<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Wed, 18 Nov 2009 10:08:42 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Шашавините на Ани</title><description>Ако обичаш някого, кажи му го, защото докато се решиш да го направиш, може да стане късно.</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-8391324317403661855</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Dec 2007 07:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-12-18T10:07:11.329+02:00</atom:updated><title>Искам да изкрещя</title><description>&lt;center&gt;Deep Purple - Sometimes I feel like screaming &lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/h7xF51AFkys&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/h7xF51AFkys&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Обърква ме лицемерието на хората. Злобичка. Дребнава точно колкото дребнави са душевните им терзания.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;До колко си човек всъщност те определя способността ти да си съпричастен на околните. Егоцентризъм. "Аз съм центъра на Вселената. Моето мнение е изконно и крайно, окончателно. Ти не си прав!" Да, може би не съм права, но спрямо кого, спрямо кое? Кой в моя свят определя кое е вярно и кое не? А още повече кой е отправния критерий за правота?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Добрината. Какво е "добрина"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Да, правим грешки. Постоянно грешим - спрямо себе си и околните. Но, отговаряйки си на въпроса "защо", разбираме кое и какво е предизвикало такова поведение. А дали си отговаряме правилно? А дали отсрещния не е имал нещо съвсем друго предвид?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Пуша, мисля си и все повече се обърквам. Вчера дъщеря ми каза: "Мамо, защо винаги трябва ти да си виновна? Понякога и другите хора имат вина!". (Боричкахме се с приятеля ми и си ударих жестоко палеца. Болеше ме много. Той се притесни, но наистина "вината" си беше моя.) Колко мъничка е моята дъщеричка, а на колко много неща ме учи.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Всъщност какво точно означава "вина"? Мързи ме да търся определението на думата. Асоциативно се сещам за друга случка - Антония ми разказва един ден със сълзи на очи как си играла с някакво гущерче. Само го милвала, нищо повече, ама то взело, че умряло. И тя плачеше. Плачеше, не защото гущерчето умряло, а защото щяла да иде в Ада. Е, точно това е Лошо!!! Мисля че Ада като понятие е най-ужасната лошотия на човечеството. Защото не обяснява нищо, а държи в Страх. Ето го и лицемерието - не ми пука за гущерчето, а ме е страх за мене си.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Раздробени на мънички частички, мислите ми се ръчкат.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Време е да си ходя. Днес той няма да дойде. Днес няма да се гушкаме. Трябва да издържа. А съм толкова щастлива в прегръдката му. Сякаш най-сетне съм си У Дома...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-8391324317403661855?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/12/blog-post.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-2694838276498484358</guid><pubDate>Thu, 04 Oct 2007 16:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-12-18T09:32:45.513+02:00</atom:updated><title>Only You...</title><description>&lt;center&gt;Yazoo - Only You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/u_0IKmq75UQ"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/u_0IKmq75UQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Снощи ходих край морето. Седнах на плажа, пуснах си Massive Attack и усилих слушалките, гледах звездите, гледах вълните и... И мечтах, защото дори и аз имам право да съм щастлива. Поне в мечтите си!&lt;br /&gt;После като си тръгнах, вървейки боса по алеята край плажа, зърнах едно бръмбърче, пълзящо по пътя си. Аз мръднах крачка встрани, за да не го смажа. И осъзнах, че постоянно това правя, въпреки че имам физическата (и не само) възмозност да го смажа.  Да смажа всики малки бръмбърчета, които ми се изпречват постоянно на пътя. Но защо да го правя? Нали всички имаме право да сме на тази Земя. И трябва да мислим един за друг. И да не се нараняваме. Да, отклоних се крачка от пътя си, но бръмбърчето е живо. Не ме настъпвайте, моля ви. Боли, ужасно боли. И понеже съм дете, отвръщам злобно и без да помисля. Наранявайки най-вече себе си.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Трябва ли да порасна? А защо?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-2694838276498484358?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/10/yazoo-only-you.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-8001235717555562085</guid><pubDate>Thu, 31 May 2007 23:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-01T05:11:39.522+03:00</atom:updated><title>Накъде</title><description>&lt;center&gt;I Santo California - Tornero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ULMtbisYdCQ"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ULMtbisYdCQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Затварям си очите сега. Затварям ги, защото трябва да избягам. За кой ли път! А накъде? И докога?...&lt;br /&gt;А всъщност не бягам от теб. Бягам от себе си. Бягам от страха, който е вътре в мен. Бягам от Миналото, което е пуснало дълбоки корени в Бъдещето...&lt;br /&gt;Бягам Сега. За да се върна там, в Бъдещето. С ръце, разперени за теб. С душа, тръпнеща в очакване.&lt;br /&gt;Докога? И накъде? Към безкрайността. За да срещна себе си. За да съм готова за теб.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-8001235717555562085?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/06/blog-post.