<?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-4957260113621113863</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:17:04.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Astray in the Abiss</title><subtitle type='html'>Because I can’t stop thinking that there is more than this to life… There is more than what the eye can see… there is something hiding beneath this shield…this mask…</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-6754747149633117309</id><published>2009-08-02T04:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T04:32:49.081-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Abstract art...</title><content type='html'>Cateva wallpapere made by me :D  (Click pe imagine pentru a mari )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SnV5Tz4VnbI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Wfl4X9RCvAw/s1600-h/shattered+dreams.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SnV5Tz4VnbI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Wfl4X9RCvAw/s320/shattered+dreams.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365327912332795314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SnV4jKl5ZrI/AAAAAAAAAHo/vk6i4MvZze8/s1600-h/grace+is+pain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SnV4jKl5ZrI/AAAAAAAAAHo/vk6i4MvZze8/s320/grace+is+pain.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365327076615874226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SnV4Jq0gKDI/AAAAAAAAAHg/5NC_yEI6mzU/s1600-h/deviant+worlds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SnV4Jq0gKDI/AAAAAAAAAHg/5NC_yEI6mzU/s320/deviant+worlds.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365326638590470194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-6754747149633117309?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/6754747149633117309/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=6754747149633117309' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/6754747149633117309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/6754747149633117309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2009/08/abstract-art.html' title='Abstract art...'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SnV5Tz4VnbI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Wfl4X9RCvAw/s72-c/shattered+dreams.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-6388822278693024551</id><published>2009-07-11T16:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T16:12:58.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck the sistem</title><content type='html'>E greu sa fii diferit.. sa fii impotriva sistemului.. sa arati si sa te comporti altfel decat turma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merg pe strada si ce vad? Oameni.. Oameni adanc infipti in societatea asta a noastra care pe zi ce trece ne tampeste mai mult... De ce? Oare de ce? Suntem toti diferiti..omul prin definitie e diferit. Dar nu! hai sa ne imbracam toti la fel. sa fim toti manelisti , sa scuipam seminte , sa ne luam toale numai de la Nike sau Dolce and Garbana! pardon Gabanna... :lol: si sa stam toti cu bratele la piept asteptand sa treaca ziua, poate maine avem niste roakeri de care sa facem misto la Romana sau la Universitate. Hai sa ne mandrim ca ne-am luat Ipod sau Iphone... ca dom'le face poze cu 3,5 megapixeli... Asa si? Ce conteaza? Poti sa ai si o caramida de Nokia Banana ( pacat ca nu se mai fabrica, erau rezistente chestiile alea ), sau poti sa nu ai deloc si sa spui ca nu le ai cu tehnologia.&lt;br /&gt;In ziua de astazi toti ne gandim la cum sa facem sa fim mai sexosi sau mai cool ... hai frate ce s-a intamplat ? ne ducem de rapa... Daca asculti rock esti satanist...sau mai nou esti Emo... :-| La dracu la inceputuri Emo purtau haine colorate si frizuri cat mai ciudate.. acum am ajuns EMOtionali... De ce? Ca nu avem ce sa facem mai bun decat sa ne crestam venele ... poate au crescut prea mult :lol:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vad pusti de 10-11 ani care fumeaza sau mai rau se drogheaza ... parinti care habar nu au ce fac odraslele lor cand teoretic ar trebui sa fie la scoala... Dubios... numai dubiosi... Acum daca esti fata si iesi in club si arati bine se da juma de club la tine ca deh " esti sexy", daca arati mai "nu in trend" se face caterinca de tine ca deh " esti nashpa" .. Dar oare mai sta cineva sa intrebe ce ai intre urechi? daca e un simplu vid sau e ceva mai interesant acolo ? Neah ..prea greu .. hai sa sarim direct la actiune ca asa e cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hai sa ne dam cu totii mari ca suntem fani Eminem si sa nu stim nici o piesa sau si mai tare frate !! sa spunem ca suntem Rap-eri si dupa un an doi cand cultura nu mai merge pentru noi sa ne dam nazisti ca acum sunt aia in trend. Ce frumos era cand ne durea undeva ce asculta ala de langa noi si purtam discutii inteligente despre arta , politica si mai stiu eu cate cand ne vedeam in coltul blocului la bauta. Acum nu mai iesim acolo ca ne vaneaza "martienii blanosi " cu amenzi si cu dosare pentru perturbarea linistii publice ... Dar oare cand vecinul de deasupra pune manele la ora 3 dimineata , la maxim , ca doar nah si-a cumparat sistem audio 5.1 si acum se da smecher.. asta nu mai e perturbarea linistii publice? Ehh nu ! Dar ce conteaza ? Sunt manele nu e rock ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oare daca dam lumea peste cap si ne bagam ceva in el de Sistem reactioneaza cineva? Cu siguranta , ca doar suntem huligani si racnim cu totii ACAB... ca suntem punkisti , roakeri , Emo sau mai stiu eu ce ... noi ne revoltam sistemului.. si ne doare undeva de sistemul lor care ne baga noua pe gat cum ar trebui noi sa fim ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-6388822278693024551?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/6388822278693024551/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=6388822278693024551' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/6388822278693024551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/6388822278693024551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2009/07/fuck-sistem.html' title='Fuck the sistem'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-1080817145210602622</id><published>2009-06-01T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T23:30:32.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The letter of a dying man</title><content type='html'>It's not in my nature to forgive and forget, although in the last couple of months I did...&lt;br /&gt;My life has turned to a stop... and I am the one who is stopping it...&lt;br /&gt;Why do you think I never left you alone?&lt;br /&gt;Think I did that out of sympathy?&lt;br /&gt;NO! I did it because I loved you...&lt;br /&gt;I loved you and you betrayed me...&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm leaving you alone...hope you suffer...cause I know I did...&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to hurt my family , just you... and I know this is the only way...&lt;br /&gt;I know you will not be hurt until I have passed on...because of you I am dead now... hopefully I go to a better place... where I can start over without all these problems and mistakes... where I can be a better man ... and where you and your hypocrisy don't exist...&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you rot in hell for what you did...&lt;br /&gt;And I hope I am the one that haunts you in your dreams when you sleep at night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now... when my demise is so close.. I see everything clearly..&lt;br /&gt;I see all the things that you did against me and others like me... and I know that the man that holds you in his arms now, will suffer just like I did...