<?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-20738743</id><updated>2011-11-02T04:12:25.650Z</updated><category term='articles'/><category term='texts'/><category term='PR strategy'/><category term='people'/><category term='places'/><category term='personal'/><category term='killing me softly'/><category term='visions'/><category term='time after time'/><title type='text'>It's a matter of time</title><subtitle type='html'>hope springs eternal half-awake</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>87</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-579579289592510104</id><published>2011-03-21T09:21:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-03-23T02:26:31.512Z</updated><title type='text'>it’s been a long time coming</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qcUvSPC4Oxc/TYlZmB80cXI/AAAAAAAAAOA/3U0c28yVgmo/s1600/world-press-photo-201019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qcUvSPC4Oxc/TYlZmB80cXI/AAAAAAAAAOA/3U0c28yVgmo/s400/world-press-photo-201019.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587095322623242610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...but we’ve been living as friends&lt;br /&gt;so you’ve been a guest in your own home&lt;br /&gt;it’s time to make your house your home&lt;br /&gt;pick up your phone, come on...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-579579289592510104?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/579579289592510104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=579579289592510104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/579579289592510104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/579579289592510104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2011/03/its-been-long-time-coming.html' title='it’s been a long time coming'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qcUvSPC4Oxc/TYlZmB80cXI/AAAAAAAAAOA/3U0c28yVgmo/s72-c/world-press-photo-201019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-2179169680931865054</id><published>2011-01-24T03:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-01-26T03:56:33.654Z</updated><title type='text'>love to see you happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;just wait for the weekend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;---------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You and your museum of lovers&lt;br /&gt;The precious collection you've housed in your covers&lt;br /&gt;My simpleness threatened by my own admission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the bags are much too heavy&lt;br /&gt;In my insecure condition&lt;br /&gt;My pregnant mind is fat full with envy again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanted and adored by attractive women&lt;br /&gt;Bountiful selection at your descretion&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm diving into my own destruction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do we choose the boys that are naughty?&lt;br /&gt;I don't fit in so why do you want me?&lt;br /&gt;I know I can't tame you. But I just keep trying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I love to wash in your old bathwater&lt;br /&gt;Love to think that you couldn't love another&lt;br /&gt;I'm on your list with all your other women&lt;br /&gt;But I still love to wash in your old bathwater&lt;br /&gt;You make me feel like I couldn't love another&lt;br /&gt;I can't help it. You're my kind of man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do the good girls always want the bad boys?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I pacify problems with kisses and cuddles&lt;br /&gt;Dilligently doubtful through all kinds of trouble&lt;br /&gt;Then I find myself choking on all my contradictions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;No I can't help myself&lt;br /&gt;I still love to wash in your old bathwater&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-2179169680931865054?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/2179169680931865054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=2179169680931865054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2179169680931865054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2179169680931865054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2011/01/love-to-see-you-happy.html' title='love to see you happy'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-2498430088547693628</id><published>2010-10-30T22:19:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T22:40:24.729+01:00</updated><title type='text'>When we were walking lonely avenue.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyPj0ueB5I/AAAAAAAAANs/hHV_UkqdkbA/s1600/sky-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyPj0ueB5I/AAAAAAAAANs/hHV_UkqdkbA/s400/sky-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533955887743240082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When you look at the sky, you see what looks like stars stuck on the inside of a great sphere centered on the Earth. Because the distances are so large, they appear to be the same. This makes it look like the Earth is on the center of a great sky abbyss. All the stars seem to be infinitely far away. We can't fault the ancients for seeing the sky as a hollow circle; it certainly looks that way. Most of the time, staring.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-2498430088547693628?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/2498430088547693628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=2498430088547693628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2498430088547693628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2498430088547693628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2010/10/when-we-were-walking-lonely-avenue.html' title='When we were walking lonely avenue.'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyPj0ueB5I/AAAAAAAAANs/hHV_UkqdkbA/s72-c/sky-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-9039189614489584388</id><published>2010-07-06T20:15:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T21:06:35.758+01:00</updated><title type='text'>once and for all...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;object width="408" height="254"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qksTlo_1Tpw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qksTlo_1Tpw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="408" height="254"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;...time will see us realign&lt;br /&gt;diamonds rain across the sky&lt;br /&gt;shower me into the same realm&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-9039189614489584388?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/9039189614489584388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=9039189614489584388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/9039189614489584388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/9039189614489584388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2010/07/if-we.html' title='once and for all...'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-8455174955201835490</id><published>2010-04-12T21:37:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T01:31:43.023+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='places'/><title type='text'>istanbul, off the water</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/S8OJ5LHkrcI/AAAAAAAAAM8/5t4sVQ-IAKg/s1600/istanbul.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459358788633275842" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/S8OJ5LHkrcI/AAAAAAAAAM8/5t4sVQ-IAKg/s400/istanbul.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm with &lt;em&gt;his&lt;/em&gt; pink fleecy shawl, he's drinking my wine. I'm still sleeping in his bed, he's out for my breakfast. I'm beating the devil's tatoo on the balcony's edge. He's goffering my hair thoroughly nice. Somehow I'm almost there, he's always but nowhere. We can't get enough.&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/20738743-8455174955201835490?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/8455174955201835490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=8455174955201835490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/8455174955201835490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/8455174955201835490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2010/04/istanbul.html' title='istanbul, off the water'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/S8OJ5LHkrcI/AAAAAAAAAM8/5t4sVQ-IAKg/s72-c/istanbul.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-5741194479909179997</id><published>2010-04-03T12:43:00.010+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T01:29:54.743+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Manchester!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hi there! To explain the “Oh, Manchester!” thing, first there's a line in The Smiths song called &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A9DH0_b3F1c" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Suffer Little Children&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt; that says, “&lt;em&gt;Oh, Manchester, so much to answer for!&lt;/em&gt;” and it’s been stuck in my head for days. Or years? Whenever there is a quiet moment, for example, when I’m standing awkwardly in the middle of a gym, leaning on a hockey stick, the liquid voice of Morrissey will pop into my head, moaning something about, “&lt;em&gt;Over the moors, I’m on the moors.&lt;/em&gt;” Fug, what a weird song, come to think of it. The Smiths have a lot of really weird songs, but there are so many priceless one-liners. “&lt;em&gt;Ask me why, and I’ll spit in your eye.&lt;/em&gt;” Arg, so amazing. I’ve been asked so many stupid “why” questions in my life. “Why are you so weird?” “Why do you wear £500 shoes?” “Why is there a bandaid on your head?” (So, yeah, that one isn’t so stupid.) “Why can’t you just not be that childish?” I don’t know, I’m not you. Just stupid questions that have no sufficient answer. “Because I’m cool?” Right? Stupid questions. A bunch of...&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/20738743-5741194479909179997?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/5741194479909179997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=5741194479909179997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/5741194479909179997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/5741194479909179997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2010/04/oh-manchester.html' title='Oh, Manchester!'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-479963975377982609</id><published>2010-01-01T10:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-02T02:52:32.370Z</updated><title type='text'>And I wish to you, joy and happiness...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Sz60iQtPeFI/AAAAAAAAAM0/XIeYlEH45Gw/s1600-h/will-always.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421969502093932626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Sz60iQtPeFI/AAAAAAAAAM0/XIeYlEH45Gw/s400/will-always.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But above all this, I wish you love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-479963975377982609?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/479963975377982609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=479963975377982609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/479963975377982609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/479963975377982609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2010/01/and-i-wish-to-you-joy-and-happiness.html' title='And I wish to you, joy and happiness...'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Sz60iQtPeFI/AAAAAAAAAM0/XIeYlEH45Gw/s72-c/will-always.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-3256609020018144787</id><published>2009-10-29T09:49:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-10-31T02:15:48.281Z</updated><title type='text'>spin spin sugar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Suua4H7eXsI/AAAAAAAAAMs/BjCduG9H3gM/s1600-h/twist.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398578867325525698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 387px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Suua4H7eXsI/AAAAAAAAAMs/BjCduG9H3gM/s400/twist.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Ev'rybody had a hard year&lt;br /&gt;Ev'rybody had a good time&lt;br /&gt;Ev'rybody had a wet dream,&lt;br /&gt;Ev'rybody saw the sunshine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ev'rybody had a good year,&lt;br /&gt;Ev'rybody let their hair down,&lt;br /&gt;Ev'rybody pulled their socks up,&lt;br /&gt;Ev'rybody put their foot down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that I was looking for&lt;br /&gt;was somebody who looked like you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-3256609020018144787?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/3256609020018144787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=3256609020018144787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3256609020018144787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3256609020018144787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/10/spin-spin-sugar.html' title='spin spin sugar'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Suua4H7eXsI/AAAAAAAAAMs/BjCduG9H3gM/s72-c/twist.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1627294388367159894</id><published>2009-09-21T10:25:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T21:45:33.287+01:00</updated><title type='text'>3 days in a row</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yHh-b0bDMyM&amp;amp;hl=" width="408" height="322" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" fs="1&amp;amp;rel=" color1="0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;Baby boy when I saw you the first time&lt;br /&gt;I knew right away that you and I&lt;br /&gt;We're connected in a way&lt;br /&gt;I believed that there was way something more&lt;br /&gt;That I could ever express in my own words&lt;br /&gt;I just knew at the time&lt;br /&gt;I belonged to you but it all felt so wrong&lt;br /&gt;To do the things that my heart gave in&lt;br /&gt;Baby I’m telling you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384766669067081522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 123px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SrqIwXwbVzI/AAAAAAAAAL8/HqIemd2cg3k/s400/anouk09.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-1627294388367159894?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1627294388367159894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1627294388367159894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1627294388367159894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1627294388367159894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/09/3-days-in-row.html' title='3 days in a row'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SrqIwXwbVzI/AAAAAAAAAL8/HqIemd2cg3k/s72-c/anouk09.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-6784612152223557209</id><published>2009-09-14T09:14:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T01:32:03.986+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='places'/><title type='text'>last &amp; then london</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vlad-rm-corp.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381527540072315218" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Sq8GyP79-VI/AAAAAAAAAL0/JwcmlZKIs9g/s400/5700_1182632296850_1559499762_30496076_6917859_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vlad-rm-corp.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vlad-rm-corp.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;he said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;:&lt;em&gt; this one is important -&lt;/em&gt; and so i trust him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/20738743-6784612152223557209?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/6784612152223557209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=6784612152223557209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6784612152223557209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6784612152223557209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/09/last-then-london.html' title='last &amp; then london'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Sq8GyP79-VI/AAAAAAAAAL0/JwcmlZKIs9g/s72-c/5700_1182632296850_1559499762_30496076_6917859_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-245396317562466871</id><published>2009-09-06T19:46:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T19:50:03.684+01:00</updated><title type='text'>want you back, na na na</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Oh, I did it too fast. I was too excited. Otherwise I'm gonna fall of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OM490EXk8v0&amp;amp;hl=" width="408" height="322" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" color1="0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=" fs="1&amp;amp;rel="&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-245396317562466871?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/245396317562466871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=245396317562466871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/245396317562466871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/245396317562466871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/09/want-you-back-na-na-na.html' title='want you back, na na na'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-4648505913688078192</id><published>2009-08-23T04:05:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T01:33:18.841+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='places'/><title type='text'>here be sozopol</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SpCyLL3_ThI/AAAAAAAAAK8/q_2YHX6pxRU/s1600-h/5800_1107157244403_1390961373_30296152_1567113_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372990260688932370" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SpCyLL3_ThI/AAAAAAAAAK8/q_2YHX6pxRU/s400/5800_1107157244403_1390961373_30296152_1567113_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;happy ! lost ! my purrrfect drama ! one more day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/20738743-4648505913688078192?