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-3993673708104756694</guid><pubDate>Tue, 29 May 2007 23:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-01T04:38:15.551+03:00</atom:updated><title>Где-то на белом свете</title><description>&lt;center&gt;"Песенка о медведе" от филма" Кавказская пленница"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YQj8vqNHOQc"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YQj8vqNHOQc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Где-то на белом свете&lt;br /&gt;Там где всегда мороз&lt;br /&gt;Трутся спиной медведи&lt;br /&gt;О земную ось&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Мимо плывут столетья&lt;br /&gt;Спят подо льдом моря&lt;br /&gt;Трутся об ось медведи&lt;br /&gt;Вертится земля&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ля ля ля ля ля ля ля&lt;br /&gt;Вертится быстрей земля&lt;br /&gt;Ля ля ля ля ля ля ля&lt;br /&gt;Вертится быстрей земля&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Трутся они стараясь&lt;br /&gt;Вертят земную ось&lt;br /&gt;Чтобы влюблённым раньше&lt;br /&gt;Встретиться пришлось&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Чтобы однажды утром&lt;br /&gt;Раньше на год иль два&lt;br /&gt;Кто-то сказал кому-то&lt;br /&gt;Главные слова&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ля ля ля ля ля ля ля&lt;br /&gt;Главные сказал слова&lt;br /&gt;Ля ля ля ля ля ля ля&lt;br /&gt;Главные сказал слова&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Вслед за весенним ливнем&lt;br /&gt;Раньше прийдёт рассвет&lt;br /&gt;И для двоих счастливых&lt;br /&gt;Много - много лет&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Будут сверкать зарницы&lt;br /&gt;Будут ручьи звенеть&lt;br /&gt;Будет туман клубиться&lt;br /&gt;Белый как медведь&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ля ля ля ля ля ля ля&lt;br /&gt;Вертится быстрей земля&lt;br /&gt;Ля ля ля ля ля ля ля&lt;br /&gt;Вертится земля&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Где-то на белом свете&lt;br /&gt;Там где всегда мороз&lt;br /&gt;Трутся спиной медведи&lt;br /&gt;О земную ось&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Мимо плывут столетья&lt;br /&gt;Спят подо льдом моря&lt;br /&gt;Трутся об ось медведи&lt;br /&gt;Вертится земля&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ля ля ля ля ля ля ля&lt;br /&gt;Вертится быстрей земля&lt;br /&gt;Ля ля ля ля ля ля ля&lt;br /&gt;Вертится быстрей земля&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-3993673708104756694?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/05/blog-post_30.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-6586265857133272775</guid><pubDate>Wed, 09 May 2007 09:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-01T04:44:30.810+03:00</atom:updated><title>И пак...</title><description>Do you pull me up just to push me down again?...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Благодаря. За това, че давах. А ти взимаше. За това, че повярвах. А ти не мислеше.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ти ставаш отговорен завинаги за това, което си опитомил.", каза Лисицата на Малкия принц.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Janis Joplin - Piece of my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MjxFu_NXET4"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MjxFu_NXET4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't I make you feel like you were the only man, well yeah,&lt;br /&gt;An' didn't I give you nearly everything that a woman possibly can?&lt;br /&gt;Honey, you know I did!&lt;br /&gt;And each time I tell myself that I, well I think I've had enough,&lt;br /&gt;But I'm gonna show you, baby, that a woman can be tough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to come on, come on, come on, come on and take it,&lt;br /&gt;Take another little piece of my heart now, baby, (break a..)&lt;br /&gt;Break another little bit of my heart now, darling, yeah. (have a..)&lt;br /&gt;Hey! Have another little piece of my heart now, baby, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;You know you got it if it makes you feel good,&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're out on the streets looking good, and baby,&lt;br /&gt;Deep down in your heart I guess you know that it ain't right,&lt;br /&gt;Never never never never never never never hear me when I cry at night.&lt;br /&gt;Baby, I cry all the time!&lt;br /&gt;And each time I tell myself that I, well I can't stand the pain,&lt;br /&gt;But when you hold me in your arms, I'll sing it once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll say come on, come on, come on, come on, yeah take it!&lt;br /&gt;Take another little piece of my heart now, baby. (break a..)&lt;br /&gt;Break another little bit of my heart now, darling, yeah, (come on…)&lt;br /&gt;Have another little piece of my heart now, baby, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Well, You know you got it, child, if it makes you feel good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need you to come on, come on, come on, come on and take it,&lt;br /&gt;Take another little piece of my heart now, baby. (break a…)&lt;br /&gt;Break another little bit of my heart, darling, yeah. (have a)&lt;br /&gt;Have another little piece of my heart now, baby,&lt;br /&gt;You know you got it (waaaaahhh)&lt;br /&gt;Take a…Take another little piece of my heart now, baby. (break a…)&lt;br /&gt;Break another little bit of my heart, and darling, yeah yeah (have a)&lt;br /&gt;Have another little piece of my heart now, baby,&lt;br /&gt;You know you got it, child, if it makes you feel good&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-6586265857133272775?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/05/blog-post_09.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-8362393917131840946</guid><pubDate>Sun, 06 May 2007 21:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-07T01:12:15.281+03:00</atom:updated><title>Тест в картинки</title><description>&lt;div align=center&gt;&lt;embed allowScriptAccess="never" allowNetworking="internal"  enableJavaScript="false" src="http://dna.imagini.net/friends/swf/widget.swf"  quality="best" bgcolor="#000000" width="340"  height="240" name="widget" align="middle" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"  pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"  flashvars="bgcolor=#000000&amp;i1=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-78BCAFD1.jpeg&amp;c1=despite&amp;i2=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_57540F5B.jpeg&amp;c2=sing&amp;i3=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-48809F1F.jpeg&amp;c3=think&amp;i4=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_57EDBD35.jpeg&amp;c4=breathe&amp;i5=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-3A0F44BD.jpeg&amp;c5=why&amp;i6=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-3AC7E3DE.jpeg&amp;c6=be