tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30339765253425705942024-02-08T01:52:46.802+02:00priceless moments every dayIustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.comBlogger151125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-90074344276010449332013-08-22T22:42:00.002+03:002013-08-22T22:42:38.979+03:00M-am mutat!M-am mutat... şi urât din partea mea că nu v-am spus până acum. De v-a plăcut ce aţi găsit aici, de vreţi mai mult, sau poate altceva, eu zic că merită să-mi faceţi o vizită. Aici: <a href="http://ultimasuta.ro/">Paşi prin viaţă</a>.<br />
<br />
Vă aştept cu drag. Şi de-o fi să nu ni se mai întretaie drumurile internetului... vă doresc să fiţi buni, frumoşi, blânzi şi să iubiţi din toată inima.<br />
<br />
A voastră vorbă scrisă,<br />
IustinaIustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-24157202645367389922013-02-14T16:00:00.001+02:002013-02-14T16:00:14.522+02:0014 februarie 2013, o zi cât o lună<p>14 februarie 2013, o zi în care am trăit şi simţit cât într-o lună...</p> <p>Atât de mult că aproape doare. <br> Doare undeva în inimă, într-un loc de care aproape că uitasem... acolo unde inima nu se întâlnește cu sufletul, pentru că sufletul este inima.</p> <p> Şi este abia 4 d.a.</p> Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-2576077694890602122013-02-07T23:33:00.001+02:002013-02-07T23:33:39.988+02:00priceless moment no. 93<b>an unbelievable optimistic day</b><br />
<br />
from dawn to dusk, optimism and joy surrounded me all day long.<br />
no specific reason. no holiday.<br />
just a perfect feeling that "everything is ok"<br />
I wish all days were like that, for me and all of you!Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-72875516788730853742013-02-05T21:47:00.001+02:002013-02-05T21:47:19.639+02:00just a thought about... addictive<p>are we addicted to our own happiness?<br>
yes, we are.</p>
<p>if we get it or not, well... that's a different story.</p>
Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-64757308387850776212013-01-30T22:12:00.001+02:002013-01-30T22:12:27.105+02:00just a thought about... dreams<p>dreams on my pillow... are waiting for me...<br>
should I go and follow them? </p>
Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-14109602273541303922013-01-24T00:28:00.001+02:002017-01-24T11:26:56.276+02:00drum spre noapte<div>mă-ndrept spre noapte,</div><div>printre şoapte</div><div>păşesc timid şi mă desprind</div><div>de lungul zilei mult tumult</div><div><br></div><div>fug </div><div>mă arunc</div><div>şi prind în zbor</div><div>un gând uitat şi trecător</div><div><br></div><div>mă las alene printre perne...</div><div>să dorm şi să visez eu îmi doresc</div><div>să uit de zgomot, praf şi mult prea mult</div><div>să zbor şi să alerg pe nori</div><div><br></div><div>o singură dorinţă îmi aprind</div><div>la steaua scliptitoare lung privind</div><div>să regăsesc minunea din poveste</div><div>şi eu în palmă să o prind</div><div><br></div><div>Drum spre noapte © Iustina Dorobanțu</div>
Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-86227797784460125132013-01-12T22:05:00.001+02:002013-01-17T22:53:22.071+02:00priceless moment no. 92<b>a difficult day</b><br />
<br />
while being a burden, a mess of thoughts or a burst of tears, a difficult days ends with something more than the day before. most probably no medal to be received, but experience, accomplishments & a new you, more powerful, are so important. you may rest now. take a sleep and prepare for all that may follow.Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-26902877262740096462013-01-09T18:54:00.002+02:002013-01-09T18:54:26.766+02:00priceless moment no. 91<div>
<b>stand-up comedy show</b><br />
<br />
These guy know how to face life. They take any little thing, put it upside down, and then build it again. And they reveal the best part of life and human nature: we pass through life making fun of bad moments, we have the power to look at things, laugh of worst and leave with it.</div>
Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-33703052451501430572012-11-24T00:52:00.000+02:002012-11-24T00:52:00.306+02:00Joc de cuvinte<div style="text-align: right;">
<em>cand spunem totul despre nimic... sa spunem ca filosofam</em></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<em>dar cand despre tot nu spunem nimic... nu existam</em></div>
<br />
Joc de cuvinte, vorbe in vant<br />
Gasite, rostite, zdrobite<br />
Arunc in plin vant.<br />
<br />
Au fost vorbe goale, sau jocuri meschine<br />
Graind neinteles si fara valoare.<br />
Le-am sucit, le-am intors si chiar folosit.<br />
<br />
Am spus o mie de lucruri<br />
Cu sensuri cate stele sclipind poti privi<br />
Fara sa spun, in fapt, nimic.<br />
