<?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-5287852725337949692</id><updated>2012-02-16T16:33:40.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Buburuza</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>122</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-601913445676719677</id><published>2012-02-03T04:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T04:16:56.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cine mi-a facut ziua frumoasa</title><content type='html'>Azi am vrut sa simt primavara in nari si m-am dat cu parfumul floral de la ultimul meu iubit.&lt;br /&gt;Azi ma vrut sa ma simt imbratisata si m-am infasurat in salul de la ultimul meu admirator.&lt;br /&gt;E frumos...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-601913445676719677?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/601913445676719677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=601913445676719677&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/601913445676719677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/601913445676719677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/11/cine-mi-facut-ziua-frumoasa.html' title='Cine mi-a facut ziua frumoasa'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-1213633283205219296</id><published>2012-01-27T13:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T13:46:42.929-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ultima noapte din patru ani si o luna</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0ADteXjR5-k/TyMVS5PqhYI/AAAAAAAAAPw/79MHFm-nGhs/s1600/15032011307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0ADteXjR5-k/TyMVS5PqhYI/AAAAAAAAAPw/79MHFm-nGhs/s320/15032011307.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Patru ani si o luna - atat am stat in garsoniera mea din Lacul Tei. Cat o facultate (facuta pre vremea mea).&amp;nbsp; A fost terenul meu de lupta (cu gandaci gigantici si molii) dar si refugiul meu, unde m-am retras sa imi ling ranile dupa o infrangere dupa vreun razboi amoros. Este casa in care am adunat toate iubirile si casa unde mi-am trait iubirea cea mare cu care ma mut la noul cuib. Am venit aici fiind deja dezamagita de relatia mea record de 3,5 ani; plec de aici cu o noua relatie de durata si pentru prima data cu o noua speranta. Ce a fost intre cele doua? Cautari, false gasiri si iar cautari. Acesti pereti m-au vazut sperand, m-au vazut iubind, m-au vazut distrusa dupa o noua esuare si iar m-au vazut sperand. Aici am baut nenumarate ceaiuri (singura sau cu cineva), am impartit cu prietenii povesti amuzante sau triste, m-am uitat la filme varsand lacrirmi de tristete sau de ras, am creat, am scris, am trait. Este casa care m-a facut sa ma simt acasa, iar pentru cei care mi-au pasit pragul i-a facut sa se simta bineveniti. Nu a fost niciodata moderna, dar a fost mereu calda. Am imbracat-o treptat, mai intai cu margele, apoi cu curele si evantaie, apoi cu tablouri si poezii. Iar aceste zile am dezbracat-o la loc sa o las asa cum am gasit-o: impersonala, mobilata clasic. Totusi, chiar si acum, cand peretii sunt din nou goi, e in continuare primitoare - niciodata nu am stiut ce o face sa fie asa, dar as vrea sa ii iau caldura cu mine.&lt;br /&gt;E ultima noapte pe care o petrec in aceasta casuta. Am intrat aici cu un calculator si doua valize, ies de aici cu 20 de cutii, 6 pungi, 2 valize, o masina de spalat, un mini televizor, un birou si o viata noua in fata. O viata traita la casa mea de-adevaratelea. De acum nu mai am de ce sa imi fie frica sa visez la idei nastrusnice de amenajate a interiorului, la flori la geam sau la pereti falsi cu sticle colorate incadrate in el, astfel incat lumina ce trece prin acestea sa coloreze camera cu nenumarati iepurasi curcubeici. Nu voi mai evita raioanele de electrocasnice sau de decor din magazine, voi rasfoi cu alti ochi revistele de amenajari si o sa visez din nou, dar de aceasta data aplicat la ceva real si al meu. Ramai cu bine, loc primitor, iti multumesc ca mi-ai alinat dorurile si mi-ai ascultat suspinele la fel de mult ca si bucuriile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bine te-am gasit, casa noua! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-1213633283205219296?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/1213633283205219296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=1213633283205219296&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1213633283205219296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1213633283205219296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2012/01/ultima-noapte-din-patru-ani-si-o-luna.html' title='Ultima noapte din patru ani si o luna'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0ADteXjR5-k/TyMVS5PqhYI/AAAAAAAAAPw/79MHFm-nGhs/s72-c/15032011307.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-1534945168184923243</id><published>2011-12-07T05:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T05:19:30.958-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce am aflat ce am uitat</title><content type='html'>cat traim invatatam. Stiu, am zis o platitudine, aproape ca iarna nu-i ca vara, dar uneori iti dai seama de profundul adevar ascuns in aceste expresii uzate. Ce-am invatat in acest an? Multe, mai degraba as spune ca am intarit niste informatii, prin repetitie. Am invatat ca fericirea de pe facebook nu e la fel cu cea reala. Una prezinti publicului alta zace in tine. Am invatat ca acolo unde le e bine multora nu e ob,ligatoriu sa iti fie bine tie. Am invatat ca daca lumea zice ca le e bine undeva nu inseamna ca intr-adevar le este. Am invatat.&lt;br /&gt;Imi ramane sa invat sa ma ascult sa inteleg ce simt si sa iau deciziile dupa ce simt eu si nu dupa ce spun altii.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-1534945168184923243?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/1534945168184923243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=1534945168184923243&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1534945168184923243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1534945168184923243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2011/12/ce-am-aflat-ce-am-uitat.html' title='Ce am aflat ce am uitat'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6591011732043985286</id><published>2011-11-04T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T02:29:07.452-08:00</updated><title type='text'>5 ani! Blogul meu rezista!</title><content type='html'>A inceput intr-o joaca. Mai mult din dorinta de a da o replica si a devenit locul in care ma ascund, locul de intalnire cu gandurile mele cele mai sincere, pe care poate nu am curajul sa le spun, locul in care toate marile iubiri sunt adunate laolalta. Aici sunt toate declaratiile de dragoste si toate despartirile, toate sperantele si toate dezamagirile, toate tristetile si mai putin bucuriile. Aici e o buna parte a sufletului meu asezat frumos pe tava ornat delicat in cuvinte. Aici sunt eu, asa cum ma las rareori vazuta de cei care ma cunosc dar nu ma stiu. Este probabil locul caruia i-am fost cea mai fidela, pentru ca dureaza mai mult decat orice experienta profesionala si mult mai mult decat orice relatie de iubire, e aproape ca o prietenie, nu ma judeca, dar, ce pacat, nici nu imi da sfaturi, poate doar imi pune ordine in ganduri, lasandu-ma sa atribui cuvinte sentimentelor, fricilor, incantarilor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6591011732043985286?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6591011732043985286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6591011732043985286&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6591011732043985286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6591011732043985286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2011/11/5-ani-blogul-meu-rezista.html' title='5 ani! Blogul meu rezista!'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-97075230420032879</id><published>2011-11-04T08:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T08:53:21.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Doare si cand iubesti. Doare nesiguranta ce la celalalt capat al legaturii intre voi inima nu bate la fel, doare sa vrei parca mai mult decat celalalt, altfel decat celalalt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-97075230420032879?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/97075230420032879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=97075230420032879&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/97075230420032879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/97075230420032879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2011/11/doare-si-cand-iubesti.html' title=''/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-5194067900927320504</id><published>2011-10-27T13:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T13:44:50.798-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cand decizi ce nu vrei sa faci, apare oportunitatea vietii care presupune sa nu faci ce ai decis</title><content type='html'>Sa ma explic, pe cat de coerent pot. Dupa multe experiente nefericite intelegi ca activitatea x practicata in mediul y nu ti se mai potriveste, nu te mai entuziasmeaza, ba chiar iti provoaca balonari si indigestie. Ai pus toate experientele intr-ul cufar, le-ai aranjat in ordine si ai incuiat cufarul cu clasificarea ”capitol inchis, a nu se mai deschide vreodata”. Si sta inchis... sta... sta. Si atunci cand ajungi sa te bucuri ca ai reusit sa pricepi macar o data in viata ce vrei, fara sa te lasi influentat de ce cred altii ca vrei.... PADAAAAAA!!! Primesti un telefon la ceas de seara. Cu propunerea sexy de a redeschide cufarul. Ce faci? Propunerea e un vis al tau de acum cativa ani si e prezentat ca un Keanu Reeves cand face privirea aia de barbat care te intelege fara sa deschizi gura (sau Brad Pitt sau, oricum, cine si de cine ii place, aici puteti completa si singure, am sa las si niste spatiu liber pentru completare).........................&lt;br /&gt;Deci, CE FACI?&lt;br /&gt;Lasi cufarul inchis si nu deranjezi fantomele sau stergi praful, il deschizi si mai dai o sansa si iti mai spui, cum ti-ai mai spus de multe ori, ca poate de data asta va fi altfel? Voi ce ati face? Renuntati la Keanu Reeves?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-5194067900927320504?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/5194067900927320504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=5194067900927320504&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5194067900927320504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5194067900927320504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2011/10/cand-decizi-ce-nu-vrei-sa-faci-apare.html' title='Cand decizi ce nu vrei sa faci, apare oportunitatea vietii care presupune sa nu faci ce ai decis'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-1322430090199068349</id><published>2011-09-06T05:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T02:07:29.969-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>Ea e o floare care de vreme rea a refuzat sa isi mai desfaca petalele.&lt;br /&gt;Asa boboc cum e, e frumoasa si lumea habar nu are ca de fapt nici macar nu a inflorit.&lt;br /&gt;Iar ea, floarea, a si uitat care ii este chipul adevarat deschis spre caldura soarelui spre alinturile vremii. Iubind prinde curaj sa isi dezmorteasca petala cu petala si poate chiar sa redevina floarea care a uitat ca poate fi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-1322430090199068349?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/1322430090199068349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=1322430090199068349&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1322430090199068349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1322430090199068349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2011/09/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2340927193206273547</id><published>2011-06-16T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T16:47:47.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>in meniu, cantece de dragoste</title><content type='html'>Dragostea are definitii infinite si ramane totusi cel mai indefinit sentiment, prea complex sa isi strecoare amploarea in cuvinte, oricat de mestesugite ar fi acestea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dragostea pentru mine a avut valente nenumarate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fost mai intai o poveste platonica, ce imi facea inima sa bata si sa revin la gangureala, in diminetile cand mergeam spre scoala si ma intalneam pe drum cu el.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apoi a devenit o speranta, o inspiratie, un loc in care sa evadez, eu si imaginatia mea, cum ar fi sa fie... in timp ce el is vedea linistit de povestile lui de dragoste, adolescentine. Ani mai tarziu, mi s-a facut loc in viata lui, insa ... prea multi ani... prea tarziu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apoi am construit dragostea, zi cu zi, gand cu gand insuflata mie pentru mine, ca sa imi demonstrez ca exista, ca sa o am, ca sa nu fie doar pentru altii. Am consturit pana a batut un val mediteranean si mi-a aratat cat de subreda mi-a fost constructia iubirii fara iubire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si iar de la zero...fara sa mai detin controlul fara sa stiu ce ma asteapta, am plutit pe mare intr-o luntre fara vasle. Am facut alegeri proaste care in loc sa cicatrizeze vechi iubiri au creat vulcani noi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apoi dragostea a devenit o descoperire, o dorinta de a fi totul pentru cineva care avea totul si fara mine. Din dragoste am devenit prietena de vineri seara. Si tot din dragoste am inchis usa dupa el intr-o sambata dimineata si nu i-am mai deschis-o.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apoi dragostea s-a transformat intr-o speranta ca se poate imparti la doi. Am impartit ce am avut pana am ramas cu nimic, iar el a plecat din tara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si iar am plutit ratacita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apoi dragostea a devenit o arta, o hartie fotografica. Am asezat pe acea hartie si am desenat cu lumina zile in una si nopti in doi, arta culinara in doua cu arta amorului, pana intr-o zi in care totul s-a inecat undeva in ocean intre vechiul si noul continent, cand eu plecata el impresiona hartia fotografica cu alta raza de lumina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si iar am ratacit, golita de speranta, epuizasem valentele iubirii, credeam eu...&lt;br /&gt;am cunoscut iubirea platonica, inspirata, insuflata, ratacita, descoperita, generoasa, artistica si iubirea falsa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand parca nu mai era nimic de aflat am aflat iubirea adevarata, frumoasa in simplitatea ei, fara cuvinte pretentioase, fara declaratii de iubire, fara pompa, doar simtire. Aparuta de nicaieri, dar parca ar fi fost mereu acolo doar sa o vad, doar sa mi-o doresc suficient de tare ca sa vina. Si a venit calda ca o patura moale pe un suflet degerat, socant de normala, stresant de naturala. Asa cum ar trebui sa fie si cum mi-am insuflat ca nu exista, ca sa pot supravietui fara ea. Acum ma reobisnuiesc cu normalitatea si ascult cantece de dragoste - parca se aud altfel cand Cineva are casa in sufletul meu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-1y8DTWYtTM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dragostea nu inseamna cuvinte spuse din greseala, intr-un moment de lipsa de ratiune. Este ceea ce simtim fara sa spunem nimic, intr-un zambet, intr-o imbratisare.&lt;br /&gt;Uneori dragostea nu vine niciodata pentru ca trece pe langa noi fara sa ne faca vreun semn, in cautarea de a iubi pe cineva. Uneori cand vine e deja prea tarziu, pentru ca exista altcineva in loc.&lt;br /&gt;Dragostea nu cunoaste granite, distante, locuri sau varste. Poate veni si se poate rataci printre atatia oameni, ramanand muta intr-o melodie, intr-un zambet, intr-o lacrima.&lt;br /&gt;Dragoastea inseamna sa ierti totul fara repros, sa uiti si sa o iei de la capat.&lt;br /&gt;Inseamna sa nu spui nimic si sa pleci in tacere, sa oferi fara sa astepti nimic in schimb&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2340927193206273547?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2340927193206273547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2340927193206273547&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2340927193206273547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2340927193206273547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2011/06/in-meniu-cantece-de-dragoste.html' title='in meniu, cantece de dragoste'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2477910739944006099</id><published>2011-05-31T08:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T08:19:19.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Carcatita</title><content type='html'>Ploua sfredelitor.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt indispusa dar, de data aceasta fara sa fiu deprimata. Las sa ploua. Eu ma bucur de ale mele. Fac pasi spre schimbarea realitatii. Am facut socata in casa. Eu... socata... daca va puteti imagina. O sa imi vina doi prieteni sa ii servesc cu scoici cu sos de lamaie, vin alb si, la desert... socata infloritoare.&lt;br /&gt;Am un vis, fac bijuterii regale si stiu ca in aceasta lume sunt undeva niste oameni care vor fi incantati sa imi poarte creatiile, ca se vor uita si nu vor sti pe care sa o aleaga mai intai sa o poarte. Incerc sa scot capul din carapace si sa imi dezvalui o parte din mine prin bijuteriile pe care le fac. Astazi m-am simtit de parca as sta goala in fata unui strain, in momentul in care aratam unui necunoscut bijuterille pe care le fac. In vazul lumii, la judecata lumii. O senzatie ciudata care m-a secatuit. Eu stiu un singur lucru. Fiecare bijuterie pe care am facut-o a fost o poveste pe care am vrut sa o pun printre margele, e o traire, un sentiment, o speranta. Asta sunt creatiile mele, sunt oglinda mea, sunt ceea ce nu reusesc sa pun in cuvinte, sunt o poveste de mult uitata rescrisa intr-un caiet nou-nout.&lt;br /&gt;pentru cine intelege, lectura placuta!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2477910739944006099?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2477910739944006099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2477910739944006099&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2477910739944006099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2477910739944006099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2011/05/carcatita.html' title='Carcatita'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6265121970481888722</id><published>2011-05-02T03:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T03:40:50.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Asist la oschimbare de vise</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="msg_100000348988161_undefined" class="fbChatMessage fsm" jsid="message"&gt;Asist la o schimbare de vise&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mhs mbs pts fbChatConvItem fbChatMessageGroup clearfix small"&gt;&lt;div class="messages"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candva visam la &lt;a href="http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/02/magazin-cu-lucruri-buburuzesti.html"&gt;asta&lt;/a&gt; . Acum insa visul meu a prins noi valente, la fel de aromate dar mai pline de soare. Am iesit din magazinul meu si am descoperit aerul, veredeata, viata.&lt;br /&gt;Visez:&lt;br /&gt;- la o casa cu pereti crem si mobila alba cu manere din portelan pictat&lt;br /&gt;- la o gradina cu flori si un mic camp cu levantica&lt;br /&gt;- la o curte cu plante aromate si pentru  gatit si pentru combinatii de ceaiuri nemaiauzite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mhs mbs pts fbChatConvItem fbChatMessageGroup clearfix small"&gt;&lt;span class="hidden_elem"&gt;&lt;a rel="dialog"&gt;&lt;span class="fcg"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="timestamp"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="messages"&gt;&lt;div id="msg_100000348988161_614352479" class="fbChatMessage fsm" jsid="message"&gt;... dar, pentru ca nu ma pot rupe complet de ideea urbana...visez la o ceainarie in orasul apropiat de casa cu pereti crem cu gradina si camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="msg_100000348988161_3636804373" class="fbChatMessage fsm" jsid="message"&gt;Nu imi imaginam sa vreau de astea acum un an. Sunt, din nastere, om de oras mare, dar nu stiu de ce si cum s-a aciuat in mintea mea imaginea asta provensala sau toscaniana, iar daca mi se schimba visele, cred ca sunt la un pas de a mi se schimba realitatea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revin, ca m-am trezit din vis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6265121970481888722?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6265121970481888722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6265121970481888722&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6265121970481888722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6265121970481888722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2011/05/asist-la-oschimbare-de-vise.html' title='Asist la oschimbare de vise'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2859522718176212428</id><published>2011-03-08T17:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T17:56:09.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vecinii</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MzuSRUh_BpI/TXbeMEFPxeI/AAAAAAAAAPg/mRR_uDwKoXs/s1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 371px; height: 136px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MzuSRUh_BpI/TXbeMEFPxeI/AAAAAAAAAPg/mRR_uDwKoXs/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581893087007852002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma balacesc intr-o lume in care am multi vecini, pe unii nici nu ii cunosc, poate doar trec pe langa poarta lor, dar ce observ la toti este ca nu au garduri. Sau poate au, dar nu din acelea inalte, vizibile pe care eventual sa scrie cu sange (preferabil proaspat) ”caine rau”. Pot afla oricand si orice omul necunoscut fara gard a vrut sa impartaseasca cu un trecator ca mine. Posibilitatile sunt multiple - vecinii isi insira cele mai noi si frumoase rufe pe blog, pe tweeter, pe facebook sile mentioneaza in cadrul taclalelor cu alti vecini. Nu ma deranjeaza, pentu ca, asa cum spuneam, ma balacesc si eu in lumea celor care folosesc aceste suporturi ca sfoara de agatat idei, activitati, aspiratii, ca sa le vada poporul. Alta e problema mea acum si aici. Toti au o capra sau mai multe sau pe langa ea mai cresc si gaini, curci si altele. Iar in functie de abilitatile de povestitor, orataniile vecinilor cresc mai repede, au penaj mai stralucitor au mai multi vecini admiratori si datatori cu parerea. Of, nu vreau sa moara capra nimanui, sa nu fiu inteleasa gresit! Ma supara doar faptul ca folosim uneori mai mult timp sa povestim ce am facut decat sa facem cu adevarat ceva, parerea vecinilor acum a ajuns sa conteze mai mult decat oricand, de aceea se intampla sa incepem orice actiune cu gandul cum ar suna titlul unui post sau mesajul scurt cat o ciripeala despre actiunea neinceputa. Ambalam, ambalam, ambalam...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2859522718176212428?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2859522718176212428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2859522718176212428&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2859522718176212428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2859522718176212428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2011/03/vecinii.html' title='Vecinii'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MzuSRUh_BpI/TXbeMEFPxeI/AAAAAAAAAPg/mRR_uDwKoXs/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4239461140040543417</id><published>2011-02-24T07:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T07:23:48.731-08:00</updated><title type='text'>De dragoste, cliseistic</title><content type='html'>Devine din ce in ce mai dificil sa ma desprind de clisee. Uneori pare ca totul s-a spus inaintea mea, totul s-a scris, totul s-a pictat, totul s-a compus, dar cel mai grav, pare ca totul s-a trait inaintea mea, mai intens decat mine, mai bolnavicios decat mine, mai adevarat decat mine. Si atunci eu cu ce raman? Nu stiu! Dar stiu ca ce am e ceea ce vreau sa am. Mai mult, e ceea ce mi-am dorit mult timp sa am. Am acea relatie care ma face sa ma uit in premiera la ofertele ce apar si sa spun fara umbra de regret "nu ma intereseaza". Si nu ma mistuie intrebari seara, nu ma gandesc ca poate noul merita o sansa, poate ofertantul e un povestitor, amant, imbratisator, nemernic mai bun decat actualul. Nu ma macina, pentru ca nu exista mai bun decat el! Pentru mine e cel mai bun! Si ce daca e clisesitic ceea ce spun! Sa fie! poate au zis altii mai frumos inaintea mea, dar stiu ca eu pana acum nu am simtit ca am langa mine un vis implinit. Deci cu ce raman? cu ceea ce mi-am dorit mereu - un EL asa ca in gandurile mele. Astazi sunt fericita sa am langa mine un gand imbracat in carne, idei si simtiri.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4239461140040543417?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4239461140040543417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4239461140040543417&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4239461140040543417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4239461140040543417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2011/02/de-dragoste-cliseistic.html' title='De dragoste, cliseistic'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-5690661668227960981</id><published>2010-11-03T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T07:33:59.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce gasesc in cutie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/TNFyztg96eI/AAAAAAAAAPM/n5sOBtCtbgU/s1600/blanket_boxes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/TNFyztg96eI/AAAAAAAAAPM/n5sOBtCtbgU/s400/blanket_boxes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535331649731815906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suntem cu totii ca niste cutii in care adunam lucruri. La inceput cutia pare mare si, asa cum bine stim din experienta cu posetele, cu cat e mai mare, cu atat mai multe nimicuri punem si cu atat mai greu gasim esentialul. Asadar, cand e mult loc il umplem cu orice, fara sa alegem prea atent, fara sa ne gandim prea mult, fara macar sa ne pese cine stie cat. Dar, nimic nu e infinit sau fara fund si cutia din noi uneori se umple. Ce facem atunci? Alegem, aruncam, reactionam. Diferenta intre oameni se face in asemenea momente. Unii cand simt ca dau pe afara explodeaza in exterior, altii se indreapta spre interior.&lt;br /&gt;Ma dau de-a berbeleacul, imi pun oglinda in fata cutiei sa caut fascinata in ea ca in scrinul bunicii si sa descopar ce e acolo. Sa descopar, sa analizez, sa las deoparte unele, sa valorific altele, iar la sfarsit sa ma mandresc cu aerul proaspat pe care l-am adus, cu ordinea instaurata si cu faptul ca in toata harababura am strecurat putina speranta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suntem cu totii niste cutii in care adunam lucruri. Tu ce ai in cutia ta?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-5690661668227960981?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/5690661668227960981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=5690661668227960981&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5690661668227960981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5690661668227960981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2010/11/ce-gasesc-in-cutie.html' title='Ce gasesc in cutie'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/TNFyztg96eI/AAAAAAAAAPM/n5sOBtCtbgU/s72-c/blanket_boxes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-541451362444084089</id><published>2010-10-11T02:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T03:08:06.