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/4648505913688078192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=4648505913688078192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/4648505913688078192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/4648505913688078192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/08/here-be-sozopol.html' title='here be sozopol'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SpCyLL3_ThI/AAAAAAAAAK8/q_2YHX6pxRU/s72-c/5800_1107157244403_1390961373_30296152_1567113_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1483669183317197984</id><published>2009-08-09T03:00:00.022+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T01:32:53.712+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='places'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>- white house city nights</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Благодаря че ме доведе дотук. Красиво е. Спиш съвсем близко до мен. Виждам те. И не знаеш. Как много си мисля за теб. Това е първата ни почивка заедно, далеч от моето вкъщи и твоето вкъщи. Далеч, и различно. На едно съвсем непознато място. За каквото и за когото да си говорим и кой за което да си помисли, се радвам че мога все пак да въздишам. Моля те да помислиш и ти доколко може да издържи крехкото ми сърце. Връщам се в леглото ти. Във нашето легло. Имам нуждата от прегръдка. Ще ме познаеш щом се събудиш.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;embed height="322" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="408" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CzFV5X9Qbgc&amp;amp;hl=" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" color1="0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=" fs="1&amp;amp;rel="&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-1483669183317197984?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1483669183317197984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1483669183317197984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1483669183317197984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1483669183317197984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/08/city-nights.html' title='- white house city nights'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-4550073648453638062</id><published>2009-08-01T19:33:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T04:26:16.291+01:00</updated><title type='text'>painted shirts</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365065448785922370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 151px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SnSKma-bSUI/AAAAAAAAAK0/nVuUcX8K9R8/s400/its_okay_pluto_im_not_a_planet_either_lead.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;...i'm not a planet either&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&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/20738743-4550073648453638062?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/4550073648453638062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=4550073648453638062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/4550073648453638062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/4550073648453638062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/08/shirts.html' title='painted shirts'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SnSKma-bSUI/AAAAAAAAAK0/nVuUcX8K9R8/s72-c/its_okay_pluto_im_not_a_planet_either_lead.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-5507384802223407680</id><published>2009-07-26T11:52:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T01:33:51.517+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='articles'/><title type='text'>...and time matters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Sm2G90G_HOI/AAAAAAAAAKs/-qRf41cnWX4/s1600-h/cr-unset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 120px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363091127786216674" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Sm2G90G_HOI/AAAAAAAAAKs/-qRf41cnWX4/s400/cr-unset.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;“At the atomic scale, it is never possible to obtain what scientists would traditionally consider to be complete information. Aside from the practical problems, there is an inherent limit on the ability to record information about matter and energy. Understanding conjectural objects requires the willing suspension of disbelief. These objects are fuzzy entities that elude concrete escription, defying commonsense notions of space and time, cause and effect. They aren't the sorts of things you can hold in your hand or play catch with. But whatever its form, information can be measured by bits and therefore described using prime numbers. Measuring the motion freezes its spin in one of the directions, or states, destroying the other possibilities. The destruction of all those different possible spin directions means a lot of information gets lost. But one of the key uses of information theories is helping make efficient use of information. Which is all over the place, even further.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-5507384802223407680?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/5507384802223407680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=5507384802223407680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/5507384802223407680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/5507384802223407680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/07/and-time-matters.html' title='...and time matters'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Sm2G90G_HOI/AAAAAAAAAKs/-qRf41cnWX4/s72-c/cr-unset.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1628169920898126916</id><published>2009-07-12T23:13:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T23:16:29.591+01:00</updated><title type='text'>fallin in and out</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Slpe-Fsg7AI/AAAAAAAAAKk/GOxWT1gJzjc/s1600-h/ad-700side.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357699127484410882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Slpe-Fsg7AI/AAAAAAAAAKk/GOxWT1gJzjc/s400/ad-700side.jpeg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Giving answer to the why: Your eyes are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TxvpctgU_s8" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;haunting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt; me !&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/20738743-1628169920898126916?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1628169920898126916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1628169920898126916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1628169920898126916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1628169920898126916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/07/fallin-in-and-out.html' title='fallin in and out'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Slpe-Fsg7AI/AAAAAAAAAKk/GOxWT1gJzjc/s72-c/ad-700side.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-7238837129603745080</id><published>2009-06-20T01:51:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T05:22:29.454+01:00</updated><title type='text'>invisible attraction</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pauljenkins.net/works/paintings/1973TIbetanFlange.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 352px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.pauljenkins.net/works/paintings/1973TIbetanFlange.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;- Paul Jenkins, Phenomena Tibetan Flange 1973 -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-7238837129603745080?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/7238837129603745080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=7238837129603745080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7238837129603745080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7238837129603745080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/06/invisible-attraction.html' title='invisible attraction'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-2867219297206438231</id><published>2009-06-01T13:16:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T13:27:23.179+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>...and breathe me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SiPIOrQUnmI/AAAAAAAAAKc/jnFUWuPrqvQ/s1600-h/may-station.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342333737446448738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 315px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SiPIOrQUnmI/AAAAAAAAAKc/jnFUWuPrqvQ/s400/may-station.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;wrap me up, unfold me, i am small, &lt;a href="http://vlad-rm-corp.blogspot.com/"&gt;be my friend&lt;/a&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/20738743-2867219297206438231?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/2867219297206438231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=2867219297206438231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2867219297206438231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2867219297206438231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='...and breathe me'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SiPIOrQUnmI/AAAAAAAAAKc/jnFUWuPrqvQ/s72-c/may-station.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1968731932985265807</id><published>2009-04-16T22:39:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T13:27:43.054+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time after time'/><title type='text'>bitter sweet</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326196258068477042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SepzRv4vtHI/AAAAAAAAAKU/0llV_OuqGPY/s400/absinthe.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;absinthe at chocolaterie a:partment / me and my partner in crimes&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/20738743-1968731932985265807?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1968731932985265807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1968731932985265807' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1968731932985265807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1968731932985265807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/04/bitter-sweet.html' title='bitter sweet'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SepzRv4vtHI/AAAAAAAAAKU/0llV_OuqGPY/s72-c/absinthe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-3179751734964570652</id><published>2009-03-16T01:03:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-03-21T01:11:46.565Z</updated><title type='text'>pirates !</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/ScQ9froYAEI/AAAAAAAAAKM/h0_z3VF9A9k/s1600-h/ship.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315441074701336642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 279px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/ScQ9froYAEI/AAAAAAAAAKM/h0_z3VF9A9k/s400/ship.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;“I love pirates” – like I told him. “Then, the very next &lt;a href="http://wegotasecretsmile.blogspot.com/2009/03/pirates.html"&gt;script&lt;/a&gt; we’ll play soon is for you” – &lt;a href="http://vlad-rm-corp.blogspot.com/"&gt;he&lt;/a&gt; gently replied. “And my original edition, too” – he added in. “I do adore pirate stories” – I say now. Fantasm - doing it for the kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-3179751734964570652?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/3179751734964570652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=3179751734964570652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3179751734964570652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3179751734964570652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/03/pirates.html' title='pirates !'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/ScQ9froYAEI/AAAAAAAAAKM/h0_z3VF9A9k/s72-c/ship.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-359438073950141256</id><published>2009-01-24T19:16:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-01-25T19:20:49.094Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>Do you wonder why I love everything about you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295312546039143682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 321px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SXy6tHFVHQI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/_eKEvp-Nw9k/s400/candy2.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;At this very moment, even as you read, you are getting at the root of the cause, rather than pursuing changes that provide only temporary relief from stress. Indeed, you are making changes that will last a lifetime. In all human beings every element operates in various degrees of conflict. Sometimes our emotions pull us in one direction our instincts washes us ashore while our intellect pulls us in another. Sometimes our desires try to lead us down a certain path but our fears won't allow us to follow. While you're growing up you're told what to do, how to do it, and when to have it done. You can't develop the psychological qualities required for self-assertion until you've become aware of, and busted through every mental block. Knowing the past sources of your current thoughts and feelings is important because thoughts and feelings lead to behavior, and behavior, in turn, leads to thoughts and feelings. All aspects of your self are connected. Whenever we approach a situation in which we feel uneasy or simply uncomfortable, our anxiety rises from the depths in the form of an inner voice. So, whenever you find yourself beginning to avoid a task that needs to be done, the situation calls for relax. That’s how I feel, like autumn. But waiting at an easy pace - the spring. Where are you now?&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/20738743-359438073950141256?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/359438073950141256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=359438073950141256' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/359438073950141256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/359438073950141256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/01/at-this-very-moment-even-as-you-read.html' title='Do you wonder why I love everything about you?'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SXy6tHFVHQI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/_eKEvp-Nw9k/s72-c/candy2.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1058407678327807619</id><published>2009-01-08T08:27:00.009Z</published><updated>2009-01-09T04:00:54.846Z</updated><title type='text'>one &amp; one equals three</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't pay attention&lt;br /&gt;to the ones who never cared&lt;br /&gt;find your own direction&lt;br /&gt;cos there's sweetness in the air&lt;br /&gt;You will be the world to me&lt;br /&gt;and I will always be&lt;br /&gt;dwelling in this happiness,&lt;br /&gt;Your gift of purity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;crying somewhere between moscow and petersburg&lt;br /&gt;all in a sudden while chosing my next wistful track&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;so take my hands and we will pray&lt;br /&gt;they won't take you away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-1058407678327807619?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1058407678327807619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1058407678327807619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1058407678327807619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1058407678327807619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-one-equals-three.html' title='one &amp; one equals three'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-2027512458267510411</id><published>2009-01-04T23:08:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-04T23:18:26.247Z</updated><title type='text'>И прочесть, что словами не скажешь...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SWFDj-RET8I/AAAAAAAAAJY/wusB303n7dU/s1600-h/dvorov.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287581722798739394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SWFDj-RET8I/AAAAAAAAAJY/wusB303n7dU/s400/dvorov.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Петербург. Незащищенная жизнь, в плену ночных городов,&lt;br /&gt;среди уснувших домов - в тоске дворовых пустынь…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- на пъстроокото ми момче -&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/20738743-2027512458267510411?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/2027512458267510411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=2027512458267510411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2027512458267510411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2027512458267510411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post.html' title='И прочесть, что словами не скажешь...'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SWFDj-RET8I/AAAAAAAAAJY/wusB303n7dU/s72-c/dvorov.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1461237586202770820</id><published>2008-12-11T00:05:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:42:12.024Z</updated><title type='text'>ur secret :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SUBbwkVWUzI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/-ywpIeNHcQI/s1600-h/Clipboard02.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278319653223289650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 363px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SUBbwkVWUzI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/-ywpIeNHcQI/s400/Clipboard02.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Nobody knows it but you've got a secret smile&lt;br /&gt;And you use it -- only for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So use it and prove it: remove this whirling sadness&lt;br /&gt;I'm losing, I'm bluesing: but you can save me from madness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So save me I'm waiting, I'm needing, hear me pleading&lt;br /&gt;And soothe me, improve me, I'm grieving, I'm barely believing now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are flying around and around the world&lt;br /&gt;And I'm lying alonely&lt;br /&gt;I know there's something sacred and free reserved&lt;br /&gt;And received by me only&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shall meet at the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Petersburg" target="_blank"&gt;city&lt;/a&gt; of saints&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/20738743-1461237586202770820?