alive&amp;i7=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-6514DF33.jpeg&amp;c7=vindication&amp;i8=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-54780884.jpeg&amp;c8=mildness&amp;i9=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_631B702E.jpeg&amp;c9=tranquility&amp;i10=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_2F50C3FA.jpeg&amp;c10=warmth&amp;i11=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_0C612E3D.jpeg&amp;c11=freedom&amp;i12=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-31AF758B.jpeg&amp;c12=titillate&amp;i13=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_4F9C0EDC.jpeg&amp;c13=fly&amp;moodlabel=EASY RIDER &amp;lovelabel=LOVE BUG&amp;funlabel=ESCAPE ARTIST&amp;habitslabel=HIGH TIME ROLLER&amp;uid=303113-264d&amp;srv=iwebhd5" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;div style="text-align:center; width:340px;height:25px;margin-top:0px; border-top:1px solid rgb(150,150,150);background-color:rgb(0,0,0);padding:5px 0 0 0; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://networking.imagini.blueorange.co.uk/vdna.php?uid=303113-264d&amp;srv=iwebhd5" style="color:rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;Read my VisualDNA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10px;color:#cccccc"&gt;&amp;trade;&lt;/span&gt;     &lt;a href="http://imagini.net/friends/" style="color:rgb(255,255,255) "&gt;Get your own VisualDNA&amp;trade;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-8362393917131840946?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/05/blog-post.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-5247808009320666096</guid><pubDate>Sat, 21 Apr 2007 18:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-24T13:27:51.151+03:00</atom:updated><title>Un monde parfait!</title><description>Благодаря ти, Тоничка, мое усмихнато детенце! За танците, за песните и за смеха. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ilona Mitrecey - Un Monde Parfait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/c69PQp-GO2w"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/c69PQp-GO2w" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ilona Mitrecey - C'Est Les Vacances&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BAUTHN0s1uU"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BAUTHN0s1uU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ilona Mitrecey - Laissez Nous Respirer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xNmV0psG4fA"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xNmV0psG4fA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ilona Mitrecey - Dans Ma Fusee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_8OtEwu7Ar8"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_8OtEwu7Ar8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ilona Mitrecey - Allo Allo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Im_YSe_mbvo"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Im_YSe_mbvo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ilona Mitrecey - Noël, Que Du Bonheur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/V7BezZXYEJU"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/V7BezZXYEJU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ilona Mitrecey - Chiquitas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nsYaIazRI40"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nsYaIazRI40" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-5247808009320666096?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/04/ilona-mitrecey.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-6704519857218500624</guid><pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2007 20:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-16T23:57:24.404+03:00</atom:updated><title>В кръговрата на Живота</title><description>Преди 10 месеца аз се гмурнах в едно вирче. Но се оказа дълбоко. И се оказа блато. И затъвах, затъвах... Докато един ден преди 2 месеца напипах с крак дъното. Бях изтощена, нямах повече въздух. Настъпи времето за решения - дали да се оставя на летаргията там на дъното, или да се оттласна и нищо, че съм без въздух в изтощените дробчета, да се опитам да изляза...&lt;br /&gt;Вече водата над мен е по-светла, сякаш виждам края. &lt;br /&gt;Знам, че силите ми ще стигнат, за да изляза. Знам, защото го усещам. Ще изляза, ще си се попека на слънце, доволно легнала на някоя полянка. Спокойна. После ще се разходя из гората, ще си попея с птичките, ще си побъбря с животинките, ще се насладя на повея на вятъра, ще вдъхна мириса на горските цветчета. Докато, някой ден, не видя някое друго примамливо вирче. И не реша в него да се освежа и да поплувам... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;В кръговрата на Живота. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-6704519857218500624?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-8240598357748316657</guid><pubDate>Fri, 23 Feb 2007 02:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-23T04:21:50.466+02:00</atom:updated><title>Бръмбърчета</title><description>Имам бръмбари в главата, ужас! И проблема не е, че ми пречат - не. На мен ама изобщо не ми пречат. Но околните постоянно се оплакват. Пречело им жуженето.&lt;br /&gt;Не искам моите бръмбърчета да си ходят. Обичкам си ги. Бръмчат ми, правят ми компанийка. Като ми пърхат из главата и ми сгряват ушите. А и през прозрачните им крила сякаш виждам света в други цветове, доста по-интересни от обикновените.&lt;br /&gt;В последно време обаче линеят. Когато някой започне да ми крещи да спра с това жужене и бръмбърчетата ми изведнъж утихват, свиват се и сякаш се разболяват. Тогава аз започвам мило да им говоря, захранвам ги с топличка супичка от мечти (много я обичат, ама на фидето се цупят) и им правя компреси с любов.&lt;br /&gt;Не искам да живея сама, но си обичам бръбърчетата!&lt;br /&gt;Май остарявам...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-8240598357748316657?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/02/blog-post_23.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-8302466264443993121</guid><pubDate>Sun, 18 Feb 2007 00:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-09T15:08:36.652+02:00</atom:updated><title>Безплатни прегръдки</title><description>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bgflash.com/details.php?image_id=821" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUPoKk6zpWY/RdedH2lXxNI/AAAAAAAAABs/8JC2tCOeORQ/s320/free_hug.gif" border="0" alt="Click on me!" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032663866846725330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://bgflash.com/details.php?image_id=821"&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt;Free hug&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Спонтанната човещинка. Нежност. Топлина. Доброта. Уюта на сигурността, че не си сам.