<?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-6989239053865776070</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:01:21.088-07:00</updated><category term='ieri'/><title type='text'>tablou de bord</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-2205453405672415255</id><published>2008-09-08T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T08:25:15.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i do</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SMVDwbSR9tI/AAAAAAAAAEA/il6lOjzobFg/s1600-h/DSC_0344b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SMVDwbSR9tI/AAAAAAAAAEA/il6lOjzobFg/s320/DSC_0344b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243671840380024530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;simplu.sanatos.revigorant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-2205453405672415255?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/2205453405672415255/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=2205453405672415255' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/2205453405672415255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/2205453405672415255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-do.html' title='i do'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SMVDwbSR9tI/AAAAAAAAAEA/il6lOjzobFg/s72-c/DSC_0344b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-8712567319075772979</id><published>2008-09-06T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T11:28:59.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm ready</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SMLLt0SV2TI/AAAAAAAAAD4/MhXV9wlnsIU/s1600-h/DSC_0222.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SMLLt0SV2TI/AAAAAAAAAD4/MhXV9wlnsIU/s320/DSC_0222.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242976904202803506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcYu5Vg_YH8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;din nou comoditatea nu mi-a permis noi materiale fotografice. sau poate e vorba despre frustrarea creatiei, existentei.&lt;br /&gt;desigur sa fi frustrat este un subiect tabu. toata lumea e frustrata dar nimeni nu o recunoaste. in schimb toti ii critica pe ceilalti ca "sunt niste frustrati", de orice maniera, frustrati.&lt;br /&gt;ce inseamna a fi frustrat?&lt;br /&gt;a fi frustrat inseamna a vrea ceva si a nu putea avea&lt;br /&gt;a fi frustrat inseamna a dori sa exprimi ceva si a nu avea libertatea de a o face&lt;br /&gt;a fi frustrat inseamna sa iesi in oras in dorinta de a-ti ridica moralul si de a te intoarce acasa mai nervos ca atunci cand ai plecat&lt;br /&gt;a fi frustrat inseamna a fi un om normal intr-o lume de frustrati care nu isi recunosc propriile angoase si le arunca pe carca altor oameni&lt;br /&gt;si nu ma refer la nimeni si nimic mai mult decat mine. sunt frustrata. si recomand consultarea dictionarului ante concluziilor pripite. a fi frustrat nu inseamna a fi bolnav. inseamna doar a avea o minte proprie de care depinzi pentru a nu innebuni care incepe sa te lase usorul cu usorul.&lt;br /&gt;toate astea pentru ca e prea multa frustrare in jurul meu.&lt;br /&gt;nu inteleg de ce nimeni nu zice ce gandeste niciodata. asta este cheia unei comunicari umane. sa spui mereu ce gandesti nu numai cand te pune pe tine intr-o lumina perfecta, pe un piedestal de trandafiri negri.&lt;br /&gt;"Are you hungry?Are you sick?Are you begging for a break?"&lt;br /&gt;sunt putine lucruri care ma binedispun, oamenii din jur in nici un caz nu o fac.&lt;br /&gt;imi pare rau ca sunt atat de frustrata incat trebuie sa enervez poate oamenii care condamna frustrarea ca pe o boala venerica. as injura ca la usa cortului daca as avea pe cine, dar nu ai cum sa invinovatesti nimic. si asta nu se numeste ca "esti un roman frustrat ca orice roman frustrat" cu toate ca are o insemnatate si treaba asta. inseamna ca esti un om prins intr-o gloata de oameni frustrati. si desi recunosc ca majoritatea frustratilor fac umbra pamantului autohton, sa nu generalizam.&lt;br /&gt;imi propun sa nu mai fiu frustrata, dar daca trebuie sa fiu sincera cu mine si sa zic ce gandesc, stiu ca nu voi reusi niciodata, mereu va fi un "dar"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.: am pus poza cu mine pentru ca pot, in semn de frustrare si revolta, este vorba despre individ, dar daca esti singurul individ si restul sunt stalpi macar poti exploata treaba asta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-8712567319075772979?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/8712567319075772979/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=8712567319075772979' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/8712567319075772979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/8712567319075772979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-ready.html' title='i&apos;m ready'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SMLLt0SV2TI/AAAAAAAAAD4/MhXV9wlnsIU/s72-c/DSC_0222.