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1461237586202770820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1461237586202770820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1461237586202770820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1461237586202770820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/12/ur-secret.html' title='ur secret :)'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SUBbwkVWUzI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/-ywpIeNHcQI/s72-c/Clipboard02.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-6804552156356332171</id><published>2008-11-20T11:26:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-20T17:31:15.945Z</updated><title type='text'>grazie!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SSWeXkXfHxI/AAAAAAAAAJI/KgtHYbNZeXE/s1600-h/candy1-frame.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270793066643398418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 327px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SSWeXkXfHxI/AAAAAAAAAJI/KgtHYbNZeXE/s400/candy1-frame.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;That is how He sees me. So true I do love music.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;It’s got a real vibe. Take a dress. Maybe you could cut the bottom off and wear it as a top – or just barely wear the naked trousers. There are just so many boho perfect clothes, born to flit – and, oh, how beautifully, makes you look at home in every urbanistic perfectly mismatched shabby-chic décor. Take a vintage salmon pink jumpsuit, unzipped at the back and a pair silky white knickers peeking out – while you’re whooping as you hang up or skip from one elegantly dishevelled armchair to the next. Than there’s yours hippie-trail bohemian value; so, with such quirky credentials, who’s better than you to model the oh-so-hot vintage threads that pay homage to the lazy, hazy hippie vibe of your nominated upbringing. But now it’s back. It’s cosy. And you don’t have to understand the need to wear what’s “in”, if you wear what makes you feel good about yourself. It doesn’t matter what everybody else is wearing, if you adore these accessories, too; and you’re really into them at the moment. Judging by the plans, you may be one of those sickeningly creative types, toying with the ideas for ages if it’s a hectic schedule. But vintage clothing is special because it’s unique – it’s reminiscent of some of the things modern-day designers have been sending down the runway. You never know what you’ll find when you get an individual look. Just be brave.&lt;/span&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/20738743-6804552156356332171?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/6804552156356332171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=6804552156356332171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6804552156356332171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6804552156356332171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/11/grazie.html' title='grazie!'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SSWeXkXfHxI/AAAAAAAAAJI/KgtHYbNZeXE/s72-c/candy1-frame.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1695826129510615742</id><published>2008-11-03T22:12:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-11-07T22:16:42.460Z</updated><title type='text'>My everything</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SRS9ttsStTI/AAAAAAAAAJA/Xom4Q9iGijQ/s1600-h/stella-flowers.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266042457360086322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SRS9ttsStTI/AAAAAAAAAJA/Xom4Q9iGijQ/s400/stella-flowers.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;“Daydream - I felt asleep beneath the flowers, for a couple of hours - on a beautiful day. Flavouring into…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Дали знаеш? Така се запознахме някога, с цвете. Те всеки път са различни. Ти може би знаеш? И аз все не успявам да ги запазя. Уверена съм че помниш. А свежото им ухание вехне, но не така става със спомена. Който остава далеч извън страниците на книгите между които събирам паяжинките ярки на сухи листенца. И няма кой да ги прочете. Уверена съм че знаеш. Защото това което раздаваш не се подарява не се пази не се намира не се забравя. Не може да се сравнява. Ще се обърнеш ли да ме погледнеш? Дали ще ме видиш такава какъвто аз теб си представям?&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/20738743-1695826129510615742?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1695826129510615742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1695826129510615742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1695826129510615742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1695826129510615742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-everything.html' title='My everything'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SRS9ttsStTI/AAAAAAAAAJA/Xom4Q9iGijQ/s72-c/stella-flowers.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-7093426640423156909</id><published>2008-10-01T08:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T01:49:43.015+01:00</updated><title type='text'>running out of time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Cold and frosty morning, there's not a lot to say about the things caught in my mind. Damn my situation and the games I have to play, damn my education, I can't find the words to say, with all the things caught in the middle. Cause I need more time, yes I need more time just to make things right...&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SOQaQpwSnRI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Fka_gdc2UE8/s1600-h/Untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252351938809470226" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SOQaQpwSnRI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Fka_gdc2UE8/s320/Untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after the mercy of cold water&lt;br /&gt;coming back home just for a while&lt;br /&gt;both completely torn apart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-7093426640423156909?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/7093426640423156909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=7093426640423156909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7093426640423156909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7093426640423156909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/10/running-out-of-time.html' title='running out of time'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SOQaQpwSnRI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Fka_gdc2UE8/s72-c/Untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-2057735789714294485</id><published>2008-08-29T11:33:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T15:41:10.058+01:00</updated><title type='text'>caught in a weightless moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;arbitrary iTunes choice: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvnVdMpgQOk"&gt;Deep Forest - Sweet lullaby&lt;/a&gt; / &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s4_4abCWw-w"&gt;Jose Gonzalez - Heartbeats&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SLlbSmGxoaI/AAAAAAAAAGk/z0eblSx7GHY/s1600-h/stella-sight.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240320016447021474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SLlbSmGxoaI/AAAAAAAAAGk/z0eblSx7GHY/s400/stella-sight.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I know you madly love Shania Twain and so the way she acts at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHdat6bUCoU" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt; right video. I know you play her loud. The way we did ago. I know a thing about the black and white so seeked intimacy. Is it because I'm blonde or laying low my face, but that's the point: I do believe I need some more in shading, now, in fading out. I know exactly what you say about the instant changing of the colour, of basic changing at the lodging, of inattentive changing of the habbits. And I know about exceptions of the rule. You have seen the more offensive side ot the story. Are you prepossessed in doubts? Sure, you got the point. Many faces I have seen, many places I have been, many faces I've known, more has come but gently gone; none of them should even compare to…&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/20738743-2057735789714294485?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/2057735789714294485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=2057735789714294485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2057735789714294485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2057735789714294485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/08/arbitrary-itunes-choice-deep-forest.html' title='caught in a weightless moment'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SLlbSmGxoaI/AAAAAAAAAGk/z0eblSx7GHY/s72-c/stella-sight.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-8643640324855075595</id><published>2008-08-01T11:32:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T22:28:02.822+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>because you’re gorgeous</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SJXsHCrNDxI/AAAAAAAAAGc/L_fjX655LO8/s1600-h/somewhersomehow.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230346147982020370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SJXsHCrNDxI/AAAAAAAAAGc/L_fjX655LO8/s400/somewhersomehow.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;"I would like you to be me," he said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;clasping me with all possibility,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;as if my ego would collapse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;without the aid of a demolition crew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;His smile would be enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;I suggested that "we can be us instead,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;in a way that denied conversion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;(something transparent in his eyes).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;In some ways, when our worlds collide,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;I half expect customers to give witness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;It happens daily, this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b14h8o2v1JQ" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;you tore away my shirt?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-8643640324855075595?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/8643640324855075595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=8643640324855075595' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/8643640324855075595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/8643640324855075595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/08/because-youre-gorgeous.html' title='because you’re gorgeous'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SJXsHCrNDxI/AAAAAAAAAGc/L_fjX655LO8/s72-c/somewhersomehow.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-5672616626412293256</id><published>2008-06-26T10:12:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T13:16:45.016+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><title type='text'>guess the stars if they’re quiet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SGTYwf0XHqI/AAAAAAAAAGU/nuOBbJJO0fE/s1600-h/st-london-pavement-fragment.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216532596088315554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SGTYwf0XHqI/AAAAAAAAAGU/nuOBbJJO0fE/s400/st-london-pavement-fragment.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;once barefoot pavement &amp;amp; still wondering whether there is a caring angel above&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today I may tell you that our goal is now only a few steps off while interested in just the opposite. Do not suppose for a moment that these statements are empty words. It’s just another shortcut to consequent results. Consider It indispensable to take account of the thoughts, characters and tendencies in order to avoid making slips in the direction of confident affairs. The practical application of it’s not based upon a summing up of the lessons of the past but in the light of the present. It cannot be avoided by excuses, nor can it be delegated; and perhaps even these things might then be pleasant to remember. Better, since impulse is not therefore restrained within any bounds of reason or prejudice. It prompts me not to regard the ideas as mere filling of a dream, but rather to build on them the conception of permanent objects and overruling principles. The images arousing in, fresh, full of light and health and of a kind of frankness and beauty, are prized all the more at such a time because they are not choice, but drawn, for this circumstance makes them a better means of escape not far beneath the surface of conventional life. Certainly, there are indeed very few of the people who do not consider that a peace much above the average is a heavy burden. The worst choice made by one who has no motive in choosing wrong, is better than the best choice made by many who have many motives for not choosing right. Kinda inconclusive - I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;at times gone a pure and &lt;a href="http://vlad-rm-corp.blogspot.com/"&gt;graceful to me man&lt;/a&gt; said “vaya con dios consciousness”&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/20738743-5672616626412293256?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/5672616626412293256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=5672616626412293256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/5672616626412293256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/5672616626412293256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/06/guess-stars-if-theyre-quiet.html' title='guess the stars if they’re quiet'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SGTYwf0XHqI/AAAAAAAAAGU/nuOBbJJO0fE/s72-c/st-london-pavement-fragment.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-3607214511551556885</id><published>2008-06-26T08:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T13:08:29.777+01:00</updated><title type='text'>bigbang</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SGTXshzfSDI/AAAAAAAAAGM/gWzL0yHk0HA/s1600-h/colour-explosion.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216531428390422578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SGTXshzfSDI/AAAAAAAAAGM/gWzL0yHk0HA/s400/colour-explosion.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;happens like this?&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/20738743-3607214511551556885?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/3607214511551556885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=3607214511551556885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3607214511551556885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3607214511551556885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/06/bigbang.html' title='bigbang'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SGTXshzfSDI/AAAAAAAAAGM/gWzL0yHk0HA/s72-c/colour-explosion.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-3518998790695683638</id><published>2008-05-24T08:31:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T17:13:18.652+01:00</updated><title type='text'>What’s your poison?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;conscious iTunes choice: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=Xl_m01lPYmA" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Beatles – I’m so tired&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203977790338303090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SDg-OnwjBHI/AAAAAAAAAF4/0aYizJDbHko/s400/espresso.png" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;“Coffee is real good when you drink it; it gives you time to think. It's a lot more than just a drink; it's something happening. Not as in a hip, but like an event, a place to be, but not like a location, but like somewhere within yourself. It gives you time, but not actual hours or minutes, but a chance to be, like be yourself, and have a second cup. Or maybe more.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, for the early evenings till midnight I still prefer daiquiri. But the proper set, a chamber ensemble. Visions perfect. I give preferences to that poison. And you?&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/20738743-3518998790695683638?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/3518998790695683638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=3518998790695683638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3518998790695683638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3518998790695683638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/05/whats-your-poison.html' title='What’s your poison?'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SDg-OnwjBHI/AAAAAAAAAF4/0aYizJDbHko/s72-c/espresso.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1657251931725856630</id><published>2008-05-20T10:59:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T23:30:37.543+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"outfield" domino play</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SDNKUf4aPtI/AAAAAAAAAFw/uLc3a4TGwo4/s1600-h/blu_eyd_beauty.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202583710558994130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SDNKUf4aPtI/AAAAAAAAAFw/uLc3a4TGwo4/s400/blu_eyd_beauty.