<?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-8264869258059006170</id><updated>2012-01-30T14:14:20.817-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moxi.s mind.</title><subtitle type='html'>fumez prea mult. zambesc prea mult. imi imaginez prea multe.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-6965293187325739506</id><published>2011-09-12T04:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T11:02:55.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So here it is.. Flat out and simple. Which do you trust? Your heart? Or your head?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, your heart will lead you where you wanna be, but your head will lead you where you ought to be. But which will lead you where you.re meant to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I followed my heart and it led me where I am, but my head is continously telling me that I.m not where I should be, by reminding me of the pain I go through just being where I am... But I ask myself what if this is meant? Although is hard, although it hurts, although it feels a time that it may not be fair. What if this is truly meant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I weigh this out, stick with it through all the pain and hard work and then it all pays off? What if I can change his life and in return he changes mine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again.. What if I weigh this out, stick with it through all the pain and hard work and it falls to pieces?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I care more about me? Or him? Who should I love more? Am I willing to hurt him now and save myself later? Or put myself on the line and save him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end I guess it all comes down to what kind of person you are. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Am I a thinker? Or am I a feeler?&lt;/span&gt; Do I plan ahead? Or do I follow my wimbs? Do I use logic? Or do I use compasion? Do I give condemnations or chances? Or even more... Which one does he make me wanna be?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-6965293187325739506?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/6965293187325739506/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=6965293187325739506' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/6965293187325739506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/6965293187325739506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2011/09/so-here-it-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-7549346329240360663</id><published>2011-03-07T12:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T12:04:13.632-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"deja ma cunosti in totalitate, desi mi-ar placea sa ma cunosti mai bine.  ma ai in totalitate, desi mi-ar placea sa ma mai castigi putin."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-7549346329240360663?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/7549346329240360663/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=7549346329240360663' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/7549346329240360663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/7549346329240360663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2011/03/deja-ma-cunosti-in-totalitate-desi-mi.html' title=''/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-4484123636881568398</id><published>2010-06-23T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T07:15:11.924-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Cand afara ploua mult prea mult iar peretii camerei mele nu ma mai incap, ma imbrac intr.o pelerina plasticata si ies sa ma cert cu norii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sub pelerina, undeva in adancul coastelor mele tin ascuns un oras intreg unde nu ploua niciodata. Pe strazile din mine simti numai parfum de barbat. Fiecare dintre ei poarta legat de mana un carnetel in care le.am marcat cu linii ca de puscarias de cate ori au intrat si iesit din oras. Aveam mustrari de constiinta de fiecare data cand intra unul nou si se pierdea prin cotloanele intunecoase ale firii mele si ma chinuiam sa tin portile inchise cand vroia sa plece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Din punct de vedere stiintific, dragostea e masurata in intensitatea sinapselor in timpul actului sexual. Din punctul meu de vedere, dragostea se masoara in adancimea urmelor lasate in cimentul din mine. Am iubit si iubesc, motiv pentru care drumurile mele sunt pline de gropi adevarate, care ar putea inghiti masini oricand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-4484123636881568398?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/4484123636881568398/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=4484123636881568398' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/4484123636881568398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/4484123636881568398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2010/06/cand-afara-ploua-mult-prea-mult-iar.html' title=''/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-1270846960219757535</id><published>2010-05-10T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T07:25:27.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Si ce te faci cand incepi sa simti o ruptura in moalele pieptului, de parca timpu.ti sfasie carnea pe dinautru si te lasa franjuri vii?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-1270846960219757535?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/1270846960219757535/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=1270846960219757535' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/1270846960219757535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/1270846960219757535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2010/05/si-ce-te-faci-cand-incepi-sa-simti-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-4627041688846321254</id><published>2010-02-15T10:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T11:00:32.299-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Iar luni.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;08:00-10:50 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fete in jurul unei mese, barfe si rasete. street, cafeaua de dimineata. sex and the city varianta liceeana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to school, ultima banca randul din mijloc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11:00 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caiet de tip messenger cu miros dulceag, bio si tipuri de respiratii. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12:00 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D: Stii de ce nu o pornit trabantu de la semafor?&lt;br /&gt;D: Ca s.o lipit intr.o guma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13:00&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Bun venit la inca o ora de plictiseala. Lectia de astazi-sinuciderea din plictiseala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13:58&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 minute ce ma despart de libertate provizorie. abia astept sa ma ridic din banca, sa.mi fatai fundul pe coridor pana la Record si sa.mi aprind o tigara cu un aer de "the ultimate biatch". damn, today i feel pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14:25&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultima clasa ramasa in scoala. clase goale si tacute. info, caractere, notatii si algoritmi cu care nu sunt compatibila. defapt, azi nu sunt compatibila cu nimic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14:29&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un scartait agasant si o colega de banca stresata din cauza mediilor. urmeaza 16 saptamani de scoala, stres. absente, cafele, bani cheltuiti si povesti epuizate. PANICA-PANICA! vreau acum vara, dimineti calde, muzica.n surdina in casti si stat chilleanu pe banca in parc. vreau mare, party.uri nebunesti, nisip lipit pe pielea lui fierbinte, ochelari de soare chic si conversi uzati in vama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14:33&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aberez, mai e mult pana atunci... Back to school.&lt;br /&gt;cin&gt;&gt;"vreau la mare".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14:37&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piele de gaina, fluturi in stomac. imi amintesc cum m.a sarutat apasat pe buze ieri inainte sa plec.. zambesc cu toata pofta inimii. I.m in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14:40&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diriga vorbeste la telefon, clasa se hlizeste dintr.un motiv oarecare. eu ii observ pe toti din spatele clasei si nu ma gandesc la nimic. am facut scurt-circuit de la plictiseala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14:50&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diriga tocmai ne.a facut oi ce alearga fericite pe campie. se pare ca nu doar eu sunt plictisita si fabulez in ultimul hal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14:52&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne bagam piciorul in ele optionale. nu vrem ore in plus, nici macar nu venim la cele care sunt obligatorii. dezinteres total pentru propriul nostru viitor. lumea merge pe p***.