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-1796572304880269004</id><published>2008-09-04T01:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T01:57:33.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>reintalnire</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-bu_lgFGI/AAAAAAAAADw/q26bp2E2oGo/s1600-h/DSC_0322.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-bu_lgFGI/AAAAAAAAADw/q26bp2E2oGo/s400/DSC_0322.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242079722927559778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ieri mi s-au facut niste poze splendide, dar precedent acestui post am decis ca acest blog nu va fi cu mine si despre mine, deci nu le voi imparti.&lt;br /&gt;este vorba numai despre individ.individual.indivizibil. dar nu aici. aici este vorba despre colectiv si despre ceea ce sustine un anume individ.uneori stau si ma gandesc ce s-ar putea face in aceasta priviinta. mi-as dori sa se faca un ser injectabil de inocenta puerila. ar ajuta multi indivizi.&lt;br /&gt;este vorba despre reintalnire, reorientare. este vorba despre faptul ca oricand iti vei gasi individualitatea, te vei reintalni cu acea persoana care va reusi sa ti-o desfiinteze. sunt lucruri prin care treci singur si lucruri in care esti ajutat, dar daca iti cunosti "individul" vei avea un atuu.&lt;br /&gt;mai sunt 10 zile si incepe un nou capitol din viata mea, pe care il astept cu nerabdare, dar mai sunt 5 ore pana cand se va ivi primul obstacol in fata mintii mele purificate.&lt;br /&gt;pentru prima oara imi este frica, sunt anxioasa.&lt;br /&gt;este vorba numai despre individ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imi propun mai multa atentie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-1796572304880269004?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/1796572304880269004/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=1796572304880269004' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/1796572304880269004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/1796572304880269004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/09/reintalnire.html' title='reintalnire'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-bu_lgFGI/AAAAAAAAADw/q26bp2E2oGo/s72-c/DSC_0322.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-6130039404666379076</id><published>2008-09-01T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T06:40:39.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>love and peace</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0U03sgMssY&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0U03sgMssY&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si pentru ca mi-a fost peste mana zilele astea sa imi incarc acumulatorul de la camera, ma voi(va voi) delecta cu o melodie pe care nu o mai ascultasem de ceva timp si m-am gandit sa o "dau jos din pod".&lt;br /&gt;astazi imi propun sa imi incarc acumulatorul.&lt;br /&gt;cheers'!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-6130039404666379076?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/6130039404666379076/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=6130039404666379076' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/6130039404666379076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/6130039404666379076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/09/love-and-peace.html' title='love and peace'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-1503423232469492123</id><published>2008-08-30T01:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T01:43:06.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>socialist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SLkBKj3RufI/AAAAAAAAACk/bvU7-IcoUbM/s1600-h/DSC_0647.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SLkBKj3RufI/AAAAAAAAACk/bvU7-IcoUbM/s400/DSC_0647.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240220922359691762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am avut ocazia sa intalnesc un nou tip de socializare. treaba sta asa:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. incepem sa ne plangem ca nu avem bani si ca romani fiind avem un trai precar si ziua de maine subreda.&lt;br /&gt;2. auzim ca vecinica de la 2 vrea sa scape de kilogramele in plus si ca isi face abonament la piscina, doar barba'su lucreaza in primarie.&lt;br /&gt;3. ne strangem bugetul, mancam doar doua ridichi pe saptamana ca sa mergem si noi la piscina, ca doar nu vrem sa fim barfite.