&lt;br /&gt;I pity all the fools that will ever love you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't hate you... you don't deserve my hate... you don't even deserve this letter... but I'm writing it just the same... because I want you to know how much you hurt me... and I hope that it will haunt you to the end of your meaningless days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With nothing,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dead and buried Christian...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-1080817145210602622?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1080817145210602622/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=1080817145210602622' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/1080817145210602622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/1080817145210602622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2009/06/letter-of-dying-man.html' title='The letter of a dying man'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-4027247975550748144</id><published>2009-05-08T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T22:59:58.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><content type='html'>Ce este iubirea?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiecare are o perspectiva diferita asupra acestui sentiment... Dar ce pot sa spun clar este ca atunci cand iubesti ai nevoie de acea persoana ca de aer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand o/il vezi simti fiori prin tot corpul ca si cum ar fi trecut o briza de aer rece pe langa tine. De fiecare data cand iti suna telefonul iti tresare inima cu speranta ca e un mesaj de la ea/el. Cand nu il/o vezi o zi sau cateva ore ii simti lipsa... ca si cum ar lipsi o parte din tine... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand iubesti simti ca lumea e la picioarele tale si ca nimic rau nu se poate intampla atata timp cat e ea/el langa tine...Simti ca plutesti de fiecare data cand il/o atingi... Te uiti la oameni pe strada si incerci sa ii compari cu el/ea. O/il pretuiesti mai presus decat orice , chiar si decat tine... Vrei sa stai intotdeauna langa ea/el si sa o/il tii in brate... Cand ii simti parfumul dimineata pe pielea ta , cand ea/el nu mai e langa tine zambesti si te gandesti cu amar ca mai sunt 6 ore pana se va intoarce de la munca si veti fi din nou impreuna , imbratisati... &lt;br /&gt;Cand iubesti te simti fericit/a cand iti zambeste si te saruta de revedere... Zambesti cand auzi la radio, Tv sau in lista de winamp piesa pe care ati dansat prima oara... Sau piesa care a conchis primul vostru sarut... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iti amintesti fiecare clipa petrecuta cu ea/el cand treci pe langa un loc pe unde v-ati plimbat impreuna... &lt;br /&gt;TE bucuri cand primesti un cadou de la ea/el, oricat de nesemnificativ pentru altii pentru tine este o comoara... Plangi si te amarasti cand va certati... Tremuri de fiecare data cand iti spune "Te Iubesc" si simti cum inima iti creste de 3 ori mai mare atunci cand te ia de mana si te strange la pieptul ei/lui... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simti toate astea alaturi de persoana cu care esti? Atunci iubesti si mai mult ca sigur ca esti iubit/a... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte ca iubirea este rara... asa ca daca o ai ...pretuieste-o si ai grija de ea, fiindca este posibil ca a doua oara sa nu mai fie acolo... &lt;br /&gt;Nu iti bate joc fiindca ai fost binecuvantat/a cu un dar pe care multi il ravnesc dar putini il primesc... Iar cei care l-au primit il venereaza si il tin la loc de cinste... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traieste , fi fericit/a si iubeste... Caci iubirea e cel mai mare si mai scump dar din lume...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-4027247975550748144?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4027247975550748144/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=4027247975550748144' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/4027247975550748144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/4027247975550748144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2009/05/love.html' title='Love'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-8620405783791584887</id><published>2009-03-24T15:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T03:55:49.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scheletii din Dulap</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;x&lt;/span&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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Vantul bate cumplit , ploua , iar orfelinatul “St Andrei” de pe Strada Hortensiilor isi deschidea portile pentru cei ce doreau sa infieze un copil.&lt;br /&gt;Orfelinatul nu era tocmai cel mai frumos loc din Micul Paris. Candva pe vremea cand directoarea Marinescu inca traia era cel mai nobil si vestit orfelinat din aceasta parte a tarii. Acum…e o dugheana… Este remarcabil cum oamenii inca mai au taria sa intre aici…&lt;br /&gt;Felix era unul din baietii ce si-au gasit caminul aici printr-o serie de circumstance nefericite. Adevaratii lui parinti au murit cand el avea numai 5 anisori. Neavand nici o alta ruda in grija caruia sa fie plasat , a fost adus aici…la “Sf Andrei”…&lt;br /&gt;Felix nu era deloc un copil popular…Nimeni nu il baga in seama , desi era cel mai inteligent dintre toti. Baiatul obisnuia sa stea singur, ascunzandu-se in dulapurile cu maturi unde statea ore intregi , la lumina unei lumanari furate din biroul secretarei. Citea carti despre cavalerii viteji ai Avalonului, despre Merlin si Regele Arthur al Camelotului. Traia intr-o lume fantezista, creata de el, unde viata lui era ceva mai frumoasa decat aici.&lt;br /&gt;Cand s-a sunat alarma , toti copii trebuiau sa se prezinte in sala cea mare, de unde aveau sa fie alesi de viitori lor parinti. In toti anii in care a stat in orfelinat , Felix nu a fost ales nici macar o data de o familie…Toti il considerau prea ciudat.&lt;br /&gt;Dar el nu isi facea griji.Avea cartile lui,lumea lui,ce nevoie avea de familie,cand singurele persoane care i-au aratat vreodata afectiune erau ingrijitoarele orfelinatului?Simtea nevoia unei mame care i-ar fi citit seara de seara povesti?Simtea nevoia unui tata care i-ar fi putut deveni model?&lt;br /&gt;Da! Insa cu toate aceste noi lucruri,ar fi trebuit sa renunte la ceea ce avea el mai de pret: visele.&lt;br /&gt;Directoare intra in sala urmata de cei ce aveau sa devina parinti. Printre toti acesti oameni se afla si familia Dinu. Familia Dinu mai aveau doi copii, Alexandra , in varsta de 15 ani si Ionut , in varsta de 11 ani. Acestia se aflau impreuna cu familia lor aici in cautarea unui nou fratior cu care Ionut sa poata merge la scoala. Intamplarea face ca Felix sa aiba aceasi varsta ca si Ionut.&lt;br /&gt;Felix statea in coltul lui , cu mainile la spate, asteptand sa fie tratat ca un animal de prasila. Cand directoarea ajunse in dreptul lui le spuse celor din familia Dinu ca Felix este unul dintre cei mai linistiti copii de la orfelinatul “Sf Andrei” , de asemenea cel mai educat.&lt;br /&gt;Nu au mai stat prea mult pe ganduri si au semnat actele de adoptie. Directoarea Marsavescu a fost cea mai fericita ca in sfarsit a putut sa scape de Felix. Nu il placea si nu il dorea in acel loc… Nu a inteles niciodata de ce predecesoarea ei D-na Marinescu il placea atat de mult pe baiatul asta…Era un neispravit..Nu facea nimic decat sa se ascunda prin cotloanele orfelinatului. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Nimeni nu i-a urat ramas-bun lui Felix la plecarea lui din camin. Ce-I drept nici nu isi imaginase ca o sa ii simta cineva lipsa acolo. Toti il urau…&lt;br /&gt;Odata ajuns acasa la familia Dinu, Felix era foarte fericit. Dar aceasta fericire nu a durat mult, caci cu timpul a observat ca de fapt plecarea lui din orfelinatul “ Sf Andrei” nu era o binecuvantare, ci mai degraba un blestem.&lt;br /&gt;Familia Dinu era o familie instarita, cu o casa mare , incapatoare, totusi Felix a primit cea mai mica camera, undeva langa bucatarie.