"Omul care ştie să fie singur, acela te înţelege cu adevărat, acela care te iubeşte cu adevărat.
Celălalt, prea aproape, îţi ţine doar umbră." Constantin Noica
Incep sa cred ca s-a produs o epidemie de leapsa pe blogosfera...dar din nou....fiind mama....nu poate fi refuzata.... Pe de alta parte.... mi-e dor de mare... solutii?
If I would be a:
country: Britain
door: the pink door to a dolls house
form - shape and state: wiggly line
state of mind: depressed
quantity: small
sunblock: 50+
streetname: Broadway
planet: Abramcoley (google it)
American: Kennedy, Rose Elizabeth Fitzgerald (the first public Kennedy)
dream: nightmares....and daymares
Romanian: Vlad Dracul
Belgian: Princess Mathilde
Am avut o discutie aseara si intr-un fel am ajuns la melodia si videoclipul Queen...ar fi o idee buna...mi-ar placea sa-mi vad unii din prieteni in locul lui Freddy...se fac inscrieri in loc de cadou de florii....a girl can dream...
Iar...din nou...again...da ce sa-i faci...e mama....porunca de sus....
DACA AS PUTEA FI: o floare: Hoya Carnosa...floare de ceara pentru restul lumii un anotimp: toamna... culoare: galben....mi s-a zis sa numai spun negru ca nu e culoare un animal: Mishu sa nu fie gelos... (dar as prefera o lama...habar n-am de ce...au ele ceva special) un obiect vestimentar: pantofi cu toc stilleto o piesa de mobilier: love couch piesa muzicala: Nicolae Kirculescu - Asa incepe dragostea un vers: Putea sa fie inger...dar am scos si sufletul din el un peisaj: o casuta batraneasca pe un munte acoperita de zapada...pe care mai mult o ghicesti datorita fumului timid ce-i iese din horn un obiect: o carte un instrument muzical: clavecin Pascal Taskin un copac: salcia uscata de pe malul unui lac ce asteapta un ultim traznet de adio un oras: Salonic persoana publica: Marilyn Monroe alta persoana apropiata: oricine in afara de mine o carte: N. Porsenna - Spre fericire un fel de mancare (sau ceva dulce): pizza...ca vine mai repede decat salvarea... un super erou: Lara Croft un fenomen al naturii: aurora boreala o masina: Alfa Romeo 8C un fruct: fructul pasiunii o parte a corpului: corpul diplomatic un film: No Country for Old Men
A fost odata ca niciodata ca de n-ar fi nu s-ar mai povesti, intr-un castel uitat de lume de la capatul pamantului, intr-un decor cu iz de vechi si de fantezie, o mica, zvapaiata si vesela fetita. Si asa incep toate basmele copilariei si toate au un final frumos in care vine printul calare pe calul alb si salveaza printesa la ananghie si traiesc fericiti pana la adanci batraneti... In basme nu s-a inventat inca divortul...in basme niciodata nu mor oamenii buni.... sau daca mor sufletul le ramane sa-i ajute pe ceilalti.. In basme nimeni nu o obliga pe printesa sa faca nimic din ceea ce nu-si doreste iar zana cea buna e mereu pregatita acolo sa isi ajute protejata...:)
De ce nu e si in viata asa? De ce oamenii rai sunt vesnic mai multi decat cei buni...de ce nu am si eu o zana buna sa ma ajute atunci cand nu stiu in ce directie sa ma duc....? De mine cine are grija cand trecutul revine si ma inghite? Imi regret trecutul...imi detest prezentul...la viitor nici nu vreau sa ma gandesc...
My summer love has no ideea about how much I care about cashmir and soft things...about black colours and sad things but my never ending feeling is pure and I am waiting for something...the only problem is i have no ideea for what...I dream of cherryes everywhere and sometimes I'm just to afraid to wake up from a day dream and confrunt the reallity...
M-am saturat sa-mi agat un zambet dragut pe fata si sa ma prefac ca totul e perfect...am mai spus si imi sustin parerea...ar trebui sa se inventeze o noua categorie la oscar pentru cel mai bun rol jucat in viata de zi cu zi:) Iata, dragule, asta ai creat tu din mine...esti mandru? Cand inchid ochii te vad cum trupul tau se indeparteaza, usor, cu fiecare pas de al meu. Deschid ochii si ma intrebam daca exista o imagine mai trista de atat, exista ceva mai rau decat sa vad cum iubirea ma paraseste...facandu-i loc disperarii si singuratatii? Am crezut ca va trece repede asa cum se intampla de fiecare data... Am crezut ca pun un zambet de bravura un timp...si dupa ramai doar o amintire...timpul ar trebui sa vindece ranile...de ce nu se vindeca atunci? Totul devine din ce in ce mai negru si gol... Perna te striga, mi-e dor sa-ti vad zambetul cand ma trezesc, nici usa nu se deschide daca stie ca tu nu o vei mai deschide vreodata, iar covorul si prosopul complotesc impotriva mea sa plece in cautarea ta. Tu iti dai seama ce se intampla? Ceea ce tu calcai in picioare zilnic vrea sa isi faca bagajele si sa plece dupa tine, sa ti se astearna la picioare sa-l calci din nou!!! Si nu inteleg de ce vreau sa fac acelasi lucru.... Totul parca s-a schimbat in jurul meu, intreaga mea existenta te plange...nimic parca numai e la fel …Dragule, daca nici obiectele ce ma inconjoara si odata de mult, parca intr-o alta viata, te-au inconjurat si pe tine, eu ce ar trebui sa fac…nu pot face altceva decat sa tac…chiar daca as vorbi n-as sti ce sa-ti spun...si mor...in fiecare zi cate putin....pana ce la un moment dat . Mor de foame, mor de sete, si mor de somn. Ma omori usor si tu nici nu stii si e vina mea ca nici nu vei afla vreodata. Mi-e foame de tine, mi-e sete de sarutul tau, mi-e pofta de ochii tai, ma chinuie lipsa bratelor tale. Vino inapoi dragule, caci mi-e somn si-mi vreau visele cu tine inapoi si mi-e timpanul surd, fara vocea ta strigandu-ma prin casa!