&lt;br /&gt;4. cheltuim 2 milioane, 80% din pensia noastra pe acest abonament de doua saptamani&lt;br /&gt;5. ajungem la piscina cu o jumatate de ora mai devreme, ca sa fim sigure si in momentul in care intram in apa, facem un bazin demonstrativ *uracioaselor, na ca inca sunt in forta*, dupa care o acostam pe vecinica si stam in mijlocul bazinului la o barfa, cica batutul apei e o miscare buna, ce ma intereseaza ca mai sunt si alti oameni, sa ma ocoleasca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ce am scris nu are legatura cu poza. am pus poza doar ca sa imi demonstrez ca exista si lucruri frumoase in viata; ce am scris are legatura cu ce am patit zilele trecute. este incredibil cat de importanta este imaginea pentru unii oameni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in alte ordini de idei, astept cu nerabdare lansarea unui film cel putin interesant. in ultima vreme am vazut doar filme cu subiecte neinteresante, prost facute, proaste in toata regula, sau am revazut filmele consacrate care deja ma plictisesc. sper sa faca cineva ceva in priviinta asta.&lt;br /&gt;in continuare, hai cu toamna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la ultimul mesaj publicat pe blog am uitat sa imi propun ceva, asa ca voi recupera acum.&lt;br /&gt;imi propun sa fiu mai calma in situatiile jenante in care ma gasesc cand incerc sa inot&lt;br /&gt;imi propun sa incerc cel putin sa suport caldura mai bine&lt;br /&gt;imi propun sa acumulez energia necesara pentru anul greu ce ma asteapta&lt;br /&gt;imi propun sa fiu mai intelegatoare si mai toleranta&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-1503423232469492123?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/1503423232469492123/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=1503423232469492123' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/1503423232469492123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/1503423232469492123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/08/socialist.html' title='socialist'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SLkBKj3RufI/AAAAAAAAACk/bvU7-IcoUbM/s72-c/DSC_0647.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-3957793275856343684</id><published>2008-08-24T11:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T11:44:54.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>drain the blood</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SLGqjFcM3gI/AAAAAAAAACA/IUptgcCjIyU/s1600-h/_DSC0519c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SLGqjFcM3gI/AAAAAAAAACA/IUptgcCjIyU/s320/_DSC0519c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238155361341201922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SLGp5yfKRwI/AAAAAAAAAB4/dyZzlyom3k0/s1600-h/_DSC0515d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SLGp5yfKRwI/AAAAAAAAAB4/dyZzlyom3k0/s320/_DSC0515d.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238154651878704898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SLGo7Q7wAdI/AAAAAAAAABw/-7y9BJ2p45U/s1600-h/_DSC0463f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SLGo7Q7wAdI/AAAAAAAAABw/-7y9BJ2p45U/s320/_DSC0463f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238153577719923154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;putin, ceva, concept.&lt;br /&gt;ultima poza ma face sa imi aduc aminte de vremurile cand o vecina ne spunea povesti despre oamenii din centrul pamantului.ca sunt reflexii ale noastre, ei fac totul pe dos si spun despre noi ca suntem oamenii din centrul pamantului. ma gandeam ca are o imaginatie tare bogata, sau ca e o femeie tare plimbata. dupaia am aflat ca a existat jules verne.&lt;br /&gt;hai cu toamna!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-3957793275856343684?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/3957793275856343684/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=3957793275856343684' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/3957793275856343684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/3957793275856343684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/08/drain-blood.html' title='drain the blood'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SLGqjFcM3gI/AAAAAAAAACA/IUptgcCjIyU/s72-c/_DSC0519c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-1577075005096701051</id><published>2008-08-22T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T11:38:11.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lately</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8C8jMVWFI/AAAAAAAAABI/XC_WEptwgW0/s1600-h/DSC_0033v.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8C8jMVWFI/AAAAAAAAABI/XC_WEptwgW0/s400/DSC_0033v.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237408130917554258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8CkCmRauI/AAAAAAAAABA/iVB4ISZ3nqI/s1600-h/DSC_0012t.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8CkCmRauI/AAAAAAAAABA/iVB4ISZ3nqI/s400/DSC_0012t.