&lt;br /&gt;Толкова малко енергия се иска за една прегръдка, за една усмивка, за една добра дума. Колко повече енергия коства всеки скандал. Кое ни превърна в такива сеирджии? Страхът, неувереността, които са плод именно от липсата на една искрена прегръдка...&lt;br /&gt;Усмихвайте се, прегръщайте се, обичайте се! Живота и без това е толкова...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-8302466264443993121?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/02/blog-post_18.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUPoKk6zpWY/RdedH2lXxNI/AAAAAAAAABs/8JC2tCOeORQ/s72-c/free_hug.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-3917899754966961220</guid><pubDate>Sun, 11 Feb 2007 14:54:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-09T21:46:36.414+03:00</atom:updated><title>Майка</title><description>Sade - King of sorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uKbfpU2pmHk"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uKbfpU2pmHk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-3917899754966961220?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/02/blog-post_11.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-987754504855116694</guid><pubDate>Tue, 06 Feb 2007 01:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-09T15:08:37.027+02:00</atom:updated><title>Усмивка!</title><description>Happy birthday, Abie baby,&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday to you&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday, Abie baby,&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday to you&lt;br /&gt;Bang!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Най-голямото щастие е увереността, че някой те обича. Честит ми 34-ти рожден ден! О, колко съм усмихната...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUPoKk6zpWY/Rcki5jBFDII/AAAAAAAAABY/nPhoRHPq5Ug/s1600-h/birthday+cake+02_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUPoKk6zpWY/Rcki5jBFDII/AAAAAAAAABY/nPhoRHPq5Ug/s200/birthday+cake+02_1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028588830983523458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Тра-ла-ла, тра-ла-ла, &lt;br /&gt;на рожден ден ела!&lt;br /&gt;Ще ядем, ще ядем&lt;br /&gt;вкусна торта със крем.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-987754504855116694?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/02/blog-post.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUPoKk6zpWY/Rcki5jBFDII/AAAAAAAAABY/nPhoRHPq5Ug/s72-c/birthday+cake+02_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-321501262586036286</guid><pubDate>Wed, 24 Jan 2007 03:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-02T02:50:54.520+02:00</atom:updated><title>Имам си тигърче!!!</title><description>&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="250"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://petswf.bunnyherolabs.com/adopt/swf/tiger" width="250" height="300" quality="high" bgcolor="ffffff" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" flashvars="cn=kayah&amp;an=anyta&amp;clr=0xfea526" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-321501262586036286?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2007/01/blog-post.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114531664915865958</guid><pubDate>Mon, 17 Apr 2006 22:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-20T07:39:55.357+02:00</atom:updated><title>Дайте ми фенер!</title><description>Просто... Това е. Не мога, не искам, няма смисъл от коментар.&lt;br /&gt;Когато не искаш да бъдеш наранен е много по-лесно да се затвориш в черупката си. Свит, самотен... Но защитен! Защитен от кое? От разочарованието. От разбитите надежди. От сгромолясали се очаквания.&lt;br /&gt;Писна ми от шамари. Не искам да удрям и аз. Не искам да ставам като вас!&lt;br /&gt;Било хубаво да си влюбен... Да, бе, да! Ставам прекалено мила, нежна, чувствителна... И най-вече незащитена. И боли.&lt;br /&gt;Какво става със света? Защо всичко наоколо е тъжно? И синьо... Всеки се е скрил зад стените на крепостта си и мълчи. Никой никого не обича. Даже никой вече и не мисли за значението на думичката обич. Всеки се муси, всеки е обиден, наранен, страда.&lt;br /&gt;"За да получиш обич, трябва да се научиш да обичаш" бях прочела някъде. Нямаме право да искаме без да дадем. Равновесие. На никого не му пука...&lt;br /&gt;Студено ми е. Разкъсах дрехите, с които бях топличко увила душата си и сега се скитам гола. И ми е студено.&lt;br /&gt;Дайте ми фенер!&lt;br /&gt;Защото Цaрят е гол. И от мънички ни учат, че трябва да му се смеем. А какво смешно има в голотата? И защо трябва да ни е срам от голотата? Страх от подигравки, страх от обиди, страх... Поуката - open your mind!&lt;br /&gt;Да пораснеш.&lt;br /&gt;Стига ме дърпахте, не искам да играя по вашите правила. Защото те са грешни!&lt;br /&gt;Ще разперя ръце и ще прегърна. Може би пак ще бъда нагрубена. Но ще си легна спокойна, че направих това, което смятам за правилно.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Moloko - Forever More &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I drown in this sea of devotion&lt;br /&gt;Just a stone left unturned&lt;br /&gt;My need is deep&lt;br /&gt;Wide endless oceans&lt;br /&gt;Feel it furious&lt;br /&gt;The fire burns on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let there be love&lt;br /&gt;Everlasting&lt;br /&gt;And it will live eternally&lt;br /&gt;Will we receive without ever asking?&lt;br /&gt;Im just curious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got to find me somebody&lt;br /&gt;But there's nobody&lt;br /&gt;To love me&lt;br /&gt;And its driving me crazy&lt;br /&gt;There's nobody to love me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody tell me&lt;br /&gt;How could there be nobody&lt;br /&gt;To love me&lt;br /&gt;And its driving me crazy&lt;br /&gt;There's nobody to love me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Endless tears&lt;br /&gt;Forever joy&lt;br /&gt;To feel most every feeling&lt;br /&gt;Forever more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if I drown in this sea of devotion&lt;br /&gt;Just a stone left unturned&lt;br /&gt;My need is deep&lt;br /&gt;Wide endless oceans&lt;br /&gt;Feel it furious&lt;br /&gt;The fire burns on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont want to see me crying&lt;br /&gt;Just want to see me flying&lt;br /&gt;I need to get so high and&lt;br /&gt;Want somebody to blow my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got to find me somebody&lt;br /&gt;But there's nobody&lt;br /&gt;To love me&lt;br /&gt;Anybody could love me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And its driving me crazy&lt;br /&gt;There's nobody to love me&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114531664915865958?