&lt;br /&gt;Marietta Dinu, mama lui Ionut si Alexandra si sotia lui Dan era cea mai vanitoasa femeie pe care a putut Felix sa o cunoasca in toti cei 11 ani de viata ai sai. Toata ziua si-o petrecea in fata unei oglinzi mari din camera ei , aranjandu-se si schimband zeci de haine …Nimic nu parea sa ii fie pe plac… Din cand in cand il intreba pe Felix&lt;br /&gt;“Ce parere ai de costumul asta, baiete?”&lt;br /&gt;Felix o privea prêt de cateva secunde si ii raspundea asa cum credea el ca o sa ii fie ei pe plac…&lt;br /&gt;“Va prinde foarte bine culoarea , doamna. Se poptriveste cu ochii dumneavoastra.”&lt;br /&gt;“Asa ma gandeam si eu..” Raspunse Marietta pe un ton sfidator…&lt;br /&gt;Prima oara cand Felix nu a fost de acord cu preferintele Mariettei , totul s-a sfarsit cu inchiderea lui intr-un dulap cu cratiti si oale pentru gatit, unde a fost tinut timp de cateva ore. Cand in sfarsit a fost eliberat din dulap , Felix a avut o revelatie. Ca sa poata supravietui in aceasta casa , trebuia sa invete cum sa se comporte cu fiecare in parte.&lt;br /&gt;Era noiembrie cand Dan l-a trimis pe Felix la scoala impreuna cu Ionut. Iarna incepea sa isi arate ghearele , iar in timp ce Ionut primea haine noi si incaltari calduroase, baiatul nostru primea hainele vechi ale lui Ionut. Unele erau prea mici pentru el, altele prea deterioarate, astfel incat de multe ori Felix trebuia sa poarte mai multe bluze si mai multi pantaloni , unele peste altele ca sa nu ii fie frig.&lt;br /&gt;Desi a sperat ca la scoala lucrurile se vor imbunatati, iar s-a inselat. Viata la scoala nu era prea diferita de viata pe care a dus-o in orfelinat sau acasa la familia Dinu. Era batjocorit de toti elevii findca era un copil infiat, iar Ionut , fiind unul dintre copii populari , deoarece familia lui avea bani , in loc sa isi apere noul fratior ii incuraja pe ceilalti elevi sa isi bata joc de el.&lt;br /&gt;Felix si-a gasit alinarea in orele de curs de la scoala , unde profesorii erau foarte exigenti si ii tineau pe copii in frau. Mai putin profesoara Julianu... Dansa preda artele plastic si era cea mai grasa femeie din scoala. Mica de statura si imbuibata , infatisarea ei aducea cu cea a unei broaste. Purta niste ochelari foarte mari , ce ii faceau ochii sa semene cu cei a unei gargarite supradimensionate. Profesoara Julianu isi petrecea timpul alocat predarii band dintr-o butelca cu coniac si sforaind, in timp ce elevii stateau cuminti si isi faceau plansele pentru ora respectiva. Acesta a fost momentul in care Felix si-a descoperit afinitatea pentru artele plastice. Dar in scurt timp si-a dat seama ca profesoara Julianu nu era tocmai mentorul potrivit.Lenea era pacatul ei. Asa ca Felix a inceput sa studieze singur,pictorul lui preferat fiind Salvador Dali. Familia sa nu era de acord cu acest lucru. Ii rupeau plansele si ii amestecau vopselurile, ba mai mult ii batjocoreau fiecare incercare de a face ceva constructiv, spunandu-I intr-una ca el nu ar reusii niciodata in viata , fiindca la urma urmei el este doar un orfan fara nici un viitor. Sau cel putin asa credeau ei.&lt;br /&gt;Nimeni nu reusea sa il inteleaga pe Felix…cateodata nici macar el nu era complet sigur ca stie ce face. De un singur lucru ii era absolute clar. Vroia sa faca orice ca sa scape de familia Dinu. Notele lui de la scoala erau suprinzator de mari , iar Ionut era cel care suferea cel mai mult din aceasta cauza. Era invidios pe Felix si aptitudinile lui , si nu pierdea nici o sansa sa ii faca rau , intr-un fel sau altul…&lt;br /&gt;Cel mai des ii arunca ghiozdanul cu carti pe geam , iar Felix era nevoit sa coboare 2 etaje pana in curtea interioara sa le recupereze la timp pana sa inceapa ora. In ultimul timp nici macar nu se mai obosea sa mearga sale culeaga, ingrijitoarele scolii au vazut de cateva ori ce se intampla cu bunurile baiatului si le culegeau ele din curte de cate ori le vedeau zburand pe fereastra. Invidia lui Ionut era nemarginita, iar Felix nu intelegea de ce. El nu era cu nimic mai bun ca Ionut. Marietta si Dan isi tratau fiul ca pe un print , iar pe el ca pe un servitor. Ca sa evite cat de mult posibil ca Marietta sa ii rupa plansele , se ascundea in gradina undeva in spatele unor copaci si statea acolo sa picteze. Plansele le ascundea intr-o scorbura , incat sa nu le poata gasi nimeni.&lt;br /&gt;Profesoara Julianu nu era absolut deloc interesata de plansele lui Felix, iar aceasta ramasese fara nici o solutie… Intr-una din zile o domnisoara in jur de 24-26 ani a venit sa o inlocuiasca pe”broasca” Julianu asa cum o denumise Felix, pe motiv ca aceasta se imbolnavise si nu avea cum sa mai predea. Cu siguranta ii era prea lene sa se mai deplaseze pana la scoala.&lt;br /&gt;Alina, profesoara suplinitoare de Arte Plastice , era o domnisoara foarte draguta si buna cu toti copii. Inclusiv cu Felix. Aceasta l-a vazut pe Felix pictand in timpul orei si l-a intrebat daca mai are planse pe care le-ar putea vedea si ea.&lt;br /&gt;Felix nu isi mai incapea in piele de fericire. 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	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin-top:0in; 	mso-para-margin-right:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0in; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1026"&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapelayout ext="edit"&gt;   &lt;o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"&gt;  &lt;/o:shapelayout&gt;&lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Astfel a reusit inca de mic sa isi publice cateva din picturile lui. Parintii sai adoptivi , mai ales Marietta inca il considera pe Felix un neispravit in ciuda tuturor eforturilor sale de a fi apreciat de catre familia lui. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Alexandra , sora lui mai mare era intruchiparea lacomiei. La varsta ei era de imbuibata de catre mama ei cu diverse dulciuri si mancaruri. Toata ziua nu facea altceva decat sa stea sa se uite la TV cu un castron mare de ciocolata sau cu o multime de jeleuri. Pungi intregi de cipsuri sedeau pe podeaua din camera ei… Felix era vazut ca un fel de menajera a casei… Dan si Marietta il puneau sa faca curat prin casa, sa faca mancare , sa curete gradina. De abia daca mai avea timp sa picteze. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Treci in bucatarie si fa-ti treaba. Nu te tinem aici ca sa lenevesti si sa iti faci picturile acelea oribile! Nici nu pot sa imi dau seama ce anume vad oamenii aia la urateniile alea de desene.Eu nu as da nici o ceapa degerata pe ele.” Aceasta era una din prelegerile pe care I le tinea Marietta lui Felix. De la un timp el nici nu se mai obosea sa ii mai raspunda. Tacea , dadea din cap si scapa mult mai usor decat atunci cand decidea sa riposteze cu un argument dureros. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-8620405783791584887?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/8620405783791584887/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=8620405783791584887' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/8620405783791584887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/8620405783791584887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2009/03/fotografia-fost-facuta-de-leontie-ionut.html' title='Scheletii din Dulap'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-5207614681602205387</id><published>2009-03-22T13:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T21:41:40.014-07:00</updated><title type='text'>URBAN</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/ScamdsmbW8I/AAAAAAAAAGE/uDziCSF4gpA/s1600-h/DSCF6966.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 381px; height: 285px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/ScamdsmbW8I/AAAAAAAAAGE/uDziCSF4gpA/s320/DSCF6966.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316119439276202946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/ScamdZoYfxI/AAAAAAAAAF8/cDPQhx_8VlM/s1600-h/DSCF6964.