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237407709851118306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imi pare rau ca nu aveam camera cu mine cand l-am cumparat; era pus intr-o cutie de 1/1 cu sustinere metalica, impreuna cu alti 200 de confrati. makes you wonder. tind sa cred totusi ca cel pe care mi l-am cumparat eu are personalitate, desi figura sa este un cliseu. intr-o buna zi va ajunge presedinte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8EkFQduwI/AAAAAAAAABY/ubBnrv45v2I/s1600-h/_DSC0431f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8EkFQduwI/AAAAAAAAABY/ubBnrv45v2I/s400/_DSC0431f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237409909588212482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oricand un bun subiect de pozat;nicicand un subiect tabu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8EAN13uzI/AAAAAAAAABQ/nq36vnCcbxo/s1600-h/_DSC0422d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8EAN13uzI/AAAAAAAAABQ/nq36vnCcbxo/s400/_DSC0422d.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237409293417298738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8FRGcB6EI/AAAAAAAAABg/nwvK8ERWTP4/s1600-h/DSC_0268.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8FRGcB6EI/AAAAAAAAABg/nwvK8ERWTP4/s400/DSC_0268.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237410682999269442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;putina puritate; lumea intreaga are nevoie de asa ceva; oamenii ar avea ce invata daca ar privi constient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8GNNXgwTI/AAAAAAAAABo/1SrIABoCmrI/s1600-h/DSC_0332f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8GNNXgwTI/AAAAAAAAABo/1SrIABoCmrI/s400/DSC_0332f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237411715651518770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;putin de se-vrea-pop-art. clisee peste clisee, i need a beer to solve this problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imi imaginam ca ar trebui sa avem "new year's resolutions" in fiecare zi. am fi trait intr-o lume mai ambitioasa daca ar fi fost asa, macar atat. poate voi da startul. de fiecare data cand voi posta pe acest blog, imi voi propune teluri pe care sa le ating, lucruri pe care o sa le fac, sarcini pe care o sa le indeplinesc.&lt;br /&gt;incepand de acum, imi propun sa incerc cel putin sa nu am "cliseu" scris pe frunte, fara a fi categorizata drept "Acei oameni care isi propun sa nu aibe cliseu scris pe frunte". si cu toate astea, de cate ori am spus "cliseu" in acest post. ma uimesc.&lt;br /&gt;that's for now,&lt;br /&gt;new material will come soon, cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-1577075005096701051?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/1577075005096701051/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=1577075005096701051' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/1577075005096701051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/1577075005096701051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/08/lately.html' title='lately'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SK8C8jMVWFI/AAAAAAAAABI/XC_WEptwgW0/s72-c/DSC_0033v.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-1582092560083623462</id><published>2008-08-17T01:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T01:52:37.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>heineken draft beer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://prisms.cs.umass.edu/hotmobile2008/uploads/images/google_logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://prisms.cs.umass.edu/hotmobile2008/uploads/images/google_logo.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e prea cald. e mult mai cald decat mojicul meu corp poate suporta. si aflata in inconvenienta de a iesi la cumparaturi, stateam si ma gandeam. ma uitam la oamenii in varsta, la tineri, ma gandeam ce le trece prin cap si imi si imaginam cum isi arunca fulgere unii altora; "ia' uite-o si pe paparuda asta..pe vremea mea".."ce baba senila"&lt;br /&gt;si dupaia ma gandeam asa. domne, e clar suntem o tara cu un nivel cultural sub linia pamantului. asta nu din cauza manelelor, poate din cauza hi5-ului dar nici el nu are nici o vina saracul. vina o avem noi, ca nu ne preocupa. "cine a fost louis armstrong?" "ce ma intereseaza pe mine, e var cu tata?"&lt;br /&gt;cam astea sunt replicile, pe auzite si probate. si culmea culmilor nu e ca o data la doua saptamani auzi acest dialog, uneori alterat, ci ca toata lumea din jur rade ca la un banc cu alinuta. ce tari sunteti ma.&lt;br /&gt;dupaia mi-a venit ideea. initial eram egocentrista "i'll have it for my own" dar apoi mi-am dat seama ca nu as avea ce face cu el daca restul lumii ar lua orice informatie ca pe un banc. voi face un cip si il voi implanta in creierul tuturor; va contine google-ul. it's all you need in a 21 century decade.