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post_18.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114526875374541694</guid><pubDate>Mon, 17 Apr 2006 10:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-04-17T13:12:33.756+03:00</atom:updated><title>Брех!</title><description>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://home.att.net/~slugbutter/evil/" target="new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.att.net/~slugbutter/evil/pureevil.jpg" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://home.att.net/~slugbutter/evil/" target="new"&gt;How evil are &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt;?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Мамицата му...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114526875374541694?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post_114526875374541694.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114522871111658092</guid><pubDate>Sun, 16 Apr 2006 22:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-04-17T02:17:01.913+03:00</atom:updated><title>Unfinished Sympathy</title><description>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.massiveattack.co.uk/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Massive Attack&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that i've been mad in love before&lt;br /&gt;And how it could be with you&lt;br /&gt;Really hurt me baby, really cut me baby&lt;br /&gt;How can have a day without a night&lt;br /&gt;You're the book that I have opened&lt;br /&gt;And now i've got to know much more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The curiousness of your potential kiss&lt;br /&gt;Has got my mind and body aching&lt;br /&gt;Really hurt me baby, really cut me baby&lt;br /&gt;How can you have a day without a night&lt;br /&gt;You're the book that I have opened&lt;br /&gt;And now I've got to know much more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a soul without a mind&lt;br /&gt;In a body without a heart&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing every part&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3446/570/1600/upd-nupc7.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3446/570/400/upd-nupc7.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114522871111658092?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/04/unfinished-sympathy.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114506063941121110</guid><pubDate>Fri, 14 Apr 2006 23:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-04-15T03:23:59.476+03:00</atom:updated><title>Мечтая те</title><description>Тя ми разказа как е целувала устните ти. Как ти си търсел нейните устни. Тя каза, че вече не те иска. Аз не повярвах. Оплетохме се в измислени оправдания. Страхът да изгубим приятелството, заради... &lt;br /&gt;Реших да се отдръпна. Все пак аз съм илюзията, тя е реалността. Аз съм това, което си мечтаеш, че искаш. Тя е това, което си харесал преди време.&lt;br /&gt;Не се предавам. Просто съм объркана и не знам как да постъпя. Не искам да говоря с теб за това. Страх ме е да не я нараня. Не искам никого да наранявам. &lt;br /&gt;Знам, че си объркан. Знам, че и идея си нямаш какво се случи, защо изчезнах. Знам, че си прекалено горд, за да попиташ. Но не знам как да ти обясня.&lt;br /&gt;Пуснах си "Спри до мен" на Дони и Леа Иванова и излязох на двора да пуша и да погледам звездите. Самотата е толкова осезаема. Мога да я помириша, мога да я пипна. А звездите ми се усмихват с успокояващата усмивка на баба: "Времето лекува всичко...".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Дони и Леа Иванова - Спри до мен&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Една китара не спира да звъни.&lt;br /&gt;Не спира да разкъсва своите струни, &lt;br /&gt;че няма кой да носи радост в тъжните ми дни, &lt;br /&gt;ни кой да ме прегърне и целуне.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Спри до мен, спри до мен, спри до мен,&lt;br /&gt;засвири ми пак със звънката китара&lt;br /&gt;и какво от туй, че може пак със стария рефрен &lt;br /&gt;да се върне в сърцето болка стара.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Денят настъпва и светлите лъчи&lt;br /&gt;огряват ярко тоя свят огромен, &lt;br /&gt;но аз посрещам изгрева с разплакани очи, &lt;br /&gt;че всичко си остана тъжен спомен. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Една любов избира този час &lt;br /&gt;и вечно с нова сила се повтаря, &lt;br /&gt;но значи ли раздялата, че няма пак за нас &lt;br /&gt;една любов сърцата да изгаря.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;И сълзите нежно галят страните ми. Мечтая те...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114506063941121110?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post_15.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114454272617712234</guid><pubDate>Sun, 09 Apr 2006 00:13:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-01-16T10:55:35.232+02:00</atom:updated><title>Прибирам се!</title><description>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3446/570/1600/ris4_3.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3446/570/200/ris4_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Преди няколко дена гледах една реклама по телевизията. Кампания за подпомогане на сираци. Едно мъничко момиченце с големи къдрици и прекрасни, широко отворени очи, на годинките на дъщеря ми, играеше на топка. То подаваше топката някому и му я връщаха. Наигра се. Камерата бавно се отдалечи, докато момиченцето се приближаваше към мястото, накъдето подаваше топката. Видя се стена. На нея бяха нарисувани две фигури - мама и татко. То си беше играло с тези фигури. "Гушна" се детето в стената и си тръгна... И тогава разбрах.  Никакви пари, нищо не може да замени сигурността и уюта на майчината прегръдка. Искам да се прибера и да дам на моето Тони това, което мога. А не това, което хората смятат, че трябва...&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3446/570/1600/ris1_3.