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 388px; height: 290px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/ScamdZoYfxI/AAAAAAAAAF8/cDPQhx_8VlM/s320/DSCF6964.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316119434184130322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/ScamdKp6iyI/AAAAAAAAAF0/W2H3L3sRH6w/s1600-h/DSCF6961+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 388px; height: 289px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/ScamdKp6iyI/AAAAAAAAAF0/W2H3L3sRH6w/s320/DSCF6961+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316119430164024098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/ScamchiOs8I/AAAAAAAAAFs/Pejy7kKMNPY/s1600-h/papapa+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 394px; height: 525px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/ScamchiOs8I/AAAAAAAAAFs/Pejy7kKMNPY/s320/papapa+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316119419125937090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-5207614681602205387?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5207614681602205387/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=5207614681602205387' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/5207614681602205387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/5207614681602205387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2009/03/urban.html' title='URBAN'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/ScamdsmbW8I/AAAAAAAAAGE/uDziCSF4gpA/s72-c/DSCF6966.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-3234534316670211924</id><published>2009-01-27T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T21:53:29.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Different</title><content type='html'>None of us is the same with the other... We are different creatures of the world and we feel and perceive the world in different ways.&lt;br /&gt;It's not easy to give voice to thoughts, Neither to feelings. Especially to them.&lt;br /&gt;Every single one of us has different opinions on life, on how it's supposed to be. None of us is powerful enough to give voice to what we want to be.&lt;br /&gt;Feelings  are special, they show what we are, and they are a part of us. Talking about our feelings or expressing them it's never been easy. I never talk about what I feel. Never... For me it's easier to keep my thoughts and my feelings to myself. It's easier because then I don't need to hear the opinions of others around me. But there is a time when even the most easiest thing becomes hard to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;I don't talk about my feelings or my thoughts with people, because I am afraid they might understand them in a wrong way. I'm afraid they might judge me even more than they are doing it...&lt;br /&gt; As a little girl I wanted to fit in society. Now... all I care about is be myself... but it's not easy after trying so hard to be someone else for so long...&lt;br /&gt;I don't express my feelings in spoken words... I write them...it's easier and it's different...it's different because I am different... I am not a part of the society... I'm an outcast... the black sheep of the flock... Always was .... Always will be... a different person with a different personality... always against the system... Always against the flock...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-3234534316670211924?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3234534316670211924/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=3234534316670211924' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/3234534316670211924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/3234534316670211924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2009/01/different.html' title='Different'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-512213391214423089</id><published>2009-01-21T21:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T21:55:48.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunset</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYJwszulk-I/AAAAAAAAAEg/Ce_NzKwedLc/s1600-h/sunset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 241px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYJwszulk-I/AAAAAAAAAEg/Ce_NzKwedLc/s400/sunset.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296920026843288546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acesta este un mic "tablou" ca sa zic asa, facut de mine in Artrage. Nu este cine stie ce, dar la momentul respectiv imi placea. In imaginea de mai sus veti gasi cateva elemente "ascunse" . Oare reusiti sa le gasiti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-512213391214423089?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/512213391214423089/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=512213391214423089' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/512213391214423089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/512213391214423089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2009/01/sunset.html' title='Sunset'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYJwszulk-I/AAAAAAAAAEg/Ce_NzKwedLc/s72-c/sunset.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-1057891868114555470</id><published>2008-12-24T16:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T16:28:06.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My first Christmas...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; When I was a little girl , about 8 years old I dreamed about being old... When I was finally there , Old ... seemed like a disappointment. When I was small everything came in a nicely raped package with colorful ribbons attached. Back then I thought that everything is for granted...My parents , my life... But then I grew up... You know what they say ..." Be careful what you wish for , because you might just get it " .When I became a rebel I wanted to live alone without my parents , and I did it more then once... Then I didn't realize how empty my life can be without one of them. Back then I had the certitude that they will always be there...But then life came back at me and bit me by the rear end...nine months after I left home and moved away alone in a rented apartment the most horrible thing happened. On the 4th of April 2008 my father passed away three hours later after I came back home... I was so disappointed that at first I couldn't even mourn his death... I kept on thinking " How could he ? How could he  leave me alone ? " Nine months later it's Christmas Eve and I begin to put up the Christmas tree .I used to do that with my father...I find this old box with photos and I  look at some old pictures of me and my family... I see him and then I look in the mirror in front of me... The spitting image of my father... Same eyes, same nose...same smile...&lt;br /&gt;This IS a disappointment... My first Christmas  without him... And there are many more to come...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-1057891868114555470?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1057891868114555470/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=1057891868114555470' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/1057891868114555470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/1057891868114555470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-first-christmas.html' title='My first Christmas...'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-676758109802868640</id><published>2008-12-17T02:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T23:29:44.432-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The scent of life...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/Seq2vA8ItgI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/XfyT74YEj9c/s1600-h/ZO2uao363198-02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/Seq2vA8ItgI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/XfyT74YEj9c/s320/ZO2uao363198-02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326270428141368834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your skin so pale ,your eyes so black, your heart beats inside of you so fast it drives me mad.