Am tot incercat, si mi-am dorit foarte mult să fiu iar eu, cea de-acum cateva luni. Cea care desi trecea printr-o perioada de tranzitie...prin prea multe schimbari avea un fel de liniste interioara si de echilibru pe care o tot remarca toata lumea.Am tot cautat persoana aia si...ei bine, ghinion. Se pare ca nu ma pot intalni cu acea stare in sapta-lunile astea. Pur si simplu a disparut. Si nu e pentru ca nu prea are cum sa fie, si am ajuns la concluzia ca pur si simplu acum sunt in ape tulburi. Nu e foarte grav...e doar apa tulbure...nedefinita. Si desi stiu ca orizontul e undeva acolo si desi am busola imi functioneaza cum trebuie, inca nu m-am decis ce am de facut, in ce directie trebuie sa vaslesc pentru a ajunge acolo, cate leghe pe zi trebuie sa parcurg si cu ce viteza... Stiu CUM vreau sa fiu in viata cat de cat dar nu mi-e clar CE vreau să fac la nivel concret.Ma simt ca şi cand as avea 3 ani dar m-am încăltat cu pantofii mamei, sau ca atunci cand mic fiind si nestiind foarte multe ajungi din greseala in camera unde discuta adultii..., unde nu reusesti sa intelegi ce e cu limbajul asta al lor diferit, de ce nu discuta si ei despre masinute si bomboane ca tine ci despre lucruri neintalnite si neauzite de tine. Hei, e clar ca nu e bine si ca nu e usor în apele astea tulburi. Am încercat sa le limpezesc insa am ajuns la concluzia că ma lupt cu morile de vant. Ce putem noi sa facem aici în barca deocamdata e să stam calmi, sa observam atenti situatia si toata degringolada asta a apelor interne pana când apare de undeva vreo luminita de la care sa reusim sa impletim ceva.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“'Tis some visiter, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door,
Only this and nothing more”.
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me, filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"Tis some visiter, entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;
This it is and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
I scarce was sure I heard you", here I opened wide the door,
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!",
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is and this mystery explore,
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore”;
'Tis the wind and nothing more.
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door,
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then the ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore, Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven: "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if its soul in that one word he did outpour
Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered,
Till I scarcely more than muttered: "Other friends have flown before,
On the morrow he will leave me, as my
Hopes have flown before.
" Then the bird said "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore,
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never, nevermore.'"
But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore,
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee, by these angels he hath sent thee Respite, respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven: "Nevermore."
“Prophet!” said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil!,
Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted,
On this home by Horror haunted, tell me truly, I implore,
Is there, is there balm in Gilead?, tell me, tell me, I implore!"
the Raven: "Nevermore!"
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore,
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven: "Nevermore!"
"Be that our sign of parting, bird or fiend!"
I shrieked, upstarting, "Get thee back into the tempest and the
Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul has spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven: "Nevermore!!"
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting,
On the pallid bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadows on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Si oricum.. totul are un sfarsit. Tu ai zis la un moment dat ca nu-s decat un copil in haine de om mare...si poate sunt dar cine-ti da dreptu daca stii deja ca-s doar un copil sa-ti incalci promisiunile? Sooo…hiiiit the road, Jack!
Sunt captiva. Sunt limitata in toate directiile. Sangele mi se urca in ochi, nu mai vad bine. Capul imi plesneste, creierii imi amortesc. Sunt captiva si ma macin incet. Ma erodez putin cate putin. Imi vine sa urlu, sa sparg, sa fug. Si in loc de asta tac. Pana la implozie...
Azi e zi de leapsa?...am primit pe mail leapsa pentru blog???..in fine...facand o traducere james m-a anuntat ca as fi printesa de gheata si nici macar atat ca ar insemna sa nu am inima daca nu fac si leapsa lui....ok...ii sunt datoare ca doar se chinuie sa-mi traduca blogu cand imi amintesc sa scriu:)...indiferent cat de stupida e leapsa lui:)...suna cam asa
1. Go to the 4th folder in your computer where you store your pictures. 2. Pick the 4th picture in that folder. 3. Explain the picture. 4. Tag 4 people to do the same!
Poza concert Armin...weekendu dintre probele de la bac...remixul la melodia Dash Berlin - Till the sky falls down...noroc cu ploaia nu se vedea ca plang...i hate this song....but yet... Si nu nu dau leapsa mai departe...nu-mi place sa fortez oameni..cine vrea poate sa o ia...:)
Fat-Frumos e tot MIA...inorogii roz si caprioarele au plecat de mult...iar turnul meu pare sa creasca cu fiecare zi si iedera il sufoca...
"Prea multă speranţă şi prea multă disperare - iată cele două feţe ale erorii morale." Andrei Plesu
