<?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-178334737424943286</id><updated>2012-02-16T15:26:14.745+02:00</updated><category term='delir cadere zbor emptiness'/><title type='text'>Poezie &amp; Proza</title><subtitle type='html'>Citeste printre randuri, vezi dincolo de cuvinte</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-7148285416301181884</id><published>2010-02-26T03:24:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T03:48:05.543+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Release me</title><content type='html'>Release me from living a boring life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rutina, plictiseala, nimic, un nimic plicticos, si aceleasi sentimente. Fiecare loc te leaga de el cu anumite sentimente, fie ele bune sau rele. Iti aduci aminte prima data cand ai fost la mare cu cortul, prima senzatie de libertate totala, si nu vei uita niciodata locul unde ai zis pentru prima data "sunt eu, si nimic nu ma poate opri sa fiu eu!". In acelasi timp, locul unde iti desfasori viata de zi cu zi, unde iti tii toate frustrarile, coridorul caminului, pe care ai stat pana la ore dubioase, depanand amintiri si despicand firul in 4 asupra unor probleme mai mult sau mai putin reale, in diferite stadii de betie,cu tot felul de oameni, ti se pare un loc ingrozitor, datorita invalmasirii sentimentelor diferite ca intensitate si semnificatie. Dar totusi cand e gol ti se pare atat de pustiu si sinistru chiar. In clipele acelea nu te mai leaga decat o stare de visare la fel de sinistra ca si coridorul in sine. Cand te joci cu bricheta, desi nu fumezi, si auzi doar sunete infundate din camerele incuiate, dar nimic concret, iti zici ca ar trebui sa te culci. Dar de  ce sa faci asta? Sa pierzi singurele momente de liniste pe care le ai?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perdelele ce nici nu filtreaza lumina, nu sunt nici opace dar nici transparente, si nu blocheaza privirea oamnilor ce se plimba prin fata geamului noaptea, dar sunt de un roz atat de suparator incat ti-ar face placere sa le vezi arzand impreuna cu asternuturile la fel de roz ale colegelor de camera, nu ajuta la detasarea de real. Culoarea suparatoare parca te tine intr-adins treaz si constient de ce e in jur, si ea te detesta la fel de mult cat este ea detestata de tine. Deciziile inconstiente ale persoanei care le-a cumparat te face sa iti pierzi calmul de fiecare data cand te uiti afara. Si la ce sa te uiti? La alt perete gol, portocaliu, cu tencuiala cazuta, si cu pete de noroi pe el. Nimic mai bun nici cand iesi din nou pe hol, si de acolo afara. Mazga de pe jos, cainii vagabonzi, trafic, poluare, injuraturi, taximetristi scarbiti, oameni grabiti, o combinatie perfecta, un tablou al capitalei, un tablou al vietii banal de dezgustatoare pe care o duci. Tu si inca cateva sute de oameni ca tine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu mai e nimic de zis, nimic nu se va schimba prea curand, masa de oameni va fi mereu aceiasi, aceleasi masini si aceiasi caini. Nu conteaza daca ei se schimba, pentru tine vor fi intotdeauna "multimea, traficul si vagabonzii" omniprezenti in zona.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Urasc rozul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-7148285416301181884?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/7148285416301181884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=7148285416301181884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/7148285416301181884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/7148285416301181884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2010/02/release-me.html' title='Release me'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-4237173958341558145</id><published>2010-01-18T10:26:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T10:28:33.640+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Din nou aici</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Nici sonata lunii si nici predarea de maine nu ma afecteaza. M-a pocnit o stare oribila. Simt in adancul meu ca ce ceva se va intampla...si nu stiu despre ce e vorba. Sunt agitata si fara chef, parca am un nod in gat, si ceva nu ma lasa sa respir. In acelasi timp, stomacul meu sta pregatit parca pentru o invazie. Nu inteleg ce mi se intampla. Nu pot sa ma concentrez, dar pot sa ma uit in gol pentru minute in sir si sa nu aud nimic in jur. Cred ca incep sa o iau razna. Eh, nu-i nimic, asa poate sunt si eu observata sau poate fac ceva ce imi doresc de mult. Sau poate nu. Mi se pare ca nu mai este nimic maine, un neant fara sfarsit. Ca atunci cand stai in mijlocul unui drum ce e invaluit in ceata si nu se termina, nu ii vezi sfarsitul, dar nici ce este la 2 metrii de tine. Oriunde te uiti este alb, liniste si racoare. Esti singur si nimeni nu te aude. Ai putea sa mergi ore in sir fara sa gasesti ceva. Ar fi minunat. Liniste totala...impietrire. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Si din nou te gandesti ce iti aduce ziua de maine. Iti spun eu, nimic, absolut nimic. E o zi la fel ca oicare alta, in care nu se va intampla nimic. Aceiasi oameni fara fetze sau nume, aceleasi zgomote produse de aceleasi surse, aceleasi locuri murdare si imbaxite din care nu poti scapa, pentru ca asa doreste societatea. O inchisoare impusa si acceptata fara proces. Exact asa vei vedea ca nimic nu se schimba. Dupa proiectul asta va veni altul. Unul se termina doar ca altul sa inceapa, este o etapa ciclica a vietii tale din care nu poti scapa decat daca iti tii respiratia si te ineci. Da, ai citit bine. Trebuie sa te scufunzi sub stratul de suprafata pe care plutesc tot felul de mizerii ale vietii umane. Sa te scufunzi spre negrul necunoscut si rece ce zace infinit sub tine. Dar putini au curajul. Sa uite de lumea de sus si sa ramana acolo, caci au gasit un loc pe placul lor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Si mai mult decat atat, cand aburul iti iese pe gura, si ceata deasa s-a transformat in ninsoare, realizezi ca oricum iei lucrurile, tot singur vei ramane. La fel cum fulgul ce ti-a cazut in palma se topeste singur, dar este la fel cu cei ce cad impreuna, caci ei se topesc la fel, singuri in multime...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Intotdeauna vom fi singuri, indiferent de ce se afla in jurul nostru.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-4237173958341558145?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/4237173958341558145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=4237173958341558145' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/4237173958341558145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/4237173958341558145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2010/01/din-nou-aici.html' title='Din nou aici'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-2037156398099138747</id><published>2009-12-22T23:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T23:58:27.404+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Learn to fly</title><content type='html'>Vii fugind...stai 5 minute, si pleci in fuga. Te-am plictisit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vii incet, cu pasi marunti. Nu iti ridici privirea si treci pe langa mine. Ma ignori&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vii usor, cu pasi sprinteni, te uiti la mine o clipa, apoi pleci razand. Iti bati joc de mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vii vesel, sari si razi. Ma vezi si te opresti brusc. Pleci incet. Iti e mila de mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu mai vii... M-ai parasit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incerci sa iti ceri scuze prin lipsa ta. Crezi ca am sa te uit. Imi e frig, si soarele a apus de mult. E iarna si ninge. Tu nu existi. Nici un semn care mi-ar putea da de banuit ca ai existat vreodata. Fulgii reci se astern ca pe piatra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“Aici sunt!! Uita-te in sus!!