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm feeling blue, again. And it feels true. That's where I am standing at. Not sad; just spending a lot of time living within this waywardly scheme. I'm so pleased with the result. It is hard to give a chance to a relationship when one of the partners develops faster than the other one. It is also hard for me to know that my responsability is huge after I learned some things about people. When I’m feeling blue I need affection. I get this from people which I know more or less, always get it from my family and from my friends. I need this feeling as if the world would colapse without it. I realised I work too much, way too much and I am dead tired. Sometimes I get wicked: I might look at somebody like that and I would like him to tell me to stop. But I don’t. Right now I am feeling down. I wanna meet my personal jesus, the mr. perfect as well. I admire the fact that he can make me unsure, that he can give me weird butterflies when he looks at me. They are instinctual body attraction butterflies, intspiring. But blue, as a matter of fact. Because of the distances, because of the case. Some things are better left the way they are, the whole fun would be spoiled. My eyes are as green as it's properly said. As a colour. But sometimes I'm blue. As girl normally do. Sure, I now must keep &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=JjNmnG_Eppk" target="_blank"&gt;singing till someone shuts&lt;/a&gt; my sentiments up! Yup, somebody.&lt;/span&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/20738743-1657251931725856630?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1657251931725856630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1657251931725856630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1657251931725856630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1657251931725856630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/05/domino-play.html' title='&quot;outfield&quot; domino play'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SDNKUf4aPtI/AAAAAAAAAFw/uLc3a4TGwo4/s72-c/blu_eyd_beauty.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-110120751512723692</id><published>2008-04-29T10:12:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T21:02:35.293+01:00</updated><title type='text'>one shot says everything</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SBYrghLfasI/AAAAAAAAAFo/7wqHpeCb2ZI/s1600-h/feet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194387057880820418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SBYrghLfasI/AAAAAAAAAFo/7wqHpeCb2ZI/s400/feet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I’m just a heart in need of rescue - Sofia/2006&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;- that evening we played &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=Y0TEa-Aa4sU"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Chicago&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt; and some Leonard Cohen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;And then - two days later I woke up in London.&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/20738743-110120751512723692?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/110120751512723692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=110120751512723692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/110120751512723692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/110120751512723692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/04/one-shot-says-everything.html' title='one shot says everything'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/SBYrghLfasI/AAAAAAAAAFo/7wqHpeCb2ZI/s72-c/feet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-7785361101621965925</id><published>2008-03-24T11:12:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-03-26T07:17:05.235Z</updated><title type='text'>dangerously close to one another</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/R-n4CluXisI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Z6Hofj8hddI/s1600-h/abnormality.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181945569636485826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/R-n4CluXisI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Z6Hofj8hddI/s400/abnormality.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;One day in the dead of oh-so-called winter, I looked out my back window and something was definitely missing. But why? Spring was singing in the air. Could we just be looking for some love? And I’m left cherishing the memories? If anyone happens to see them, tell this for me: there’s still a light in the window, and a warm cup-o-tea on my desk. Both waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like you’re always busy saving someone or something. An everyday hero. That takes round-the-clock commitment. And then you call it exactly what you want. I know it wll be likely a fight again and again. Some say the tighter your bond with somebody, the greater his need to break away, the more it will hurt. Which starts with posing questions. Few things move as quietly as the future. Dreams come true, without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them. A vision without the ability to execute is probably a hallucination. It’s nice to know that if you want something you can have it, but what you want spiritually, gotta work for. Every inch of the mile. Like right now: this is not an easy gig. - This is what we do. [ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=tBuHP1P_p2c"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;in silent lucidity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&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/20738743-7785361101621965925?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/7785361101621965925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=7785361101621965925' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7785361101621965925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7785361101621965925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/03/dangerously-close-to-one-another.html' title='dangerously close to one another'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/R-n4CluXisI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Z6Hofj8hddI/s72-c/abnormality.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-6158060988274529098</id><published>2008-03-14T10:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-17T17:39:22.203Z</updated><title type='text'>Will you give me a light?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/R96spSXtZbI/AAAAAAAAAFM/dP2EbCBj2dc/s1600-h/ismoke.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178766446828545458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/R96spSXtZbI/AAAAAAAAAFM/dP2EbCBj2dc/s400/ismoke.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I SMOKE (&lt;em&gt;the spirit of smoking&lt;/em&gt;) calendar 2008 by &lt;a href="http://www.andreplessel.com/"&gt;Andre de Plessel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had a cigarette within my fingers so I can smoke away the pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spinful: &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=VrNoDUblAtE"&gt;Leona Lewis – Better In Time&lt;/a&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/20738743-6158060988274529098?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/6158060988274529098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=6158060988274529098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6158060988274529098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6158060988274529098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/03/will-you-give-me-light.html' title='Will you give me a light?'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/R96spSXtZbI/AAAAAAAAAFM/dP2EbCBj2dc/s72-c/ismoke.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-9044143691770660232</id><published>2008-03-04T17:09:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-03-17T17:17:39.841Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='articles'/><title type='text'>Too nice for the top?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;It’s all very well having an understanding nature, but what if your caring, sharing ways are holding you back at work? You have an important meeting at work, and you’re set to impress with a great idea you know your boss will love. You have everyone’s attention – but just as you’re about to start, a solleague interrupts and scts as if it was her idea all along. You’re fuming, but you don’t want to appear rude or petty by butting in. If this sounds familiar, you’re not alone. The majority of women in middle-management think the best way to climb the career ladder is by being polite, sociable and considerate. Questioned women hold very different views about success; factors such as how attractive they are, their popularity and their likeability are known as very important to the senior managers. But really what is counting with the boss are factors such as qualifications, experience and attitude. Being too nice at work is a common female problem – in childhood, most of the women learn to value relationships over winning. This means, in the workplace, women can be hampered by trying to keep everyone happy. Consequently, a woman might not fully claim the credit for her accomplishment. We shouldn’t feel the way to succeed by sacrificing our pleasing personality. There is a difference between niceness and lack of assertiveness – you don’t need to be pushy, lond or aggressive to climb the career ladder and it is wrong to assume the only one who go far in the workplace is the one who act like some more aggressive men. So how do you achieve the fine balance being nice to your colleagues and commanding respect and exuding authority at work? You don’t have to undergo a personality transplant on the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1st problem&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;The idea snatcher&lt;/em&gt; – Your colleagues who are louder, pushier or slightly more senior than you continually pinch the ideas you’ve spent hours working on. Every time you have a bright suggestion at a meeting, they talk over you until everyone believes they were who came up with it. When you have a successful idea while working as a team, another member of the group always manages to take credit for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the solution&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Learn to be the queen of cool&lt;/em&gt; – don’t be intimidated. Acknowledge the part you’ve played in previous successes, even if no one else does. If it helps, make a note of these and keep them to hand – perhaps reading the list before you go into your next meeting. This will boost your confidence so you approach the situation differently and make it harder for others to talk you down. The layout of conference rooms often sets women at an immediate disadvantage, with oversized chairs making them look small and less important. Instead, sit on the edge of your chair, leaning into the table while making eye contact with whoever is speaking. If someone still attempts to butt in, got to look at the speaker who is interrupting and with firm but kind voice just say: “I know you were eager to talk, but I haven’t finished. Here’s what I didn’t get to say…” This way you can draw people’s attention to the initial interruption rather than the one you are forced to make. Another trick is to keep your boss constantly up to date with your progress. If you keep him informed about your accomplishments by email or through memos, then you make it difficult for colleagues to steal your ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2nd problem&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Tantrum control&lt;/em&gt; – You’re in charge of a team of colleagues at work, but you’re too easy-going and a junior employee is taking advantage of your soft nature. You have to get them to work efficiently, yet you want to make sure you don’t lose your temper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the solution&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Punish the problem, not the person&lt;/em&gt; – Show everyone you mean business by focusing on the problem at hand; keep everything concentrated on the missed deadline or the upset client and how to resolve that issue, rather than the performance of the member of staff involved. You will see better results and get the matter resolved much more quickly. Set a team goal, then suggest that the best way of meeting it is if you each put the same amount of effort in. This will make you seem more efficient and focused, and prove – without you having to resort to nastiness – that friendships need not interfere with work. It will also ensure your team feels confident and any criticism is not directed at them personally, thus keeping morale high. But what if a staff member is being really unreasonable? When you’re tempted to lose your temper, try not to. It’s better to live to fight again than to score points and blow your top completely. Play to win in the long term. Even if you’re trembling inside when you’re forced to excert authority, it’s important to appear in control. How you say something can be just as important as what you say. Be aware of the non-verbal messages sent to junior employees. When talking, maintain firm eye contact. If you feel uncertain, then remain standing while talking to the senior employee, rather than sitting down – this claims some power. Use a firm tone of voice, too. Many women lose power by letting words rise at the end of a sentence. It turns a statement into a question and makes you seem less confident. Sound as if you mean it and the job gets done, the boss sees you in control and you avoid confrontations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3rd problem&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;You’re a “yes” woman&lt;/em&gt; – Your boss doesn’t like to be contradicted, so it’s easier to just agree with him/her, even though you know he/she is wrong or that him/her idea won’t work. You may hate for doing it, but you don’t want to upset him/her. After all, he/she is the boss and what he/she says goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the solution&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Widen the realms of possibility&lt;/em&gt; – Remamber, to disagree is to offer a different way of doing things. You’re not saying that your boss’ way will never work. It may help to prepare him/her for your counter agreement gently, by putting some time between his/her proposal andyour reaction to it. You’re doing a disservice to yourself and your boss, if you feel compelled to agree with him/her at all costs. First, you have to work on stopping those agreeable words from coming out too quickly. When he/she presents an idea with which you disagree, buy some thinking time by saying: “I understand what your idea is. I’d like to think about it a little while. I’m not sure I agree with all of it.” Then, after a break, you’ll be prepared for a more appropriate response. Acknowledge him/her enthusiasm for his/her plan and offer suggestions to improve it, rather than attacking the idea on it’s own terms. Even if he/she doesn’t take your oppinion on board, you’ll feel much better for voicing your misgivings. If his/her idea proves to be a failure after all that, he/she may realise it’s worth listening more carefully to you next time around – and you’ll have made your point, without anyone thinking less of you. Mission accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4th problem&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;You’re your worst enemy&lt;/em&gt; – You desperately want to take the reins at work, but everyone around you is beginning to appear much more capable, more confident and more qualified. You’re beginning to consider if you’re good enough for the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the solution&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Don’t be so hard on yourself&lt;/em&gt; – Remember, you got where you are now because the powers that be believed you were the right woman for the job. If it helps, re-read your CV to remember why you applied for the job in the first place. It’s a common problem that women make life difficult for themselves by refusing to recognise their importance in te workplace. If something;s going wrong, don’t assume it’s your fault. Look at the people around you, the system you’re working in and the management structure around you. You’re probably just suffering a temporary blip in confidence. To combat it, make a note of the role you’ve played in previous successes at work and read it whenever you’re tempted to take the blame. Finally, think twice before putting yourself down and remember – if you don’t believe you deserve to be treated with respect, you probably won’t be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5th problem&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;You can’t say No&lt;/em&gt; – You came in early because your in-tray’s already weighed down with work and you’ve cancelled your night out to catch up. Yet you’ve just accepted another major task that needs finishing for tomorrow and promised a colleague to take on a job she doesn’t fancy doing to help her out. The word “no” just doesn’t seem to be in your vocabulary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the solution&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Be a giver not a taker&lt;/em&gt; – First, break the cycle of acceptance you’ve fallen into. Don’t be afraid to take regular holidays to prevent burnout. And don’t let anyone stress you out while you are away. On your return, start afresh. We often believe saying “no” means people will think less of us and believe we’re not capable of what the job requires. This isn’t the case. Bosses don’t remember acts of kindness at promotion time. They remember who gets the job done. So, ifyou’re helping everyone else out, taking on more work than it’s possible to complete, it won’t be you. You have to learn to resist the “British” disease of saying “yes” to everything. It’s the worst trap you can fall into. Even if you begin by saying “no” to one project a week, you’ll be amazed at the difference it makes. No one can expect you to do everything, so don’t feel you’re letting people down. Instead say: “I’d like to help, but unfortunately I wouldn’t be able to give the appropriate time and attention to the job.” Then get to work on clearing your own in-tray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.managementtoday.co.uk/" target="_blank"&gt;Management Today&lt;/a&gt; magazine shows in a research that women managers are more truthful, considerate and appreciative than their male counterparts. They boost morale and productivity by praising workers and promoting teamwork, and they are better at customer relations. That’s how you can cash in on your gender:&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Keep morale high&lt;/em&gt;: good managers keep everyone feeling good about what each person’s doing.