&lt;br /&gt;I see your eyes glowing in the dark , staring at me...&lt;br /&gt;I get closer and closer to you ...I am not afraid...&lt;br /&gt;-"Ooh your scent it's killing me ... ripping me apart...it's the smell of your skin... of your blood flowing through every little vein underneath it...taking me away with every breath...&lt;br /&gt;Your scent it's like adrenaline to me ...&lt;br /&gt;-" I could stay like this forever..."&lt;br /&gt;-"Forever is a very long time" -&lt;br /&gt;Forever is what I dream about...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-676758109802868640?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/676758109802868640/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=676758109802868640' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/676758109802868640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/676758109802868640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/12/scent-of-life.html' title='The scent of life...'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/Seq2vA8ItgI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/XfyT74YEj9c/s72-c/ZO2uao363198-02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-3925160158539695070</id><published>2008-11-27T18:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T23:43:40.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SerIEGDlncI/AAAAAAAAAHY/CkhWeDZ88Hc/s1600-h/23973661_Emilie_Autumn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 350px; height: 350px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SerIEGDlncI/AAAAAAAAAHY/CkhWeDZ88Hc/s400/23973661_Emilie_Autumn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326289481989725634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Opheliac &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;este una din piesele mele preferate ale artistei&lt;/span&gt; Emilie Autumn. &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Este si o piesa care ma reprezinta ( cred eu )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm your Opheliac&lt;br /&gt;I've been so disillusioned&lt;br /&gt;I know you'd take me back&lt;br /&gt;But still I feign confusion&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't be your friend&lt;br /&gt;My world was to unstable&lt;br /&gt;You might have seen the end&lt;br /&gt;But you were never able&lt;br /&gt;To keep me breathing&lt;br /&gt;As the water rises up again&lt;br /&gt;Before I slip away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the games I play and the words I say when I want my own way&lt;br /&gt;You know the lies I tell when you've gone through hell and I say I can't stay&lt;br /&gt;You know how hard it can be to keep believing in me&lt;br /&gt;When everything and everyone becomes my enemy&lt;br /&gt;And when there's nothing more you can do I'm gona blame it on you&lt;br /&gt;It's not the way I wana be&lt;br /&gt;I only know that in the end you will see it's the Opheliac in me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the Opheliac in me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im your Opheliac&lt;br /&gt;My stalkings prove my virtue&lt;br /&gt;I'm open to attack&lt;br /&gt;But I don't want to hurt you (hurt you)&lt;br /&gt;Whether I swim or sink&lt;br /&gt;That's no concern of yours now&lt;br /&gt;How could you possibly think&lt;br /&gt;You had the power to know how to keep me breathing as the water rises up again&lt;br /&gt;Before I slip away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the games I play and the words I say when I want my own way&lt;br /&gt;You know the lies I tell when you've gone through hell and I say I can't stay&lt;br /&gt;You know how hard it can be to keep believing in me&lt;br /&gt;When everything and everyone becomes my enemy&lt;br /&gt;And when there's nothing more you can do I'm gona blame it on you&lt;br /&gt;It's not the way I wana be&lt;br /&gt;I only hope that in the end you will see it's the Opheliac in me...&lt;br /&gt;It's the Opheliac in me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Studies show intelligent girls are more depressed&lt;br /&gt;Because they know&lt;br /&gt;That the world can lie&lt;br /&gt;I don't think for a bit they sit around and think every things gona be alright&lt;br /&gt;They know who: sides, shadows; shapes, a devil, an angel; no in-between&lt;br /&gt;She speaks in third person so that she can forget that she's me&lt;br /&gt;Doubt thou the stars on fire&lt;br /&gt;Doubt thou the sun doth move&lt;br /&gt;Doubt truth to be a liar&lt;br /&gt;But never doubt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doubt thou the stars on fire&lt;br /&gt;Doubt thou the sun doth move&lt;br /&gt;Doubt truth to be a liar&lt;br /&gt;But never doubt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doubt thou the stars on fire&lt;br /&gt;Doubt thou the sun doth move&lt;br /&gt;Doubt truth to be a liar&lt;br /&gt;But never doubt&lt;br /&gt;I love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the games I play and the words I say when I want my own way&lt;br /&gt;You know the lies I tell when you've gone through hell and I say I cant stay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how hard it can be to keep believing in me&lt;br /&gt;When everything and everyone becomes my enemy&lt;br /&gt;And when there's nothing more you can do I'm gona blame it on you&lt;br /&gt;It's not the way I wana be&lt;br /&gt;I only hope that in the end you will see&lt;br /&gt;But never doubt&lt;br /&gt;You know the games I play and the words I say when I want my own way&lt;br /&gt;You know the lies I tell when you've gone through hell and I say I can't stay&lt;br /&gt;You know how hard it can be to keep believing in me&lt;br /&gt;When everything and everyone becomes my enemy&lt;br /&gt;And when there's nothing more you can do I'm gona blame it on you&lt;br /&gt;It's not the way I wana be&lt;br /&gt;I only hope that in the end you will see         &lt;!--ringtones and media links --&gt;         &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-3925160158539695070?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3925160158539695070/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=3925160158539695070' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/3925160158539695070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/3925160158539695070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/11/axel-rudi-pell-broken-heart-spune-ceva.html' title=''/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SerIEGDlncI/AAAAAAAAAHY/CkhWeDZ88Hc/s72-c/23973661_Emilie_Autumn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-1071186336968166384</id><published>2008-11-20T16:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T20:46:26.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Povestea fara de sfarsit a unui suflet...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SSX7hrIdu0I/AAAAAAAAADw/3Trit9pa3OU/s1600-h/Picture+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SSX7hrIdu0I/AAAAAAAAADw/3Trit9pa3OU/s200/Picture+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270895494839515970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atata frustrare... Vise naruite ... totul e negru in jur si parca nu mai are nimeni scapare... E deprimant , melancolic si extrem de nevrotic. Ma face sa o iau la goana dar mi-e prea lene ... mi-e prea lene sa traiesc asa cum o faceam inainte... Tot ce fac e sa stau sa citesc, sa ma holbez pe pereti gandindu-ma la viata mea si sa nu ajung la nici o concluzie , sa fumez in exces si sa beau cafea.