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vantul sufla incet, si matura amintirea slaba a prezentei tale. Unde? Cand? Se poate sa fi fost fara sa imi dau seama? Este un spatiu nemarginit, imens, si totusi ma sugruma, si ma simt inghesuita. Pianul nu stiu de unde se aude, dar se potriveste atat de bine cu frunzele ce cad, cu vantul ce le imprastie, cu ploaia ce le uda..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“Nu ma auzi...am incercat...”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invat sa zbor. Am vazut candva la un vultur. Nu e atat de greu...Am cele trei pene ce mi-au soptit ca ma vor ajuta. Una alba, ea ma va purta sus de tot, in lumina. Una pictata cu nuante brune, ce ma va ajuta sa ma desprind, si una neagra, ma va proteja..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“NU! Nu sari, uita-te la mine..asculta-ma!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am gasit si locul perfect...o pajiste verde, ce se termina brusc cu o prapastie, dincolo de care se continua, si afiseaza cel mai frumos peisaj imaginabil. Nu imi e frica, stiu ca voi reusi. Voi zbura catre soare, apoi voi plana lin peste padurile de brazi ce mi se intind la picioare. Voi vedea caprioare si ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“Te rog, asculta-ma, pot sa te ajut. Nu e nimic dincolo, n-o face...”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...imi iau avnt, ma duc cat de departe pot...si fug, fug inspre libertate. Inchid ochii si sar...vezi? nu ai avut dreptate, pot zbura! Si rad, rad din toata inima, cum nu am mai rad vreodata..uite, vezi? Pot! Pot! Si nu ai avut incredere in mine! Sunt libera!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“NU!! NU!! ...nu pot..nu...nu imi vine sa cred ce ai facut. Cum ai putut? Eram aici, trebuia doar sa te uiti in jur. Am fost intotdeauna aici...”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In bataia vantului, un singur om a fost martor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-2037156398099138747?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/2037156398099138747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=2037156398099138747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/2037156398099138747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/2037156398099138747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2009/12/learn-to-fly.html' title='Learn to fly'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-3296196093862144523</id><published>2009-11-24T17:33:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T17:50:23.526+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunt libera</title><content type='html'>Ma vad la mare. Singura pe mal, nu este nimeni sa imi deranjeze acest moment perfect. Rochia alba imi flutura pe langa corp si imi mangaie pielea, iar vantul se joaca in parul meu. Lumina difuza ascunde tot timpul ce a trecut peste acel nisip fin ce imi sta la picioare, scaldat in apa sarata a marii. Un soare rosu apare incet la orizont, timid, parca sa nu raneasca cu lumina sa vietatile ce se ascund printre pietricele, si pe fundul apei. Apa imi scalda gleznele si ma poarta departe, spre orizont. Gandurile mele sunt la fel de departe, la trecut, la viitor, la toate clipele fericite din viata mea, la cele triste, ascest moment reunindu-le pe toate intr-un sentiment coplesitor. O lacrima imi aluneca pe obraz, si se pierde in marea sarata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Vantule, ia-ma cu tine, sa plutesc departe spre soare, sa zbor asemeni unei pasari, si sa uit de mine, si de viata mea aici jos, fa-ma nemuritoare!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incet lumina creste, si razele soarelui ma incalzesc, imi scalda chipul. Ma deschid ca o carte in fata lui, si pe raza paseste o lumina mai orbitoare decat cea solara, parca mai densa si mai fina. Ca un fum, se intreapta spre infinitul multicolor al cerului, lasandu-ma in urma sa cad fara suflare pe nisipul fin. In cadere, am vazut in sfarsit fericirea suprema, o clipa mai intensa decat toata viata mea, ce m-a facut sa imi dau seama. Eram libera. Eram nemuritoare...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-3296196093862144523?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/3296196093862144523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=3296196093862144523' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/3296196093862144523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/3296196093862144523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2009/11/sunt-libera.html' title='Sunt libera'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-1383781944615273171</id><published>2009-11-24T01:32:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T01:49:09.533+02:00</updated><title type='text'>E liniste</title><content type='html'>In sfarsit e liniste. Nimeni nu ma mai striga, si nimeni nu mai vorbeste.&lt;br /&gt;Dar totusi e atata galagie in capul meu, incat nimic din ce fac nu are logica, sau coerenta. Am incercat sa fac ordine intai in jurul meu, crezand ca asa organizez si ideile mele. Dar nu s-a intamplat. Si am vazut ca poti sa cazi mult mai jos decat podeaua camerei. As vrea sa simt o mana calda intr-a mea, si vantul sarat al marii in par. Sa simt nisipul sub picioare, si toate problemele sa dispara odata cu spuma valurilor. Dar asemeni lor, ele revin mereu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poate ca in alta lume, steaua mea nu cade, si straluceste cu putere asupra viselor mele. Sau pluteste atat de aproape incat caldura ei imi incalzeste surasul... am si uitat sa zambesc, sau sa rad din toata inima.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu, nu te apropia, s-ar putea sa te ranesc, doar uitandu-ma la tine. am o privire plina de ace ce tasnesc la cel mai mic contact. nu, nu te apropia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cealalta parte a mea ar vrea sa se desprinda si sa fuga din aceasta vizuina intunecata, sa vada cu alti ochi lumea, sa zboare si sa cante. dar este legata bine de piatra numita realitate. fugi cat mai poti, traieste, dar sa te intorci sa-mi povestesti, nu uita de mine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar a uitat...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-1383781944615273171?