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sunt o cheie, oare ultima?</title><content type='html'>O cunostinta a aflat de la prietenul ei ca ea poate fi asociata cu fructe de padure. Iata, mie mi s-a spus ieri ca sunt o cheie, dar nu oricare, sunt ultima cheie - adica aceea, cea buna. Stiti povestea cu Dalai Lama? O femeie l-a intrebat de ce barbatii nu sunt judecati aspru daca au cunoscut mai multe femei, iar femeile sunt tratate ca niste stricate daca au depasit un numar de barbati. Ce a zis Dalai Lama? A raspuns sa convina barbatilor, desigur. Daca o cheie deschide mai multe lacate e o cheie buna, daca un lacat e deshis de mai multe chei, atunci lacatul e defect si nu ti-ai dori sa-l pastrezi. Si iata asa, dragul meu drag s-a grabit aseara sa ma prezinte drept ultima cheie. sa inteleaga fiecare ce doreste din asta. Pentru mine explicatia lui a fost: intotdeauna ultima cheie este cea potrivita si buna, pentru altii... cine stie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-541451362444084089?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/541451362444084089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=541451362444084089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/541451362444084089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/541451362444084089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2010/10/sunt-o-cheie-oare-ultima.html' title='sunt o cheie, oare ultima?'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2844589100512537896</id><published>2010-09-19T07:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T07:58:51.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Partir c'est mourir un peu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/TJYku9zw_TI/AAAAAAAAAPE/Niaq-NNmizw/s1600/1908358095_e8801a9c88_z.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 306px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/TJYku9zw_TI/AAAAAAAAAPE/Niaq-NNmizw/s400/1908358095_e8801a9c88_z.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518638782673386802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traiesc o relatie care incepe in fiecare vineri si se incheie in fiecare duminica, respectand toate simptomele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vineri - batai de inima atat de puternice, incat as putea da cu imprumut si celor care au nevoie urgenta de resuscitare, migala in pregatiri, detalii care sa nu imi scape, ganduri, sperante, nerabdare, dorinta, stangacie. De toate. Exact ca la prima intalnire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sambata - bucuria de a avea inca o zi intreaga inainte si tristetea de a fi trecut deja o zi. Aceeasi dorinta, dar in doua cu ceva mai multa incredere si chiar indrazneala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duminica - momente traite intens pana in ultima clipa, pauze de tacere lungi, o tigara ce fumega mii de ganduri, cuvantul ”trebuie” ce planeaza, anticiparea casei goale, sau a unui drum nesfarsit cu trenul. Casa goala, scrumiera plina, cesti de cafea murdare. Pana vineri letargie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2844589100512537896?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2844589100512537896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2844589100512537896&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2844589100512537896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2844589100512537896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2010/09/partir-cest-mourir-un-peu.html' title='Partir c&apos;est mourir un peu'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/TJYku9zw_TI/AAAAAAAAAPE/Niaq-NNmizw/s72-c/1908358095_e8801a9c88_z.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3975657743183068953</id><published>2010-09-06T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T14:48:30.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'>semnatura</title><content type='html'>periuta de dinti si atat. de fapt depinde in casa cui. daca la o ea, atunci, pe langa o periuta de dinti ar fi si colacul de la WC ridicat. Doua semne. Atat. Vorbesc despre o prezenta in casa si poate si in viata cuiva.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3975657743183068953?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3975657743183068953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3975657743183068953&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3975657743183068953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3975657743183068953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2010/09/semnatura.html' title='semnatura'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7870180842089500937</id><published>2010-07-23T03:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T05:22:37.594-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maratonista intr-o secunda de respiro</title><content type='html'>Stii cum sa simt acum? Ca atunci dupa ce ai alergat mult, foarte mult, atat de mult incat ai ajuns sa nu mai simti nimic, nici oboseala, nici setea, nici durerea, nimic, si brust te-ai oprit, pentru ca ai ajuns la un popas sau poate chiar destinatie. M-am oprit, iar inima inca pulseaza sange in ritm alert. Asa ma simt.&lt;br /&gt;Cam de cand mi-am dat seama ca am suflet m-am inscris la acest maraton al cautarii. Am alergat. Uneori m-am oprit pentru un pahar de apa, fara sa imi pese prea mult din mana cui il primesc, m-am mai oprit si cand m-am lasat constient inselata ca o linie trasata cu creta e si linia de finish, dar am reluat alergatul o data cu prima ploaie, cand linia firava s-a spalat atat de repede, de parca nici nu a fost, iar toata dezamagirea am ascuns-o in pasul de jogging, m-am mai oprit si cand m-am speriat ca alerg spre o naluca si ma bazez pe un zvon si am considerat ca efortul este mult prea mare pentru ceva ce nimeni nu a vazut dar toti vorbesc.&lt;br /&gt;M-am oprit poate adesea, dar dupa fiecare stationare am repornit cu mai mare avant. Mi-am grabit pasul atunci cand cei care au alergat cu mine s-au oprit, dar si atunci cand au revenit in joc, cand  in afara de alergat nu mi-a ramas nimic si cand am avut orice mai putin motiv sa ma opresc.&lt;br /&gt;... Astazi m-am oprit, iar inima sta sa sara de sub ie. Azi m-am oprit si e ca si cum as fi incetinit pasul pentru prima oara de cand mi-am trimis sufletul la alergat. E superb drumul spre destinatie, dar destinatia este mult mai incantatoare...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7870180842089500937?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7870180842089500937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7870180842089500937&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7870180842089500937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7870180842089500937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2010/07/maratonista-intr-o-secunda-de-respiro.html' title='Maratonista intr-o secunda de respiro'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6892459874835621440</id><published>2010-06-07T05:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T06:02:52.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Un post de bine, sa nu fie de deochi</title><content type='html'>De regula, cand e de bine nu e interesant de urmarit, citit, ascultat. Stirile bune nu vand, lucrurile corect facute nu impresioneaza. De aceea, si acest text, pe care il vreau de bine, si care cam va face nota discordanta cu mare parte din tot ce am scris aici nu va trezi mare interes. O cioara alba despre care nu m-am gandit ca voi ajunge sa scriu pe acest blog de buburuza - vesela, dar grea de picaturile de ploaie ce adesea i-au udat aripile.&lt;br /&gt;Niciodata nu mi-am imaginat ca poate fi atat de bine langa cineva fara sa faci efort, sa tragi sfori, sa urzesti panze infinite care sa tina aproape un suflet.&lt;br /&gt;Niciodata nu mi-am imaginat ca ceea ce imi doream si formulam atat de simplu, este de fapt si mai simplu de obtinut atunci cand cine trebuie e langa tine.&lt;br /&gt;Am parte de un sir de premiere, lucruri pe care unele persoane le-au primit din adolescenta poate.&lt;br /&gt;Posibilitatea de a-mi planifica o vacanta fara teama ca in doua zile el poate sa dispara sau poate sa se razgandeasca sau cine stie ce alta nenorocire.&lt;br /&gt;Bucuria de a nu cauta in agenda de telefon pentru a gasi cum sa imi umplu weekend-ul, de frica sa nu raman singura in casa.&lt;br /&gt;Incantarea de a trebalui pe la bucatarie pentru ca am cui oferi ce am gatit.&lt;br /&gt;Placerea infinita de a vorbi despre "maine" la fel de sigur ca despre "peste un an".&lt;br /&gt;Si linistea de a avea nu doar azi o fiinta alaturi, ci pentru multa vreme inainte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6892459874835621440?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6892459874835621440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6892459874835621440&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6892459874835621440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6892459874835621440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2010/06/un-post-de-bine-sa-nu-fie-de-deochi.html' title='Un post de bine, sa nu fie de deochi'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6818139273430724162</id><published>2010-05-31T07:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T09:16:35.825-07:00</updated><title type='text'>cuvinte</title><content type='html'>Mi-e frica de cuvinte. O data spuse pot promite, pot lovi, pot insela, pot dezamagi.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e frica de cuvinte, si acum, mai mult decat alte dati, mi-e frica sa rostesc cuvantul cu "i". Ma surprind adesea cu el pe varful limbii gata-gata sa alunece din colivie si sa ciripeasca acest adevar evident, dar inca tinut sub 32 lacate smaltuite.&lt;br /&gt;Ar zbura jucaus de pe buzele mele sa ma sperie si sa ma faca sa-l rosesc de parca as spune ceva sfant si pacatos in acelasi timp. Nu ar fi prima data cand il descatusez, ba chiar consideram o vreme ca am facut hobby in a-l spune cu intonatie, asa cum recitam poezii in sufragerie in fata oaspetilor pe cand aveam vreo 5 ani.&lt;br /&gt;Cuvantul cu "i" nu imi ridica mari probleme si deileme si chiar eram dezamagita de importanta pe care i-o dadeau unii. Si acum iata, imi dau seama ca nu are sinonime. Deci e un cuvant pe care fie il spui asa cum este fie il tii ferecat in inchisoarea cu 32 de gratii albe pana va pieri acolo de singuratate sau va evada cu suierat, cat sa afle o lume intreaga secretul bine pazit.  &lt;br /&gt;Shhhh, liniste! Fiti cu ochii pe mine, nu ratati ocazia unica, mi se pare acum, de a rosti cuvantul cu "i" abandonandu-ma lui, devenind prizoniera unui prizonier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6818139273430724162?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6818139273430724162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6818139273430724162&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6818139273430724162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6818139273430724162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2010/05/cuvinte.html' title='cuvinte'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7669364426319202037</id><published>2010-04-21T12:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T06:45:13.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ofer un bine la schimb pe niste castane fierbinti scoase din foc cu mainile mele. Cine mai doreste?! Acum e la oferta!</title><content type='html'>Marile dezamagiri pornesc de la micile alegeri pe care le fac cei de langa noi. Accepatam cu mai mare usurinta alegerile celor la care nu tinem, pentru ca nu avem vreo asteptare de la ei, pentru ca ne sunt indiferenti si pur si simplu pentru ca nu ne afecteaza direct. Mult mai greu este sa gasim justificari pentru niste alegeri pe care le fac persoane care au un loc rezervat acolo unde rezervarile se castiga greu si uneori se pierd cu atata lejeritate - in suflet. Am incercat astazi sa fac un bine cuiva cu rezervare, e adeverat, nu in zona VIP, dar totusi rezervare. Binele facut l-am platit prin pierderea cuvantului meu in fata cuiva. A meritat schimbul? Probabil. Pe deoparte am facut un bine, pe de alta am inteles cui l-am facut.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7669364426319202037?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7669364426319202037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7669364426319202037&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7669364426319202037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7669364426319202037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2010/04/ofer-un-bine-la-schimb-pe-niste-castane.html' title='Ofer un bine la schimb pe niste castane fierbinti scoase din foc cu mainile mele. Cine mai doreste?! Acum e la oferta!'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6545322522011264187</id><published>2010-02-08T14:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T18:01:08.322-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Un vicios - un barbat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/S3CRLmo34aI/AAAAAAAAAOU/FS2k6y3QAts/s1600-h/CE124550FG0010.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 367px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/S3CRLmo34aI/AAAAAAAAAOU/FS2k6y3QAts/s400/CE124550FG0010.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436004378772758946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;... gata, STIU! &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Nu stiu, de fapt m-am hotarat!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu m-am hotarat, de fapt am dedus!&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Am o slabiciune pentru barbatii viciosi: fumatori, bautori, boemi. Dar nu  cei care s-au afundat in propriile vicii ca intr-un lac al dulcei evadari, ci  cei care au facut din ele un cult care trebuie respectat, insa care isi pierde  din stralucire daca e prea des la indemana. Viciosii care sorb cu nesat din  viciile lor si nu promit ca vor renunta la ele pentru orice privire cu repros a  vreunei oarecare concubine. Acestia sunt viciosii care imi topesc oasele din  genunchi, imi injecteaza adrenalina in inima si imi anesteziaza orice gand  logic. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Ei stiu sa-si traiasca viata, sa o fumeze pana la ultimul gram de gudron,  pana la ultima panza cetoasa de nicotina. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Stiu sa iubeasca o femeie, sa o bea pana la ultima picatura de seva, pana  la ultima ei clipa de luciditate.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Stiu sa manance o prietenie, sa ii adauge condimente si sa o pastreze in  acelasi timp extrem de echilibrata.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Stiu sa ofere si sa ceara in schimb, ba chiar si sa primeasca pentru ca si  relatiile lor sunt niste vicii, acceptate cu greu si niciodata pe deplin  renuntate. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Stiu ce inseamna dulcea dependenta si administreaza iubire constient si  dozat. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Stiu ce inseamna placerea de a te lasa prada nevoii si jongleaza cu ea pana  la orgasm.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Acestia sun barbatii care ma fascineaza. Pentru ca stiu cate gusturi poate  avea viata si povestesc cu stralucire in ochi despre experienta lor. Nu prin  cuvinte, ci in mangaieri, in cautatura, in gesturi, in sugestii. Niciodata insa prea languros, insiropat sau lipicios.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Un vicios - un barbat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6545322522011264187?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6545322522011264187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6545322522011264187&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6545322522011264187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6545322522011264187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2010/02/un-vicios-un-barbat.html' title='Un vicios - un barbat'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/S3CRLmo34aI/AAAAAAAAAOU/FS2k6y3QAts/s72-c/CE124550FG0010.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-603416833843104997</id><published>2010-01-26T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T18:02:38.707-08:00</updated><title type='text'>... a fost odata</title><content type='html'>am minte scurta. nu stiu azi ce am facut ieri. nu stiu adesea nici ce am simtit pentru cineva candva. dar in toata aceasta uitare raman vii cateva momente, ca niste semne distinctive pe relatiile mele. De iubire, de prietenie sau de indiferenta. Spunea cineva ca oamenii apar in viata noastra cu o misiune, pentru un sezon sau pentru o viata. Mult, foarte mult timp, dupa ce un drum se desparte in doua, revenind de fapt sa starea initiala, am puterea sa recunosc ”misiunea” celui plecat. De fiecare data alta, de fiecare data altul. urmand aceasta logica, de cativa ani, imi invat lectia destul de repede, deoarece misiunile mele in viata lor si a lor in a mea se incheie dupa doar cateva luni. Toate au in comun un singur lucru: ma pregatesc pentru a primi acel om care va aparea in viata mea pentru o viata.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-603416833843104997?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/603416833843104997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=603416833843104997&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/603416833843104997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/603416833843104997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2010/01/fost-odata.html' title='... a fost odata'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7342881743161434204</id><published>2010-01-11T10:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T11:01:00.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Definitii</title><content type='html'>Ce-a fost vraja candva, nu, sa nu uitam&lt;br /&gt;Ci mereu cu iubire s-admiram!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cam asa as defini acest jurnal online al meu.&lt;br /&gt;Locul unde nu uit ”ce-a fost vraja candva”.&lt;br /&gt;Locul unde intorcand capul in urma imi fac vant sa merg inainte.&lt;br /&gt;Locul care inca mai tine minte trairi pecare eu le-am uitat sau le fac uitate.&lt;br /&gt;Locul unde printre randurile triste scrise durut la un moment dat pot citi doar eu puterea de a renaste si de a ma aventura cu mai mare elan in urmatoarea lupta.&lt;br /&gt;Locul unde las sa se vada de sub armura rochia de matase subtire ca o tesatura din fir de paianjen.&lt;br /&gt;Locul unde daca ai acces ai castigat increderea mea, iar poate la un moment dat chiar iubirea mea...&lt;br /&gt;Si chiar daca imi impart gandurile cu oameni dragi azi sau alta data acest loc ramane doar al meu ca in prima zi cand l-am descoperit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFObrjHWt9s"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFObrjHWt9s&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7342881743161434204?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7342881743161434204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7342881743161434204&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7342881743161434204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7342881743161434204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2010/01/definitii.html' title='Definitii'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6272242362422203491</id><published>2009-11-17T06:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T06:35:15.628-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sa facem cunostinta (din serialul despre mine)</title><content type='html'>Sa facem cunostinta, Eu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Preferinte muzicale&lt;/span&gt; - combinatii ciudate, ca branza cu dulceata - de exemplu ieri am ascultat muzica Bizantina si Shakira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Filme&lt;/span&gt; - hm... aici trebuie sa intru in explicatii. Imi plac filmele pe care pot sa le ascult, deci tot ce vine din epoca lui Chaplin nu prea mi se potriveste, pentru ca eu nu vizionez filme. Tot din asta deriva si faptul ca am filme pe care le ascult de mai multe ori, prima data il vad iar urmatoarele dati le ascult. De ce? pentru ca fac bijuuri in timp ce imi imbogatesc cultura cinematografica. Dar in tot multitaskingul asta imi mai scapa lucruri. Cand am fost intrebata de unde vine expresia "Le Big Mac" nu am stiut. Ei si... in schimb stiu aproape pe dinafara Shrek 2, se pune?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ultimele complimente pe care le-am primit&lt;/span&gt; - nu stiu, dar stiu ca m-au facut sa ma simt bine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ultima invitatie la pat&lt;/span&gt; - Mi-as dori sa petrec macar o dimineata cu tine - am refuzat-o, nu din cauza formularii, care totusi a fost draguta, ci pentru ca unele lucruri sunt mult prea gresite pentru a le da curs, chiar daca mi-as fi dorit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Activitati&lt;/span&gt; - nu am vrut sa le spun hobby, caci ... nu am vrut si gata! Deci &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Activitati&lt;/span&gt;: sa colectionez si sa beau ceai (cu sau fara dulceata), sa descopar locuri noi in orasul in care stau, sa ajut pe altii sa descopere orasul in care stau si la plecare sa spuna ca nu credeau ca Bucurestiul poate fi atat de frumos, sa colectionez si sa consum iubiti - pana imi fac o preocupare constanta sa mentin unul si bun, ma delectez cu diversitatea, sa colectionez si sa consum geluri de dus - acum nu prea mai am loc pe rafturi, deci sunt la etapa cosum, sa ma inec in mine si apoi sa ma apuc de par si sa ma scot din butoiul de melancolie, cam asa cum facea Munchausen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Va urma...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6272242362422203491?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6272242362422203491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6272242362422203491&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6272242362422203491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6272242362422203491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/11/sa-facem-cunostinta-din-serialul-despre.html' title='Sa facem cunostinta (din serialul despre mine)'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6746676578017939545</id><published>2009-11-10T02:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T02:27:40.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O imagine, doar asa, ca imi place</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Svk_-FRGNYI/AAAAAAAAAOE/5lWt8Xk0cyk/s1600-h/fata+cu+flori.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 394px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Svk_-FRGNYI/AAAAAAAAAOE/5lWt8Xk0cyk/s400/fata+cu+flori.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402419563805947266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6746676578017939545?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6746676578017939545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6746676578017939545&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6746676578017939545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6746676578017939545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/11/un-tesen-doar-asa-ca-imi-place.html' title='O imagine, doar asa, ca imi place'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Svk_-FRGNYI/AAAAAAAAAOE/5lWt8Xk0cyk/s72-c/fata+cu+flori.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2010004926813540129</id><published>2009-10-16T01:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T04:10:47.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mi-am interzis, dar nu o voi mai face de acum incolo</title><content type='html'>Multi...foarte multi ani am trait interzicandu-mi diverse. Si mi-am creat un asemenea sistem de autoapararre, incat am ajuns sa ma conving ca nu imi doresc acele lucruri, mai mult... pot sa le am dar nu am nevoie de ele. Cred ca ar trebui sa schimb ceva in acest sens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2010004926813540129?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2010004926813540129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2010004926813540129&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2010004926813540129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2010004926813540129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/10/mi-am-interzis-dar-nu-o-voi-mai-face-de.html' title='Mi-am interzis, dar nu o voi mai face de acum incolo'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3247185960679060767</id><published>2009-10-15T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T05:23:03.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Am revenit, cine stie pentru cat timp...</title><content type='html'>...Say goodbye to the world you thought you lived in... Acum... dupa aproape jumatate de an de lipsa de pe acest blog, remarc ca lucrurile nu s-au schimbat prea mult. Sunt din nou un spirit liber, dar parca mai mult decat oricand nu sunt in nicio cautare, poate si pentru ca ce am gasit s-a incheiat cum s-a incheiat sau poate pentru ca nu sunt dispusa sa arat dezordinea din casa mea oricui si sa ma justific in fata nimanui. |Poate ca sunt intr-un moment cand imi doresc sa imi pun ciorapi colorati pentru a nu impresiona pe nimeni si sa imi trag linii gorase de dermatograf verde la ochi fara sa plec urechea la comentarii sau sa dorm in pijamale in dungi pe care unii le-ar considera nesexy. Probabil mi s-a facut dor de toate astea si acum le savurez. La fel cum savurez ceaiurile mele, in timp ce ma uit la filme proaste la care rad cu pofta singura. Nu stiu, acum, azi ma simt bine ca nu imi e dor de nimeni, ca nu ma intriga niste vorbe aruncate sa le prind eu din zbor ca pe un frisbie, ca nu caut in geanta mobilul in timp ce suna si nu ma enervez ca nu il gasesc ca poate EL se supara si inchide pana raspund eu. Acestea ar fi niste clipe de sapat inauntru si de gasit raspunsuri, eu insa nu functionez asa. Eu ma orientez dupa imprejurari, dupa om. Degeaba ajung eu la concluzii cat sunt sigura, daca aplicat pe caz cercetarea mea se spulbera. Iar cazurile de pana acum nu s-au repetat niciodata in simptome, asa ca strategiile si asteptarile pot fi aruncate la cos inca din primele zile de relatie.&lt;br /&gt;Jumatate de an... Am avut momente cand mi se facea dor sa fiu trezita noaptea de sunetul cheilor in usa sau chiar sa tresar cand sunetul cheilor erau in usa vecinei. De fapt, acesta a fost momentul in care am costientizat ca relatia mea a luat sfarsit. Tragic... sau mai degraba clasic - povestea nemuritoare - alta.&lt;br /&gt;Acum un an in urma acelasi om se indragostea de mine... Azi am ramas cu un buchet de vorbe si clipe frumoase ornat cu crengi de spini, care contureaza frumos buchetul asa incat sa nu am acces la florile din interior.&lt;br /&gt;Te-am iubit? ... Acum cel mai simplu ar fi sa spun nu stiu. Stiu insa ca dupa ce ai inchis usa la plecare, urmatorului care a batut la usa mea nu am mai putut sa ii ofer cheile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3247185960679060767?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3247185960679060767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3247185960679060767&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3247185960679060767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3247185960679060767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/10/am-revenit-cine-stie-pentru-cat-timp.html' title='Am revenit, cine stie pentru cat timp...'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-1198157808590093518</id><published>2009-04-25T02:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T02:23:53.