sansa, in care toti sa fim manjiti ca atare ca niste incapabili ce suntem". nu nu, nimeni nu are fulg de viziune. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da, m-am plictisit chiar si eu de prostia celor ce  ne conduc. basescu, boc (duamne ce-mi doresc sa pot sa-i spun ca este un inapt enervant. incompetent, pitic frustrat, cu o retorica idioata, cu gestica si mimica de cimpanzeu, nu inteleg de ce oameni precum Mircea Badea promoveaza idiotenia asta cretinoida cu flacata mov?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;este pacat de noi - as zice patura de mijloc, care ne vedem de traba ca alceva nu avem incotro. care mincim si platim cardurile si lumina si taxa pe apartament si pe masina si care facem planuri mici despre lucruri mari - este pacat de noi ca ne blazam si ii lasam pe astia, sa iasa pe TV si sa faca politica. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viziune? ciu ciu. Strategie??? P....a&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-6910456161546805327?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/6910456161546805327/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=6910456161546805327' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6910456161546805327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6910456161546805327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2010/01/viziune-si-strategie.html' title='viziune si strategie'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2076240602708965590</id><published>2010-01-21T12:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T12:16:07.026+02:00</updated><title type='text'>New days</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/16cRKh780n0&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/16cRKh780n0&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2076240602708965590?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2076240602708965590/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2076240602708965590' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2076240602708965590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2076240602708965590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-days.html' title='New days'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-5665414638356749271</id><published>2010-01-21T10:03:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T10:31:52.747+02:00</updated><title type='text'>in a 10-a saptamana</title><content type='html'>sambata am fost la medicul oficial. am discutat data aproximativa a nasterii, ordinea ecografiilor pe care trebuie sa le facem, ne-am tras prin ac o serie de analize, dar, mai mult decat orice, l-am revazut pe bebe :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cand esti insarcinata ti se intampla o multime de chestii: esti usor paranoica. apar intrebari de genul: chiar sunt insarcinata? o fi bine acolo, in sacul lui amniotic? mai creste sau s-a oprit? simte ce fac, ce gandesc, ce vorbesc cu el? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;un alt aspect tine de schimarile din corpul tau: unele chiar sunt, altele poate ti se par. Eu am fost destul de norocoasa incat sa le experimentez pe cele clasice: dureri crancene de cap, greturi dimineata (care nu implica greata fata de ceva. deloc. te trezesti, mai stai putin si ta! ra! ai vomitat :))), pofte - inca nu foarte bine conturate - o saptamana am vrut seven days cu crema de sampanie si bake rolls cu pizza. da, ii place pizza. in scotia doar asta am putut manca. acum vreau morcovi si mamaliga cu branza, inca am pofta de pastrama. Nu ii plac deloc cartofii prajiti. Iar eu si daca aveam pofta de ceva dulce mancam cartofi prajiti. Ei bine aici seamana cu tat'so. Nu prea ii plac. Ma lasa cat ii mananc... chiar si putin dupa, dar inevitabil tre sa-i scoatem din sistem. In schimb ii plac spaghetele. Si orice mancare gatesc. Ca tat'so :)) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ai pofte ciudate. nu din seria arta culinara. de exemplu inca din decembrie am pofta sa citesc povesti nemuritoare. am pofta sa dansez, cant mai mereu (horror, dar cant). am chef sa fac curat si sa spal. unii ar zice ca e de la perioada de "nesting", dar senzatia exista. desi mi-a zis viitoare nasa a copilului sa vad numai filme misto, cumva am vazut numai filme cu crime si criminali in serie. sau stiri cu mortaciuni. &lt;br /&gt;mai este chestia cu mirosurile. si este un parfum de detergent cred, sau sapun sau crema, nush exact ca nu reusesc sa identific. dar nu pot sa il suport. oricum nu imi plac parfumurile de femeie, nici mirosurile dulci, cateodata nici macar mirosul meu. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sambata baby avea 9 saptamani si 23 mm. acum ne apropiem vertiginos de a 10-a = doua luni de sarcina. inca nu am burtica, dar m-am schimbat asa... pe alocuri. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pfff, tre sa zic. am auzit o expresie hidoasa. care culmea vine de la femei care au nascut si care au un anumit grad de cultura. "bortoasa" sau, vor ele sa fie mai dragalashe "bortzi". duamne suna hidos. de parca ai fi animal gestant fara ratiune simtaminte si abilitatea de a vorbi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cu fiecare zi care trece se concretizeaza sentimentul si incep sa cred ca da. chiar este, chiar se intampla. baby is on his way. io simt ca e baiat, in sensul ca nu imi vine sa fac chestii girly. tat'so zice ca e fata. pentru care avem nume. astept cu interes sa facem 3D-ul ala sa vedem ce este. desi am auzit ca s-au intamplat si incurcaturi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da, aproape ca doar despre asta vorbesc. nu ramai de doua ori insarcinata pentru prima data asa ca am de gand sa inregistrez toate aceste chestii. sa vada si el ce facea ma'sa cand el plutea prin uterul ei. &lt;br /&gt;ar fi atatea de zis, duamne, nu as mai termina. sunt atatea chestii pe care tre sa le cumparam, sa le invatam si sa le stim. &lt;br /&gt;in continuare imi place la nebunie ce se intampla si imi place sa experimentez asta cu iubitul meu... care in curand.... ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-5665414638356749271?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/5665414638356749271/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=5665414638356749271' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5665414638356749271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5665414638356749271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-10-saptamana.html' title='in a 10-a saptamana'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-5601140727160299876</id><published>2010-01-05T12:50:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T12:59:43.047+02:00</updated><title type='text'>our baby</title><content type='html'>luna decembrie 2009 a batut recordul la capitolul informatie noua: viena, revistele, scotia si mai ales marea veste. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mi-am dorit asta si credeam ca va mai dura mult pana se va intampla si imi amintesc cand mi s-a spus ca nu se va putea decat...greu, greu. ei bine, baby a decis sa vina mai repede si iata ca are 6 saptamani. azi i-am auzit prima data bataile inimii. &lt;br /&gt;fascinant, fabulos, uimitor. este o minune a tehnicii naturii. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11 mm de viata care in mai putin de 9 luni se vor transforma in baby. our baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca sunt speriata? deloc. daca imi este frica? deloc. sunt doar incredibil de fericita. zambesc tot timpul si incerc sa tin pasul cu schimbarile care ma inunda. sunt atatea si atatea chestii de facut, oh duamne. este minunat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;inevitabil zathing devine zababything ceea ce este genial. asa cum este si tatal lui.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-5601140727160299876?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/5601140727160299876/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=5601140727160299876' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5601140727160299876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5601140727160299876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2010/01/our-baby.html' title='our baby'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-8395289584322827069</id><published>2009-12-22T13:37:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T14:18:51.180+02:00</updated><title type='text'>me and other meS</title><content type='html'>Nu am stiut niciodata sa raspund la intrebari de genul: care este cuvantul care te descrie? sau ce meserie crezi ca ti s-ar potrivi? etc &lt;br /&gt;si nici nu cred in texte de cacutza, dar.. frecand menta la birou (in asteptarea vacantei) m-am apucat serios de teste pe facebook. nu stau prea des pe facebook si nici nu socializez prea mult online. nu-mi place. e ca si cand ai avea plante de plastic in casa si te-ai preface ca le uzi. In fine... dat fiind faptul ca raspunsul testelor pare sa ma descrie intocmai...le trec mai jos sa fie! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life symbol ...and I don't even like roses that much &lt;br /&gt;You are the Rose, the symbol of love. You try and show everyone how much you love them, even if it means hurting them. Because of your strong love for others, you are willing to hurt them or yourself to keep them safe. Your love will help you and others grow strong, so keep it close. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The persuader. You are a natural motivator and communicator. You are also very competitive. You can sway peoples emotions by the way you talk. You hav...e a very warm and enthusiastic personality. When talking about something, you tend to exaggerate, or leave out facts and details just to make a good story. You are a free spirit and do whatever you feel. You are either an entertainer or leader. Sometimes you’d rather talk about things than do them. People often go to you with their problems because you can make them feel better after a talk. You may not give good advice but you generally know the right things to say to cheer them up. You’re the type that enjoys being with a large group of friends and taking the spotlight. Be careful not to have a big mouth or big ego. People with this personality trait have mood changes very quickly from cheerful to bitter and vice versa! You are susceptible to starting gossip or starting a fight because you can be obnoxious sometimes! Tone down your flames! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the ultimate romantic at heart. You put a high priority on true love, patriotism, and dedication to honor and duty. Whether it be serving your country or serving your family, you have a very hard work-ethic balanced out by your whimsical, dreamy heart. You are willing to take risks, go where no one has gone before, and you have a sense of pride in everything you do. Just as you are in touch with your inner beauty, you also give just the right amount of focus on your outer beauty-- standing out with the latest fashions and getting in touch with your sensual side. Your sexiness is not scandalous but rather classy and poised. You are the envy of those around you because no matter how much tough work you have to do, you keep a smile and look good while doing it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am this annoying :)) &lt;br /&gt;Wow, you've got a lot to say and you're going to be heard whether people like it or not. You probably also make people cringe internally, but who cares! It's ok that you're incredibly annoying, many people are. Can you change? Sure, but what's the fun in that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're Eric Cartman. You are self-absorbed and mean-spirited. You have had years of practice at getting your own way and can twist any situation to fit your own needs. You enjoy putting others down and crave authority and power. You are constantly coming up with new schemes to get what you want and you aren't afraid of stepping on anyone in the process. Congratulations (sort of), you're Eric Cartman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-8395289584322827069?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/8395289584322827069/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=8395289584322827069' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8395289584322827069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8395289584322827069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/12/me-and-other-mes.html' title='me and other meS'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-8861316784625878828</id><published>2009-12-03T10:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T10:58:08.722+02:00</updated><title type='text'>pentru D, ca mi-a cerut :))</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.romaniantipsd.ro/widget"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-8861316784625878828?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/8861316784625878828/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=8861316784625878828' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8861316784625878828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8861316784625878828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/12/pentru-d-ca-mi-cerut.html' title='pentru D, ca mi-a cerut :))'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-5491120568549667751</id><published>2009-11-27T12:30:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T12:43:22.945+02:00</updated><title type='text'>branding personal</title><content type='html'>acum 4 ani am intrebat un prieten de la Porsche daca as putea sa fac branding personal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;In Romania? doar andi moisescu si mihaela radulescu fac. Mai asteapta si tu 3-4 ani sa fie piata pregatita. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am fost acum cateva saptamani la un seminar pe aceasta tema organizat de IAA. Mi-a placut sa vad ca piata este pregatita, ca a crescut, ca incepe sa inteleaga ceva ce era mai misto daca se intampla acum 4 ani. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iata cateva teme de gandire in ordine aleatorie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- brandul implica mult control;&lt;br /&gt;- esenta ta=TU&lt;br /&gt;- cine este in sfera ta de interes? cui te adresezi?&lt;br /&gt;- tre sa te dai jos din pat ca sa cunosti&lt;br /&gt;- cate branduri personale ai?&lt;br /&gt;- brandul personal inseamna promisiune indeplinita. tu ce ai promis?&lt;br /&gt;- cum faci sa se vada mecanisme simple intr-o lume care se complica singura?&lt;br /&gt;- ce constante alegi sa te insoteasca? ce pierzi pe drum?&lt;br /&gt;- descopera, dezvolta, construieste. in ce stadiu esti?&lt;br /&gt;- ce branduri alege brandul tau personal?&lt;br /&gt;- unde vrei sa ajungi si cum vrei sa fii intr-un an? &lt;br /&gt;- poti sa iubesti cand esti brand personal? &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;si doua bonusuri &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;una de la Alexandra Olaru: "floare rosie pe gura si in inima arsura" (de la N. Labis cu dedicatie pentru cei care lucreaza in comunicare)&lt;br /&gt; si inca una de la biserica la care nu prea mergem &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duminica a 26-a după Rusalii&lt;br /&gt;- Pilda bogatului căruia i-a rodit ţarina -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ev. Luca 12, 16-21&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Şi le-a spus lor această pildă, zicând: Unui om bogat i-a rodit din belşug ţarina. Şi el cugeta în sine, zicând: Ce voi face, că n-am unde să adun roadele mele? Şi a zis: Aceasta voi face: Voi strica jitniţele mele şi mai mari le voi zidi şi voi strânge acolo tot grâul şi bunătăţile mele; Şi voi zice sufletului meu: Suflete, ai multe bunătăţi strânse pentru mulţi ani; odihneşte-te, mănâncă, bea, veseleşte-te. Iar Dumnezeu i-a zis: Nebune! În această noapte vor cere de la tine sufletul tău. Şi cele ce ai pregătit ale cui vor fi? Aşa se întâmplă cu cel ce-şi adună comori sieşi şi nu se îmbogăţeşte în Dumnezeu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-5491120568549667751?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/5491120568549667751/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=5491120568549667751' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5491120568549667751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5491120568549667751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/11/branding-personal.html' title='branding personal'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-7324690724363408088</id><published>2009-11-27T12:10:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T12:29:54.359+02:00</updated><title type='text'>o cometa</title><content type='html'>"in prmul rand trebuie sa iti gasesti o cometa si sa te tii de ea bine, bine. Cometa are doua proprietati - viteza cu care se deplasaza si faptul ca nu se uita inapoi", mi-a spus L.F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M-am gandit dupa intalnirea cu ea la asteroizii pe care ii intalnim, la planetele care parcurg sistemul solar alaturi de noi, la galaxiile pe care le formam, la gaurile negre pe care le evitam sau in care ne cufundam, la toate stelele care ne lumineaza noptile si la care ajungem de multe ori doar cu gandul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;doua intersectii mai incolo se afla un an proaspat, neprihanit si visator. de aici, de pe pamant, cometele se vad rareori. trebuie sa stii cand trec sau macar sa-ti spuna cineva. si ca sa le vezi, trebuie sa fii in mediul adecvat. sau macar sa ai pe cineva sa te duca acolo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pe harta ta de branding personal, pe care o intinzi cat e ziua de lunga, asemeni unui camp de batalie miniatural, nu apar comete. cometa implica "think ousite the box". Ca sa prinzi cometa tre sa ridici privirea, sa mijesti ochii, si sa sari. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la prima vedere pare o tampenie si un nimik cu care nu-ti poti pierde timpul pretios de bucurestean prins in trafic. la prima vedere e o tampenie sa visezi (am mai retinut si mi-a placut ideea ca "nefericirea este distanta dintre vise si abilitati") mai ales ca in ziua de azi publicitatea iti indeplineste orice asteptare, tu esti centrul universului consumerismului. la prima vedere, cometele sunt in alt plan, unul tridimensional in care nu poti ajunge decat virtual (pe facebook sau following it on twitter). la prima vedere e prea departe, e prea sus, esti prea mic, prea nepregatit si prea temator. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dar, daca te uiti mai bine, de ce nu? de ce nu TU? de ce crezi ca, doua intersectii mai incolo, o data cu anul nou, anul si mai nou, si poate chiar cel nou nout, nu va veni si cometa, de care te vei prinde fara teama, vei inchide ochii si te va trage sus, sus, si atat?! :)) (nu prea sus ca poa' sa doara la aterizare :)))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-7324690724363408088?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/7324690724363408088/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=7324690724363408088' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7324690724363408088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7324690724363408088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/11/o-cometa.html' title='o cometa'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-7873707429322785971</id><published>2009-11-20T14:43:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T14:53:11.435+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Niste raspunsuri</title><content type='html'>"M-am trezit fara sa deschid ochii. Simt caldura unui corp care e lipit de al meu, sunt mainele care ma mangaie usor pe un umar si-mi dau parul deoparte ca sa-mi sarute ceafa. Am acelasi fior, pana-n varful degetelor, exact ca in prima dimineata de dupa prima noapte dormita impreuna, de mult... E singurul barbat care m-a facut sa iubesc diminetile. Sa ma simt iubita dimineata. Sa zambesc in somn de bucurie ca se face dimineata..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunt cateva randuri din cartea Mihaelei Radulescu. Nu sunt alese la intamplare ci in spiritul Brasov Baby ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La 14 ani aveam intrebari legate de sarut, de baieti, de mine, de viata si de viitorul cel mai indepartat. La 19 incepeam sa am intrebari despre cariera, relatii pasagere si sentimente ascunse in cufere din pod. La 22 ma intrebam de casnicii si rostul familiilor moarte. La 24 primesc niste raspunsuri la toate intrebarile pe care mi le-am pus si uit ca mi le-am pus vreodata.  &lt;br /&gt;Tot la 24 apar din ce in ce mai multe noi intrebari. Care primesc de data aceasta, din fericire, raspunsuri prompte, personalizate. Si nu sunt ale Mihaelei Radulescu. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-7873707429322785971?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/7873707429322785971/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=7873707429322785971' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7873707429322785971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7873707429322785971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/11/niste-raspunsuri.html' title='Niste raspunsuri'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4095868701545883552</id><published>2009-11-20T14:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T14:43:18.866+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dani Otil - Mihaela Radulescu</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ISmVlDf3TjA&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ISmVlDf3TjA&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4095868701545883552?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4095868701545883552/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4095868701545883552' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4095868701545883552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4095868701545883552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/11/dani-otil-mihaela-radulescu.html' title='Dani Otil - Mihaela Radulescu'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2146521227289187378</id><published>2009-11-09T15:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T15:58:09.148+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Milk from NY ;), with love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Svgf0HWdXvI/AAAAAAAAAFI/Wb6ZbtvTqsg/s1600-h/laptic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 292px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Svgf0HWdXvI/AAAAAAAAAFI/Wb6ZbtvTqsg/s320/laptic.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402102733217816306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2146521227289187378?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2146521227289187378/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2146521227289187378' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2146521227289187378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2146521227289187378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/11/milk-from-ny-with-love.html' title='Milk from NY ;), with love'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Svgf0HWdXvI/AAAAAAAAAFI/Wb6ZbtvTqsg/s72-c/laptic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-7989145020284999378</id><published>2009-11-09T12:15:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T13:09:07.384+02:00</updated><title type='text'>buni de dus cu preşu</title><content type='html'>cek nu asimilez calciul. drept urmare, nu se refac oasele, in continuare surubul e baza ca sa para ca am cot:D minunat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de aici ma gandesc... ca sa ai oase tari, tre sa ai un organism eficient care sa asimileze tot ce prinde. mai un osteocare, mai un osseor, ceva de pofta de mancare, niste lapte, branza la cutie, untoasa, de pofta buna, niste ceai verde - am citit je in Elle ca e bun pt oase si, poate chiar si putin iaurt - doar tnuva ca sunt fitzoasa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in cazul meu si al oamenilor cu trimitere la ortopedie e usor. dar in cazul celor cu probleme de coalana vertebrala in sensul de buni de calcat-in-picioare-dus-cu-presul-mintit-engros cu ramane? ei cu ce se trateaza?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa presupunem, la intamplare, ca esti ninel (deja devine personaj de blog :))) de la Naspetus City. Ai, sa zicem... 20 de ani  (inca necopt la minte desi ti se pare), iti place sa zbori cu avionul, ai talent oratoric - sau cel putin asa crezi, ai visat sa fii regizor de platou, dar ai ajuns doar prin Regie, te plimbi prin tara cu trenul sau cu o masina care nu este a ta, ai parul lung ca cek esti rebel si feminin (nu gay), iti place muzica pe care o inteleg doar ce supradozati, iti place sa joci carti, dar le diferentiezi doar dupa culori, nu mergi la teatru decat daca au mai fost si altii si visezi ca, intr-o zi... cineva iti va spune: ninel, ur my tiger =)) fara sa se prapadeasca de ras... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;revenind... esti ninel din Naspetus City, dar nu ai coaie cand se infurie unul la tine, esti dependent de un altul in permanenta, crezi orbeste ca esti iubit si urmezi mana care te trage Dumnezeu stie unde. Nu ai tupeu sa cauti si sa cercetezi de teama a ce vei afla, preferi indobitocirea si nimicul caci asta e materia ta prima, nu poti sta drept, doar indoit de egoismul altora. Esti demn de mila si ustensila de amintiri, altii traiesc prin tine, iar tu crezi ca traiesti cand, de fapt, nasti imagini si te transformi din Ninel in fofoloanca cu palmares. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M-a luat valul si m-am abatut de la subiect. Revenind la problema cu pricina - lipsa tariei coloanei vertebrale genereaza anomalii si disfunctii seriose precum si modificari de gen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce naiba tratament sa se aplice in astfel de cazuri? Cate placute si cate suruburi sa prinzi ca sa stea dreapta? Cum sa ajuti astfel de oameni fara personalitate, naivi, calcati in picioare, care accepta sa fie ceva ce nu sunt?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-7989145020284999378?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/7989145020284999378/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=7989145020284999378' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7989145020284999378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7989145020284999378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/11/buni-de-dus-cu-presu.html' title='buni de dus cu preşu'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4532880998528027962</id><published>2009-11-04T18:18:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T19:10:37.926+02:00</updated><title type='text'>kinuialoterapie</title><content type='html'>ok, nu intra in panica. &lt;br /&gt;m-asez speriata pe salteaua verde de fitness si astept ceea ce traiesc mai nou: kinuialoterapie. il vad cum se apropie de mine: gigant, fortos, cu ochii mici, patrunzatori. ma apuca de mana si urla:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- intinde, lasa moale si intinde! Asa! Intinde! Moale, moale, moale.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mintea mea este: Au! Au! Au! Fuck it! Doare! La naiba! Mama m-a invatat ca nu e frumos sa il injuri pe ala care iti face bine asa ca ma abtin. In consecinta, iar mi-am supramuscat degetul de la cealalta mana. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- asa! bravos.. hai ca mai este un pic. Lasa MOALE! tipa kinetoterapeutul. Dar mana nu ma asculta deloc, toate energiile imi sunt concentrate in cotul mainii stangi si intind, si imping, si incordez si ciu ciu. nada, nimic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in schimb, umarul imi este imobilizat, in cot ma racaie noul surub, muschii parca mi-au luat foc si degetele imi sunt amortite. Ia si lucreaza daca poti. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La kinuialoterapie toata lumea este incruntata, trista. Totul este numai ah, oh, au, :(, toti sunt concentrati si mint in privnta durerii. Fiecare are povestea lui si fiecare abia ateapta sa o spuna celuilalt. Se fac perechi: cei cu genunchii intr-o parte...cei cu coate in alta, soldurile pe saltele, claviculele la spalieri, degetele la masa. Sportul nedeclarat este aruncatul cu privirea dupa cicatricea aluia de langa tine. Cat e de vindecata, de roz, de stramba, de mica, de vanata. Care unde o are si cine i-a facut-o. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zilnic imi iau doza de durere. "Las' ca e spre binele tau" mi se spune incurajator. Stiu ca este.. si ca o sa am din nou doua maini nu una si jumate. Si stiu ca o sa pot sa intind mana bine si ca o sa pot da pase la volei, ca o sa ajung din nou la raftul de sus, ca o sa pot sa ma atarn de o bara si sa fac surubul cum faceam in copilarie.. stiu toate astea... dar n-am ce face... despre asta vorbesc non stop. despre cotul care nu s-a prins, despre surubul care scartaie, despre cat doare, cat s-a intins, daca pot sau nu sa-mi duc mana la ceafa. Secsi medicine! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am vrut sa scriu un post despre cum este la masa nobililor din industria farma, despre cum percepi lumea cand esti singur - mereu nemultumit, mereu in cautare, si cum o percepi in doi - cand lumea se rezuma la voi, am vrut sa scriu despre materii prime si materii cenusii, despre Dumnezeu si albul tot mai putin alb, despre zambete si despre noua pasiune pentru Friends - care concureaza destul de mult cu cea pentru Sex and the City, dar am ramas la cotul cel nou, cel actual, cel in refacere, cel care s eincapataneaza sa functioneze din nou la fel de bine!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4532880998528027962?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4532880998528027962/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4532880998528027962' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4532880998528027962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4532880998528027962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/11/kinuialoterapie.html' title='kinuialoterapie'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-5683568960164240405</id><published>2009-10-09T10:03:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T11:37:04.662+03:00</updated><title type='text'>ma doare-n cot!</title><content type='html'>v-ati uitat vreodata in cot? ati avut grija lui? curiozitatea sa vedeti daca mai este la fel de ascutit, de osos, de mobil?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;personal nu l-am prea bagat in seama pana cand a inceput sa emane miros puternic de durere acuta. in momentul in care a disparut si in locul lui a ramas o gaura in care-mi intra lejer pumnul, mi-am dat seama cat de tare te poate durea in cot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;un algocalmin si trei intersectii mai tarziu ma aflam la urgente unde incercam, cumva, sa explic unde ma doare si de ce sunt acolo. &lt;br /&gt;intr-o fractiune de secunda s-a schimbat toata ordinea lucrurilor, s-au resetat prioritatile, n-a mai contat lista de presa, invitatii, materiale promotionale, interviuri, gala dinner sau speakeri internationali. acum totul era urgent, defect, dureros. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ma grabeam sa ajung la o sedinta, timp in care scriam si vorbeam la telefon si incercam sa ma gandesc cat de repede pot descarca revistele in masina ca sa ma reintorc la birou. n-am mai dat atentie picioarelor care, din initiativa proprie au decis sa-mi puna piedica si un mare STOP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o radiografie, un EKG si o internare la urgenta dupa, am lasat managementul bolilor cronice pentru managementul cotului lipsa. doi sagetatori minunati pazeau holurile spitalului in asteptrea mea. eu ma distram copios cu niste frisoane, senzatii de voma si pulsatii teribile. asteptam ca asistenta sa gaseasca o vena si analizam instrumentele care se adunau langa mine: bisturiu, grebla, bomfaier, bormasina, pense si alte chestii dragalase. anestezia si-a facut efectul in doua propozitii, am semnat cumva ca "sunt de acord" si iata-ma inconstienta. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;doua ore mai tarziu incercam sa revin la realitate. o realitate in care invat sa misc degetele, sa flexez, sa inchid pumnul si sa ignor durerea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acum am un cot nou nout, prins in suruburi si cusut cu grija. de data asta sunt atat de constienta de el, atat de curioasa sa vad ce face, cum ii este, ce nevoi are, cum ii este mai comod. el ma va ajuta sa pot sa scriu din nou, sa fac cu mana, sa apuc, sa mangai, sa tastez (mi-a luat ceva sa scriu asta cu o sg mana), sa tai paine, sa conduc, sa-mi suflu nasul, sa imbratisez, sa-mi strang parul, sa ma spal pe cap, sa fac sport si sa fiu din nou stangace. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la ortopedie durerea nu-i deloc muta. ea ulta constant, se zbate, ofteaza, striga si cere alinare. batrani cu oasele rarefiate in care nu se mai fixeaza protezele, adulti calcati de masina, femei care cad in beci si ajung la spital cu o ordine gresita a oaselor, tineri care cad de pe schela si medici primari ortopezi specialisti in coate si genunchi. la ortopedie tre sa inveti sa razi, sa faci misto de tine si de suruburile in plus, sa faci haz la necaz si sa fii tare. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;morala? alergam spre ce este nu spre ce credeam ca va fi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-5683568960164240405?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/5683568960164240405/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=5683568960164240405' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5683568960164240405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5683568960164240405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/10/ma-doare-n-cot.html' title='ma doare-n cot!'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-7037766115965005473</id><published>2009-10-03T10:47:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T11:18:43.228+03:00</updated><title type='text'>cea mai frumoasa zi</title><content type='html'>care este cea mai frumoasa zi din viata ta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;viata mea, toata? sau cea de pana acum? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;esti prost si nu intelegi nimic. a vietii tale! nu ti-e clar? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;este ziua de la inceput? ziua in care te-ai nascut si te-ai intrebat naiv: de ce? &lt;br /&gt;este in care, aflat sub influenta mucilor pe care ii tot inghiteai, ai vazut clar ca "te iubeste" :))? si razand ti-ai spus: moama, ce norocos sunt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;este ziua in care ai fost operat si scalpul ti-a fost reintregit? (e caz real al unui baiat care, in urma unui accident de masina, nu mai are partea de sus a capului, doar piele care atarna concav)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;este ziua in care ai primit o sora? cea in care ti-a murit neincrederea? este ziua in care ai alergat pe plaja goala pana la far si ti-era frig, dar erai atat de fericit? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;este ziua in care ai facut dragoste cu mama copilului tau si canta MJ pe fundal (naku penda piya-naku taka Piya-mpenziwe)? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;este ziua asta friguroasa de octombrie, in care norii croseteaza ploaie peste noi? este ziua in care ai castigat campionatul de baschet, in care ai dansat tango si ti-a iesit? este ziua in care ai aflat ca dincolo de soare mai este ceva? este ziua in care te-ai eliberat de memoria cosmica si ai aflat ca era a ta? este ziua in care ai inceput sa visezi? este ziua in care ti-ai confirmat ca in doi e mai bine, mai plin, mai altfel, mai aproape de sufletul tau? este 16 august? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;care este cea mai frumoasa zi? si daca ea exista, de ce marti si nu duminica? de ce pe 4 si nu pe 24? de ce in 1994 si nu in 2010? de ce atunci si nu maine? de ce a fost si nu urmeaza sa fie? de ce nu stii sa raspunzi? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ei bine, dragii mosului, cea mai frumoasa zi, nu exista. toate sunt frumoase, in felul lor. toate ne ofera ceva, macar sansa la viata. pentru mine, cea mai frumoasa zi ramane azi. un azi perpetuu, in care sunt asa cum scrie in cosmos. nu pot sa aleg, nu ai cum sa alegi intre sufletul tau si sufletul tau. cea mai frumoasa zi implica fericire. dar fericirea se naste din tristete, pe care tot cu sufletul o simti. deci nu poti extrage radical din toate zilele o cea mai frumoasa zi. pentru ca cea mai frumoasa zi din viata ta ramane prima.... sau ultima?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yaUwrIyKiNk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yaUwrIyKiNk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-7037766115965005473?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/7037766115965005473/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=7037766115965005473' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7037766115965005473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7037766115965005473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/10/cea-mai-frumoasa-zi.html' title='cea mai frumoasa zi'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-7858582376632029285</id><published>2009-09-29T14:21:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T15:39:49.278+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ultimele 10 zile ale unui pisoi. Putem sa-l salvam???</title><content type='html'>pariu cu viata sau moarte pisoiului. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zizu este genial. E intelept, dar jucaus, timid, dar afectuos. Alege omul la mustata si daca i te-ai infasurat sub coada, om zambitor scrie pe tine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zizu are 2 ani si doar 10 zile de trait. S-a pus un pariu intre doi stapani fara minte si se pare, fara suflet. Cei doi au stabilit asa: fie gasesc o casa de oameni inimosi care sa il primeasca pe acest bland pisoi, fie il alunga pe taramuri negre. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ce? Pentru ca pot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ce nu-l alunga va intrebati? pentru ca au mai facut asta si pisoiul s-a intors. de aceea, nu exista alta cale: ori dragoste de familie, ori moartea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am auzit acestea si m-am sensibilizat usor. Nu sunt o persoana altruista, dar nici moarte pisoiului nu doresc. Drept urmare, fac un apel catre cei care stiu si il pot ajuta pe Zizu. Haideti sa nu-l lasam sa moara. Pariul a fost facut, sentinta a fost data. nu ne ramane decat sa ii gasim o familie si sa-l salvam. Ceasul ticaie impotriva lui Zizu. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 zile! A inceput numaratoare inversa!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-7858582376632029285?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/7858582376632029285/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=7858582376632029285' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7858582376632029285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7858582376632029285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/09/ultimele-10-zile-ale-unui-pisoi-putem.html' title='Ultimele 10 zile ale unui pisoi. Putem sa-l salvam???'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-5082921109744756859</id><published>2009-09-29T09:53:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T11:04:17.410+03:00</updated><title type='text'>intimitate cu punct</title><content type='html'>intimitate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ce te faci cu politicul care este usor incompetent ca sa nu zic complet incompetent? ce te faci cu boculetz care pentru ca nu stie sa relanseze economia trage cu prastia. in cine s-o nimeri. poate poate ne scoate ochii si nu mai vedem dincolo de tam tamul diplomatic. nush ce naiba mi-a venit sa scriu despre politica intr-un post despre intimitate. pe principiul intimitatea-mintii-lor-ii-face-de-rusine poate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dar sa revenim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Conform dictionarului explicativ al limbii romane: INTIMITÁTE,  (3) intimităţi, s.f. 1. Calitatea a ceea ce este intim; prietenie bazată pe legături strânse. ♢ Expr. A trăi (sau a fi) în intimitatea cuiva = a avea legături strânse (de prietenie) cu cineva, a face parte dintre cunoştinţele apropiate ale cuiva. ♦ Profunzime, adâncime (a unui sentiment, a unui gând etc.). 2. Cadru limitat, cerc restrâns, familial. 3. (La pl.) Lucruri, chestiuni personale. – Din fr. intimité.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in meandrele concretului si completului muncitoresc in care ne scaldam si in care boc nu mai face poc deloc, intimitatea, asa cum este ea descrisa in dex, a devenit pseudointimitate. reviste animate de titluri interogative, halci generoase de internet in grasimea carora se imbiba detalii atat de personale incat ne plictisesc si, mai rau, un al tau care nu isi mai are stralucirea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;un pahar de santal de portocale rosii de sicilia mai tarziu mi-am dat seama ca intimitatea exista si ca, da, mai sunt sanse sa supravietuiasca. doar ca exista in formule restranse si bine lucrate, pastrata in locuri speciale pentru esentele tari. pentru ca intimitatea sa supravietuiasca, pentru ca cineva sa poata trai in intimitatea ta si sa iti faca placere, pentru ca in adancimea gandurilor tale sa poata trage cineva cu ochiul e nevoie de magie. nu de stiri, reviste, bloguri, site-uri cu "click pentru a mari poza". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cea mai frumoasa parte a definitiei este, pentru mine, "prietenie bazată pe legături strânse". o cacealma in ziua de azi. stranse cum? strangulate? legate bine sa nu scape? (con)sranse cu detalii? stranse laolalta cu altele nebune? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nu nu nu. e vorba tot de magie. trebuie sa stii formula nene. daca o stii, te-ai scos si ai parte de magic moments, magic lights, sau, chiar mai bine de a fucking good night sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;intimitate. ar trebui sa fie sloganul cu care sa ne incepem orice zi de azi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-5082921109744756859?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/5082921109744756859/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=5082921109744756859' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5082921109744756859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5082921109744756859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/09/intimitate-cu-punct.html' title='intimitate cu punct'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-8979617906721599236</id><published>2009-09-05T18:36:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T19:51:26.060+03:00</updated><title type='text'>camera de garda, mereu in garda</title><content type='html'>viata la urgente. m-am tot intrebat cum este sa fii de garda, ce inseamna sa ai de-a face zi si noapte cu suferina, cu lacrimi, sange si traumatisme?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"accidentele ma termina. avem zilnic cazuri care mai de care, dar accidentele ma termina. una este sa vezi un diabetic de 67 de ani si alta sa-ti vina un copilas de 9 ani in coma", povestea Vicky in drum spre Arad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ascultam curioasa si mi se lumina cu fiecare cuvant rostit, fiecare coltisor al camerei de garda. "fac ture de ani de zile si m-am obisnuit sa mananc noaptea. ma trezesc la 3 si la 5, in fiecare noapte chiar daca nu sunt de serviciu. e rutina", povesteste ea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dorinta mea de a sti mai mult ma indeamna la intrebari. si chestionez si chestionez de parca as fi nepoata lui Colombo. Intrebari comode si incomode, acide si fara perdea isi asteaptau raspunsul cu fiecare borna kilometrica. dupa 3 cocktailuri, un meniu KFC (apropos, in Sibiu e KFC drive-in:))si 16 melodii mai tarziu am aflat cateva intamplari pe care sigur n-am sa le uit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dintre toate accidentele relatate, unul a rezonat nespus cu fiinta mea: "intr-o seara, cand eram de garda, au venit la noi cativa tineri. fusese un accident dinspre Giurgiu. soferul, un tanar de 20 de ani, a venit pe picioare, vorbea si era coerent. prietena lui, o fata frumoasa, cu niste ochi mari, inteligenti, il urmarea cu privirea de pe targa. mai erau doi baieti de pe bancheta din spate pe care i-am urcat in Reanimare. asa cum era normal, am decis sa-l trimitem pe tanar la radiologie. Ionut il chema. N-o sa uit cate zile voi avea. Dar prietena lui, cu o prezenta de spirit si o premonitie extraordinara se ruga de noi: "lasati-ma sa-l mai vad o data. lasati-ma sa-l mai ating o data". Dr Vulcanescu, nervos din fire, a inceput sa tipe la ea. Am intervenit si i-am zis: domnule doctor, haide sa le apropiem targa! Esti nebuna, femeie! mi-a raspuns. Dar nu puteam sa-i las asa. ma uitam in ochii ei si ii intelegeam disperarea."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cu lacrimi in ochi o intreb pe vicky: si ce s-a intamplat? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"am apropiat targa si s-au pupat, s-au strans in brate de parca era pentru prima data. si fata-l mangaia si ii spunea ca il iubeste si ca mereu o sa se gandeasca la el. si iar il mangaia si iar il pupa. nervos, dr Vulcanescu a zis: gata, hai! in sectie cu el. Nici n-au ajuns bine la lift ca baiatul a lesinat. Coma profunda. L-am trimis de urgenta la Bucuresti. Traumatism intracranian! fata a ramas plangand..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am intors capul si am privit pe geam. peisajele rulau. ieseam din Deva, dar eu nu ma gandeam decat la cei doi tineri care avusesera accidentul. la fata care-l iubea atat de tare pe Ionut si la Ionut care intrase in coma. A fost un accident. ma gandeam automat la cum as fi reactionat daca as fi fost in locul ei. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"iti spun, accidentele ma termina", repeta Vicky, asistenta medicala, camera de garda. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viata ei se compune din accidente, cazuri grele, inacceptabile, din copii care plang si batrani neputinciosi. "am vazut atatea. m-am intrebat de multe ori cum e mai bine, mai usor, sa spui familiei ca baiatul lor, singura lor fata, tatal, unchiul sau bunica a murit. nu e usor. am plans de atatea ori pentru pacienti care veneau in urgenta. am plans cu familiile lor si am plans acasa. e o meserie in care depui suflet si care te consuma. dar trebuie sa mergi mai departe, orice ar fi", povestea Vicky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asa suntem si noi... although you like it or not... walk on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-8979617906721599236?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/8979617906721599236/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=8979617906721599236' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8979617906721599236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8979617906721599236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/09/camera-de-garda-mereu-in-garda.html' title='camera de garda, mereu in garda'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-1998993189452842396</id><published>2009-09-03T19:16:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T20:09:20.420+03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Barbatul de langa mine" - manifest de relatie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"n-am multe calitati si cu precadere nici una din cele care sa ma recomande pentru viata de cuplu. in sensul in care barbatii generatiei la care eu ma calific pentru seductie au fost educati in spiritul "femeii gospodine". Adica sotie sau nu, femeia cu care stai trebuie sa trebaluiasca domestic, sa stie a gati si a primi musafirii, sa fie preocupata de casa si nimicurile menajeriei. sa se ingrijeasca de camasile tale, de ordinea maruntisurilor casei, de bagajele deplasarii, de decorarea incaperilor, de rostul bucatariei, de pranzurile weekendurilor si de cina fiecarei seri. asa au apucat sa vada acasa la ei barbatii maturi ai zilelor noastre si asa au deprins ei din educatie ca arata femeia ideala.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;cum spuneam, nu  ma calific la nici unul intre criteriile domestice, asa incat mi-am radiografiat atent lista (sumara) a calitatilor prin care compensez cat de cat abaterea de la normele de cuplu. de ce ar sta un barbat (minunat) langa mine? de ce ar tolera un barbat (special) capriciile unei femei rebele care isi petrece toata ziua alergand intre intalniri si ajunge acasa la ore tarzii? de ce ar suporta un barbat (desavarsit) faptul ca lista prioritatilor mele nu include niciodata casa sau grijile ei? de ce s-ar supune un barbat (adorabil) unui orar nebun in care timpul liber incape doar in doze firave? si interogatiile mele perplexe pot continua pe pagini mai multe decat are cartea. doar ca restul intrebarilor vi le imaginati cu siguranta in timp ce raspunsul va va surprinde: pentru ca este liber!  A! nu liber in sensul petrecerii timpului. si asta, dar asta este valabil pentru majoritatea domnilor nostri. ci liber la minte, la preocupari, la a fi el insusi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in timp ce fuiorul defectelor mele s-ar desfasura nestingherit pe multe coloane, am gasit virtutea rara ce ma ridica in ochii barbatului de langa mine: n-am incercat niciodata sa-l schimb. nu i-am facut nicioata observatie, pentru nimic. n-am incercat sa-l modelez astfel incat sa semene cu personajele cartilor (s-a intamplat sa aduca a Fat-Frumos), n-am incercat sa-l transform astfel incat sa fie impecabil dupa criteriile mele. nu-i cer socoteala nicioata pentru timp, gesturi, intamplari, afirmatii sau detalii. isi traieste liber bucuriile, isi umple flexibil timpul, isi hraneste neigradit pasiunile, nu-si tese buzunarele, nu-si cifreaza numerele in mobil, nu-i obligat la explictii cand primeste sms-uri feminine. n-are reactie vinovata cand si-a patat cravata nu-si pleaca privirea de teama observatiilor mele cand a spart un pahar si nu intra in panica la gandul ca trebuie sa marturiseasca ciobirea masinii. nu-i nevoit sa insaileze o poveste cand ajunge tarziu, nu traieste stresul socotelilor banesti, nici pe cel al dependentei mele de el. barbatul de langa mine se comporta degajat, caci n-are corsetul privirilor mele acide, se exprima natural, caci nu l-as corecta nici daca se abate de la sensurile vreunui cuvant. &lt;br /&gt;barbatul meu frumos nu stie vinovatia in prezenta mea, nu stie sentimentul stingher, jena si nici privirea aspra. nu stie tacerile care pedepsesc si nici tonul ridicat al certurilor mele. si zambeste la fiecare revedere. pentru ca este fericit sa traiasca liber. &lt;br /&gt;am crezut intoteauna cu bigotism abstract in legea compensatiilor existentiale. functioneaza si in aluatul din care sunt eu plamadita. am cele mai multe si mai nesuferite dintre defecte, zau am cele mai neplacute dintre slabiciuni si mai respingatoare dintre vicii (adica fumez). dar am o calitate (poate singura) pe care am vazut-o rar in cupluri: aceea de a nu fi "femeie" (a se citi catza cicalitoare si posesiva); aceea de a nu ma manifesta zgomotos, violent, navalnic, gelos, critic, inchizitional. aceea de a nu vrea sa-l controlez sau sa-l schimb pe cel de langa mine. &lt;br /&gt;si nu inteleg pacatul perpetuu al femeilor de a dori sa-l tot modeleze diferit (cu pretentia ca-l poleiesc) pe barbatul de langa ele. e ca si cum ar fi fost candva perfect (ca doar de asta a decis sa-si puna viata in mainile lui) si brusc dupa aceea (desi lin in unele cazuri), ajunge sa musteasca de imperfectiuni pe care noroc ca-i ea prin preajma sa le estompeze. nu-i stupid? dupa cum condamnabila mi se pare cenzura pe dreptul lui de a flirta, de a vorbi si a se intalni cu alte domnite, de a trai bucuria ca lumea este plina de femei frumoase, cu farmec si de la care poate invata (eventual cum sa-si aprecieze mai mult partenera). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nu m-am straduit si nici nu as schimba nimic la el fiindca iubesc barbatul de langa mine pentru tot ceea ce este, pentru felul in care gandeste, pentru felul in care se comporta, pentru ascutimea mintii lui, pentru sufletul lui generos, pentru puterea de a se devota, pentru felul in care rade, vorbeste, se misca si arata. pentru felul in care stie sa fie fermecator in fata altor femei. pentru tandretea cuminte a fiecarei atingeri. pentru ca nu stie sa minta, sa ascunda, sa loveasca. si mai ales pentru ca parcurge viata cu zambet. bucuria lui de a trai liber, de a fi el insusi in fiecare moment, imi mangaie sufletul cu mult peste vanitatea de a fi vrut sa-mi fie vasal." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;multumesc mihaelei nicola ca mi-a amintit ceva ce uitasem sa mai fiu. imi recunosc greseala e a fi alunecat pe panta mediocritatii. admit pacatul de a fi constrans un suflet, inteleg ca nu in patul lui procust trebuie sa dormim. ma bucur ca mi-a fost data sansa sa gresesc pentru ca acum sa inteleg mai bine randurile ei. sunt fericita sa fi redescoperit cartea pentru ca am rememorat ce inseamna sa fii femeie puternica cu un barbat liber alaturi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-1998993189452842396?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/1998993189452842396/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=1998993189452842396' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1998993189452842396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1998993189452842396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/09/barbatul-de-langa-mine-manifest-de.html' title='&quot;Barbatul de langa mine&quot; - manifest de relatie'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4382569257812052527</id><published>2009-09-02T20:50:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T21:17:45.198+03:00</updated><title type='text'>vechea boala cronica</title><content type='html'>bolile cronice se instaleaza pe nepusa masa si raman nene mult si bine. sunt implacabile in asteptarea lor. sunt bune prietene in suferinta ta rutinizata si zambesc suav cand te schimonosesti de durere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tratamentul pentru o boala cronica este de multe ori insuficient pentru a invinge microbul. acesta, personaj bine insurubat in sistemul tau imunitar, se propaga uneori lent, alteori cu tinta neamanata, dar intotdeauna sigur, in tot trupu-ti. el se imprastie, tu incerci sa te aduni, el te cuprine, tu incerci sa te eliberezi, el te macina, tu te macini pentru el.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muritori. asta suntem: un trup carnos, uns cu ape rosii, o adiere de parfum uitat in colt de sifonier, o ureche muscata e o gura fierbinte, o mana stransa bine de un pachet de nervi. un trup care, rapus de boala, cade teapan, rece, mort. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;conform statisticilor, cancerul, diabetul si obezitatea, infarctul, astmul si alzheimer sunt responsabile de moartea multora intre noi. iar prevalenta pe boala este in continua crestere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;insa, incolo de acestea, exista o boala nespecificata in date. vechea boala cronica. aceleasi simptome. aceleasi reactii adverse. aceleasi stari de rau nedefinit, voma, imunitate scazuta, fotosensibilitate, dureri in capul pieptului, care cresc, cresc, cresc. o boala necrutatoare, care nu iarta pe nimeni, iar cei neatinsi nu se pot declara fericiti. cand se cronicizeaza, in interiorul tau simti o teama fierbinte, vezi negru in fata ochilor si doar atat. cand deja a prins teren in trupul tau slabit, jocul a fost facut. cartile au fost impartite. la drum de seara apare moartea. caci inima ta bolnava, inceteaza sa mai lupte. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vechea boala cronica nu are tratament. nici leac babesc. nu s-a nascut vaccinolog sa dea un antidot, nu am intalnit imunolog sa invinga prin terapie. nu exista savanti care sa fi gasit raspuns. intre timp toti au murit, rapusi de vechea boala cronica.