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14:57&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cand e A, vreau sa fie B. iar cand e B, vreau sa fie A".&lt;br /&gt;Thanks God ca l.am gasit, ca e doar al meu, ca nu mai trebuie sa fac liste cu plusuri si minusuri, sa vad care e mai potrivit pentru mine. Damn, I.m so in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14:58 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diriga vorbeste singura, clasa o ignora. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15:03&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunt deja cu fetele la tigara langa Argos. sex and the city varianta liceeana, partea a 2a.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-4627041688846321254?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/4627041688846321254/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=4627041688846321254' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/4627041688846321254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/4627041688846321254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2010/02/iar-luni.html' title='Iar luni.'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-6563130144306306629</id><published>2010-02-02T01:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T14:14:20.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Stiu ca ti.e teama ca orice i.ai spune, iti frange ideile in bucatele si le analizeaza ca pe o fraza fara punct. Si ca din degetele alea mici si frumoase, cu unghii ingrijite, iti scrie cinci propozitii si te desfiinteaza emotional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te aduce la paroxism cand iti vorbeste despre tine cu atata usurinta, de parca te tine deschis pe palme ca pe.o carte cu litere dintr.un alfabet  strain doar tie. Mai bate din gene, mai trage un fum, mai citeste o pagina din tine. Si te intrebi daca doar cu tine poate face asta sau are intr-adevar un al saselea simt cu care ii dezbraca pe toti de secrete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si te.ai gandit vreodata ca ai propriul tau dumnezeu care sta intr.o bucatarie, cu o tigara aprinsa, scrie pe laptop si.ti descoase tie mintea?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-6563130144306306629?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/6563130144306306629/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=6563130144306306629' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/6563130144306306629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/6563130144306306629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2010/02/stiu-ca-ti.html' title=''/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-5148924331727029910</id><published>2010-01-27T08:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T09:15:25.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce zici, vrei sa ma porti astazi?</title><content type='html'>Uneori, mi.as dori sa pot desface cu un fermoar pielea de pe mine&lt;br /&gt;sa o las aruncata pe podea&lt;br /&gt;iar tu, curios sa aflii ce simt eu&lt;br /&gt;sa te imbraci in ea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-5148924331727029910?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/5148924331727029910/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=5148924331727029910' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/5148924331727029910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/5148924331727029910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2010/01/pot-sati-imprumut-azi-pielea.html' title='Ce zici, vrei sa ma porti astazi?'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-5001078687863405087</id><published>2009-10-17T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T23:55:45.919-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Schimb de replici de teatru, interpretare proasta. nu m.am nascut actrita si nici nu voi putea fi una niciodata. sau cel putin, nu in prezenta ta. hai sa lasam copilariile, let.s act like adults. hai sa tragem cortina, sa ne iubim in spatele ei, sa uitam de scenarii si de spectatori.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actul 1&lt;br /&gt;-Uita.te la mine, fraiere! esti sigur ca vrei sa plec?&lt;br /&gt;-Azi am nevoie de.o cafea tare. de.o tigara. si de tine..&lt;br /&gt;-Tu ma vrei doar cand ai nevoie de cineva sa te prinda de picioare si sa te traga inapoi pe pamant.&lt;br /&gt;-Poate, dar azi vreau sa ma visez cu tine. pot?&lt;br /&gt;-Parola.&lt;br /&gt;-Te iubesc.&lt;br /&gt;-Cliseu. Stii, nu ma meriti.&lt;br /&gt;-Inghit in sec.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actul 2&lt;br /&gt;Teatrul adevarat se produce in spatele cortinei, doar ca fara cuvinte. sex de impacare?&lt;br /&gt;In sunetul de aplauze, ma dezbrac. hainele devin prea stramte pentru ego.ul meu. ma priveste de parca as fi nebuna.&lt;br /&gt;-Stiu ca ma vrei.&lt;br /&gt;-Te.am avut deja.&lt;br /&gt;Ma saruta in spatele urechii, ii aud respiratia, parca imi abureste timpanul. Imi masoara pulsul cu buricele degetelor, imi atinge gatul, coboara.. Ma smucesc din bratele lui.&lt;br /&gt;-Nu ma mai chinui.&lt;br /&gt;In loc de raspuns ma saruta apasat pe buze. simt ca.mi dau lacrimile. am uitat de mult sa tratez sexul ca pe un sport. ...o adevarata stare de spirit?&lt;br /&gt;Il simt in mine. Parca acum ajungem la un echilibru. Si nu vreau sa.l las, nu vreau sa.mi dea drumul din brate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actul 3&lt;br /&gt;Intinsi pe podeaua rece, tinandu.ne de mana. imi place cum imi sclipesc sanii umezi de transpiratie in lumina reflectoarelor. acum cuvintele chiar ar fi de prisos.&lt;br /&gt;Soptesc in minte rugaciunea pe care o spun de fiecare data cand facem dragoste nebuna:&lt;br /&gt;"Fii tu langa mine, gandeste.te la mine.&lt;br /&gt;poarta.te tandru cu mine, nu ma chinui, nu ma face geloasa.&lt;br /&gt;nu ma parasi, caci n.as mai suporta inca o ruptura.&lt;br /&gt;fii langa mine, tine cu mine"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-5001078687863405087?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/5001078687863405087/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=5001078687863405087' title='10 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/5001078687863405087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/5001078687863405087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2009/10/schimb-de-replici-de-teatru.html' title=''/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-6853226486135529142</id><published>2009-09-10T04:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T05:12:43.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dulapul cu fobii din camera mea...</title><content type='html'>...e de culoarea untului. nebunia varstei de 6 ani m.a manat sa scrijelesc cu o cheie pe usile perfect lacuite linii care se citesc orizontal sau vertical, de la dreapta sau de la stanga. dupa ani intregi, in liceu, cand am invatat nenorocita aia de funtie de gradu' 2, am realizat ca am trasat pe dulap un fel de grafic, reperul cartezian al vietii mele, cu tot cu parabola asociata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand nu.mi dau seama in ce punct al graficului sunt, deschid dulapul si.mi contemplez fobiile. le tin atarnate pe umerase, ca pe niste rochii, aranjate dupa culoare. prima e cea neagra, fobia de intuneric. era preferata mea cand eram mica. asta pana cand mama a varsat clor pe ea si a ramas cu o pata alba; asa mi.a adus lumina in viata iar de atunci nu ma mai tem de intuneric. urmeaza cea maro, frica de lifturi. ultima oara cand am purtat.o m.am blocat in liftul bunicii mele cu vecinu' ei cel mega cute de la sase. am povestit cu el ore intregi pana au venit cei de la "interventii ascensoare" si ne.au scos dintre etaje. atunci mi.a pierit frica  de lifturi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Privind linia curbata a parabolei si culorile fobiilor mele, observ in ce sens am evoluat. iihmmm.. i think it.s what they call "growing up".