&lt;br /&gt;Odata cineva m-a intrebat daca am fost vreodata fericita... Ei bine ... Da am fost ft fericita o mare parte din viata mea... dar brusc totul s-a intors cu fundul in sus si nu mai am ce sa mai fac... ma plictisesc de moarte in fiecare zi ... ascult nerozeniile tuturor din jurul meu si ma intreb cum de am ajuns sa traiesc intr-o lume plina de oameni cu creiere de gaina ... si ma gandesc la ce as putea sa fac ca sa ies din aceasta stare... si ghici ce imi vine in minte... NIMIC! Nu am ce sa fac ... e o stare ce nu vrea nici de al dracu sa isi faca bagajele si sa se care undeva departe... Traiesc intr-un stres continuu si nu vad scapare...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cineva incearca sa o ia pe EA de langa mine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NU pot sa am o viata persoanala fiindca exista mereu cineva care se baga in ea si da cu ciocu peste tot in sat despre lucruri care nici nu se intampla si toata lumea imi monitorizeaza toate miscarile de parca as fi vreo vedeta... Sunt unii carora o astfel de atentie le-ar placea la nebunie ... Dar nu mie ... NU NU ... Fetei ciudate si antisociale nu ii place atentia [ CREDETI CA ATI PUTEA INTELEGE ACEST CONCEPT ?]&lt;br /&gt;Nu, nu urasc pe nimeni... Oricat de ciudat ar parea . Doar ca nu mai suport sa traiesc in asemenea conditii. Nu, nu o sa ma sinucid [ deoarece cred cu tarie ca nu este o optiune si nici o rezolvare pt problemele mele sau ale oricui altcuiva]  iar asta nu e o scrisoare a cuiva pe patul de moarte.&lt;br /&gt;Nesiguranta te duce la neincredere in tine si mai ales in cei din jurul tau. Analizeaza mai bine ce vrei sa faci si o sa vezi ca nu ai ajuns inca intr-o fundatura si daca te schimbi un pic si iti faci ordine in viata o sa incepi sa crezi iar in tine si in ceea ce poti TU face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessed be...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-1071186336968166384?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1071186336968166384/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=1071186336968166384' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/1071186336968166384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/1071186336968166384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/11/atata-frustrare.html' title='Povestea fara de sfarsit a unui suflet...'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SSX7hrIdu0I/AAAAAAAAADw/3Trit9pa3OU/s72-c/Picture+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-4009062854592660000</id><published>2008-10-15T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T17:56:21.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Angel on my shoulder  - Mattafix</title><content type='html'>You cannot be certain,&lt;br /&gt;you cannot be sure.&lt;br /&gt;all those times that I took for granted left me wanting more.&lt;br /&gt;Now that I've awoken, I'm ready to adore though my heart is broken I'm brighter than before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can be disheartened, made a fool again,you cant'see the future,and who knows how this ends.&lt;br /&gt;Now I hear you calling,the dance has begun,&lt;br /&gt;head and heals I'm falling are you gonna be the one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Won't somebody tell me where is the love?&lt;br /&gt;I know when I see her face, she will soon replace the pain that I've uncovered.&lt;br /&gt;Where is love?&lt;br /&gt;and why does it hurt so much?and will I measure up if I get to hold her?&lt;br /&gt;the angel on my shoulder&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-4009062854592660000?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4009062854592660000/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=4009062854592660000' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/4009062854592660000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/4009062854592660000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/10/angel-on-my-shoulder-mattafix.html' title='Angel on my shoulder  - Mattafix'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-4929011618923802593</id><published>2008-10-15T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T17:43:24.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes...</title><content type='html'>Cateodata simt ca ar tebui sa fug undeva departe sa ma izolez fiindca simt ca incep sa ma urasc fiindca sunt ciudata si fiindca am nevoia sa iubesc. Rareori am acest gand , acest gand de a tine la cineva... Nu am nevoie de sentimente atunci cand perversez...DA!  Am o minte perversa care uneori pune stapanire pe celelalte simturi si le ucide pt cateva clipe si atunci imi pierd controlul. Ma pierd pe mine si ma regasesc in altii. Altii care vin cu altele mai rele ca ale mele. Acum vreau sa iubesc dar nu sunt lasata. Ceva sau cineva nu ma lasa. Sa fie oare ratiunea sau frica? Prefer sa nu aflu sau poate ca vreau. Nimic nu mai e concret si acum tot ce vreau e sa perversez impreuna cu oameni perversi.&lt;br /&gt;Stau si ascult Sopor Aeternus intr-o camera intunecata. Si ghici ce? Doresc sa perversez. Da cu tine. Dar nu ma lasi. De ce? Fiindca tipa cineva sau ceva ... o parte din tine. Cateodata e bine sa te lasi in voia simturilor tale dar cateodata nu. Asa cum eu doar cateodata simt nevoia sa iubesc...&lt;br /&gt;Asa ca lasa-ma ... Sa fac ceea ce fac eu cateodata si nu ma opri. Lasa-ma sa fiu eu... Fiindca stiu ca o sa iti placa...&lt;br /&gt;Lasa-ma in voia mea... si o sa vezi ... probabil o alta lume... sau nu. Poate o sa vezi ceva ce iti place si ceva ce ai mai facut dar cum eu nu cred in coincidente... clar asta nu e coincidenta.&lt;br /&gt;Lasa-ma sa fac ceea ce fac eu cateodata. Sa fiu eu... si nimic mai mult.&lt;br /&gt;Si atunci vei stii ceea ce vrei sa stii...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-4929011618923802593?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4929011618923802593/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=4929011618923802593' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/4929011618923802593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/4929011618923802593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/10/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes...'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-4871246694547900702</id><published>2008-09-25T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T09:52:10.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De L'ombre</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;De l'ombre-je m'asseoir et de regarder à vous. Je vous admire. Je désire vous. Je veux que vous près de moi maintenant et pas plus tard. Je t'aime de l'ombre. Qu'arrive-t-il si je vous dis ce que je ressens à l'ombre? Aurez-vous le même visage? Il est étrange de l'amour de l'ombre sans  que vous voulez avoir une idée encore. Je t'aime, je  te veux  . Vous êtes exactement comme je l'ai rêvé. Je veux que vous être le mien, et je vous ... et si nous marchons, main dans la main clair de lune dans cette nuit claire où seul le ciel étoilé est notre seul témoin. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt; Je t'aime. Je sais pour sûr. mais je crains les blessures de l'âme ... Je ne veux pas être blessé de nouveau ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt; Je veux seulement vivre d'être autour de vous, vous en dehors de mon amour. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt; Je t'aime ... de l'ombre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-4871246694547900702?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4871246694547900702/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=4871246694547900702' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/4871246694547900702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/4871246694547900702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/09/de-lombre.html' title='De L&apos;ombre'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-7447904324936339740</id><published>2008-09-15T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T16:09:54.