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Be understanding&lt;/em&gt;: use emphatic assertion to put yourself in the other person’s shoes before making any statements.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Be reasonable&lt;/em&gt;: don’t let yourself be seen as everyone’s mother. Set limits on how available you are to everyone to take care of their problems.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Give positive feedback&lt;/em&gt;: this includes pointing out colleadues’ strengths as well as areas for growth.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Be ready to listen&lt;/em&gt;: be open to hearing the opinion of everyone, rather than taking a dictatorial approach. &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/20738743-9044143691770660232?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/9044143691770660232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=9044143691770660232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/9044143691770660232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/9044143691770660232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2004/03/too-nice-for-top.html' title='Too nice for the top?'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-3319764005934343157</id><published>2008-02-21T09:44:00.008Z</published><updated>2008-02-21T10:03:33.495Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time after time'/><title type='text'>misty veils are blue drawn silky shades</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169368158074246146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/R71I84c7FAI/AAAAAAAAAEU/CtxUtY99gTI/s400/stella-dream.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt; i heard one say: you don't have to be always right – you don't have to go in alone&lt;br /&gt;(it's all true that because) &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=EdSAsjNoSZM" target="_blank"&gt;sometimes&lt;/a&gt; you can't do it on your own &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I love the variety, but always ending up back the lucky row of contributing an inspiring options, is incredibly down-to-earth and (non)wanted. It’s like fascinating private exploration of the inner states how far we go, while still be one heck of a girl, claiming for a little fun. My aim is to promote understanding and tolerance between, on the ground level. However, I’m determined that something positive should come out of the primitive evil. I also feel fear, isolation and shame; in many areas of my life I’m carefree and confident. Life has always had to do battle with the elements – so it makes sense to choose both winning or losing, and facing the rain when it’s raining – or shine to the helping hands, being given. The city is no longer a glided cage or a prison, it’s where you can unleash your femininity &amp;amp; right all the wrongs of the day – although the very technological, masculine environments, so there’s a huge shift away from any kind of minimalist masculine decorating – because that’s too much like work obsession – with being judged by our peers; gravity-defying measure. Must completely go out the window. No more sense and simplicity ~ most of us associate each other as seductive personalities, procreative and enthusiastic. But being lonely &amp;amp; single can be somehow scary, exciting &amp;amp; ultimately, liberating experience; can be really nervous in case no one is interesting due to logic, steeped in prejudice; can be terrifying moment every inch of the way. The hardest time is Sunday, when I think of people having cosy, smooth and silky days in. Having dug myself into a hole, I’m yet not sure if I’ll know how to get apart and out of it; well, I can imagine myself wanting to settle down and have some confidence but, in the meantime, I’m just experiencing both sides of the life. Even if it take another turnover to be next to the right person, I’m happy to wait. No matter what is said or done in the meantime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to reality. It’s raining (again) and it’s foggy (again), but the weather doesn’t matter – as this is emotional time, having similar feelings recently with similar thoughts in mind, and it seems appropriate to put those feelings into words, whether recent events has changed the outlook on life and whether any change have made a result. Got to be a great believer in the power of a gaze held for a second too long – it’s a shortcut to intimacy; about breaking down barriers, even if just for a few moments. It can be a look, a light caress or even laughing at the same joke on the phone. It is very touchy, full of innuendo and you love it. In general, though, it’s harmless way of letting off steam without actually being unfaitful or even wanting to be. But there’s a fine line between a light touch and making someone feel invaded or threatened by the presence. Basically, you learn where that line is through experience and you don’t cross it, give as good as you get – when it’s just a bit of fun and, who knows, it could lead to something special. I’m never short of things to say. While I adore a good natter, I like to think that I’m a pretty listener, too. Being interested in other people comes naturally to me. It’s partly because of my job, partly because of my behaviour but mostly because of my personality. That’s why some confidence comes in handy. It gives people the perfect excuse to break the ice. I suppose there’s no substitute for spending tiime with the people who are close you. Who will you inspire today? Give yourself a goal. You need to decide how you’re going to do it; plan how to achieve it. Successful people manage their lives, it helps you stay on track. This means making lists of possible things you want to achieve over different time frames. The mindset is to believe in yourself, despite the odds; the mantra – if you know it’s impossible, do it. Just enhance your self-belief; become a risk-taker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/"&gt;Stella&lt;/a&gt; (of the wreckoning)&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/20738743-3319764005934343157?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/3319764005934343157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=3319764005934343157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3319764005934343157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3319764005934343157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-heard-one-say-you-dont-have-to-be.html' title='misty veils are blue drawn silky shades'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/R71I84c7FAI/AAAAAAAAAEU/CtxUtY99gTI/s72-c/stella-dream.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-7521797445833097609</id><published>2008-01-20T11:42:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-02-21T09:51:25.545Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time after time'/><title type='text'>The Man’s Man</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;(some scenes of a memory) “He was tired. So tired, he barely picks his feet up as he walks across the room and throws himself into a chair. His head slumps forward briefly as he takes a breath and scrunches his face into both hands, before looking up to reveal dark shadows beneath his smoky green eyes. He stifles a yawn and, for a moment, looks too exhausted even to speak. And then he flashes a smile – the kind of roguish smile that instantly explains how he’s ravaged with the exhaustion, initially looking quite ordinary. But you catch a glimpse of a briefly sigh, you hear his slow, gravelly voice, which sounds like he’s just out of bed, you see the lines crinkle around his magnetic eyes as he laughs, you catch moments of his streetwise wit, deference to his teenage days – and you know He is rather special.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your key words are gamekeeper, corduroy, muscle tone and anything else that brings to mind a young hero who never says anything at all. It’s another truism that you never know what you’ve got till it’s gone – but that’s the beauty of the situation. Ambitious &amp;amp; idle – enormously attractive and, as broad brush strokes, it still pretty much sum up the perfectly formed wish out the society. Where you find a prejudice, you find a strong sense of personal identity. And whatever you find out of those, goddamit, you find it amaizingly interesting, deadly attractive. He’s man of stone, will have the torso of a young god, the interior life of a tortured genious and a spoken vocabulary of about a whole academy. It’s amistery, but when he’s hone you do understand why a person might throw away her entire life to see him again just once. Or a few times more. Anybody can have muscles, anyone can say a little, but it takes a man’s man to turn silence into such work of art, to make it look so deep, that it hurts. A lot. He’s a stranger to any vanity; he shies away from the large gatherings. The unreconstructed male might sound like a nuisance, in so for as he’ll (maybe) never do the washing – up or dauge the nappies. But then if you have a dishwasher and no children, you can dispense with carping and whining and instead concentrate on how fabulous he is. The Man’s Man specialises in standing-up way, drinking while never seeming drunk, catching girls who are about to fall over and looking surely; he will run through women like they’re burning a hole in his clothes. That hurts, too. But, this is a key – having found the right one, will not mess about. The natural air of authority is guaranteed. I think it’s because there’s no male accessory on earth sexier than a spirit level. It’s more an attitude than a set of skills, with a top note of grown-up-itude and independence that prevents him from just being plain childish and annoying. Two words define him: mighty fine. The Man’s Man is also a bad boy, apparently. It’s not a secret that a good girl loves a bad boy, isn’t it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;stella&lt;/strong&gt;: ‘Ello, mate! You’ve got a bit of a smile in this day, I suppose?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;vlad&lt;/strong&gt;: Well, you know how it goes. When it rains, it pours. When it doesn’t, you just have to sit back and chill – I’m good at doing nothing, too. Just smiling…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-7521797445833097609?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/7521797445833097609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=7521797445833097609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7521797445833097609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7521797445833097609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/01/mans-man.html' title='The Man’s Man'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1096665266581673652</id><published>2008-01-05T22:02:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-02-15T22:22:35.861Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='articles'/><title type='text'>How to catch a dream?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You can fulfill yours, too – whatever they are.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1&lt;/strong&gt;.) &lt;strong&gt;Identify your dream&lt;/strong&gt; – Sometimes people get confused and think they don’t know what they want to achieve. We all know what our dreams are, but what’s important is to identify the essence of them. For instance, if since the age of eight, you’ve wanted to be a ballet dancer but you’re now over twenty and know might not make it as the lead on a first-class show, don’t give up. What excited you about being a dancer in the first place? Was it the need to perform? If it was, channel that need into something else – maybe part of the public sphere. I suggest you ask yourself a few pointed questions to help identify your dreams. Ask yourself what you regret not having done in life. Do you regret not travelling? Do you regret not going to college? Then ask yourself what it was that stopped you doing it – like money or your age? Then think if any of these obstacles can realistically be overcome – are you really too old to go travelling at the age of your own? Questioning yourself like this will bring out your real aspirations and dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2&lt;/strong&gt;.) &lt;strong&gt;Set your dreams in motion&lt;/strong&gt; – One of the best ways of getting your dreams into motion is writing them down. Get a piece of paper, some pens or pencils and sketch out exactly what it is you would like to achieve. It could be a relationship you want or job – sketch out what you need to do to achieve it. Note down the money, qualifications and phone numbers of organizations that could help you. Get together (if possible) three or four friends who are also trying to set their dreams in motion and meet (again, if possible) once a month to give each other support. They’ll help you with decision making and motivation. People who get their dreams up and running do it with the right support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3&lt;/strong&gt;.) &lt;strong&gt;Stick with your dreams&lt;/strong&gt; – Accept that if you want to lead an exciting life, then setbacks are part of the deal. If one does occur don’t let it shatter your confidence – keep sight of your dreams. It’s useful to have an image of what the dream will be like once it is achieved. Visualise yourself in your new life – think about it every time you feel like giving up. Making positive affirmations are suggested. Tell yourself “I’m a winner” or “my life is getting better” – and you should avoid criticising yourself; it always leads to failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4&lt;/strong&gt;.) &lt;strong&gt;How to keep your dreams&lt;/strong&gt; – Don’t move the good posts. The problem is, when your dream has become a reality, you begin to think that if you did it anybody can do it – and you see it as ordinary. But this is so wrong. Instead try and recognise your achievment and celebrate it. If you don’t, you may be in danger of losing it. Sadly, most of the pleasure in even major achievments means off after a couple months. Set your sights on something new – it’s all about staying involved and striding onwards and upwards.&lt;/span&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/20738743-1096665266581673652?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1096665266581673652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1096665266581673652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1096665266581673652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1096665266581673652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-to-catch-dream.html' title='How to catch a dream?'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1355726831205533685</id><published>2007-11-14T01:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-13T14:03:53.855Z</updated><title type='text'>frosty morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Rzmtu1ph1WI/AAAAAAAAAEE/mAl5_ezVUes/s1600-h/black+sheep.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132324270552241506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Rzmtu1ph1WI/AAAAAAAAAEE/mAl5_ezVUes/s400/black+sheep.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;i hope you're feeling happy now; i see you feel no pain at all it seems; i wonder what you're doin' now, i wonder if you think of me at all; do you still play the same moves now or are those special moods for someone else; i hope you're feeling happy now. just because you look good doesn't make you right; just because you feel good, still want you here tonight. does laughter still discover you, i see through all the smiles that look so right; do you still have the same friends now to smoke away your problems and your life, oh how do you remember me - the one that made you laugh until you cried, i wonder what &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lnv47orMiUs" target="_blank"&gt;you're doinng now&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&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/20738743-1355726831205533685?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1355726831205533685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1355726831205533685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1355726831205533685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1355726831205533685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/11/frosty-morning.html' title='frosty morning'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Rzmtu1ph1WI/AAAAAAAAAEE/mAl5_ezVUes/s72-c/black+sheep.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-3038945028341023793</id><published>2007-11-08T10:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-09T10:56:40.928Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>i da foliram sve</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130791452558873922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RzQ7pFph1UI/AAAAAAAAAD0/SbN9lny9nH4/s400/Clipboard04.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Do you ever wish to be someone, or something, else? Have you ever wanted to express a part of yourself that the everyday world doesn't even know exists? If so, then you already know why masks have been a fixture of human society since it began. Why they can be found in every culture on earth. Why the masquerade is such a romantic form of entertainment. Masks can change who you are, or how others see you. They let you express yourself without fear of exposure. They are a doorway to your inner self, a glimpse into your dreams. The art of the face is one of the oldest, and most elemental. Masks have served many purposes throughout history. They have been used as symbols in story telling, they have been used in religion, In some cultures the masks themselves are believed to be alive. But, we all wear masks. Everyday. When we change a mood, or play a role, or put our "best foot forward". Sometimes these masks can trap us, hide who we really are, even from ourselves. But masks can reveal as much as they conceal. And that is the secret to their fascination. So come &amp;amp; join the masquerade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;absolutno jenska: &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;ziv se covek na sve navikne pa valja cu ja, ako Bog da, ako Bog da, da se pravim da me ne vreda kad odgurnes me, da spasem bar to sto spasti se da, da te ne pitam s kim svaku provodis noc i sto ne spavamo kao pre. dobrodosli drugovi na nasu malu maskaradu, i da se goli skinemo ostace nam&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=CKgiYaqVVOs"&gt;nase maske&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&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/20738743-3038945028341023793?