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Blog korisnika Ella

Laži
Idi na vrh
Jedna od stvari koje ne volim su lazi.
Da li mene lazu ili ja lazem, ne volim i tacka.
A i ja lazem.
Ne stalno, ne mnogo, ali lazem.
Lazem kad moram da zastitim sebe ili druge, precutim istinu kad znam da ce nekome da nanese bol.
Ne znam da li postoji vise vrsta lazi.
Mozda ona svjesna i nesvjesna. Mozda ona planirana i neplanirana.
Interesantno ali koliko mogu da vidim, najmanje lazem u svoju korist. Very Happy
Ili bar ja to tako vidim i shvatam ...

Svi mi imamo svoje neizgovorene istine.
Poenta Ljubavi
Idi na vrh
Ella ::...

Elem ... izgubila ja opkladu pa je "kazna" bila da se registrujem na eHarmony. Very Happy
Ok, obecanje je obecanje - registrujem se ja, trebalo mi nekoliko dana da odgovorim na sva pitanja, profil ... 'vako-'nako .... zavrsim ja to sve, procitam ... pogodilo mi vise nego sto nije i glavni zakljucak ... u citavom svijetu ne postoji osoba koja je stvorena za mene. Very Happy
Oni tamo pokusavaju da te spoje s nekim ko ti je ono kao "stvoren za tebe i ti za njega" e u mom slucaju, takav covjek ne postoji (ili se nije jos prijavio u "grupu"). Very Happy

P.S. Da moja mama zna za ovo - ona bi vjerovatno plakala. Very Happy Mr. Green


* * *

kindergirl ::ma ella choveche nije se chovek registrovao nije znao da si ti "tamo". Smile

* * *

Black Orchid ::@ Ella
promeni sajt Mr. Green
promeni choveka Mr. Green
ma koji ce ti sajt Mr. Green
ma koji ce ti chovek 'stvoren za tebe' Mr. Green
neki nisu ni za zhivot stvoreni, kamoli.. Mr. Green
maaaa...
uzhivaj u zhivotu Cool
Mr. Green


~ ~ ~

Da se ne shvati pogresno Mr. Green ... ja stvarno ne "trazim" takvu ljubav.
Ja ljubav posjedujem, ja sam sposobna da je dajem i primam svaki dan. Ali ... da nije tog ali sve bi bilo ljepse. Very Happy
Ma nije, ok je sve ... neki ljudi nikada nece shvatiti da je sve to samo u nasim glavama. Ja sam sretna zbog sebe. Meni nije potreban "neko" da bi dokazala da sam sposobna da volim i da mi od toga (ne daj Boze) zavisi sreca. Ako se desi - desilo se, ako ne ... u stvari ne moze da se ne desi. Ljubav je svaki novi dan, drugacija vrsta ljubavi - ali je moja. Prema zivotu.
A usotalom, naslusala sam se onoga "Ja tebe volim, Ti meni znacis sve, Nedostajes mi, Ljubavi moja, Sunce moje, Sreco moja, itd., itd." da bi se ispostavilo da osoba koja je tvrdila ljubav uopste nije u stanju da voli. Za ljubav je potrebna inteligencija. Ljubav nije samo osjecanje. Ona je nacin tretiranja drugih ljudi. Vise ljubavi osjetim od svog radnog kolege koji mi je priznao (nakon 8 mjeseci) da sam mu na pocetku djelovala intimidating ( Mr. Green ) ali me postuje i cjeni kao osobu. Ne mora on mene da voli "romanticno" ali me voli na neki drugi nacin, kao i ja njega. I eto meni ljubavi. A da ne pricam o ostalim ljudima i zivotinjama u svom zivotu koji me takodje vole. smešak
I ko god da je prvi zapisao da je ljubav slijepa, nije u pravu. Ljubav otvara oci. Imam svoju novu parolu: "Zaljubljenost je ta koja je slijepa, ne ljubav." i koja je istinita toliko da je se pogresno shvatila. Mr. Green

Ne da je ikoga briga kako ce da se shvati neki moj post, ali eto - kao sto vidite imam slobodnog vremena pa nemam sto pametnije da radim. smešak
Mirisno Sjecanje
Idi na vrh
Jedan davno kupljen parfem,
ciji se miris uvukao u najdublje celije mozga
i tu ostao
da me podsjeti svaki put
kad vjetar nanese
miris mokre zemlje,
pokosene trave
proljetne kise
ili
suncem osusene posteljine.