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Viziune macabra - mood: Depressed</title><content type='html'>Este septembrie. Scolile au inceput si peste tot pe strazi  vezi copii mici care se duc de mana cu ai lor parinti catre scoala pentru a face un nou pas in viata sau pentru a continua micii pasi de pana acum. Atmosfera este deprimanta, fiindca ma gandesc ca odata eram si eu asa acum mult timp, iar acum ... am intrat in lumea adultilor unde locul de munca e cel mai important si restul ... ehhh ... restul nu prea mai conteaza...&lt;br /&gt;Dupa o vara caniculara s-a lasat frigul. Rafalele de vant prezic o iarna friguroasa. Sau nu...&lt;br /&gt;Azi -noapte a plouat... si azi a plouat... deprimant...&lt;br /&gt;Totusi nu mai sunt in stare sa las cuvintele sa curga acum... Mi-e lene... si scarba de societatea asta ciudata in care traiesc si traim cu totii pana la urma .... bine ca nah.. fiecare o priveste si o judeca din punctul sau de vedere. Pentru mine ... nu mai inseamna nimic... M-am saturat si m-am plictisit de monotonie.. si se spune ca artistii nu traiesc in monotonie.. ba bine ca nu.... Cand esti in lipsa de inspiratie devii melancolic .... cel putin asa patesc eu.... despre altii .... nu stiu.. si prefer sa nu imi dau cu parerea....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inca o zi in infern .... oare azi cu ce animal ma voi intalni ?&lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu... dar poate k nici nu vreau sa stiu...&lt;br /&gt;Prefer sa ma afund in gandurile mele .. macar acolo sunt in siguranta... ele sunt singurele care ma salveaza din monotonie... Visez cu ochii deschisi... nici macar nu mai dorm cum trebuie...&lt;br /&gt;Dar nu mai conteaza...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-7447904324936339740?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7447904324936339740/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=7447904324936339740' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/7447904324936339740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/7447904324936339740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/09/viziune-macabra-mood-depressed.html' title='Viziune macabra - mood: Depressed'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-8539881951536070424</id><published>2008-09-07T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T14:29:10.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Asteptarea</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMRD7PkbjSI/AAAAAAAAADI/9uB6iM2YdwA/s1600-h/anniinareimiorsa49ll.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMRD7PkbjSI/AAAAAAAAADI/9uB6iM2YdwA/s200/anniinareimiorsa49ll.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243390551236775202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Un ultim sarut , o ultima imbratisare &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Sa iti simt inima pulsand langa pieptul meu dezgolit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;O ultima privire si apoi sa mor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Totul in jurul meu se rezuma la uitare...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Si usor, usor inteleg cum din moarte nu mai ai scapare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Trec pe strada pustie si ma uit la banca unde obisnuiam sa stam &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Nu mai e nimic si totul indica uitarea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Stelele nu mai stralucesc ca odinioara &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Iar copacii acum doar plang...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Dar eu nu mai vad si nu mai simt &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Caci doar astept...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Cand te-am vazut intaia oara straluceai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Cu o lumina nemaintalnita...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Incat am fost orbita de felul tau de a fi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Dar nu cred nu mai inteleg... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Totul e confuz in acest abis al singuratatii mele ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;iar tot ce mi-a ramas .... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;E asteptarea....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-8539881951536070424?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/8539881951536070424/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=8539881951536070424' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/8539881951536070424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/8539881951536070424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/09/asteptarea.html' title='Asteptarea'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMRD7PkbjSI/AAAAAAAAADI/9uB6iM2YdwA/s72-c/anniinareimiorsa49ll.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-7999893104793384341</id><published>2008-09-07T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T10:21:26.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ceara</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMRCusLBIMI/AAAAAAAAADA/cMS9aEy8MHo/s1600-h/0249.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMRCusLBIMI/AAAAAAAAADA/cMS9aEy8MHo/s200/0249.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243389236064886978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Dorm adanc statuile de ceara&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Si trandafirii de pe masa parca se topesc &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;La lumanare stau si citesc &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Singuratate...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;In intunericul de nepatruns &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Al odaii sumbre &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Unde doar picturile vorbesc &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Cu statueta mea de ceara verde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Chiar si eu mai stau si privesc ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Ochii ei de jad...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Iar toate florile vorbesc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;In soapta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;In pat stau si privesc tabloul &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Ce pare sa-mi intoarca privirea &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Pleoapele mi-s grele ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Amintirea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Iar pe fruntea-mi rece...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Se prelinge usor ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Un vis de ceara...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-7999893104793384341?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7999893104793384341/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=7999893104793384341' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/7999893104793384341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/7999893104793384341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/09/ceara.html' title='Ceara'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMRCusLBIMI/AAAAAAAAADA/cMS9aEy8MHo/s72-c/0249.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-7324555769720380580</id><published>2008-09-07T13:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T14:01:51.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMQ_0FoJKnI/AAAAAAAAAC4/sKzax-EUKZw/s1600-h/Alexa+5.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMQ_0FoJKnI/AAAAAAAAAC4/sKzax-EUKZw/s200/Alexa+5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243386030262397554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi querida mejor amiga Alejandra.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-7324555769720380580?