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sute de optiuni o singura alegere</title><content type='html'>Mi se pare incorect! Fiecare dintre noi are atatea posibilitati, despre unele nici nu banuieste, iar noi alegem doar una - din comoditate, din limitare, din necunoastere sau cine stie din ce alte motive. Am in lista mea de mes un prieten, caruia ii refuzasem prietenia, fara sa am ceva cu el, ci pentru ca alesesem sa merg mai departe alaturi de persoana cu care eram atunci si cu care am mai impartit 3 ani, pana mi s-a taiat, asa brusc fara sa stiu de unde au venit norii negri. Sincer, nici nu m-am intrebat de unde si de ce au venit acei nori, de aceea nu am putut nici lui sa ii raspund sutelor de intrebari cazute avalansa peste mine cand i-am dat vestea. La fel cum nici mie nu mi s-au dat vreodata raspunsuri la aceleași întrebari.&lt;br /&gt;Dar, despre prietenul de pe mes. Este medic in Elvetia, multumit, fericit, alaturi de o sotie extraordinara (ca la Alanis Morisette ”Meeting the man of your dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife”, ironic).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-1198157808590093518?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/1198157808590093518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=1198157808590093518&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1198157808590093518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1198157808590093518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/04/sute-de-optiuni-o-singura-alegere.html' title='sute de optiuni o singura alegere'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6801328899148021964</id><published>2009-03-24T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T09:16:32.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cand trebuie sa scriu texte dragute la munca...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SckFylJt73I/AAAAAAAAAN8/ejNntApFGCg/s1600-h/Ayo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316787201612050290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SckFylJt73I/AAAAAAAAAN8/ejNntApFGCg/s400/Ayo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;... imi veni o idee sa scriu ceva frumos pe blog. E ca si atunci cand aveam de invatat in sesiune si ma apuca nevoia acuta sa imi fac curat in dulap, apoi descopeream ca pe raft erau doua fire de praf, apoi ca am o bluza murdara pe care eram sigura ca am sa vreau sa o port a doua zi si tot asa mai departe, pana ma trezeam ca examenul era a doua zi, ca nu aveam habar despre ce era, iar casa imi stralucea. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...despre ceva dragut...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blogul meu e un fel de "loc de plans". Si oricine il citeste are impresia ca pe biroul meu sta mereu o lama, o sfoara cu sapun si o cutie cu somnifere, mereu gata sa imi serveasca la nevoie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu este adevarat! Blogul meu este singurul loc in care imi dau voie sa mai fiu si trista din cand in cand, iar dupa ce imi vars amarul pe saraca pagina de blog, zambesc si las lumea sa se minuneze de cata pofta de viata se strecoara in privirea mea, cata veselie comunica zambetul meu de reclama la colgate whitening si cat chef de a trai transmit cretii mei jucausi. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;... despre ceva dragut...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vreau o basca jamaicana, din aia crosetata, in trei culori traditionale (verde, negru si galben) - nu are nicio legatura cu acest post, dar am citit undeva ca daca vrei ceva trebuie sa te gandesti mult la asta "si universul va complota sa iti indeplineasca dorinta". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Imi place sa o ascult pe Ayo pentru ca traieste cand canta si imi aminteste ca lucrurile simple sunt cele care conteaza in viata: un grup de prieteni cu care vorbesc rar, dar bine, un om drag care nu imi spune neincetat ca ma iubeste dar ii simt dragostea cand ma tine in brate cand dormim, parintii in privirea carora citesc grija si dorinta sa ma vada fericita. Lucruri simple ce fac viata frumoasa. Lucruri simple puse pe note - despre asta sunt melodiile lui Ayo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6801328899148021964?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6801328899148021964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6801328899148021964&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6801328899148021964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6801328899148021964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/03/cand-trebuie-sa-scriu-texte-dragute-la.html' title='Cand trebuie sa scriu texte dragute la munca...'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SckFylJt73I/AAAAAAAAAN8/ejNntApFGCg/s72-c/Ayo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-8934523921092933373</id><published>2009-03-13T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T17:16:49.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cui apartine puterea de decizie?</title><content type='html'>Si iar despre barbatii din viata mea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au aparut, rand pe rand, pe teren cicatrizat si gata sa incolteasca din nou.&lt;br /&gt;Au plecat, rand pe rand, de pe un teren pus suta la suta la dispozitia lor.&lt;br /&gt;Nu au stiut ce sa faca cu atatea proprietati si au preferat sa plece...&lt;br /&gt;Au decis sa plece, lasand terenuri neprelucrate la inceput de primavara.&lt;br /&gt;Spunea cineva ca singurul pacat pe care Dumnezeu nu il iarta este sa nu fii cu o femeie cand stii ca ea te asteapta si te doreste.&lt;br /&gt;Au decis barbateste sa plece... fara prea multe explicatii&lt;br /&gt;Unii au facut astfel incat sa para ca e decizia mea. Nu pentru confortul meu, ci pentru linistea lor, fara sa isi asume decizii grele. Au fost si clipe cand am intuit tactica si am tinut cu dintii sa nu pronunt cuvantul despartire, am tinut cu dintii pana mi-au scrasnit gaurindu-mi sufletul si m-a durut mai tare. Altii au inchis usa intr-o dimineata si nu s-au mai intors nici in prima seara, nici in urmatoarea nici in urmatoarele sute de seri.&lt;br /&gt;Luni te-ai apropiat de patul meu, unde imi savuram acele cateva minute inainte de a ma trezi de-a binelea si mi-ai zis ca trebuie sa pleci. Seara am dormit singura, la fel si urmatoarea seara, si urmatoarea...&lt;br /&gt;Dar stiu ca nu ai disparut. Esti alaturi de mine prin cuvintele pe care mi le spui la telefon, prin gandul tau pe care il simt. Si totusi, seara cand deschid usa te caut cu privirea, poate iti bei cafeaua in timp ce citesti si fumezi in bucatarie, poate esti in camera mea si te uiti la vreo dezbatere politica, poate esti in baie, poate ai iesit pana la magazin. Imi pun geaca in cui strecor un suspin si imi spun ca ai plecat sa te intorci, pentru ca periuta ta de dinti e acasa, pentru ca raftul tau e plin cu haine iar in priza incarcatorul asteapta mobilul tau asa cum te astept eu pe tine. Astept sa te descarci, ca sa te intorci la mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-8934523921092933373?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/8934523921092933373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=8934523921092933373&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8934523921092933373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8934523921092933373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/03/cui-apartine-puterea-de-decizie.html' title='Cui apartine puterea de decizie?'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3093677748412218624</id><published>2009-02-02T05:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T16:30:24.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confesiune</title><content type='html'>Aseara am avut o discutie cu el care m-a dat peste cap, adica stii cum e, pana nu rostseti te faci ca nu exista.&lt;br /&gt;El mi-a zis ca in viata lui lucrurile sunt deja destul de clare, el altfel nu va fi si ca eu la un moment dat voi pleca pentru ca vom avea ritmuri diferite si el nu va putea tine pasul cu mine. cel mai trist e ca stiu ca asa e, dar nu vreau sa ma gandesc la asta acum si nici nu vroiam sa imi spuna. stateam in picioare in brate, ma tinea strans strans si imi spunea toate astea, acelasi lucru cu multe explicatii. Ca el a luptat mult cu sine sa nu se ataseze de mine si ca deja cand a iesit cu mine era in stadiul in care se surprindea gandindu-se la mine.&lt;br /&gt;era...nu stiu cum sa spun, intr-un fel foarte frumos pentru ca omul asta punea pe tava niste trairi clar foarte profunde si foarte mult durute care greu se spun, pe de alta parte era si foarte ustutrator pentru ca aveam impresia ca acum imediat ce va termina toate explicatiile se va intoarce si va pleca pentru totdeauna.&lt;br /&gt;pe urma mi-a zis ca stie ca e cu final povestea asta el va face tot ce ii sta in putinta sa il tina cat mai departe acest final pentru ca nu se vede trezindu-se singur dimineata.&lt;br /&gt;in toata povestea asta eu taceam si il ascultam nu am putut sa ii spun ca mai mult decat orice urasc casa goala dupa o despartire, sufletul gol dupa ce am daruit tot din el, mintea goala si in acelasi timp atat de grea de 1000 de ganduri. eu nu deschid usa oricui si daca i-am deschis-o a fost pentru ca ne-am dat o sansa.&lt;br /&gt;de fapt, asa cum sunt eu, (desi pare ciudat) nu am o colectie de iubiti care asteapta la coada sa fie cu mine pentru ca de fapt toti se sperie si fug&lt;br /&gt;i-am zis ce inseamna pentru mine si ca vom fi impreuna atat timp cat vom vrea amandoi, dar el de fapt se teme, ca toti altii, ca o relatie cu mine inevitabil duce la jugul casatoriei pentru ca decurge frumos.&lt;br /&gt;eu sunt satula de barbati care sa imi spuna ca as fi fost o soata ideala sunt satula sa dau sanse omaneilor care nu vor sanse, iar in cazul lui stiam de la inceput ca viata lui curge intr-un anume fel si este loc de mine acolo, atat timp cat nu am sa-i schimb cu nimic ritmul. el viseaza la niste lucruri la care si eu am sa ajung o data si o data, dar nu sunt ceea ce vreau eu in acest moment. eu insa, ca intotdeauna, traiesc azi, aici si acum, ard totul si cand se stinge focul ma perpelesc, intru in convalescenta o vreme si apoi revin la margeluit si uitat la filme singura, fara sa am vreo problema cu asta.&lt;br /&gt;dar daca acum totul este atat de frumos si povestea asta e cu adevarat o poveste de ce sa nu ma las iubita asa cum viseaza el sa ma iubeasca de ce sa nu accept si sa ma bucur ca ma stiu in gandurile lui?&lt;br /&gt;crezi ca eu nu imi dau seama ca nu putem face ciorba foarte mult timp? doar ca eu l-am acceptat acum, m-am aruncat sa inot cat va tine luntrea si pe urma ma inec oleaca, mai inot oleaca si imi revin. sufletul meu avea nevoie de povestea asta si am luat-o cu toate ale ei, bune si rele.&lt;br /&gt;e dezarmant sa vezi un om care isi recunoaste slabiciunea pe deoparte, slabiciunea fata de persoana ta iar pe de alta parte, slabiciunea vietii lui care iti poate afecta tie viata.&lt;br /&gt;Dupa 10 muinute i-am zis ca i-am cumparat periuta de dinti, sa aiba oricand ramane la mine. S-a uitat lung m-a luat in brate si m-a intrebat: "de ce m-ai lasat sa spun toate astea, daca tu mi-ai luat periuta"?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3093677748412218624?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3093677748412218624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3093677748412218624&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3093677748412218624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3093677748412218624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/02/confesiune.html' title='Confesiune'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4361368659566126227</id><published>2009-01-26T02:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T02:34:44.660-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scrisoare</title><content type='html'>Stii, m-am trezit la o bucata de noapte si mi-am dat seama ca mi-e frica. Eram pe jumate adormita si imi amintesc ca prin ceata ca ti-am zis ca mi-e frica. M-ai intrebat de ce si ti-am zis ca ma atasez de tine. Nu tin minte ce mi-ai raspuns, dar stiu ca am adormit linistita.&lt;br /&gt;De ce mie frica?&lt;br /&gt;Pentru ca imediat ce omul de langa mine intelege ca a devenit o parte din mine se schimba. Prinde acea siguranta care ii da libertatea sa nu raspunda la telefon, sa nu ma invite in oras si in final sa nu se mai uite cu admiratie la mine.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e frica deoarece acest sentiment este semnul inceputului sfrasitului.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4361368659566126227?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4361368659566126227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4361368659566126227&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4361368659566126227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4361368659566126227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/01/scrisoare.html' title='Scrisoare'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-8017911844708918196</id><published>2009-01-23T00:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T00:59:14.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre toate si nimic</title><content type='html'>Despre tine prin mine: Dorm bine in tricoul purtat de tine. Dorm bine la tine in brate. Dorm bine cand te uiti pana la 2 noaptea la filme. Dorm bine dupa ce iti fumezi tu tigara. Dorm bine cu gandul la tine. Dorm bine cand esti langa mine cu gandul sau cu trupul. Vom fi impreuna atat timp cat voi dormi bine alaturi de tine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-8017911844708918196?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/8017911844708918196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=8017911844708918196&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8017911844708918196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8017911844708918196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/01/despre-toate-si-nimic.html' title='Despre toate si nimic'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-8017307310744874634</id><published>2009-01-03T10:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T16:33:09.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O iubire de o zi</title><content type='html'>Exista iubiri care sunt facute sa dureze o vesnicie, sa arda incet, uneori sa mocneasca doar, dar sa fie mereu vii, sa incalzeasca atat cat sa tina sufletul la caldut.&lt;br /&gt;Exista insa si iubiri de o zi.&lt;br /&gt;Se aprind pe neasteptate, lumina lor e atat de puternica incat te sperie. E ca un soare pe timp de canicula, pe care pur si simplu nu poti sa il suporti toata viata. O zi e doza maxim suportabila. Stiu amandoi ca au doar o zi la dispozitie, dar o traiesc de parca eternitatea este inghesuita in cateva ore. Exista zile perfecte si acestea sunt cele umplute de astfel de iubiri. Sunt zile in care timpul se opreste, oamenii dispar, si nimic altceva nu misca decat doua inimi.&lt;br /&gt;Iubirile de o zi nu se uita. Ele raman in colectia de de amintiri scumpe, pe care de regula iti e frica sa le scoti din scrin, sa nu iasa fantomele. Raman ascunse, dar nu prind niciodata praf.&lt;br /&gt;Iubirile de o zi nu se incheie cu o noapte de neuitat. Pentru ca diminetile distrug farmecul. Se incheie cu despartirea in fata statiei de taxi, sau la usa scarii si cu intrebarea nerostita: cum ar fi daca?... si imediat cu raspunsul: e mai bine asa... Se incheie cu un sarut scurt si cu o imbratisare lunga, care face cat toate cuvintele si cat toate noptile laolalta. Si dupa toate acestea te alegi cu o nopate in care te zvarcolesti pana in zori si cu amintirea caldurii acelei zile. Nu ai regrete, nu ai sperante, ci doar o bucurie ca ai trait o iubire de o zi, ca ai trezit si ti s-au trezit niste sentimente atat de puternice.&lt;br /&gt;In zori reincepi cautarea unei iubiri mocnitoare, fara insa sa uiti ca exista iubiri de o zi, care cu regret ne-ar arde daca ne-ar incalzi astfel toata viata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYEC4TZsy-Y"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYEC4TZsy-Y &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-8017307310744874634?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/8017307310744874634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=8017307310744874634&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8017307310744874634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8017307310744874634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2009/01/o-iubire-de-o-zi.html' title='O iubire de o zi'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2711200321903802843</id><published>2008-12-16T01:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T02:41:30.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SUd8xVNKVUI/AAAAAAAAANM/nlG9CSURCUw/s1600-h/bucuria_(amara)_20_gr_180x158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280326275062977858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SUd8xVNKVUI/AAAAAAAAANM/nlG9CSURCUw/s400/bucuria_(amara)_20_gr_180x158.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Asa, fara nicio legatura, mi s-a facut dor de ciocolata "Dor" de la Bucuria, pe care mama mi-o strecura in fiecare pachet pe care mi-l trmitea in primul an cand am venit in Romania. Era de mai multe sortimente: neagra, cu vanilie, cu alune maruntite, cu napolitane maruntite. Era o tableta mica de 20 de grame intr-un ambalaj simplut, dar era tare buna caci era de la mama. Mancam cate o bucatica pe zi sa imi tina cat mai mult.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am revazut aseara filmul Chocolat si m-am gandit ca e bine sa vezi unoeri filmulete de astea dulci, in care binele iarta, binele iese la suprafata, binele nu se ingrasa, binele supravietuieste. Asa e si filmul asta, o tableta de ciocolata salveaza un oras intreg, putin cate putin, imbucatura cu imbucatura, lingurita cu lingurita. Poate ca si tableta "Dor" trimisa periodic de mama m-a salvat intr-un fel si m-a facut sa raman aici fara sa uit de unde vin dar, mai ales, incotro trebuie sa ma indrept. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2711200321903802843?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2711200321903802843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2711200321903802843&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2711200321903802843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2711200321903802843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/12/dor.html' title='Dor'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SUd8xVNKVUI/AAAAAAAAANM/nlG9CSURCUw/s72-c/bucuria_(amara)_20_gr_180x158.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-5465969771207409648</id><published>2008-12-08T13:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T14:18:40.577-08:00</updated><title type='text'>De moda veche</title><content type='html'>Sunt de moda veche si acest fapt imi rezervă tot patul mie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu pot sa inteleg cateva lucruri ale modei noi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. De cand barbatii se invita cu insistenta acasa la o femeie pe care au vazut-o o singura data in viata? Oare intre un zambet si o noapte petrecuta in pat strain nu mai e nimic. S-au ars atat de multe etape? Cand? De ce?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. De cand barbatii au nevie de umarul unei femei? In povestile pe care le-am citit cand eram mica lucrurile stateau exact invers - femeia era slaba si avea nevoie de cineva puternic laga ea. Cavalerul trecea prin foc si para si apoi salva printesa din cel mai inalt turn al palatului intunecos. Azi femeia duce scutul si armura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. De cand barbatii trimit mesaje in care spun ca femeia le-a oferit o seara minunata? La nu mai stiu ce scoala am invatat ca ei ar trebui sa fie cei care ofera si noi cele care primim. Dar poate am fost eu repetenta la vreun curs unde se demonstra contrariul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. De cand barbatii spun cu seninatate: ”tu ai sa faci bani, iar eu am să stau acasă să cresc copiii?” Sau: ”ne mutam impreuna cand ai tai iti vor cumpara apartament, pana atunci tu stai in chirie, iar eu stau la mine acasa”? Cine e cocosul in povestea asta si mai ales cine naste copiii, ca eu m-am cam ratacit printre manifestari hormonale de tot felul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma opresc aici nu pentru ca nu mai am nelamuriri de buburuza de moda veche, ci pentru ca e tarziu si cu cat ma gandesc mai mult la tema asta, cu atat ma enervez mai tare. Noapte buna, stimata jumate de pat goala.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-5465969771207409648?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/5465969771207409648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=5465969771207409648&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5465969771207409648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5465969771207409648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/12/de-moda-veche.html' title='De moda veche'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-1731023508462859282</id><published>2008-12-02T04:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T07:36:09.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hibernare afectiva</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/STamvO3E73I/AAAAAAAAANE/mzHghblsW8M/s1600-h/Picture+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275587343884283762" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/STamvO3E73I/AAAAAAAAANE/mzHghblsW8M/s400/Picture+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Birlogul meu este cochet. Miroase a flori de lacramioara sau a mosc, in functie de dorul care ma cuprinde: de iarna tunisiana sau de vara de la Manta. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Barlogul meu este tapetat cu tot ce nu te-ai gandi ca poate sta pe pereti: patru evantaie desfacute prietenos, 7 posete de 7 stiluri (charleston, etno dominican, boho chic, hippy, classic, copilaresc, frantuzesc), un numar variabil de curele si un numar incert de coliere. Colierele - cadouri primite de la foste iubiri sau siraguri facute in ore de liniste - bilute insirate gand cu gand, fire impletite film cu film, noduri legate vorba cu vorba. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Barlogul meu este un mix de dispozitii. Are un colt al copilariei, unde am depozitat bilute de sticla, un felinar umplut cu scoici de la mare, niste trandafiri de desert, niste nisip din Sahara, cateva jucarii. Un colt al lui Guttemberg: albume de arta, reviste de femei, ziare de aici si de aiurea, carti de inima albastra sau de minte inrosita - intr-un cuvant calorii pentru suflet si minte. Un colt ZEN burdusit cu numaistiu cate sortimente de ceaiuri, condimente si dulceturi. Un colt muzical cu un diapazon de la DDT la Lisa Ekdahl, trecand prin Anais, Nancy Ajram, presarat cu carti audio. Si o cutie chinezeasca, pictata, cu 5 sertare si-o oglinda unde ascund vise. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Barlogul meu este un refugiu pentru cei rataciti in ganduri, pentru cei raciti de priviri profesionale, pentru cei obositi de cuvinte zornaitoare, pentru cei opriti la rascruce de drumuri. &lt;/div&gt;... Merg acasa sa beau un ceai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-1731023508462859282?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/1731023508462859282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=1731023508462859282&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1731023508462859282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1731023508462859282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/12/hibernare-afectiva.html' title='Hibernare afectiva'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/STamvO3E73I/AAAAAAAAANE/mzHghblsW8M/s72-c/Picture+015.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-693216891459779810</id><published>2008-11-21T01:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T02:02:12.071-08:00</updated><title type='text'>E toamna, ce pot sa zic mai mult?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SSaG5p1n20I/AAAAAAAAAM8/qpQa82EhIb4/s1600-h/toamna%255B3%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271048738925173570" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SSaG5p1n20I/AAAAAAAAAM8/qpQa82EhIb4/s400/toamna%255B3%255D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oamenii care ma inconjoara. Apar, dispar, reapar, redispar. Ii aduc in preajma mea, ii alung de langa mine. Apoi mi se face dor. Apoi imi spun ca trebuie sa merg mai departe si merg mai departe. Alti oameni apar. Mi-e dor de ceva ce nu stiu daca am avut vreodata. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-693216891459779810?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/693216891459779810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=693216891459779810&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/693216891459779810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/693216891459779810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/11/e-toamna-ce-pot-sa-zic-mai-mult.html' title='E toamna, ce pot sa zic mai mult?'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SSaG5p1n20I/AAAAAAAAAM8/qpQa82EhIb4/s72-c/toamna%255B3%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-5013364818095171656</id><published>2008-11-05T11:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T07:28:10.495-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Veriu, ne veriu</title><content type='html'>Cand eram mici, eu si fratele meu ne jucam de-a ”veriu, ne veriu” (cred, nu cred) era un joc de carti ziceai ca pui un popa si celalalt fie te credea si punea inca un popa desupra sau nu te credea si trebuia sa retragi cartea si tot teanclul de popi de sub ea, daca minteai. Mai mereu pierdeam pentru ca nu stiam sa mint si pe deasupra eram si credula. De cand m-am facut mare joc zilnic ”Cred, nu cred” cu oamenii care ma inconjoara:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cred in bunavointa prietenelor mele.&lt;br /&gt;Nu cred in cunostinte care dispar mult timp si apoi apar pe mes si imi zic: ”ce ai patit, nu dai niciun semn si nu ma mai bagi in seama”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cred in oameni cu pasiuni care atunci cand le impartasesc au scantei in ochi&lt;br /&gt;Nu cred in oameni care isi aleg pasiunile in functie de modul in care acestea dau la public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cred in stilul care completeaza personalitatea&lt;br /&gt;Nu cred in stilul care acopera golul de caracter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cred&lt;br /&gt;nu cred&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-5013364818095171656?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/5013364818095171656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=5013364818095171656&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5013364818095171656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5013364818095171656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/11/veriu-ne-veriu.html' title='Veriu, ne veriu'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3924191609267002080</id><published>2008-11-05T06:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T06:55:10.384-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ma iau in brate si adorm linistita</title><content type='html'>Asta fac in fiecare seara. Si mi-e bine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3924191609267002080?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3924191609267002080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3924191609267002080&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3924191609267002080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3924191609267002080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/11/ma-iau-in-brate-si-adorm-linistita.html' title='Ma iau in brate si adorm linistita'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-5952717738767952959</id><published>2008-10-28T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T12:58:33.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>***</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SQdu3XEeHPI/AAAAAAAAAM0/DTELs81ZICQ/s1600-h/100x80+armonia+di+sentimenti.