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/1383781944615273171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=1383781944615273171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/1383781944615273171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/1383781944615273171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2009/11/e-liniste.html' title='E liniste'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-4831822059481147850</id><published>2009-08-07T23:08:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T22:40:34.209+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cateva ganduri</title><content type='html'>Recomand ca acest post sa fie citit pe melodia urmatoare. Imi induce o stare de visare:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UyF7hcLLiT8&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/UyF7hcLLiT8&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nebunie in jurul meu, oameni adunati la carti, pentru ca nu pot avea calculatorul la mine in camera, ca cine stie ce fac. Da, mentalitate de parinti superprotectivi. N-am ce-i face. Si pe langa faptul ca nu pot gandi calumea, pentru ca striga, rad, vorbesc tare, se mai aiu si de mine ca ce scriu atat. In fine, altceva vroiam sa zic. Am citit recent blogul unui prieten, si mi-am adus aminte de mine. Nu, nu m-am pierdut, dar mi-am dat seama ca afisez in ultima vreme o fata "comerciala", sunt asa cum ar vrea lumea sa fiu, ma las dusa de val, parca plutesc printre zile. Am observat ca nu are rost sa fiu eu, pentru ca nimeni nu are timp sa ma asculte. Ce mult timp a trecut de cand am purtat o discutie cu adevarat interesanta, careia sa-i cauti sensuri unde nu exista, sa desparti firu in 16, etc. Trebuie sa imi gasesc timp sa ma gandesc si la mine, sa stau sa ma mai gandesc la diverse lucruri, cum faceam inainte. Dar asta nu am. Timp. Asta ne lipseste la toti. Timp sa facem ce ne place, fie ca dormim sau palavragim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da, am uitat sa fiu eu. Persoanele cu care puteam sa fiu eu nu sunt aici..se plimba. Si mi-e frica ca se vor departa si mai tare o data cu facultatea. De fapt sunt sigura. Si atunci fata mea superficiala va fi omniprezenta. Oare ma voi schimba si eu intr-o persoana comuna? Asa cum mai nou sunt toti. Sper ca nu, dar daca nu ma pliez pe societate, s-ar putea sa fiu respinsa si ocolota. Pentru ca EU ma enervez repede, urlu, spun verde in fata si ragai. Da, asta e. Sper sa pot gasi persoane adevatare si acolo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pe langa asta, ar mai fi cateva de zis. Nu am mai citit o carte buna de mult. Nimeni nu mai citeste azi. O carte care sa ma puna pe ganduri, sa intru in pielea personajului si sa traiesc o data cu el.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cred ca de la statul asta in casa imi pierd mintile. Sunt atatea lucruri care as vrea sa le fac..dar nu pot. Visez cu ochii deschisi, si ma gandesc la ce voi face cand... dar nu se va intampla, niciodata planurile nu se pot duce la bun sfarsit, pentru ca trebuie sa apara ceva care sa le schimbe cursul. Asta e viata, trebuie sa ma obisnuiesc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si ma enervez cand sunt luata la misto pentru parerile mele.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-4831822059481147850?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/4831822059481147850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=4831822059481147850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/4831822059481147850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/4831822059481147850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2009/08/recomand-ca-acest-post-sa-fie-citit-pe.html' title='Cateva ganduri'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-7940380111959975725</id><published>2008-09-27T00:21:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T00:26:08.326+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ultimii ani</title><content type='html'>In final ce conteaza?Nu va conta nici cum ai reusit, nici pe cine ai manipulat sau pe cine ai mintit. Rezultatul este important.Asta in cazul in care esti o persoana lipsita de orice fel de constiinta. Dar asta e  adevarul. Nu conteaza nimic la sfarsit. Nici cat de sus ai fost, nici cat de departe ai ajuns. Stai si te gandesti in urma, cat de departe ai fi fost daca nu ai fi renuntat, si simti fori pe sira spinarii. Poate daca ai fi continuat. Si acum toata lumea te acuza. Nici cum nu e bine. Dar ce sa-i faci? Incerci sa te acomodezi cu noua situatie, si sa ignori privirile insistente ale celor din jur. Nu stii de ce atata agitatie pentru un lucru &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;atat de marunt. Si totusi te simti pustiit, stors de toata energia, ca dupa o saptamana de munca neintrerupta. Te simti de parca o pauza de la tot ti-ar prinde bine, sa te detasezi complet de cei din jur, sa stai frumos in lumea ta. Dar binenteles ca nu e posibil. Toti au nevoie de tine. Daca nu de ajutor, atunci macar de ceva ce ai tu, sau doar de cuiva cui sa se planga. Si te-ai saturat sa te prefaci ca ii intelegi pe toti. Nici partea cand tu ii ignori nu mai functioneaza. S-au prins.Si totusi, nici macar unul nu e dispus sa asculte ce spui tu. Macar sa se se prefaca interesati.Dar se poarta mai rau ca la 7 ani.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Hai o data, ce tot astepti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astepti sa treaca acesti ani, sa ai viata in propriile maine, ca sa nu mai dai vina pe altii ca ti-o strica. Asa macar vei fi sigur cine este vinovatul. Si nici macar nu o sa-ti mai pese. Acum dai vina pe vecinu de la 2 sau pe femeia de servici, incercand sa te pacalesti cumva ca mai ai scapare, ca atunci cand vei fi "mare" totul se va schimba, va fi mai usor. Dar problema e ca te inseli. Cu cat trece mai mult timp, totul este tot mai complicat, mai complex, si apasa tot mai tare pe umerii tai. Daca acum nu ai doza de maturitate necesara pentru a trece anumite obstacole, mai incolo nu mai ai scuze. Dreptatea va fi subiectiva, si nu tot timpul de partea ta. Si judecatorii sunt oameni. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Daca nu vii, te iau de o aripa si te zvarlu in masina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si daca tot te zvarle, spune-i sa-ti arunce si valiza. Daca pleci acum sau mai tarziu ti-e totuna. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mintea ta se invart ultimele cuvinte ale tatalui tau inainte ca mama sa plece: "daca nu pleci te zvarlu in strada", si te gandesti serios sa pleci daca mi auzi vreodata ceva asemanator. Dar presat de timp si de sentimente, te urci in masina, caci inca cineva poate sa-ti comande ce sa faci. Si o data cu sunetul motorului ce se pierde pe strada pustie, te pierzi si tu din nou in ganduri.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-7940380111959975725?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/7940380111959975725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=7940380111959975725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/7940380111959975725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/7940380111959975725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2008/09/ultimii-ani.html' title='Ultimii ani'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-7657221173481497177</id><published>2008-09-09T20:48:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T21:08:35.799+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Praf de stele</title><content type='html'>O sclipire, doar atat&lt;br /&gt;Nu mai mult de o secunda&lt;br /&gt;Un fulger alb, ce a atins&lt;br /&gt;Ca un blestem, o stea.&lt;br /&gt;Cazuta pe Pamant,&lt;br /&gt;Sub forma omeneasca&lt;br /&gt;De zei a fost uitata&lt;br /&gt;Lasata jos sa planga&lt;br /&gt;Si sa suspine dupa&lt;br /&gt;Suratele-naltate&lt;br /&gt;Acum la loc de cinste&lt;br /&gt;Acolo langa zei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Multi ani de-atunci trecura&lt;br /&gt;Si din frumosul astru&lt;br /&gt;Ramase doar o umbra,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O ultima suflare...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caci amestecandu-se cu oameni&lt;br /&gt;Si-alaturi de ei traind,&lt;br /&gt;A fost distrusa-ncet&lt;br /&gt;De propria-i lumina&lt;br /&gt;Ce apasa mereu&lt;br /&gt;Din ce in ce mai tare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C-o ultima suflare...