Parfum Vanille

~ ~ ~

Miris vrucine ...
I uporno pokusavam
Da se otrgnem
Prvom instinktu.


Is This Real?
Osjecanja
Idi na vrh
~ ~ ~

Covjek se zapita ...
Svi znamo da su muskarci od davnina trenirani da budu "jaki" - emotivno i fizicki. Kako bi bio u stanju da odbrani svoje selo ako je mekusac i bude mu zao da ucini onaj korak kojeg se mnogi od nas zgrazavaju. Ali sto se mora mora se. Vremena su se malo promjenila. Ili - da li su?
Koliko puta ste culi da neko za nekoga kaze da je "mekusac"?
Da li ste imali priliku da cujete kako jedan sovinista govori za jednog umjetnika kako je "zenskonja" jer je u stanju da izrazi svoja osjecanja kroz muziku, slikanje ili pisanje.
Da li ste ikada vidjeli muskarca kako place?
Kako ste se osjecale tada?
U zavisnosti ko je muskarac koji je pokazao dragocjenu tecnost u vasem prisustvu, osjecanja sa vase strane su vjerovatno bila dosljedna sa "ulogom" koja vam je dodjeljena u tom trenutku.
Ja sam imala priliku da vidim nekoliko muskaraca u svom zivotu da placu. Prvi put sam se sokirala jer je to bio moj otac. (tad mu je umrla majka)
Od tada znam, da su i muskarci samo ljudska bica sa malo snaznijim rukama, vecim misicima, kompleksnijim egom ( smešak ), vecom kolicinom tostesterona, ali i oni isto tako imaju organ srce, koji se tako tijesno vezuje sa osjecanjima (kontam jer je sakriven u grudni kos Very Happy ).
Malo koji muskarac moze sebi da priusti suze, i tada - ako se i odluci da pusti koju - mora da pazi pred kim, kako i gdje to radi.

P.S. Kao sto rekoh, imala sam prilika - ali je jedan slucaj ostavio mentalnu notu u mom sjecanju. Naime, doticni je plakao jer mu je fudbalski tim izgubio utakmicu. Shocked

Prijatan dan! smešak
Sjecanja
Idi na vrh
Moja baba

Moja baba je "starija" zena. Rodjena 1921 (?) ni sama nije imala zivot iz bajke. Zivot joj je bio tezak. To je jedina baba koje se ja sjecam. Jedina u krvnom srodstvu. Rodila je dvanaestero djece, od kojih je prezivjelo osam. Moja mama je najstarije zensko dijete. Dok sam ja dosla na ovaj svijet moj deda je vec presao na siroke livade vjecnih lovista, tako da nemam ni sjecanje na njega, osim par pozutjelih slika i kratkih anegdota. U svakom slucaju moja baba mene nije voljela. Kako znam? Pa i ne znam sa sigurnoscu ali jos kao dijete sam osjecala razlicitost tretiranja prema meni i ostalim rodjacima. Nikad mi nije pricala bajke, nikad me nije stavila u krilo, nikad me nije pocesljala ili splela pletenice. Ili recimo, moj rodjak bi dobio snjitu hljeba namazanu eurokremom a ja domacim pekmezom od sljiva ... ili on dobije marcipan a ja buhtlu. Za Bozic, moji rodjaci bi dobili poklone a ja nista. Mozda zato sto je "moj" Bozic bio proslavljan drugim danom (?). Moja baba meni nikada nije isplela priglavke, sal ili dzemper (zato sam ja naucila kako da pletem). Moja baba meni nikada nije izvezla goblen ili isheklala stoljnjak (zato sam ja naucila kako da vezem i heklam). Jedino sto je meni moja baba dala je par sati finog razgovora prosle godine. Vidjela me je nakon dugo-dugo vremena i ja sam sada bila zena sa svojom djecom. Sjele smo, popile kafu i ispricale se onoliko koliko to mogu baba i unuka koje nikada nisu imale nesto mnogo zajednickog. Pitala me je kako zivot? Odgovorila sam joj onako kako se moze i zna. Nasmijala se i rekla da je njen zivot proletio i da se i sama nekad pita gdje su otisle sve godine. Ja sam joj rekla da ja znam nesto sto ona nije znala (i to sam joj rekla sa velikim osmjehom na licu). A sta je to? (nije mogla da ne pita). Pa rekla sam joj da je eto meni toliko mladjoj zivot do nekih tih mojih tadasnjih godina protekao nekad brzo a nekad sporo. Onda sam se ja zapitala u cemu je razlika kada dan traje 24 sata, bez obzira da li sam ja u Bosni ili u Americi. I onda sam otkrila nesto ocigledno. Kao dijete dan mi je trajao kao cijela godina, kao odrasloj zeni dan mi je prolazio kroz ruke a da nisam mogla ni da ga okusim. Zasto? Zato sto djeca uzivaju u danu, u svemu sto cine u tom jednom danu, u svakom trenutku koji se automatski produzi zato sto mu se posvecuje toliko paznje. Nista i niko ne voli da je ignorisan pa tako ni vrijeme.
Tek onda sam shvatila vrijednost vremena. Tajna je predati se tom necemu. Posvetiti svaki atom paznje, tada vrijeme uspori - skoro stane. I tada sam ja gospodar vremena. Tako sam joj objasnila da ako posveti paznju onim zrncima kukuruza dok hrani kokoske, da ce joj samo jutro produziti kao citav dan a sam za najmanje dva dana. Nasmija se moja baba.