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SQdu3XEeHPI/AAAAAAAAAM0/DTELs81ZICQ/s400/100x80+armonia+di+sentimenti.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262296586970340594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunt Buburuza si impart singuratatea mea la 1. Eu cu mine.&lt;br /&gt;Am iubit si am fost iubita.  Am primit cele mai frumoase declaratii de dragoste prin gesturi si priviri mai mult decat prin cuvinte insirate iscusit. Am primit cele mai scumpe cadouri prin sufletul care a fost pus in ele mai mult decat prin valoarea lor materiala, am avut parte de cele mai fierbinti nopti de dragoste, mai mult prin dorinta infinita aciuata printre cearsafuri decat prin maiestria si calculul miscarilor. Am fost iubita si am iubit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barbatii din viata mea, chiar daca la un moment dat au decis sa plece, dupa o vreme au batut din nou la usa. Pe unii i-am primit in casa, pentru a-mi unge rana veche cu mierea reintoarcerii scurte, pe altii i-am lasat dupa usa si m-am facut ca nu sunt acasa, razbunare pentru cele pricinuite. Barbatii din viata mea mi-au adus tot atata iubire cata durere. Pentru ambele le multumesc in egala masura. Toate m-au facut ceea ce sunt azi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barbatii din viata mea mi-au oferit cele mai deosebite semne de atentie. Iar cel mai de pret a fost dorinta lor de a fi salavatorii mei, niste cavaleri porniti in lungul drum spre inima mea. Fiecare mi-a promis ca ma va face sa stralucesc de fericire si implinire si cu totii au esuat pe drum sau in momentul in care eu incepeam sa capat incredere in promisiunile lor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barbatii din viata mea mi-au demonstrat ca  intr-o lume plina de masini, calculatoare si mobile mai exista romantici incurabili pentru care nu iti pare rau sa opresti timpul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am oferit iubire si de aceea am primit iubire. Am vazut barbati care s-au fasticit privindu-ma, barbati care au ramas cu mainile intinse spre mine sa ma ia in brate si care in momentul in care i-a lovit luciditatea s-au retras rusinati, barbati care si-au pus toata fiinta intr-un sarut oferit mie, barbati care in momentul in care m-au luat in brate nu au vrut sa ma mai lase, barbati care au creat privindu-ma, barbati care au ramas incalciti printre cretii mei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am fost iubita si stiu ca sunt in continuare iubita de toti cei care intr-un moment de uitare mi-au decalarat dragoste. Sunt intr-un colt din sufletul lor la fel cum sunt ei in al meu. Barbatii din viata mea au numele lor scrijelite pe sufletul meu si toate iubirile care vor veni nu le vor sterge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barbatii din viata mea m-au crescut sa devin Femeia din viata Unui Barbat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-5952717738767952959?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/5952717738767952959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=5952717738767952959&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5952717738767952959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5952717738767952959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post.html' title='***'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SQdu3XEeHPI/AAAAAAAAAM0/DTELs81ZICQ/s72-c/100x80+armonia+di+sentimenti.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-930345080213940499</id><published>2008-10-28T06:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T07:22:13.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fata tatei</title><content type='html'>Mama mereu mi-a zis ca sunt fata lu tata, in gluma desigur, atunci cand ii luam apararea in tachinarile lor de oameni care formeaza o familie de peste 30 de ani. Mi-s dragi tare si uneori ma simt vinovata ca imi irosesc timpul si sentimentele pe persoane care nu merita si nu gasesc niciodata destul timp sa ii sun sa ii intreb ce mai fac. Stiu insa ca oricat de ratacita in propriile ganduri si suparari as fi, pot mereu sa revin la ei si sa gasesc caldura pe care inca nu am descoperit-o in alta parte.&lt;br /&gt;Nu ma cred fata tatei mai mult decat fata mamei, pentru ca singurul numar de mobil pe care il stiu pe dinafara e cel al ei,&lt;br /&gt;pentru ca daca dau supararile pe afara o tin pe ea la telefon cate jumatate de ora,&lt;br /&gt;pentru ca daca ma doare ceva, atunci ea saraca pica la bataie,&lt;br /&gt;pentru ca tata o pune pe ea sa ma intrebe despre viata mea si apoi o descoase, iar apoi el interpreteaza asa cum ii suna lui mai bine si verifica cu mine, bineinteles intepreteaza gresit, mama il cearta iar eu ma fac bosumflici,&lt;br /&gt;pentru ca mama stie sa asculte, iar tata stie sa dea sfaturi profesionale intelepte,&lt;br /&gt;pentru ca mama e calma, iar tata e agitat nevoie mare,&lt;br /&gt;pentru ca impreuna fac acel cuplu pe care visez si eu la un moment dat sa il formez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5KCv0_rfrDA&amp;amp;NR=1"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5KCv0_rfrDA&amp;amp;NR=1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-930345080213940499?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/930345080213940499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=930345080213940499&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/930345080213940499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/930345080213940499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/10/fata-tatei.html' title='Fata tatei'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3733650296562384016</id><published>2008-10-17T04:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T04:52:41.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Asa cum sunt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SPh8f2TF-nI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Y3nd-ZuC0H4/s1600-h/Narcis_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258089451548441202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SPh8f2TF-nI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Y3nd-ZuC0H4/s400/Narcis_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buna ziua, sunt buburuza si fac margele si nu ma tratez. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stiati ca-uri despre mine:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beau ceai cu dulceata (preferabil de visine), &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ma uit de 10 ori la acelasi film daca imi place foarte mult, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am genti agatate pe pereti, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ascult rock rusesc, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Port ciorapi colorati, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ma imprastii pe tot patul cu bilute si cordelute cand fac bijuuri, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vorbesc cu accent cand o sun pe mama, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stau in cafenele si citesc&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vorbesc prieteneste cu oamenii si acestia interpreteaza ca flirt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ma uit urat cand sunt nedreptatita&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am farfurii de ceramica si voi avea si mai multe cand am sa fiu la casa mea&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu vorbesc mult, dar ascult bine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu gust mistouri, nici cele facute pe seama mea nici cele servite altora, de aceea mi se reproseaza ca nu am simtul umorului.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am simtul umorului si apreciez glumele inteligente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fac cercei din panglicute de 3 dimensiuni si de o infinitate de culori&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunt burete de energii &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ma imbrac din magazine pe care le descopar intamplator hoinarind prin oras.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E destul pentru azi, ca sunt izvor nesecat de stiati ca-uri. Da, e important sa spun si ca sunt modesta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3733650296562384016?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3733650296562384016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3733650296562384016&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3733650296562384016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3733650296562384016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/10/asa-cum-sunt.html' title='Asa cum sunt'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SPh8f2TF-nI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Y3nd-ZuC0H4/s72-c/Narcis_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6571149942639625511</id><published>2008-10-13T04:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T04:27:31.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>M-am indragostit, ups I did it again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SPMwflxmVnI/AAAAAAAAAMk/L6FNEXKuwms/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256598509345724018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SPMwflxmVnI/AAAAAAAAAMk/L6FNEXKuwms/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;La naiba! M-am indragostit aiurea, de cineva pe care s-ar putea sa nu il mai vad niciodata. Ce m-a cucerit? Banalitati. Galanterii de mult uitate de barbati: dusul posetei, un stil anume de a asculta, un stil anume de a vorbi, un mod propriu de a lua de mana, un mod aparte de a tine in brate si de a saruta. Prostii atat de la indemana oricarui barbat si atat de rar intalnite. Si stii ceva? Niciunul din aceste gesturi nu l-a facut sa para de moda veche. Vestea buna este una: Deci exista, deci se poate! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6571149942639625511?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6571149942639625511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6571149942639625511&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6571149942639625511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6571149942639625511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/10/m-am-indragostit-ups-i-did-it-again.html' title='M-am indragostit, ups I did it again'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SPMwflxmVnI/AAAAAAAAAMk/L6FNEXKuwms/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6017421273187250164</id><published>2008-10-12T10:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T10:37:26.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Azi buburuza a zburat 42.195 m</title><content type='html'>Azi am avut in Bucuresti un maraton international, iar pe aripioarele mele rosii cu buline negre a stat tot PR-ul. Si in timp ce maratonistii faceau ture in jurul centrului Bucurestiului, eu am facut ture prin Piata Constitutiei. Multe, nu le stiu numarul. Ajunsa acasa, am vrut sa imi inmoi aripioarele intr-o baie calda cu spuma, dar nu a fost chip, din 5 in 5 minute saream fripta din apa, pentru ca imi suna telefonul, acum e ora 8 jumatate si vad ca telefonul a tacut, doar imi minte imi mai zorneie soneria. Telefonul a tacut exact cand as dori mai mult sa sune, sa sune cineva sa ma scoata in oras...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6017421273187250164?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6017421273187250164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6017421273187250164&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6017421273187250164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6017421273187250164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/10/azi-buburuza-zburat-42195-m.html' title='Azi buburuza a zburat 42.195 m'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3418075802274923343</id><published>2008-10-02T12:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T04:07:50.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Melodiile vechilor iubiri</title><content type='html'>Sufletul meu e ca un fel de cos care cu anii devine din ce in ce mai mare. Nu pentru ca devin mai generoasa, ci pentru ca nu stiu cum se face ca ajung sa las loc in sufletul meu tututror celor care l-au ocupat in intregime la un moment dat. E ca si casele care raman fostilor presedinti pana la moarte. Si iata asa, cu fiecare relatie sufletul meu se face tot mai mare si mai mare. iar in fiecare colt salasluieste linistit si nederanjat de nimeni si de mine cate o fosta iubire. Nu merg in vizita unul la altul, nici nu stiu de existenta celorlalti. In acele coltisoare sunt inmagazinate sub cheia pe care imi place sa o stiu perduta povestile noastre, filmele noastre, dezmierdarile noastre, serile noastre, noptile noastre, despartirea noastra. Ceea ce am adorat la un moment dat, astazi e tabu, altfel as fi o vesnica rana, o lacrima mare, o durere infinita.&lt;br /&gt;Melodiile fostelor iubiri:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BW-lKSD8t8E&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BW-lKSD8t8E&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHPTHP4dihA&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHPTHP4dihA&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CdmskOlFEbQ"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CdmskOlFEbQ&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insa cel mai tare mi-e frica de aceasta melodie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7H_NXNMLZzY"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7H_NXNMLZzY&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3418075802274923343?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3418075802274923343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3418075802274923343&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3418075802274923343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3418075802274923343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/10/melodiile-vechilor-iubiri.html' title='Melodiile vechilor iubiri'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7724585051523614577</id><published>2008-09-25T01:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T12:09:26.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Berea nu e  mai dulce cand cresti mare</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Prietena mea ce mai buna imi povestea ca atunci cand era mica si ii vedea pe cei mari ca beau berea amara era foarte derutata. Cum pot adultii sa bea ceva atat de amar. Concluzia ei la acea varsta a fost una: cand esti mare berea are alt gust. Cu cat mai mare cu atat mai dulce. Anii au trecut, iar berea nu si-a schimbat gustul.&lt;br /&gt;Acum ceva vreme am avut ocazia sa asist la o discutie dintre niste prietene. toate aveau cam 30 de ani. Despre ce vorbesc fetele la 30 de ani? Despre acelasi lucru: discutii cu baieti pe mes ”el a zis asta, eu am zis asta, oare trebuia sa ii zic asta?”, prima intalnire la o cafenea ”nu m-a condus pana acasa, nu m-a tinut de mana”, o relatie cu cineva langa care iti e cald dar nu iti e drag ”Mergem la mare la munte, dar nu ma vad alaturi de el”. Am avut un deja vu. Am asistat la aceleasi discutii pe care le am eu cu prietenele mele de 25 de ani, aceleasi pe care le aveam cand aveam 20, aceleasi pe care le aveam si la 17 ani.&lt;br /&gt;Oare la ce varsta se scimba dialogul? Oare cand berea devine dulce?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7724585051523614577?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7724585051523614577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7724585051523614577&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7724585051523614577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7724585051523614577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/09/berea-nu-e-mai-dulce-cand-cresti-mare.html' title='Berea nu e  mai dulce cand cresti mare'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-1946493762576621117</id><published>2008-09-13T03:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T04:22:13.462-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Formatare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SMugWySmgWI/AAAAAAAAAMc/RnCzrYOp-ns/s1600-h/Poupee_Vaudou_by_Hito76.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SMugWySmgWI/AAAAAAAAAMc/RnCzrYOp-ns/s400/Poupee_Vaudou_by_Hito76.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245462504320434530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asta fac eu in weekend - ma formatez. uneori imi reuseste, uneori ma concentrez atat de tare pe acest fapt incat ies din weekend mai obosita decat am intrat. De cand cu noul job am reinceput sa apreciez aceste doua zile. Fac curat in casa cu mai multa sarguinta, merg cu drag la cumparaturi, frec aragazul si chiuveta mai cu spor, deschid mai des cuptorul. Sunt cliepele mele de formatare. Un film, un ceai si casa mea.&lt;br /&gt;Casa mea e plina de margele si genti. E o casa mobilata comunist, dar imi e atat de draga incat nu pot sa ma imaginez stand intr-o casa ikea. Mi-e frica de casele in care fiecare detaliu a fost mai intai desenat pe hartie, in care pana si locul tau este foarte bine stabilit, o casa in dungi, linii drepte, culori mono si miros fresh de la pulverizatoare.  daca rata sinuciderilor va creste va fi pentru ca oamenii nu isi mai personalizeaza casele, nu le coloreaza, nu fac dezodine si duc o viata de plastic.&lt;br /&gt;mi-e frica de acesti oameni. corecti pana in maduva oaselor, monocromi, cu gesturi si ganduri studiate, cu viata ca un scenariu. oameni care stiu azi ce vor face peste trei luni. oamenicare nu gresesc su nu iarta, oameni robotizati care se sperie cand ceva se schimba, de la locul iaurtului preferat (obligatoriu cu 0% grasime) la raft, pana la vremea de afara.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt partial un om de plastic si eu. dar invii in weekend, dupa ce ma formatez.&lt;br /&gt;EU...nu am calculat niciodata caloriile consumate pe zi si de aceea sunt mai degraba apetisanta si cu forme decat grasa, mie imi place sa spun ca sunt mai curand renoiriana. Nu ma trezesc cu 3 ore inainte de a merge la serviciu pentru a-mi intinde parul sau pentru a-mi face 15 mii de masti, de aceea poate uneori sunt palida dar stiu ca pe fata port pielea mea. Nu am in agenda telefonica niciun numar de la un beauty salon sau maseur sau manichiurista, dar uneori ma inchid in casa pentru rasfat - o baie cu spuma, niste creme si alte alinturi. Nu ma deprim daca nu ajung la coafor sau la sala, nu comentez vedete din reviste si bunul sau prostul lor gust in alegerea partenerilor si hainelor. Nu am haine pe care sa le fi cumparat si sa nu le fi purtat niciodata, nu am 5 perechi de incaltaminte pe sezon si nu frecventez cu regularitate magazinele. Nu pot intretine o discutie mai lunga de 5 minute despre haine, genti, pantofi, cosmetice, cure de slabire. Probabil de aceea sunt mai degraba prietenoasa decat cocheta. Dar.... sunt eu.&lt;br /&gt;Vie, fara masca si fara o tabla de sah in cap unde miscarile sunt gata stiute. EU&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-1946493762576621117?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/1946493762576621117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=1946493762576621117&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1946493762576621117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1946493762576621117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/09/formatare.html' title='Formatare'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SMugWySmgWI/AAAAAAAAAMc/RnCzrYOp-ns/s72-c/Poupee_Vaudou_by_Hito76.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4981335303911865164</id><published>2008-08-26T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T05:26:48.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Magazin cu lucruri buburuzesti</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SLKjIdlN7gI/AAAAAAAAAMU/e1QfK0f7m9U/s1600-h/frontdoor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238428682360319490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SLKjIdlN7gI/AAAAAAAAAMU/e1QfK0f7m9U/s400/frontdoor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Multe rafturi, aglomeratie de maruntisuri, miros de lemn si fructe uscate. Incaperea are geamuri mari, totusi nu e suficient luminata. Nu este un magazin pentru grabiti. Cine vrea sa intre, sa gasesca din prima ce cauta, sa cumpere si sa plece, este invitat nici macar sa nu piarda vremea sa intre. Cumparatorul nu e un om oarecare. Stie sa asculte stie sa si povesteasca. In spatele unei tejghele o doamna cu palarie cu boruri mari ureaza bun-venit celor care stiu sa aprecieze un asemnea loc, stiu sa-si (sa-i) acorde timpul necesar. Un raft cu fructe uscate, un raft cu seminte de tot felul, un raft cu jeleuri si alte bomboane cu rom, in rest cutii, multe cutii cu ceai. Cateva mese, doar vreo doua, pentru cei care isi doresc sa isi formateze mintea. Ceainice, multe ceainice, de vanzare si de folosire, din ceramica, din portelan, din fonta, colorate sau gri, cu dungi, cu flori cu libelule, langa niste cani mari sau mici cu toarta sau japoneze. Si margele. multe margele, vase cu sticlute colorate, vase plate si vase adanci, transparente, asezate mai la soare sa se reflecte razele in sutele de bilute colorate. margele, multe margele - pretioase prin munca depusa mai mult decat prin materialul folosit, copilaresti pe care nu le pui la o camasa alba si la pantalon cu dunga, dar care pot fi primite la un gat de fata purtatoare de rochii vaporoase. O pisica torcand in vitrina. Nu e de vanzare, isi merita fulgii in forma de pestisori pentru ca toarce si aduce linsite locului. Niste fotografii de pe vremea cand a fost inventat aparatul de fotografiat si muzica in surdina, o mireiile mathieu graseind dupa Milord-ul ei, o lisa ekdahl - cantandu-si iubirea in suedeza, o Valeria pe note rusesti. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Magazin de lucruri buburuzasti - bine ai venit/Te mai asteptam pe la noi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4981335303911865164?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4981335303911865164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4981335303911865164&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4981335303911865164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4981335303911865164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/02/magazin-cu-lucruri-buburuzesti.html' title='Magazin cu lucruri buburuzesti'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SLKjIdlN7gI/AAAAAAAAAMU/e1QfK0f7m9U/s72-c/frontdoor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7752387794039852820</id><published>2008-08-14T00:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T02:34:54.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre alt fel de oameni</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SKP8ND4AuCI/AAAAAAAAAI8/MF64I96Ac2g/s1600-h/POSTER-IDEOIDEIS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234304493243381794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SKP8ND4AuCI/AAAAAAAAAI8/MF64I96Ac2g/s400/POSTER-IDEOIDEIS.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uneori ma iau cu ale mele si uit sa ma uit imprejur. Iar cand ajung sa imi indrept privirea catre cei care ma inconjoara, nu pot sa nu raman fascinata. Ieri am admirat niste tineri cu varste cuprinse intre 15 si 20 de ani. Nu eram singura care s-a simtit mica in fata unor copii. Ca mine era o sala plina de copii de varsta lor, dar si de adulti cu un nume in cultura romaneasca. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ieri am fost la gala de decernare a premiilor Ideo Ideis - festivalul de teatru tanar din Alexandria. Evenimentul e organizat de 40 de tineri condusi de un "consiliu" de 12 tineri, prezidati de doi tineri-minune (Andreea Bortun si Alexandru Ion). Scurtand povestea in doua cuvinte, as spune: SE POATE! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se poate ca niste tineri pasionati sa schimbe fata unui oras mai mult mort decat viu, mai mult manelizat si minifustizat decat cultivat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se poate ca teatrul de adolescenti si amatori sa schimbe destine si sa deschida carari noi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se poate ca pentru o seara sa ma treaca fiorii si sa ma simt electrocutata de emotii, pana la lacrimi (ca mine au mai fost inca vreo 100 de persoane).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se poate ca niste oameni cu nume si greutate in cultura romaneasca sa isi rupa o saptamana din programul lor sa vina la Alexandria sa jurizeze spectacolele, dar mai ales sa premieze pe toti si pe fiecare in parte pentru entuziasm, pentru nonconformism, pentru dorinta de schimbare, dar si pentru schimbare, pentru putere de voina si perseverenta si pur si simplu pentru faptul ca exista.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se poate sa fii puternic fara sa iti pierzi omenia si verticalitatea, ba mai mult sa ii inspiri si pe altii sa fie la fel ca tine, sa fie mai buni decat tine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;SE POATE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cateva ore petrecute alaturi de ei mi-au dat cele mai intense emotii pozitive din ultima vreme.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Emotiile mele (egocentriste):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;M-am simtit mica. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mi-a fost rusine ca nu le-am fost alaturi pe cat ar fi meritat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Imi doresc sa ii ajut mai mult la anul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ii vreau de prieteni.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7752387794039852820?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7752387794039852820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7752387794039852820&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7752387794039852820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7752387794039852820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/08/despre-alt-fel-de-oameni.html' title='Despre alt fel de oameni'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SKP8ND4AuCI/AAAAAAAAAI8/MF64I96Ac2g/s72-c/POSTER-IDEOIDEIS.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-1205367852395835238</id><published>2008-08-12T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T14:10:19.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>definitii</title><content type='html'>Sunt insula de liniste intr-un univers haotic si agitat&lt;br /&gt;Sunt ploaia de vara dupa o saptamana de canicula&lt;br /&gt;Sunt inghititura de apa dupa o felie generoasa de tort&lt;br /&gt;Sunt dimineata racoroasa in sezonul de catifea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunt femeia puternica din umbra unui barbat puternic&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-1205367852395835238?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/1205367852395835238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=1205367852395835238&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1205367852395835238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1205367852395835238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/08/definitii.html' title='definitii'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2412441783713183404</id><published>2008-08-12T01:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T04:32:48.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O zi perfecta</title><content type='html'>E de bine - sa ai probleme este in firea lucrurilor, sa ceri ajutor este normal, sa primesti ajutor este ceea ce trebuie sa se intample. Zambind problemele se rezolva pe jumate, gandind prea mult la ele se complica inzecit. Oamenii tristi nu exista pentru buburuza, cine nu stie sa zambeasca nu stie sa zumzaie nu stie sa traiasca. Buburuza se indreapta spre o viata fericita plina de iubire, prietenie, intelegere, caldura si echilibru. Buburuza aproape a ajuns acolo, mai are sa dea o singura data din aripi sa atinga pamantul fagaduintei, il vede e aici, la o aruncatura de bat si aceasta lume a fericirii este a ei! O merita si o va imparti cu cei care merita la fel d emult ca si ea! Buburuza este fericita si as ava fi mereu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2412441783713183404?