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De.o vreme incoace ma imbrac doar in fobia de singuratate. detest sa stau de una singura, e prea multe liniste si.mi aud gandurile de om solitar. atunci am senzatia ca populatia lumii este un numar fix par, jumatate barbati, jumatate femei, iar toti inafara de mine au pereche. asa, de parca eu as fii imparul, singura persoana nenorocita de pe planeta care nu are pe mine sa o tina de mana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De la cum am purtat.o atat de mult si de la soare, mi se pare ca.nceput sa mi se decoloreze fobia. din albastru marin s.a facut culoarea "un strop de cerneala in doi litri de apa".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conspiratie sau coincidenta? Complot al universului sau haos benefic? pe cand fobia mea de singuratate si.a pierdut culoarea de tot, ai aparut tu. m.ai dezbracat de toate temerile si le.ai aruncat pe pat. am facut dragoste peste ele si le.am sifonat pana n.au mai insemnat nimic pentru mine. iar de dimineata, cand m.am trezit cu capul pe aceeasi perna cu tine si m.am uitat catre dulapul de culoarea untului am zambit multumita. Am ajuns in varful maxim al parabolei.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-6853226486135529142?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/6853226486135529142/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=6853226486135529142' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/6853226486135529142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/6853226486135529142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2009/09/dulapul-cu-fobii-din-camera-mea.html' title='Dulapul cu fobii din camera mea...'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-2687896695316238856</id><published>2009-08-07T16:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T16:35:02.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Are ochi de ciocolata si priveste uite.asa..  are buzele moi si mereu pregatite sa sarute cu teama cate.o tigara neaprinsa. Daca n.as stii ca locuieste pe scara mea si ca e pamanteanca, as fi crezut ca e vreo zeitate din parul careia curge soarele. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O urmaresc in fiecare dimineata de pe geam cum iese din scara si fuge sa prinda tramvaiul in timp ce maruntisul pentru cafea ii zangane in poseta ei mica si gri.  Cred ca e scriitoare, poarta palarii ca bunica si uneori sta in scara pana noaptea tarziu, cu un caiet si.un creion pe genunchi. Am intrebat.o odata pe mama cum o cheama si mi.a raspuns intepata « Numeste.o cum vrei, eu o numesc ciudata ».&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sta la etaju’ 4, deasupra mea, acolo unde bate.n geamuri un tei batran. Cand mama ma pune sa.i duc supa batranicii care sta vis-a-vis de scriitoarea mea, simt un iz de cafea impletit cu parfumul ei de vanilie. De multe ori am vazut iesind pe usa de lemn a apartamentului un barbat plin de umbre. Are parul ciufulit, barba nerasa si camasa vesnic sifonata. Mi.e atat de frica de ochii lui incat in noptile cu luna plina am cosmaruri ca ma urmaresc doi ochi straini mai negri decat intunericul. Am incercat de multe ori sa o inteleg pe scriitoare mea cum il poate iubi. Sunt sigura ca.l iubeste si ca o iubeste, pentru ca noaptea, atunci cand e liniste, ii aud cum fac dragoste pana in zori. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stii pastra un secret? Ei bine, si eu o iubesc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-2687896695316238856?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/2687896695316238856/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=2687896695316238856' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/2687896695316238856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/2687896695316238856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2009/08/are-ochi-de-ciocolata-si-priveste-uite.html' title=''/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-7092803723663132918</id><published>2009-07-10T05:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T05:43:19.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A trecut mai bine de juma' de an de cand ne.am cunoscut si mai bine de.o luna de cand am renuntat la tine. Si sunt fericita. Nu.mi reprosez ca ti.am uitat parfumul sau ca pot ridica fruntea sus dupa toate cele intamplate. Si nici nu.mi pare rau ca nu m.am lasat de fumat doar pentru ca tu mi.ai cerut.o. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa nu crezi ca nu te.am iubit, pentru ca am facut.o exact asa cum trebuie iubit. Cu fluturi in stomac, cu palpitatii, cu lacrimi. Problema e ca odata, in timp ce dormeam, cineva a construit in pat intre noi un zid din carti de dragoste cu sfarsit trist. Si asa m.am trezit eu intr.o dimineata fara tine si am constatat ca e ok si asa. Plus ca "domnisoara cea matura' nu e deloc asa, poate nu.ti dai seama insa eu stiu prea bine. Nu poti cere unei capsuni sa fie dulce daca nu e coapta inca. And baby, I.m still green!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi sting tigara cu patos in scrumiera si cu asta mi.am incheiat discursul de "La revedere, n.o sa.mi lipsesti deloc". Sorb ultimul strop de cafea, arunc pachetul de kent 8 in geanta si.mi zambesc in oglinda. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hai, afara cu tine! Fugi si iubeste.te cu soarele, ca si tu o meriti!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-7092803723663132918?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/7092803723663132918/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=7092803723663132918' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/7092803723663132918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/7092803723663132918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2009/07/trecut-mai-bine-de-juma-de-de-cand-ne.html' title=''/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-2274268942409293848</id><published>2009-06-02T06:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:02:58.037-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De ce iubiti femeile? partea a 2a</title><content type='html'>"Moxi.: Auzi, de ce iubiti femeile?&lt;br /&gt;Caramida :x: exista o vb:))  da despre femei &lt;br /&gt;Caramida :x: ma lasi sa ti-o zic?&lt;br /&gt;Moxi.: spune&lt;br /&gt;Moxi.: :))&lt;br /&gt;Caramida :x: Fiule cu fata mare pierzi mult timp pana ajungi unde vrei thu ,cu doamnele iti pierzi banii pana ajungi unde vrei thu , iar cu curvele iti pierzi dragostea &lt;br /&gt;Moxi.: :)))))&lt;br /&gt;Moxi.: buna vorba asta, buna&lt;br /&gt;Moxi.: :))"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tin sa spun ca nu m.a lamurit aproape deloc. Am inteles doar ca orice ar fi ei dispusi  sa ne ofere: rabdare, bani, sentimente, intr.un final tot o sa le piarda. Oare noi femeile suntem persoane chiar atat de ingrate? Luam doar ce ne trebuie fara sa oferim nimic la schimb apoi plecam, asta in cazul in care ei nu se satura de noi si de mofturile noastre si pleaca inainte?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am invatat pe parcurs ca oricat de mult i.am intelege, aprecia sau iubi niciodata nu e ok. Cand binele e gata, asta daca el exista vreodata, incep reprosurile si intrebarile retorice dureroase. "Ti.am oferit totul si tu n.ai facut decat sa te joci cu mine" sau "Tu m.ai iubit vreodata?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cateodata am impresia ca ne privesc de parca am fii automate de cafea. Introduc fisele si asteapta cafeaua. Problema e ca niciodata nu e indeajuns de dulce sau de calda. Tot timpul exista cate o hiba. Uneori cafeaua nu curge deloc, cica automatul e stricat, nu moneda gaurita pe care n.o putem citi nicicum. "Bag piciorul, mi.a inghitit banii si nervii". Rar cafeaua e in regula si pe gustul lor. Ironia e ca odata si odata tot se plcitisesc de gustul ala si pleaca la alt aparat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..Da.mi inca o tigara si paseaza.mi bricheta. Baga cafeaua la microunde ca e rece si apoi pleaca, azi n.am chef de tine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-2274268942409293848?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/2274268942409293848/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=2274268942409293848' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/2274268942409293848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/2274268942409293848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2009/06/de-ce-iubiti-femeile-partea-2a.html' title='De ce iubiti femeile? partea a 2a'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-5979695567184966366</id><published>2009-05-31T02:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T11:50:51.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De ce iubiti femeile?</title><content type='html'>Imi fierbe cafeaua in ibric pe aragaz si imprastie un miros de independenta in toata casa. Amestecat cu fumul de tigara de la un kent 8, mirosul imi dezvolta multe prea multe intrebari. De ce iubiti femeile? De ce ne iubiti? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ieri, asteptand sa ma intalnesc cu prietenul meu, intru intr.o cafenea, cu gandul ca beau o cafea si fumez cateva tigari linistita, doar eu si gandurile mele. Ma asez la masuta din colt unde stau de obicei cand n.am chef de nimic. Comand cafeaua si imi aprind o tigara. Nu apuc sa fumez nici macar un sfert din ea, ca si apare un tip care.si tranteste berea la mine pe masa, intrebandu.ma daca poate sa.mi tina companie. Nu l.am refuzat, oricum in 10 minute aveam sa plec. Fara sa.l intreb ceva, imi spune ca iubeste femeile independente, care stiu ce vor. "Mi.am dat seama ca esti una dinasta dupa cum iti fumezi tigara. Tragi din ea si inchizi ochii de parca e singurul scop, singura ta placere." Am preferat doar sa rad. Dupa 15 minute de povesti, mi.am dat seama ca Sebi e genul de tip caruia ii place sa fie tinut sub papuc. Preferabil unul cu toc de 8 cm, rosu. Iubeste sa asculte indicatiile regizorale ale unei femei. Iar daca vreodata femeia de langa el se plictiseste sa.l mai calauzeasca si pleaca, el ramane in urma ei, in dara de parfum, prea mut si speriat ca sa o aduca  inapoi la el. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;-Iubeste femeia pentru independenta si caracterul ei; asta pentru ca el nu le detine-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recent, am incheiat o relatie de 5 luni absolut superba. Nu intru in detaliile despartirii pentru ca au fost multe si urate. Prefer sa ma rezum la "all good things come to an end". In el am gasit tot ce.mi trebuia la vremea respectiva. Genul de tip care nu dadea doi lei pe.o fata, asta pana cand apare una care.n mod involuntar il schimb vizibil. O iubeste si il iubeste. Si totusi apare un moment cand ea o da in bara. Certuri, plansete si multe "imi pare rau". Paradoxal, va iubim mai mult dupa ce va inselam. Iar voi iubiti momentul in care spuneti "ok, hai sa ne impacam..." desi nu spuneti niciodata si continuarea "...dar sa nu cumva sa.ti imaginezi ca voi uita vreodata ce mi.ai facut sau ca voi omite sa.ti amintesc asta cu fiecare ocazie". Zis si facut. Desi a continuat frumos, aduce in discutie de fiecare data cele intamplate. Ehh, my bad :) N.am avut de ales decat sa.l ascult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;-Iubeste femeia sincer, din multe puncte de vedere. Dar cel mai mult o iubeste cand ea greseste, pentru ca adora sa o ierte-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be continued. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-5979695567184966366?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/5979695567184966366/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=5979695567184966366' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/5979695567184966366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/5979695567184966366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2009/05/de-ce-iubiti-femeile.html' title='De ce iubiti femeile?'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-377599017920317438</id><published>2009-03-24T11:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T11:55:23.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Un ceas stricat pe perete. cum voi mai stii eu cand o sa apari? ma obsedeaza paralizia acelor acestuia si.ncerc sa le imping spre ora 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Asteapta.ma pe fotoliul moale din camera cu parchet prafuit. ajung la 3. dimineata."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uitasem cum e sa ne jucam de.a intalnirea. ea sa.mi scrie un biletel intotdeauna cu aceeasi cerneala, cu vesnicele ei litere apasate in hartia apretata in parfumul sau. eu sa o astept ore intregi, sa.mi sufoc timpul cu nerabdarea mea iar cand apare, sa o cert ca a intarziat, chiar daca e ora fixa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma emotioneaza ca e o camera cu pereti de.un infinit alb. "Fotoliul moale", cum ii spune ea mereu, e defapt singurul scaun din incapere, unul cu tapiterie crem, patata de timp. pana nu demult, imi imparteam agitatia doar cu scaunul de sub mine care uneori devenea chiar cel mai bun prieten al meu. tacea cand plangeam, scartaia cand radeam, ma sustinea cand ma lasau genunchii de emotie. acum, ceasul asta nenorocit crede ca ma ajuta cu ceva daca imparte dorul din mine in 24 de unghiuri, apoi fiecare unghi in cate 60 de cioburi, ca intr.un sfarsit mii de aschii de dor sa ma intepe prin tot trupul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand deja simt ca tot interiorul meu sangereaza de la intepaturi, atunci apare ea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ai intarziat!&lt;br /&gt;-Nu prostuto, n.am intarziat. E fix.&lt;br /&gt;-Atunci.. bine ca ai venit. Daca ai mai fi intarziat o singura secunda, as fi murit de dot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-377599017920317438?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/377599017920317438/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=377599017920317438' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/377599017920317438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/377599017920317438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2009/03/un-ceas-stricat-pe-perete.html' title=''/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-44087131886322462</id><published>2009-01-07T10:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T12:01:24.649-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vino/pleaca.</title><content type='html'>Noroc ca arat ca un om normal. prea s.ar zgaii toti la mine daca as fi taiata in jumatate. topaind intr.un picior pe strada, inghitind lumea cu un singur ochi, zambind timid cu jumatate de gura, fumand o tigara cu singura mana pe care o am. si stii ce.ar fii si mai ciudat? ...n.ar pulsa o inima undeva langa unicul meu plaman. jumatatea cu inima e la tine. bine ca am carne pe mine si.mi acopera tot golul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand esti aici, ma umpli ca pe un recipient. iti absorb trupul lichid prin pori si te simt cum imi picuri in interior. trezesti in mine cu fiecare strop unde de sentimente. imi completezi toate lipsurile, iei formea mea si.mi implinesti fiinta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand nu esti aici, peretii din  mine se usuca si se cojesc. poti dezlipi de pe ei amintiri foita cu foita. iar cand tu chiar nu mai apari, cineva vine si matura praful din mine. uneori chiar strange pumni intregi de colb si.l sufla in aer. degeaba, oricum ma pierd pana sa te gasesc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haide, ia.ma, umple.ma.&lt;br /&gt;satura.ma, pleaca, uita.&lt;br /&gt;revino, sufoca.ma, iubeste.ma.&lt;br /&gt;ramai pentru totdeauna.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-44087131886322462?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/44087131886322462/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=44087131886322462' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/44087131886322462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/44087131886322462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2009/01/vinopleaca.html' title='Vino/pleaca.'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-8259588286388035852</id><published>2008-12-22T09:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T10:01:29.171-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Radiatii.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dMQoUI9DYLA/SU_V1Vb3caI/AAAAAAAAAGE/ZnmZKiSye94/s1600-h/Copy+of+IMG_0141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 158px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dMQoUI9DYLA/SU_V1Vb3caI/AAAAAAAAAGE/ZnmZKiSye94/s320/Copy+of+IMG_0141.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282676000192688546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imbracat intr.un halat alb de doctor paseste apasat prin fata mea. a uitat cum sa.mi citeasca interiorul gol. daca pana nu demult se uita inauntrul meu ca intr.o carte deschisa, vazand cum fierb emotiile in mine, acum m.am inchis in propriul meu contur iar el nu poate sa ma taie cu bisturiul sa ma deschida din nou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dementa de cititor insetat se reflecta pe fondul negru al pupilei mele. se chinuie sa desluseasca vreo reactie in umbra genelor mele. isi ingroapa capul in palme de fiecare data cand ii zambesc indiferenta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crede ca daca stie ce simt, ma va putea repara. ilar, cum sa ma faca bine din nou cand nici macar eu nu stiu ce ma doare?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, si printre ganduri a gasit si solutia. imi trage cearsaful de pe umeri si imi lipeste sanii goi de.o placa rece de metal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se grabeste sa apese un buton. un "tac" si stiu ca s.a sfarsit consultatia.&lt;br /&gt;Dear x-ray machine, pretend you don.t know me so well, i won.t tell if you lied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-8259588286388035852?