&lt;br /&gt;nu se face transplant, nici robotica nu e suficient de avansata. raman rime zise in fata crucii si speranta pe care unii - cu suflet lipsa - incearca sa ti-o alunge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4382569257812052527?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4382569257812052527/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4382569257812052527' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4382569257812052527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4382569257812052527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/09/vechea-boala-cronica.html' title='vechea boala cronica'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2383647569501901054</id><published>2009-08-23T13:10:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T13:31:17.492+03:00</updated><title type='text'>totdeauna</title><content type='html'>poate nu stiati dar totdeauna dureaza 9 luni. &lt;br /&gt;poate nu v-a spus nimeni ca atunci cand te minte o face sa te protejeze. poate nu stii, dar acum, cand suferi si ti se indoaie corpul de dezamgire esti PROTEJAT. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poate nu vi s-a spus, dar Dumnezeu ne-a facut din iubire. este ce traiesc eu acum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poate ati crezut ca ce zice e adevarat, dar s-a dovedit a fi pipi in vant! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poate sperai ca inelul ala o sa stea. era prea larg ca sa ramana. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poate ai crezut ca o broasca, o planta in ghiveci, doi adidasi pereche, sarbatori si te iubesc in biserici inseamna pentru totdeauna. te-ai inselat. inseamna 9 luni care sunt mai putin de 12, care sunt mai putin de o eternitate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poate ai crezut ca "cu noi este Dumnezeu", ca el vrea in Cosmos. in loc de asta ai un totdeauna care tine 9 luni. nici macar 3 ani cum ne mint astia :)) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca ajungi sa stii ce gust are in gura dimineata, dar dupa doi ani iti spune ca nu te mai iubeste... ce faci cu intimitatea ta dezgolita? o pui pe raftul tradarii? si astept o noua gura? &lt;br /&gt;ce faci data viitoare? zici ok... hai si aici. stiu ca peste 2 ani voi ajunge de unde am plecat: in singuratate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de dragul a ce/cui au ajuns relatiile sa fie derizorii, perene, la misto?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2383647569501901054?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2383647569501901054/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2383647569501901054' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2383647569501901054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2383647569501901054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/08/totdeauna.html' title='totdeauna'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-969679914107919802</id><published>2009-08-23T12:59:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T13:00:21.387+03:00</updated><title type='text'>His eyes, with love</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aeTtvaIOgZA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aeTtvaIOgZA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-969679914107919802?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/969679914107919802/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=969679914107919802' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/969679914107919802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/969679914107919802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/08/his-eyes-with-love.html' title='His eyes, with love'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2988844876004704843</id><published>2009-08-23T10:31:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T11:36:03.456+03:00</updated><title type='text'>sperietoarea</title><content type='html'>am scris multe despre iubire. am crezut ca o inteleg si ca ii pot fi aproape. nu m-am inselat. am ales sa intru intr-o relatie care sa ma coasa, sa ma burduseasca bine si sa ma umple cu paie. acum arat ca o sperietoare de ciori: cu o forma bine definita, cu un scop precis, dar totusi sperietoare de ciori. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la acest nivel al existentei am ajuns constient. acum un an eram un manunchi de paie colo, cateva vreascuri ceva mai departe, o flanela uitata-n gard de cineva care s-a dezbracat in graba si un X marks za spot la care nu puteam sa ajung. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;urmand drumul caramizilor galbene, etaland un aer atotstiutor in ale diferentei notabile, cu o suprematie doar la nivel de retorica fata de cei din specia sa, a aparut el, un dorothy al vremurilor mele. pe principiul viata bate filmul, acest dorothy era baiat in primul rand si, mai mult decat atat, era unul croit pe fapte mari. cu o intuitie fabuloasa si-a dat seama de potentialul meu si a decis, calm si cu rabdare, sa ma adune si sa-mi dea o intrebuintare. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;paranteza rotunda&lt;/span&gt;: nu este ok ca, de teama singuratatii, de orgoliu prostesc, de incapacitatea de a te impaca sau reintoarce la fostul/fosta, din dorinta de a avea ceva ce de fapt nu poti avea sau nu stii sa ai, repet, nu este ok sa fii egoist si sa iti iei o jucarie care simte si gandeste si sa te joci cu ea asa cum te joci cu carpa de langa tine. este tipic masculin. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;inchidem paranteza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cu gandurile tulburi, cu sufletul indoit, cu mainile dibace si cu orgoliul uns pe brate, acest dorothy al anilor '80 si-a masluit un ideal de care s-a speriat. si a fugit spre plasa de siguranta pe care o intinde acum la fel de dibaci pe patul lui Procust. Dincolo de frica de singuratate, de comoditatea spritului, de timiditatea in lupta si de micimea gandirii, raman suflete deasupra carora troneaza un mare semn de intrebare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;partea buna a lucrurilor este ca in aceasta noua forma sunt lasata in X marks za spot, am invatat sa indic directia sa alung ciorile caraitoare si sa astept. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imi place sa am dreptate si imi place ca m-am eliberat, sperietoare sau nu, de imaginea diafana, serafica, angelica, boema si timida a unei infante. ma bucur ca am fost adunata si pusa aici. ma bucur sa am confirmarea capacitatii mele de a darui. nu m-am inselat cand simteam ca-i pot fi alaturi iubirii. astept un curios neinfricat care sa ma dea jos, sa scoata paiele ca sa se vada inima. astept un Oz care sa faca lumina.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2988844876004704843?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2988844876004704843/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2988844876004704843' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2988844876004704843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2988844876004704843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/08/sperietoarea.html' title='sperietoarea'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-6144570594068484489</id><published>2009-08-17T22:00:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T22:01:22.733+03:00</updated><title type='text'>M-am saturat…</title><content type='html'>L-am primit in dar: de la A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de Sun waves, Sun rise si oricare alte derivate. Dar rau de tot!!!&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de traficul de mizerie aferent acestor evenimente.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de baietasii de bani gata care cred ca mamica le-a cumparat si strada, nu numai decapotabila.&lt;br /&gt;M-am saturat de Pagal, Ghinea si alti roacheri convertiti in clubberi.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de manelistii convertiti in hausari.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de rromanes care incearca sa-ti fure portofelul cand ceri o apa plata la bar.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de controalele corporale fara mandat facute din orgoliu si plictiseala.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de namilele de la intrare care trateaza orice client platitor de bilet precum o ovina dintr-o turma. E asa de greu sa spui “Buna seara”, “Multumesc” si “Poftim”?&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat sa fiu impins si adresat cu “Degajeaza terenul!” pentru ca am facut greseala sa pasesc la zona VIP.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de  bulucul de lume care se strange la intrare. E chiar asa de greu pentru romani sa invete sa stea in sir indian?&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat sa o vad pe vara-mea de 15 ani si prietenele ei minore intrand la evenimente. Asa de rau au ajuns sa se prostitueze organizatorii in cursa lor interminabila pentu profit? E chiar asa o utopie sa se ceara buletinele la intrare?&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de evenimentele organizate in corturi jegoase. Altceva mai stiti sa faceti?&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de Luciano, Ricardo, Lee Burridge si de toti ceilalti Dj care urmeaza sa isi faca buletin de Romania. Vreau sa ii ascult la club pe James Holden, Gui Boratto, Marko Nastic, Popof si Derrick May.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de tocurile (cui sau nu) pe plaja.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de animelele frezate de la evenimente.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de zecile de copiii drogati care fac spume la gura sau isi dau ochii peste cap.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de preturile exorbitante la bautura din club, drept pentru care…&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat sa beau la non stop. Imi dau seama ca atat eu cat si cei care procedeaza ca mine lasa o usoare impresie de parvenire: dai 40-50 de ron pe o intrare, dar bei Ursus si V33.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de oamenii care nu se pot distra decat chimic. De cei ce baga H, K, boabe, cocs, poppers sau regi.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de cei care vin cu ochelari de soare noaptea la evenimente. Dar rau de tot!&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de cei ce varsa pe ei 50 ml de parfum de fiecare data cand ies la eveniment.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de cei ce se imbraca kitsch, dar cred ca se imbraca extravagant.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de cei care vin la evenimente, dar habar nu au cine pune muzica sau ce muzica baga. “Frate, dar Luciano cand intra?” Era la pupitru deja…&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de cei ce toarna filme porno pe canapele.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de curvetul de lux de la Bamboo care vine sa-l asculte pe Luciano.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de El baile, Albertino, Slagare sau alte mizerii comerciale.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de oamenii care au ajuns Dj dupa ce au fost jurnalisti, au montat cortul la Sunwaves 1 sau au taiat bratari la Session.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de sound-ul si productiile [a:rpia:r]. Vreau o muzica care sa imi suscite si  intelectul, nu numai baschetii.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de cei 987 de dobitoci care m-au calcat aseara pe bombeuri si nu si-au cerut scuze. Sau de cei 123 care au varsat whiskey pe mine…&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de covorul de sticle, pet uri si mucuri de tigara aruncate pe jos care se strange in cursul fiecarui eveniment. E chiar asa de greu sa instalezi niste cosuri de gunoi?&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de o scena de clubbing care se vrea matura, dar merge pe o directie muzicala lina precum electrocardiograma unui cadavru.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat sa fiu privit precum un drogat de cei care o ard glam la mese cand dansez in nestire pe o piesa care chiar imi place.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat sa ascund ceea ce sunt de fapt: clubber-ul elitist care sta intr-un colt si analizeaza atent constructia si calitatea unui gig. Nu-mi ajuta la nimic.&lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat de drogatii de la after. &lt;br /&gt; M-am saturat sa fiu dezamagit…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-6144570594068484489?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/6144570594068484489/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=6144570594068484489' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6144570594068484489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6144570594068484489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/08/m-am-saturat.html' title='M-am saturat…'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-5989610871042967346</id><published>2009-08-17T20:45:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T21:07:19.290+03:00</updated><title type='text'>promisiuni la indigo</title><content type='html'>rutina promisiunilor din dragoste. blazarea prin sentiment. cliseul din inima. dorinta de a avea ceva, exprimat prin cuvinte, dat la o parte prin fapte. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;citeam azi un mail pe care fostul meu prieten il scrisese iubitei lui de atunci. prima de dupa mine. as fi putut cita din memorie dorinta lui de "a fi impreuna, de a fi fericiti mereu". modul in care el recunostea ca ea si numai ea este "cea mai iubitoare, tandra si grijulie fata". identificam emotia cu care i-a scris si aproape ca ii puteam atribui grimase pentru ca erau aceleasi pe care le facea cu mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;relatiile sunt o eterna cautare, o perpetua dorinta de implinire a unui vis pe care, in fapt, nu il vrem implinit. daca ai ce-ti doresti tinzi sa te intorci la ce ai avut. daca pierzi ce ai avut... iti dai seama ca era ce aveai nevoie. rar avem capacitatea de a identifica in timpul relatiei grozavul pe care il cautam si culmea! il avem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;citeam mailul si recunosteam promisiuile facute de unul si de altul si chiar si de el, za one, diferitul. eu nu sunt ca toti ceilalti, my ass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cei care nu sunt ok.. nu se schimba..asa cum nici eu nu o sa ma schimb nici macar de dragul promisiunii. e aiurea sa fi suferit inainte sa cunosti iubirea pentru ca nu o mai recunosti. ea vine si...dupa o vizita relativ scurta in decursul unei vieti... o conduci la gara si-i spui sa astepte trenul urmator. iar tu te duci spre autostrada si decizi sa faci autostopul cu norocul pe umar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;reciteam mailul si ma frapa limitarea care exista in declaratiile de dragoste. aceleasi cuvinte, aceleasi siroposenii, acelasi "te voi iubi mereu" - un mereu curmat de o noua iubire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"sunt multe de zis ,dar dupa parerea mea, distanta e motivul principal.&lt;br /&gt;eu nu vreau sa te pierd, nici acum, ...., nici&lt;br /&gt;vreodatta,si o sa tin de tine cu dintii , si tu sa faci la fel,te rog&lt;br /&gt;!!!! Te iubesc si esti tot ce miam dort vreodata si kiar vreau sa fii&lt;br /&gt;a mea toata viata ..... si peste timpul asta care&lt;br /&gt;mai e pana atunci trebuie sa trecem,ca de atunci,,,,nimik nu ne va mai&lt;br /&gt;despartii.&lt;br /&gt;hai k mai vb si LIVE despre astea. dar tiam zis asa .... k sa stii .&lt;br /&gt;T pup. Si Te Iubesc !!!!&lt;br /&gt;D la ingerashul tau  !!! ii spunea el ei intr-unul din mailuri. &lt;br /&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sursa n-am s-o dezvalui..dar ia ghiciti ce s-a intamplat: el si ea nu mai sunt impreuna de atunci. el este cu alta fata acum pe care o iubeste, iar ea este inca libera. am intalnit-o o data la roblogfest si parea ok. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as vrea sa luati o pauza si sa va ganditi cate promisiuni ati facut, cate promisiuni v-au fost facute. eu nu le mai tin seama. imi amintesc un ultim mail pe care l-am scris. mi-am incalcat promisiunea si probabil ca am sa mai fac asta. exercitii pentru suflet sau nepricepere? este o eroare de calcul pe care mi-o asum cu ziua de maine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-5989610871042967346?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/5989610871042967346/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=5989610871042967346' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5989610871042967346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5989610871042967346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/08/promisiuni-la-indigo.html' title='promisiuni la indigo'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2454138085788937042</id><published>2009-08-06T22:34:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T22:44:56.010+03:00</updated><title type='text'>cam atat</title><content type='html'>cat de departe este inima de creier&lt;br /&gt;cat de putine stiu unul despre celalalt. &lt;br /&gt;cat de departe sunt oameni care sunt impreuna &lt;br /&gt;cat de aproape sunt cei aflati la km distanta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cat de departe este ratiunea de simtire &lt;br /&gt;cat de neatenti suntem unul cu celalat&lt;br /&gt;cat de putine auzim din vacarmul vietii&lt;br /&gt;cat de multe uitam cand nu le mai avem &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cat de departe sunt polul sud si polul nord&lt;br /&gt;cat de inghetati sunt amandoi &lt;br /&gt;cat de monocromi sunt unul cu celalalt&lt;br /&gt;cat de multe lumi nasc impreuna...fara sa stie &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cat de multe simte inima&lt;br /&gt;cat de putin intelege creierul &lt;br /&gt;cat de multe ascunde orgoliul &lt;br /&gt;cat de putine au ramas de spus..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2454138085788937042?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2454138085788937042/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2454138085788937042' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2454138085788937042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2454138085788937042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/08/cam-atat.html' title='cam atat'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-8417812576902259407</id><published>2009-08-02T19:28:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T19:47:59.711+03:00</updated><title type='text'>decizia ca factor de autoconservare</title><content type='html'>puterea omului este incomensurabila. puterea de regenerare, este, de asemenea, infinita. cu 130 km la ora, in stanga moarte, in dreapta sange, viata pare o ruleta ruseasca. si chiar este... nu poti sti cand va fi momentul in care totul este redus la 0. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mi-a spus cineva recent ca "life is the reason" - in traducere libera, usor filozofica, suntem exclusiv rezultatul deciziilor noastre. iar momentul dedicat luarii deciziei nu trebuie cautat, el trebuie sa fie spontan si ales in raport predominant cu Sinele tau. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;orice decizie, daca este luata in acord cu structura noastra rationalo-irationala, este decizia corecta. sunt, binenteles, intrebari ce se nasc dupa. precum sindromul post-achizitionare - cand vrei sa te asiguri ca ai cumprat ceea ce trebuia, la pretul cel mai ieftin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca o decizie se dovedeste a fi corecta pentru tine, dar incorecta pentru altii, atunci ea este general corecta? i se schimba functia? trebuie sa ne privim prin ochii nostri sau prin ochii lor? cine sau ce ne reflecta cu adevarat? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trecutul, prezentul si viitorul: trecutul la nivel decizitional, prezentul ca si context, iar viitorul ca si capacitate de dezvoltare. pentru toate acestea este nevoie de putere, de forta, de tarie, de multe intrebari si tot atatea raspunsuri, este nevoie de rasarituri de soare si multa motorina. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dat fiind jocul pe care-l jucam si posibilitatea ca un alt maine sa nu existe, nu ne ramane decat sa traim fiecare moment la intensitate maxima. ce a fost nu se mai intoarce, ce va fi este incert, ce este acum esti tu, rezultat al celor ce le-ai decis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-8417812576902259407?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/8417812576902259407/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=8417812576902259407' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8417812576902259407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8417812576902259407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/08/decizia-ca-factor-de-autoconservare.html' title='decizia ca factor de autoconservare'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-955443010601191789</id><published>2009-07-08T16:07:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T16:10:43.757+03:00</updated><title type='text'>From MJ, with love</title><content type='html'>Daca ar fi sa aleg neste versuri de amor si sa le recit cu un mare nod in gat la o eventuala ceremonie...as vrea sa fie de la baiatul asta care muri de tinerel....nu de alta, dar sunt...za BEST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Our Darkest Hour&lt;br /&gt;In My Deepest Despair&lt;br /&gt;Will You Still Care?&lt;br /&gt;Will You Be There?&lt;br /&gt;In My Trials&lt;br /&gt;And My Tripulations&lt;br /&gt;Through Our Doubts&lt;br /&gt;And Frustrations&lt;br /&gt;In My Violence&lt;br /&gt;In My Turbulence&lt;br /&gt;Through My Fear&lt;br /&gt;And My Confessions&lt;br /&gt;In My Anguish And My Pain&lt;br /&gt;Through My Joy And My Sorrow&lt;br /&gt;In The Promise Of Another Tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;I'll Never Let You Part&lt;br /&gt;For You're Always In My Heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks M, for being there for me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-955443010601191789?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/955443010601191789/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=955443010601191789' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/955443010601191789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/955443010601191789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/07/from-mj-with-love.html' title='From MJ, with love'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2389272932144377520</id><published>2009-07-08T00:03:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T00:37:32.106+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Iubirea</title><content type='html'>cuvinte precum niciodata, mereu, pentru totdeauna sunt spontane, cu continut efemer si folosit ca strategie de invaluire a inamicului. &lt;br /&gt;mereu m-am intrebat si o sa ma intreb: daca iubirea exista cu adevarat si daca ea face asta, cum o recunosti? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;este iubirea aceea neinteleasa si ramasa atarnata in trecut, este iubirea responsabila pentru o copila batuta de soarta, este iubirea pentru care plangi pana nu-ti mai poti inchide ochii, este iubirea careia ii scrii epistole neexpediate, este iubirea care te consuma fizic si moral, este iubirea regasita, este iubirea aparent moarta, aparent resuscitabila, este iubirea nebuna, fara frontiere, este iubirea de pe mess cu &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;x is typing a message&lt;/span&gt;, este iubirea care moare dupa 20 de ani de casnicie, trei copii si-un al patrulea nedeclarat?; este iubirea care-ti trimite decizii si urari de bine, este iubirea care te calca in picioare si-ti tavaleste paturica din copilarie prin noroi, este iubirea care rade de tine, este iubirea care-ti face unghiile de la picioare sau cea care se apleaca sa-ti fie alaturi? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iubirea vine din Rai sau din Iad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iubirea se conserva in suflete si borcane etichetate cu amintiri, iubirea se stocheaza in foldere cu muzica, filme, linkuri si bloguri prost scrise. Iubirea nu-ti strange portiera ca sa te simti sa pleci, iubirea nu promite, ea face. iubirea nu se plimba in nori, nici cu suflete lipite, nici in buzunare cu urme de cuie, iubirea e interzisa celor puternici si masluita pentru cei descurcareti; iubirea nu rasuna din casti de Iphone, ea se sopteste la ureche, iubirea nu se paraseste... daca se paraseste...ea nu exista; iubirea iti da liniste si zambete aparente; prima iubire nu lasa loc de o a doua, pentru ca fantoma ei e indurerata, iubirea e tampenie in care crezi pentru ca simti, iubirea este pretutindeni si putini o gasesc exclusiv in jumatati de masura, iar cei mai putini dintre ei reusesc s-o faca eterna, nu doar s-o numeasca eterna.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2389272932144377520?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2389272932144377520/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2389272932144377520' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2389272932144377520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2389272932144377520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/07/iubirea.html' title='Iubirea'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-6736463248002814010</id><published>2009-07-07T23:34:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T23:56:08.200+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Inapoi</title><content type='html'>Ambreiaj. Marsalier si rotile se pun in miscare. Masina trece repede, din ce in ce mai repede printre paturi cu cearsafuri imbibate cu sex, printre drumuri spre Mega si bucatarii inghesuite luate cu chirie de toamna, printre rafturi cu supe la plic si plimbari in Cismigiu; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accelerez. Se deruleaza filme si filmulete pe youtube, discutii despre rautati si imposibilitati. Merg asa repede incat de-abia mai pot vedea balcoanele si teii, de-abia zaresc avioanele decoland si aterizand, intr-o clipita a trecut cada cu spuma in care s-a lasat sampanie si scrum de tigara, cada in care doi insi pareau a se iubi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce minune a tehnicii, mi-am zis! Din nou viteza: doi cai frumosi de la Transilvania :)) si o schimbare rapida de masini, nu zaresc numarul, dar pare oltean; trec zile de primavara si nopti de iarna zgomotoase, trec toate si se duc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frana. Brusc. Opresc masina si cobor: inapoi la infinitele posibilitati. Inapoi la search-uri si research-uri dupa Platon si Umberto Eco. Inapoi la vise si New York. Inapoi la viata fara puls si umbre desucheate; inapoi la singular, inapoi la ce stiam si acum nu mai stiu. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mersul prin viata e ca sofatul. Greu la inceput, iti mai moare motorul, te mai loveste cineva din plin, dar... in lipsa unui avocat al apararii pledezi singur: vinovat, am depasit viteza legala.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-6736463248002814010?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/6736463248002814010/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=6736463248002814010' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6736463248002814010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6736463248002814010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/07/inapoi.html' title='Inapoi'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-508737280622772978</id><published>2009-07-07T16:03:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T16:29:15.714+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Dealer din dragoste</title><content type='html'>Dragostea este perversa. te ademeneste si te face sa visezi ca poti fi mai mult decat esti. dragostea promite nemurirea. dragostea este un drog, mai puternic decat LSD-ul care, desi cu o picatura poate omori mase, nu le poate distruge sufletul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un israelian mi-a spus ca inima are grija de suflet, iar rinichii sunt creierul care ne ghideaza prin palpabil. Asa gredeau vechii intelepti. Daca rinichilor le dai LSD, ei vor ajunge sa functioneze perfect, creativ, inimaginabil. Lumea lor nu va fi insa reala. Daca inimii ii dai dragoste, ea inflorestre. Si ajunge rotunda, pufoasa si moale ca sa-l citez pe Manny, Ice Age 3. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar, ca orice floare, rara, firava, speciala, se ofileste. Se usuca...si moare. Dragostea nu e drog pentru o viata.&lt;em&gt; E nevoie sa greseti o data ca sa intelegi ce inseamna sa iubesti cu adevarat. E nevoie sa pierzi o data ce-ti doreai mai mult ca sa intelegi ce ai de facut data viitoare. E nevoie sa stii O DATA cat rau poate face dragostea, ca sa nu mai repeti greseala.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asa credeam eu cand eram mica. Asa gandeam eu naiv, ca orice copil al Pandorei. Imi lasasera speranta ca... poate... consumata in doza potrivita si procurata de la cel mai bun dealer, ea nu va fi fatala. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar chiar si cel mai bun dealer poate minti. Asa cum cel mai experimentat bucatar japonez poate uita putina otrava in fugu, asa poate gresi si el. Pentru ca la randu-i consuma dragoste, pentru ca la randu-i a inflorit, pentru ca la randu-i e om. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dragostea e legatura dintre o floare, un dealer si un scriitor. Acesta din urma n-a avut cuvinte, floarea n-a avut uitare, iar dealerul nici urma de rinichi. Pe toti i-a unit dragostea si acum unul isi primeste supradoza.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-508737280622772978?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/508737280622772978/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=508737280622772978' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/508737280622772978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/508737280622772978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/07/dealer-din-dragoste.html' title='Dealer din dragoste'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-5999700005466240438</id><published>2009-07-03T10:39:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T11:02:38.689+03:00</updated><title type='text'>fara cuvinte</title><content type='html'>mi-am pierdut cuvintele. radeam acum cativa ani de Marele Prost (un baiat de vreo 19 ani caruia ii era imposibil sa lege 2 propozitii consecutive cu un P, un Sb si cel Putin un Cd langa) si de incompetenta lui. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acum, pe principiul nu-rade-cand-esti-mic-ca-te-doare-cand-esti-mare, ei bine, nu mai am cuvinte. le-am pierdut intelesul, esenta, rafinamentul, maleabilitatea. am incetat sa mai brodez pomposenii si fraze imposibil de descifrat. sau... in fine...le descifrau astia mici, care ma stiu si ma pot ghici printre randuri. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;senzatia staruie de ceva vreme. si-mi amintesc acum un post pe care l-am scris acum cativa ani in care tastam cu efervescenta concuziile unei plimbari de doua statii de metrou. eram atat de surescitata de informatia primita incat cuvintele dadeau navala, asemeni unei ploi musonice. ce sa fac daca abundenta informatiei de calitate ma fascineaza?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cuvintele mele, adunate in sertare educate, au ars si ma uit in ochii lor mirati, asa cum se uita Hitler in ochii copiilor din lagare, si ma intreb: de ce le-am lasat sa piara? le-am lasat eu, m-au lasat ele sau trebuie eliberat locul pentru altceva? mai bun sau mai important? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am vazut o carte, &lt;em&gt;inteligenta materiei&lt;/em&gt; daca nu ma insel, pe care mi-o doresc atat de tare incat am sa o iau astazi. poate ea stie sa-mi explice cum am ajuns in situatia aceasta. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imi lipsesc discutiile inteligente interminabile, cu surse bogate din carti dolofane, imi lipsesc teoriile si intrebarile retorice, mi-e sete de cunoastere si stiinta si ma topesc fara concluziile savantilor. as adulmeca niste cercetare antropologica si nu m-as plictisi in fata unei table cu formule; as visa cu Eminescu stele de neatins si as lua urma civilizatiilor moarte. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acum totul e video, e&lt;em&gt; gen&lt;/em&gt; cutare si cutare, totul e ce am facut si ce vom face... e flasc, e o rutina dupa coada careia ma invart si n-am cuvinte s-o opresc. m-as aseza cu burta pe cartea de geopolitica, dar mi-e teama ca n-as vedea intelesul. as dormi sub clar de luna invelita cu harta fizica a lumii, dar ma vor intepa Pirineii. as bea cafea, apa sau vin; as fuma pipe si trabucuri, as lasa somnul de-o parte numai sa am cuvinte sa vorbesc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-5999700005466240438?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/5999700005466240438/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=5999700005466240438' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5999700005466240438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5999700005466240438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/07/fara-cuvinte.html' title='fara cuvinte'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2640416519614754081</id><published>2009-06-26T09:41:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T10:01:52.834+03:00</updated><title type='text'>No more Michael Jackson</title><content type='html'>o vineri dimineata banala. ceasul suna la 7:45. Nu era nimic de facut asa ca n-avea rost sa ma trezesc, ca de obicei, la 7:10. Dau drumul la TV. Din nou sonorul prea tare. Din nou muult prea dimineata. Prea multa lene. &lt;br /&gt;Reclame pe PRO TV. Asteptam cuminte sub pilota sa vina stirile, sa treaca vremea cu Busu, ca sa aflam cum va fi ziua de la Neti. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar la stiri, soc si groaza: a murit Michael Jackson. Adica, regele muzicii pop, care urma sa faca 51 de ani, a murit dintr-un stop cardiac. Adica azi noapte, in timp ce scriam despre ecosistemele sonore... Michael murea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thriller, Dirty Diana, Keep it in the closet, The way you make me feel, Just friends si mult mult mai multe decat, all gone. Baiatului care refuza sa creasca, the neverland michael, i s-a daruit astazi eternitatea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e o zi de tinut minte. caci un star ca michael nu se va mai naste prea curand. &lt;br /&gt;adio, michael..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2640416519614754081?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2640416519614754081/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2640416519614754081' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2640416519614754081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2640416519614754081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/06/no-more-michael-jackson.html' title='No more Michael Jackson'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4233201864554240820</id><published>2009-06-25T15:44:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T15:48:33.367+03:00</updated><title type='text'>De ce, copile?</title><content type='html'>Gandacelul, de Elena Farago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-De ce m-ai prins in pumnul tau,&lt;br /&gt;Copil frumos, tu nu stii oare&lt;br /&gt;Ca-s mic si eu si ca ma doare&lt;br /&gt;De ce ma strangi asa de rau?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Copil ca tine sunt si eu,&lt;br /&gt;Si-mi place sa ma joc si mie,&lt;br /&gt;Si mila trebuie sa-ti fie&lt;br /&gt;De spaima si de plansul meu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ce sa vrei sa ma omori?&lt;br /&gt;Ca am si eu parinti ca tine,&lt;br /&gt;Si-ar plange mama dupa mine,&lt;br /&gt;Si-ar plange bietele surori,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si-ar plange tata mult de tot&lt;br /&gt;Caci am trait abia trei zile,&lt;br /&gt;Indura-te de ei, copile,&lt;br /&gt;Si lasa-ma, ca nu mai pot!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asa plangea un gandacel&lt;br /&gt;In pumnul ce-l strangea sa-l rupa&lt;br /&gt;Si l-a deschis copilul dupa&lt;br /&gt;Ce n-a mai fost nimic din el!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A incercat sa-l mai invie&lt;br /&gt;Suflandu-i aripile-n vant,&lt;br /&gt;Dar a cazut in tarna frant&lt;br /&gt;Si-ntepenit pentru vecie!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scarbit de fapta ta cea rea&lt;br /&gt;Degeaba plangi, acum, copile,&lt;br /&gt;Ci du-te-n casa-acum si zi-le&lt;br /&gt;Parintilor isprava ta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si zi-le ca de-acum ai vrea&lt;br /&gt;Sa ocrotesti cu bunatate,&lt;br /&gt;In cale-ti, orice vietate,&lt;br /&gt;Oricat de far-de-nsemnatate&lt;br /&gt;Si-oricat de mica ar fi ea!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4233201864554240820?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4233201864554240820/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4233201864554240820' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4233201864554240820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4233201864554240820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/06/de-ce-copile.html' title='De ce, copile?'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2720535676514100230</id><published>2009-06-24T12:08:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T12:31:08.030+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuciuriul de la 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"tuciuriule, mi-e dor de tine si vreau sa ne vedem". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;atat scria in mailul din inbox. socat, uimit si dornic de reply, tuciuriul se apuca sa tasteze repejor. pe ascuns, ca si cand ar impartasi cu ea secretul facerii lumii, dadu send si dus a fost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;calatoria mailului prin meandrele internetului nu dura mult. pret de un sughitz. emotia regasirii, traspusa in literele digitale, nerabdarea nevederii, incinsa cu poze recente si taifasuri nocturne, toate l-au acaparat pe tuciuriu si i-au adus zambetul pe buze. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ce vis tampit! si ce real parea totul. un scurt metraj 6D la 6 dimineata. armonia asternutului verde mlastinos s-a disipat o data cu fulgerul care a luminat incaperea. pe balcon ploua de rupea. nu rupea nimic, doar expresia. in iarba din fata blocului greierii amutisera speriati ca a venit toamna. in camera roia fantoma vecinei de vis-a-vis moarta de o saptamana. un cot mai incolo dormea o blonda cu accent rusesc. &lt;br /&gt;"tuciuriule, mi-e dor de tine si vreau sa ne vedem" ii staruia in minte si oricate oi sareau gardul lui Mos Ene, "tuciuriule, mi-e dor de tine si vreau sa ne vedem" sarea o data cu ele.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2720535676514100230?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2720535676514100230/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2720535676514100230' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2720535676514100230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2720535676514100230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/06/tuciuriul-de-la-6.html' title='Tuciuriul de la 6'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-7477066915717363969</id><published>2009-06-23T10:00:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:15:59.588+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ploaia din trecut</title><content type='html'>Se implineste un an de cand lumea s-a schimbat. Un an animat de balciuri si povesti, dar fara urma a ce a fost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tot inainte am mers de teama ca, daca ma voi intoarce, ma voi pietrifica. In nopti ploioase ca aseara, cand fulgera si pe loc se lumineaza cerul, vad. Vad clar crampeie de trecut si ma intreb: cat timp are sa mai treaca pentru ca el, trecutul, sa nu se mai intoarca? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi se sugruma gatul de emotie, si palmele-mi transpira si in piept se-agita inima, de teama ca va plange iara. Nu-i chip s-o linistesc, nici somn nu am s-astern visarea peste. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tot inainte merg, acum sa vreau nu-i cale inapoi. Cand timpul trece si prezentul se aduna peste tot ce ai avut, raman doar noptile ploioase care, din viitor se vor asterne uscate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-7477066915717363969?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/7477066915717363969/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=7477066915717363969' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7477066915717363969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7477066915717363969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/06/ploaia-din-trecut.html' title='Ploaia din trecut'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-1206228602834898258</id><published>2009-05-28T21:22:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T21:25:18.230+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Za Zuper Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Sh7W7Jf_5pI/AAAAAAAAAFA/k_QZcxK8QRw/s1600-h/my+super+girl.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Sh7W7Jf_5pI/AAAAAAAAAFA/k_QZcxK8QRw/s320/my+super+girl.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340942519758743186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can tell by the way, she walks that she's my girl&lt;br /&gt;You can tell by the way, she talks that she rules the world.&lt;br /&gt;You can see in her eyes that no one is her chain.&lt;br /&gt;She's my girl, my supergirl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd say, it's Ok, I got lost on the way&lt;br /&gt;but I'm a supergirl, and supergirls don't cry.&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd say, it's alright, I got home late tast night,&lt;br /&gt;but I'm a supergirl, and supergirls just fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd say that nothing can go wrong.&lt;br /&gt;When you're in love, what can go wrong?&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd laugh the nightime into day&lt;br /&gt;pushing her fear further long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd say, it's Ok, I got lost on the way&lt;br /&gt;but I'm a supergirl, and supergirls don't cry.&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd say, it's alright, I got home, late last night&lt;br /&gt;but I'm a supergirl, and supergirls just fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd shout down the line tell me she's got no more time&lt;br /&gt;'cause she's a supergirl, and supergirls don't hide.&lt;br /&gt;And then she'd scream in my face, tell me that leave, leave this place&lt;br /&gt;'cause she's a supergirl, and supergirls just fly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she's a supergirl, a supergirl,&lt;br /&gt;she's sewing seeds, she's burning trees&lt;br /&gt;She's sewing seeds, she's burning trees,&lt;br /&gt;yes, she's a supergirl, a supergirl, a supergirl, my supergirl..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-1206228602834898258?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/1206228602834898258/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=1206228602834898258' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1206228602834898258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1206228602834898258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/za-zuper-girl.html' title='Za Zuper Girl'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Sh7W7Jf_5pI/AAAAAAAAAFA/k_QZcxK8QRw/s72-c/my+super+girl.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-3726917142156560468</id><published>2009-05-26T11:59:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T12:03:31.248+03:00</updated><title type='text'>ca la inceput</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Shuvqz7eLuI/AAAAAAAAAE4/U67mk5aHCDE/s1600-h/love.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 132px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Shuvqz7eLuI/AAAAAAAAAE4/U67mk5aHCDE/s320/love.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340054933206871778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tocmai am primit-o!&lt;br /&gt;Imi amintesc dimineata in care am ajuns la serviciu si imi schimbase desktopul. Era o foto of za tiger si Sugar scris delicat intr-o parte. frumoasele inceputuri care continua :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-3726917142156560468?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/3726917142156560468/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=3726917142156560468' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3726917142156560468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3726917142156560468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/ca-la-inceput.html' title='ca la inceput'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Shuvqz7eLuI/AAAAAAAAAE4/U67mk5aHCDE/s72-c/love.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-8906918679776265027</id><published>2009-05-26T10:05:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T10:12:42.038+03:00</updated><title type='text'>floare de cires</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/ShuVNhRsoRI/AAAAAAAAAEw/_fmeKvnLeso/s1600-h/clip_image003.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/_JhfAKz2m0V4/ShuVNhRsoRI/AAAAAAAAAEw/_fmeKvnLeso/s320/clip_image003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340025842681291026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/ShuVNf2g-3I/AAAAAAAAAEo/92cH8uk0p3E/s1600-h/clip_image002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/ShuVNf2g-3I/AAAAAAAAAEo/92cH8uk0p3E/s320/clip_image002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340025842298846066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/ShuVNJSIz7I/AAAAAAAAAEg/5F6DOCvFzxc/s1600-h/clip_image001.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/_JhfAKz2m0V4/ShuVNJSIz7I/AAAAAAAAAEg/5F6DOCvFzxc/s320/clip_image001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340025836240687026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Floarea de cires a devenit, in timp, un simbol al Japoniei.&lt;br /&gt;Se spune ca primavara vine cu adevarat atunci cand infloresc ciresii. Japonezii par a sti cel mai bine asta si in explozia de flori albe si roz cu parfum delicat devine o adevarata sarbatoare nationala ce tine cateva zile, la inceput de aprilie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;„Hanami" desemneaza, in limba japoneza, placerea de a admira florile, lasand sufletul sa se incarce de energie binefacatoare. Cuvantul e folosit in mod special pentru a desemna „privitul florilor de cires" in cadrul unui adevarat festival „la iarba verde", din programul caruia nu pot lipsi cantecele si dansurile traditionale si intalnirea cu cei apropiati.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;„Sakura" inseamna, in japoneza, „cires". Exista in „Tara Soarelui Rasare" cateva sute de soiuri de cires, majoritatea fiind cultivate pentru florile lor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;„Heian Jiday" (perioada Dinastiei Heian, sec. VII-XII) marcheaza inceputul istoriei acestei sarbatori, dar timp de cateva secole, „Hanami" a fost apanajul Imparatului si nobililor de la Curte. Ulterior, plantatiile de cires au aparut in jurul templelor si in sate, floarea de cires devenind un simbol al Japoniei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce se spune despre floarea de cires: &lt;br /&gt;- Simbolizeaza frumusetea si puritatea &lt;br /&gt;- Aduce noroc celor care o privesc &lt;br /&gt;- Aduce pace si iubire in familie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-8906918679776265027?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/8906918679776265027/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=8906918679776265027' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8906918679776265027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8906918679776265027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title='floare de cires'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/ShuVNhRsoRI/AAAAAAAAAEw/_fmeKvnLeso/s72-c/clip_image003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-8247151865883253299</id><published>2009-05-25T21:40:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T22:09:34.645+03:00</updated><title type='text'>destine</title><content type='html'>pe 24 mai, 2009, o lebada neagra care poate ajunge in apa la un metru adancime, a fost adusa in parcul Cismigiu din Bucuresti. In acest timp, Fred si Wilma s-au oprit pe Lascar catargiu si analizau speciile de cactusi din Idea Cactus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doua strazi mai incolo, intoarsa de la prima intalnire, Angelique isi scotea buretii din sutien si-i aseza unul peste altul in sertarul cu chiloti. 10 minute mai tarziu, vecina ei de la 4 primea un telefon cu taxa inversa: singurul baiat plecat in Australia murise muscat de crocoil.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Exact in acel moment, undeva in Delta, doi tineri isi povesteau scene din filmul preferat. Unul distre ei a stranutat puternic si a umplut cu saliva fatza celuialt. acesta i-a spus ca uraste sa simta mirosul de saliva care ramaen pe piele dupa ce aceasta s-a uscat asa cum uraste sa gaseasca ud capacul de WC. Nu-i placea nici mirosul interiorului gumat al capacelor de bere si nici sa i se lipeasca guma de pantofi. Ii placea, in schimb, mirosul de paine proaspata si senzatia de usurare imediat dupa ce facea pipi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lui Salinger nu-i placea sa-l doara capul cand se trezea la 3 dupa-masa, sa simta miros de tigare inainte s-o fumeze el pe prima, nu-i placea sa-si taie unghiile insa iubea la nebunie sa miroasa hainele altora uitate la el. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 ani mai tarziu, pe acelasi bulevard, doi fosti iubiti se revedeau pentru prima data. nestiind ce sa-si spuna au trecut unul pe langa altul: dezamagiti, inca iubind. la exact 4 ore dupa, unul din ei moare subit, fiind lovit de un motociclist incepator. ea a trait apoi cu ideea ca el s-a sinucis din iubire. &lt;br /&gt;s-a sinucis si ea cu o supradoza. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;conform educatiei primite, Wilma a dat la teatru. Joaca acum, cand eu scriu randurile acestea cu Verdana, prima ei piesa de teatru - "Viata de cactus", in regia lui Fred Letoin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-8247151865883253299?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/8247151865883253299/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=8247151865883253299' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8247151865883253299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8247151865883253299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/destine.html' title='destine'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4396239395137890986</id><published>2009-05-24T18:59:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T19:00:18.085+03:00</updated><title type='text'>de ce e bine sa fii sincer la momentul potrivit</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vV1dy3wsMCA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vV1dy3wsMCA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4396239395137890986?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4396239395137890986/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4396239395137890986' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4396239395137890986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4396239395137890986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/de-ce-e-bine-sa-fii-sincer-la-momentul.html' title='de ce e bine sa fii sincer la momentul potrivit'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-6008262824464683454</id><published>2009-05-24T18:22:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T18:24:21.057+03:00</updated><title type='text'>what;'s it all about?</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/93IaWsAtOjQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/93IaWsAtOjQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's it all about? &lt;br /&gt;it all about love. in every possible way&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-6008262824464683454?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/6008262824464683454/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=6008262824464683454' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6008262824464683454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6008262824464683454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/whats-it-all-about.html' title='what;&apos;s it all about?'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-1425304775549354259</id><published>2009-05-24T15:58:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T15:58:25.000+03:00</updated><title type='text'>no part of me</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2EjmJFdCRBA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2EjmJFdCRBA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-1425304775549354259?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/1425304775549354259/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=1425304775549354259' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1425304775549354259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1425304775549354259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/no-part-of-me.html' title='no part of me'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-7297607797750125403</id><published>2009-05-22T16:44:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T16:45:47.886+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Us for always</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=4782797&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=4782797&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/4782797"&gt;Erasure - Always&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/user1794003"&gt;Sean Ronee&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be with you&lt;br /&gt;And make believe with you&lt;br /&gt;And live in harmony harmony oh love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-7297607797750125403?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/7297607797750125403/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=7297607797750125403' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7297607797750125403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7297607797750125403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/us-for-always.html' title='Us for always'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-8294975763060712362</id><published>2009-05-22T11:18:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T11:19:31.465+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Si tu poti merge anul acesta la Cannes!</title><content type='html'>Se organizeaza competitia&lt;strong&gt; young lions cyber&lt;/strong&gt; in urma careia cea mai talentata echipa de creatori din zona interactive va reprezenta Romania la Cannes.Informatia va fi dublata si de un comunicat de presa.Deocamdata, pe scurt, iata detaliile relevante.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Inscrierile se pot face la gradinita@canneslions.ro&lt;br /&gt;data pina la care se pot face inscrierile:duminica, 24 mai, orele 10, cand este trimis brief-ul -deadline: 26 mai,marti dimineata, orele 10&lt;br /&gt;Conditii de participare:&lt;br /&gt;-fluenta in limba engleza&lt;br /&gt;-limita de varsta: 28 de ani&lt;br /&gt;-echipa de webdesigner si copywriter&lt;br /&gt;-competente in a intelege conceptul de interactivitate si a-l traduce intr-un &lt;br /&gt;banner web&lt;br /&gt;-obiectiv: crearea unui banner interactiv pornind de la un brief dat&lt;br /&gt;-dimensiunea banner-ului interactiv:  300 x 250 &lt;br /&gt;-finalitate: participarea, pentru echipa castigatoare, intr-o competitie &lt;br /&gt;similara in contextul Cannes Lions, unde intra in joc cele mai puternice echipe &lt;br /&gt;de juniori specializati in domeniul bannere-lor interactive, care au deja rezultate relevante. Etica participantilor e o conditie fundamentala (atentie la copyright&amp;more) &lt;br /&gt;pentru mai multe informatii: www.canneslions.com / explorati zona de cyber&lt;br /&gt;Mai multe detalii la roxana.balan@canneslions.ro sau la 0744 10 50 15&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;va tin la curent cu informatii&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-8294975763060712362?