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/3038945028341023793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=3038945028341023793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3038945028341023793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3038945028341023793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-da-foliram-sve.html' title='i da foliram sve'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RzQ7pFph1UI/AAAAAAAAAD0/SbN9lny9nH4/s72-c/Clipboard04.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-9126728969825638346</id><published>2007-10-26T20:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T15:01:16.568+01:00</updated><title type='text'>- the cold and wind and rain don't know -</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RyHxoF95t3I/AAAAAAAAADs/_4DF9CeP8EY/s1600-h/firework.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125643522023208818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RyHxoF95t3I/AAAAAAAAADs/_4DF9CeP8EY/s400/firework.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;How many special people change? How many lives are living strange? Where were you while we were getting high? Slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannonball. Where were you while we were getting high? Someday you will find me, caught beneath the landslide; in a champagne supernova in the sky. Someday you will find me caught beneath the landslide in a champagne supernova, a champagne supernova in the sky. Wake up the dawn and ask her why a dreamer dreams, she never dies; wipe that tear away now from your eye. Slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannonball. Where were you while we were getting high? 'Cuz we don't believe that they're gonna get away from the summer but you and I will never die. The world's still spinning around we don't know why. How many special people change? How many lives are living strange? Where were you while we were getting high? Slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannonball. Where were you while we were getting high? Someday you will find me caught beneath the landslide in a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g3C7DECI0jU" target="_blank"&gt;champagne supernova&lt;/a&gt; in the sky. (i'm on you)&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/20738743-9126728969825638346?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/9126728969825638346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=9126728969825638346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/9126728969825638346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/9126728969825638346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/10/cold-and-wind-and-rain-dont-know.html' title='- the cold and wind and rain don&apos;t know -'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RyHxoF95t3I/AAAAAAAAADs/_4DF9CeP8EY/s72-c/firework.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-4127910777374712660</id><published>2007-10-14T09:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T04:37:57.404+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>slidin and glidin</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121025185124236674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RxGJRgUovYI/AAAAAAAAADk/T3hO1yjmh4w/s400/ghost_on_bench_beaches.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;tease me please me no one needs to know just before i have to go we will take it nice and slow tease me please me just let the feeling grow&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;nights been sad and lonely&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;since you &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9h6zAfb8b24" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;sang to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and all the same anticipation in mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Through this tiny window, I try to search for a corner of my own. I yearned to seek out the peace that I never am able to find in reality. Real peace and comfort that I can be who I am, safe, free and protected from the noises that I experienced in reality. And yet, as much as I traveled far and wide into strange kingdoms, met interesting people and got caught into strange situations, I have yet to find the solace that I so crave for. No peace, no comfort, no silence. I always believe that everyone has a guardian angel, one who will protect her and who will guide her along the right path. However, it seems that most of our guardian angels are either lost themselves or my belief is just imaginary. I always believe that we should be positive about life and remain optimistic that at the end of the tunnel, there will be light, no matter how gray or how dark your days are, there is always that glimpse of light. Yet, I have always been proven that the tunnel is so darn long and that my glimpse of light is so far away and so dim. I may as well be running around in circles in my long and dark tunnel and should give up any hope of ever reaching my glimpse of light. I have always believe that as you swim upwards long enough, no matter how far the distance is, you will definitely reach the surface and you can finally take a deep breathe, one that will free you from your suffocation. That much needed breathe of life, and you will no longer suffocate anymore, freed from the pulls of the murky water underneath. But then again, the swim upwards to the surface seems to be taking forever. It seems like the more I struggle, the more I am sucked under into the depths below and the surface is further and further away from my reach. I just cannot seem to go upwards, to breath that much needed breathe of life. I seem to be forever chained to my suffocation and will never be able to reach salvation at all. Who is there to guide me to that glimpse of light in my tunnel of darkness? Who is there to pull me to the surface and free me from my chains of suffocation? Where is my guardian angel I've been looking for so goddamn long? Have you ever needed someone so bad? *&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;sigh&lt;/span&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/20738743-4127910777374712660?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/4127910777374712660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=4127910777374712660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/4127910777374712660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/4127910777374712660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/10/slidin-and-glidin.html' title='slidin and glidin'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RxGJRgUovYI/AAAAAAAAADk/T3hO1yjmh4w/s72-c/ghost_on_bench_beaches.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-962527913169391720</id><published>2007-10-05T15:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-05T15:15:41.849+01:00</updated><title type='text'>miles and miles</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/D3M6KwCuLdg" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;"&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Funny how things just tasted better when we were young; funny how things just seemed so easy when we were young - it's been a long day. I wanna get out, I wanna go home, is anything better than you on the phone. I think that we weren't always grateful for what you've done when we were young; we've come a long, long way. And you on the phone.&lt;/span&gt;" - &lt;a href="http://vlad-rm-corp.blogspot.com/2007/10/sinister-regret.html" target="_blank"&gt;reiteration&lt;/a&gt; but contemporary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;refrain remains in you&lt;/em&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/20738743-962527913169391720?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/962527913169391720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=962527913169391720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/962527913169391720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/962527913169391720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/10/miles-and-miles.html' title='miles and miles'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-4310677684078155798</id><published>2007-09-26T08:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T08:01:14.939+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>green eyes : gentle hands</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;Днес пак случайно си спомних пейката, там където се спрях. Днес пак си спомням за близко-далечни отминали дни. Днес нищо още не считам за свършено и забравено, макар и с &lt;a href="http://classiclit.about.com/library/bl-etexts/hwlongfellow/bl-hwl-day2.htm" target="_blank"&gt;тъга на сърцето&lt;/a&gt; - мойта тъга. Далеч си, треперещо галещо въздишащо копнея. Поне с усмивка ме прегърни.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-4310677684078155798?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/4310677684078155798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=4310677684078155798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/4310677684078155798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/4310677684078155798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/09/green-eyes-gentle-hands.html' title='green eyes : gentle hands'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-7298548705244805234</id><published>2007-09-15T08:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T08:02:08.152+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>carry one</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iZiXqZWAFzA" width="408" height="336" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;it's not my style : not my favourite : not my page one - but heartrending : carry one gorgeous : hope springs eternal half-awake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;i don't want clever conversation&lt;br /&gt;i never want to work that hard&lt;br /&gt;i just want someone that I can talk to&lt;br /&gt;i want you just the way you are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-7298548705244805234?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/7298548705244805234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=7298548705244805234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7298548705244805234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7298548705244805234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/09/carry-one.html' title='carry one'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1970854438470556605</id><published>2007-09-09T08:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T08:02:24.398+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='articles'/><title type='text'>sunset in time</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108015107077463634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RuNQrSyuXlI/AAAAAAAAAC4/pNGE-jX1sRo/s400/sunset+b%26w.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;The sunkissed sounds of balmy nights and summer breezes, smoky lounges and sandy beaches are bended together. Man has lived a long time the way he has lived - human nature is eternal. Therefore, one who follows his nature keeps his original nature, in the end. Living in a world full of confusion, is like living in a world full of lies, full of disappointments, and a world of nothing but illusions; being trapped into a world like this, a fear of never being able to find that way out, the only door that leads to the way out, just so conveniently always seems to be lost. Wishing that you could disappear and hide yourself from all the pain that is caused in this world, hide yourself from the lies, the hates and your own thoughts is to find the balance - but better search and sincerely plead for hope. Each day goes by slowly; I try to be creative with time. But I know not every opportunity is for me to grab. What was it like for us to wait? What did we do while we were waiting? What thoughts went through our mind? I look at my family and friends and I realize that they are waiting, for me to give them my time and undivided attention. While I am dreaming about big things in life, I see what (or who) is more important – people, who need to be touched, known, and heard. Only the prepared will overcome the trials and temptations. We are never to lose compassion and care for others, even if they are miles or oceans away from us. All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated. As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness. No man is an island, entire of itself; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. Time goes by fast. Sometimes I get panicky thinking about how I spend each day. When I wake up in the morning, I wonder how I will spend that day. When I go to sleep, I look back and wonder what I’ve done on that day. I had much to do each day and spent it without much thinking. I knew I was moving upward, making progress. I feel as though I need to be out there, doing something for the humanity as well. But I have to remind myself being proceeds doing. What I do will never give me a sense of who I am. That’s not me anyway. I am much deeper than what others perceive me as; even before I try to make my name known in the world or to leave my footprint. No one can tell me that I am invalid because I am and not do. Because I am present in this world, the world is already a different place. Although I might not be doing something fantastic out there, my silence and quietitude do make a difference. My slowing down protests this fast-paced, work and achievement-driven society. Sometimes you get a better glimpse of your world when you step out of it. Many things you thought were of utmost importance might not be as important as you think. Also we might be able to look at ourselves more clearly, because all our masks are down. There is nothing like human words that can either throw one into despair or revive one’s soul. But as I struggle each day to find hope and comfort, I am beginning to understand the verses. Fear is a powerful force. It can paralyze us or empower us to do something we can’t possibly imagine doing with a rational mind. Fear is the absence of security. And living in an insecure world, we know what fear feels like. Fear grips us. The sense of peace is nowhere to be found. In the minds of the fearful we are always the victims. The aggressors are out there to get us. We feel we have to defend ourselves at any cost. It is ironic that we have to buy guns to protect ourselves against gun violence. Our sense of moral superiority is another protection against our fear. In this unpredictable, chaotic world we’d like to believe that we are on the good side. I wonder how many of us truly live a hopeful life each day. We can look forward to different things as we face a new day – meeting someone, eating meals, accomplishing something you wanted. But if your life is like mine and today is not much different from yesterday and tomorrow will be not much different from today, we need something beyond our mundane life to keep us going – hope. Not expecations but hope. Hope is the borometer of our spiritual welbeing, I believe. A well-nurtured and grounded spirit is hopeful, regardless of the cirumstances one is in. Emptiness and despair are the opposite of hope. As we have seen, a hopeless soul is destructive not only to oneself but to others. But a hopeful one revives not only oneself but can resucitate others as well. Advent is a time of inner searching, when hope, anticipation and introspection are active in our souls. Perhaps my creativity will come in when I put my effort in connecting with others more meaningfully, when I offer my help in my brokenness, insecurity and doubts to others who are making the same journey. Perhaps the opportune time is here and now. It is up to us how we make of it; or even make it better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108018160799211106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RuNTdCyuXmI/AAAAAAAAADA/GgpqOCBBZMM/s400/panorama+b%26w.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;People who like to travel can't wait to put themselves into the role of the wanderer, the visitor, the stranger passing through, and, sometimes, unfortunately, the victim. I have no idea why, but I am one of those people. It's just that, having done it, I get this incredible rush – a feeling of accomplishment completely absent from my suburban roots - discovering real people, real cultures and having incredible real life experiences along the way. Probably anyone knows the exciting feeling when you are thinking and planning a new trip to some distant places. If you believe in what you are doing, then let nothing hold you up. Much of the best things of the world has been done against seeming impossibilities. The thing is to get it done for real.&lt;/span&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/20738743-1970854438470556605?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1970854438470556605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1970854438470556605' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1970854438470556605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1970854438470556605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/09/sunset-in-time.html' title='sunset in time'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RuNQrSyuXlI/AAAAAAAAAC4/pNGE-jX1sRo/s72-c/sunset+b%26w.