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/8259588286388035852/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=8259588286388035852' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/8259588286388035852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/8259588286388035852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/12/radiatii.html' title='Radiatii.'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dMQoUI9DYLA/SU_V1Vb3caI/AAAAAAAAAGE/ZnmZKiSye94/s72-c/Copy+of+IMG_0141.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-7977492156174153892</id><published>2008-12-05T15:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T15:06:51.451-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Testament emotional</title><content type='html'>Pe masura ce degetele mele se plimba pe spatele tau, relieful pielii tale mi se intipareste adanc pe cortexul cerebral. iti cunosc fiecare por inundat de emotie, fiecare cuta adancita, fiecare fir de par de pe mana care se zbarleste cand iti suflu aer caldut peste trupul gol. iar cand nu.ti mai simt transpiratia pulsand pe piele, cand cutele impietresc iar firele de par ma gadila inerte cu fiecare atingere a mea, stiu ca ai murit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poti sa iubesti atat de tare incat sa mori? sa simti cum ceva creste inauntrul tau cand ea iti sopteste “te iubesc” incat sa mori sufocat in propria incantare? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da, stiu ca poti sa mori doar din atat. am simtit.o chiar eu. sangele nu.mi mai traversa partile insetate ale corpului, de frica sa nu te sperie cu miscarea lui haotica. am privit in gol timp de sute de secunde vesnice, nedorind sa inchid ochii, constienta fiind ca imaginea ta se va frange intre pleoapele mele umede. am invatat sa respir vid, de teama sa nu.ti consum gazul vital. nu.mi puteam permite sa te speriu, sa.ti pierd trasaturile de pe retina, sa te sufoc. si atunci am murit. am murit pentru tine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iar cand invii, dorinta de viata te innebuneste. ...sa strangi de mana persoana care te.a omorat acum 30 de secunde, sa te sarute apasat pe buze si sa.ti lase un gust dulce-amarui, un fel de “bine ai revenit”. sa mori mental pentru o persoana si sa.ti refaci ideile si gandurile, sentimentele si emotiile, pulsul inimii si respiratia.. de ce? sa mai poti muri odata, inca o data, si inca o data..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu de cate ori ai murit? Defapt, de cate ori ai iubit?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-7977492156174153892?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/7977492156174153892/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=7977492156174153892' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/7977492156174153892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/7977492156174153892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/12/testament-emotional.html' title='Testament emotional'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-2745121107347132771</id><published>2008-12-03T14:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T15:27:46.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Incurabil.</title><content type='html'>Daca as putea sa torc fiecare fir de emotie, stii foarte bine ca as face.o. as impleti amintirile noastre exact asa cum m.a invatat mama sa impletesc parul papusilor cand eram mica. cand as termina sfoara sentimentelor, as imbiba.o in mirosul tau si as inchide.o intr.un cufar vechi, cu un lacat mare si rece. nimeni nu ar avea cheia. am stii doar noi cum sa il deschidem; am mangaia fierul ruginit iar el ne.ar recunoaste amprentele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peretii zgariati cu mesajele noastre ai cufarului ar mai adaposti si vocile noastre amortite. cand nu mai stii cum sa.ti exprimi sentimentele, mai bine taci, stii ca voi intelege. din amalgamul nostru de idei rostite, as alege.o doar pe cea care se termina in "noapte buna, te iubesc". as pune.o pe repeat la nesfarsit, sa inteleaga si lemnul prostut cat de mult ne iubim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peste cutiile cu zambete si eprubetele cu saruturi vitale as arunca cearceaful tau.  degetele tale strangeau cutele nevii si simteam cum defapt ma iei de mana. frigul de noiembrie nu mai conta, cand te.ai asezat pe pat un val de electricitate inofensiva mi.a strabutut trupul, incalzindu.ma. distanta de la cer la pamant se pierdea, si aveam senzatia ca te imbratisez printr.o perdea, ca iti aud rasuflarea sacadata undeva in aproapierea timpanului meu. simteam ca esti aici, si asta ti.o jur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luati.ma drept o persoana bolnava de dor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-2745121107347132771?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/2745121107347132771/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=2745121107347132771' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/2745121107347132771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/2745121107347132771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/12/daca-as-putea-sa-torc-fiecare-fir-de.html' title='Incurabil.'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-951348547512671225</id><published>2008-10-27T14:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T10:18:14.337-08:00</updated><title type='text'>maraton de sentimente</title><content type='html'>28 octombrie 2008. 5 minute palpabile &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;zorii diminetii. 15 ani si 3 ore de existenta pe pamant. traiectorii incalcite ale picioarelor mele. amintiri vechi, amintiri noi. plansete vechi, plansete noi. difuzii ale constiintei vechi, difuzii ale constiintei noi.&lt;br /&gt;caut printre cutiile mintii  cadoul perfect. nu, nu.l vreau pe cel mai mare. poate imi va dezamagi asteptarile. nici pe cel mai colorat, cu siguranta ceva sobru se ascunde in el. vreau un cadou palpabil. in fundul mintii, sta ascunsa o cutie mica, neagra, cu un bilet pe ea: “de la el, pentru ea”. o deschid cu mainile tremurande. o tigara, o cana cu cafea rece si o molecula din parfumul tau. &lt;br /&gt;Sentimente prea intense. Imi strig inimii “Shht! te rog, taci. pot auzi cum gemi acolo, in interior. stiu. si eu simt acelasi lucru. si eu ma simt franta.”&lt;br /&gt;vreau doar sa ma intind in pat, sa trag plapuma rece peste mine. vreau sa mi se faca pielea de gaina, sa tremur doar la gandul ca ti.am simtit din nou mirosul. sa mi se faca pofta de o tigara. sa fumez tigara de la tine cu cele mai mute gesturi posibile. sa bata vantul. sa ploua marunt exact ca atunci, ultima oara, in statie. sa.mi vina sa plang. sa.mi retin lacrimile pana la spasme. sa fug si sa ma pierd printre asternuturi.&lt;br /&gt;sa simt durere in adancul pieptului cand strang perna in brate. sa.ti aud vibratiile venelor prinse intre peretii de sticla ai camerei. sa ma arda inelul tau jucandu.se la gatul meu. sa ma doara, sa stiu ca te doare.&lt;br /&gt;vreau ca intr.un tarziu, cand mintea mea a ars toate cutiile cu cadouri, sa ma trezesc. vreau sa fii aici. vreau sa taci, sa tremuri,  sa te uiti in gol. vreau sa te cert. "unde ai disparut?!" vreau sa nu.mi raspunzi. sa te iau de mana, sa te trag in pat si sa te sarut apasat. vreau sa nu ai nicio reactie. vreau atunci cand ma ridic din pat sa imi soptesti involuntar "mi.a fost dor..". vreau sa pot plange asa cum n.am plans niciodata si sa.ti spun "prostutule, mi.a fost atat de dor incat mana mea s.a uscat in lipsa mainii tale.". vreau sa.mi impart aerul cu tine, sa putem supravietui amandoi.  vreau sa.ti injectez doza vitala de sentimente.&lt;br /&gt;haide, trage un fum, ia o gura de cafea si pleaca. faci parte din dorinta mea de 5 minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29 octombrie 2008. Retrairi in banca a treia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tremurul din statie. priviri mute si dezorientate. autobuz incarcat cu probleme si regrete. lacrima fierbinte la vederea coltului.&lt;br /&gt;liceu. amortire. lectii de viata ratate.&lt;br /&gt;banca a treia, randul din mijloc. fiorii amintirii.  &lt;br /&gt;amprentele tale adanci pe pielea mea fierbinte. rasuflare taiata. &lt;br /&gt;joc de buze. mainile mele in parul tau moale.&lt;br /&gt;imbratisare dureroasa. soapte ratacite. &lt;br /&gt;filmulete amuzante. rasete false. &lt;br /&gt;banca umeda. pin incarcat de tablouri.&lt;br /&gt;batai de inima monstruoase.&lt;br /&gt;ochi inchisi si muscaturi involuntare.&lt;br /&gt;perete rece. brate puternice. dorinta.&lt;br /&gt;incertitudine. realitate brusca.&lt;br /&gt;intrebare retorica.&lt;br /&gt;clopotelul de iesire. pauza. eliberare din franghii.&lt;br /&gt;vocea profei. reintrare in transa.