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:10px 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3446/570/200/ris1_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Искам да я гледам как расте. Искам да участвам активно в деня и', изпълнен с приключения. Искам да съм герой от този ден. Искам да гледам малките и' ръчички как рисуват, учат се да пишат. Искам да и' разказвам приказки нощем. Искам да я нося на раменете си, докато все още мога.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Обичам те, Тоничка. Мама си иде да те гушка. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3446/570/1600/ris3_3.1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3446/570/400/ris3_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114454272617712234?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post_09.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114415130504010250</guid><pubDate>Tue, 04 Apr 2006 11:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-04-04T14:48:25.150+03:00</atom:updated><title>Искам</title><description>*******X (10:11) : &lt;br /&gt;LOVE... is a way of feeling&lt;br /&gt;LOVE is a way of feeling less alone&lt;br /&gt;So what's all the fuss about?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Искам си спокойствието. Искам си сигурността и увереността. Искам да знам.&lt;br /&gt;В такива моменти се чувствам като изгубено дете. Широко отворени очи, пълни с паника. И в главата ми само една въпрос - защо?...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Жените сме... Нямам думи!&lt;br /&gt;Когато една жена е сама, винаги търси вината в себе си. "Защо съм сама? Сигурно съм твърде грозна? Мисля прекалено? Не мисля достатъчно? Говоря много? Скучно му е с мен? Къде сбърках?..."&lt;br /&gt;Когато един мъж ни подари цвете, започваме да мислим защо ли го е направил. Ако жена подари цвете на някой мъж, той или ще се усмихне, казвайки някоя шега, или просто ще го приеме. И няма какво да му мисли. Искала съм, подарила съм.&lt;br /&gt;Как да се науча да не търся под вола теле? Несигурността ме убива.&lt;br /&gt;Трябваше ли да слагам всички под един знаменател?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Троп, троп с краче - "Искам, искам и все така заспивам..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114415130504010250?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post_114415130504010250.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114411274323693072</guid><pubDate>Tue, 04 Apr 2006 00:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-04-04T04:12:30.810+03:00</atom:updated><title>Липсваш ми...</title><description>Липсва ми уюта на твоята компания. Липсват ми усмивките, липсват ми закачките. Липсва ми изненадата. Липсва ми сигурността. Липсват ми копнежите и мечтите. Липсва ми парещото усещане в стомаха, когато ме заговаряш. Липсва ми да ти се цупя и да знам, че ти пука. Липсва ми дори, когато ми се караш. Липсва ми: "Виж VH1!"...&lt;br /&gt;Колко ли ще издържа? Дори не помня точно защо се разсърдих. Чия гордост ще победи?&lt;br /&gt;Трябва да се науча на търпение.&lt;br /&gt;Кремена (обичам те, Кремуцка!) ме нарича тайфун - появявам се, опустошавам всичко и изчезвам. &lt;br /&gt;Няма да се науча. Мога да съм инатеста, но не и търпелива!&lt;br /&gt;Искам да живея в интересни времена. ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114411274323693072?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post_04.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114401560650036201</guid><pubDate>Sun, 02 Apr 2006 20:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-04-03T02:42:13.566+03:00</atom:updated><title>Самота</title><description>Чаках го. Исках го. Тръпнех. Жадувах разказите му. Бях натрупала толкова много емоции за споделяне. Но всичко отново бе само мечти. Плод на болното ми и изтерзано от самота съзнание.&lt;br /&gt;Самота. В &lt;a href="http://bg.wiktionary.org/wiki/%D0%9D%D0%B0%D1%87%D0%B0%D0%BB%D0%BD%D0%B0_%D1%81%D1%82%D1%80%D0%B0%D0%BD%D0%B8%D1%86%D0%B0" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Уикиречник&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; прочетох: "Самота - Съществително нарицателно име, женски род. Значението на думата все още не е въведено."&lt;br /&gt;Несигурност. Неувереност.&lt;br /&gt;Или простичкото желание и нужда от човешка топлина. От сигурността, че имa някой, който те обича. Който мисли за теб, дори когато те няма.&lt;br /&gt;Надежди. Празни надежди.&lt;br /&gt;Думички, измислени, за да оправдаят страховете ни.&lt;br /&gt;Измислици. Измислици, заради които страдаме. Защото вярваме, че някой ден ще срещнем съпричастността. А съпричастност няма.&lt;br /&gt;Сляпа вяра. За какво ми е, щом само болка причинява?&lt;br /&gt;Искам да срещна себе си. Искам да се намеря, но света е пълен с грозни уловки, в които сляпо вярвам. Запечатаното в главата ми от детството: "...и заживели щастливо". &lt;br /&gt;Щастие. Пак &lt;a href="http://bg.wiktionary.org/wiki/%D0%9D%D0%B0%D1%87%D0%B0%D0%BB%D0%BD%D0%B0_%D1%81%D1%82%D1%80%D0%B0%D0%BD%D0%B8%D1%86%D0%B0" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Уикиречник&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;: "Щастие - Съществително нарицателно име, среден род. Значението на думата все още не е въведено."&lt;br /&gt;Това вече е подигравка.&lt;br /&gt;Реално погледнато не е. Просто беше твърде подходящо за черногледството ми в момента.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Попитах &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Main_Page" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loneliness" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Loneliness&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; is an emotional state in which a person experiences a powerful feeling of emptiness and isolation. Loneliness is more than just the feeling of wanting company or wanting to do something with another person. Loneliness is a feeling of being cut off, disconnected, and/or alienated from other people, so that it feels difficult or even impossible to have any form of meaningful human contact. Lonely people often feel empty or hollow inside. Feelings of separation or isolation from the world are common amongst those that are lonely.