<br />
Am inventat limbaje din tarana<br />
Ca pietre pretioase sa fie pret de o clipa<br />
Apoi pe toate praf le-am facut.<br />
<br />
Te-am atins, te-am surprins,<br />
Te-am dus pana la stele<br />
Iar de acolo sa cazi te-am lasat.<br />
<br />
Vorbe straine, vorbe viclene<br />
Spre nestiut le trimit, sa dispara<br />
Nimic, nimanui, necunoscut<br />
Sa nu mai existe pe Pamant.<br />
<br />
<em>(c) Iustina Dorobantu </em>Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-26611564277634024402012-10-28T21:52:00.000+02:002012-10-28T21:52:39.992+02:00constrangere, a fi<div>
la prima vedere, o oarecare faptura</div>
<div>
avand, defapt, atat de multe de spus</div>
impartita intre ganduri si fapte, dorinte si realitati<br /><div>
ma reconstruiesc in fiecare zi din mii de cuvinte</div>
<div>
umplu pagini intregi de vise, sub ochi critici sau flamanzi</div>
<div>
renasc cu fiece idee noua, traiesc si mor in rand cu ea</div>
<div>
eu ma adun din toate cele spuse, din vise si simtiri, din ganduri si iubiri</div>
<div>
devin intregul meu nepretuit, asa cum doar eu ma stiu</div>
<div>
ce las in spate, greu de spus... franturi si urme, zambete si lacrimi</div>
<div>
un mozaic bizar si dificil de inteles</div>
<div>
dar nici nu vreau ca ei sa ma fi cunoscut </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-17259714489156903602012-10-20T22:55:00.007+03:002012-10-20T22:55:36.736+03:00so young and freeI am young and free<br />
<br />
As free as only flying birds can see<br />
<br />
I am free and feel<br />
As only leaving being could be<br />
<br />
I feel and love<br />
As only one lifetime love can be<br />
<br />
I love and treasure hugs<br />
As moon could only dream about<br />
I treasure life and wish for happiness<br />
As each and every human does<br />
<br />
I wish I knew you long before<br />
I wish my steps have gone with me so far away<br />
I wish I were not caught in my own time<br />
I wish I didn’t choose those words to say<br />
<br />
As when I look into my eyes<br />
The mirror caches my own breath <br />
And speechless I remain a while<br />
So deep forgotten in my mind<br />
<br />
I do return and live again<br />
Down to the bottom of my life<br />
And every nerve I have does feel<br />
That every moment that we share<br />
<br />
<br />
<em>© Iustina Dorobantu, 2012</em><br />
Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-40166077317067429782012-10-10T00:37:00.000+03:002012-10-10T00:37:54.283+03:00just a thought about... evo-invo-lution we assist to the evolution of the involution; and do nothing, as we do not recognize it.<br />
we don't even perceive clearly the involution of the evolution; 'cause we are so blinded by fake evolution.Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-11810469605524118482012-10-04T23:28:00.000+03:002012-10-04T23:28:02.956+03:00just a though about... seasonsThe day the colors were chosen, the Autumn was the third to choose...<br />
First, it was the Spring. It took all the bright colors and the green of revival.<br />
Then it came the Summer. It took the yellow for the sun, the blue for the sky and lots of colors for the flowers.<br />
Then, the Autumn. It had the least and also the most to pick up from. It took all the edges of colors, all the shades. 'Cause none of the colors was still available. And so it took it all: random spots, full shades of yellow, red and brown, the green-brown and the smell of rain.<br />
The last the Winter came, and only white was left behind, as color couldn't it be named....<br />
<br />
---------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<i>Cand s-au impartit anotimpurile, Toamna a fost a treia la rand...</i>Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-69282636423323458692012-10-04T00:33:00.001+03:002017-03-28T21:26:48.589+03:00ochi triști, ai tăi<p dir="ltr">să fie toamna timpul<br>
când ochii tăi sunt triști?<br>
să fie ploaia ce ne bate-n geam<br>
o tristă amintire răscolită?</p>
<p dir="ltr">privirea rătăcită-n gânduri<br>
și în povești al căror tâlc<br>
doar tu-l cunoști<br>
ți-o întâlnesc din întâmplare</p>
<p dir="ltr">tu nu mă vezi<br>
tu nu mă simți<br>
cu tine-n gânduri mă afund<br>
și-ți merg alături</p>
<p dir="ltr">cu greu te-ajung din urmă<br>
și te prind<br>
și las prăpastia să aștepte;<br>
azi nu vei fi al ei.</p>
<p dir="ltr">înveți din nou ce-i bucuria<br>
și zâmbetul revine pâlpâind<br>
pe-al tău chip de om bun<br>
surâsul e lipit acum.</p>
<p dir="ltr"><i>© Iustina </i>Dorobanțu </p>
Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-53993693937253317112012-09-26T00:51:00.003+03:002012-09-26T00:51:46.867+03:00priceless moment no. 90<b>go offline for a while</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<i>dedicated to those who's lives have been changes without notice, to those who can still go back</i><br />