&lt;br /&gt;ceata interioara. rascolire. retraire.&lt;br /&gt;sfarsit. deconectare provizorie.&lt;br /&gt;balustrada. temere. pall mall albastru. gust familiar.&lt;br /&gt;drum spre inapoi..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 noiembrie 2008. Scenariu de “la revedere, sa fii fericita”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si daca asta e ultima zi, ce vei face?&lt;br /&gt;ma vei aseza la tine in poala, pe blugii reci si plini de scrum?&lt;br /&gt;imi vei sopti “imi pare rau”?&lt;br /&gt;ma vei acuza ca te.am iubit prea tare? imi vei reprosa ca ti.am purtat esenta in sange? ca m.am drogat cu tine pana la supradoza?&lt;br /&gt;de ce?&lt;br /&gt;imi vei cere sa ingrop  tot ce.a fost sub frunzele uscate de noiembrie ?&lt;br /&gt;iti vei fuma tigara cu indiferenta in timp ce eu ma frang in dreapta ta ?&lt;br /&gt;vei stii ca tremur? vei stii ca plang?&lt;br /&gt;vei pasi agitat in fata mea, disperat de situatie?&lt;br /&gt;iti va pasa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;respinge.ma si spune.mi ca e mai bine sa stau pe bancuta.&lt;br /&gt;sopteste.mi ca nu asa ai vrut sa fie, ca lumea e impotriva noastra, ca nu noi purtam vina.&lt;br /&gt;acuza.ma ca am fost rece, ca m.am jucat doar, ca sunt imatura si nu stiu sa iubesc.&lt;br /&gt;...pentru ca asa as intelege.&lt;br /&gt;roaga.ma sa trec tot ce.a fost pe foita unei tigari, sa o fumez, sa intre in mine, sa ne pierd povestea involuntar odata cu aerul ce il respir.&lt;br /&gt;trage din tigara in mod dureros, sa te zgarie fumul de tigara prin vene, sa imi simti aschiile infipte adanc in tine.&lt;br /&gt;sa simti cum tremur, sa auzi cum plang. sa te faci ca nu stii.&lt;br /&gt;sa intepenesti in fata mea, imbalsamat in calm pana la oase.&lt;br /&gt;sa nu.ti pese, sa pleci tacut si plangand fara vreun motiv anume, poate doar pentru ca eu am ramas pe bancuta umeda, plangand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-951348547512671225?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/951348547512671225/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=951348547512671225' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/951348547512671225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/951348547512671225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/10/5-minute-palpabile.html' title='maraton de sentimente'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-7035548861966670121</id><published>2008-09-13T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T14:24:34.655-07:00</updated><title type='text'>infinit pentru doi.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-ma iubesti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-nu stiu. lasa.ma doar sa te sorb.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-ma iubesti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-nu stiu. lasa.ma doar sa te simt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-ma iubesti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-nu stiu.. poate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-ma iubesti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-nu stiu. nu mai intreba.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-ma iubesti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-nu stiu. lasa.ma sa cred ca te pot adora pentru totdeauna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;  lasa.ma sa respir cat timp esti aici. mi.e frica ca fara tine nu voi mai putea respira.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;  lasa.ma sa privesc lumea inca o data. stiu ca fara tine nu voi mai putea sa o mai vad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;  asta inseamna sa iubesti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-ma iubesti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-da.. te iubesc. te iubesc. te iubesc. pana la infinit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;  infinitul are sfarsit?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-nu, atata timp cat ma iubesti nu are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-dar tu.. ma iubesti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-tu ai nascut infinitul fara sfarsit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-si?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-si.. infitul nu poate exista doar pentru unul..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;  infitul exista pentru doi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;  da.. te iubesc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-7035548861966670121?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/7035548861966670121/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=7035548861966670121' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/7035548861966670121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/7035548861966670121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/09/infinit-pentru-doi.html' title='infinit pentru doi.'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-6966201666736444357</id><published>2008-08-20T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T00:45:06.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>interdictie.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;si ma pierd in valatuci de fum.&lt;br /&gt;e tot ce mi.a ramas.&lt;br /&gt;e singura aroma a ta ce mi.a ramas.&lt;br /&gt;zambeam si.mi inecam zambetul in parul ei, gandind mai departe de 4 pereti slab luminati si patati de tutun. visand cum te inghit ca pe o otrava insipida.&lt;br /&gt;simteam si eu si ea cum fiecare picatura de timp ni se scurge in perfuzie.&lt;br /&gt;si doare.&lt;br /&gt;simteam cum ma doare. cum vreau sa tip. cum vreau sa smulg din mine corpul tau lichid care imi ineca porii clipa cu clipa. vroiam sa te indepartez. sa uit.&lt;br /&gt;si cu fiecare sarut imi injectai adanc in fiinta morfina pura. atentie si dragoste.&lt;br /&gt;doneaza.mi inca un spasm de fericire. si lasa.ma..&lt;br /&gt;nu.ti cer mai mult de atat. taci pentru ca orice mi.ai sopti ar suna uimitor de placut.&lt;br /&gt;trimite.mi cate.o gura de aer, cat sa nu mor sufocata. sau.. sufoca.ma chiar tu pentru ca ar fi dureros de bine.&lt;br /&gt;saruta.ma inca o data. si fugi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;prostuto, inca n.ai invatat cat e de interzis sa iubesti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-6966201666736444357?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/6966201666736444357/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=6966201666736444357' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/6966201666736444357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/6966201666736444357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/08/interdictie.html' title='interdictie.'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-7641688205831431950</id><published>2008-08-12T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T15:38:37.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dorinta.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;te.as smulge din decorul lor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;te.as ascunde de frica sa nu te gaseasca ei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;te.as dezveli de povesti si amintiri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;te.as acoperi cu palmele mele reci.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;ti.as canta in fiecare dimineata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;ti.as injecta zilnic doze vitale de sentimente si nicotina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;te.as invata cum sa pasesti pe snurul nostru.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;ti.as inhala fiecare zambet, gest, sarut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;te.as sufoca, te.as frange, te.as lipi la loc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;..doar ca esti prea departe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-7641688205831431950?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/7641688205831431950/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=7641688205831431950' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/7641688205831431950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/7641688205831431950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/08/dorinta.html' title='dorinta.'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-1072538371618859686</id><published>2008-04-11T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T12:22:30.435-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nebunie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dMQoUI9DYLA/SACdfCJFCXI/AAAAAAAAAC0/MaTU4aeSpUI/s1600-h/paranoid_by_psychicLexa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; FLOAT: left; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188319927207266674" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dMQoUI9DYLA/SACdfCJFCXI/AAAAAAAAAC0/MaTU4aeSpUI/s200/paranoid_by_psychicLexa.