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spre zei ea se intoarce&lt;br /&gt;Implorand aievea&lt;br /&gt;Plangand ca nu mai poate&lt;br /&gt;Dar zeii n-auzira&lt;br /&gt;Si cu o ultima sclipire&lt;br /&gt;In praf ea se transforma&lt;br /&gt;Si vantul ce adie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C-o ultima suflare...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-7657221173481497177?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/7657221173481497177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=7657221173481497177' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/7657221173481497177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/7657221173481497177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2008/09/praf-de-stele.html' title='Praf de stele'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-6617811249799094760</id><published>2008-04-18T21:45:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T22:32:32.984+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Lumi paralele</title><content type='html'>Doua lumi se ciocnesc violent&lt;br /&gt;Ca apoi sa devina doar una&lt;br /&gt;Dar totusi departe si totusi absent&lt;br /&gt;Nu vor sa alunge furtuna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Copil balai cu ochii vii&lt;br /&gt;Tu ii iubesti la fel&lt;br /&gt;Doi sori, ce fac din noapte zi&lt;br /&gt;Doi sori ce stralucesc pe cer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iubindu-i pe-amandoi atat&lt;br /&gt;Cum nimeni nu mai stie&lt;br /&gt;Le-ai facut atata rau incat&lt;br /&gt;Ei nu mai vor sa-nvie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mereu o lupta intre ei,&lt;br /&gt;Dar oarba, nersotita&lt;br /&gt;Caci lupta pentru ochii cei&lt;br /&gt;Care cu dragoste-i alinta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Copile drag, nu plange iar,&lt;br /&gt;Tu nu ai nici o vina&lt;br /&gt;Iubesti prea mult ,si in zadar,&lt;br /&gt;Vrei prea multa lumina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caci nimic nu va putea trai&lt;br /&gt;Cu doi sori odata,&lt;br /&gt;Unul din ei tot va muri,&lt;br /&gt;Sau vor muri de-odata...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-6617811249799094760?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/6617811249799094760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=6617811249799094760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/6617811249799094760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/6617811249799094760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2008/04/lumi-paralele.html' title='Lumi paralele'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-934065583983224924</id><published>2008-03-05T20:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T17:25:17.516+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Furtuna</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R87kvtEGC4I/AAAAAAAAAHM/jeLPfBYndQ8/s1600-h/Fallen_Angle_by_hamex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R87kvtEGC4I/AAAAAAAAAHM/jeLPfBYndQ8/s400/Fallen_Angle_by_hamex.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174324530097032066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te vad&lt;br /&gt;Prin ochiul unui geam,&lt;br /&gt;Prin panza de paianjen ce vibreaza&lt;br /&gt;La cea mai mica adiere...&lt;br /&gt;Si esti fericit...dansezi,&lt;br /&gt;Te invarti, ametesti, cazi,&lt;br /&gt;Si te ridici...&lt;br /&gt;Iarba parca e mai verde,&lt;br /&gt;Atinsa de tine&lt;br /&gt;Soarele iti lumineaza chipul,&lt;br /&gt;Vantul ti-l mangaie,&lt;br /&gt;Si tu visezi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar de-o data cerul se intuneca&lt;br /&gt;Si stai cu privirea in pamant&lt;br /&gt;Parca astepti ceva...&lt;br /&gt;Fulgere nu contenesc sa-ti lumineze chipul&lt;br /&gt;Acum alb, si stralucitor...&lt;br /&gt;Vantul iti incurca pletele,&lt;br /&gt;Si hainele parca vor sa te sufoce.&lt;br /&gt;Se sfasie...&lt;br /&gt;In toata agitatia tu stai nemiscat,&lt;br /&gt;Impietrit, alb..&lt;br /&gt;Dar pe spatele tau, acum dezgolit,&lt;br /&gt;Doua firicele de sange apar,&lt;br /&gt;Ce curg, siroind, spre pamant.&lt;br /&gt;Iar in urma lor, pielea se despica,&lt;br /&gt;Si in agonie tu stai nemiscat si astepti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mijlocul furtunii, un fulger&lt;br /&gt;Mai aprig si orbitor&lt;br /&gt;Loveste,parca atras de sange ca un rechin&lt;br /&gt;Si cazi in genunchi, te prabusesti&lt;br /&gt;Si din spatele tau lovit,&lt;br /&gt;Apar pe nesimtite doua aripi&lt;br /&gt;Dar Negre ca abisul sunt,&lt;br /&gt;Lucesc in lumina furtunii...&lt;br /&gt;Alerg spre tine, mi-e frica..&lt;br /&gt;Te iau in brate si te sarut,&lt;br /&gt;Dar cu nepasare ma respingi,&lt;br /&gt;Si ma arunci la o parte.&lt;br /&gt;Apoi te ridici, si cu privirea spre cerul innorat&lt;br /&gt;Iti desfaci aripile, si te lasi in voia vantului,&lt;br /&gt;Te ridici incet, spre creatorul tau,&lt;br /&gt;Furtuna...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te privesc cum te departezi...&lt;br /&gt;Cu lacrimi in ochi, iti soptesc un ultim&lt;br /&gt;"te iubesc"&lt;br /&gt;Dar nu pot sa fiu suparata,&lt;br /&gt;Caci acolo, in mijlocul furtunii,&lt;br /&gt;Am vazut cum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S-a nascut un inger...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-934065583983224924?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/934065583983224924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=934065583983224924' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/934065583983224924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/934065583983224924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2008/03/angel.html' title='Furtuna'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R87kvtEGC4I/AAAAAAAAAHM/jeLPfBYndQ8/s72-c/Fallen_Angle_by_hamex.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-5860858440064642141</id><published>2008-01-25T14:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T23:52:10.079+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fata din vis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R6OUYdYZinI/AAAAAAAAAHE/ojY3Au76ykk/s1600-h/2ba6bee523b13d7f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R6OUYdYZinI/AAAAAAAAAHE/ojY3Au76ykk/s400/2ba6bee523b13d7f.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162132745821457010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Din negura gandirii, subtire&lt;br /&gt;O ata de lumina se desprinde,&lt;br /&gt;Creste putin, isi continua drumul&lt;br /&gt;Spre lumea de afara.&lt;br /&gt;Vrea sa se materializeze in arta,&lt;br /&gt;In fotografie ori desen.&lt;br /&gt;Se incolaceste pe rama unei zi,&lt;br /&gt;Prin crengile purpurii se inoada&lt;br /&gt;Se opreste, priveste, viseaza...&lt;br /&gt;In padurea deasa, cuprinsa de fiori,&lt;br /&gt;O lata idee serpuieste printre ramuri,&lt;br /&gt;Gadila frunzele timpului, impodobeste&lt;br /&gt;Pustiul neclintit. Vant.&lt;br /&gt;adiere calma, ce o poarta peste ani,&lt;br /&gt;Zburand spre sfarsit si spre-nceput,&lt;br /&gt;O rosie fasie, o fata...&lt;br /&gt;O privire senina, ochi de margean,&lt;br /&gt;Si pletele ce-i mangaie fata&lt;br /&gt;In zbor ridicata spre cer.&lt;br /&gt;Soarele ascuns in mijlocul padurii,&lt;br /&gt;Raze de parfum plutesc,&lt;br /&gt;Pe iarba moale doarme copila,&lt;br /&gt;Si paru-i in vis se transforma,&lt;br /&gt;Cu fiecare firicel, o noua idee,&lt;br /&gt;O noua lume se naste, apoi din nou&lt;br /&gt;Copila se trezeste, purtata de vant.&lt;br /&gt;Cu mainile intinse, imbratiseaza cerul,&lt;br /&gt;Gata de o noua aventura,&lt;br /&gt;Si fasia purpurie, visul etern&lt;br /&gt;O invaluie si o poarte prin padure&lt;br /&gt;Spre alte lumi...