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2412441783713183404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2412441783713183404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2412441783713183404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2412441783713183404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/08/o-zi-perfecta.html' title='O zi perfecta'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3809895067898325538</id><published>2008-08-10T01:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T01:43:00.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'>text american despre intamplari din tren moldovenesc</title><content type='html'>am facut un drum acasa. pana acum zilele state acasa erau cele care imi aduceau linistea. de aceasta data ceva s-a intamplat in tren. la venire si la plecare. femeia cu care am venita incercat sa treaca ilegal vama bulgaro-greaca prin padure, era cat pe ce sa se afunde intr-o mlastina, unde i-a pierdut incaltamintea, era cat pe ce sa se inece intr-un rau, unde si-a ranit piciorul pana la os si unde i s-au inmuiat toate actele si era foarte aproape sa fie impuscata de la turnurile de veghe de la granita. dar de fiecare data a trecut ... greu sa spun cu bine, dar nu gasesc alta expresie. dupa toate peripetiile a nimerit in inchisoare pentru 2 saptamani, pentru trecere ilegala a frontierei si s-a ales cu interdictie in pasaport din partea ambelor state. femeia mergea la sot, pe care nici macar nu l-a vazut. culmea e ca ar fi putut astepta inca jumate de an si ar fi putut sa treaca legalgranita, pentru ca s-ar fi legalizat sotul. dar nu sunt eu cea care sa judece deciziile oamenilor. singura concluzie pe care a putut femeia s ao traga dupa poveste a fost: nimic nu este mai important decat sanatatea si viata proprie. concluzia mea dupa ce am ascultat in cele mai mici detalii a fost: nicioadata probelemele mele nu vor fi cele mai mari din lume.&lt;br /&gt;la plecare am mers cu alta doamna care parea ca imi raspunde la intrebarile mele fara sa intreb. erau raspunsuri pe care le-am auzit de la multe persoane, dar parca de data asta eram mai pregatita sa le aud. raspunsurile - totul va veni cand va fi timpul si nu cand cred eu ca e timpul, toul ce se intampla ma pregateste pentru ceea ce va urma, daca mi se intampla ceva rau este pentru ca aceasta este un bumerang care mi se intoarce, la fel si cu binele.&lt;br /&gt;cineva ar numi coincidente aceste intalnitri, de aceasta data le numesc semne. aveam nevoie de ele. le-am primit. imi ramane sa le folosesc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3809895067898325538?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3809895067898325538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3809895067898325538&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3809895067898325538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3809895067898325538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/08/text-american-despre-intamplari-din.html' title='text american despre intamplari din tren moldovenesc'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6620580120716511609</id><published>2008-08-04T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T11:22:43.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Singuratatea nu se acopera cu fond de ten</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6620580120716511609?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6620580120716511609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6620580120716511609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6620580120716511609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6620580120716511609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/08/singuratatea-nu-se-acopera-cu-fond-de.html' title='Singuratatea nu se acopera cu fond de ten'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2356492693940481892</id><published>2008-08-04T03:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T00:17:26.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Generatia ovarelor polichisitice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SJboABcRWPI/AAAAAAAAAI0/o3m-LQ9N93c/s1600-h/2580168491_d225a88833.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230623104322066674" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SJboABcRWPI/AAAAAAAAAI0/o3m-LQ9N93c/s400/2580168491_d225a88833.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Independente, stilate, inteligente, fumatoare (sau nu), iubitoare de calatorii (peste mari si tari sau la tara, unde sa citeasca la umbra unei capite), emancipate, cu studii destule, cu mult, foarte mult bun-gust si cu destul bun-simt, cu simtul umorului, uneori cu limbaj buruienos, talentate, consumatoare de Sex&amp;amp;the City, dar si de Alexandru Balasescu, Nicolae Steinhardt sau Lauren Weisberger (si lista se poate lungiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii cu autori mai siroposi sau mai seriosi), cu o destul de vasta cultura generala si educatie cinematografica, cochete, dar si masculine (uneori), echilibrate si pe tocuri de 10 centimetri si pe balerini, talentate la combinare de culori si haine care mai de care mai ciudate, care impreuna sa arate BETON!&lt;br /&gt;Asa suntem NOI - generatia femeilor cu ovare polichisitice - femei care mereu sunt intrebate de ce sunt singure (ca doar destepte, frumoase si haioase sunt!), femei care stiu sa gateasca, dar nu fac mare caz din asta, pentru ca EL nu asta ar trebui sa caute la o femeie ca noi. Femei care stau foarte bine pe propriile picioare si nu isi cauta un EL pentru a-i putea folosi cartea de credit (de multa vreme o au pe a lor proprie), ci mai degraba pentru a le folosi urechile (care sa le asculte), bratele (care sa le dea siguranta), pieptul (care sa le aduca linistea), mintea (care sa le provoace) si da, nu in ultimul rand, trupul intreg (care sa le faca sa se simta dorite) - ele cunosc instructiunile de folosire a tuturor instrumentelor sus-mentionate.&lt;br /&gt;Femeile cu ovare polichisitice isi duc soarta si si-o accepta, ba mai fac si haz de necaz uneori.&lt;br /&gt;Asa sunt mare parte dintre femeile pe care le cunosc, le admir si le tin aproape - sunt ca mine si vorbesc pe limba mea, suntem o comunitate, suntem o sala de concert plina, suntem oriunde si oriunde suntem admirate. Cine nu sunt ca noi vor sa fie ca noi, iar noi, declarat, sau in tacere, ne dorim sa nu mai fim asa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2356492693940481892?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2356492693940481892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2356492693940481892&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2356492693940481892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2356492693940481892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/08/generatia-ovarelor-polichisitce.html' title='Generatia ovarelor polichisitice'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SJboABcRWPI/AAAAAAAAAI0/o3m-LQ9N93c/s72-c/2580168491_d225a88833.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2645975663174990803</id><published>2008-07-24T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T14:45:38.799-07:00</updated><title type='text'>jurnalul meu in buzunarul cuiva</title><content type='html'>as vrea sa imi tii tu jurnalul. eu sa scriu si tu sa pastrezi gandurile mele scrijelite. as vrea sa scriu cu adresa, sa incetez monogul, sa sparg tacerea dintre doi.&lt;br /&gt;as vrea sa iti tin jurnalul. sa ma imbratisezi in cuvinte, sa ma invelesti in epistole.&lt;br /&gt;ti-am zis vreodata ca locul meu e la tine in brate? te vreau alaturi si numai zidul ridicat de time ma tine ma tine in alta tara decat esti tu, in alta lume decat a ta, in alt univers decat al tau.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2645975663174990803?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2645975663174990803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2645975663174990803&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2645975663174990803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2645975663174990803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/07/jurnalul-meu-in-buzunarul-cuiva.html' title='jurnalul meu in buzunarul cuiva'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7648809211976872484</id><published>2008-07-20T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T13:44:10.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nimic nou</title><content type='html'>Nu am ceva extraorsinar sa spun, dar si lucruile cunoscute trebuie repetate uneori. Ma simt bine alaturi de un om, ma linisteste si ma face sa ma simt eu buburuzoasa, dar ceva ne tine departe - nu stiu ce e cel ceva distanta fizica sau distanta impusa de el. Il vreau alaturi, macar pentru a ma convinge ca locul lui nu e langa mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7648809211976872484?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7648809211976872484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7648809211976872484&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7648809211976872484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7648809211976872484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/07/nimic-nou.html' title='Nimic nou'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6926406593472694114</id><published>2008-07-15T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T14:41:37.298-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pareri pe cap de locuitor</title><content type='html'>Pareri, fiecare are pareri. Mi se pare, mi se nazare, parerea mea. comentarii ca sa nu taci, sa nu isi faca cineva parerea ca nu ai pareri. pareri in dialog, agresive, pareri pe care nu le mai spui, ca sa se auda mai bine decat a altora trebuie sa te lupti pentru ele. nu castiga cine are dreptate, ci cine isi tipa parerea mai tare. Imi plac blogurile, nu imi plac parerile sub posturi aplicate doar pentru a emite o parere, a bifa prezenta, a-ti pune numele sub text. Pareri sub articolele online ale revistelor, agresive, deloc constructive - pareri despre oamenii din jur, despre persoane pe care le stim, dra mai ales despre persoane pe care nu le stim. o parere, inca o parere, a treia parere si iata si prejudecata. e rusinos sa nu ai o parere in ziua de azi. e rusinos sa nu te poti pronunta cu privire la un subiect. Tacerea e rusinoasa. E vremea parerilor!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6926406593472694114?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6926406593472694114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6926406593472694114&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6926406593472694114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6926406593472694114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/07/pareri-pe-cap-de-locuitor.html' title='Pareri pe cap de locuitor'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7802036682011296909</id><published>2008-07-07T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T11:37:25.825-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vamile mele, victoriile mele</title><content type='html'>in curand am sa fac 10 ani de cand am devenit experta in vami. Mai intai au fost vamile intre cele doua state-surori, intre acasa si acasa, intre Chisinau si Bucuresti. apoi, una cate una, au inceput vamile interioare. Pot nu pot sa trec examenul la latina, pot nu pot sa imi dau bacul, pot nu pot sa duc la capat o facultate, pot nu pot sa imi fac meseria. si asa la infinit.&lt;br /&gt;vami.&lt;br /&gt;in viata am ridicat vami artificiale, exact ca cea intre cele doua case ale mele. artificiale, pentru ca in mod natural nu ar trebui sa existe, fiecare vama disparea fantomatic dupa ce treceam de bariera si deseori mi-am pus intrebarea daca ele au fost reale intr-un moment sau altul al vietii mele.&lt;br /&gt;sunt la o noua vama acum si evident mi se pare de netrecut, zilnic lupt sa imi demonstrez mie si celor care ma fixeaza cu privirea ca pot, ca port un bagaj care imi permite trecerea legala. Inca lupt. azi ieri si maine. ar trebui, desigur, dupa atatea vami trecute cu brio sa nu ma mai afecteze una in plus, insa fiecare e diferita, e cu specficul ei si ma solicita.&lt;br /&gt;POT! stiu asta. am trecut acolo unde altii s-au inecat, am purtat victorii unde altii au cazut, am mers mai departe cand altii au batut in retragere. De ce? pentru ca pentru mine cale intoarsa nu e. am reuntat la multe pe drum si nu vreau sa fie zadarnic. am ars poduri sa pot merge mai departe fara sa intorc privirea, am ars vise, sa aprind vise mai mari, am ars energie sa ajung de la numarul 32 la numarul 28 la blugi.&lt;br /&gt;Victoriile mele nu sunt ca vamile mele. Victoriile mele chiar exista, ele chiar ma sustin si chiar ma fac ceea ce sunt azi. O SUPRAVIETUITOARE care nu a calat pe cadavre sa fie unde se afla acum. A mers cu pasi mici, deseori nesiguri, pe o sfoara sau pe dumuri mlastinoase. Iar toate aceste reusite, mici pentru unii, mari pentru altii, sunt ale mele si ma fac asa cum ma vedeti - o printesa cu vointa de fier, o papusa care si-a impus disciplina militara, o fata simpla care isi cauta printre milioane de persoane necunoscute una, care sa ii fie scumpa si draga, una care sa ii spuna buna seara iubito, cand paseste fara energie pragul casei, una, care sa o ia seara in brate ca sa adoarma fara vreo grija.&lt;br /&gt;mai mult decat orice mi-e frica sa nu ma trezesc intr-o zi ca toate victoriile mele sunt a la Pius.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7802036682011296909?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7802036682011296909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7802036682011296909&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7802036682011296909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7802036682011296909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/07/vamile-mele-victoriile-mele.html' title='Vamile mele, victoriile mele'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6779583776074270286</id><published>2008-06-14T13:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T14:35:29.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce faci?</title><content type='html'>Mereu am avut ezitari in a raspunde acestei intrebari. La inceput raspundeam prin actiunea pe care o faceam in acel moment (curat cartofi, ma pensez, iata fug acolo si acolo sa fac aia si aia). Apoi am scurtat raspunsulpana la &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bine, &lt;/span&gt;ca asa am vazut ca se practica - raspuns inchis si expeditiv, care nu te indeamna sa continui discutia.&lt;br /&gt;Sa va raspund la aceasta intrebare cum as raspunde unui prieten drag, care stie ca eu pot povesti ce fac pe bune fara sa fie necesar sa ma intrebe.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt o buburuza, nimic nou pana aici. Dar stiti de ce am aripi rosii? Simplu pentru ca sunt emotiva. Traiesc emotii, respir emotii, ma hranesc cu emotii. cand acestea dispar intorc muntii sa le regasesc si daca nu le aflu, fug. alerg, alerg, pana dau de noi emotii.&lt;br /&gt;sunt in perioada in care dupa un gol emotiv am nimerit intr-un lac al emotiilor. Lacul e atat de mare, incat acum, un pic atrofiata de lipsa, nu stiu sa le fac fata si ma obosesc.&lt;br /&gt;Azi am facut lucruri buburuzesti. Am mers la iarba verde cu trei baieti care nu ma intereseaza in niciun fel, ceea ce m-a facut sa nu imi pese ce vor gandi despre mine. Mi-am pus cerceii cu ursuleti in urechi, geanta rosie-stropitoare peste umar si sapca rosie. Si cu un aer je m-en fiche-ist am urcat intr-o Dacie de 15 ani vechime care se dezmembra, de parca as fi urcat intr-o limuzina.&lt;br /&gt;La iarba verde am mancat pe saturate, iar apoi toata oboseala acumulata a iesit din mine prin cantec si dans. Am topait 3 ore fara pauza, am urlat cat m-au tinut corzile vocale, iar cand am obosit am cazut epuizata pe scaunul masinii si am inceput sa cant melodii uitate, dar amintitte. Nu stiu de unde imi veneau cuvintele, erau acolo intr-un sertar prafuit si niciodata deschis pana acum.&lt;br /&gt;frica, supararea, dorul, iubirile neimplinite, tensiunea, presiunea - toate au rabufnit vulcanic si s-au prelins din mine prin urlet, dans si cantec. am fost beata fara sa fi baut, am fost drogata fara sa ma fi drogat. Am fost o buburuza care nu a mai putut zbura din cauza emotiilor de aceea a avut nevoie sa scuture praful de pe aripioare sa se relanseze cu mai mare avant, cu mai mare dor de viata cu mai mare dorinta de pasiune.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6779583776074270286?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6779583776074270286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6779583776074270286&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6779583776074270286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6779583776074270286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/06/ce-faci.html' title='Ce faci?'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4942972507078370466</id><published>2008-06-09T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T04:08:42.405-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre mine cu drag</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SE2zwN9S8SI/AAAAAAAAAIs/5Y_YaKcGLb4/s1600-h/audrey-hepburn-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210017984899379490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SE2zwN9S8SI/AAAAAAAAAIs/5Y_YaKcGLb4/s400/audrey-hepburn-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;azi am inchis o usa si am deschis alta si, de parca nu era suficient, m-am intors sa ma revad cu oamenii lasati dupa o a treia usa inchisa acum ceva vreme. Mai explicit, azi am anuntat preavizul de la un job si am zis da, de stare civila, altui job si spre seara m-am revazut cu colegii de la primul loc de munca. s-au intamplat multe.&lt;br /&gt;azi cei carora le-am spus nu s-au razbunat zicand ca ma supraapreciez si ca am fost supraevaluata, iar eu, in semn de protest, mi-am aplicat un outfit de imprumut si, in pielea mea, dar in haine straine, am mers la concert. M-am simtit Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany-s, si ea purta identitate de imprumut, fiind foarte bine in pielea ei. ajunsa acasa am inceput sa dansez pe melodiile&lt;br /&gt;Lola (&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kMRbUD5XIjk&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kMRbUD5XIjk&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;  )&lt;br /&gt;si Lola (&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ig3g7U8wDM"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ig3g7U8wDM&lt;/a&gt; ).&lt;br /&gt;sunt foarte bine! am incaput intr-o rochie (little black dress) 36 cumparata pentru fotomodele. am imprumutat accesorii de la cineva si mi-am facut ochii cu tus verde. si am fost EU. Mi s-au deschis noi dorinte, de fapt nu sut noi, tot alea sunt, anuntate si intr-un post de acum ceva vreme - sa redevin o buburuza zumzaitoare, sa fac investii intr-o rochita audrey hepburn, sa ma bucur ca de acum incolo imi voi permite niste ore la cosmetica, niste ore la masaj, niste ore pentru rasfat, sa conteze mai putin ce zic altii, ca pana la urma conteaza ideea cu care traiesti tu despre tine si nu ce spun altii. si orice ar fi, raul duce spre bine. cred ca de azi am trecut din linia neagra spre linia alba a vietii si suna tare bine viitorul asa incert cum e. ei, iata deja am scris un post de buburuza zumzaitoare. e cazul sa ma opresc sa ma demachiez si sa ma bag in pat. maine va fi o zi frumoasa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4942972507078370466?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4942972507078370466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4942972507078370466&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4942972507078370466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4942972507078370466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/06/despre-mine-cu-drag.html' title='Despre mine cu drag'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/SE2zwN9S8SI/AAAAAAAAAIs/5Y_YaKcGLb4/s72-c/audrey-hepburn-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3312483635219742750</id><published>2008-06-09T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T07:41:42.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Resemnare mioritica</title><content type='html'>Azi am anuntat preavizul, care a fost primit, asa cum ziceam si in titlu, cu o resemnare mioritica. Au urmat cateva sfaturi parintesti, un sarut pe frunte si concluzia ca apare pe piata inca un concurent. Macar ce imi sta in putere sa schimb, ca in rest, ieri la prima intalnire am fost intrebata daca vreau copii. Parca totusi inca nu vreau schimbari atat de mari in viata.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3312483635219742750?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3312483635219742750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3312483635219742750&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3312483635219742750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3312483635219742750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/06/resemnare-mioritica.html' title='Resemnare mioritica'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6783376061313545306</id><published>2008-06-03T13:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T13:59:01.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rebranding</title><content type='html'>Mi-am dat seama ca s-ar putea sa nu fiu o buburuza, ca m-am pozitionat gresit. azi dimineata m-a lovit acest gand. cred de fapt ca sunt o caprioara. si atunci m-am uitat in oglinda si am vazut. Am vazut! am vazut niste ochi mari. apoi am iesit pe strada si am simtit. Am simtit! am simtit cum imi port trupul cu mandrie. apoi m-am ascultat. M-am ascultat! m-am ascultat si mi-am auzit inima iesind din cosul pieptului de frica. Da! am toate simptomele! Sunt o caprioara, adorabila si eleganta pe dinafara si o mare lasa pe dinauntru. in contradictia asta traiesc. de ceva vreme am de scris niste texte si in parioadele de relaxare imi ies de sub condeiul incins fel de fel de expresii care se incapataneaza sa iasa cand fac acea literartura la comanda, sau cum o numeam eu, sadra brown in momentele ei proaste. si asta un simptom ca sufar de caprioricism. admirata de toti cei din jur, dar concentrata de a se apara si fara timp sau macar gand sa se bucure ca e un idol pentru unii, o faptura demna de a fi protejata pentru altii. asa sunt. am nevoie de protectie, dar mi-e frica sa o caut sa o cer si in final sa o obtin, pentru ca atunci imi voi pierde ceea ce am acum mai drag - padurea. sunt o buburuza care intr-o dimineata s-a trezit caprioara si inca nu stie ce sa faca in noua ei piele. va spuneam, o lasa in piele distinsa. Printesa altfel spus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6783376061313545306?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6783376061313545306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6783376061313545306&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6783376061313545306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6783376061313545306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/06/rebranding.html' title='Rebranding'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6444819404801037361</id><published>2008-04-21T06:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T06:34:30.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>EU: oricum sunt intr-o amorteala admirabila&lt;br /&gt;EU: din care nu imi mai revin&lt;br /&gt;cineva: cum adica?&lt;br /&gt;EU: asa&lt;br /&gt;EU: in general&lt;br /&gt;EU: sunt ca un copac care desi stie ca ar fi cazul sa infloreasca mai sta oleaca cu frunzele in muguri&lt;br /&gt;cineva: asta cum sa inteleg&lt;br /&gt;cineva: copacul am inteles ce face, dar tu?&lt;br /&gt;EU: pai asta fac si eu&lt;br /&gt;EU: hibernez&lt;br /&gt;cineva: pe mine ma doare capul de cateva zile&lt;br /&gt;EU: sunt intr-o amorteala&lt;br /&gt;EU: de nu pot nici macar schita emotii&lt;br /&gt;EU: ma bucur rar, ultima bucurie a fost ieri&lt;br /&gt;EU: stii care a fost?&lt;br /&gt;cineva: care?&lt;br /&gt;EU: am mers 20 de metri pe bicicleta (nu am mai urcat pe bicicleta de vreo 10 ani) si nu am cazut. ametitoare senzatie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6444819404801037361?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6444819404801037361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6444819404801037361&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6444819404801037361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6444819404801037361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/04/eu-oricum-sunt-intr-o-amorteala.html' title=''/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3884327443472130769</id><published>2008-04-08T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T07:49:23.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Un prieten vechi</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;L-am văzut pentru prima dată într-o zi neobisnuit de însorită de 1 decembrie. Era primitor. Chiar dacă muzeele erau închise, Brasovul a reusit să se facă plăcut, prin strădu&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma;"&gt;ț&lt;/span&gt;ele pavate, prin cur&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma;"&gt;ț&lt;/span&gt;ile lui interioare, prin razele mângâietoare&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;de soare asternute peste Pia&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma;"&gt;ț&lt;/span&gt;a Sfatului, prin fotografiile superbe cu care m-am întors după acea călătorie. Brasovul mi-a devenit prieten.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;De atunci l-am vizitat de nenumărate ori în toate cele patru anotimpuri. Am o cafenea preferata, unde beau mereu ceai negru, am un magazin, unde mă recunosc vânzătoarele, chiar si după trei luni lipsă, am un restaurant unde sunt de-a casei. Fotografiile însă s-au rărit, iar vremea frumoasă uneori ne-a ocolit pe ambii.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Astă primăvară am revenit la Brasov să fac un reportaj. S-ar părea că nu as mai fi avut ce să descopăr, dar nu a fost asa. &lt;span style="" lang="PT-BR"&gt;Strădu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma;" lang="PT-BR"&gt;ț&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="PT-BR"&gt;ele pavate, cur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma;" lang="PT-BR"&gt;ț&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="PT-BR"&gt;ile interioare si razele zgârcite de soare de martie au trezit vechi amintiri. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;La o promenadă de primăvară am descoperit un vechi prieten – Brasovul.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3884327443472130769?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3884327443472130769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3884327443472130769&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3884327443472130769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3884327443472130769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/04/un-prieten-vechi.html' title='Un prieten vechi'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4210262897137237666</id><published>2008-03-31T06:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T06:31:48.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'>prima seara dupa despartire</title><content type='html'>o prietena: cum te simti?