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Batai de inima fac peretele gol sa vibreze. semiobscuritate. liniste. suferinta? talpi umede se tarasc pe podeaua goala.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Si bate tot mai haotic. pulsul regulat de acum un minut este cuprins de spasme. si incheie... incheie un sir de ganduri mult prea vii pentru ochii care inregistreaza secunda de secunda decorul static. s.a jucat cu sansa. si a pierdut. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Coltul stang al gurii inca e dulce,schiteaza un zambet. restul trupului ii e paralizat. perfuziile mentale s.au frant. nu mai alimenteaza ideea supravietuirii. dorinta cedeaza. disperarea acapareaza totul. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;S.a certat pana si cu perna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&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/8264869258059006170-1072538371618859686?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/1072538371618859686/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=1072538371618859686' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/1072538371618859686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/1072538371618859686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/04/nebunie.html' title='Nebunie'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dMQoUI9DYLA/SACdfCJFCXI/AAAAAAAAAC0/MaTU4aeSpUI/s72-c/paranoid_by_psychicLexa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-480024040877825637</id><published>2008-03-30T13:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T14:27:22.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dimineata fara tine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Dimineata. primul gand-fuck, inca o zi departe de tine. mananc in graba si ma imbrac si mai in graba. in schimb pierd minute intregi in fata unui ciob de oglinda. ei, nici n.arat rau in absenta ta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;M.am agatat de.un fir de irealitate si.am pornit prin lume. ma aventurez pe strada. imi zambesc mie, sunt sincera cu mine. da, viata e scurta. da, viata e zdruncinata. da, viata e... frumoasa. esti departe. tu, ei, toti. nu.mi mai speriati umbra. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Soarele imi traseaza conturul inegurat din nou pe trotuarul ros de timp. pasesc incet si sigur. babuta din scara 4 imi ureaza ca in fiecare dimineata o zi buna. ok. nimic iesit din comun. in fiecare dimineata imi spune asta dar nu intotdeauna dimineata se transforma intr.o zi buna. de data asta simt ca e altfel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Nu, in dimineata asta n.am nevoie de castile care.mi urla disperat in urechi. nu canta pasarile, timpul fizic e prea crud pentru asta. in schimb imi vajaie in timpane o bunastare si o fericire stranie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;This is getting freaky. ;)) de la ce se trage totul? paaai, poate e de la visul de azi.noapte. [ce.am visat azi noapte?!] poate e pentru ca am mirosit florile din vaza de pe birou. neeh, fac asta in fiecare dimineata. poate pentru ca mama nu m.a cicalit in dimineata asta. oricum nu m.ar mai afecta, m.am invatat deja.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;aaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;stiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Esti departe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-480024040877825637?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/480024040877825637/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=480024040877825637' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/480024040877825637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/480024040877825637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/03/dimineata-fara-tine.html' title='Dimineata fara tine'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-5991779208833085486</id><published>2008-03-18T11:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T12:01:19.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amintiri?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Si valsez pe acorduri de amintiri. As vrea sa pot spune ca a fost frumos. A fost in toate modurile posibile-obsesiv, dureros, ametitor-oricum, numai frumos nu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Au fost plansete cand trebuiau sa fie zambete. Au fost dureri atunci cand trebuia sa fie placere. A fost sfarsitul atunci cand trebuia sa fie inceputul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Imaginea ta imi tapeteaza peretii, covorul, patul. Chicotele noastre imi izoleaza camera de restul lumii crude. Cutia cu pereti de amintiri imi permite sa.mi amintesc de cum a fost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Nu stiam ce simt. Hai, s.o spun pe aia dreapta, nici acum nu stiu. Credeam ca o data ce s.a terminat voi afla totusi cum a fost... Si nu, n.am aflat nici acum. Poate pentru ca nu s.a sfarsit. Poate pentru ca mi.e teama sa inventez denumirea starii noastre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Bai, te.am iubit si punct.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-5991779208833085486?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/5991779208833085486/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=5991779208833085486' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/5991779208833085486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/5991779208833085486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/03/amintiri.html' title='Amintiri?'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-8256030552355364434</id><published>2008-03-13T08:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T12:42:04.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simturi</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Ironic. infantil. stupid. totul se leaga prin simturi. oricat de mult as vrea sa.mi ascund amintirile dureroase ies la iveala datorita simturilor. nu sunt amintiri dureroase din cauza naturii intamplarilor. imi creaza o durere atat sufleteasca cat si fizica stiind ca vremuri ca acelea nu vor mai aparea prea curand. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Imi petrec tot timpul in camera mea. scriu, citesc, pictez. nu conteaza ce fac. doar o voce familiara si un miros prea profund ma scot din camera. mama ma anunta ca briosele sunt gata. atunci realizez ca nu voi intalni niciodata clipe mai calme si fara griji decat acelea cand simt mirosul dulce al brioselor fumegande. acelea in care o aud chemandu.ma langa ea pentru a ne bucura impreuna de mica ei atentie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Cele mai vii amintiri le am alaturi de R. stiu, am indurat multe impreuna. intepaturi de tantar, zbierete ale bunicii crizate, lacrimi de dor si rasete poate prea vesele. ce mai conta ca era noapte, decembrie si un frig de inghetase fantana. noi eram impreuna pe sanie cautand constelatii. esenta verii s.a terminat de mult. e ciudat. de fiecare data cand intru in camera albastra, candva cu peretii goi, simt acelasi miros. da, imi plac fructele de padure. imi place gustul lor. imi place culoarea lor plina e viata. dar mai presus de toate imi place mirosul lor. miros care imi va aduce aminte si la batranete de prima oara cand m.am indragostit. si a fost si mai frumos pentru ca ne.am indragostit amandoua de el. nu eram rivale. din contra. imparteam cu tine zambetele destinate mie. imi impartaseai gesturile lui infantile care te faceau sa tremuri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Mirosurile dulci ma imbata. imi amintesc de firea mea rebela. ma inecam in propriul meu miros. era si mai special ca I. avea acelasi parfum, aceeasi senzatie. imbatam chipurile deja fermecate din jurul nostru cu zambete subtile si cu profunzimea aromei noastre. lasam dare de dulceata in goana noastra spre cucerirea timpului. radeam si urlam. ne traiam viata de adolescente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Bucataria vesnic dezordonata. noi vesnic puse pe sotii. dorinta noastra de a atinge perfectiunea. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;alaturi de tine am atins.o, C. nu mai conteaza ce dimensiuni are perfectiunea noastra. am atins.o cu fiecare copilarie de.a noastra. nu sunt fructele mele preferate. nici pe departe. in schimb sunt fructele jocurilor noastre. si da, mirosul lor imi aminteste de tine. de masca ta ideala. de bulgarii nostri imperfecti. cu tine pastrez inca copilul din mine. fara tine el ar rataci pierdut prin capul unei visatoare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;N.am indraznit sa ma confrunt cu mirosul altuia de cand cu tine. n.am facut.o. imi era teama ca imi voi pierde celulele care te stiu depista doar pe tine. am incercat sa fug cat mai departe de atingerea, imaginea, glasul, gustul, mirosul tau... in sfarsit simteam ca traiesc cand am reusit sa ma rup de tine. avea sa fie o cale lunga si lina. am descoperit prin intamplare ca orice as face cercul reporneste din acelasi punct, urmand acelasi traseu, sfarsindu.se in acelasi varf de creion. ajungand din nou la tine. credeam ca simturile imi sunt deja imune fata de tine. nimic nu parea sa ma mai tulbure. dar ce ti.e si cu viata. atunci se rastoarna situatia. si nu, nu m.a dat peste cap aprenta ta. nici o genea apartinandu.ti. era un lucru uitat demult pe noptiera mea. sublim si totusi atat de evident. da, trebuie sa recunosc, m.a dat total peste cap izul amintirii tale transpuse in consistenta unei creme banale...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Va multumesc ca existati. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-8256030552355364434?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/8256030552355364434/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=8256030552355364434' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/8256030552355364434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/8256030552355364434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/03/simturi.html' title='Simturi'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-652712830378979655</id><published>2008-03-09T14:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T15:32:31.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stropi de alcool</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Si nu stiu. nu ma intreba. ha. acum esti chiar curios. imi ascund fata. stiu ca daca ma vei privi in ochi o sa afli tot ce vrei. nu ma pot lasa dezgolita. haide. fa doi pasi in spate. ma intimidezi. cana cu ciocolata calda e acum rece si varsata. stropi de un ciocolatiu patimas picura pe parchetul acoperit de un praf sublim. picura. si ma tulbura. nu ma pot concentra. am uitat ce ai intrebat. aaa. ai intrebat doar cat e ceasul. e imediat miezul noptii. ora fixa imediat. ma vei iubi atunci?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si totusi. vino mai aproape. sa.ti simt mirosul. nu ma atinge. lasa.ma pe mine sa fac primul pas. altfel ma voi speria. esti mai cald decat imi imaginam. si de ce se invarte totul cu mine? te privesc si imi lipesc buzele de tigara alba. te simt in interior cand fac asta. am ajuns sa o fac la doua secunde. cand nu esti, cand esti langa mine... tot timpul. imi imaginez ca tu esti tigara. si stiu ca asa ma vei lasa fara impotrivire sa ma inec cu tine. te pierzi in fumul adanc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nu pot sa.ti spun nimic. nu.mi gasesc cuvintele. stau ascunse in prea multe pagini ingalbenite de fum si timp. am scris. am scris tot ce nu.ti puteam spune. eram copila pe.atunci. nu stiam sa iubesc. mi.era teama sa ma las iubita. am scris file si file. si m.am maturizat. uite. nici macar nu vei recunoaste modul in care te iubesc. obsesiv. ti.as cuprinde obrajii in palme si ti.as sarut apasat buzele. si nu o fac... haide. vreau sa fugim. sa ridicam praful in urma noastra. sa afle vecinii de sub noi ca aici locuiesc persoane care se iubesc. sa alunecam si sa radem. de ce? de ce te uiti asa? ieri pe.acum asta faceam... hai, gata! ca s.a facut fix. deci spune. cum e cu iubitul? iubesti? ma iubesti? ieri spuneai un "da" mai ferm... poate e imaginatia mea doar. stiu ca inca ne iubim. saruta.ma. ai dreptul sa faci tu primul pas aici. esti timid? ieri nu erai...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de ce se schimba totul? nu e doar in capul meu. e in tot ce ne inconjoara. pentru prima data in ultimele luni geamul e curat. ciudat. si nu mai e atat praf. si stai. unde iti sunt hainele? de ce doar lucrurile mele sunt imprastiate? ma cutremur. ma doare capul. vreau sa ma asez. spune.mi ce joc nou jucam. devine tot mai interesant. haide, doar n.am innebunit. stiu ca ne jucam ceva. v.ati.ascunselea? ce dor mi.era de jocul asta. nu. nu e asta. atunci baba oarba? leaga.ma la ochi. o sa te pot gasi si legata la ochi, si in intuneric, si dincolo de moarte. de ce sa ma calmez? eu stiu ca ne jucam. bine. nu ne jucam. atunci ce e? mi.e sete si imi umezesc limba pentru a suta oara in seara asta cu berea rece de pe balcon. ia si tu una. e tot mai ciudat. de ce nu poti sa bei? doar nu ai sa te duci sa conduci la miezul noptii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nu.ti pierde rabdarea. ma cunosti doar. spune.mi pe indelete ce se intampla. bine. daca te grabesti spune.mi atunci intr.un singur cuvant tot. pleci?! cum adica. nu, nu am mai vorbit despre asta. imi vajaie capul. de ce nu imi pot aminti nimic? de ce se tranteste o usa? de ce... ai plecat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poate... poate daca nu eram atat de beata mi.as fi amintit ca mi.ai spus in cearta de azi dimineata ca vei pleca dupa miezul noptii. poate daca nu eram atat de beata te.as fi oprit. dar sunt. si dorm in papucii de casa. si dorm. si e 2 fix. si tu nu ma mai iubesti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-652712830378979655?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/652712830378979655/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=652712830378979655' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/652712830378979655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/652712830378979655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/03/si-nu-stiu.html' title='Stropi de alcool'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8264869258059006170.post-2246775888392236093</id><published>2008-03-08T14:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T10:57:34.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poveste fara sfarsit</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Era cald. Nu credea ca pe bordura banala va intalni tot ce.si putea dori vreodata. Radea. Si totusi era trista. Cuvinte izvorau dintr.o sursa aiurita. Nu conta. Visa momentul. Stia ca va veni clipa in care va darui si va primi totul. Poate ca se va intampla atunci, poate ca maine, poate ca inainte sa moara. Si dormea in nevisarea ei. Pierduta printre particulele de praf stelar de pe terenul de joaca. Voci straine rasunau inafara globului de liniste. Pasi se auzeau venind. Oboseala din ochii.i plansi o forta sa caute alinare in pietricelele fugare. Se auzea tot mai tare. Ii vana linsitea. Gandurile. Simtirea. Teama de a ramane dezgolita ii ridica ochii din neant. Statea acolo, tulburandu.i ratiunea. Nu credea cat de repede se poate schimba viata. Cat de repede poate deveni fericita.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Il iubea. O iubea. Coltul de dumbrava le era martor iubirii lor. Stiau sa se invaluie in raze de soare. Valuri de sentimente. Era atat de aproape. Detinea intreaga fericire a lumii intr.o camaruta a inimii sale destinate lui. Se pierdeau dimineata in pliurile grele si intunecoase ale cearceafului. Erau goi. Imbracati doar in dragostea celuilalt. Ii atingea coapsa curbata si simtea cum tremura. Ii asculta respiratia si stia ca o face sa.i respire sentimentele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Mana ei era in mana lui vesnic fierbinte. Inimile le pulsau in palme. Simteau. Traiau. Iubeau. La unison. Soarele zambea. Nimeni si nimic nu indraznea sa le rapeasca clipele. Respirau iubire si se hraneau cu dragoste. Erau indispensabili unul altuia. O numise zeita lui. Ea avea adevarata putere de a.i aduce zambetul pe buze.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Radeau. Si chicotele lor luptau cu zorii diminetii. Rasunau departe. Inafara dormitorului cu draperii grele si jucarii vesele. Mirosea a vanilie. A dulce. A ei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Se iubeau. Si nu. N.a murit niciunul. Povestea continua. E o poveste fara sfarsit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8264869258059006170-2246775888392236093?l=onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/feeds/2246775888392236093/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8264869258059006170&amp;postID=2246775888392236093' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/2246775888392236093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8264869258059006170/posts/default/2246775888392236093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onesanguineaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/03/poveste-fara-sfarsit.html' title='Poveste fara sfarsit'/><author><name>Moxi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16549456688977976303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvhXDbwbHMs/TrlON9XEgqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/-tYAMHxHh_Q/s220/IMG_001212.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