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/8294975763060712362/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=8294975763060712362' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8294975763060712362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8294975763060712362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/si-tu-poti-merge-anul-acesta-la-cannes.html' title='Si tu poti merge anul acesta la Cannes!'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4682393743115191403</id><published>2009-05-21T12:25:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T12:26:50.065+03:00</updated><title type='text'>sweet bitterness</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3ZT_EaMyQZo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3ZT_EaMyQZo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I've never prayed, &lt;br /&gt;But tonight I'm on my knees, yeah&lt;br /&gt;I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah &lt;br /&gt;I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind , I feel free now &lt;br /&gt;But the airwaves are clean and there's nobody singing to me now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4682393743115191403?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4682393743115191403/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4682393743115191403' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4682393743115191403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4682393743115191403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/sweet-bitterness.html' title='sweet bitterness'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-6380821727647854656</id><published>2009-05-21T11:26:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T11:54:48.090+03:00</updated><title type='text'>the sun, the sea, you</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8YkwGZSa2GU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8YkwGZSa2GU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what would you say if I were to stay &amp; just go your way ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where you lose your mind &amp; just let your heart unwind.&lt;br /&gt;You're blind, don't lose control, you're mine, don't lose it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could you fill in the blanks in my story ?&lt;br /&gt;Tell me what I'm missing, what you could be for me.&lt;br /&gt;What would I find if I followed your path ?&lt;br /&gt;All the things I long for if I've never had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy this spell, you have me under.&lt;br /&gt;I know I can't be but I always wonder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-6380821727647854656?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/6380821727647854656/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=6380821727647854656' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6380821727647854656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6380821727647854656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/sun-sea-you.html' title='the sun, the sea, you'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4793578864879838258</id><published>2009-05-18T15:30:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T15:41:48.604+03:00</updated><title type='text'>te iubesc</title><content type='html'>te iubesc asa cum iubesc campiile carnoase de mai&lt;br /&gt;cu iarba cruda si graul tinerel&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc florile de camp &lt;br /&gt;din care se ivesc curiosi macii&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc mirosului salcamilor&lt;br /&gt;cu backing vocals de albine&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc cerul cameleonic&lt;br /&gt;platou de batalii al norilor&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc apa proaspata de munte&lt;br /&gt;in care se oglindeste, timida, vaca&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc teii grei &lt;br /&gt;cu mirosul puternic in noapte&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc sa mananc ciresele perechi&lt;br /&gt;cu gustul lor de viata si iubire&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc marea nesfarsita&lt;br /&gt;cu framantarile-i aproape de uman&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc panica furtunoasa&lt;br /&gt;cu care ma imbat cand simt necunoscutul&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc soarele urcat in cer&lt;br /&gt;cu tentaculele si vartejul de lumina&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc prietenii nehotarati&lt;br /&gt;cu Amsterdam, cu Scotia, cu griji si zambete de-odata&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc perna pe care dormi&lt;br /&gt;cu grija ei de a te tine-aproape&lt;br /&gt;te iubesc cum iubesc totul&lt;br /&gt;cu infinitul nesfarsit&lt;br /&gt;cu mama, tata si copil&lt;br /&gt;cu tot ce-nseamna noi,&lt;br /&gt;tu si eu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4793578864879838258?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4793578864879838258/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4793578864879838258' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4793578864879838258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4793578864879838258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/te-iubesc.html' title='te iubesc'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-7678311954788443950</id><published>2009-05-05T14:17:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T14:44:55.925+03:00</updated><title type='text'>scoici, oameni, sentimente</title><content type='html'>oamenii sunt ca scoicile: cei mai multi sunt tranformati in nisip, o parte umbla&lt;br /&gt;cu jumatatea lipsa, mutilati asemeni caselor din Bucurestiul interbelic, iar altii, cei mai norocosi, sunt inca intregi, bine lipiti de jumatatea lor, desi calatoresc de valuri lumina. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;marea expira neincetat si dezvaluie cu fieecare val cate o poveste de dragoste criptata. ma gandeam: daca iei o jumatate de scoica, una trista si solitara, si vrei s-o ajuti sa-si gaseasca jumatatea, cu ce incepi? cu valul nr x? intrebi o meduza? calculezi timpul trecut de la producerea rupturii? incerci sa vezi daca istoria se repeta? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sub norii melancolici de mai, departe de castanii infloriti si lanurile de rapita, pe nisipul jilav, langa boschetiii tolaniti si melcii fenomenal de agili, zacea  desenata o declaratie. scrisa de un romantic, lasata prada vantului, declaratia stangace era decriptata, iar mesajul cat se poate de clar: "Te iubesc"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am zabovit asupra-i cateva secunde, timp in care ma gandeam ca simt acelasi lucru pentru omul care ma tinea de mana. dar oamenii sunt ca scoicile: simteam ca este jumatatea mea, dar aveam nevoie de validarea apropierii. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mi-am imbratisat gandul nastrusnic, l-am luat in carca si am pasit mai departe. doua inghetate cu fructul pasiunii si doua discutii pe mess mai tarziu am primit validarea. jumatatea mea de scoica e langa mine. si o iubesc in imperfectiunea ei pentru ca, alaturi de a mea, formeaza ceva care este perfect pentru noi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-7678311954788443950?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/7678311954788443950/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=7678311954788443950' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7678311954788443950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7678311954788443950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/05/scoici-oameni-sentimente.html' title='scoici, oameni, sentimente'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-1441568932566871822</id><published>2009-04-30T12:36:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T13:50:25.182+03:00</updated><title type='text'>"pause", e timpul pentru depresie</title><content type='html'>vorbeam cu o prietena si-mi spunea ca "au fost atatea etape in viata mea, atatea experiente si atatea locuri in care am trait. si cand, in sfarsit, am gasit un loc al meu, am pierdut tot"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dezamagirea nu iarta pe nimeni. de o forma sau alta, ajungem sa simtim asta. iar depresia, impulsiva si tenace, ne pandeste la colt de gand. constant. &lt;br /&gt;ne lasam prada depresiilor, usoare de multe ori, pentru ca sunt un resort sigur (daca pot fi constientizate si controlate), o sursa - culmea! - de hrana spirituala. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;depresia pune "pause" lucrurilor care se tot aduna, esecurilor care navalesc asupra noastra, fricilor de tot felul, angoaselor, anxietatilor si incapacitatii de a le face fata. le ia de motz si le ordoneaza pe sentimente. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in atatea motive contra depresiei, am deslusit cateva pro si le sustin din proprie experienta: &lt;br /&gt;- ai timp pentru tine&lt;br /&gt;- ai motiv sa nu mai faci lucruri care nu-ti placeau&lt;br /&gt;- ai timp sa te hranesti spiritual (carti, filme, plimbari, orice iti place si iti face bine)&lt;br /&gt;- poti alege sa vorbesti exclusiv cu cine vrei&lt;br /&gt;- rumegi in voie dezamagirea si-ti faci planul lejereanu pentru cum vei creste dupa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa ce ai dat de la tine e timpul sa iei. Si da, in perioada cand trebuie sa iei, se intampla ca oamenii carora le-ai dat sa aiba altceva de facut si sa te simti si mai singur si mai dezamagit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar asta este ideea: singurul lucru de care esti cu adevarat sigur si de posesia caruia esti sigur, esti TU. chiar daca se intampla sa nu vezi asta cand esti trist. chiar daca ti-e greu si nu stii exact ce simti. Rolul oamenilor este sa dezamageasca, al tau este sa-ti gasesti puterea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa cum spuneam, toti trecem prin asta. toti avem nevoie de terapie, de imbratisari, de empatie, de intelegere. si toti o gasim. tot ce ne trebuie este un buton de "pause" si o mare rezerva de timp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-1441568932566871822?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/1441568932566871822/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=1441568932566871822' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1441568932566871822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1441568932566871822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/pause-e-timpul-pentru-depresie.html' title='&quot;pause&quot;, e timpul pentru depresie'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2959215914789297259</id><published>2009-04-28T13:56:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T14:29:20.777+03:00</updated><title type='text'>modern secret societies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SfbnszwfffI/AAAAAAAAAEI/u9tb-Sr1WMc/s1600-h/7306154pt6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SfbnszwfffI/AAAAAAAAAEI/u9tb-Sr1WMc/s320/7306154pt6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329701966033419762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;societatile secrete: tabu, rezistenta, efect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inaite si dupa Ano Domini, pe langa castele si paturile sociale cu care se inveleau, oamenii si-au creat un obicei misterios, dar plin de efect: sa faca parte dintr-o societate secreta. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acestea reprezentau modalitatea ascunsa, dar integrata, de a comite o crima pe ici pe colo, un furt mic, dar consistent; un motiv de reuniune pentru a da o lege pe care lumea s-o respecte, dar fara sa stie; o portitza catre sex nebun, dar exclusiv, cu cine nu vroiai sa se afle etc etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pe principiul da-si-ti-se-va-da, pentru a avea acces la informatiile "secrete", dar de multe ori vitale, trebuia sa:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cunosti pe cine trebuie ca sa ai intrare&lt;br /&gt;sa ai intrare&lt;br /&gt;sa depui juramantul solemn (Za oath at membership)&lt;br /&gt;sa-ti vinzi sufletul pe un pret nebanuit&lt;br /&gt;sa te bucuri de beneficiile "spatelui tau" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;societatile secrete continua si astazi. si apar altele constant. exista insa doua care-mi plac foarte mult: Societatatea Secreta a Nickname-urilor si Online Flirting When Offline Serious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;reteaua este numeroasa, informatia infinita, haosul ordonat de taste, spionii spam-uiti ;), iar identitatile ascunse bine bine. membri societatilor secrete moderne sunt oameni ca tine si ca el. ei pot duce vieti normale, pot avea copii si hobby-uri stilizate, pot deduce impozite si pot genera valoare, insa adevarata lor identitate se divide in atatea altele. oamenii simpli devin CINEVA pentru ALTCINEVA care le cunoaste secretul. pentru ca "everybody does it, it's just that not everybody talks about it"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2959215914789297259?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2959215914789297259/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2959215914789297259' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2959215914789297259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2959215914789297259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/modern-secret-societies.html' title='modern secret societies'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SfbnszwfffI/AAAAAAAAAEI/u9tb-Sr1WMc/s72-c/7306154pt6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-8304757114615207346</id><published>2009-04-23T11:17:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T13:32:05.711+03:00</updated><title type='text'>casa bantuita</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SfBDgaHjsmI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yZXEgAsHdPk/s1600-h/dee+rollynson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 238px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SfBDgaHjsmI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yZXEgAsHdPk/s320/dee+rollynson.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327832583225193058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cum te poti vindeca de frica? de frica acuta, obsesiva, de acea Frica impunatoare, care te imobilizeaza si se transforma in arma invizibila, distrugatoare?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ma tem de o casa bantuita. in momentul in care intru in casa respectiva simt ca, la fiecare inpiratie, cineva inspira cu mine. apoi imi sufla-n ureche lucruri pe care le-am auzit pe bune, mai demult. doar ca mi le repeta soptit, malefic, constant. inima mi se speria si se ascunde, si coboara repede repede tensiunea. si-mi vine sa vomit si vreau sa fumez tigari tari, sa ma ascund in fumul gros si sa nu ma mai gaseasca. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cand intru, caci trebuie s-o fac, tot ce-mi doresc este sa plec. sa ma eliberez, sa nu mai vad, sa nu aud. e o casa oglinda. o oglinda diforma care-mi evoca episoade pe care, culmea! nu le-am trait eu. prezenta stranie o simt doar eu. nebuna sunt, mi-am zis! si stiu, ca daca spun cuiva secretul, ma va privi cu ochi goi, cu mila, cu dispret. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pe google nu gasesc raspuns. am intrebat batranii, am rasfoit tratate de specialitate. m-am uitat chiar si pe National Geographic sa ghicesc raspunsul. am rasfoit si o revista de femei in speranta ca, macar una dintr-o mie, a mai trait asa ceva. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nu-i chip sa pot afla, nu-i nimeni care sa aiba, un antidot, ceva, la problema mea? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ma intreb, cati dintre noi suntem bantuiti si ce anume ne urmareste constiinta? cati dintre noi, macar o data, ne temem de trecut? cati dintre noi intram in case bantuite, in suflete locuite, in capete pline de amintiri cu frica-n san si dintii inclestati? cati nu avem secrete ingropate intr-o Cutie a Pandorei personala care, o data deschisa, distruge momente viitoare? iar tu, plecat cu treaba, n-ai nici macar habar de-a ta isprava....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-8304757114615207346?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/8304757114615207346/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=8304757114615207346' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8304757114615207346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8304757114615207346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/casa-bantuita.html' title='casa bantuita'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SfBDgaHjsmI/AAAAAAAAAEA/yZXEgAsHdPk/s72-c/dee+rollynson.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-3493634202276069177</id><published>2009-04-22T16:02:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T16:14:20.262+03:00</updated><title type='text'>cerere catre legea firii</title><content type='html'>arta care plangi la colturi&lt;br /&gt;si tu viata ce inspiri&lt;br /&gt;hai afara, hai la soare&lt;br /&gt;sa-nflorim!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;voi masini prinse in trafic&lt;br /&gt;si tu pasare maiastra&lt;br /&gt;Sus in aer, sus in cosmos&lt;br /&gt;Sa zburam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;voi contracte azi semnate &lt;br /&gt;si tu ceas uitat in cui&lt;br /&gt;hai la mare, hai in apa&lt;br /&gt;Sa plutim!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moarte ce alergi in noapte&lt;br /&gt;si tu litera de lege&lt;br /&gt;hai dormiti, hai leneviti&lt;br /&gt;macar azi sa fie haos!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-3493634202276069177?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/3493634202276069177/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=3493634202276069177' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3493634202276069177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3493634202276069177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/cerere-catre-legea-firii.html' title='cerere catre legea firii'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2477646628452717289</id><published>2009-04-22T14:45:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T14:49:41.995+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Psiho! All about Psiho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Se8ETXa7k6I/AAAAAAAAAD4/oblVkHunY4A/s1600-h/clip_image002.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 228px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Se8ETXa7k6I/AAAAAAAAAD4/oblVkHunY4A/s320/clip_image002.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327481614953583522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E-psiho.ro lanseaza versiunea beta a singurei baze de date de psihologi, psihiatri, psihoterapeuti, traineri si coacheri&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bucuresti, 08.04.2009: E-psiho.ro lanseaza astazi versiunea beta a singurei baze de date care promoveaza gratuit psihologii, psihiatrii, psihoterapeutii, trainerii si coacheri – www.e-psiho.ro  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E-psiho.ro isi doreste sa reuneasca specialistii din sfera psihologiei, psihiatriei si a dezvoltarii personale, oferindu-le promovare gratuita. Utilizatorii site-ului vor putea  cauta specialistul de care au nevoie in functie de criteriile personale: nume, cabinet, specializare, adresa, orar, tarifele practicate, date de contact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Proiectul a fost initiat din dorinta de a sustine domeniul psihologiei si cel al dezvoltarii personale. E-Psiho.ro este singurul site din Romania in care profesionistii au la dispozitie o pagina de prezentare, promovarea fiind gratuita“, a explicat Maria Calinescu, Fondator E-Psiho.ro &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alaturi de singura baza de date targetata pe psihologi, psihoterapeuti, psihiatri, traineri si coach-eri se mai gasesc: articole si cercetari din domeniul psihologiei, o baza de date a scolillor din Romania si din strainatate, formari si cursuri din domeniu, evenimentele nationale si internationale (conferinte, seminarii, work-shop-uri), joburi din domeniu, video-interviuri periodice cu personalitati din domeniu,  teste psihologice si provocari zilnice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;„E-psiho.ro isi propune sa lupte impotriva imaginii stereotipale a specialistului din domeniul psihologiei, privit deseori ca fiind cel ce trateaza exclusiv bolile psihice, pacientul ajungand in cabinetul acestuia ca ultim remediu”, a mai adaugat Maria Calinescu. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E-psiho isi da seama de evolutia societatii, si ca oamenii au nevoie sa se dezvolte personal si spiritual pentru a se putea adapta cerintelor vietii active. Psihologul, trainerul, coach-ul, devine persoana care le sta alaturi in drumul spre realizarea personala, implinire, regasire a valorilor si a echilibrului spiritual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mai multe detalii despre baza de date si concursul E-psiho.ro poti afla accesand www.e-psiho.ro&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2477646628452717289?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2477646628452717289/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2477646628452717289' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2477646628452717289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2477646628452717289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/psiho-all-about-psiho.html' title='Psiho! All about Psiho'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Se8ETXa7k6I/AAAAAAAAAD4/oblVkHunY4A/s72-c/clip_image002.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-6849258855362329606</id><published>2009-04-21T17:59:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T18:01:58.258+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Aldous Huxley</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Se3f4VlGfGI/AAAAAAAAADw/ruOVFF70C2I/s1600-h/Top10WorldMostFamousPhotos_05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Se3f4VlGfGI/AAAAAAAAADw/ruOVFF70C2I/s320/Top10WorldMostFamousPhotos_05.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327160093207592034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Există un singur colţ din Univers pe care ştii sigur că îl poţi face mai bun - şi acela eşti tu însuţi”.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-6849258855362329606?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/6849258855362329606/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=6849258855362329606' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6849258855362329606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6849258855362329606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/aldous-huxley.html' title='Aldous Huxley'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Se3f4VlGfGI/AAAAAAAAADw/ruOVFF70C2I/s72-c/Top10WorldMostFamousPhotos_05.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-5567943117697019984</id><published>2009-04-21T11:52:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T13:32:00.176+03:00</updated><title type='text'>bipolar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Se2gY_5tyeI/AAAAAAAAADg/_Qqp4S7KElI/s1600-h/tensiune.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 110px; height: 73px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Se2gY_5tyeI/AAAAAAAAADg/_Qqp4S7KElI/s320/tensiune.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327090285579979234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nemiscati. in bataia ploilor si a vanturilo aprige. fulgii de zapada ne lovesc, dar nu simtim. insa indiferenta lor, nepasarea crunta cu care vad prin noi, asta ne loveste pana in impamantare. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa ma prezint: S19p04, amplasata la peste 2000 m altitudine. nu mi-e nici cald, nici frig, nici somn, nici foame. Ma joc zi si noapte cu prietenii mei - redresorul, transformatorul, bobinele de amortizare si filtrele de armonici. misiunea mea: sa ma asigur ca ei, oamenii de ici, de colo, primesc energie electrica. credeti ca-i simplu, nu? ei bine, este. dar pentru firea mea visatoare, curioasa, jucausa, calatoare in timp si spatiu, sa fii prins si programat inca de la nastere e cumplit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in timp am observat ca pot calatori o data cu "marfa". asa trag cu ochiul si analizez viata cea de toate zilele. cate n-am vazut?! cate n-am auzit?! de multe ori ma uit la ei cum trec in drumetii si rad si vorbesc si se imbratiseaza. zilnic ii urmaresc pe sosea cum aluneca spre sud, spre nord, incruntati, zgomotosi, grabiti sau travestiti. ei sunt liberi sa calatoreasca, ei se pot misca in voie, au gura sa rada si palme sa mangaie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;prietenul meu cel mai bun e muntele. intelept si rabdator, se macina cu fiecare anotimp si-si framanta solurile neincetat. de la el stiu povesti nenumarate cu haiduci si taietori de lemne. impreuna discutam filozofie, impreuna stam, impreuna simtim timpul ca trece. oamenii imi gadila curiozitatea si vreau sa stiu mereu ce se intampla in furnicarul lor. insa oamenii vin si pleaca. el, muntele batran si ursuz, ma asteapta acasa, ma linisteste si ma sustine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am calatorit o data cu o linie bipolara pana la mare. el m-a trimis la ea. fermecatoare! nesfarsita, agitata, misterioasa, marea este lucrul de care ma tem si care-mi este interzis. ma fascineaza, ma hipnotizeaza si ma intriga. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;marea si muntele sunt constantele mele. pentru o biata statie de comutare, in acest dute-vino al energiilor, cei doi colosi sunt sursa mea de inspiratie, hrana de care are nevoie sufletul meu captiv, visator, curios, jucaus, calator in timp si spatiu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-5567943117697019984?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/5567943117697019984/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=5567943117697019984' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5567943117697019984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5567943117697019984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/bipolar.html' title='bipolar'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Se2gY_5tyeI/AAAAAAAAADg/_Qqp4S7KElI/s72-c/tensiune.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-7879067614413165141</id><published>2009-04-17T12:20:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T12:46:52.415+03:00</updated><title type='text'>e viata mea, e moartea mea</title><content type='html'>in lupta constanta dintre viata si moarte, cine castiga? &lt;br /&gt;viata care nu se lasa, care face sex, care promite stiinta, prieteni, bani, fotosinteza, elan creator, demisii, sarbatori, dar mai ales viata "de dupa, viata eterna"?&lt;br /&gt;sau&lt;br /&gt;moartea rapida care serpuieste invizibila printre noi muscandu-ne in zori de zi sau sub clar de luna? &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;daca nu mai lucram pt viata, daca nu mai suntem angajatii ei, devenim someri sau trecem automat pe statul de plata al mortii? si, in cazul de fata, pentru ce ONG redirectionam cei 2%? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;atata timp cat suntem in viata, cati dintre noi ne gandim la ce vom face dupa? in viata ne stim scopurile: sa terminam liceul, facultatea, sa avem un job, sa facem un master, sa avem bani, bani, bani, masini si celulare :)), sa ne casatorim, sa ne facem propria biblioteca semn ca a trecut ceva prin capul nostru... dar dupa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;care este planul tau in calitate de mort? sa fii misto? sa nu puti foarte tare? sa te descopui armonios si sa ai propria cultura de viermi? sa ai un inger cu care sa te plimbi la bratzet prin Lumea Eterna?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si, data fiind lupta aceasta nesfarsita, cu remize peste remize, nu ar trebui sa ne gandim si la aceste detalii? sau sa ne lasam prada mortii, cu nonsalanta si indiferenta, ca stie ce trebuie sa facem daca tot ne ia? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;inevitabil ea castiga. mereu. cumva. desi viata merge mai departe, stirbita, ciuntita, boanta, moartea ii permite sa ne creasca, sa ne foloseasca si atat. apoi... ea e stapana?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dar stai! ramane promisiunea vietii eterne. care cere mantuire, post, abstinenta, piosenie, mila, crez. dar cum gasim intelepciunea sa depasim aceasta neputinta? &lt;br /&gt;o lumanare aprinsa, o rugaciune spusa pe furish sunt tot ce avem nevoie? este viata eterna o investitie sigura? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in lupta dintre viata si moarte, noi de partea cui suntem? vorba cetateanului turmentat: "eu cu cine votez?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-7879067614413165141?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/7879067614413165141/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=7879067614413165141' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7879067614413165141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7879067614413165141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/e-viata-mea-e-moartea-mea.html' title='e viata mea, e moartea mea'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4280237365034382709</id><published>2009-04-17T12:08:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T12:11:18.926+03:00</updated><title type='text'>My NY Bond</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SehHiiSIYAI/AAAAAAAAADY/FGXrIBJU2ZE/s1600-h/once+upon+a+time.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SehHiiSIYAI/AAAAAAAAADY/FGXrIBJU2ZE/s320/once+upon+a+time.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325585218009587714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s easy to feel tossed about&lt;br /&gt;by gentle waves or raging winds&lt;br /&gt;It’s easy to feel cut loose,&lt;br /&gt;anchorless, adrift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s tempting to think of life&lt;br /&gt;with no ties, no bonds, no restraints…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but in my heart I long&lt;br /&gt;for rock-solid confidence&lt;br /&gt;for sure and certain knowledge&lt;br /&gt;to remember that your name&lt;br /&gt;is written indelibly on my heart ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4280237365034382709?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4280237365034382709/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4280237365034382709' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4280237365034382709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4280237365034382709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-ny-bond.html' title='My NY Bond'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SehHiiSIYAI/AAAAAAAAADY/FGXrIBJU2ZE/s72-c/once+upon+a+time.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-7990270210982063997</id><published>2009-04-16T11:12:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T11:29:34.346+03:00</updated><title type='text'>the kiss</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SebonwrsWrI/AAAAAAAAADQ/nHTBfjZ6ktM/s1600-h/the+kiss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 145px; height: 147px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SebonwrsWrI/AAAAAAAAADQ/nHTBfjZ6ktM/s320/the+kiss.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325199379192896178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gustav Klimt exploreaza iubirea si reda cu minutiozitate fiecare traire pe care a cules-o in aceasta calatorie nesfarsita. Cuplul sau este cuplul etern, redat in forme si culori specifice art nouveau: femme fatale si barbatul care o poseda, tinerii care se iubesc pentru prima data, mama si tatal uniti prin sarutul etern. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand buzele se ating, senzatiile sunt imposibil de descris, de calificat. Iar buzele insetate sunt cele care explodeaza in momentul regasirii. Este dorinta de el si de ea, de gustul celuilalt pe care il sorbi aproape cu durere. Saruta-ma! este gandul tau cand e langa tine. SARUTA-MA! si ieri, si azi, mereu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-7990270210982063997?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/7990270210982063997/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=7990270210982063997' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7990270210982063997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7990270210982063997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/kiss.html' title='the kiss'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SebonwrsWrI/AAAAAAAAADQ/nHTBfjZ6ktM/s72-c/the+kiss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-1899372294128543010</id><published>2009-04-14T23:44:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T00:27:23.636+03:00</updated><title type='text'>"all art has been contemporary"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;sufletul, ca o mama de cometa, se legana inconstient. incerca sa numere clipele care treceau pe langa si prin el manate de un pulsar. adica o stea moarta gonea spre el cu o forta nemarginita mii de ace de timp. in mica lui chilie din vid, sufletul se legana. nani, nani! nani, nani! avusese un vis pret de cateva ace. un vis calator in timp, trimis de undeva din necunoscut. harnic si responsabil, visul adusese o scara. fara inceput si fara sfarsit...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cu aceasta imagine in minte, pictorul Matei s-a apucat de lucru. cromatica va fi bine gandita, sunt detalii ce trebuie puse in evidenta. O incursiune recenta in vis l-a facut sa inteleaga faptul ca psihicul este, intr-adevar, abisal si ca fiecare fragment are o semnificatie. oricat de mult alerga, plangea, cobora trepte fara sens, icnea de durere si neputinta, Matei o facea visand. Iar acum era momentul sa interpreteze, calm si cu rabdare, aceste mesaje codificate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;departe de verdele crud al padurilor musonice, departe de copiii subnutriti ai africii, departe de Nil si Valea Regilor, departe de Brooklyn Bridge si batranul Freud, Matei picta un vis in interpretarea geniului sau anticreator. Un antisocial notoriu, tanarului artist ii placea sa adulmece singur aburii diminetii, sa aiba ochii inchisi, sa zambeasca in gand la ideea ca el zace si altii muncesc. Un antisemit, antitalent la aritmetici, Matei folosea visele ca antidot pentru felul sau de-a fi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand era mic se legana sub un cort improvizat si astepta sa il gaseasca cineva. Astepta in zadar. Nu avea parinti si nici rude care sa il cunoasca. De atunci s-a tot interiorizat, a vorbit tot mai putin, a ras din ce in ce mai rar si a ajuns sa se teama de cat de multe poate intelege un om care sta in sinea lui. &lt;br /&gt;Lecturile care mai de care i-au macinat materia cenusie si l-au facut sa se intrebe permanent. In cautare de explicatii, nomad al teoriilor, Matei picteaza o opera care, mai tarziu ii va aduce faima de care atata s-a temut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SeT_S5MWo6I/AAAAAAAAAC4/fBBLRNSRqWk/s1600-h/Extreme+Planets.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SeT_S5MWo6I/AAAAAAAAAC4/fBBLRNSRqWk/s320/Extreme+Planets.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324661359514133410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SeT_fUIrXaI/AAAAAAAAADA/VasaXuw-q7g/s1600-h/Pulsar3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SeT_fUIrXaI/AAAAAAAAADA/VasaXuw-q7g/s320/Pulsar3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324661572904902050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SeT_oRt-zTI/AAAAAAAAADI/X48b_UFGg-o/s1600-h/Star+Nursey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SeT_oRt-zTI/AAAAAAAAADI/X48b_UFGg-o/s320/Star+Nursey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324661726874881330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-1899372294128543010?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/1899372294128543010/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=1899372294128543010' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1899372294128543010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1899372294128543010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/all-art-has-been-contemporary.html' title='&quot;all art has been contemporary&quot;'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SeT_S5MWo6I/AAAAAAAAAC4/fBBLRNSRqWk/s72-c/Extreme+Planets.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2838600856222976593</id><published>2009-04-13T23:19:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T23:28:59.397+03:00</updated><title type='text'>let the rain melt the pain</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1pSyYhRYeIM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1pSyYhRYeIM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2838600856222976593?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2838600856222976593/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2838600856222976593' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2838600856222976593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2838600856222976593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/let-rain-melt-pain.html' title='let the rain melt the pain'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-8589749873974098721</id><published>2009-04-13T22:44:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T23:14:53.772+03:00</updated><title type='text'>follow the yellow brick road</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SeOb3y8AU2I/AAAAAAAAACw/XkRoyEP-_38/s1600-h/yellow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 108px; height: 81px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SeOb3y8AU2I/AAAAAAAAACw/XkRoyEP-_38/s320/yellow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324270567350621026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mirosea a trabuc ieftin. din masea imi curgea sange dulceag pe care il plimbam putin pe la toate celelalte masele si il inghiteam. Imi placea, era sangele meu. &lt;br /&gt;Fumasem mult in seara aia. Fumasem ambele pachete de Kent lung, doua tigari de Marlboro light si apoi gasisem acel trabuc vechi, ieftin, dar buuuun. Al naibii de bun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-am intors palma si am inceput sa o analizez. trei degete stateau apropiate si al patrulea, cel mic, se inclina timid spre ele. Pielea se uscase de la vantul de primavara. cu plama catre mine imi apropiam degetele si incercam sa imit o meduza din Oceanul Indian. Care absoarbe zooplanctonul si-si hraneste constant masa gelatinoasa. dar palma mea e aspra. si pluteste in aer uscat. si se hraneste cu iluzii vandute de o ghicitoare cu batic inflorat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mi-am amintit o piesa de teatru pe care am vazut-o la Idelier. Conditia femeii moderne care in cautarea unui Wizard of Oz al ei, a gasit doar un copil al ei. Si-n asteptarea lui descopera ca i-au crescut ochi noi si vede lumea altfel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oamenii vin si pleaca din viata noastra. Acum zece minute dadeam fumul cu mana sa le vad chipurile vesele. Acum ma oglindesc in ceata densa lasata de trabuc si incerc sa-mi zambesc. :) ce zambet fals! prins cu agrafe de birou. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ce poti face cu o palma aspra, o piesa de teatru, 3 prieteni care au plecat spre casa, un zambet si ceata densa? O harta catre Oz!, mi-am spus. Tot ce trebuie sa fac este sa gasesc locul din care porneste totul, punctul de plecare, propriul meu Yellow Brick Road.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-8589749873974098721?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/8589749873974098721/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=8589749873974098721' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8589749873974098721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8589749873974098721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/follow-yellow-brick-road.html' title='follow the yellow brick road'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SeOb3y8AU2I/AAAAAAAAACw/XkRoyEP-_38/s72-c/yellow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-5012027809991923989</id><published>2009-04-03T15:38:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T16:21:45.599+03:00</updated><title type='text'>la cinema in Rai sau Iad</title><content type='html'>musashi brother a zis asa: deja vu -urile inseamna ca in bunul mers al energiilor lumilor paralele ceva s-a scurtcircuitat. si iata cum putem sa tragem cu ochiul "dincolo", sa vedem cum moare si capra Eu-lui nostru vecin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;apropos de pacate, sanse, metafizica, religii, culmea existentei tale, imposibilitatea de a da timpul inapoi si moartea cu care suntem toti datori (reminder from Mircea Badea), iata niste filme pe care tin mortis sa le vad: the story of my other lives cu Mine Eu in rolul principal, Cand Mini You o intalneste pe Mini Me, film cu o coloana sonora extraordinara, A single girl in Bucharest un remake de Je, My Fair Baron ca incursiune in mintea Sinelui si Tentatia Viitorului cu NY Man in rolul ghidului spiritual. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Povestea asta cu Raiul si Iadul este ceva simplu. Inseamna ca ne dam intalnire in aceste doua cinematografe unde urmeaza sa vedem, dupa caz, fie comedii romantice si documentare, fie drame si thrillere. O sa mancam popcorn si nori pe bat si o sa bem apa sfintita la draft sau lava la 2 litri si o sa urmarim o eternitate toate existentele paralele pe care le-am trait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-5012027809991923989?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/5012027809991923989/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=5012027809991923989' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5012027809991923989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5012027809991923989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/la-cinema-in-rai-sau-iad.html' title='la cinema in Rai sau Iad'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-928734004120789931</id><published>2009-04-03T11:34:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T13:28:35.617+03:00</updated><title type='text'>nevoia de pacat</title><content type='html'>pacatul: incalcarea legii lui Dumnezeu cu vointa si stiinta. aceasta este definitia data de biserica pornind de la pacatul originar (caruia, la un moment dat, cineva ar trebui sa-i faca un logo si un slogan - e brandul nostru, al omenii, ce naiba!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aproape toate religiile care coexista pe pamant vorbesc despre pacatul de a pacatui. idee de baza este ca atunci cand pacatuiesti, iti faci rau tie, dar mai ales semenilor tai. atunci cand minti, furi, inseli, omori, batjocoresti faci o baie de mizerie sufleteasca. insa dincolo de asta, este mult mai grav faptul ca provoci suferinta celor care nu au vina pacatului tau. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;diferenta intre bine si rau este clara pentru multi care pot vedea. pentru cei care nu au constiinta "daltonista". dar cine e sigur de asta sa ridice mana si ii facem o rezervare in rai. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pentru toti ceilalti este un adevarat montaigne russe in drumul catre mantuire. nu as vrea sa intru in discutii despre a crede versus a fi ateu. fiecare cum simte. ce ma intereseaza este ce anume viermuieste in interiorul nostru si este insetat de pacat. si atunci ma intreb: avem nevoie de pacate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cu constiinta intr-o mana si cu nevoia de cunoastere in cealalta plecam agale din uterul cald si ascultam muzica. lipa lipa, tzaca paca. iote ce dragut: biodiversitate si un cer deasupra ei. tare asa! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dar foarte curand inveti sa dansezi: si quick step, si vals, si tango, si rumba, si breakdance, si street dance. si inveti din mers sa simti muzica, sa tii ritmul si sa cazi. si iar sa te ridici si iar sa schimbi stilul. pacat inseamna sa schimbi stilul, sa nu stii care ti se potriveste? sa vrei sa cunosti cat mai multe pana afli la care esti cel mai bun? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cred ca nevoia de pacat o mostenim genetic. si poate, daca perioada de gestatie ar fi si la oameni de 18 luni am mosteni mult mai multa informatie. dar, vezi... noi iesim dupa 9 luni si punem intrebari la care mediul asigura raspunsurile. aceasta nevoie de cunoastere, dublata de umbra de machivelism care ne insoteste, ne determina sa pacatuim. fara pacat nu am sti ce inseamna sa nu pacatuiesti. avem nevoie de suferinta data de pacat. altfel de ce in cealalta mana am primi constiinta? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pacatuim din momentul in care inchiriem uterul cald si ne hranim parazit din resursele femeii. avem nevoie de acest prim pacat pentru a invata sa dansam prin viata. pacatul devine astfel scara pe care urcam spre varful piramidei lui Maslow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SdXkqY-S84I/AAAAAAAAACo/TUps0y0PEbE/s1600-h/pnm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SdXkqY-S84I/AAAAAAAAACo/TUps0y0PEbE/s320/pnm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320409951717487490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-928734004120789931?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/928734004120789931/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=928734004120789931' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/928734004120789931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/928734004120789931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/nevoia-de-pacat.html' title='nevoia de pacat'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SdXkqY-S84I/AAAAAAAAACo/TUps0y0PEbE/s72-c/pnm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2839782235062737545</id><published>2009-04-02T17:48:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T17:52:14.902+03:00</updated><title type='text'>trickle some rain for the earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Idh1yr1SJNA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Idh1yr1SJNA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2839782235062737545?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2839782235062737545/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2839782235062737545' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2839782235062737545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2839782235062737545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/trickle-some-rain-for-earth.html' title='trickle some rain for the earth'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-8384059607385338916</id><published>2009-04-02T17:44:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T17:44:49.526+03:00</updated><title type='text'>seemingly, he never got the letter</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wdODtDDlSv8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wdODtDDlSv8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-8384059607385338916?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/8384059607385338916/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=8384059607385338916' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8384059607385338916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8384059607385338916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/seemingly-he-never-got-letter.html' title='seemingly, he never got the letter'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-742588822902449071</id><published>2009-04-02T13:09:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T13:20:27.965+03:00</updated><title type='text'>undeva, departe</title><content type='html'>terasa mediocra, dar plina de fitzosi. pe obrajii nostri se astern raze de soare. vantul imi ridica fusta. &lt;br /&gt;in fata mea stai tu, in sufletul meu stau eu. am atatea sa-ti spun si sa-ti reprosez incat nu mai are rost. nu s-ar schimba nimic intre noi. suntem in moarte clinica si amandoi stim asta. nu ne mai leaga nimic. nici macar promisiunile facute. &lt;br /&gt;iti spun ca as vrea ca de azi sa nu mai fim noi. imi dai doua lacrimi albe sa le port mereu cu mine. peste ani, descopar ca ma iubeai. n-ai spus-o si nici n-ai aratat-o niciodata. tentatia ne-a sedus si prezentul ne-a acaparat. &lt;br /&gt;a fost 1 aprilie, dar n-a fost o pacaleala..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/J9Fx4kyCtKo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/J9Fx4kyCtKo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-742588822902449071?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/742588822902449071/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=742588822902449071' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/742588822902449071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/742588822902449071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/undeva-departe.html' title='undeva, departe'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-3540975950813695423</id><published>2009-04-02T09:54:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T10:20:26.454+03:00</updated><title type='text'>cek mall</title><content type='html'>VIP Party. Lansare de Mall. Lume la patru ace. muzica buna, suspans, racnete de bucurie, senzatie si muuuulta mancare buna. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PE NAIBA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa va explic, am fost nene la lansare VIP Party Militari Shopping. Lansare sub conceptul de "shooping de performanta". Performanta, my ass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;din seria VIP nu recunosteai decat 2 fete: Andi Moisescu (foarte tare omu')care nu am inteles de ce a tinut sa se asocieze cu asa ceva (ar trebui sa-i intreb contul..poate imi explica el) si Gabi Szabo (performanta la atletism si frumos agramata). deci ciu-ciu VIP. eh, de ce sa fiu rautacioasa erau si doua trei pitziponcus pe acolo, unele ne dadeau cadouri si altele vanau manageri cu bani. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bat tobele, suspans major, apare moisescu pe scena. urmeaza o frumoasa prezentare. nu apuca sa zica "buna seara" ca muzica, microfoanele, curentul se duc pe apa sambetei. liniste! organizatorii isi mascheaza jena, penibilitatea momentului. noroc cu andi ca face o ghidusie si salveaza momentul. deci speech-urile incep intr-o mare jena. iar muzica de dupa? o formatie obosita cu o fatuca gurista, din pacate nu foarte priceputa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mancarea. ooo, duamne. ar fi cam asa: putina, saracacioasa (aveau un fel de sardine in conserva si pui - toata lumea stie ca puiul e cel mai ieftin), in mare erau legume (norocul meu ca nu mananc carne :)) si nici un jmen. oribil pentru o lansare de performanta. ah, sa nu uit de bauturi: bere ursus la draft si suc din sticle la 2l jumate la oferta :)) ntz, ntz. nu se face asa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hai, sa admitem ca e buget de criza. dar ce te faci cu ospatarii care carau tavile goale de mancare, murdare si urat mirositoare fix pintre multime? ce te faci cu saculetii de ceai lasati direct pe fatza de masa albaaa, proaspat spalata cu Bonux pentru aceste event? ce sa mai spunem de cadouri? pe jumatate furate? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;putina presa. n-o baga nimeni in seama. ft urat settingul. mi s-a parut sarac, caznit, incropit si de prost gust. (ca sa nu mai zic de primarul Poteras care a zis ca "acum o inteleg pe nevasta-mea de ce pierde banii si timpul la shopping." asa deci, zici ca sa nu vin la shopping pentru ca pierd banii si timpul. aha. si daca e unul de performanta inseamna ca si pierderea e pe masura. sa nu insist, zici, ca intru in Guiness ;))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all in all, a fost una dintre cele mai neperformante lansari din istoria centrelor comerciale. un rateu de performanta. o trista pacaleala de 1 aprilie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-3540975950813695423?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/3540975950813695423/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=3540975950813695423' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3540975950813695423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3540975950813695423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/cek-mall.html' title='cek mall'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4833348775936666432</id><published>2009-04-01T15:49:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T16:31:55.807+03:00</updated><title type='text'>simplificati! simplificati! BIFAT</title><content type='html'>uita-te in geanta, femeie si spune-mi ce ai acolo? &lt;br /&gt;hei tu! da, tu de colo, din scaunul confortabil de mare manager. ia zi-mi, cate carti de vizita ai adunat? pe cati dintre posesori ti-i mai amintesti? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uitati-va in lista de mess, pe biroul de acasa sau de la seviciu, in frigider si in raftul cu carti. trage-ti cu ochiul pe bancheta din spate..cate chestii zac in asteptare? Cate site-uri aveti la bookmarks pe care v-ati promis sa le cititi mai incolo? cati prieteni suna si nu aveti timp sa va vedeti? cate reclame asteapta sa faceti parte din targetu lor? cate produse nou aparute se gudura la vederea mainilor voastre flamande numai sa le incercati? cate restaurante va falfaie meniuri sub nas? cate spectacole va soptesc la ureche: "pune ochii pe mine, chiparosule"? cate afise puse unele peste altele in statii! stau ingramadite in lasagna urbane, iar noi am uitat de ele sau le vedem si ne promitem ca le vom VEDEA. &lt;br /&gt;ce ziceti de folderul de downloads? cate filme asteapta? cate melodii si albume downloadate se scalda-n giga sperand ca maine sigur vei avea timp si pentru ele. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok. tu femeie si tu omule din ziua de azi. ati prin ideea, nu? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;toate firmele, brandurie, institutiile, editurile, bloggerii, reporterii TV si tatii lor vor ceva de la noi. daca ne-am pune ambitia si, intr-o zi, am bifa toate aceste indemnuri/taskuri/cerinte nu am avea timp sa le facem pe toate in 24 de ore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mai mult decat atat, daca am citi toate mesajele/informatiile la care suntem supusi zilnic asta am face toata ziua. dar oare cate ne-am aminti? imi spunea cineva ca se estimeaza ca informatia ce apare in ziarul New York Times vreme de o saptamana, este echivalentul informatiei la care un om avea acces in secolul 18 intr-o viata intreaga. toata lumea scoate ceva nou. NU! defapt TOATA LUMEA TREBUIE SA FACA CEVA NOU. ceva iesit din comun, altfel, nemaivazut. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;toti cei care arunca informatii in noi ne-au facut imuni. citim si citim si auzim si auzim, dar defapt ZERO. pe dinauntru e fie gol, fie un mare haos. nu mai este ordine, nu se mai stie care cum unde si de ce? motivul este simplu: nu ai timp sa ASIMILEZI, sa filtrezi, sa digeri, sa te atasezi de nimic din tot ce primesti. azi e in tendinte telefonul cutare! repede, ia-l pana nu te considera lumea un trist pentru ca ai un tel simplu si eficient. pffffoaaaa, acum chiar esti un luser: ai asteptat prea mult si nah ca a aparut un nou model. asta este clar mai misto. repede, ia-l p'asta. e ultima ta sansa, cretinule. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mai ai timp de rezultate? sau, mai are cineva timp sa observe ce ai facut? mai sunt o suta de miliarde de trilioane de catralioane exact ca tine. "pe tine te elogiez in timp ce te reduc la un nimic", zice ea, Modernitatea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ce valori? da-le naibilor de valori. fiecare cu ce are de la ma'sa. nu ne trebuie valori. ni le facem singuri. ce are daca facem sex din clasa a 6-a? ce are daca inca de la 20 de ani am casa, masina, conturi si-un divort la activ? ce are daca mint ca sa obtin conturi? ce are daca modific si eu putin adevarul? nimic, ce sa aiba? cat merge, tine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;azi, toata lumea scrie. orice tampenie. nu mai stii care scrie bine si care nu. literatura moderna supravietuieste Dumnezeu stie cum, dar... putini au timpul sa o si parcurga. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;citeam un articol al cataliei burciu despre nevoia de simplificare in moda. ft bun articolul. dar nu doar in moda e nevoie de asta. tre sa simplificam peste tot. e prea multa informatie, prea multa superficialitate, sunt prea multe proiecte, prea multi priceputi la prea multe! e o presiune in a face, a sti, a merge, a cunoaste, a vinde, a cumpara, a fi primul, a fi cel mai bun incat devenim gogosi umplute cu haos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e criza, da! e criza noastra de timp si consistenta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4833348775936666432?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4833348775936666432/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4833348775936666432' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4833348775936666432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4833348775936666432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/04/simplificati-simplificati-bifat.html' title='simplificati! simplificati! BIFAT'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-868473965000112691</id><published>2009-03-27T11:04:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T11:48:13.824+02:00</updated><title type='text'>norocul vine din interior</title><content type='html'>creierul omului are capacitatea extraordinara de a fi mai mult decat putem gandi constient. dincolo de eu, supraeu si eu-ul inconstient troneaza o putere extraordinara pe care de multe ori nu stim sa o folosim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mai mult decat atat, creierul are capacitatea de a stoca informatiile detaliate pe care le inregistram de-a lungul carierei noastre existentiale. &lt;br /&gt;frustrari refulate, manie clocotita, umilinte ascutite care-ti imboldesc demnitatea, o frica nemarginita in fata necunoscutului, acomodari si reacomodari, inceputuri fara de finalitate, celebritate construita si ruinata de o alta etc etc sunt doar mici motive de eroiziune sufleteasca. &lt;br /&gt;aceste ape curgatoare sapa constant rocile noastre interioare. astfel incat, de multe ori poti sa arati de 80 de ani si sa ai 6 (vezi Benjamin Button) sau poti fi un tanar de 18 ani care sa adune atatea povesti incat sa devina din vagabond milionar. &lt;br /&gt;ochii tai vad in tine. (si nici ei in proportie de 100%). ochii lor vad ce nu vezi tu, dar deformat (in proportie de aproape 100%). rezulta o realitate in proportie de 100% ireala. dar in ea traim. &lt;br /&gt;relatia dintre tine si ei, dintre ce esti si ce vrei sa fii este cel mai important job al tau. dincolo de job description-uri bine structurate, aceasta este prima ta profesie. mi-a spus cineva ca i-a spus cineva ca este ft bine sa ai un plan de cariera/viata pentru ca altfel risti sa nimeresti in planurile altora. mai sa fie? dar da, se poate intampla. viata este complexa si are multe aspecte. si cum ar zice Divertis: traim in Romania si asta ne excita tot timpul. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;what's my point? &lt;br /&gt;- e bine sa-ti doresti ceva pentru ca se indeplineste.&lt;br /&gt;- iubirea nu se termina niciodata &lt;br /&gt;- norocul vine din interior si se hraneste din bogatia creierului tau. (cel pe care il ai, il stii, cu care visezi, in care aduni, cel caruia te rogi si cel care te face sa speri)&lt;br /&gt;- investeste in tine pentru ca nimeni nu o face mai bine. tu esti bunul tau cel mai de pret. &lt;br /&gt;- exista un moment t mic, in care iti dai seama ca, de fapt, esti singur. &lt;br /&gt;- nu exista un barometru al exchilibrului dintre ce esti (in sinea ta) si ce poti exprima (verbal si nonverbal) si ce pot intelege ceilalti. afli la sfarsit de tot cand esti inconstient de mort ca sa constientizeti. practic pare o cursa fara scop. pentru cei care prefera un creier odihnit. &lt;br /&gt;- ce trebuie sa se intample se intampla. &lt;br /&gt;- daca nu mai ai repere nu inseamna ca te-ai pierdut definitiv. inseamna ca tebuie sa ai rabdare. si sa mergi mai departe. &lt;br /&gt;- daca nu gasesti explicatii nu inseamna ca nu stii sa cauti. inseamna ca trebuie sa perseverezi. &lt;br /&gt;- nu trebuie sa faci totul perfect, trebuie sa faci. &lt;br /&gt;- daca nu mai ai resurse, termina o carte la 10:47, viziteaza-ti familia, imbratiseaza-ti jumatatea, cafeleste-te ad hoc cu o prietena, plimba-te, uita-te cum decoleaza si aterizeaza avioane si... pentru nici o clipa nu-ti lasa creierul sa doarma. fa-l sa vizeze. ce ai in interior se numeste norocul tau.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-868473965000112691?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/868473965000112691/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=868473965000112691' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/868473965000112691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/868473965000112691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/norocul-vine-din-interior.html' title='norocul vine din interior'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-3229630894478571039</id><published>2009-03-25T11:34:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T11:44:45.551+02:00</updated><title type='text'>o anti diva</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/84lz-HPCR4A&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/84lz-HPCR4A&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Polly Jean Harvey este ceea ce cunoscatorii au denumit anti diva. O artista completa care a transpus in muzica cele mai urate temeri ale noastre. &lt;br /&gt;Desemnata in 1992 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Cea mai buna cantareata debutanta si Cea mai buna cantautoare&lt;/span&gt; de catre revista Rolling Stone, Harvey are un stil aparte pentru ca apeleaza la o lume interioara, o lume ce-i apartine in totalitate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down by the water&lt;/span&gt; este o balada extraordinara, un reper al anilor '90.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-3229630894478571039?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/3229630894478571039/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=3229630894478571039' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3229630894478571039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3229630894478571039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/o-anti-diva.html' title='o anti diva'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-6786058899895653614</id><published>2009-03-22T17:05:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T12:12:15.369+02:00</updated><title type='text'>confessions of a shopaholic</title><content type='html'>&lt;script src="http://www.cinemarx.ro/trailere/embed/rxt.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;rxt_id="388004,3453";rxt_width="430";rxt_height="340";rxt_display();&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Literatura chic a debutat prin 2005 cu diavolul se imbraca de la Prada. A urmat Ma dau in vant dupa cumparaturi si apoi Polirom a vazut ca sunt multe gagici care citesc carti amuzante, ushurele, care sa le invete care e treaba cu baietii, hainele si inalta societate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asa s-a nascut Chic lit in Romania. Nu e un concept nou - ce-ar mai fi sa fim noi primii, dar asa s-au nascut primii puradei ai famuliei Chic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Ok, nu intra in panica. Nu e chiar asa o problema majora, nu? Dar cum, a aparut un nou film Chic si eu nu il pot vedea? Ar trebui sa existe un club al fetelor care vor sa vada PRIMELE filmele de calitate. Da. Este un must. O sa-mi cumpar niste decoratiuni dragute de la Innova si o sa amnajez o camera speciala, apoi imi fac repede un blog ca e la moda si o sa am supersucces. O sa fie un nou concept: Chic au maison sau ceva de genul asta. Oricum, pana atunci tre sa torrentez filmul asta pentru ca nu mai pot de curiozitate..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie Kinsella, una dintre cele mai bune autoare de Chic lit si-a vazut seria transpusa pe marile ecrane. Mai multe detalii despre Kinsella puteti gasi pe site-ul scriitoarei http://www.randomhouse.com/bantamdell/kinsella/ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy ZaMovie ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-6786058899895653614?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/6786058899895653614/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=6786058899895653614' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6786058899895653614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6786058899895653614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/no-comment.html' title='confessions of a shopaholic'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-504300022722287718</id><published>2009-03-20T11:31:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T12:05:12.816+02:00</updated><title type='text'>varste incrucisate</title><content type='html'>coditie mizera de chirias: in camera miroase a balsam de rufe. e liniste cumplita si nu-mi pot distrage atentie de la ticaitul ceasului din perete. imi amintesc si acum cand l-am castigat: era o promotie in supermarket - cumparai doua cutii de suc si castigai unul din eternele "mari premii". ei bine, unul din ele l-am castigat eu. acum ticaie in camera si ma simt ca la un test cretin cu picatura chinezeasca. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;din cand in cand se mai aude o sirena si incerc sa prelungesc sunetul cat mai mult insa ceasul asta e tare incapatanat. as zice ca e taur, dar ma tem ca m-as insela. &lt;br /&gt;stau inca in pijamalele sotului meu. am baut prea multa cafea in incercarea disperata de a ma trezi si acum imi tremura mainile si nu ma pot controla. exact asa imi tremurau si cand eram mai tanara. imi amintesc perfect. si atunci tot de la cafea credeam ca mi se trage. pe naiba. atunci erau noptile petrecute in cluburi care mai de care mai pline de fum de tigare si de barbati libidinosi care-si lasasera amprenta. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am citit o data ca fiecare varsta are frumusetea ei. ma intreb care este frumusetea varstei de 30 de ani? sincer, lasand la o parte o imaturitate mascata bine cu blush, atat eu cat si altele de 20 de ani facem in principiu acelasi lucru:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stam cu chirie in timp ce ne cautam simultan un apartament, un credit, un potential venit substantial si timp pentru toate; lasam la o parte cartile (sau citim pe furish, in graba) pentru a participa la cat mai multe social events; mintim in legatura cu principiile si valorile noastre pentru ca turma sa nu ne vada in doliu (vezi mitul oii negre); ne punem intrebari existentiale privind scopul si durata vietii noastre; ne laudam jobul in fata sefilor si il blamam o data cu alegerile facute in fata apropiatilor; facem turul europei si suntem in cautarea "marii iubiri" etc etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca la 20 de ani faci ce faci la 30 de ani, si, daca ai noroc si te magaresti putin, reusesti chiar sa duci o viata de 40 de ani... daca o femeie divortata de 46 ani si o pustoaica de 20 isi cauta jumatatea, daca una de 21 si alta de 36 sunt la fel de jobless si fara perspectiva... care sunt de fapt "coordonatele" fiecarei varste?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;sunt gagici de 22 in ochii carora citesti aceeasi maturitate ca in ochii uneia de 33. ce naiba se intampla cu timpurile astea? ah si apropo de timp... ceasul inca ticaie. o sa-l opresc la un moment dat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;colega mea lavinia s-a mutat cu noi in apartament acum 7 luni. a venit cu o geanta. i-am explicat ca nu e prea mult loc si s-a conformat. avea 22 de ani si nu vorbea. imi amintea de mine la... varsta pe care o am acum. culmea, nu-i asa? cu cateva luni inainte ma mutasem si eu in acelasi apartament, cu un singur geamantan si o planta in ghiveci. la discutii alcoolizate impartim aceleasi depresii si idealuri similare. si amandoua ajungem la trista concluzie ca "ce rost are?". dar incercam.. e ceva in firea omului care totusi nu se lasa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in agitatia urbana timpul s-a contractat. e din ce in ce mai scurt, mai putn, mai apasator. iti bate-n extrasistole si le zice: mai repede, mai repede! fetelor, trebuie sa faceti atatea! &lt;br /&gt;si ele ca proastele asculta si eu am tahicardii si imi tremura mainile si mi se pare ca am tot 20 de ani. dar n-am. am implinit 32 acum o luna si cred ca stiu atatea, dar nimic concret. &lt;br /&gt;am ajuns la concluzia ca intr-o existenta mizera de chirias conteaza ca macar mirosul sa fie frumos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-504300022722287718?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/504300022722287718/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=504300022722287718' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/504300022722287718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/504300022722287718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/varste-incrucisate.html' title='varste incrucisate'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2470883341773967249</id><published>2009-03-16T16:31:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T16:59:24.755+02:00</updated><title type='text'>despre libertate</title><content type='html'>Libertatea este dreptul sufletului de a respira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Libertatea este posibilitatea de a avea îndoieli, posibilitatea de a face o greşeală, posibilitatea de a căuta şi experimenta, posibilitatea de a spune Nu oricărei autorităţi - literare, artistice, filozofice, religioase, sociale şi chiar politice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Libertatea este starea de spirit prin care oamenii se indentifică cu adevaratul lor caracter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Libertatea este legea iubirii aproapelui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in cartea pe are o citesc scrie: "eu te iubesc, dar tu spui ca vrei sa fii liber. de ce sa fie libertatea mai importanta decat dragostea? fara dragoste, libertatea e goala. d ce nu pot coexista libertatea si dragostea? de ce dragostea trebuie sa fie prizoniera libertatii? atunci, cati oamnei traiesc in aceasta temnita?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dincolo de toate desteptaciunile astea ramane ceva valabil: libertatea este ceva spre care tindem. ne iese cateodata. pt putin. nu avem cum sa fim liberi pe deplin. sunt prea multe constrangerile cu care libertatea tre sa lupte. si daca noi nu suntem de partea ei..n-o sa fim niciodata liberi sa fim ceea ce am fost meniti sa fim. nu vom fi liberi nici macar s-o dam in bara in drum spre acolo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2470883341773967249?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2470883341773967249/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2470883341773967249' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2470883341773967249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2470883341773967249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/despre-libertate.html' title='despre libertate'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-6615631921109497343</id><published>2009-03-16T11:34:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T11:35:33.656+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cu drag, zathing</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/b0RhzQqxKpI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/b0RhzQqxKpI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-6615631921109497343?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/6615631921109497343/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=6615631921109497343' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6615631921109497343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6615631921109497343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/cu-drag-zathing.html' title='cu drag, zathing'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-3205184404981893675</id><published>2009-03-16T11:28:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T11:30:26.629+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cumpar sticla</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/W5vwAHyEhgM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/W5vwAHyEhgM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-3205184404981893675?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/3205184404981893675/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=3205184404981893675' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3205184404981893675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3205184404981893675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/cumpar-sticla.html' title='cumpar sticla'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-1635148783811112988</id><published>2009-03-11T17:57:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T18:21:12.045+02:00</updated><title type='text'>suferinta e creatie</title><content type='html'>Bah, eu zic asa:daca omul sufera e creativ. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La pol opus, cand nu mai poate de bine si inima-i trimite bezele... e la fel de creativ. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problema e la mijloc: cand nu esti nici calare, nici pe jos. Cand faci ce faci si nu-ti iese pui de rima. Nici macar doua cuvinte care sa faca o expresie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revenind, omu'-i da cu creativitatea cand i se sfasie sufletul si se descarca in cuvinte fictive care sa substituie alte conversatii care nu mai sunt reale. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suna bine boceala atata timp cat nu devii lame. Lumea empatizeaza cu tine ca nah, oricine sufera la un moment dat. tentatia majora este sa ramai asa: in sferinta! cum s-ar zice: "ca cavalerul tristei figuri" (mi-a placut expresia asta :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;din suferinta s-au nascut slagare si best sellere, linii vestimentare si scenarii de blockbustere. Gradul de creativitate e direct proportional cu cel al suferintei, ba mai mult: daca esti si depresiv, regulile matematice pot fi complet reinventate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ca si treaba asta cu criza care cere creativitate, suferinta emotionalo-socialo-patetico-schizofrenico-eminesciana naste genii imposibil de uita. e adevarat ca nu toata lumea atinge cotele notorietatii si mor cu creativitatea lor caznita cu tot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pentru a ajunge de la creatie la arta trebuie sa mai arcurgem cateva etape la capitolul "rupere a sufletului/mentalului" pe care putini le parcurc si asta nu doar de amorul artei. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;doresc sa le urez succes celor ce vor mai suferi si sa-i felicit pe aceasta cale pe cei creativi. loc pe net sa fie, ca, in rest, avem ce scrie :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-1635148783811112988?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/1635148783811112988/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=1635148783811112988' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1635148783811112988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1635148783811112988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/suferinta-e-creatie.html' title='suferinta e creatie'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-1035655998682581856</id><published>2009-03-10T08:20:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T08:22:06.237+02:00</updated><title type='text'>My Delirium</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QN8HwUxFouM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QN8HwUxFouM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Still here in this quiet room&lt;br /&gt;Deep in delusion sending me over&lt;br /&gt;Outside watch the world go by&lt;br /&gt;Inside time stands still as i wonder&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-1035655998682581856?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/1035655998682581856/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=1035655998682581856' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1035655998682581856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1035655998682581856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-delirium.html' title='My Delirium'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-3419970105930643819</id><published>2009-03-10T01:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T01:26:27.304+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Busdal</title><content type='html'>No, no intentes disculparte&lt;br /&gt;No juegues a insistir&lt;br /&gt;Las excusas ya existían antes de ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, no me mires como antes&lt;br /&gt;No hables en plural&lt;br /&gt;La retórica es tu arma más letal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voy a pedirte que no vuelvas más&lt;br /&gt;Siento que me dueles todavía aquí,&lt;br /&gt;Adentro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y que a tu edad sepas bien lo que es&lt;br /&gt;Romperle el corazón a alguien así&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No se puede vivir con tanto veneno,&lt;br /&gt;La esperanza que me da tu amor&lt;br /&gt;No me la dió más nadie,&lt;br /&gt;Te juro, no miento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No se puede vivir con tanto veneno&lt;br /&gt;No se puede dedicar el alma&lt;br /&gt;A acumular intentos&lt;br /&gt;Pesa más la rabia que el cemento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero que no esperes que te espere,&lt;br /&gt;Después de mis 26&lt;br /&gt;La paciencia se me ha ido hasta los pies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y voy deshojando margaritas&lt;br /&gt;Y mirando sin mirar,&lt;br /&gt;Para ver si así te irritas y te vas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voy a pedirte que no vuelvas más&lt;br /&gt;Siento que me dueles todavía aquí,&lt;br /&gt;Adentro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y que a tu edad sepas bien lo que es&lt;br /&gt;Romperle el corazón a alguien así&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No se puede vivir con tanto veneno&lt;br /&gt;La esperanza que me dió tu amor&lt;br /&gt;No me la dió más nadie&lt;br /&gt;Ya juro, no miento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No se puede morir con tanto veneno&lt;br /&gt;No se puede dedicar el alma&lt;br /&gt;A acumular intentos&lt;br /&gt;Pesa más la rabia que el cemento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No se puede vivir con tanto veneno&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-3419970105930643819?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/3419970105930643819/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=3419970105930643819' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3419970105930643819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3419970105930643819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/busdal.html' title='Busdal'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2024225207423707939</id><published>2009-03-10T00:55:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T01:14:03.365+02:00</updated><title type='text'>alvax</title><content type='html'>e 1 noaptea si am insomnie de nesomn. nu stiu unde mi se duc gandurile si as vrea sa le fac coerente cumva. aici. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mananc gutui si nu e toamna. beau ceai cald de vanilie si scriu. as vrea sa dorm. maine ma trezesc la 6 ca sa ce? nici nu mai stiu. cert e ca maine ma trezesc la 6. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ascult Vama Veche - Ana. sunt lame. ma uit la mine de undeva din lateral si-mi zic: ESTI VARZA! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am citit azi despre ceaiul de la ora 5 si mi s-a facut pofta: de biscuiti si gem de capsiuni. Nu am, asa ca improvizez cu felii de paine graham si dulceata de zmeura. si mi s-a mai facut pofta de ceva: de stat in pat in lumina portocalie, de vise, de tine, de dimineti in Tigra, de Ghidul Lenesului si de ecouri. Mi-e greata de astenie si e tot ce am in frigider. O mare astenie. Care iese si-mi cuprinde bucataria mica si zdrentuita. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ma gandesc: daca soarele rasare dimineata, si noapte stie cand sa intre-n scena, noi de ce nu ne stim cursul? unde ne e rutina si cum stim care e a noastra? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stiu ca maine, pe tastatura de la biroU vor casca ochii mei. plictisiti de criza si prea putini ca sa curpinda tot. e imposibil sa ne putem folosi creierul la 10 la suta. avem DOAR 2 ochi - nu putem citi mai mult. avem DOAR doua urechi - nu putem auzi din alte dimensiuni. Avem DOAR o inima, si aia luata cu imprumut. avem DOAR doua maini pe care azi le-am neglijat. Si picioare, TOT doua - pe care ne sprijinim cu nepasare. pe masa sunt doar firimituri. jur ca nu sunt ale mele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maine nu-l continua pe azi? nu-i asa? adik ... maine este ALTCEVA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2024225207423707939?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2024225207423707939/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2024225207423707939' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2024225207423707939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2024225207423707939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/alvax.html' title='alvax'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4129605498101522208</id><published>2009-03-10T00:34:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T00:45:46.536+02:00</updated><title type='text'>selios</title><content type='html'>as vrea sa pot sa sterg ce a fost. tot. picatura cu picatura. dar ce folos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as vrea sa fiu din nou copil. naiv. din cap in picioare. ma lasa timpul, oare?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as vrea sa am din nou iluzii. 13. dar ce ma fac cu reversul?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as vrea sa-mi regasesc ritmul. caramba. cum era coregrafia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as vrea sa nu dormi. visand. unde se duc gandurile tale?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as vrea sa-ti invat limba. ambigua. ma inveti alfabetul?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as vrea sa nu-mi mai fie frica. turbata. dar garda jos e o idee buna?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4129605498101522208?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4129605498101522208/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4129605498101522208' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4129605498101522208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4129605498101522208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/selios.html' title='selios'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-5126971662041755958</id><published>2009-03-06T17:29:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T17:53:28.741+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Istorii si religii</title><content type='html'>Istoria este o materie relativ plictisitoare. Interesanta, e adevarat. Marturie (trunchiata) a existentei noastre, cu siguranta. Dar cele mai frumoase istorii sunt cele ale povestilor de dragoste: care se scriu in prezent si se citesc la trecut. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oriunde mergem, asemeni cetatii dezgropate pe Lipscani, descoperim relicve ale anilor ce au fost. Invatam din mers sa datam fiecare intamplare. Sa memoram pe dinafara lupta crancena a primei despartiri, noaptea secreta a uneltirilor, minciuni cochete menite sa salveze o relatie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singura religie pe care o stim sunt fie el, fie ea, pentru care pacatuim, postim si ne intaltam de-a dreptul iubirii. Armate de ingeri si demoni stau cand in stanga, cand in drepta noastra si ne sfatuiesc. "Ingerasul meu, eu sunt mic, tu fa-ma mare".... vreau sa stiu cat doare". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Loving you is my religion". Azi da, maine cine stie? Poate mor sau, chiar mai rau, ma convertesc unei alte religii. Voi duce ofrande marii si voi canta o muzica noua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intr-o zi de marti i-am spus: "De azi eu sunt ateu!" Atunci religia nu a mai contat ca materie, iar istoria, sa fiu sincera, am uitat s-o mai invat. Examenul l-am dat la geografie: mi s-a parut mai usor sa calatoresc, tot inainte, decat sa tin minte datile in care ma rugam.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NqZqUS0CE9c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NqZqUS0CE9c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-5126971662041755958?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/5126971662041755958/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=5126971662041755958' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5126971662041755958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/5126971662041755958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/istorii-si-religii.html' title='Istorii si religii'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-6529883811507062010</id><published>2009-03-06T15:58:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T16:47:05.270+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Beyond your everything</title><content type='html'>Don't linger. Don't deny. Don't forget. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never forget: beyond this is another dimension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music is your only passaport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/U7dRqJgnY0g&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/U7dRqJgnY0g&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-6529883811507062010?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/6529883811507062010/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=6529883811507062010' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6529883811507062010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6529883811507062010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/beyond-your-everything.html' title='Beyond your everything'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-7810089379629587753</id><published>2009-03-03T20:51:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T20:58:44.956+02:00</updated><title type='text'>de ce ne complicam?</title><content type='html'>daca ai suflet de artist si aripi care vor sa zboare, dar esti prins in capcana pentru muste, ce faci? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca ai vise de care nu poti sa uiti si o voce interioara care-ti sopteste "nu uita de tine", dar stai treaz urmand visul altora, ce faci?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca vrei sa fii rege si sa-ti ghidezi poporul catre noi taramuri, dar nu ai armele potrivite, ce faci?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca nu esti singur si nici uitat, dar nu poti ajunge la sufletele care te asteapta, ce faci?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca n-am mai fi maestri ai prostiei, daca n-am mai cauta utopicul, daca ar fi totul mai simplu, n-ar fi mai bine???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-7810089379629587753?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/7810089379629587753/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=7810089379629587753' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7810089379629587753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/7810089379629587753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/de-ce-ne-complicam.html' title='de ce ne complicam?'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-6452982767727480042</id><published>2009-03-02T15:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T15:58:58.318+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cand nu e timp si nici spatiu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Savl5OsGQtI/AAAAAAAAACg/nTZsZpURyO8/s1600-h/oana.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 286px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Savl5OsGQtI/AAAAAAAAACg/nTZsZpURyO8/s320/oana.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308589357144621778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-6452982767727480042?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/6452982767727480042/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=6452982767727480042' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6452982767727480042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6452982767727480042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/cand-nu-e-timp-si-nici-spatiu.html' title='cand nu e timp si nici spatiu'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/Savl5OsGQtI/AAAAAAAAACg/nTZsZpURyO8/s72-c/oana.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4851526345330848991</id><published>2009-03-02T09:16:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T10:09:35.699+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cliche</title><content type='html'>Vine primavara cu-alaiul ei de flori:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;care flori ca nu se vad! nu tu pui de ghiocel firav, curios, ratacit in jungla urbana. doar mugurashi razleti in copaci. doar iz de primavara. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;primavara s-a mentinut in topul preferintelor mele. din cauza si poate chiar datorita revelatiei sora cu intelepciunea pe care o caut an de an. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;toate clecheele legate de 1 martie/primavara/inchiderea anului financiar/inceputul anului zodiacal... bla bla... toate astea la un loc te fac sa te gandesti ca bai, la naiba cu ce a fost! bring me something new!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fara doar si poate astept acea saptamana in care nu este nici prea cald, nici prea frig, in care soarele reincepe sa ne bata frateste pe spate, sa ne lip-lip si jap-jap peste fata, cand totul miroase a viata noua, a reincarnare si a poezie deloc bacoviana - care-i inspira pe creativi la noi slogane pentru reclamele la detergenti; este geamana celei din octombrie (pe care anul trecut am trait-o din plin, seara de seara, plimbandu-ma in fiecare parc din Bucuresti), doar ca mult mai aproape de sufletul meu. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am primit si prima zambila, chiar acum: e roz si miroase a crud. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dar cel mai frumos martisor a fost cel pe care l-am primit de la my better half: un ananas cu o forma perfecta de ananas :) (pe principiul "pentru ca iti plac plantele in ghiveci")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;astept cu interes ca toate cliseele sa dea navala peste noi, sa ne scoata din amorteala asta pt ca asa nu se mai poate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4851526345330848991?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4851526345330848991/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4851526345330848991' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4851526345330848991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4851526345330848991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/03/cliche.html' title='cliche'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-8744517845028524685</id><published>2009-02-27T13:46:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T14:00:32.932+02:00</updated><title type='text'>mistakes</title><content type='html'>To take a miss or to miss a take... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be or not to be a mistake! Asta-i intrebarea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar a cui? de ce? pentru ce sau cine? de dragul a ce? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok. nu intra in panica. mi-am zis. am dat repeat - ce-i drept voit - si orgia s-a dezlantuit. a pornit subtil de la o strategie de adwords care, frumos crosetata cand on cand off line a dat nastere unui ritual de imperechere. (a ideilor)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gresit. zic. si panica s-a instalat. cum se face ca, desi mi-am zis de-atatea ori ca nu mai fac... mi-am dat si anume cu tesla in taste? poate nu mi-a fost suficient? poate nu-mi mai aminteam cum este?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cu toate acestea, desi va intrebati care naibilor e ideea postului si cititi si nu intelegeti nimic va zic: mistakes-urile nu trebuie repetate. pe principiul nu-merge-bah-asa-las-o! - greselile o data facute trebuie asimilate. tre sa INVETI din ele nu sa le repeti la nesfarsit ca poate poate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;toate bune si frumoase, dar "care e motivul?" va intrebati. ei bine - nu va zic ca nu e relevant. e nesemnificativ motivul. efectul/dezamagirea e cea care conteaza si tre facut ceva in privinta ei. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oricat de fun si de nice si placut ar fi, daca stii ca ai incercat o data terenul si totusi ti-ai mai luat-o o data... u suck big time! &lt;br /&gt;concluzia e simpla: pe timp de furtuna, unii construiesc adaposturi, altii mori de vant. la tine cum bate briza?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-8744517845028524685?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/8744517845028524685/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=8744517845028524685' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8744517845028524685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/8744517845028524685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/02/mistakes.html' title='mistakes'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-1595032137109694201</id><published>2009-02-23T15:03:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T15:05:47.977+02:00</updated><title type='text'>O melodie de referinta</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vrv_bgZy_hw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vrv_bgZy_hw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este melodia pe care am ascultat-o si o voi asculta de fiecare data cu cea mai mare placere ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-1595032137109694201?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/1595032137109694201/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=1595032137109694201' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1595032137109694201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1595032137109694201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/02/o-melodie-de-referinta.html' title='O melodie de referinta'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-450555012620648136</id><published>2009-02-23T14:38:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T14:47:34.974+02:00</updated><title type='text'>looking for ...</title><content type='html'>"...La castel in poarta oare cine bate?&lt;br /&gt;Eu sunt buna fata, Romeo vestit&lt;br /&gt;Care din curvie ma intorc cinstit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De esti tu acela, nu-ti sunt soata eu.&lt;br /&gt;Du-te la betie, pentru fete mori&lt;br /&gt;Si-ti voi spune pururi &lt;br /&gt;minciuni in culori"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SaKZFGH-aMI/AAAAAAAAACY/-pGmq7awPhM/s1600-h/in+cautarea+jumatatii.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SaKZFGH-aMI/AAAAAAAAACY/-pGmq7awPhM/s320/in+cautarea+jumatatii.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305971623818324162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-450555012620648136?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/450555012620648136/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=450555012620648136' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/450555012620648136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/450555012620648136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/02/looking-for.html' title='looking for ...'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SaKZFGH-aMI/AAAAAAAAACY/-pGmq7awPhM/s72-c/in+cautarea+jumatatii.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-1201089197701922399</id><published>2009-02-23T10:42:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T10:57:14.313+02:00</updated><title type='text'>back to basics</title><content type='html'>Stiu, Stiu, Stiu &lt;br /&gt;Ca mori incet cu fiecare litera.&lt;br /&gt;Simt, Simt, Simt&lt;br /&gt;Ca te ascunzi acolo ca sa suferi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu pot, nu vreau, nu stiu&lt;br /&gt;Sa scriu povesti care nu schimba. &lt;br /&gt;Nu cred, n-astept, nu ma-ncanta&lt;br /&gt;Promisiuni desarte si senile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ascult, adorm, visez&lt;br /&gt;Balade negre la gura sobei noastre.&lt;br /&gt;Care vor da, vor lua, vor altera&lt;br /&gt;Treptat un basm intr-o realitate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-1201089197701922399?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/1201089197701922399/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=1201089197701922399' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1201089197701922399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1201089197701922399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/02/back-to-basics.html' title='back to basics'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-1472617818023220897</id><published>2009-02-19T15:35:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T16:41:16.253+02:00</updated><title type='text'>despre suflete pereche</title><content type='html'>Controversata poveste a sufletului pereche incepe in Forever Land, in Neant, pe strada Infinitului. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu face sa va plictisesc teribil cu descrierea starii de fapt a sufletului perfect, complet, plin, deloc ciuntit de cruda rupere in doua. Ok. poate o sa va povestesc doar un pic: imaginati-va un mall atipic unde e totul. unde gasesti si colectiile de ieri, si pe cele de azi, dar mai ales, pe cele inca neconcepute. ei bine, cam asa era sufletul arhetipal, androngin, nemarginit de constiinte si nici de lumea temporalo-spatiala in care avea sa se piarda mai apoi. nu are sens sa va descriu absolutul monoton, senzatia de cald si frig, culorile mereu complementare, principiile universal valabile inca nedenumite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asa ca va descriu macar, pe scurt, cum arata el, sufletul etern: imaginati-va un el si o ea goi, bine adanciti unul in altul, imbratisati intr-un sarut etern, cu mainile impreunate si picioarele unite la varfuri. N-as putea preciza daca pluteau intr-o materie ambigua sau daca ei insisi formau materia. cert este ca mall mai dragut ca acesta n-am vazut nici macar cu ochii mintii. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;un experiment cumplit generat de plictiseala (sa fim seriosi acum, ce e de facut cand totul e perfect?!), i-a despartit. si s-au format cuvinte, si peisaje, si scenarii, si era dinozaurilor, si evolutia speciilor si un meteorit a lovit o planeta, si s-au scufundat atlantide si au murit civilizatii si au ars bilblioteci si alte chestii pe care nu le stim s-au intamplat. Totul pentru a crea Jocul Suprem: &lt;em&gt;Gaseste-ti jumatatea!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este probabil cel mai complex joc creat vreodata. care nu are final, si care, desi jucat in planuri constiente, este alimentat de planuri supraomenesti, uberrealiste care deschid mereu noi si noi orizonturi. Singuratatea, orbecaiala, frica, goliciunea si ridicolul pe care sufletul incomplet le experimenteaza sunt, de fapt psihozele Eului Creator. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bulshit, o sa-mi spuneti. Ce e cu plictiseala asta? ei bine, astept un suflet care nu isi cauta sinele celalalt sa ma contrazica. Astept pe cineva care sa nu spere undeva in a miliarda lui celula, la o reintregire a sa. Astept sa-mi spuneti ca nu exista sufletul acela care, fara sa-i spui, sa planga cu tine, sa faca sex cu tine, sa-ti scrie lucuri pe care nici tu nu stii ca vrei sa le auzi, care sa simta iubire la fel de intens ca tine, acela alaturi de care sa pari ireal doar pentru ca esti complet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gnaditi-va ca pe masura ce eu scriu, in Forever Land se mai rupe-n doua un suflet care acum cand voi cititi...isi incepe cautarea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-1472617818023220897?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/1472617818023220897/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=1472617818023220897' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1472617818023220897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/1472617818023220897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/02/despre-suflete-pereche.html' title='despre suflete pereche'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-6068291145370102564</id><published>2009-02-18T13:36:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T13:35:48.859+03:00</updated><title type='text'>cum distrugi o relatie?</title><content type='html'>o relatie e ft usor de distrus. pentru ca exista orgolii. ele sunt tot timpul dispuse sa va vada certati. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ei bine se ia una bucata poveste incheiata si se presara din abundenta peste noul aluat. se amesteca bine pana licoarea este incorporata. &lt;br /&gt;se lasa la dospit si din cand in cand se framanta sa ramana proaspata. amintirea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;apoi, cand coca creste, si e frageda, dospita, gata sa fie bagata la cuptor, se inteapa bine cu iubire. cu atentie. cu promisiuni. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se baga la cuptor. se asteapta sa creasca. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si ce sa vezi, marie? coca nu va creste. nici nu va fi rumena si nici nu va mirosi bine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nu se va coace. nu va fi buna de mancat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;morala e ca daca aveti vreodata, oameni buni, pe alocuri norocosi, ghinionul sa gasiti ce cautati de ani si ani, si sa faceti o cura cu un asemenea elixir, NU permiteti sub nici o forma sa se altereze formula. retetele bune au intotdeauna un secret care daca pica pe mana unui bucatar nepriceput... isi pierde din savoare.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-6068291145370102564?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/6068291145370102564/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=6068291145370102564' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6068291145370102564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/6068291145370102564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/02/cum-distrugi-o-relatie.html' title='cum distrugi o relatie?'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-2066408543010081956</id><published>2009-02-18T09:44:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T10:08:01.828+02:00</updated><title type='text'>no cosmos...</title><content type='html'>stii ca niciodata nu-ti poti da seama de dimensiunea lucrurilor sau de importanta lor daca nu ai un termen de comparatie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ei bine, tristetea pe care o simt acum nu are termen de comparatie. poate pentru ca, in cazul de fata, conteaza foarte mult sursa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si cand sursa este centrul universului tau, cosmosul, oricat de nemarginit/atotputernic ar fi, se distruge. il macina incet... se oglindeste in alte entitati si isi da seama cat de mic, de nimic si de fragil este. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nu pot nici macar sa scriu. imi amintesc ca in alte situatii, tristetea ma inspira. acum nu pot decat sa dispar... dinspre centru spre infinit. caci fara centrul universului meu pur si simplu cosmos nu exista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SZvBRymbqcI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Ld6C27D_jeg/s1600-h/cosmos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 176px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SZvBRymbqcI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Ld6C27D_jeg/s320/cosmos.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304045497543797186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-2066408543010081956?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/2066408543010081956/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=2066408543010081956' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2066408543010081956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/2066408543010081956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/02/no-cosmos.html' title='no cosmos...'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhfAKz2m0V4/SZvBRymbqcI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Ld6C27D_jeg/s72-c/cosmos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-23878593908623313</id><published>2009-02-16T13:54:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T13:57:25.682+02:00</updated><title type='text'>celor ce iubesc</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Rq8aWRHViMA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Rq8aWRHViMA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand am vazut videoclipul m-am gandit la Miss Tinkerbell.&lt;br /&gt;Nu lasati fericirea pe maine pentru ca s-ar putea sa nu mai mai fie o alta sansa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-23878593908623313?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/23878593908623313/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=23878593908623313' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/23878593908623313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/23878593908623313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/02/celor-ce-iubesc.html' title='celor ce iubesc'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-3158446025482710539</id><published>2009-02-12T16:38:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T16:42:15.510+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sean's</title><content type='html'>Am primit astazi, fara surle si trambite si doar asa.. pentru ca e joi, urmatoarele randuri: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Cum se face?! Pei, fiecare o face in felul lui. Natura umana face ca felul tau sa fie mai special decat al lui, si al lui, mai special decat al tau. Este cel mai vechi sentiment cunoscut omenirii. Oribil, desigur, cand se termina. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unii nu mai au curajul sa mai treaca din nou prin asta. Asemeni unor vietati mici, dar ochioase :) care se tem de foc, se apropie curioase de el, simtind caldura, un bine utopic, confort, afectiune. Sadici fiind, ne gandim la un vant care bate, la un foc care se-nteteste si care arde vietatea inocenta, cu tot cu ochi ei mari si umezi (Julie style). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insa nu, nu vreau asta. Nu arde atat de rau incat sa nu mai vreau caldura niciodata. Nu mai mananci fistic ca ai dat de unu' stricat? Nu mai porti o pereche de adidasi fiindca ai calcat in rahat cu ei? Nu toti sunt la fel, nu toate sunt la fel! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pentru ochi inlacrimati de fericire, pentru stele pe cer pe care numai eu le vad, pentru respiratie accelerata simtita cu lobul urechii, pentru gustul mini, pentru cel de-al treilea picior care apare atunci cand dorm, pentru zambetul lui "Noi", pentru tocuri, pentru macarale, pentru ceva atat de special incat nimeni nu-l intelege.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pentru noi 2, pentru EA! Pentru asta stau langa foc! Pentru EA! &lt;/em&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps: nu a existat nici o intrebare prealabila. doar un pupic de noapte buna ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-3158446025482710539?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/3158446025482710539/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=3158446025482710539' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3158446025482710539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/3158446025482710539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/02/seans.html' title='Sean&apos;s'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7552319154059767514.post-4291021483464276822</id><published>2009-02-10T20:11:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T09:40:51.567+02:00</updated><title type='text'>za chicken or za monkey?</title><content type='html'>zi de zi, infrigurati de ganduri si distrusi emotional, ne uimim de Imparatia Omului. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;care pare, pe alocuri, furata. de unde anume nu se stie clar. se vor face, cu siguranta, noi cercetari asidue insa rezultatul va ramane neconcludent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daca desenezi pe spatele unui om traditionalul pom si-un soare, poate si niste pasari calatoare, omul e posibil sa nu simta desenul si, ca sa nu para idiot, deseneaza o replica a desenului tau fix in functie de ce stie el mai bine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in pamfletul "in cautarea creierului pierdut", autorul noteaza: "analiza a devenit reduntata. comportamentul subiectului tratat este inevitabil asemanator. ceea ce ma determina sa recunosc faptul ca specia este cat se poate de limitata."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;citind cu ochiul vanat al mintii randurile notate cu maiestrie, poate chiar sinceritate, nu pot sa nu ma intreb: ce a fost mai inainte: za chicken or za monkey? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imparatia Omului a fost, cred, (de fapt sunt pe cale de a fi precisa), furata de la suratele noastre mai putin epilate, maimutele. daca poti lua o maimuta si simti ca o poti identifica in orice situatie "homo sapiens" inseamna ca gluma e pe seama noastra; ca poate, nu suntem asa inventivi, ci poate mai articulati sau stramtorati (de cate un chilot tanga)decat credeam. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu inceteaza sa-mi satisfaca cele trebuincioase mintii tot ce vad, ascult, simt sau miros pe parcursul a 24 de ore. nu pot sa nu adulmec cu intensitatea celui care e curios, aceasta lume dezordonata, ambigua, dezlanata si nevrotica in care traim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;traiasca maimutele si mostenirea pe care ne-au lasat-o!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7552319154059767514-4291021483464276822?l=zathing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/feeds/4291021483464276822/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7552319154059767514&amp;postID=4291021483464276822' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4291021483464276822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7552319154059767514/posts/default/4291021483464276822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zathing.blogspot.com/2009/02/za-chicken-or-za-monkey.html' title='za chicken or za monkey?'/><author><name>zathing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09763847326850423041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