&lt;br /&gt;si lasand gluma la o parte, ar trebui sa mai citesc cate ceva pentru ca am devenit cam ruginita. si pentru "abonatii" care imi urmaresc blogul, cei 2-3, trebuie sa anunt ca m-am decis ca momentan sa nu imi mai regurgitez angoasele aici, o sa fie un blog fericit. asta multumita zilei de ieri care mi-a dovedit ca tot raul este spre bine. i had the best night ever and i love them so so so much:D&lt;br /&gt;niste umberto eco, cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-1582092560083623462?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/1582092560083623462/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=1582092560083623462' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/1582092560083623462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/1582092560083623462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/08/heineken-draft-beer.html' title='heineken draft beer'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-7444899372023406723</id><published>2008-08-15T21:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T22:04:08.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sentimente</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKZfusuSQII/AAAAAAAAAA4/fqj9US8MErY/s1600-h/DSC_0658.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKZfusuSQII/AAAAAAAAAA4/fqj9US8MErY/s400/DSC_0658.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234976872748695682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si daca nu cantam despre sex, droguri si alcool, care in esenta sunt tot sentimente, vom canta despre ceea ce simtim.&lt;br /&gt;cantece de dragoste 80%&lt;br /&gt;cantece de jale 15%&lt;br /&gt;cantece de dor 4 %&lt;br /&gt;cantece de ura 1 %&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si desi niciodata nu m-am considerat ca facand parte din minoritati, ca fiind un renegat al societatii, o parie, o exilata, o retrasa si alte apelative la care as putea face referinta, va trebui sa ma gasesc in acel mic 1%. da. de ura. pentru ca desi spunem ca oamenii urasc alti oameni atat de mult incat e singurul sentiment pe care il cunosc, de fapt nu e chiar asa. oamenii se iubesc, doar ca unii iubesc mai mult ca altii, ceea ce duce la jale, care te indreapta spre dor, care te aduce la ura. tranzactia mea a fost rapida, drept pentru care am pierdut cate ceva pe drum, ura mea fiind una dintre componentele sentimentelor care ma alcatuiesc. nu sunt om. sunt niste sentimente puse laolalta.&lt;br /&gt;te intrebi de ce arheologii denumesc niste gropi "locuri sacre" pentru ca a cazut o cometa acu' 'j de mii de ani acolo. de fapt eu cred ca ei se gandesc la altceva. ca ei explora de fapt natura omului acolo.&lt;br /&gt;vedeti, eu ma gandeam asa. daca gaura este situata cum se mai regaseste intre doua localitati, populatii, sentimente spuneti-le cum vreti, acea gaura reprezinta de fapt acumularea vorbelor nespuse.&lt;br /&gt;cand inhabitantul localitatii x a vrut sa ii spuna locatarei din y ca este frumoasa, dar nu a facut-o de teama sa nu se supere, s-a sapat putin&lt;br /&gt;cand x1 a vrut sa ii spuna lui y2 ca o admira pentru ceea ce face, dar nu a facut-o pentru ca nu a vrut sa isi calce pe orgoliu, s-a mai sapat putin&lt;br /&gt;si toate astea pana la cel mai important, cand xn a vrut sa ii spuna imi pare rau lui yn, dar nu a facut-o pentru ca nu ii parea rau de fapt, s-a sapat cel mai adanc, formand un crater.&lt;br /&gt;pentru ca pamantul pe care stam are si el sentimentele sale; eu cred ca gravitatia e de fapt iubirea pe care ne-o da, dar noi de cand ne stim incercam sa invingem gravitatia. suntem niste idioti in adanc cu totii. oricat de savant esti, oricat de bun in ceea ce faci, oricat de binevoitor te crezi a fi, esti de fapt un idiot, pentru ca mereu se va gasi acel x care sa sape in spatele curtii tale cratere.&lt;br /&gt;acum ca deja a fost sapat, astept vreun antreprenor sa vad daca poate ridica vreo cladire, sau e terenul prea afectat. vom vedea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-7444899372023406723?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/7444899372023406723/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=7444899372023406723' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/7444899372023406723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/7444899372023406723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/08/sentimente.html' title='sentimente'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKZfusuSQII/AAAAAAAAAA4/fqj9US8MErY/s72-c/DSC_0658.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-865992146562134255</id><published>2008-08-15T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T06:59:10.097-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ieri'/><title type='text'>oh melody</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKWK3Ag0JQI/AAAAAAAAAAk/SfaHqQdSSNI/s1600-h/DSC_0061v.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKWK3Ag0JQI/AAAAAAAAAAk/SfaHqQdSSNI/s400/DSC_0061v.