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-5860858440064642141?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/5860858440064642141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=5860858440064642141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5860858440064642141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5860858440064642141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2008/01/fata-din-vis.html' title='Fata din vis'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R6OUYdYZinI/AAAAAAAAAHE/ojY3Au76ykk/s72-c/2ba6bee523b13d7f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-5128550545748895334</id><published>2008-01-14T15:05:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T15:13:24.403+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Voi sta langa tine, promit!</title><content type='html'>Iubesc&lt;br /&gt;Dar ce conteaza? Cui ii pasa&lt;br /&gt;De ce simt eu?&lt;br /&gt;Durerea din coaste vesteste&lt;br /&gt;Ca a mai trecut o clipa...&lt;br /&gt;Si inca una, mereu&lt;br /&gt;Mereu ceasul bate, mereu timpul trece&lt;br /&gt;Captiva ca in cusca&lt;br /&gt;Ma simt. Si nimeni nu vede&lt;br /&gt;Suferinta ce ma apasa&lt;br /&gt;Ma striveste ca pe-un flutur&lt;br /&gt;Indiferent la frumusetea sa.&lt;br /&gt;Intre patru pereti, sentimente&lt;br /&gt;Salbatice dezlantuie vant&lt;br /&gt;Ce ma tranteste la pamant&lt;br /&gt;Ma zbat, dar el nu ma aude&lt;br /&gt;"Vreau sa mor, in chinuri de iad&lt;br /&gt;decat sa te vad indiferent, absent!"&lt;br /&gt;Urlu, din nou ma izbesc,&lt;br /&gt;violente, sentimente:"Dar te iubesc,&lt;br /&gt;si vreau sa mor, sa fiu langa tine!"&lt;br /&gt;Cuprind intre palmele reci&lt;br /&gt;Crucea de pe mormantul tau&lt;br /&gt;Si o sarut, de parc-ar fi vie.&lt;br /&gt;Suspin langa ea, dar lacrimi nu pot&lt;br /&gt;A varsa.&lt;br /&gt;Pamantul inghetat ma arde de tot&lt;br /&gt;Caci tu esti acolo, cu ochii deschisi&lt;br /&gt;Privesti in lemnul ce te-nvaluie&lt;br /&gt;Si stai nemiscat, si parca asculti&lt;br /&gt;Cum vantul surd goneste.&lt;br /&gt;E frig dar nu pot sa te las,&lt;br /&gt;Esti singur acolo, ti-e frica&lt;br /&gt;"Voi sta langa tine, promit!"&lt;br /&gt;Lin ma asez langa crucea ce arde&lt;br /&gt;In palmele mele semne de dor,&lt;br /&gt;Cu capul in jos, cu fruntea plecata,&lt;br /&gt;Astept...&lt;br /&gt;Sa mor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-5128550545748895334?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/5128550545748895334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=5128550545748895334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5128550545748895334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5128550545748895334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2008/01/voi-sta-langa-tine-promit.html' title='Voi sta langa tine, promit!'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-6330221102445359578</id><published>2008-01-11T23:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T23:47:41.202+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Inscription on a tomb stone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;"All the tears in the world are meant to come out of my eyes and down my cheeks, and drown me, because, after all, I am the sorrow holder, and every sorrow in the world has to come down my face for me to be alive. It's like food and water to others, only it hurts more... And now I end the story for you, traveler, so you can continue your journey, because mine ended just before it started. With a tear I bless thee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-6330221102445359578?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/6330221102445359578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=6330221102445359578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/6330221102445359578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/6330221102445359578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2008/01/inscription-on-tomb-stone.html' title='Inscription on a tomb stone'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-2030634554592046629</id><published>2007-12-10T14:57:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T15:00:29.231+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuvinte</title><content type='html'>De ce&lt;br /&gt;Nu mai pot vorbi?&lt;br /&gt;Cuvintele buzele nu le vor a parasi,&lt;br /&gt;Ma aflu captiva in fraze banale,&lt;br /&gt;In cuvinte si expresii stradale,&lt;br /&gt;Inapta de poezie, de scris,&lt;br /&gt;Litere aleatorii, creion imprecis&lt;br /&gt;Nu vor a asterne pe alba hartie&lt;br /&gt;Gandurile si ideile trecand in nestire&lt;br /&gt;Prin fata ochilor, prin vis.&lt;br /&gt;Pe podeaua rece, gandurile mele&lt;br /&gt;S-au lipit, si se lupta intre ele&lt;br /&gt;Le privesc absent,&lt;br /&gt;Incoerent,&lt;br /&gt;Cum mor incet, dispar,&lt;br /&gt;Si altele noi apar,&lt;br /&gt;Si foaia alba sta alaturi&lt;br /&gt;Poate, poate prinde franturi&lt;br /&gt;De ganduri.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-2030634554592046629?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/2030634554592046629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=2030634554592046629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/2030634554592046629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/2030634554592046629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/12/cuvinte.html' title='Cuvinte'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-6462940710523878478</id><published>2007-12-10T13:37:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T14:56:07.834+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Haos</title><content type='html'>Din haos si lumea si iubirea s-au nascut&lt;br /&gt;Si in haos se intorc, si se prefac in lut&lt;br /&gt;Amestecat cu sange otravit si cu durere,&lt;br /&gt;Cu tot ce este tainic, cu mistere.&lt;br /&gt;Rosu sangeriu picteaza acea bolta&lt;br /&gt;A idealurilor omenesti nascute din mandrie&lt;br /&gt;Ce dainuiesc, apoi se sting, cad in uitare&lt;br /&gt;Si genereaza un rau fierbinte de furie.&lt;br /&gt;In miticul Olimp se strang toti zeii&lt;br /&gt;Gandirii omenesti fara de trup,&lt;br /&gt;Se sfatuiesc, dar parca raman ca ateii,&lt;br /&gt;Fara de credinta, de noima sau de scop.&lt;br /&gt;Poate Nemesis, in a ei furie,&lt;br /&gt;Distruge to ce in fata-i vede&lt;br /&gt;Dar zeii tot nu pot decide&lt;br /&gt;Scopul vietii pe pamant.&lt;br /&gt;Omul - risipa de energie si praf,&lt;br /&gt;Creeaza numai ganduri negre si razboi&lt;br /&gt;Si iubirea moare, inainte de a fi rostita,&lt;br /&gt;Totul naste ura, moare pentru voi.&lt;br /&gt;Si intunericul nu iarta, nu uita,&lt;br /&gt;Timpul se opreste, visele aduna,&lt;br /&gt;Soarele in asfintit nu mai vrea s-apuna.&lt;br /&gt;Isi imprastie raze sangerii,&lt;br /&gt;Peste toata lumea&lt;br /&gt;In flacari piere totul,&lt;br /&gt;Ard intruna.&lt;br /&gt;Agonia nu se simte, clipa&lt;br /&gt;Trece, sau ramane pe vesnicie,&lt;br /&gt;Nemiscata, suspendata,&lt;br /&gt;De sus ea priveste,&lt;br /&gt;Atarnata ca de stele,&lt;br /&gt;Dar neajungand la el,&lt;br /&gt;Viseaza, dar atat.&lt;br /&gt;Nu indrazneste mai mult,&lt;br /&gt;Priveste cum focul mistuie lumea&lt;br /&gt;Creata cu atata grija&lt;br /&gt;Cladita cu o intentie buna,&lt;br /&gt;Dar se face scrum in propria-i simtire&lt;br /&gt;Ura, razboiul, nimicind-o in nestire...&lt;br /&gt;Oare va renastea ea, ca un Phoenix&lt;br /&gt;Din cenusa?&lt;br /&gt;Sau pana si cenusa este otravita?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poate...&lt;br /&gt;Renaste, poate iubirea razbeste,&lt;br /&gt;Domina totul, reface o stea&lt;br /&gt;Dar fragila, moare din nou,&lt;br /&gt;La nesfarsit.