<i><br /></i>We are so trapped by our pretty new online social environment, that we merely miss the rest. For several years now, we find ourselves caught by certain online social networks, friendship sites, messengers, blogging, sharing life through photos, updating professional status, leading discussions... while outside life itself is breathing under the blue sky and shinny sky, while the wind blows away our years, while our children grow and elders die... Some dance all night, some read for hours, some climb mountains, some cook, some tenderly kiss, some scream, some cry.<br />
<br />
If you're not one of those who were trapped a least once, happily you! Most probably you aren't reading this, at least not now. But someday, somehow... they'll catch you too. And at that point, you'll need to be prepared, you'll need to know how to breach out.<br />
<br />
We can't escape. We can't pass by not knowing, not doing it. So we just have to know when it's enough and really know where the boundary is - between using and being used. We need to know when and how to take a deep breath. We need to learn to step aside and stay. We need to laugh with friends side by side. We need to go online just for a reason. And the reason should be a good one.<br />
We need to know how to go offline for a while. Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-62375496548208376232012-07-24T01:18:00.001+03:002012-08-09T12:57:54.820+03:00priceless moment no. 89<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
<b>wind in summer</b><br />
<br />
It could have been another Monday evening. It could have been an ordinary day. It could have been a simple night fall before the next four working days.<br />
But the wind decided not to be like yesterday. Nor like the week before.<br />
I urged for some fresh air, I dreamed about a few clouds in the sky. I put on a light dress and went outside. As I turned my eyes up, I realized. I heard. I felt. The wind was running through the tree, and leaves seamed to sing as they were balanced. The dark blue sky revealed just a few stars. The coulds seamed rather orange due to city light that went up to reach them. The trees were bending. My hair flew all around. My dress was running by the wind and the cold air was surrounding life itself. The only human-touched sound was from my neighbours' feng shui door bells.<br />
I closed my eyes and let my heart run with the wind.<br />
The leaves are still singing... but it's already too late... so I'll choose a place to sleep. As it may really be my bed, today I'll call it my palace of wind-pillows.<br />
Good night and sweet dreams, my beloved wind! Today I'm free, as you! </div>Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-84121124193092457932012-07-14T21:10:00.001+03:002012-08-09T12:57:45.131+03:00priceless moment no. 88<div style="color: black;">
</div>
<div style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-top: 3.6pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0in; unicode-bidi: embed;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>those days when internet was
not yet born… when mailbox was real</b></span></div>
<div style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-top: 3.6pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0in; unicode-bidi: embed;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-top: 3.6pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0in; unicode-bidi: embed;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I miss… I miss the old days ... when I was choosing the paper,
choosing the envelope, choosing the pen. Then I started writing and fill
several pages in a row.<br />
Then I used to go to the post office to buy a beautiful stamp, stuck it
carefully in the corner and then, excited, I used to throw the letter in the
large red box on the street. <br />
Then wait. Counting the days. I imagine how my letter was put in plastic bag,
then sorted, the went far away into the last carriage of the train, then
arrived at another post office, then it was placed carefully in a big brown bag
among other letters and finally arrived in the mailbox.<br />
It was carefully torn, or cut in speed, in the first minute or after a few
days. Then started to write back. And keep writing. And writing. Answered my
questions, told me new things and made a long list of questions. And plans for
farewell.<br />
Then a new letter started the adventure of its life on the way to me. <br />
And I counted the days I should receive it. And one day, I opened the mailbox
