<?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-3426615581980803900</id><updated>2012-02-16T21:28:32.338+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Postutero</title><subtitle type='html'>Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall-
                                                                       William Shakespeare</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postutero.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3426615581980803900/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postutero.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06321021126785986246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lsOEyanKjx4/ScF8Ye86bXI/AAAAAAAAABY/Xnc3C4osZvE/S220/SDC10889.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426615581980803900.post-2955856946568982091</id><published>2009-03-19T00:58:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T01:13:36.180+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "&gt;Stau intins pe podeaua camerei mele, altar al fricii si al incertitudinii. Simit cum parfumul zilelor de mult apuse paraseste orice amintire lasand-o goala, fara speranta si emotie. Ma intrebam cand am incetat sa fiu eu pentru a lasa aceasta forma de existenta malefica sa ia nastere in interiorul meu? De cand sunt un fugar?! De cand nu mai am pace, liniste si somn?! In ce moment am decis sa incalc regulile nescrise ale unui suflet aflat in pace si armonie?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tot ce mai devreme parea calm acum e neliniste. Toate amintirile care pana acum erau dulcea alinare se pierd acum lasand loc temerii.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sunt posedat de durere. Ma urmaresc regretele. Visez cel mai urat cosmar. Traversez noaptea cea mai neagra. Caut cu disperare lumina dar aceasta refuza sa se arate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ochii mei sunt tulburi. Nu reusesc sa vad nimic in urul meu. Doar sa simt. Ce ironic- sufletul meu pustiu a devenit acum singura harta spre o lume ce oscileaza intre nebunie si frumos, Rai si Iad... Nirvana sau reincarnarea eterna. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Deodata navighez pe un camp de batalie aflat chiar in interiorul meu. Cineva se joaca cu mintea mea... e o stare de insomnie care nu ma lasa sa gandesc... trebuie sa scap dar nu stiu unde. In fata mea Fiarele inghit amintirile frumoase si speranta. In fata ochilor mei trupul cedeaza devenid prada Uratului, Nebuniei si Fanteziei. Si deodata... in mijlocul acelui act criminal o mana apare ma trage spre lumina. Simt caldura....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ma trezesc de pe podeaua rece a camerei mele. Simt ca am castigat batalia... dar nu si razboiul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3426615581980803900-2955856946568982091?l=postutero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postutero.blogspot.com/feeds/2955856946568982091/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3426615581980803900&amp;postID=2955856946568982091' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3426615581980803900/posts/default/2955856946568982091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3426615581980803900/posts/default/2955856946568982091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postutero.blogspot.com/2009/03/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06321021126785986246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lsOEyanKjx4/ScF8Ye86bXI/AAAAAAAAABY/Xnc3C4osZvE/S220/SDC10889.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426615581980803900.post-2926260277024447666</id><published>2009-03-03T22:01:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T22:02:36.657+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Lectia de viata</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Helvetica; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; Acolo unde norii ating luna, acolo unde marea atinge cerul, unde stele stralucesc mai puternic decat orice; acolo se afla Baiatul. Se plimba linistit, pe aceasta margine de lume, pe un pod peste o mare de ganduri si trairi. Stie de ce se afla acolo, stie care este rolul sau in viata: are un vis, are o bagheta si cu acestea va schimba lumea. Stie ca bagheta lui este diferita de a celorlalti oameni si mai stie ca Dumnezeul le-a dat tuturor o bagheta doar ca unii uita sa o foloseasca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   Aude cantecul magic al unei privighetori si invata ca uneori in viata, atunci cand durerea si nelinistea pun stapanire pe fiinta ta este mai bine sa crezi, sa lupti in continuare cu ce ai mai valoros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   Peisajul in care Baiatul este captiv este cu totul special; soarele- ca un rubin nepretuit lumineaza pe o bolta de cristal in timp ce milioane de stele indepartate stralucesc cu putere. Stie ca atunci cand ai un crez esti puternic si ca nici timpul nici spatiul nu te pot impiedica sa iti traiesti fantezia. Si tocmai de la stele a invatat ca puterea inseamna prietenie si prietenia este o comoara dupa care poti alerga lumea-n lung si-n lat si pe care o vei gasi in cel mai special colt al inimii tale.