&lt;br /&gt;Ciclul acesta, renascand si murind,&lt;br /&gt;Slabeste de fiecare data&lt;br /&gt;O iubire infima, prea slaba&lt;br /&gt;Dar renaste mereu, sperand,&lt;br /&gt;La o lume perfecta visand.&lt;br /&gt;Doar vise, la fel ca si clipa&lt;br /&gt;Ce sta suspendata in acest moment final&lt;br /&gt;Un ultim moment de triumf al fricii&lt;br /&gt;Dupa care este doar tacere.&lt;br /&gt;Clipa prelungita in etern,&lt;br /&gt;Ce nu cunoaste moarte,&lt;br /&gt;Ce nu cunoaste...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iubire si ura, un singur pas&lt;br /&gt;Despartindu-le in lume,&lt;br /&gt;Contopindu-le-n visare,&lt;br /&gt;Prea aproape de omul&lt;br /&gt;Ce nu stie a deosebi&lt;br /&gt;Prieten de dusman,&lt;br /&gt;Iubindu-l si urandu-l deopotriva.&lt;br /&gt;Clipa suspendata in etern,&lt;br /&gt;Te intrebi ce a dus la haos?&lt;br /&gt;Aceasta granita prea subtire,&lt;br /&gt;Acest pas mic, usor de confundat&lt;br /&gt;De muritori, dar si de zei,&lt;br /&gt;Pentru care muzica este si&lt;br /&gt;Iubire dar si tunet.&lt;br /&gt;Si atunci te mai intrebi&lt;br /&gt;Draga clipa, de ce...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nici poeti nici filozofi&lt;br /&gt;Nu vorbesc in scrierile lor&lt;br /&gt;De haos. Dar nu de cel lumesc,&lt;br /&gt;Ci de cel ceresc, ascuns in vise,&lt;br /&gt;In ganduri, in suflete, trairi&lt;br /&gt;Sau in iubiri.&lt;br /&gt;Neinteles de multi, el este ocolit,&lt;br /&gt;Nebagat in seama, rugunit.&lt;br /&gt;Acesta la randul lui se dezvolta,&lt;br /&gt;Creste, mana in mana cu moartea.&lt;br /&gt;Isi sorb reciproc voluptatea, traiesc&lt;br /&gt;Se contopesc,&lt;br /&gt;Palpita, sunt vii.&lt;br /&gt;Dar neinsemnate, ele rapesc omului&lt;br /&gt;Viata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astfel draga clipa, eternitatea&lt;br /&gt;La picioarele tale se intinde,&lt;br /&gt;O eternitate, suspendata ca si tine,&lt;br /&gt;In haos...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-6462940710523878478?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/6462940710523878478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=6462940710523878478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/6462940710523878478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/6462940710523878478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/12/haos.html' title='Haos'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-5720480947897878772</id><published>2007-12-10T13:33:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T13:37:04.865+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Prima ninsoare</title><content type='html'>Prima ninsoare, fulgue usor&lt;br /&gt;Fum se ridica pe cer, incolor&lt;br /&gt;Copacii incarcati cu frunzele lor&lt;br /&gt;Stau nemiscati in calmul decor&lt;br /&gt;Lumina ascunsa de nori&lt;br /&gt;Si albul acestei ninsori&lt;br /&gt;Acopera totul, incet cazand,&lt;br /&gt;De sus.&lt;br /&gt;Dar noaptea se lasa&lt;br /&gt;Mandra craiasa&lt;br /&gt;Cu valul ei intunecat&lt;br /&gt;Iar frigul cel de mult lasat&lt;br /&gt;Ingheata totul,&lt;br /&gt;Timpul este-nmarmurit,&lt;br /&gt;Totul a intepenit,&lt;br /&gt;Clipele se prelungesc&lt;br /&gt;La nesfarsit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-5720480947897878772?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/5720480947897878772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=5720480947897878772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5720480947897878772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5720480947897878772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/12/prima-ninsoare.html' title='Prima ninsoare'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-7233152025047525083</id><published>2007-12-10T13:32:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T13:33:56.296+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Chin...</title><content type='html'>Linii haotice trasez obsedant&lt;br /&gt;In stanga, in dreapta, constant&lt;br /&gt;Forme se contureaza&lt;br /&gt;Nervii cedeaza&lt;br /&gt;Albul se murdareste&lt;br /&gt;Creierul nu mai gandeste&lt;br /&gt;Linii negre, groase&lt;br /&gt;Incep sa se lase&lt;br /&gt;Sa nu se mai distinga&lt;br /&gt;Obiectul sa se stinga&lt;br /&gt;Im marea de linii groase...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-7233152025047525083?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/7233152025047525083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=7233152025047525083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/7233152025047525083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/7233152025047525083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/12/chin.html' title='Chin...'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-5673448565626403452</id><published>2007-11-07T16:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T16:39:37.883+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Noapte</title><content type='html'>Ploua din nou, cu stropi mari&lt;br /&gt;Si frunzele cad din copaci solitari&lt;br /&gt;Totul e ud, si noaptea e deasa&lt;br /&gt;Si nici un felinar nu este aprins.&lt;br /&gt;Ma plimb prin ploaie, si prin negru&lt;br /&gt;Fara sa simt apa ce ma patrunde&lt;br /&gt;Si iese cu stropi de manie...&lt;br /&gt;Picaturi ce se scurg de pe parul meu ud&lt;br /&gt;Aluneca lin si cad pe asfaltul mut&lt;br /&gt;O silueta se contureaza printre stropii stravezii&lt;br /&gt;Dar e neagra, nu stiu cine ar putea ea fi.&lt;br /&gt;O voce stinsa ma striga pe nume&lt;br /&gt;O urmez in tacere, orbeste mergand.&lt;br /&gt;Ea se topeste in ploaie, brusc disparand.&lt;br /&gt;Ratacind printre blocuri, si printre ganduri,&lt;br /&gt;Mergand peste cuvinte si printre randuri,&lt;br /&gt;Ma ratacesc in amintiri si in timp.&lt;br /&gt;O lumina se vede in zare, venind,&lt;br /&gt;Poate un ajutor din lumea reala,&lt;br /&gt;Un cal alb, un gand foarte slab.&lt;br /&gt;Mergand spre lumina, ea ma inunda,&lt;br /&gt;Ma invaluie si in minte-mi patrunde.&lt;br /&gt;Dar vraja angelica se rupe brusc&lt;br /&gt;La impactul cu lumina, dur si violent,&lt;br /&gt;Ce ma aduce la realitate, brusc si constient,&lt;br /&gt;Gandurile mele, in dungi rosii si mari,&lt;br /&gt;Se spulbera lovindu-se de peretii tari&lt;br /&gt;Ai capului meu pe asfalt spulberat,&lt;br /&gt;Ai corpului meu imprastiat.&lt;br /&gt;Siluete negre, tot mai multe se aduna,&lt;br /&gt;O consecinta a unei existente prea comune,&lt;br /&gt;Eu ii vad miscandu-se, dar nu simt&lt;br /&gt;Ploaia rece ce cade siroind&lt;br /&gt;Pe asfaltul inrosit, de sub mine,&lt;br /&gt;Pe silueta inconstienta de sine,&lt;br /&gt;Ce sta nemiscata pe sosea.&lt;br /&gt;Lumina...acea iluzie, vraja marii,&lt;br /&gt;Ce m-a adus in pragul disperarii,&lt;br /&gt;Persista si dupa moartea mea,&lt;br /&gt;Si va continua si dupa moartea ta&lt;br /&gt;Sa existe,&lt;br /&gt;Neconditionat...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-5673448565626403452?