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-3560703757132064901</id><published>2007-09-01T10:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T08:03:14.130+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><title type='text'>more in this dance</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105293278927806002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RtmlMCyuXjI/AAAAAAAAACo/f70ZpmRQDfk/s400/Clipboard04.bmp" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Step through the door who sits there on the far side, awaiting? My attempt to heal I connect to what in them is human or broken. I on this door side with my fears and powerful knowledge of pain - not theirs but mine. And so I open the door and step in. They sit inside the door undressed or clothed on the chair or table, alone or with the loved one they want me to touch, what? Their body, their soul, their mutual or solitary pain and make it gone. And I must face them - human, alone but maybe we can come together and know their pain on one side of the door. I step through the door ad she wants the drugs tat have been too freely given. I step through the door ad they expect me to be smeone from long before. I step through the door and his fear is greater then my best salesman's smile. I step through the door and the child is the tortured parents offering. I step through the door and I am not who they want me to be. I step through the door and their pain is mine, they give it freely. I step through the door and I know the source and I can drain the abscess - inject the joint, reduce the fracture, prescribe the drug, be all things, all-knowing - wise, powerful, competent. I step through the door and they love me for who I am not now; nor ever will be. I step through the door and the time is short; and then we pull apart like I should never have come. I step through the door twenty or more times each day. A new person each time; sometimes met before, but they were then - not now and I am today me, who I am - to meet and greet this new search we both shall take together as we renew to be the pair of lost and suffering souls in such a pitifull world of pain. Can I come through that door and be the gift of everlasting joy, of peace and solace, of painless life that has been promised? But they have forgotten that such is not the case. So we sit across from each other after the door has closed and we two in this room - try to come together and know that one human is able to reach out and touch another in just the simple light and presence of love. But they are full of their days burden and the next room's door awaits me. Will we be reduced to the simple scribbled words on the small sheet with illegible and latin insignia of care? When there could be a less toxic and costly way to touch and show we really know one another? ...to care, to touch, to cure, to heal - before we both must separately go back through the door.&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/20738743-3560703757132064901?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/3560703757132064901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=3560703757132064901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3560703757132064901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3560703757132064901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/09/more-in-this-dance.html' title='more in this dance'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RtmlMCyuXjI/AAAAAAAAACo/f70ZpmRQDfk/s72-c/Clipboard04.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-6457207435005156988</id><published>2007-08-31T11:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T12:15:53.315+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>autumn ~ on my knees</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105189392258850338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RtlGtCyuXiI/AAAAAAAAACg/IBA20MUGVtY/s400/Autumn_Morning.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;It soothes the soul. It makes the world go round. Forgiveness is letting go of the pain and accepting what has happened, because it will not change. Forgiveness is dismissing the blame. Choices were made that caused the hurt; we each could have chosen differently, but we didn’t. Forgiveness is looking at the pain, learning the lessons it has produced, and understanding what we have learned. Forgiveness allows us to move on towards a better understanding of universal love and our true purpose. Forgiveness is knowing that love is the answer to all questions, and that we all are in some way connected. Forgiveness is starting over, with the knowledge that we have gained. I hope we can do just the same as it is. Some closed doors are a blessing; so if you're waiting for tomorrow, why not do it all right now? If tomorrow never comes, you'll have no regrets about today. If you are sad, who comes to your mind first? As long as you believe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;it's autumn &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3XtgubV4tw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;nostalgia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - can't stop falling&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-6457207435005156988?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/6457207435005156988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=6457207435005156988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6457207435005156988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6457207435005156988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/08/there-autumn.html' title='autumn ~ on my knees'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RtlGtCyuXiI/AAAAAAAAACg/IBA20MUGVtY/s72-c/Autumn_Morning.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-7403183309844001497</id><published>2007-08-26T10:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T08:03:50.261+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='texts'/><title type='text'>dissect me to find out how it works</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RtPyVSyuXhI/AAAAAAAAACY/cIWJM7ZzMK8/s1600-h/stella-parliament.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103689250376670738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RtPyVSyuXhI/AAAAAAAAACY/cIWJM7ZzMK8/s400/stella-parliament.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Going out in &lt;em&gt;London&lt;/em&gt;? If you had one wish - what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;Come on baby, when will you see - That you and I were meant to be&lt;br /&gt;And now I got my target on track - Baby you should know that I'm so good at that&lt;br /&gt;And this world's not big enough - For you to hide for long&lt;br /&gt;In this game of &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfUBdgQtjn4" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;hide and seek&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - There's nowhere left to run&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;The power of love is a curious thing: make a one man weep, make another man sing; change a hawk to a little white dove; more than a feeling: that's the power of love. Tougher than diamonds, rich like cream; stronger and harder than a bad girls dream - make a bad one good, make a wrong one right - power of love that keeps you home at night. First time you feel it - it might make you sad; next time you feel it - it might make you mad; but you'll be glad baby when you've found - that's the power makes the world goround. (&lt;em&gt;Can you feel it ?&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-7403183309844001497?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/7403183309844001497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=7403183309844001497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7403183309844001497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7403183309844001497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/08/dissect-me-to-find-out-how-it-works.html' title='dissect me to find out how it works'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RtPyVSyuXhI/AAAAAAAAACY/cIWJM7ZzMK8/s72-c/stella-parliament.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-6143147772686161537</id><published>2007-08-05T09:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T08:04:24.335+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><title type='text'>1926 / 1962</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095026297751135362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RrUrbFa65II/AAAAAAAAACM/YP6GVkbUniI/s400/marilyn-monroe-020.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marilyn_Monroe" target="_blank"&gt;Norma Jeane Mortenson&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt; - &lt;strong&gt;Marilyn Monroe&lt;/strong&gt; - actress, singer, celebrity, sex symbol, nominee, genuine lady, model and pop icon, female impressionistic doll, delicate tinge, miracle of grace, golden blonde, star, bijoux&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;and one more thing - a legend&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/20738743-6143147772686161537?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/6143147772686161537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=6143147772686161537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6143147772686161537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6143147772686161537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/08/1926-1962.html' title='1926 / 1962'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RrUrbFa65II/AAAAAAAAACM/YP6GVkbUniI/s72-c/marilyn-monroe-020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-7475035359327238209</id><published>2007-07-30T15:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T15:57:47.173+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visions'/><title type='text'>spotlight miniatures</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093374607947916386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Rq9NOFa65GI/AAAAAAAAAB8/dYOPKKFfN10/s400/x-she+was+crying.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;it says: she was crying&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/20738743-7475035359327238209?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/7475035359327238209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=7475035359327238209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7475035359327238209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/7475035359327238209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/07/spotlight.html' title='spotlight miniatures'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Rq9NOFa65GI/AAAAAAAAAB8/dYOPKKFfN10/s72-c/x-she+was+crying.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-8598937846114539178</id><published>2007-07-24T08:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T15:58:39.775+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='articles'/><title type='text'>stormy weather</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090669100673983570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RqWwk1a65FI/AAAAAAAAAB0/54etnq7o3as/s400/ENG1BWB~London-B-W-Posters.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Have you ever had a dream that you think is so real that when you wake up it takes a few minutes to convince yourself that it was only a dream? It is so easy through any period of turmoil or severe weather conditions, to believe that it will never end, and that the storm will not pass. Well, it does, and it will. Awareness and safety are key. When storm clouds gather on the horizon, it's not foolish to batten down the hatches, and prepare. Life is a sea of changes, and each one of us are sailors riding the waves. Like life, the sea may not be fair, but when damaged by the storm we can rebuild and heal. If we see fellow sailors in distress, we must reach out and cast a line; you never know when you may need the same. We may all sail our own individual ships, still, we are all part of the armada of souls, searching for a safe port. Yet, the normal folks are beginning to have a hard time distinguishing science fiction from real life - the fine line between both is starting to fade. Trouble always seems like "someone else's problem" until it arrives at our own front door. There are many things in life that we don't have control over, but our perception of them, we do. This perception affects our state of mind and in doing so, we choose whether to rejoice in the light, or lurk in the shadows. It never ceases to amaze me how two people can look at the same picture and come away with two totally opposite viewpoints of what their eyes have seen. Interpretation is incorporated into just about everything we encounter in life. The affects of these interpretations place us on an emotional scale where joy and freedom sits at the top, and fear and despair reigns at the bottom. Whether we choose it or not, we accept a belief system to live by. The learning of life is the ultimate art. So many express it in so many ways. The imperfections of Humanity may not be expected to get it totally right, but they are expected to try. Each generation is expected to become better than the previous. We are supposed to perch on the shoulders of those who came before, until one day we can see the clouds of heaven. There can be no art, if we are not learning, and there can be no learning, if we have no art. Through stormy weather, just when we feel lost, out of the dark cuts the beams of light from the lighthouse - rays of hope, that can bring us to shore. No matter how dark the day, rest assured, there is always the light that says we are never alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=ROD4OLJijkk" target="_blank"&gt;one plus one will always equals two&lt;/a&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/20738743-8598937846114539178?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/8598937846114539178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=8598937846114539178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/8598937846114539178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/8598937846114539178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/07/plain-text.html' title='stormy weather'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RqWwk1a65FI/AAAAAAAAAB0/54etnq7o3as/s72-c/ENG1BWB~London-B-W-Posters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-8234641963918070085</id><published>2007-07-06T08:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T07:07:50.040+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='texts'/><title type='text'>an anticipation for precipitation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;You had my heart and we'll never be world apart. Maybe in magazines - but you'll still be my star. Baby cause in the dark you can see shiny cars and that's when you need me there with you I'll always share, because... when the sun shines - we'll shine together; told you I'll be here forever, that I'll always be your friend; took an oath - I'mma stick it out 'till the end, now that it's raining more than ever, know that we still have each other - you can stand under my umbrella. These fancy things will never come in between, you're part of my entity here for infinity. When the war has took it's part, when the world has dealt it's cards if the hand is hard, together we'll mend your heart, because... when the sun shines - we'll shine together; told you I'll be here forever, that I'll always be your friend; took an oath - I'mma stick it out 'till the end, now that it's raining more than ever, know that we still have each other - you can stand under my umbrella. You can run into my arms, it's okay don't be alarmed. Come into me. So gonna let the rain pour - I'll be &lt;strong&gt;all you need and more&lt;/strong&gt;, because... when the sun shines - we'll shine together; told you I'll be here forever, that I'll always be your friend; took an oath - I'mma stick it out 'till the end, now that it's raining more than ever, know that we still have each other - you can stand under my umbrella.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083957873985653490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Ro3YwBv3CvI/AAAAAAAAABs/DYkFcreG7x0/s400/girl-umbrellabw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-8234641963918070085?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/8234641963918070085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=8234641963918070085' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/8234641963918070085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/8234641963918070085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/07/anticipation-for-precipitation.html' title='an anticipation for precipitation'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Ro3YwBv3CvI/AAAAAAAAABs/DYkFcreG7x0/s72-c/girl-umbrellabw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-3613091592511075105</id><published>2007-07-05T10:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T19:29:36.131+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><title type='text'>tough people don't cry</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 0px 0px; WIDTH: 165px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1408/732045301_b088216e30_m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I cry easily and regularly. It runs in the family, all of us cry, not over being physically hurt but mostly about emotional things. I cry when I watch the news sometimes because the suffering I see is so upsetting. I can't watch anything about what's happening to the people in war without crying. I cry when I think about the fact that my dog can barely see or hear and won't be with me much longer. I sometimes shed tears of joy. None of this has anything to do with a man's true inner strength. It's partly genetic, partly cultural, partly the quirks of personality, but there are very tough men who cry and plenty of wimps who cry too. I cry all the time, I'm crying right now. It takes a lot of emotion for me to cry, so it's not that I think it not up to par to cry. It just takes a lot to get me that far (people are different). I don't cry all that often, but certain things make me cry. I cried in crying bursts for months after a friend of mine died. I loved her so much and I was devastated that I would no longer be able to look into her beautiful blue eyes and chat with her about everything under the sun. I cry if my friends cry, even if I don't know why. If they're crying somethings going on because it's rare and it upsets me greatly to see them upset. I get lumpy and my eyes well up. I choke up. The other things that makes me weep is seeing a father and son showing affection for each other. I don't have that and I wish I could have experienced that. It sounds like I cry a lot. I don't really I think, but those things or situations above do make me cry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I think a true man is completely honest with his feelings. So, yes, real people do cry. I don't think I could be with a man who is unable to show his emotion through tears, be them happy tears or sad tears. Crying is a natural human emotion. I'm thankful for tears. Tears are some of the strongest "words" I've ever heard men speak. Crying just means you're human.