&lt;br /&gt;Eu: suparilici&lt;br /&gt;Eu: ieri am stat pana la 1&lt;br /&gt;Eu: si am vorbit cu mama&lt;br /&gt;Eu: abia ma tineam sa nu plang ca ma credea nebuna, i-am zos ca m-am despartit&lt;br /&gt;Eu: se intristase si ea&lt;br /&gt;Eu: apoi am vorbit cu prietenul de la Torino&lt;br /&gt;Eu: apoi a aparut el sa ma roage sa ii dau numele de filme pe care le are el de la mine&lt;br /&gt;Eu: si atat&lt;br /&gt;Eu: nu am discutat&lt;br /&gt;Eu: in fine&lt;br /&gt;Eu: un bocet un ras un bocet un ras&lt;br /&gt;Eu: si am adormit cu greu&lt;br /&gt;Eu: m-am trezit pustiita&lt;br /&gt;Eu: atat&lt;br /&gt;Eu: si mai sunt&lt;br /&gt;Eu: mici momente de nod in gat&lt;br /&gt;Eu: si iritatia casei goale&lt;br /&gt;Eu: cu urme lasate de la el&lt;br /&gt;Eu: gen o cutie goala de ciocolate&lt;br /&gt;Eu: niste cani de ceai goale&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4210262897137237666?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4210262897137237666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4210262897137237666&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4210262897137237666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4210262897137237666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/03/prima-seara-dupa-despartire.html' title='prima seara dupa despartire'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6396901033285821920</id><published>2008-03-25T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T13:17:44.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nu am un titlu pentru acest text</title><content type='html'>Povestea se repeta. O poveste de dragoste. Ne-am placut din prima. La inceput ne-am comportat cu manusi unul cu celalat, cu atentie la orgolii, frici, experiente precedente. Cand am ajuns sa ne cunoastem suficient, tacerile au incetat sa mai fie jenante, discutiile au incetat sa mai fie superficiale si intiatice si ideea "impreuna pana la adanci batraneti" a inceput sa incolteasca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruptura a venit din senin. Nu am nimic sa iti reprosez. Bifezi multe dintre criteriile mele. Si totusi nu pot sa ma mai imaginez langa tine. Vreau altceva. Nu pot sa iti explic ce, de aceea pot sa inteleg ca nu stii ce sa imi oferi sa ma tii alaturi.  Suntem impreuna din reflex, din obisnuinta, din prietenie si de dragul a ceea ce a fost. Greu m-a fost sa recunosc ca povestea noastra a luat sfarsit si ca e timpul sa impartim un drum in doua, sa nu mai traim trecutul in prezent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De aceea e timpul sa imi caut un alt job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da, este povestea mea si a locului de munca ce mi-a dat incredere in mine, mi-a adus cativa prieteni si multi colegi extraordinari. M-a invatat ca in mai multi lucrul e mai vesel si mai de calitate si timpul trece pe neobservate. Dar am crescut din camasa pe care o port, i-am schimbat nasturii, am mai desfacut-o pe la margini si tot ma sufoca. Nu mai stiu ce sa fac, de aceea plec din aceasta relatie, la fel cum am plecat si din cea mai durata relatie a mea, care de fapt a fost si cea mai fara de cusur, ca un kefir cu fructe: nici acru, cat sa iti ridice pofta de mancare, nici dulce, cat sa ti se faca greata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De maine am sa incep sa imi depun CV-urile ici si colo, in cautarea unei noi idile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6396901033285821920?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6396901033285821920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6396901033285821920&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6396901033285821920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6396901033285821920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/03/nu-am-un-titlu-pentru-acest-text.html' title='Nu am un titlu pentru acest text'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4875505571137945173</id><published>2008-03-14T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T07:44:28.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Umbrele trecutului</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R9qPQM1LmbI/AAAAAAAAAIk/P4dpethZcyk/s1600-h/InShadows.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R9qPQM1LmbI/AAAAAAAAAIk/P4dpethZcyk/s400/InShadows.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177608230100769202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi se intampla oare numai mie? Nu cred! Unii oameni, pe care vreau sa ii sterg definitv din viata mea sau care imi sunt cel putin indiferenti reapar periodic in viata mea. Ca niste umbre ale trecutului. Sa ma rascoleasca, sa imi dea insomnii, sa ma stranga in stomac, sa imi aminteasca de sentimentele vechi ca niste rani neinchise, sau de  regretele venite mai apoi si de dorinta de a nu-i fi intalnit vreodata. Cand stau ascunse imi vad sufletul ca pe o sfera roz, pufoasa si foarte ingenua. In noptile cand isi fac aparitia sufletul meu e un mar mancat de viermi. Umbrele trecutului apar cand mi-e visul mai colorat si somnul mai dulce si viata mai linistita, ca un semn ca ma pandesc, ca nu voi scapa de ele, ca le apartin.&lt;br /&gt;Noaptea au avut loc intorsaturile din viata mea. Noaptea fostii iubiti isi amintesc de mine si ma cauta, ma suna, ma rascolesc, imi ciopartesc sufletul. Cu primele raze ale soarelui, umbrele trecutului prind chipuri umane, ma iau in brate, imi vorbesc, ma asculta, beau ceai cu mine, apoi dispar. Ma lasa ravasita cu patul desfacut si cearsafurile sifonate si adunate bot.&lt;br /&gt;Pana la urmatoarea vizita umbroasa - numai vise placute!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4875505571137945173?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4875505571137945173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4875505571137945173&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4875505571137945173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4875505571137945173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/03/umbrele-trecutului.html' title='Umbrele trecutului'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R9qPQM1LmbI/AAAAAAAAAIk/P4dpethZcyk/s72-c/InShadows.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4133415619147566331</id><published>2008-02-07T02:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T04:10:36.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce imi place in gluma si in serios</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R6rzEO1JpwI/AAAAAAAAAIc/Lg1gnQvdhpA/s1600-h/ist2_844216_like_or_dislike_in_black.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R6rzEO1JpwI/AAAAAAAAAIc/Lg1gnQvdhpA/s400/ist2_844216_like_or_dislike_in_black.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164207176759748354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ce mi-ar placea &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in gluma (dar poate si in serios):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sa ma marit cu un bogatan si sa vad toata lumea pe banii lui.&lt;br /&gt;2. Sa vad cum se impiedica (pe strada, nu in viata) un om care m-a suparat.&lt;br /&gt;3. Sa umplu cosul in supermarket cu toate prostiile, junk-urile, fructele exotice ticsite cu nitrati si sa arunc totul la gunoi cand ies din magazin (fara sa ma gandesc la copiii din Somalia)&lt;br /&gt;4. Sa ploua cu baloane de sapun si sa se sparga pe langa urechile mele.&lt;br /&gt;5. Sa scot toate braduturile, picaturile, inimioarele (si alte forme ale aceluiasi obiect) aromatizatoare din taxiurile din Bucuresti.&lt;br /&gt;6. Sa pot sa dau sonorul mai incet atunci cand jumatate dintre colegii din birou vorbesc la telefon si restul rad si tipa ca in piata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ce imi place si stiu ca e serios:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. cele 10 minute inainte sa intre trenul in gara din orasul meu.&lt;br /&gt;2. Mirosul de acasa cand ii pasesc pragul dupa 3 luni lipsa.&lt;br /&gt;3. Curatenia impecabila de acasa pe care sa o transform in dezordine imediat ce imi desfac valiza.&lt;br /&gt;4. Sa intru in garsoniera mea (in care stau cu chirie) dupa ce am dormit 3 zile prin vecini si sa gasesc toate asa cum le-am lasat.&lt;br /&gt;5. Ploaia torentiala de mai.&lt;br /&gt;6. Sa desfac un pulovar si sa aud sunetul ochiurilor care se destrama si apoi sa transform kilometri de ata in doua ghemuri mari si doua mai mici.&lt;br /&gt;7. Sa fac margele in timp ce ma uit la un film pe care il stiu pe dinafara.&lt;br /&gt;8. Sa pic lata si sa respir din toti plamanii dupa ce timp de doua zile am adus la stralucire (ca o cenusareasa) casuta in care stau.&lt;br /&gt;9. Sa beau ceai cu dulceata si biscuiti in timp ce rasfoiesc in pat o revista de femei (obligatoriu sa comentez rautacios titlurile articolelor)&lt;br /&gt;10. Sa ma trezesc gadilata de o raza de soare (numai nu cu noaptea in cap) sau sa ma trezesc si sa simt ca afara e frig iar mie sub patura mi-e foarte cald si sa nu trebuiasca sa ies din culcus.&lt;br /&gt;11. Sa intru in camera din spate din casa bunicii si sa gasesc pe masa musetel si flori de tei puse la uscat - sa ma ia ameteala de la mirosul acestor flori.&lt;br /&gt;12. Sa caut printre bijuteriile mamei si ale bunicii si sa le asez la loc&lt;br /&gt;13. Sa imi arate mama rochite de pe cand aveam 2 ani si sa ma mir ca am fost candva atat de mica.&lt;br /&gt;14. Sa dorm prima noapte in patul de acasa si spre dimineata sa simt in semisomn cum toti ai casei merg in varfuri  sa nu ma trezeasca.&lt;br /&gt;15. Sa zac pe-un camp cu floarea soarelui.&lt;br /&gt;16. Sa calc pe zapada proaspat asezata si sa o aud cum geme sub bocancii mei, sau si mai bine sa cad in zapada si sa astept sa ma acopere ninsoarea si mai traziu alba si un pic inghetata sa ma intorc acasa si sa imi arda fata dela ger, sa ma bag sub patura si mai departe vezi punctul 9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uff... sunt multe, foarte multe, asa ca am sa mai spun si alta data.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4133415619147566331?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4133415619147566331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4133415619147566331&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4133415619147566331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4133415619147566331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/02/ce-imi-place-in-gluma-si-in-serios.html' title='Ce imi place in gluma si in serios'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R6rzEO1JpwI/AAAAAAAAAIc/Lg1gnQvdhpA/s72-c/ist2_844216_like_or_dislike_in_black.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4670718500244958295</id><published>2008-01-30T14:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T14:16:59.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O bijuterie prafuita</title><content type='html'>Iata ce am descoperit printre file galbene:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa pling&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa-i zimbesc&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat s-o iubesc&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa tac&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa scriu&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa ma invat pe mine&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa fiu singura&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa o apreciez&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa o urasc&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa ma iubesc&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa ma urasc&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat ca si 4 pereti ascund o lume intreaga&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat ca universul e in mintea fiecaruia&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat cum sa nu invidiez&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat cum sa inteleg lumea&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat cum sa ma ascund de soare&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa vad curcubeul in lumina luminarii&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa inving timpul&lt;br /&gt;singuratatea m-a invatat sa vad pe altcineva in oglinda&lt;br /&gt; dar&lt;br /&gt; singuratatea nu m-a invatat sa traiesc&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4670718500244958295?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4670718500244958295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4670718500244958295&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4670718500244958295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4670718500244958295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/01/o-bijuterie-prafuita.html' title='O bijuterie prafuita'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7905478879204071825</id><published>2008-01-28T01:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T02:22:02.408-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ganduri la drum lung</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R52sS-1JpvI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Xpj2D1bI4jQ/s1600-h/22974559.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R52sS-1JpvI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Xpj2D1bI4jQ/s400/22974559.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160470190140008178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E ciudat cata singuratate ma poate coplesi cand sunt la drum lung. Cele mai frumoase declaratii de dragoste le-am scris in tren. Cele mai groase franghii ale dorului mi-au strans cosul pieptului in noapte urmarind drumul infinit ce mi se deschide in fata.&lt;br /&gt;Ceea ce ar trebui sa fie promisiunea unui nou inceput in realitate e un hau spre trecut care se deschide necrutator in drum.&lt;br /&gt;Inconjurata de doua ziare, o carte, un mp3 player si de doi colegi de drumetie sunt de fapt singura in fata amintirilor. Le urasc. Sunt prea acutite, prea inutile, prea ... oricum vreti voi.&lt;br /&gt;In drum, in tactul rotilor de tren amintirile se strecoara smecher din buzunarul ascuns din suflet, pe care il credeam bine zavorat, si imi musca cu nesat din firea mea, din increderea mea din tot ce am eu mai optimist in mine.&lt;br /&gt;In drum mi se umple sufletul de nevoia de a spune tot ce simt pentru o lume intreaga si pentru fiecare om in parte. Simt ca fiecare om care a fost doar pasager in viata mea are dreptul sa stie ce a insemnat pentru mine, ca el, cel lipsit de importanta in zilele obisnuite, la drum lung devine brusc aproape si drag si acut de important.&lt;br /&gt;In tren simt dorinta netarmuita sa imi cer scuze de la toti cei carora le-am atins dureros sufletul, intentionat sau din prostie.&lt;br /&gt;In tren simt nevoia sa traiesc cu porii sentimentali deschisi pana la sufocare, cu un consum nebun de energie, dar si cu bucuria de a fi vie cu adevarat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7905478879204071825?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7905478879204071825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7905478879204071825&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7905478879204071825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7905478879204071825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/01/ganduri-la-drum-lung.html' title='Ganduri la drum lung'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R52sS-1JpvI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Xpj2D1bI4jQ/s72-c/22974559.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-9058129775690551817</id><published>2008-01-23T07:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T07:50:16.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revin, promit</title><content type='html'>Cand se va linisti tzunami-ul de ganduri care imi umplu capul am sa scriu ceva. Acum insa toate sunt prea ametite sa le inteleg eu, d-apoi sa le si scriu pe intelesul meu si al oricui citeste ce indrug eu pe aici. Asadar, promit sa revin - someday, sometimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-9058129775690551817?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/9058129775690551817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=9058129775690551817&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/9058129775690551817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/9058129775690551817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/01/revin-promit.html' title='Revin, promit'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6431564197667210071</id><published>2008-01-17T05:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T06:14:19.858-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Din lumea interioara spre lumea exterioara</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R49isLVwYxI/AAAAAAAAAIM/LQDe96OHgww/s1600-h/AC091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R49isLVwYxI/AAAAAAAAAIM/LQDe96OHgww/s320/AC091.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156448609460314898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azi am inceput sa vreau lucruri. Lucruri care sa nu te implice, care sa nu ma duca nici pe departe cu gandul la tine. Lucruri pentru sufletul meu. Ceva s-a rasturnat undeva in mine, dupa un dialog si acum am revenit la dorintele mele de altadata.&lt;br /&gt;Vreau sa vad Praga si Viena - si am sa le vad!&lt;br /&gt;Vreau la patinoar macar o data in aceasta iarna - si am sa merg!&lt;br /&gt;Vreau la teatru cat mai des posibil - si am sa ajung acolo!&lt;br /&gt;Vreau sa fac pilates - si voi face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faceti cunostinta! &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Bu&lt;/span&gt;uuuuuuuuu&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;bu&lt;/span&gt;uuuuuuu&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;ru&lt;/span&gt;uuuuuuuuu&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;za&lt;/span&gt;aaaaaaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cea cu aripile redesfacute!&lt;br /&gt;"You're a doll" - mi-a zis cineva azi si apoi a completat, "ca de obicei".&lt;br /&gt;Pai, daca lumea din jurul meu ma vede o papusica, de ce nu as fi cu adevarat una?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6431564197667210071?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6431564197667210071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6431564197667210071&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6431564197667210071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6431564197667210071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/01/din-lumea-interioara-spre-lumea.html' title='Din lumea interioara spre lumea exterioara'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R49isLVwYxI/AAAAAAAAAIM/LQDe96OHgww/s72-c/AC091.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7391210956718794323</id><published>2008-01-16T04:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T01:24:32.621-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ziua noastra (cel mai lung text pe care l-am scris vreodata)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R44p3rVwYwI/AAAAAAAAAIE/HXkqWeD2c3Y/s1600-h/DSC04125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R44p3rVwYwI/AAAAAAAAAIE/HXkqWeD2c3Y/s320/DSC04125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156104659889316610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mai vreau o zi pentru noi doi. Una singura in care sa iti arat lumea mea, asa cum nu am avut timp sa ti-o arat pana acum.&lt;br /&gt;Ne va trezi ciripitul pasarilor. Voi deschide geamul si te voi chema sa admiram impreuna pomul de corcoduse inflorit care imi incununeaza fereastra din dormitor.&lt;br /&gt;Voi face apoi un ceai verde cu iasomie pentru mine (gustul acesta imi aminteste de ultima noapte petrecuta in Tunisia, cand am spus adio iubirii mele mediteraneene), pentru tine voi face ceaiul  care iti place cel mai mult - 1001 nopti. Voi turna ceaiul in canitele mele noi si voi pune pe farfurioara fiecaruia cate trei sortimente de biscuiti: cu ovaz si stafide, cu portocale si cu smochine. Imi vei spune ca vei bea ceaiul mai traziu si iti voi da un pahar cu lapte in care vei inmuia biscuitii. Iti voi povesti de ce nu pot sa beau lapte si, ca sa te tachinez, voi desface o rodie si o voi manca ciugulind fiecare bobita. De cand ma stiu mananc astfel rodiile si poate de aceea am rabdare sa insir margele in siraguri lungi.&lt;br /&gt;Ne vom intoarce apoi in dormitor si voi pune filmul "Vacanta la Roma". Ma voi ascunde printre cearsafuri calde inconjurata de cutiute, panglicute, cercelusi, margelute, agatatori si ne vom uita la film. Din cand in cand voi spune replici din film iniantea lui Audrey Hepburn si voi zambi multumita de mine, sau te voi face atent la un detaliu din film sau la un cadru care mi se pare interesant. Vei zambi si poate chiar te vei gandi ca nu gasesti nimic extraordinar in acest film care era la moda cam cand era bunica fata mare. Mai interesant ti se va parea ceea ce mesteresc eu din merceria aciuata in patul meu. Imi vei da sugestii. Pe unele le voi accepta chiar. Cand Audrey Hepburn va primi de la Gregory Peck pachetul cu fotografii voi suspina si voi zambi. Vom inchide calculatorul, ne vom imbraca de oras si te voi duce intr-o plimbare in orasul din lumea mea.&lt;br /&gt;Prima statie - parcul Circului, te voi duce la lotusi si iti voi spune cat de repede au conturat ei lacul din centrul parcului. Vom iesi apoi la Stefan cel Mare si vom merge pe jos pana la Carturesti unde ne vom pierde printre carti, apoi printre CD-uri, apoi eu voi deschide Cartea cu Printese si o voi rasfoi teleportata din lumea acestui veac spre lumea veacului printeselor. Peste o jumatate de ora ma voi trezi din reverie si te voi duce la etaj in coltul Cameillei Sinensis. Iti voi povesti ce fel de cani de ceai folosesc japonezii si chinezii, ce accesoriu si pentru ce e bun, cate tipuri de ceai exista. Ma vei lasa sa indrug tot ce vreau eu despre ceaiuri si uneori vei parea chiar interesat. Vom cobori apoi si ma vei ruga sa te astept 5 minute afara. In premiera ma voi abtine sa folosesc enervanta intrebare "De ce?" si voi iesi cuminte din librarie-ceainarie. Vei iesi cu o punga in mana si mi-o vei intinde fara sa spui nimic. In punga - Cartea cu Printese.&lt;br /&gt;Vom merge de mana pe Magheru si cand vom ajunge la Intercontinental vom intra in magazinul Bucuria de pe Batistei (nu mai exista acum, dar in povestea mea vreau sa il redeschid). Ne vom lua ciocolata "Chisinaul de Seara", zefir in ciocolata si marmelade spirala. Imediat ce ma voi trezi cu punga in mana voi si ascunde o marmelada dupa obraz si voi vorbi peltic o vreme. Voi comenta desigur  ca marmeladele nu mai sunt la fel de bune cum erau cand eram eu mica. Ne vom continua plimbarea si vom intra in Palatul Sutu, vom admira fiecare obiect de mobilier, secreterul, scrinul, oglinda mare cat un perete, noptierele pictate, scaunele tapitate. Vei spune ca la un moment dat vei avea si tu o astfel de casa si eu voi raspunde cu un "da" sigur, ca cel de stare civila. Vom iesi din palat si ne vom opri la Vasiliada. Ne vom aseza la cea mai umbrita masa. Eu imi voi comanda traditionalul Mate Carnival si smochine, iar tu vei citi de trei ori meniul lung cat un roman si te vei opri la 1001 nopti. In semintunericul ceainariei iti voi povesti cum ma visam zburand cand eram mica si cum nu mai visez asa ceva acum.&lt;br /&gt;Ni se va face foame si vom opri La Mama. Te voi implora apoi sa mergem la expozitia de rochii de seara de la MNAR si vom admira tinute batute-n nestemate, creatii ale celor mai mari designeri din lume, rochii de Oscar.&lt;br /&gt;Dupa aceea draga mea prietena A ne va face intrarea in studiourile de restaurare tapiserie si  picturi ale muzeului. Va mirosi a vopsea si acetona. Vom urmari in tacere pictorii care scot strat cu strat culorile de pe o pictura si vom ajunge sa descoperim prima fata a unei lucrari. Nu ne vom putea stapani si vom scoate un strigat de fascinatie.&lt;br /&gt;Vom merge apoi la un studio foto pe una dintre stradutele care duc spre Amzei unde toarce la geam un motan. Vei imbraca frac si papion, iar eu imi voi pune o rochie de epoca si palarie si manusi de dantela peste care imi voi imbraca pe deget un inel cu piatra rosie imensa. Ma voi aseza pe scaun iar tu vei sta pe jumatate ascuns dupa speteaza scaunului tinand o mana in buzunarul in care este ascuns ceasul agatat cu un lantic de bata panatlonului. Ma voi ridica apoi de pe scaun si voi desface umbrela din dantela. O voi tine neaparat cu mana inelata. Cu cealalta te voi tine de brat. Jobenul si monoclul te prind. In mai putin de 10 minute vom primi un set de fotografii sepia cu noi doi din alt veac.&lt;br /&gt;Cand vom iesi din studioul foto unde toarce la geam un motan cu capul mare si rotund, afara se va fi lasat seara. Te voi duce la Galeria Digitala unde ne vom pierde in camera cu canapea alba si sute de baloane galbene umplute cu heliu. Iti voi arata apoi lucrarea pe care vreau sa mi-o cumpar atunci cand voi avea casa mea si voi incepe sa iti povestesc cum imi imaginez casa in care voi sta.&lt;br /&gt;De acolo vom merge la Green tea si neaparat ne vom rataci printre stradute. Dar astfel bucuria de a fi gasit intr-un sfarsit viluta va fi si mai mare. O domnisoara amabila si zambitoare (mereu mi se pare ca fetele de acolo sunt zen) ne va face tutrul casei si ne va povesti despre stilul fiecarei camere. Ne vom opri in sala ruseasca. Tu vei alege o bere din ceai eu un ceai negru cu dulceata si lamaie. Vom povesti cate-n luna si-n stele si vom mai bea cate un ceai cu cate o felie de tarta. Eu voi alege cu mure, tu cu zmeura. Nici nu vom observa cand vom ramane numai noi si vom pleca jenati ca le-am facut pe fete sa stea pana la aceasta ora tarzie, ca de, noi am fost ultimii clienti.&lt;br /&gt;O vom lua agale spre casa.&lt;br /&gt;...Cand voi deschide usa garsonierei vei fi disparut.&lt;br /&gt;Voi adormi singura printre cearsafuri reci.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7391210956718794323?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7391210956718794323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7391210956718794323&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7391210956718794323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7391210956718794323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/01/ziua-noastra-cel-mai-lung-text-pe-care.html' title='Ziua noastra (cel mai lung text pe care l-am scris vreodata)'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R44p3rVwYwI/AAAAAAAAAIE/HXkqWeD2c3Y/s72-c/DSC04125.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2757909982190785988</id><published>2008-01-16T01:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T02:59:26.314-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revelatie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R43jhLVwYvI/AAAAAAAAAH8/XbBOA7NH7yY/s1600-h/ceccoli.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R43jhLVwYvI/AAAAAAAAAH8/XbBOA7NH7yY/s320/ceccoli.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156027307528315634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EA: am uitat sa te intreb ce planuri ai pe 2008 (din ce poti sa spuisigur)?&lt;br /&gt;EU mi-am propus sa imi gasesc jumatatea&lt;br /&gt;EU: atat&lt;br /&gt;EA: iti pare putin?&lt;br /&gt;EA: si cum te-ai gandit sa o cauti ?&lt;br /&gt;EU: aici strategiile nu merg (Ca doar nu era sa ii spun cum :) )&lt;br /&gt;EU: tu ce planuri pe 2008 ai?&lt;br /&gt;EA: sa-mi pastrez jumatatea!&lt;br /&gt;EU: iti aluneca din maini?&lt;br /&gt;EA: nu&lt;br /&gt;EU: asta e bine&lt;br /&gt;EU: deci nu vei depune efort insemana ca tb sa iti mai gasesti cel putin un obiectiv&lt;br /&gt;EA: mai am&lt;br /&gt;EA: dar important era acesta care ti-am spus&lt;br /&gt;EA: si inca unul care influenteaza pe toate celelalte&lt;br /&gt;EA: si anume dezvoltarea spirituala&lt;br /&gt;EA: curatirea si aruncarea parazitilor cotidieni si lumesti&lt;br /&gt;EA: e perioada in care nu am bani, si nu imi permit nici o cumparatura...si fii atenta ce carte citesc eu in perioada asta frumoasa "N-am nimic de imbrcaat"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2757909982190785988?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2757909982190785988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2757909982190785988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2757909982190785988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2757909982190785988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/01/revelatie.html' title='Revelatie'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R43jhLVwYvI/AAAAAAAAAH8/XbBOA7NH7yY/s72-c/ceccoli.