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/5673448565626403452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=5673448565626403452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5673448565626403452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5673448565626403452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/11/noapte.html' title='Noapte'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-8677800258890274379</id><published>2007-11-07T15:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T23:18:51.826+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Scrisoarea unei sinucigase</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Aceasta este scrisoarea unei sinucigase catre sine. Frumusetea invelisului aproape ca ascunde suferinta de dedesubt. Dar ea si-a scris viata pe scurt, iar pesimismul si negativismul este maxim. Nehotararea ei, si frica totodata ce sunt premergatoare unui astfel de eveniment nu pot fi ascunse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;" Draga mea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;  Privesc fugar oglinda, si un fior ma strabate. Nu pot suporta persoana care ma priveste inapoi. Cu parul avand o nuanta albastruie, ochi verzi, si nasul putin prea mare pentru chip, buzele moi, si fata ovala, spatele incovoiat, silueta este aplecata asupra unui birou, avand un pix in mana, mazgalind ceva intr-un caiet. Ma gandesc la aceasta imagine ca la un tablou, dar imi dau seama poate prea repede ca de fapt ma uit la mine. Si nu pot spune ca imi place ce vad. Nici macar daca oglinda nu ar deforma imaginea. Vad o persoana ce nu are incredere in fortele proprii, fiindu-i frica de lumea exterioara, o persoana cu vise prea mari, ce isi creaza iluzii, apoi suferind pentru neimplinirea lor, si pentru povestile ce le infiripa, intotdeauna vazand partea goala a paharului, suparandu-se pentru evenimentele ce nu au avut inca loc. Ii este frica sa mai incerce ceva, sa mai spere. In ochii ei mi se desfasoara o intreaga poveste. Povestea unui om ce respinge norocul si fericirea, crezand ca aceste doua lucruri o vor distruge, o vor face sa decada. Acum pot vedea toate lacrimile ce i-au patat obrazul, toate cuvintele ce i-au parasit buzele, si toate imaginile ce i-au trecut prin fata ochilor. Ridic o mana si ating sticla rece, parca incercand o mangaiere. Dar realizez ca nu are rost. Nimic nu mai are rost, si stiu asta. Am invatat sa tac, sa nu ripostez, sa tin totul in mine, pentru ca este mai bine asa. Singurul mod prin care pot exprima ce simt este scrisul, dar nici acela nu satisface pe deplin asteptarile mele. Nu pot prinde toate gandurile fugare si asterne pe hartie toate sentimentele ce brazdeaza chipul si inima...caci totul lasa urme.&lt;br /&gt;    In sticla dreptunghiulara nu pot incadra tot trecutul meu. Dar stiu ce crede lumea despre mine. Nu-mi pasa. Lumea incepe a se destrama, si totul se prabuseste. Visele cocotate pe stalpi din vata, soarele delicat din lacrimi, padurile de ganduri, cu realitati razlete ce hoinaresc prin ele, cu rauri de lumina si ploi de intuneric. Nimic nu ma poate face sa ma simt in siguranta, sa ma simt eu. Atat de multe schimbari au avut loc in exterior, in scutul protector al acestei lumi, incat ea insesi a inceput sa se clatine. Ea, care era cea mai solida creatie a mintii si a sufletului. Dar mai exista oare acest suflet? Nu este acum risipit in sutele de locuri vizitate, pe care creierul nu si le mai aminteste, bucatele ascunse pe cine stie unde? Goliciunea nu este vizibila...&lt;br /&gt;    Astazi m-am simtit mai nesigura decat am facut-o vreodata. Totul mi s-a parut ca se prabuseste, lacrimile mi s-au oprit in gat si creierul a refuzat sa mai functioneze. Pentru o fractiune de secunda am avut impresia unei caderi infinite. Nu mai era nimic de ce sa ma pot agata pentru a opri aceasta cadere. Totul parea fara speranta si departe.&lt;br /&gt;    Dar acum este din nou liniste. Poate prin aceste randuri au iesit la iveaza acele ascunse ganduri ce ma bantuie. Poate au plecat. Dar cu siguranta se vor intoarce, pentru a colinda din nou acele vise zdrobite si ganduri nerostite.&lt;br /&gt;    Este foarte tarziu, dar somnul nu pare sa se instaleze. Alte vise. Imi pare rau ca trebuie sa astept pana maine pentru a-mi pune in aplicare planul...Nu mai pot vedea lumina salvatoare, doar intuneric. Nu stiu daca am nevoie de certitudini, si oricum este prea tarziu....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                  Adio...."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-8677800258890274379?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/8677800258890274379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=8677800258890274379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/8677800258890274379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/8677800258890274379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/11/scrisoarea-unei-sinucigase.html' title='Scrisoarea unei sinucigase'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-5042352505392073412</id><published>2007-10-26T13:26:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T13:40:32.641+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Nu...</title><content type='html'>{Pentru un prieten bun...}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninsoare timpurie, frig amar&lt;br /&gt;Si zile prea scurte, gand solitar.&lt;br /&gt;Frunzele cad, amar pe pamant&lt;br /&gt;Si iarna iar vine, din nou suierand,&lt;br /&gt;Cu frig amar si ger alb.&lt;br /&gt;Cu buze reci, cu parul dalb.&lt;br /&gt;Adio, dar nu vreau sa pleci,&lt;br /&gt;Maine tot aici sa petreci,&lt;br /&gt;Sa nu pleci, te rog mai stai&lt;br /&gt;Pana cand un fulg ai sa ai&lt;br /&gt;In palma ta, sa nu se topeasca,&lt;br /&gt;Sa-l pastrezi, sa nu se ofileasca.&lt;br /&gt;Vant dezlantuit din nori,&lt;br /&gt;E vremea perfecta sa mori.&lt;br /&gt;Dar nu acum,&lt;br /&gt;La inceput de drum,&lt;br /&gt;Caci un sfarsit nu e mai mult&lt;br /&gt;Decat un inceput.&lt;br /&gt;Nu te supara, nu dispera,&lt;br /&gt;Totul va fi in favoarea ta,&lt;br /&gt;Trebuie sa speri, si sa crezi,&lt;br /&gt;Va fi mai bine, ai sa vezi.&lt;br /&gt;Si te rog nu ma uita,&lt;br /&gt;Sub stratul gros de nea,&lt;br /&gt;In apropiata iarna grea,&lt;br /&gt;Nu ma uita...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-5042352505392073412?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/5042352505392073412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=5042352505392073412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5042352505392073412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5042352505392073412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/10/nu.html' title='Nu...'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-4626894892508985057</id><published>2007-10-26T13:19:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T17:28:52.855+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Rosu vibrant</title><content type='html'>Rosul vibrant inunda o vena&lt;br /&gt;Doar ca sa iasa, la fel ca o trena,&lt;br /&gt;Pe buzele fierbinti,&lt;br /&gt;Pe mainile cuminti&lt;br /&gt;Ce stau nemiscate pe podea,&lt;br /&gt;La fel ca si Ea.&lt;br /&gt;Pielea delicata,&lt;br /&gt;Alba, mult prea mata,&lt;br /&gt;In contact cu gresia ciobita,&lt;br /&gt;Plina de rosul vibrant ce palpita&lt;br /&gt;Inca de viata.&lt;br /&gt;Trandafirul primit,&lt;br /&gt;Acum ofilit,&lt;br /&gt;Sta martor la acest tablou,&lt;br /&gt;Acest neclintit mormant, ce pare nou,&lt;br /&gt;Pentru un suflet mult prea obosit,&lt;br /&gt;Si la fel ca trandafirul, ofilit.&lt;br /&gt;Firicel de rosu vibrant&lt;br /&gt;Ce te scurgi elegant&lt;br /&gt;Pe brate delicate,&lt;br /&gt;Pe fasii mult prea late&lt;br /&gt;De rochie de bal,&lt;br /&gt;Cusuta cu voal,&lt;br /&gt;Acum inrosita de plans,&lt;br /&gt;Plans de rosu aprins.&lt;br /&gt;Scurgandu-se si ultimul strop&lt;br /&gt;De rosu vibrant de pe corp,&lt;br /&gt;Firicel ca de ata,&lt;br /&gt;Desprinzandu-se de viata....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-4626894892508985057?