&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness should not be equated with being alone. Everyone has times when they are alone for situational reasons, or because they have chosen to be alone. Being alone can be experienced as positive, pleasurable, and emotionally nourishing if it is under the individual's control. Solitude is the state of being alone and secluded from other people, and often implies having made a conscious choice to be alone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ефекти:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness can play a part in alcoholism, and in children a lack of social connections is directly linked to several forms of antisocial and self-destructive behavior...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;А по-долу даже предлагат и лечение:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is often posited that loneliness is "the only disease that can be cured by adding two or more cases together."&lt;br /&gt;Often, people mitigate loneliness by interacting with others via the Internet. However, it is widely believed that purely online relationships are no substitute for in-person relationships, an opinion based at least partially on the fact that a person's true identity is very difficult to determine on the Internet...&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Черупката ме стяга. Маската ми убива. Стените ме задушават.&lt;br /&gt;Усмихвайки се през сълзи лъжем всъщност себе си.&lt;br /&gt;Къде е смисъла?&lt;br /&gt;"Колко ще се получи, ако умножите шест по девет?"&lt;br /&gt;42.&lt;br /&gt;А щраусът си заравя главата в пясъка.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114401560650036201?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114385410523663353</guid><pubDate>Sat, 01 Apr 2006 01:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-04-03T02:44:29.720+03:00</atom:updated><title>Lovers...</title><description>&lt;blockquote&gt;Deepak Chopra feat. Demi Moore - Desire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lover knows only humility&lt;br /&gt;He has no choice&lt;br /&gt;He steals into your alley at night&lt;br /&gt;He has no choice...&lt;br /&gt;He longs to kiss every lock of your hair&lt;br /&gt;Don't fret&lt;br /&gt;He has no choice...&lt;br /&gt;In his frenzzied love for you&lt;br /&gt;He longs to break&lt;br /&gt;The chains of his imprisonment&lt;br /&gt;He has no choice...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lover asked his beloved, "Do you love yourself more than you love me?"&lt;br /&gt;The Beloved replied, "I have died to myself and I live for you. I have disappared from myself and my attributes. I am present only for you. I have forgotten all my learnings. But from knowing you I have become a scholar. I have lost all my strengh but from your power, I am able... I love myself - I love you... I love you - I love myself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come to me"&lt;br /&gt;I'm your lover&lt;br /&gt;Come to my side will open the gate to your love&lt;br /&gt;Come settle with me &lt;br /&gt;Let us be neighbours to the stars &lt;br /&gt;You have been hiding so long&lt;br /&gt;Aimlessly drifting in the sea of my love&lt;br /&gt;Even so... you have always been connected to me&lt;br /&gt;Concealed, revealed&lt;br /&gt;In the known,&lt;br /&gt;In the unmanifest&lt;br /&gt;I am life itself!&lt;br /&gt;You have been a prisoner of a little pond&lt;br /&gt;I am the ocean an it's turbulent flood&lt;br /&gt;Come merge with me&lt;br /&gt;Leave this world of ignorance&lt;br /&gt;Be with me...I will open &lt;br /&gt;The gate to your love&lt;br /&gt;Desire&lt;br /&gt;I desire you&lt;br /&gt;More than food&lt;br /&gt;Or drink&lt;br /&gt;My body&lt;br /&gt;My senses &lt;br /&gt;My mind Hunger for your taste&lt;br /&gt;I can sense your presence In my heart&lt;br /&gt;Although you belong to all the world I wait with silent passion&lt;br /&gt;For one gesture, one glance from you... &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Искам да се слея с теб. Искам да пропадна в очите ти. И в моите ти да прочетеш всичко. Отачаянието, радостта, болката, надеждата... Любовта.&lt;br /&gt;Искам да съм твоя робиня и твоя господарка. Искам да съм зависима и свободна. Искам да потеглим двамата към безпаметността. И да потънем в бездната на безкрайното блаженство. Където няма измерения, няма въпроси, няма обяснения. Има само сега, завинаги и Обичам те.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114385410523663353?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/04/lovers.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114363732557178520</guid><pubDate>Wed, 29 Mar 2006 12:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-03-29T16:03:09.580+03:00</atom:updated><title>To Wear Sunscreen</title><description>&lt;center&gt;Baz Luhrmann - Everybody Is Free (To Wear Sunscreen)&lt;br /&gt;*Spoken By Lee Perry*&lt;br /&gt;===================================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ?9... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wear Sunscreen &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.&lt;br /&gt;The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas &lt;br /&gt;the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience&lt;br /&gt;I will dispense this advice now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand &lt;br /&gt;the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years &lt;br /&gt;youll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you cant grasp now how &lt;br /&gt;much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.&lt;br /&gt;Youre not as fat as you imagine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying &lt;br /&gt;is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. &lt;br /&gt;The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your &lt;br /&gt;worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do one thing everyday that scares you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont be reckless with other peoples hearts, dont put up with people who &lt;br /&gt;are reckless with yours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Floss &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont waste your time on jealousy; sometimes youre ahead, sometimes youre behind&lt;br /&gt;the race is long, and in the end, its only with yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing&lt;br /&gt;this, tell me how. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stretch &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont feel guilty if you dont know what you want to do with your life&lt;br /&gt;the most interesting people I know didnt know at 22 what they wanted to do with&lt;br /&gt;their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds know still dont. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get plenty of calcium. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be kind to your knees, youll miss them when theyre gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe youll marry, maybe you wont, maybe youll have children, &lt;br /&gt;maybe you wont, maybe youll divorce at 40, maybe youll dance the funky chicken&lt;br /&gt;on your 75th wedding anniversary.&lt;br /&gt;What ever you do, dont congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either&lt;br /&gt;your choices are half chance, so are everybody elses. Enjoy your body,&lt;br /&gt;use it every way you can dont be afraid of it, or what other people think of it,&lt;br /&gt;its the greatest instrument youll ever own.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dance even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the directions, even if you dont follow them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get to know your parents, you never know when theyll be gone for good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and&lt;br /&gt;the people most likely to stick with you in the future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you should hold on.&lt;br /&gt;Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get,&lt;br /&gt;the more you need the people you knew when you were young. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard;&lt;br /&gt;live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Travel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, &lt;br /&gt;you too will get old, and when you do youll fantasize that when you were &lt;br /&gt;young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their &lt;br /&gt;elders. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respect your elders. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund,&lt;br /&gt;maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont mess too much with your hair, or by the time its 40, it will look 85. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. &lt;br /&gt;Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past &lt;br /&gt;from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling &lt;br /&gt;it for more than its worth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But trust me on the sunscreen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;================&lt;br /&gt;Quindon Tarver&lt;br /&gt;================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody's free, everybody's free, everybody's free &lt;br /&gt;Everybody's free, everybody's free, to feel good, to feel good &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brother and sister together will make it through oh, huh yeah &lt;br /&gt;Someday a spirit will take you and guide you there &lt;br /&gt;I know you've been hurting ,but i've been waiting to be there for you &lt;br /&gt;And I'll be there, just helping you out whenever I can &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody's free ohh yea yeah &lt;br /&gt;Oh Every ho yeah &lt;br /&gt;Oh to feel good &lt;br /&gt;Ohh to feel good* &lt;br /&gt;(** chorus : &lt;br /&gt;Everybody's free, everybody's free &lt;br /&gt;Everybody's free, everybody's free, everybody's free, to feel good) &lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114363732557178520?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/03/to-wear-sunscreen.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114342201721118728</guid><pubDate>Mon, 27 Mar 2006 00:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-03-27T04:17:38.763+03:00</atom:updated><title>Ела близо до сълзите ми</title><description>Може би открих Дон Кихот. Долсинеята в мен се събуди. Искам да вляза в тази мелница, в която се е заключил. Искам да прегърна тъжната му, отчаяна душа. Искам да го погледна в очите. И в моите той да прочете отговора, който вече е спрял да търси.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Тази вечер той беше странно шеговит. Някак си хладен. Стана ми студено. И, както винаги, реших да се скрия под дебелото одеало на самотното ми легло.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Защо се плаша? Защото може аз да не съм неговата Долсинея. И ме е страх да чуя този отговор. Винаги съм твърдяла, че мразя фалшивите надежди. Защо тогава сама ги подхранвам?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Знам, че той няма никога да прочете тези редове.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Не знам какво да правя утре...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Този филм" Дони и Нети&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ела във очите ми,&lt;br /&gt;ела близо до сълзите ми,&lt;br /&gt;ела близо до лицето ми,&lt;br /&gt;ела близо до сърцето ми.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Тихо ела, а после силно се гушни във мен,&lt;br /&gt;филмът за възрастни е забранен.&lt;br /&gt;Тихо ела, а после силно се стопи във мен,&lt;br /&gt;филмът е наш...&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114342201721118728?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/03/blog-post_114342201721118728.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8421524.post-114341870051200871</guid><pubDate>Mon, 27 Mar 2006 00:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-04-03T02:46:18.700+03:00</atom:updated><title>Пф!</title><description>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://home.att.net/~slugbutter/evil/" target="new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.att.net/~slugbutter/evil/twisted.jpg" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://home.att.net/~slugbutter/evil/" target="new"&gt;How evil are &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt;?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;А аз си мислех, че съм добричка... Единствено ме успокоява факта, че съм "на равно" с &lt;a href="http://mopemo.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_mopemo_archive.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Елена&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8421524-114341870051200871?l=annaboncheva.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://annaboncheva.blogspot.com/2006/03/blog-post_27.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Анна Бончева)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>