---

Mama me zove da mi kaze da me je baba pozdravila.
Kaze da sam, ako nista, otkrila "novo vrijeme".
Pita me mama sta to meni baba porucuje a ja se samo smijem i kazem joj da ona vec zna tu tajnu, jer ju je otkrila jos kad je bila dijete.

---

Moja baba je i nakon svega moj prijatelj. Da je meni moja baba plela salove i kape, ja sada ne bih znala da naucim svoju djecu kako da pletu. Moja baba je svjesno ili nesvjesno meni ucinila vise usluga ovako kako je bilo, nego da je bilo onako kako sam ja prizeljkivala kad sam bila dijete.

---

I da, jos jedna stvar o mojoj babi. Da je moja baba ona baka iz Crvenkapice, vuk bi se lose proveo.
100%
Idi na vrh
On Seeing The 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning
(by Haruki Murakami)


One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street in Tokyo's fashionable Harajuku neighborhood, I walk past the 100% perfect girl.

Tell you the truth, she's not that good-looking. She doesn't stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn't young, either - must be near thirty, not even close to a "girl," properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She's the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there's a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is dry as a desert.

Maybe you have your own favorite type of girl - one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you're drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I'll catch myself staring at the girl at the table next to mine because I like the shape of her nose.

But no on can insist that his 100% perfect girl correspond to some preconceived type. Much as I like noses, I can't recall the shape of hers - or even if she had one. All I can remember for sure is that she was no great beauty. It's weird.

"Yesterday on the street I passed the 100% perfect girl," I tell someone.

"Yeah?" he says. "Good-looking?"

"Not really."

"Your favorite type, then?"

"I don't know. I can't seem to recall anything about her - the shape of her eyes or the size of her breasts."

"Strange."

"Yeah. Strange."

"So anyhow," he says, already bored, "what did you do? Talk to her? Follow her?"

"Nah. Just passed her on the street."

She's walking east to west, and I west to east. It's a really nice April morning.

Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and - what I'd really like to do - explain to her the complexities of fate that have led to our passing each other on a side street in Harajuku on a beautiful April morning in 1981. This was something sure to crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock built when peace filled the world.

After talking, we'd have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woodie Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for cocktails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed.

Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart.

Now the distance between us has narrowed to fifteen yards.
How can I approach her? What should I say?

"Good morning, miss. Do you think you could spare half an hour for a little conversation?"

Ridiculous. I'd sound like an insurance salesman.

"Pardon me, but would you happen to know if there is an all-night cleaners in the neighborhood?"

No, this is just as ridiculous. I'm not carrying any laundry, for one thing. Who's going to buy a line like that?

Maybe the simple truth would do. "Good morning. You are the 100% perfect girl for me."

No, she wouldn't believe it. Or even if she did, she might not want to talk to me. Sorry, she could say, I might be the 100% perfect girl for you, but you're not the 100% perfect boy for me. It could happen. And if I found myself in that situation, I'd probably go to pieces. I'd never recover from the shock. I'm thirty-two, and that's what growing older is all about.