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234742819523142914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKWHXoyHcoI/AAAAAAAAAAc/VLPnjhdRWuY/s1600-h/DSC_0068c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKWHXoyHcoI/AAAAAAAAAAc/VLPnjhdRWuY/s320/DSC_0068c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234738982042432130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cei doi se intreceau. cel in portocaliu, adept mc, nu intelegea de ce pierde mereu, chiar daca "musca din cascaval"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;privirea e geniala&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-865992146562134255?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/865992146562134255/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=865992146562134255' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/865992146562134255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/865992146562134255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-melody.html' title='oh melody'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKWK3Ag0JQI/AAAAAAAAAAk/SfaHqQdSSNI/s72-c/DSC_0061v.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-6791426195476274934</id><published>2008-08-14T22:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T22:42:53.918-07:00</updated><title type='text'>perete</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKUXUbPyKgI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7nE1M2NHg_E/s1600-h/DSC_0025123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKUXUbPyKgI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7nE1M2NHg_E/s320/DSC_0025123.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234615781566851586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wall of fame&lt;br /&gt;wall of shame&lt;br /&gt;wall of repenting&lt;br /&gt;ne lovim de ziduri mereu.trebuie sa trecem prin ele ca sa ne atingem scopul, si uneori materialul e atat de dur si de actual incat renunti.&lt;br /&gt;ieri cand ma indreptam inspre restaurant ( cu toate durerile si suferintele un om trebuie sa manance) am vazut un perete care m-a facut sa gandesc putin peste granite. daca inainte cu 10 minute totul era negru si lumina era o farsa, brusc lucrurile s-au schimbat. de la un perete..&lt;br /&gt;ingradea niste balarii crescute prea mult. era probabil parasit de mult dar spre deosebire de vremurile cand eram eu mica si treceam prin zona aia tinandu-ma de nas,acum se putea respira;chiar bine as putea adauga, pentru un teren plin de balarii. si merg mai departe si vad scris cu un sablon din doua in doua placi de beton cu un rosu sters "proprietate privata. nu aruncati gunoaie". acum sa ma ierte inalta societate ca va trebui sa fac apel la putin rasism, dar este involuntar. zona este populata de persoane de etnie rroma, cu care eu personal nu am nimic, insa nu mi s-a parut niciodata un neam de oameni obedianti. iata ca au ascultat. poate ca a fost si ceva taxa intre acest armistitiu, cert este ca se vede ca s-a respectat de ambele parti.&lt;br /&gt;si m-a facut sa gandesc. in mod clar nu te duci sa iti arunci gunoaiele in curtea vecinului doar pentru ca suporta mai multi saci. proprietate privata...nu aruncati gunoaie...fiind proprietatea mea privata m-am decis ca ar fi cazul sa umblu intre gunoaiele din mine, si sa sortez ce sa dau mai departe spre o groapa de gunoi in toata regula si ce ar putea fi folositor, un pop art de toata frumusetea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-6791426195476274934?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/6791426195476274934/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=6791426195476274934' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/6791426195476274934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/6791426195476274934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/08/perete.html' title='perete'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKUXUbPyKgI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7nE1M2NHg_E/s72-c/DSC_0025123.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-1854254921007041402</id><published>2008-08-14T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T08:12:41.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>deja-vu, deja-senti.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKRLVgxRlhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OdxWIlVzUt8/s1600-h/DSC_0788b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKRLVgxRlhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OdxWIlVzUt8/s320/DSC_0788b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234391499857303058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pentru ca uneori nu poti singur, dar sti ca nu vei avea acel ajutor de caracter cinematografic, in care un baiat intalneste o fata si ramane alaturi de ea pana cand cancerul o mananca din interior inspre exterior. el mereu a fost cancerul meu. totul incepe intre coaste si se termina cu tenul tau perfect. ceea ce la inceput spui ca este euforia zambetului sau, ce iti provoaca fluturi in stomac si dorinta de a-ti exprima iubirea in cele mai inedite modalitati, ajunge a fi pe parcurs greata rutinei, durerea inselaciunii pana ce apoi te devoreaza definitiv, ca un leu ce fuge speriat prin savana, pierdut de turma sa, flamand de carne cruda, singur, trist, indurerat, dar vesnic mai puternic decat tine.