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7324555769720380580/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=7324555769720380580' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/7324555769720380580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/7324555769720380580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/09/mi-querida-mejor-amiga-alejandra.html' title=''/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMQ_0FoJKnI/AAAAAAAAAC4/sKzax-EUKZw/s72-c/Alexa+5.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-5157718751824895030</id><published>2008-09-06T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T12:52:27.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sfarsitul nu-i aici</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMLfW_mbKUI/AAAAAAAAACw/b9--Pl6oOXU/s1600-h/gothic8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMLfW_mbKUI/AAAAAAAAACw/b9--Pl6oOXU/s200/gothic8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242998502335392066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Acesta este un cantec al celor de la Pasarea Colibri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Cand necazuri te doboara&lt;br /&gt;Si prieteni n-ai sa-i strigi&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si ce slaveai in taina&lt;br /&gt;E ca si cum nu-ti explici&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;Nu-i aici, nu, nu-i aici, nu&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand oprit la o rascruce&lt;br /&gt;Drumul nu sti s-al prezici&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand nu mai ai nici vise&lt;br /&gt;Si nu sti cum sa te ridici&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;Nu-i aici, nu, nu-i aici, nu&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand s-aduna norii negri&lt;br /&gt;Ploaia cade ca un brici&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mangaiere n-ai, nu vezi acum&lt;br /&gt;Maini intinse de amici&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;Nu-i aici, nu, nu-i aici, nu&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pomul vieti creste mandru&lt;br /&gt;Unde spiritul e viu&lt;br /&gt;Lumineaza iar salvarea&lt;br /&gt;Cerul gol si cenusiu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cand orasele-s in flacari&lt;br /&gt;Musunoaie de furnici&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si cand cauti in zadar un om&lt;br /&gt;Printr-atatea mii de venetici&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;Nu-i aici, nu, nu-i aici, nu&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu-i aici, nu, nu-i aici, nu&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu-i aici, nu, nu-i aici, nu&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aici&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu-i aici, nu, nu-i aici, nu&lt;br /&gt;Tine minte, sfarsitul nu-i aicï..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-5157718751824895030?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5157718751824895030/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=5157718751824895030' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/5157718751824895030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/5157718751824895030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/09/sfarsitul-nu-i-aici.html' title='Sfarsitul nu-i aici'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMLfW_mbKUI/AAAAAAAAACw/b9--Pl6oOXU/s72-c/gothic8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-1212717883475187429</id><published>2008-09-06T04:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T04:41:14.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMJr-CwyzuI/AAAAAAAAAB8/DTYwd5mpSI4/s1600-h/Inside+my+mouth.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMJr-CwyzuI/AAAAAAAAAB8/DTYwd5mpSI4/s320/Inside+my+mouth.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242871629850267362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-1212717883475187429?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1212717883475187429/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=1212717883475187429' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/1212717883475187429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/1212717883475187429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/09/scream.html' title='Scream'/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMJr-CwyzuI/AAAAAAAAAB8/DTYwd5mpSI4/s72-c/Inside+my+mouth.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-4761952578179797864</id><published>2008-09-05T17:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T17:54:29.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMHUutvgQCI/AAAAAAAAABs/FzlpgmWaCws/s1600-h/shiva_by_reianamy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMHUutvgQCI/AAAAAAAAABs/FzlpgmWaCws/s320/shiva_by_reianamy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242705340253880354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-4761952578179797864?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4761952578179797864/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=4761952578179797864' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/4761952578179797864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/4761952578179797864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMHUutvgQCI/AAAAAAAAABs/FzlpgmWaCws/s72-c/shiva_by_reianamy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4957260113621113863.post-7388647148056655117</id><published>2008-09-05T17:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T04:25:29.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMHSKHFLvoI/AAAAAAAAABk/9fnjLYh-SPQ/s1600-h/black_sun_rise_by_reianamy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMHSKHFLvoI/AAAAAAAAABk/9fnjLYh-SPQ/s320/black_sun_rise_by_reianamy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242702512377282178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;When I sit and stare at you my heart fills with happiness....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As I sit and remember all the times I was with you my heart bursts with joy....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As I sit and picture your face in my mind .. my heart stands still.... and tries to catch every glimpse of your face to seal it deep inside. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Try and remember my heartbeat cause it beats to the rithm of your breath... it beats for you and thru you...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;But now you're gone...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And i feel like i could hate you forever...But I don't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I can't ...I must not... Because I know it will eat me inside out and then I will lose that small bit of me that still trusts in people.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Goodnight... Goodbye... Farewell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4957260113621113863-7388647148056655117?l=lesnoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7388647148056655117/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4957260113621113863&amp;postID=7388647148056655117' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/7388647148056655117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4957260113621113863/posts/default/7388647148056655117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lesnoir.blogspot.com/2008/09/when-i-sit-and-stare-at-you-my-heart.html' title=''/><author><name>Angela LeNoir</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11399951293039694542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SYFOKArESII/AAAAAAAAAEI/syZxTw0N1jI/S220/Image2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K5qvWQID2gU/SMHSKHFLvoI/AAAAAAAAABk/9fnjLYh-SPQ/s72-c/black_sun_rise_by_reianamy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