We pass in front of a flower shop. A small, warm air mass touches my skin. The asphalt is damp, and I catch the scent of roses. I can't bring myself to speak to her. She wears a white sweater, and in her right hand she holds a crisp white envelope lacking only a stamp. So: She's written somebody a letter, maybe spent the whole night writing, to judge from the sleepy look in her eyes. The envelope could contain every secret she's ever had.
I take a few more strides and turn: She's lost in the crowd.
Now, of course, I know exactly what I should have said to her. It would have been a long speech, though, far too long for me to have delivered it properly. The ideas I come up with are never very practical.

Oh well. It would have started "Once upon a time" and ended "A sad story, don't you think?"

Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was eighteen and the girl sixteen. He was not unusually handsome, and she not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened.

One day, the two came upon each other on the corner of a street.

"This is amazing," he said. "I've been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you are the 100% perfect girl for me."

"And you," she said to him, "are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I'd pictured you in every detail. It's like a dream."

They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle, a cosmic miracle.

As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of a doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one's dreams to come true so easily?

And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, "Let's test ourselves - just once. If we really are each other's 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we'll marry then and there. What do you think?"

"Yes," she said, "that is exactly what we should do."

And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west.

The test they had agreed on, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should have never undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other's 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully.

One winter, both the boy and the girl came down with the season's terrible influenza, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. Their heads were as empty as the young D. H. Lawrence's piggy bank.
They were two bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society. Heaven be praised, they became truly upstanding citizens who knew how to transfer from one subway line to another, who were fully capable of sending a special-delivery letter at the post office. Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 75% or even 85% love.

Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was thirty-two, the girl thirty.

One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking east to west, both along the same narrow street in the Harujuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in the chest. And they knew:

She is the 100% perfect girl for me.

He is the 100% perfect boy for me.

But the glow of their lost memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fourteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.

A sad story, don't you think?

Yes, that's it, that is what I should have said to her.


7
Idi na vrh
"One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
And four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told".


Dorothy Squires

~ ~ ~

Number Seven

~ ~ ~

Seven Dwarfs

~ ~ ~

Seven Wise Men

~ ~ ~

Seven Days of the Week

~ ~ ~

Seven Planets

~ ~ ~

Seven Lucky Gods

~ ~ ~

Seven for all

~ ~ ~

-
Idi na vrh
Stupid job. It so late by the time I get out. I could spend that time in the park, chasing birds and trying to catch squirrels.
What was the name of that song I've heard on the radio this morning?I have to stop and get some bread. Oh, shoot ... I forgot to pick up my suit from dry cleaner. I wonder how is my mom. I haven't call her in two days. What will I be cooking for diner? hmm ... did I return that book to the library? What was it about? Seriously, I have some memory issues. And J is looking for another part-time job. Lucky her, she will be going on vacation next winter. I wonder how is D doing with her new baby. I should probably call her and see if she needs me for baby sitting. And that profit and loss report just got on my last nerve. It will have to wait until tomorrow. I don't want to think about it now. I could stop and rent us a movie. M would like that. She didn't talk to me about J in a long time. Maybe I should check and see what are the feelings on that subject now. Or maybe not ... she knows she can talk to me if she needs to. Poor M (another M)... where she will find another job with that kind of hours that she has now. I'm glad I called her. It was just the right time, coz she felt better after she was done and I (again) felt sad. I wish I could help people that I care about. I wish I could help hungry children in Africa too. I should buy me that cabin I was looking at. It is really remote. And lake is close. I would be alone ... far away from civilization. My kind of living. I remember ... tomorrow I have to remind myself and go get those shoes. Oh, there are so cute. That will make me zesty for a moment.
What was the branch number ... 2907 or 2709 ... or was it 20 something. Low volume, low revenue, high expenses ... not good for business. What can I do? Anyway, report will be ready for meeting . Where did I leave my cigarettes? I should look for my white sweater in M closet. It wouldn't be first time that she "borrows" something mine. And shoes ... I have to have them. And before everyone else. I hope that they only have like two pairs. One in my size and another one 3 sizes smaller. I'm mean ... I know ... D (another D) is coming over Saturday. I have to do that thing for him. It is a lot of money, but we will split in couple of payments. Was that my street that I just passed? Oh, my phone is ringing ... Hi baby, where are you? ...

I can’t believe I’m admitting my insanity ...

I just need vacation. Everlasting.
Mr. Green smešak :uhhh:
Zen
Idi na vrh


"Drop all burdens.
The higher you want to reach,
the less burdened you must be."
- Osho(?)