&lt;br /&gt;si apoi te gasesti singur. incuiat intr-o cutie in care spiritele asteapta un verdict, care insa intarzie sa apara. si astepti, si pui filmul de la capat, iar si iar si iar, pana ce intelegi ce s-a intamplat clar.&lt;br /&gt;ai asteptat destul. ai vazut ceea ce era de vazut. ti-ai dat seama ca ai suferit de o boala mentala ce ti-a provocat imaginatia sa o ia razna. a fost rodul mintii tale si te-ai iubit singura, ai suferit singura, ai ras singura, ai plans singura, si ca un act de pur sadism, te-ai lasat convinsa ca esti sustinuta de acea singura persoana care nu va putea vreodata sa te raneasca. te-a ranit. incepand cu inceputul si terminand cu...cu ce? nu poate fi sfarsitul! nu inca! nu s-a terminat! nu asa am vazut ca se va intampla; nu am apucat sa sarut broscoiul!&lt;br /&gt;te gasesti plina de cicatricele trecutului care tu credeai ca s-au vindecat. te uiti mai atent si de fapt au fost mereu rani deschise;s-au infectat acum. vomiti la vederea sangelui inchegat, plin de puroi si zeama, stai sa te ineci in propria voma si nu mai mori. nu mori pentru ca nu meriti sa mori. pentru ca nu ai gresit cu nimic. si totusi te ineci in propria voma, oripilata de puroiul ce sare din toate partile. te gandesti de ce tu, toata povestea ta este un film prost la care te uiti cand ti-a murit papagalul si realizezi ca esti prea mare sa plangi dupa el, si te ascunzi dupa dramatismul acestei povesti al unei fete ce a supravietuit razboiului, ranita si indurerata, singura si speriata. plangi! acum ai o scuza. chiar si asa, de ce sa nu intram in politica. pana la urma orice lucru are o politica a sa. de la razboaie pana la marirea pensiilor si chiar pana la intretinerea unei relatii.&lt;br /&gt;politica relatiei a fost simpla. doar ca partidul de stanga a intrat in conflict cu cel de dreapta. cel de dreapta invingand. si cum, intr-o societate dominata de aparente, sa te dai invins? mergi inainte cu capul sus chiar daca ai fost umilit. asa trebuie! asa ne spune "codul societatii"&lt;br /&gt;si in aceasta cutie te gasesti sperand. speri ca mai e cineva cu tine. simti respiratia lor rece dar cand intinzi mainile nu atingi nimic. te sperie si mai rau si tipi, dar nimeni nu iti raspunde. si stai si astepti. ceva nou. sau acelasi lucru vechi. nici tu nu sti ce vrei. iti doresti sa visezi, sa ajungi in locurile pe care le vizitai cand erai doar un copil. felicitari esti doar un copil iar! dar sunetul prezentului rasuna in urechile tale crude. iti apar ranile si te sperii mai rau ca orice. inchizi ochii si te trezesti la loc...&lt;br /&gt;e totul negru, si s-ar spune ca trebuie sa se gaseasca o lumina in capat. ori ai orbit, ori te-au pacalit..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-1854254921007041402?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/1854254921007041402/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=1854254921007041402' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/1854254921007041402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/1854254921007041402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/08/deja-vu-deja-senti.html' title='deja-vu, deja-senti.'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SKRLVgxRlhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OdxWIlVzUt8/s72-c/DSC_0788b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6989239053865776070.post-365680796006133930</id><published>2008-03-03T12:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T12:56:18.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>umanitate</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;si acum ca tot omul, de ce nu as avea blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6989239053865776070-365680796006133930?l=butterschotchj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/feeds/365680796006133930/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6989239053865776070&amp;postID=365680796006133930' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/365680796006133930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6989239053865776070/posts/default/365680796006133930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterschotchj.blogspot.com/2008/03/umanitate.html' title='umanitate'/><author><name>a g s</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17195717935170607263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C3nldjCw0Oo/SL-a4K_hLTI/AAAAAAAAADY/8XwLLd_5EnE/S220/DSC_0195.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