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7438137112817901739</id><published>2008-01-09T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T14:12:07.634-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seara cu miere pe rani</title><content type='html'>Asta-seara imi ung sufletul cu miere, cel mai bun cicatrizant. De maine sunt un om nou. Astazi insa inca imi ling ranile umplute cu miere. Mi-e bine asa. Seara trista si dimineata rationala. Seara melancoloca si dimineata puternica. In fiecare seara mor ca sa renasc in fiecare dimineata. Mereu vie! Mereu EU!&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi exista iubire, si totusi exista blestem. Dau lumii, dau lumii de stire, iubesc, am curaj si ma tem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/an22ro/1ce86ad2d556a9"&gt;http://www.trilulilu.ro/an22ro/1ce86ad2d556a9&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/an22ro/22c65be6e3e8cd"&gt;http://www.trilulilu.ro/an22ro/22c65be6e3e8cd&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/folkforever/975fc9290638a9"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.trilulilu.ro/folkforever/975fc9290638a9&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/carmenviorica/9a2f0a6c4e699d"&gt;http://www.trilulilu.ro/carmenviorica/9a2f0a6c4e699d&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7438137112817901739?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7438137112817901739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7438137112817901739&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7438137112817901739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7438137112817901739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2008/01/seara-cu-miere-pe-rani.html' title='Seara cu miere pe rani'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3155693937447260954</id><published>2007-12-13T13:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T14:30:39.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Purtatoarea de masti</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R2GyOIXkFMI/AAAAAAAAAH0/PsM_A1CioYU/s1600-h/carnival_shoe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R2GyOIXkFMI/AAAAAAAAAH0/PsM_A1CioYU/s320/carnival_shoe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143588205268047042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toate sunt ale mele. NU le ascund, apar pe rand, fara sa le chem, fara sa fie nevoie sa le scot din nu stiu ce sertar ascuns al sufletului meu. Apar si gata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masca 1: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Buburuza puternica&lt;/span&gt;. Un pic certareata, daca i se face o nedreptate, un pic acida daca e in mediul propice, o idee exagerata daca pune suflet, perfectionista - prin definitie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masca 2. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Buburuza prietena:&lt;/span&gt;  Gata sa ofere , cand i se cere si mai ales cand nu i se cere, dar simte, cu urechi gata sa asculte, cu ochi gata sa vada, dar si cu gura gata sa vorbeasca, dornica sa ofere pentru bucuria celorlalti si pentru bucuria ei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masca 3. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Buburuza indragostita&lt;/span&gt;. - brusc devenita gospodina, din dorinta de a oferi un camin, chiar si celui care salasluieste doar in gandurile ei, posesiva din dorinta de a oferi mult, tot mai mult, linistita, pentru ca simte gandurile cuiva indreptate catre ea, poznasa, de prea multa fericire, visatoare, pentru ca nu traieste in realitate, complexa, descoperindu-se mereu si mereu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masca 4: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Buburuza parasita&lt;/span&gt; - ratacita printre prea multe amintiri, zambitoare, pentru a ascunde durerea, dezamagita, pentru ca iar a crezut in fantome, increzatoare, la inceput, sperand ca procesul este reversibil, resemnata, mai apoi, si trista, intr-un final, ca povestile sunt scrise de si pentru altii. Imprastiata intre multe intalniri din agenda, slaba in fata micilor tristeti ale zilei. Puternica o data cu trecerea timpului, cand iar isi pune Masca 1&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3155693937447260954?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3155693937447260954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3155693937447260954&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3155693937447260954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3155693937447260954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/12/purtatoarea-de-masti.html' title='Purtatoarea de masti'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R2GyOIXkFMI/AAAAAAAAAH0/PsM_A1CioYU/s72-c/carnival_shoe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4189912078414692506</id><published>2007-12-06T04:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T04:42:02.809-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bine ai venit, bine ai plecat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R1fuC4XkFLI/AAAAAAAAAHs/BY15VTB5Zyc/s1600-h/really-pain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R1fuC4XkFLI/AAAAAAAAAHs/BY15VTB5Zyc/s320/really-pain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140839232925078706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce as putea spune mai mult de atat? Nimic! Trebuie sa ma invat sa te las sa pleci. Trebuie sa ma invat pentru a cata oara cu noptile reci si casa goala.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4189912078414692506?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4189912078414692506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4189912078414692506&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4189912078414692506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4189912078414692506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/12/bine-ai-venit-bine-ai-plecat.html' title='Bine ai venit, bine ai plecat'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R1fuC4XkFLI/AAAAAAAAAHs/BY15VTB5Zyc/s72-c/really-pain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2791554992705391055</id><published>2007-12-04T14:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T01:59:15.721-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuvinte despre tine</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R1Z07oXkFKI/AAAAAAAAAHk/G8iU__p_xME/s1600-h/words_are_sweet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R1Z07oXkFKI/AAAAAAAAAHk/G8iU__p_xME/s320/words_are_sweet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140424592487355554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inca nu s-au asezat gandurile pe care vreau sa le spun in cuvinte, insa voi incerca sa le coc in sera sa le scot verzi si fara gust la suprafata.&lt;br /&gt;Cuvinte despre tine.&lt;br /&gt;Le nasc prematur, pentru ca ma sufoca, pentru ca nu ma lasa sa dorm, pentru ca nu ma lasa sa traiesc si pentru ca imi dau dureri diverse, migrene, crampe in stomac, ameteli, frisoane. Cunosti simptomele?&lt;br /&gt;Sunt simptomele unei iubiri neimplinite. Sunt semnele unor puternice trairi interioare care altfel decat asa nu pot izbucni in exterior. Vulcanic dau pe afara din mine.&lt;br /&gt;Cuvinte despre tine.&lt;br /&gt;Tricoul in care dormi nici macar o data nu a prins mirosul tau. Il imbrac a doua zi si e ca si cum acum l-am scos din masina de spalat. Nu sta mai mult de 10 minute pe tine, scapi repede de el. Dezbracandu-l anunti o noua sesiune de descarcare hormonala. L-ai purtat dar nu poarta amprenta sufletului tau. Pleci si nu lasi nici o urma dupa tine, nici macar semnatura corpului tau pe un tricou. Nimic.&lt;br /&gt;Cuvinte despre tine.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt bonava si boala aceasta se numeste TU. Nu m-am vaccinat la timp si acuma sufar de tine. Nu vreau sa ma vindec, vreau insa sa suferi de boala EU. Se pare insa ca ai niste anticorpi cu care nu pot lupta si atunci adun simptome le bolii TU: migrene, crampe in stomac, ameteli, migrene.&lt;br /&gt;Am spus cateva cuvinte despre tine. Copate la repezeala, iesite avortat din mine, pentru ca nu ma lasa sa dorm, pentru ca inteapa, penru ca dor. Verzi, neslefuite, nealese, ca un sirag de margele prost asortate. O adunatura de margele din acelea ramase pe dianafara cu alte ocazii.&lt;br /&gt;Cuvinte despre tine.&lt;br /&gt;Atat de superficiale si totusi atat de durute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2791554992705391055?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2791554992705391055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2791554992705391055&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2791554992705391055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2791554992705391055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/12/cuvinte-despre-tine.html' title='Cuvinte despre tine'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R1Z07oXkFKI/AAAAAAAAAHk/G8iU__p_xME/s72-c/words_are_sweet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3506001282221672076</id><published>2007-11-30T06:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T06:24:18.402-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu si parintii mei</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R1Ac-N70-KI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Q84Jt8xOWmQ/s1600-R/pro2x.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R1Ac-N70-KI/AAAAAAAAAHc/3I3wwxFX7mY/s320/pro2x.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138639030047799458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ceea ce vedem noi ca pe un sacrificiu al parintilor, ei il vad fie ca pe o bucurie, fie o necesitate fie pur si simplu un "asa trebuie sa fie". "asta e firea lucrurilor". Nu mi-am auzit niciodata parintii plangandu-se ca fac eforturi sa ma tina la scoala acolo unde am fost si sunt, ci mai degraba am zarit o tristete ascunsa in ochii mamei ca nu poate umlba cu mine la cumparaturi, ori de cate ori are sau am nevoie, sau o tristete in privirea lui tata cand nu are pe cine ruga sa ii verifice un articol, inainte de a-l da in tipar si nu are cu cine dezbate pana in zori diverse intamplari politice sau de alt gen. Pote ca sunt tristi cand vin acasa si e liniste in camerele in care mai ieri se auzeau doua voci de copii, sau mai multe, daca imi aduceam prietene, iar fratele meu isi chema prieteni. Poate ca sunt tristi atunci cand se simt rau si tin in ei asta si simuleaza bucuria la telefon. Insa stiu ca undeva in coltul inimii sunt bucurosi ca nu vedem ceea ce vad ei in fiecare zi in tara din care ne-am rupt, ca nu ne lovim de zidurile inalte ale normelor nescrise moldovenesti, ca ne construim caramida cu caramida singurei viitorul si oricate vanturi ar bate si din orice directie ar veni ele, noi ramanem verticali si din ce in ce mai puternici si mai maturi. Stiu ca se bucura atunci cand stau si isi amintesc despre noi acum 10 ani, cand inca eram acasa, sau si mai multi ani, cand eram la varsta prostiilor. Stiu ca se bucura. Si mai stiu un lucru. Si ei au plecat din cuib fara sa intoarca privirea inapoi si ei isi vad parintii la fel de des cum ii vedem noipe ei, de aceea ne iarta cum sunt iertati la randul lor si cum probabil vom ierta si noi cand ne va veni timpul sa lasam sa zboare puii din cuib.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3506001282221672076?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3506001282221672076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3506001282221672076&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3506001282221672076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3506001282221672076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/11/eu-si-parintii-mei.html' title='Eu si parintii mei'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R1Ac-N70-KI/AAAAAAAAAHc/3I3wwxFX7mY/s72-c/pro2x.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-8846891774098647612</id><published>2007-11-20T07:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T07:33:10.442-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Am facut un an de blogareala</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R0L9cKm8pDI/AAAAAAAAAHU/pmhsYhyTxGE/s1600-h/thumb_Hug-a-ight2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R0L9cKm8pDI/AAAAAAAAAHU/pmhsYhyTxGE/s320/thumb_Hug-a-ight2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134945185481663538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azi mi-am dat seama. De un an scriu din cand in cand cate o idee pe aici si mai lipesc cate o poza, mai potrivita sau mai putin potrivita. Cert e ca , desi il am (ne avem- eu si blogul meu) de un an, inca ne pastram unul pentru celalalt. Nu acceptam pe oricine in vizita, dar ne bucuram de gandurile celor dragi impartasite cu noi.  Relatia mea cu acest blog dureaza mai mult decat a durat ultima mea relatie serioasa. La multi ani noua!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-8846891774098647612?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/8846891774098647612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=8846891774098647612&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8846891774098647612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8846891774098647612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/11/am-facut-un-de-blogareala.html' title='Am facut un an de blogareala'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/R0L9cKm8pDI/AAAAAAAAAHU/pmhsYhyTxGE/s72-c/thumb_Hug-a-ight2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-8164993972690293185</id><published>2007-11-15T05:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T05:28:21.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CUM?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RzxI26m8pCI/AAAAAAAAAHM/h6PleTGoJLc/s1600-h/hopeless-reflections.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RzxI26m8pCI/AAAAAAAAAHM/h6PleTGoJLc/s320/hopeless-reflections.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133057783578272802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calm. Lasa sa vina de la sine! Nu forta lucrurile! Aceleasi sfaturi de la toti cei care ma vad agitata, dezorientata, speriata, dornica, indragostita.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt atat de speriata, incat as disparea undeva sa uit, sau pur si simplu sa ma linistesc, sa ma intorc si sa nu mai am tendinta sa te sufoc. Atunci insa ar insemna sa ma intorc batrana, indiferenta, distanta, deci sa nu te mai iubesc. Nu pot iubi altfel decat daruindu-ma in intregime, pana la ultimul gand, pana la ultima respiratie, pana la ultimul geamat. Tie, cel sufocat. De ce in si in dragoste trebuie sa existe un mijloc de aur? De ce griul si jocul de-a v-ati ascunselea sunt mai apreciate decat niste sentimente sincere si puternice. De ce sa ma prefac ca imi pasa mai putin cand imi pasa enorm de mult? De ce sa ma fac disparuta daca vreau sa fiu mereu langa tine? Nu vreau sa invat sa iubesc dupa standardele celor care au experimentat si rasexperimentat sentimentul. E nou pentru mine si vreau sa ard pana la capat. Si cu cat mai mare e dorinta cu atat mai tare vor durea arsurile cand intr-o buna zi vei disparea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-8164993972690293185?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/8164993972690293185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=8164993972690293185&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8164993972690293185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8164993972690293185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/11/cum.html' title='CUM?'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RzxI26m8pCI/AAAAAAAAAHM/h6PleTGoJLc/s72-c/hopeless-reflections.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4087207946310555548</id><published>2007-11-09T04:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T06:18:58.912-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Opreste-te, clipa!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RzRsQyMqldI/AAAAAAAAAHE/rLIdxCdfOm4/s1600-h/togetherforeverkj5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RzRsQyMqldI/AAAAAAAAAHE/rLIdxCdfOm4/s320/togetherforeverkj5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130844911090439634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Existi! Te-am inviat din vise! Gand cu gand, dorinta cu dorinta, ai aparut. Viu. In carne si oase. Ma trezesc noaptea si te caut. Ma conving ca nu visez si adorm fericita la loc. Ramai, clipa!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4087207946310555548?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4087207946310555548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4087207946310555548&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4087207946310555548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4087207946310555548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/11/opreste-te-clipa.html' title='Opreste-te, clipa!'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RzRsQyMqldI/AAAAAAAAAHE/rLIdxCdfOm4/s72-c/togetherforeverkj5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-2842547046273098818</id><published>2007-10-29T02:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T02:52:10.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mi-e frica</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RyWtOTd8BlI/AAAAAAAAAG8/1KcIVT1EHaw/s1600-h/Alone_by_Mellian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RyWtOTd8BlI/AAAAAAAAAG8/1KcIVT1EHaw/s320/Alone_by_Mellian.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126694212086793810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RyWtIjd8BkI/AAAAAAAAAG0/VoKRnJ7xLQ8/s1600-h/291020051127481zl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RyWtIjd8BkI/AAAAAAAAAG0/VoKRnJ7xLQ8/s320/291020051127481zl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126694113302545986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e frica de dorinta mea de fericire. Mi-e frica de nevoia mea de a fi mereu langa tine. Mi-e frica de depndenta pe care mi-o creezi. Mi-e frica de distante. Mi-e frica de ziua de maine, cea pe care totusi o astept cu speranta. Mi-e frica sa nu vreau mai mult decat poti sa imi oferi. Mi-e frica sa nu fii doar rodul dorintelor mele. Mi-e firca sa nu dispari intr-o buna zi si sa nu te mai intorci. Mi-e frica sa dorm singura. Mi-e frica!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-2842547046273098818?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/2842547046273098818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=2842547046273098818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2842547046273098818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/2842547046273098818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/10/mi-e-frica.html' title='mi-e frica'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RyWtOTd8BlI/AAAAAAAAAG8/1KcIVT1EHaw/s72-c/Alone_by_Mellian.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7563420291105023374</id><published>2007-10-24T02:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T02:26:50.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Indragostita de dragoste</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Rx8P0wXtxSI/AAAAAAAAAGs/FiUmztKbSho/s1600-h/black-heart-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Rx8P0wXtxSI/AAAAAAAAAGs/FiUmztKbSho/s320/black-heart-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124832299982898466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Rx8PuwXtxRI/AAAAAAAAAGk/vrvJfUhxVCQ/s1600-h/love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Rx8PuwXtxRI/AAAAAAAAAGk/vrvJfUhxVCQ/s320/love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124832196903683346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Rx8PoQXtxQI/AAAAAAAAAGc/n0uUfpBHDLM/s1600-h/Falling+in+Love1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Rx8PoQXtxQI/AAAAAAAAAGc/n0uUfpBHDLM/s320/Falling+in+Love1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124832085234533634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si-atat. Adrenalina pura din nimic. Zbor fara aripi si nici ca ma intereseaza ca nu are cine sa ma prinda cand raman fara energie si voi fi in cadere libera. Pot sa ma fac tandari la impactul cu realitatea. Nu conteaza. Eu zbor. Eu rad. Eu dansez. Singura cu mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7563420291105023374?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7563420291105023374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7563420291105023374&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7563420291105023374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7563420291105023374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/10/indragostita-de-dragoste.html' title='Indragostita de dragoste'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Rx8P0wXtxSI/AAAAAAAAAGs/FiUmztKbSho/s72-c/black-heart-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-6393434147254365067</id><published>2007-10-21T04:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T04:37:08.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>M-am inselat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RxyLWgXtxPI/AAAAAAAAAGU/0AXA6AV1cY8/s1600-h/breakup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RxyLWgXtxPI/AAAAAAAAAGU/0AXA6AV1cY8/s320/breakup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124123694803567858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am crezut ca esti ceea de ce am nevoie. Nu esti. Am crezut ca sunt ceea de ce ai nevoie. Nu sunt. Am crezut ca imi poti oferi ceea ce merit. Nu poti. Am crezut ca iti pot oferi ceea ce cauti. Nu pot. Traim in unversuri diferite si avem asteptari deiferite. Eu imi doresc sa imi petrec alaturi de tine zilele si noptile. Tu preferi jumatatea de masura, noaptea. Eu imi doresc sa aud cuvinte din gura ta, dar nu ajung decat sa aud suspine in intuneric, si un "mai vorbim" sec dimineata. Universurile asteptarilor noastre se interseceaza rar si nu pare sa se schimbe ceva in curand. Nu vreau sa imi umplu doar noptile cu tine. Am alte asteptari si daca tu nu esti in stare sau nu esti pregatit sa mi le satisfaci, pleaca acum, cat inca nu mi s-a deschis prea tare rana. Pleaca atat timp cat am mari sanse sa plng doar putin dupa tine, pleaca si plecat sa ramai. Nu am chef de jocuri, nu am chef de nopti . Vreau zile pline si senine langa cineva care stie, vrea si poate sa mi le ofere. Daca nu esti tu acela, sigur este undeva cineva care ma cauta. Imi pare rau ca nu esti tu, dar stiu sigur ca intr-o zi voi ajunge sa ma bucur ca nu esti tu. Adio si nu pe curand&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-6393434147254365067?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/6393434147254365067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=6393434147254365067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6393434147254365067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/6393434147254365067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/10/m-am-inselat.html' title='M-am inselat'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RxyLWgXtxPI/AAAAAAAAAGU/0AXA6AV1cY8/s72-c/breakup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7779793433597227924</id><published>2007-10-19T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T07:10:09.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De-a v-ati ascunselea</title><content type='html'>Sa ne jucam, daca sentimentele curate si limpezi te plictisesc. Azi dispar eu, maine e randul tau. Jocul tariei nervilor si al rabdarii. Cantam pe neuroni intinsi ca pe corzi de bas mai intai, apoi de chitara electrica si vom incheia cu vioara. La sfarsit una cate una corzile se vor rupe. Si vom reveni la sentimete curate si limpezi. Castigate dupa lungi jocuri, dupa infinite cautari si ascunzeli.&lt;br /&gt;Sa ne jucam, ca imi place sa cant la fluierul indiferentei tale.&lt;br /&gt;Sa ne jucam  de-a fantomele azi indragostite maine dusmane.&lt;br /&gt;Sa ne jucam  de-a dansatorii nestatornici, de-a cuplul unit, de-a prietnii buni, de-a mama si de-a tata, de-a ascunselea, ca la sfarsit sa jucam de v-ati gasitelea.&lt;br /&gt;Cand vom obosi sa cantam la nervii unul altuia vom iesi fiecare din ascunzisul lui si ne vom gasi. Eu si Tu. Pana atunci...Sa ne jucam!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7779793433597227924?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7779793433597227924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7779793433597227924&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7779793433597227924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7779793433597227924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/10/de-v-ati-ascunselea.html' title='De-a v-ati ascunselea'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-5919368702337101587</id><published>2007-10-17T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T02:32:19.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Atat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RxXWJgXtxOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/qlOFyKuPNRQ/s1600-h/m-19_Amoureux.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 394px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RxXWJgXtxOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/qlOFyKuPNRQ/s320/m-19_Amoureux.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122235610000377058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RxXTwwXtxNI/AAAAAAAAAGE/OdmW5zPgYE0/s1600-h/rut-insieme.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 360px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RxXTwwXtxNI/AAAAAAAAAGE/OdmW5zPgYE0/s320/rut-insieme.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122232985775359186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RxXTawXtxLI/AAAAAAAAAF0/XJyL-kPBqGY/s1600-h/EB6011%7EInsieme-I-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 355px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RxXTawXtxLI/AAAAAAAAAF0/XJyL-kPBqGY/s320/EB6011%7EInsieme-I-Posters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122232607818237106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-5919368702337101587?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/5919368702337101587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=5919368702337101587&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5919368702337101587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5919368702337101587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/10/atat.html' title='Atat'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RxXWJgXtxOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/qlOFyKuPNRQ/s72-c/m-19_Amoureux.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-8806141158237240705</id><published>2007-10-04T04:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T06:23:13.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre bucurii simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RwTpOgXtxKI/AAAAAAAAAFs/DpoECntatbs/s1600-h/linusallyfig.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RwTpOgXtxKI/AAAAAAAAAFs/DpoECntatbs/s320/linusallyfig.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117471512016569506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nici nu poti sa iti imaginezi cate bucurii imi aduci in fiecare zi.&lt;br /&gt;Cand ramai la mine ma bucur cand ma saruti dimineata la plecare sau cand iesim impreuna din casa si mergem de mana pe jos pana la metrou. Cand iti fumezi trabucul primit de la mine si imi povestesti despre lucruri pe care nu le pricep. Cand noaptea inainte de un somn implinit te uiti la ceas te miri si imi zambesti.