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   Gandurile Baiatului sunt infinite. Are atatea de povestit. Mainile sale vor sa scrie, ochii vor sa vada iar sufletul vrea sa simta. Se uita in spate si vede chipurile celor dragi, vede iubire, prietenie si caldura. In fata sa se asterne un drum lung; pare infinit. Se afla pe acelasi pod al viselor si stie ca undeva, la un capat indepartat il asteapta nemurirea. Ar vrea sa continue, dar nu poate. Nu este un drum pe care sa il poti strabate singur. Are nevoie de prieteni, de har si de credinta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   Deodata, soarele apune, marea devine tulbure iar cerul este brazdat de fulgere fioroase. Spatiul visarii sale este atacat. Durerea, tristetea si nelinistea ii invadeaza propriul paradis. II este frica. Ploua peste poteca viselor; ploua si in inima sa. Simte cum regretele ii indunda sufletul. Se simte prins intr-un dans al melancoliei. Este martor intr-un carnaval macabru care spulbera orice raza de speranta. Pamantul ii fuge de sub picioare si cade rapus. Isi aduce aminte ca nu intotdeauna a fost asa. Stie ca poate castiga aceasta batalie. El are un vis in care crede, are speranta intr-o lume mai buna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   Se ridica. Se uita spre cer si isi rosteste crezul. Are puterea sa duca acest razboi la final si vede cum regretele dispar. Simte prietenia si iubirea celor apropiati si durerea este alinata. Ininde mana spre cer cu speranta si nelinistea piere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   Soarele rasare din nou, valurile lenese ale marii mangaie nisipul auriu al tarmului si Baiatul este gata sa isi continue drumul.Mai are de invatat atatea... dar tot ce trebuie sa stie pentru drum a invatat. Are cele mai pretioase arme din lume care il vor ajuta sa castige orice batalie: credinta, speranta si prietenie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Epilog: Fata se afla pe o margine de lume. Stie ca are un drum lung de parcurs pe poteca pavata cu vise ce se intinde in fata ei. Si mai stie ca undeva, pe drumul acesta anevoios rataceste si jumatatea ei. Nu are cum sa piarda! Are o viata intreaga de trait, de vazut si de iubit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3426615581980803900-2926260277024447666?l=postutero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postutero.blogspot.com/feeds/2926260277024447666/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3426615581980803900&amp;postID=2926260277024447666' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3426615581980803900/posts/default/2926260277024447666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3426615581980803900/posts/default/2926260277024447666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postutero.blogspot.com/2009/03/lectia-de-viata.html' title='Lectia de viata'/><author><name>alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06321021126785986246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lsOEyanKjx4/ScF8Ye86bXI/AAAAAAAAABY/Xnc3C4osZvE/S220/SDC10889.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426615581980803900.post-6579275742371632941</id><published>2009-03-03T21:59:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T22:04:01.948+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a monster...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;E ziua fantomelor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;E ziua sufletului meu. Ma plimb in noapte. Eu sunt un mostru. Sunt cel care si-a parasit corpul de mult. Ochii nu sunt ai mei. Carnea nu e a mea. Sunt o gramada de regrete si mizerii si ma plimb pe o poteca pavata cu sange&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Am incercat de nenumarate ori sa plang dar singurul rezultat au fost lacrimile de sange ale celor pe care ii iubesc. Alerg de nebun in noapte, gonesc prin orasul minunilor. Aud rasete diabolice, tipete indurerate. Aud cum propriul sange clocoteste in mine si arde manechinul ce serveste pe post de corp. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Sunt clovnul principal intr-un circ negru si dramatic, o piesa de teatru destinata solitarului. Candva iubirea domnea in inima mea si zambetul era pe buzele mele. Acum numai e asa... sunt captiv intr-un spatiu ciudat. Faptele nu sunt ale mele, creierul cedeaza, inima pompeaza cu putere, picioarele o iau la fuga. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Vreau sa am putere dar nu pot. Vreau sa daram acest zid de gheata care ma desparte de propriul ego. Alerg, fug, urlu, daram tot ce se afla in jurul meu. Distrug totul. Ajung intr-un luminis. Incerc sa beau apa din lacul ce se creioneaza in fata mea dar observ cum veninul otraveste apa pura si atunci zaresc, sub lumina lunii monstrul ce am devenit. Vad un chip desfigurat care nu e al meu. Vad durere si furie, mintea mea e in molestia, o stare din care nu am cum sa scap. Insomnia e motivul pentru care ma tarasc. Ma asez pe pamantul rece. Noroiul si cu mine suntem frati. Avem aceleasi radacini, acelasi scop de a murdari tot ce atingem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ma ridic si incerc sa imi continui drumul. Intunericul e lumina mea. Ajung intr-un loc. Am mai fost aici. Voci puternice incep sa cante. Pare un vechi descantec menit sa slaveasca frumosul. Da! E imnul iubirii mele de mult uitate. Stiu unde sunt. Aici candva era o biserica. Acum e pustie. E casa aminirilor, e templul unde am jurat iubire si unde am dat viata. Nu a mai ramas nimic din tot ce a fost intr-o zi. Aud un ras malefic si ma intorc speriat. In saptele meu, razele palide ale lunii dezvaluie o femeie batrana. E imbracata in negru si nu are chip. Doar niste pupile albe sugereaza un chip la fel de diform ca al meu. Ea stie de ce sunt aici. Ea imi intelege cautarea... e a generat... ea este prea urata, prea scarboasa, prea mizerabila nefiinta care m-a adus aici. Se joaca cu mintea mea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Fuge, apare, se intoarce, ma ridica si ma coboara cu un singur tipat. Ma doboara. Simt cum clipa finala se apropie. As vrea si acum sa fug... dar e prea tarziu. Am ajuns la capatul  Pamantului... pana aici m-a adus durerea. Si acum cand ultima rasuflare imi strabate trupul as vrea sa mai pot intoarce spatele inca odata. Sa ma uit la probleme ca si cum nu ar fi. Singura problema sunt eu. Mereu a fost asa. Si atunci cand din ura am taiat si spintecat, am infrant si am profanat; chiar si atunci cand am smuls din carnea mea cea mai sfanta legatura cu ea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Batrana nu mai vrea sa se joace. I-a ajuns. Acum o sa imi curme viata... am fost un simplu pion pe tabla ei morbida, pion care acum va fi scos din mijlocul razboiului. Merit asta fiindca am dezertat. Merit asta pentru ca am lasat animalul din mine sa devina monstru si am transformat ploaia de vara din casa mea in cea mai groaznica si nenorocita furtuna. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Arma care ma va frange este propriul spatiu in care am fost captiv. Ma sufoc. Peretii cad peste mine si lovesc. Sangele tasneste formand in jurul meu o balta in care ma zbat ca un peste putrezit pe uscat. Simt cum clipa se apropie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: justify; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Deodata aud o voce. E asa cunoscuta. Spune o rugaciune. Lumina ma inconjoara. Sangele inta in corp, pielea revine si ochii se deschid larg. Am ajuns de unde am plecat. Dar acum vad. Sunt inconjurat de credinta, prietenie si iubire. Am revenit acolo unde cei dragi m-au chemat. Si nu e vis... e dulcea realitate care a fost mereu in jurul meu. Departe aud cel mai groaznic urlet. Undeva, in spatele meu femeia in negru cade secerata. Lovita de ura si sange, o umbra neagra capul i-l frange. Am castigat!&lt;/span&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/3426615581980803900-6579275742371632941?l=postutero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://postutero.blogspot.com/feeds/6579275742371632941/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3426615581980803900&amp;postID=6579275742371632941' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3426615581980803900/posts/default/6579275742371632941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3426615581980803900/posts/default/6579275742371632941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://postutero.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-am-monster.html' title='I am a monster...'/><author><name>alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06321021126785986246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lsOEyanKjx4/ScF8Ye86bXI/AAAAAAAAABY/Xnc3C4osZvE/S220/SDC10889.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