...</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15pt;"><br /></span>Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-62773538068492837452012-07-09T21:06:00.002+03:002012-08-09T12:57:13.461+03:00just a thought about... be the changewhen things don't change, change perspective!<br />
it might work.Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-77346887906943442102012-07-03T00:33:00.000+03:002012-07-03T00:33:48.916+03:00just a thought about... changesenergy flows. matter transforms. people change. history repeats. life goes on.Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-49729338548955428802012-06-21T23:05:00.005+03:002012-06-21T23:09:38.013+03:00Praf de stele<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Am sa ma uit in sus la stele</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cu palmele constelatii intregi am sa prind</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Le voi tine strans sa nu fuga</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Din praf de stele imi va fi camasa de noapte</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Si voi visa inainte s-adorm...<br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>© Iustina Dorobantu</i></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-11368113403221288082012-05-13T21:12:00.001+03:002012-05-13T21:13:36.507+03:00priceless moment no. 87<b>grandma's cookies </b><br />
<br />
delicious, even years after she's gone<br />
good recipes never fail<br />
thanks you for the know-how!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp71pvIGZIRvTA8JO3IpIDawpXON5edwaAU-nCpWUwTA8eC_Uep9DkQ-Onm4rqo1ONutFmxN3czYAicgkiPbSDiY_JpyEmZ0OIED0XU5KyW8czd5eGCU9XNvkQ-8MN5VsJlHxUJ2XrTe0/s1600/P1140888+id.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp71pvIGZIRvTA8JO3IpIDawpXON5edwaAU-nCpWUwTA8eC_Uep9DkQ-Onm4rqo1ONutFmxN3czYAicgkiPbSDiY_JpyEmZ0OIED0XU5KyW8czd5eGCU9XNvkQ-8MN5VsJlHxUJ2XrTe0/s320/P1140888+id.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-58516375273458506932012-05-09T19:28:00.001+03:002012-05-09T19:38:26.599+03:00priceless moment no. 86<div><p>the after rain. in summer time. </p>
<p>That moment when the rain is gone, but not too long ago, when the air is fresh, when you feel the smell of grass awakening your senses... that moment is a must have in the summer.</p>
</div>Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-52732880053439023082012-05-02T20:10:00.001+03:002012-05-02T22:00:42.259+03:00Luna mea alba frumoasa<div>
Ne privesti de sus frumoasa<br />
Ne intorci privirea-n drum<br />
Ne uimesti si ne adormi<br />
Luna mea duioasa<br />
<br />
Cand o geana, cand mareata,<br />
Cand ascunsa dupa nori...<br />
Biscuite frant in doua<br />
Luna mea petrecareata<br />
<br />
Azi apari in plina noapte<br />
Sa veghezi zorii tacuta<br />
Maine pe lumina vii<br />
Luna mea necunoscuta<br />
<br />
Un ochi mare lucitor<br />
Sfidator peste necazuri<br />
Te ridici si te cobori<br />
Luna mea taioasa<br />
<br />
Nu lasi sa se vada fata<br />
Celui ce la panda sta<br />
In umbra il feresti de noi<br />
Luna mea misterioasa<br />
<br />
Multe stii tu despre noi<br />
Cate noi habar n-avem<br />
Oare va veni si ziua<br />
Noi pe tine sa te stim?<br />
<br />
Luna mea, dragostea mea,<br />
Alba, dulce, maiestoasa,<br />
Rece si misterioasa,<br />
Luna ademenitoare... <br />
<br />
<i>(c) Iustina Dorobantu</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_RYDZCe5TmVGrdStYKR4joNrPeg-Zgp18Ck3fkllkc3GANTv4pecq2yrIw3EYVDovn3EC9ZPCcFluduvjPnzFT-tra0cMmObnm48actkDPgGg_SWzKe0sal2_XVuOky7P5HmHpX9qow/s1600/P1140767-luna+v3+iustina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_RYDZCe5TmVGrdStYKR4joNrPeg-Zgp18Ck3fkllkc3GANTv4pecq2yrIw3EYVDovn3EC9ZPCcFluduvjPnzFT-tra0cMmObnm48actkDPgGg_SWzKe0sal2_XVuOky7P5HmHpX9qow/s400/P1140767-luna+v3+iustina.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i></div>Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-38964195491720135762012-04-22T23:39:00.001+03:002012-04-22T23:39:22.879+03:00just a thought about... inspire-expireI inspire, I get inspired<br />
I expire, I aspire<br />
<br />
one for breathing, one for being<br />
one for living, one for feelingIustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3033976525342570594.post-12772165855373271212012-04-17T08:22:00.001+03:002012-04-17T08:37:38.020+03:00priceless moment no. 85<div><p><b>sweet spring rain</b> </p>
<p>It's raining so soft that I can bearly feel the water drops falling on my cheeks. The fresh spring smell invades me. And I just can't controll myself... a large smile has installed on my face, changing me for the entire day, week, spring... <br>
Sweet rain, I sing with you!</p>
</div>Iustina D.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17449900413082049219noreply@blogger.com0