&lt;br /&gt;Cand ne vedem in oras ma bucur ca imi ceri un sarut si ai o fata multumita atunci cand il primesti. Cand te faci ca nu ma vezi tinand privirea fixa iar eu te privesc tinta pana vad ca se incretesc muschii de la coada ochiului si ochii incep sa iti zambeasca. Cand imi faci cu ochiul si iti fac cu ochiul si ne zambim. Cand ne plimbam pe strada si imi zici cum sa tin laba piciorului pentru a avea un mers elegant si obligatoriu imi spui ca ai facut 8 ani de dans deci stii despre ce vorbesti. Cand imi iei geanta si mi-o duci si ma intrebi ce car in ea de e atat de grea. Cand te amuzi de pasiunile mele si in acelasi timp te vad bucurandu-te pentru ca ma bucur eu. Cand sunt pe jumatate adormita la tine in brate ma intrebi "ai adormit copilas?". Cand in linistea intunericului imi pui cele mai neasteptate intrebari. Cand imi descarci muzica in calculatorul meu si o descopar cand sunt singura - muzica italiana melodioasa si lenta, romanctica -asa cum ai numit-o tu. Fiecare gest, fiecare vorba, fiecare privire ma face din ce in ce mai fericita ca sunt langa tine. Inca nu ti-am zis ca te iubesc. E o bucurie simpla pe care o aman, pentru ca si amanarea e o bucurie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-8806141158237240705?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/8806141158237240705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=8806141158237240705&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8806141158237240705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/8806141158237240705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/10/despre-bucurii-simple.html' title='Despre bucurii simple'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RwTpOgXtxKI/AAAAAAAAAFs/DpoECntatbs/s72-c/linusallyfig.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-1720694642293754021</id><published>2007-09-27T01:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T02:12:27.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poezie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Rvtz9gXtxJI/AAAAAAAAAFk/y9ouJG9pfGE/s1600-h/couple.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Rvtz9gXtxJI/AAAAAAAAAFk/y9ouJG9pfGE/s320/couple.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114809302307947666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vreau&lt;br /&gt;Sa imi spui noapte buna si buna dimineata&lt;br /&gt;Sa iti spun noapte buna si buna dimineata&lt;br /&gt;Vreau&lt;br /&gt;Sa adorm la tine in brate si sa vreau sa ma trezesc pentru a adormi din nou&lt;br /&gt;Sa adormi la mine in brate si sa vrei sa te trezesti pentru a adormi din nou&lt;br /&gt;Vreau&lt;br /&gt;Sa te aud cum imi vorbesti cand sunt pe jumatate adormita&lt;br /&gt;Sa ma auzi cum iti vorbesc cand esti pe jumatate adormit&lt;br /&gt;Vreau&lt;br /&gt;Sa te simt in vis cum imi descoperi si imi redescoperi fiinta&lt;br /&gt;Sa ma simti in vis cum iti descopar si iti redescopar fiinta&lt;br /&gt;Vreau&lt;br /&gt;Sa te caut in umba  intunericului si sa te gasesc de fiecare data&lt;br /&gt;Sa ma cauti in umba  intunericului si sa ma gasesti de fiecare data&lt;br /&gt;Vreau&lt;br /&gt;Sa ma trezesc noaptea si sa vad luna care iti lumineaza chipul relaxat in somn&lt;br /&gt;Sa te trezesti noaptea si sa vezi luna care imi lumineaza chipul relaxat in somn&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-1720694642293754021?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/1720694642293754021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=1720694642293754021&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1720694642293754021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1720694642293754021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/09/poezie.html' title='Poezie'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/Rvtz9gXtxJI/AAAAAAAAAFk/y9ouJG9pfGE/s72-c/couple.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4209988452192849962</id><published>2007-09-23T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T04:20:15.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E atat de scurta vara si e plin de flori</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RvabpwXtxHI/AAAAAAAAAFU/ox-3ggNqBwk/s1600-h/FlowerfieldLarge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113445568587089010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RvabpwXtxHI/AAAAAAAAAFU/ox-3ggNqBwk/s320/FlowerfieldLarge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am vazut zeci de suflete de flori care cauta. Tinere, cu petalele desfacute, cu aroma puternica, cu culorile vii. Nimic din astea nu reusesc sa atraga insecta potrivita. Acea albina mult-asteptata si imbiata. Un camp de flori singure, fara suflet viu in preajma. Un camp ca un tablou de poveste. Fosnesc si zumzaie intre ele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unele zic, &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;nu am nevoie de albine, sunt auto-arhi-suficienta si nu am nevoie de admiratia unor insecte burtoase cu coada ascutita si cu ac in varf . Mi-s atat de antipatice si sunt atat de usor de citit incat imi vine sa imi schimb parfumul sa le indepartez in loc sa le apropii&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Altele deschid subiectul fara ca macar sa le intrebi ceva. Doua flori, una roz si una alba, se vad prima data si fara vreo legatura cea alba incepe: &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;eu vreau sa intalnesc o albina, dar nu a venit timpul probabil, stiu ca in curand va fi tarziu, dar eu mai sper ca exista o albina si pentru mine&lt;/span&gt;. Cealalta asculta cu atentie si zice: &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;mie mi-e frica de albine. Nu imi inspira deloc incredere. Sunt atat de instabile. Niciodata nu stii cand isi indreapta atentia catre o floare vecina&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Altele tac si asteapta, fara sa spuna nimanui cum arata albina vusurilor lor. Tac si spera. Isi clatina capsorul cand adie vantul si imprastie cu drag din parfumul lor. Seara se strang boboc si merg cuminti la culcare, iar dimineata isi desfac elegant petalele si increzatoare se spala cu roua. Azi poate fi ziua cea mare, de aceea de fiecare data isi aranjeaza cu atentie fiecare petala , fiecare frunzulita. Si asteapta... Asteapta... Asteapta.&lt;br /&gt;Pe campul din poveste e liniste, de prea mult timp e liniste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/relevance/search/les+filles+seules/video/x194qy_les-filles-seules_creation"&gt;http://www.dailymotion.com/relevance/search/les+filles+seules/video/x194qy_les-filles-seules_creation&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4209988452192849962?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4209988452192849962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4209988452192849962&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4209988452192849962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4209988452192849962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/09/fetii-frumosi-de-ieri-si-de-azi.html' title='E atat de scurta vara si e plin de flori'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RvabpwXtxHI/AAAAAAAAAFU/ox-3ggNqBwk/s72-c/FlowerfieldLarge.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-5397717469471106762</id><published>2007-08-28T12:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T13:05:41.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fluturii nu mor!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RtSACqlmLgI/AAAAAAAAAFM/adV2LRNpuQ4/s1600-h/untitled.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RtSACqlmLgI/AAAAAAAAAFM/adV2LRNpuQ4/s320/untitled.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103845060997688834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am tinut in stomac vreme indelungata niste coconi ai dragostei. Stateau acolo linistiti fara sa dea vreun semn. Astfel am decis ca nu posed asa ceva. Asa cum unele femei nu au un Punct G, la fel eu nu am fluturasi in stomac.&lt;br /&gt;Orice-ar fi, piciorele mele sunt destul de musculoase (5 ani de dans sportiv isi spun cuvantul) incat sa nu imi tremure in tot felul de societati masculine. Orice-ar fi,  bratele mele, obisnuite sa se incleste in realitate si in lucruri palpabile nu vor tanji vreodata dupa  un brat de barbat. Orice-ar fi, capul meu, mereu vertical si sus, nu va dori vreodata sa plece pe pieptul unui barbat. Orice-ar fi, trupul meu, pine stapanit de spirit nu va tremura vreodata din dorinta de a simti piele  de barbat. Astfel credeam ieri. Eram convinsa ca fluturasii fac parte din viata altora, a celora care traiesc metaforic.&lt;br /&gt;Astazi...&lt;br /&gt;Mi-au inflorit in stomac niste creaturi colorate cu aripioare firave si foarte energice. Am auzit ca se cheama fluturi. S-au inmultit peste noapte atat de tare incat simt uneori cum ajung pana in gat si ma sufoca, ajung pana in picioare si mi le taie de la genunchi, ajung pana in maini si ma fac sa doresc sa il ating, ajung pana in cap si ma fac sa mi-l simt greu in preajma lui, ajung in fiecare celula beata de dorinta si ma fac sa gandesc cu cromozomii.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-a inflorit in stomac un camp plin cu fluturi. Frumosi si necrutatori. Ei ma hranesc, ei nu ma lasa sa dorm, ei imi aduc ganduri secrete noaptea.&lt;br /&gt;E ca prima data? Nu!&lt;br /&gt;E PRIMA DATA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-5397717469471106762?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/5397717469471106762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=5397717469471106762&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5397717469471106762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5397717469471106762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/08/fluturii-nu-mor.html' title='Fluturii nu mor!'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RtSACqlmLgI/AAAAAAAAAFM/adV2LRNpuQ4/s72-c/untitled.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-940301748749249565</id><published>2007-08-15T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T10:47:18.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce vorbele nu au spus, au rostit ochii</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RsM8GklFd2I/AAAAAAAAAFE/7ApGl-V6vkQ/s1600-h/MA955.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RsM8GklFd2I/AAAAAAAAAFE/7ApGl-V6vkQ/s320/MA955.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098985286709639010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi privirile inca nu s-au dezavatat sa vorbeasca. Si inca privirile nu au invatat sa strige in cuvinte in locul gurii. O noapte alba am petrecut noi doi, cu atatia in jurul nostru, atat de deranjanti, atat de in plus. Ei toti au putut sa inteleaga si sa vada ce noi unul la altul nu am vazut si nu am inteles. Doua fotografii vorbesc acum despre o noapte alba, noaptea noastra alba in care nu s-a intamplat nimic si s-a intamplat totul. Privirea ta e vie in fotografie, la fel e si privirea mea, dar nu am fost in stare nici eu si nici tu sa facem pasul pe care toti din jurul nostra il asteptau. A rasarit soarele si eu am plecat fara sa ma tin de cuvant sa ma intorc, tu ai ramas acolo. Cand eu dormeam tu ai urcat in masina si ai plecat. Am regretat apoi, dar m-am rersemnat ca am visat, ca nimic nu s-a intamplat. Ca astazi sa mi se spuna ca intre noi s-a intamplat totul si ca totul s-a vazut din priviri. Nu mi s-a mai intamplat sa vorbesc atat de putin cu cinevca si sa aflu apoi ca de fapt am spus totul si mi s-a zis totul. Am omis si eu si tu un cuvant rostit si nu transmis vizual: "ramai". Acel singur cuvant nerostit a daramat ceea ce inca nu construisem, a incuiat usile pe care inca nu le deschisesem, a rupt ceea ce inca nu legasem.&lt;br /&gt;Azi pot sa spun acest cuvant de mii de ori, insa nu sa va intampla nimic.&lt;br /&gt;O fotografie a ramas ca dovada unei nopti albe in care nu s-a intamplat nimic in timp ce se intampla totul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-940301748749249565?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/940301748749249565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=940301748749249565&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/940301748749249565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/940301748749249565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/08/ce-vorbele-nu-au-spus-au-rostit-ochii.html' title='Ce vorbele nu au spus, au rostit ochii'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RsM8GklFd2I/AAAAAAAAAFE/7ApGl-V6vkQ/s72-c/MA955.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3861557545657219663</id><published>2007-07-02T05:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T05:25:15.077-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lasati buburuza sa zboare!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RojuSEYzshI/AAAAAAAAAE8/5kT7PkjNUoA/s1600-h/LadyBug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RojuSEYzshI/AAAAAAAAAE8/5kT7PkjNUoA/s320/LadyBug.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082574173670453778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stimabile, ai vazut vreodata o buburuza zburand? Ai admirat-o cum isi vede ea de drumul ei carandu-si cu atata eleganta trupul rotund?&lt;br /&gt;Daca da, atunci ma vei intelege si pe mine, cand am sa te rog sa ma lasi sa zbor, sa nu ma prinzi in mainile tale dornice de a tine pe cineva in brate, doar sa nu iti fie frig noaptea.&lt;br /&gt;Ai sa ma intelegi si atunci cand o sa ma prefac la un moment dat ca nu ne cunoastem, deoarece asa imi va fi mie mai bine. Sunt o buburuza egoista si tin mult la linistea mea. Si nici nu vreau sa ma avant in ceva ce nu cred ca va dura mai mult de o data.&lt;br /&gt;Asa ca, lasa-ma sa zbor si lasa doar intamplarea sa ne intersecteze drumurile.&lt;br /&gt;Lasa-ma sa zbor!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3861557545657219663?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3861557545657219663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3861557545657219663&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3861557545657219663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3861557545657219663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/07/lasati-bucuruza-sa-zboare.html' title='Lasati buburuza sa zboare!'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RojuSEYzshI/AAAAAAAAAE8/5kT7PkjNUoA/s72-c/LadyBug.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-3135039174714491538</id><published>2007-05-10T01:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T04:21:02.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mon amant de Saint Jean</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RkLXA1tGk8I/AAAAAAAAAE0/PlpqayyGsrs/s1600-h/jewelr37.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062845340534084546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RkLXA1tGk8I/AAAAAAAAAE0/PlpqayyGsrs/s320/jewelr37.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;Comment ne pas perdre la tête&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;Serrée par des bras audacieux&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;Car l'on croit toujours &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;Aux doux mots d'amour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;Quand ils sont dits avec les yeux,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;Moi qui l'aimais tant, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;Mon bel amour mon amant de St Jean,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;Il ne m'aime plus, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;C'est du passé, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;N'en parlons plus !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xfv86_patrick-bruel-mon-amant-de-st-jean"&gt;http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xfv86_patrick-bruel-mon-amant-de-st-jean&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-3135039174714491538?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/3135039174714491538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=3135039174714491538&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3135039174714491538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/3135039174714491538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/05/mon-amant-de-saint-jean.html' title='Mon amant de Saint Jean'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RkLXA1tGk8I/AAAAAAAAAE0/PlpqayyGsrs/s72-c/jewelr37.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-68506896575123483</id><published>2007-04-26T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T05:24:33.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aripi de lebada sau aripi de gaina?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RjCZ8FtGk7I/AAAAAAAAAEs/74JOTOqCL-g/s1600-h/wings3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RjCZ8FtGk7I/AAAAAAAAAEs/74JOTOqCL-g/s320/wings3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057711639139619762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am atatea de spus. Dar cu cat se aduna mai multe, cu atat imi vine mai greu sa rastorn galeata, sa le las sa curga si sa se scurga din mine. Scriu texte scurte care se opresc brusc, pentru ca mi se opresc gandurile. Pur si simplu se blocheaza in buricele degetelor fara sa genereze reflexul apasarii pe taste. Raman acolo, in mainile tremurande de atatea lucruri traite, dar nespuse, durute in tacere, dorite, dar neimplinite. Colectia mea de frustrari. Care mai de care mai stralucitoare si mai luminoasa. Care mai de care mai arzatoate si mai dureroasa - ca niste margele gata sa fie asezate in sirag luuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuung, cat o viata de om, luuuuuuuuuuuuuuung cat o iubire la inceput, luuuuuuuuuuuung cat dorinta mea de fericire.&lt;br /&gt;Inca vreau sa aflu ce fel de purtatoare de aripi sunt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-68506896575123483?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/68506896575123483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=68506896575123483&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/68506896575123483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/68506896575123483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/04/aripi-de-lebada-sau-aripi-de-gaina.html' title='Aripi de lebada sau aripi de gaina?'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RjCZ8FtGk7I/AAAAAAAAAEs/74JOTOqCL-g/s72-c/wings3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-4501053693076480148</id><published>2007-04-18T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T05:48:54.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Caleidoscop</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RiYTN3hrn6I/AAAAAAAAAEk/JuBPdLmgN6w/s1600-h/Kaleidoscope.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RiYTN3hrn6I/AAAAAAAAAEk/JuBPdLmgN6w/s320/Kaleidoscope.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054748760734408610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultima vreme imi imaginez foarte des cum invart un caleidoscop, cum se schimba formele si culorile in tubul magic si cum soarele care se strecoara cu zgarcenie in caleidoscop trimite cate o raza sa lumineze mai tare una dintre sticulute. Cum lumina ei imi patrunde in ochi si ma arde.&lt;br /&gt;Ma fascineaza si astazi ideea de caleidoscop. Si acum sunt gata sa cred ca exista un mag care organizeaza acele culori si forme fantastice. M-as juca la infinit cu un caleidoscop. Mi-as arde retina, dintai la un ochi apoi la celalalt si tot nu m-as plictisi.&lt;br /&gt;Asta fac de la o vreme. Invart  un caleidoscop. Calidoscopul relatiiilor mele.  Toate stralucitoare, pasionale si niciodata gata sa  paleasca.&lt;br /&gt;Si totusi se invarte. Si totusi paleste, ficare relatie pe rand, cand se plictiseste soarele sa o binecuvanteze. Iar eu fac vraji. Beau alifii si ii dau sa bea alifii sa vina o raza pe sticluta noastra. Sa se reaprinda. Sa mai prind o tura de fascinatie, de viata, de zbor, de dorinta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-4501053693076480148?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/4501053693076480148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=4501053693076480148&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4501053693076480148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/4501053693076480148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/04/caleidoscop.html' title='Caleidoscop'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RiYTN3hrn6I/AAAAAAAAAEk/JuBPdLmgN6w/s72-c/Kaleidoscope.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-5588743592908493576</id><published>2007-03-29T05:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T06:58:47.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce nu stiati despre buburuza</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RgvEu1pPfCI/AAAAAAAAAEY/yV8VvmikHlU/s1600-h/Ladybug-Ladybird-on-daisy-Poster-C12157078.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RgvEu1pPfCI/AAAAAAAAAEY/yV8VvmikHlU/s320/Ladybug-Ladybird-on-daisy-Poster-C12157078.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047344116351859746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da, dragii mei, buburuza nu este o insecta oarecare. E o delicata, o pasionala, o bezmetica, o nesatula si doar cand oboseste si isi impreuneaza aripile pe o frunza, e resemnata. Nu are astampar. Ea trebuie sa zboare, sa afle, sa se scalde in razele soarelui, si sa-si bronzeze bulinele negre la stralucrirea picaturilor de ploaie.&lt;br /&gt;Ati vazut vreodata o buburuza fericita? E zgomotoasa. Flutura neostenit din aripioarele dure care ascund inca o perecehe de aripi transparente ca o pereche de manusi de dantela purtate de o regina. Fericta fiind, zboara sus, tot mai sus, isi simte aripile usoare si uita de catusele timpului.&lt;br /&gt;Ati vazut vreodata o buburuza trista? E mai bine sa nu o fi vazut. Mai stie sa zboare, dar nu se avanta. Da greoi din aripile solzoase, si se misca haotic, cat mai aproape de pamant. Inaltimile o ametesc si ii displac. Se ascunde in umbra frunzelor si nu scoate niciun sunet.&lt;br /&gt;Ati vazut vreodata o buburuza indragostita? Se scalda in fecare dimineata intr-o picatura de roua, apoi isi pudreaza piciorusele cu polen de cale, apoi isi lusruieste aripile cu petale catifelate de floarea soarelui si, inainte de a decola, se parfumeaza cu seva florilor de trandafir. E asortata, aranjata, parfumata si... indragostita.&lt;br /&gt;O buburuza fericita o sa va indice directia unde e ascuns norocul, o buburuza trista va va indrepta spre locul adevarurilor nespuse, iar o buburuza indragostita o sa va lase balta, pentru ca nu ii pasa decat de iubirea ei si astfel va va indemna sa va cautati propria iubire, fara a cere ghidaje, directii si reguli de circulatie.&lt;br /&gt;Buburuza-ruza,&lt;br /&gt;Zboara de pe frunza&lt;br /&gt;Unde tu vei zbura&lt;br /&gt;Acolo m-oi marita.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-5588743592908493576?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/5588743592908493576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=5588743592908493576&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5588743592908493576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/5588743592908493576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/03/ce-nu-stiati-despre-buburuza.html' title='Ce nu stiati despre buburuza'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RgvEu1pPfCI/AAAAAAAAAEY/yV8VvmikHlU/s72-c/Ladybug-Ladybird-on-daisy-Poster-C12157078.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-7809627320746827612</id><published>2007-03-12T03:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T01:27:50.732-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dilema, nu stiu care imi place mai mult</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUt4hyoZRI/AAAAAAAAAEI/TFwENWmkO_k/s1600-h/MD0005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUt4hyoZRI/AAAAAAAAAEI/TFwENWmkO_k/s400/MD0005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040985807077795090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUtIxyoZKI/AAAAAAAAADQ/gPTngKp1luI/s1600-h/74-0106+Green+Glass+Box.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUsqRyoZII/AAAAAAAAADA/q7hqUWHdiJE/s1600-h/3dimensional_jewelry_box_apple_open.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUtcxyoZOI/AAAAAAAAADw/twYZ_ofVCuw/s1600-h/EMBM-6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUtcxyoZOI/AAAAAAAAADw/twYZ_ofVCuw/s400/EMBM-6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040985330336425186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUtXRyoZNI/AAAAAAAAADo/0OXvoCHi_8o/s1600-h/EMBM-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUtXRyoZNI/AAAAAAAAADo/0OXvoCHi_8o/s400/EMBM-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040985235847144658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUs1ByoZJI/AAAAAAAAADI/gllDEV2QhKQ/s1600-h/3dimensional_jewelry_box_apple_open.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUs1ByoZJI/AAAAAAAAADI/gllDEV2QhKQ/s400/3dimensional_jewelry_box_apple_open.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040984647436625042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-7809627320746827612?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/7809627320746827612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=7809627320746827612&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7809627320746827612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/7809627320746827612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/03/dilema-nu-stiu-care-imi-place-mai-mult.html' title='Dilema, nu stiu care imi place mai mult'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUt4hyoZRI/AAAAAAAAAEI/TFwENWmkO_k/s72-c/MD0005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287852725337949692.post-1554979754509490848</id><published>2007-03-12T02:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T03:30:17.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Din umbra</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUrrxyoZGI/AAAAAAAAACw/87qLOIPE4Uc/s1600-h/qport-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUrrxyoZGI/AAAAAAAAACw/87qLOIPE4Uc/s200/qport-10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040983389011207266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intuneric. Lumina din camera e prea imprastiata sa ii determin sursa si de aceea am neplacuta sanzatie ca ea in realitate nu exista, ca este un produs al dorintei mele de a o gasi si de a o imbratisa pe vecie. In intuneric bajbai dupa diverse lucruri ce imi lipsesc: un pix, o foaie (chiar daca nu am cum sa scriu le vreau langa mine), o soapta, o mangaiere. Pe rand le gasesc pe fiecare. Le pipai indelung sa fiu sigura ca am gasit bine ceea ce am gasit si cand ma conving tactil, cu ochii mintii, le adun cu grija in cutia mea cu comori.&lt;br /&gt;Iata un pix cu condei a(i)urit, iata si o foaie prea alba, iata un sarut, o imbratisare, o mangaiere, un gand bun, un vis, o atingere intamplatoare, un strigat soptit, un sirag de margele, o pereche de manusi din dantela, o petala uscata de trandafir alb, sare de baie parfumata si colorata, o buburuza - toate s-au amestecat in cutia mea de comori.&lt;br /&gt;Lumina prea imprastiata din camera mea deseneaza o umbra. Umbra ta. Tu din umbra imi impingi cate un obiect sa il pipai, sa il netezesc, sa il recunosc si apoi sa il pun in cutiuta cu comori. Comorile noastre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5287852725337949692-1554979754509490848?l=buburuzaruza.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/feeds/1554979754509490848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5287852725337949692&amp;postID=1554979754509490848&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1554979754509490848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5287852725337949692/posts/default/1554979754509490848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buburuzaruza.blogspot.com/2007/03/din-umbra.html' title='Din umbra'/><author><name>Buburuza</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05884499864729258428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_6GrXn7DbO5k/RfUrrxyoZGI/AAAAAAAAACw/87qLOIPE4Uc/s72-c/qport-10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