"When love and hate are both absent, everything becomes clear and undisguised." - Sosan
Ljubav vs. nauka
Idi na vrh
Tajanstvena sifra ljubavi

Ljubav ima moc nad covekom, a ne covek nad njom. U trenutku kada Vas pogodi Amorova strelica desava se citav hemijski proces u organizmu, manifestuju se promene u stanju svesti i Vase reakcije ili ponasanje pocinju bitno da se menjaju. Okolina narocito primecuje to "cudno" ponasanje jer niko nije slep i imun na ljubav. A da li je ljubav slepa, ili onaj ko voli gubi glavu i pamet, to je vrlo diskutabilno. Uostalom, ljubav je i najlepsi ili bozanski dar, velicanstveno nadahnuce i najjaca moc. Dakle, ljubav upravlja covekom, a covek jos uvek nema definiciju, kontrolu ili moc nad njom.

Tim britanskih naucnika, polazi od pretpostavke da se ljubav moze strogo definisati i izmeriti. Na Univerzitetskom koledzu u Londonu pomenuti naucnici su sproveli istrazivanje sa ciljem da jasno vide zone u mozgu koje se aktiviraju prilikom zaljubljivanja. Odabrali su jedanaest zena i sest muskaraca, veoma zaljubljenih, i "zavirili" u njihov mozak pomocu nuklearne magnetne rezonance. Eksperiment se obavljao u dve faze. U prvoj fazi, ispitanicima su pokazivali fotografiju ljubavnog partnera, a u drugoj fazi fotografiju neke bliske i omiljene osobe suprotnog pola.

Inace, naucnici vec izvesno vreme pokusavaju da otkriju kakve sve reakcije u mozgu izazivaju razlicita osecanja. "Do sada smo se uglavnom ogranicavali na negativna osecanja, kao sto je npr. osecanje straha. Medjutim, bili smo impresionirani kada smo otkrili koliko je jedno tako kompleksno osecanje, kao sto je ljubav, jasno i vidljivo", izjavio je Andreas Bartels, rukovodilac istrazivackog tima. Istrazivanje je pokazalo da se u mozgu ucesnika eksperimenta, u trenutku kada bi pred sobom imali fotografiju voljenog bica, aktiviraju zone zaduzene za pozitivne emocije.

Svaka od tih zona ima svoju specificnu funkciju, npr. jedna od njih se aktivira kada osoba osvaja nagradne poene (video igre, lutrija, tombola, kocka, takmicenje). "Zaljubljivanje je u izvesnom smislu, kao kada dobijate glavnu premiju u igri koja se zove zivot", duhovito komentarise Bartels. Zanimljivo je da prilikom zaljubljivanja vaznu funkciju ima i deo mozga odgovoran za euforicno raspolozenje - tu zonu, stimulise i kokain. Logicno je pitanje, da li onda ljubav deluje i kao droga? Delimicno da, ali ipak je efekat drugaciji. Konzumiranje kokaina stimulise citavu zonu i izaziva kratkotrajnu euforiju, dok je efekat "ljubavnog groma" vezan za specificni deo te zone i traje mnogo duze. Karakteristicno je i to da su kod ucesnika eksperimenta neke zone u mozgu (npr. one koje dovode do depresivnog raspolozenja, ili one zaduzene za pamcenje i misljenje) bile u stanju potpunog mirovanja.

Dakle, ljubav je definitivno najbolji lek za depresiju, sto se vec odavno potvrduje kao tacno. Interesantan nacin razmisljanja se ilustruje i jednim neobicnim pitanjem: da li cemo u blizoj buducnosti imati na raspolaganju "detektor za osecanja"? Da li naucnici mogu da usavrse adekvatan i precizan test za ispitivanje "stepena zaljubljenosti"? Osim sto bi nam pruzao uvid i "meriv dokaz" o stepenu ljubavi, ovaj instrument bi preventivno delovao u prepoznavanju onih koji "glume zaljubljenost" i na takav nacin pruzio pomoc svima koji zele da "zastite" svoja osecanja. Bartels i tim naucnika veruju da ce se vrlo uskoro takav instrument - test, naci u slobodnoj prodaji. Ipak, ostaje jedno nerazreseno pitanje: koliko je covek naivan u svojim "velikim" mislima, verujuci u to da moze da kontrolise i desifruje ljubav?

Sa http://www.astrolook.com/magazin/doc/13.shtml

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