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/4626894892508985057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=4626894892508985057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/4626894892508985057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/4626894892508985057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/10/rosu-vibrant.html' title='Rosu vibrant'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-6973756583661427817</id><published>2007-10-26T13:08:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T13:19:33.446+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Exterior</title><content type='html'>Superficiali, vedeti doar in exterior,&lt;br /&gt;Si astfel totul e acoperit de-un nor&lt;br /&gt;De cenusa deasa&lt;br /&gt;Ce ustura in incercarea stearsa&lt;br /&gt;De a vedea dupa el.&lt;br /&gt;Frumusetea este doar un pretext&lt;br /&gt;In incercarea de a fi perfect.&lt;br /&gt;Perfect mutilat de exterior,&lt;br /&gt;Dar negru si gol in interior.&lt;br /&gt;Un zambet larg si ochi albastrii&lt;br /&gt;Ce par a fi rupti din astrii,&lt;br /&gt;Ascund o profunda chinuiala&lt;br /&gt;Si o vaga banuiala&lt;br /&gt;De ce trebuie sa existe, dar nicicand&lt;br /&gt;Nu va avea un loc in al multimii gand,&lt;br /&gt;Multimea monotona, omogena, identica&lt;br /&gt;Ce sustine frumusetea patetica,&lt;br /&gt;Prea perfecta pentru a fi atunsa,&lt;br /&gt;Prea puternica pentru a putea fi stinsa,&lt;br /&gt;Mult prea idolatrizata si mult prea cuprinsa&lt;br /&gt;De prejudecati si sentimente obscure&lt;br /&gt;Ce transforma frumosul in urat&lt;br /&gt;Cauza clara,dar nevazuta, atat&lt;br /&gt;De sustinatori cat si de cei ce vor&lt;br /&gt;Frumusetea excesiva afara din viata lor.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt orbi, dar tot sustin&lt;br /&gt;Ceea ce este pe putin&lt;br /&gt;Un vis,&lt;br /&gt;O iluzie...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-6973756583661427817?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/6973756583661427817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=6973756583661427817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/6973756583661427817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/6973756583661427817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/10/exterior.html' title='Exterior'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-6444446881827056108</id><published>2007-10-26T12:59:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T13:07:58.827+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Papusi</title><content type='html'>Desenez&lt;br /&gt;Linii haotice, curbe si drepte,&lt;br /&gt;Fara sens, ele se misca in soapte,&lt;br /&gt;Descriind un obiect, o fiinta,&lt;br /&gt;O idee, poate o stiinta.&lt;br /&gt;Corpuri fara fiinta,&lt;br /&gt;Atarnand ca papusa fara sfori,&lt;br /&gt;Suferind in tacere, de multe ori&lt;br /&gt;Neclintite.&lt;br /&gt;Ele sunt idealul, sunt considerate model,&lt;br /&gt;Pentru o tara lipsita de tel&lt;br /&gt;Pentru popor lipsit de vointa.&lt;br /&gt;In noapte se termina tot,&lt;br /&gt;Disparand o data cu lumina&lt;br /&gt;Probleme ce pot, sau nu pot&lt;br /&gt;Sa provoace, la fel ca morfina,&lt;br /&gt;Dependenta; telul omului prost&lt;br /&gt;Supus orbeste, lucrand fara rost,&lt;br /&gt;Controlat de altii, ce stiu a purta,&lt;br /&gt;Juca si controla&lt;br /&gt;Sforle omului prost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-6444446881827056108?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/6444446881827056108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=6444446881827056108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/6444446881827056108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/6444446881827056108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/10/papusi.html' title='Papusi'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-5805348147784957018</id><published>2007-10-21T15:59:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T15:59:43.501+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Zbor</title><content type='html'>Creionul rosu din mana mea&lt;br /&gt;Si golul din privirea ta&lt;br /&gt;Ma fac sa imi doresc ceva&lt;br /&gt;Un lucru ce nu poate fi atins&lt;br /&gt;O iubire, un foc nestins&lt;br /&gt;O stea si un infinit cuprins&lt;br /&gt;In palma mea inchisa&lt;br /&gt;Strans.&lt;br /&gt;Ascult Luna Amara si stau&lt;br /&gt;Si ma gandesc la ce vreau&lt;br /&gt;La lumi straine si la nori&lt;br /&gt;La alte vieti ce-mi dau fiori&lt;br /&gt;Din nou.&lt;br /&gt;Si desi nu pot pleca acum&lt;br /&gt;Sper ca in timp voi gasi un drum&lt;br /&gt;Ce ma va duce undeva&lt;br /&gt;Unde voi putea evada&lt;br /&gt;Unde voi putea zbura,&lt;br /&gt;Nimeni nu ma va mai vedea&lt;br /&gt;Nimanui nu-i va mai pasa&lt;br /&gt;Ma voi transforma&lt;br /&gt;In fluture.&lt;br /&gt;Si astfel voi pleca&lt;br /&gt;Spre alte lumi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-5805348147784957018?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/5805348147784957018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=5805348147784957018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5805348147784957018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/5805348147784957018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/10/zbor.html' title='Zbor'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178334737424943286.post-3672597721077796345</id><published>2007-10-21T15:57:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T15:58:51.366+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='delir cadere zbor emptiness'/><title type='text'>Delir</title><content type='html'>E intuneric iar si e tarziu&lt;br /&gt;Am uitat sa visez si e foarte pustiu&lt;br /&gt;Acolo&lt;br /&gt;In mintea mea.&lt;br /&gt;Lumina difuza de afara&lt;br /&gt;Ma irita si ma sacaie iara&lt;br /&gt;Si chiar si copacul imi pare pustiu&lt;br /&gt;Si totul e negru si iara nu stiu&lt;br /&gt;De ce.&lt;br /&gt;Depresii si lacrimi&lt;br /&gt;Intuneric,&lt;br /&gt;Coplesitor e sentimentul himeric&lt;br /&gt;Sau poate e doar o idee&lt;br /&gt;Gasita o data pe-o alee&lt;br /&gt;Un gand imi trece prin minte&lt;br /&gt;Lipsit de un scop sau de tinte,&lt;br /&gt;Un rosu vibrant ma inunda&lt;br /&gt;Un negru orbitor ma sugruma&lt;br /&gt;Dar e frumos sa mori&lt;br /&gt;Sa se sfarseacsa in zori&lt;br /&gt;Si sa te trezesti in nori&lt;br /&gt;Sus. Departe.&lt;br /&gt;Plutind la nesfarsit&lt;br /&gt;Pe cerul pustiit&lt;br /&gt;Un soare cald, albastru&lt;br /&gt;Un singur nor sihastru&lt;br /&gt;Un gust amar, tacere&lt;br /&gt;Si apoi brusc cadere&lt;br /&gt;Si nici nu-ti imaginezi cata durere.&lt;br /&gt;Fiecare centimetru&lt;br /&gt;Doare.&lt;br /&gt;Ma zvarcolesc, incerc sa scap&lt;br /&gt;Dar sunt prinsa in propriul meu cap&lt;br /&gt;Plin de fobii si frici.&lt;br /&gt;Evadez.&lt;br /&gt;Ziua e scurta si iar e tarziu&lt;br /&gt;Iarasi e noapte si eu iarasi scriu&lt;br /&gt;Cuvinte fara noima&lt;br /&gt;Goale...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/178334737424943286-3672597721077796345?l=clau-n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/feeds/3672597721077796345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=178334737424943286&amp;postID=3672597721077796345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/3672597721077796345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/178334737424943286/posts/default/3672597721077796345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clau-n.blogspot.com/2007/10/delir.html' title='Delir'/><author><name>Clau N.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15109837938332536978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KK7mYkE-I_Q/R10mY_-0jNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3XO9hAw2EGc/S220/Picture+154.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