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a title="Live - Dolphins Cry" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmO-YvkZAhs" target="_blank"&gt;time in between was just a dream&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-3613091592511075105?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/3613091592511075105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=3613091592511075105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3613091592511075105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3613091592511075105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/07/tough-people-dont-cry.html' title='tough people don&apos;t cry'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1408/732045301_b088216e30_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-796333820144671315</id><published>2007-07-03T01:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:49:34.869+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='texts'/><title type='text'>najbolje</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;sad da te vidim ne bih te poznao&lt;br /&gt;lepote tvoje zeljan sam ostao&lt;br /&gt;znam da sa tobom sve sam izgubio&lt;br /&gt;al' kad te sanjam ne bih se budio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;not one of my best nor one of my muses but thinkin in common of &lt;a href="http://vlad-rm-corp.blogspot.com/"&gt;one&lt;/a&gt; who deserve in the hope of being forgiven in the name of keep it safe 'n close in touch as good as gone as good as been on the deepest inside every split inch and clear instant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082796836951362274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Rom4yxv3CuI/AAAAAAAAABk/S0BI6Mnzrvg/s400/Clipboard01.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-796333820144671315?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/796333820144671315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=796333820144671315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/796333820144671315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/796333820144671315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/07/sad-da-te-vidim-ne-bih-te-poznao-lepote.html' title='najbolje'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Rom4yxv3CuI/AAAAAAAAABk/S0BI6Mnzrvg/s72-c/Clipboard01.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-5820639932205127449</id><published>2007-06-25T11:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T01:29:38.048+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PR strategy'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.inspiredesign.com/images/PR_marketing1_r2_c2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are the essential factors of a PR strategy?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;All PR programmes require you to undertake the following:&lt;br /&gt;- Conduct a situation analysis - establish current PR, look at what competitors are doing, and the resources you have&lt;br /&gt;- Set objectives - these need to be sustainable, measurable, achievable, realistic and timed&lt;br /&gt;- Identify target audience(s) - who are you trying to communicate with?&lt;br /&gt;- Define key messages - what do you want to say?&lt;br /&gt;- Determine a strategy - what is the overall approach going to be?&lt;br /&gt;- Choose tactics - what methods of communication are you going to use? For example: opinion columns, internal newsletters, forward feature placement, employee presentations, community initiatives, sponsorship&lt;br /&gt;- Fix a timeline - identify priorities&lt;br /&gt;- Carry out an evaluation - your objectives must be properly evaluated, which will enable the programme to be refined accordingly&lt;br /&gt;- Budget accordingly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-5820639932205127449?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/5820639932205127449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=5820639932205127449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/5820639932205127449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/5820639932205127449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/06/what-are-essential-factors-of-pr.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-3958995117913341132</id><published>2007-04-11T00:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:21:48.253+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='articles'/><title type='text'>'smoke your eyes'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RiAQy4EjNiI/AAAAAAAAABU/wQqahjNGy7U/s1600-h/darkeye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053057248140670498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RiAQy4EjNiI/AAAAAAAAABU/wQqahjNGy7U/s400/darkeye.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Dark, glamorous eyes dominates in every time, in every season - it's going to be a smoulderingly hot one, even this one. Heavy, glossy india-ink eyes flash and sparkle on the catwalk. It's a continuation of the iconic, glamourous feel of the past. Fashion insiders put the trend down to our socio-psychological desire to look expensive in the face of a potential economic recession. The style keeps its contemporary edge with softly groomed eyebrows, and eyeshadow that's almost translucent. Strong eyeliner is complemented by brow bones highlighted with a shimmering hue. Our desire to look into someone's eyes (or have them look into ours) is due to an optical illusion. Eyes are attracted to contrasts or light and dark, and glittering pipils demand attention. Painting a dark colour around the eye is an extension of this. In doing so, we're expanding the whites of the eyes by surrounding them with black in order to attract potential admirers. The other big sex-appeal factor is that we're accentuating the natural difference between the male and female eye. Because women;s eyes have thinner skin around them, they naturally look darker than men's. A dark eye is a sign of femininity, which men are programmed to notice. To achieve smoky eyes, start gradually. A soft black kohl eyeliner gives the quickest and sexiest finish to the eyes. Lining the inner rims of the eye crates a frame of instant sophistication, which can be intensified by taking the kohl into the lashes and smudging it. Build the liner and shadow up until you have the right intensity. There are no rules or limits. To keep it pretty as opposed to strong make the edges soft and subtle. Finally, never scrutinise make-up. Take a step back from the mirror and view yourself from the distance others would. Find your suits-you smoky shade.&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/20738743-3958995117913341132?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/3958995117913341132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=3958995117913341132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3958995117913341132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/3958995117913341132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/04/smoke-your-eyes.html' title='&apos;smoke your eyes&apos;'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RiAQy4EjNiI/AAAAAAAAABU/wQqahjNGy7U/s72-c/darkeye.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-2383659746756511304</id><published>2007-03-31T18:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:22:03.347+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='articles'/><title type='text'>'less is better now'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RhPoN0NdB2I/AAAAAAAAABM/zuSV9y5n1mE/s1600-h/make-up-bw.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049634931263473506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RhPoN0NdB2I/AAAAAAAAABM/zuSV9y5n1mE/s400/make-up-bw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Something strange is happening to modern women. When it comes to make-up, we all suddenly want to look like like we're not wearing any. It's true. Ask yourself how you'd describe your signature style or personal approach to make-up, and if some of the words 'simple', 'natural', 'understated' or 'sheer' don't come into aquation, you're a rare being indeed. So, what's going on? Have we lost interest in our appearance? Got bored of beauty products? Or have we become so confused by ever-changing beauty trends that we've just given up? The answer is none of the above. The most recent reports shows that spending on cosmetics is higher than ever, and the category that accounts for over a third of these sales is so-called 'face' make-up - foundations, concealers, powders and blushers. We're doing more and spending more to create the illusion of no make-up - a complexion so flawless we don't need any extra colour. But hold on, surely a life without gorgeous shimmery powders and brightly coloured lipsticks will simply make us look plain, boring and downright old? On the contrary. For many women, 'going natural' is the Holy Grail in the quest for younger-looking skin. And, let's face it, looking young is what we're all really after. 'Women want to be percieved as perfect - like they came out that way'. Some radiance serums were designed to create this impression - to give you the 'original skin' you were born with - and a slew of other 'complexion-enhancing' creams aim to do the same. But for feminists, this preasure for effortless perfection is nothing short of oppression. Some authors believes that a male-dominated society has made us obsessed with ageing. 'Aging in women is "undeautiful", since women grow more powerful with time', some says. But some others disagrees, asserting that it is beauty, not age, that holds most power for women, so the process of making ourselves look attractive can be seen as a feminist act in itself. (Earlier the last century, make-up was endorsed by feminists, with suffragettes wearing lipstick as a sign of their liberation). Staying youthful and beautiful just for the sake of it is no longer enough. Beauty equates to power and control. Whichever argument you agree with, it's fair to say that even the most 'natural' make-up look is rarely achieved without clever products. The paradox is that while bright cosmetics were once worn to look younger, now we think they have the oposite effect; and it's the is-she-or-isn't-she make-up that really takes years off you. Consequently, the products we want to buy are changing dramatically. Out go deep colours and heavy textures, and in come all things sheer, light and, you guessed it, natural. In Western beauty 'natural' is seen as desirable, but what is natural beauty? It is really only a perception of natural beauty that is strived for. And that doesn't mean not wearing any make-up at all. In fact, some of the latest collections contains only natural shades, including some of the best-selling illuminators. Many of the products that have achieved cult status in the beauty world are similarly 'nude'. As a result of our desire to look atural, more technologically advanced products have been developed. And the airbrushing and photo manipulation techniques used on models that inspire us to believe we too can have flawless shin have also been refined. We see the perfect skin of models in photos and we want to look the same - but for most of us, it's simply not possible to get a perfect 'no make-up' look without using make-up. The airbrushing techniques used in advertising and editorial give an unrealistic perception of what we want to look like. It cannot possibly work off paper. Another explanation for beauty's new 'no make-up' trend is the way in which many of our beauty ideas filter down from another society influences. It's our new obsession with 'lunchtime lip-filters' and 'Botox before breakfast' that has rendered us able to do without the trowelled-on make-up look. The Western preoccupation with feeling and looking younger is exporting its influence accros the pond. The stigma cosmetics treatments and procedures is slowly being lifted, and no loonger carries the fear and loathing it once did. But aside from the questionable assertion that surgical treatments have 'improved' our underlying features so we need wear less make-up, it's certainly true that we've lifted the 'nude and neutral' look from aside. But the 'bare' faces, like the tan leather handbags and perfect blow-dries, also say something about the lifestyle. With no worry lines, stress breakouts or dark cirlces, there is a hidden implication in those healthy, glowing bare faces that they've been blessed with a stress-free existence. In reality, of course, a clear complexion signifies nothing of the sort. Ironically, the easiest way to a stress-free existence is not to worry about getting older. And according to the experts, the best way to do that is to have confidence not only in yourself but also in your products. A product that helps to enhance your appearance, rather than cover or manipulate, definately promotes confidence. The theory goes that we should all be looking for the kind of confidence that comes from within, so we can feel good in our own skin, without needing trowel-loads of make-up to mask it. Women need to relax into the fact that skin does change and age, and they are coming to understand this more and more. What is perfect skin anyway? What indeed? The bare faced cheek of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, do you believe less is better, now?&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/20738743-2383659746756511304?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/2383659746756511304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=2383659746756511304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2383659746756511304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/2383659746756511304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/03/less-is-better-now.html' title='&apos;less is better now&apos;'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RhPoN0NdB2I/AAAAAAAAABM/zuSV9y5n1mE/s72-c/make-up-bw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-6765928596376632848</id><published>2007-02-21T18:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T20:42:20.891Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;There's a place I've never been, a place I long to be&lt;br /&gt;Will I reach? I just don't know, still I hope one day I'll go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wish just never seems to come, I know for certain you're the one&lt;br /&gt;So close I get, still no cigar, carrying my wounded heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop the river from running&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I can't stop the rain from falling down on me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I know I'm not what you want&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping in time you'll see how &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=W-h0umNyJIc"&gt;my soul pleads for you&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not every time you meet someone and you both just click in a minute&lt;br /&gt;Baby it's the eye contact, smile like that click-click and you're rolling&lt;br /&gt;Can't stop calling you, I don't know what to do&lt;br /&gt;Baby you're making me break down all of my rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I can believe you've put a spell on me&lt;br /&gt;Oh it's the way it seems, I can't keep you out my dreams&lt;br /&gt;Oh I get chills baby, when I can't talk to you&lt;br /&gt;I'm in pain and I hope you feel the way I do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know for certain you're the one baby so close, and no cigar&lt;br /&gt;I carry this, my wounded heart, so close but yet so far&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping in time you'll see how&lt;br /&gt;my soul pleads for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-6765928596376632848?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/6765928596376632848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=6765928596376632848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6765928596376632848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6765928596376632848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/02/blog-post_21.html' title='...'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-8104253554390153047</id><published>2007-02-17T19:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-19T19:54:57.636Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033335097736281378" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Rdn_mogTvSI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Fr4NkWWyh1s/s400/importance.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;click &lt;a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/94/395697047_1e7b1f01b4_o.jpg"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for a larger image&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Importance ratings for items reflecting personal views and lifestyle preferences. Minimums are 335 for graduate students (GS) males, 317 for GS females, 344 for talent-search (TS) males, and 170 for TS females. TS participants answer these items as part of their 20-year follow-up questionaire.&lt;/em&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/20738743-8104253554390153047?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/8104253554390153047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=8104253554390153047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/8104253554390153047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/8104253554390153047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/02/click-here-for-larger-image-importance.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/Rdn_mogTvSI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Fr4NkWWyh1s/s72-c/importance.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-6664395667810896900</id><published>2007-02-01T15:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-03T09:48:09.084Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RcRaIx-eEJI/AAAAAAAAAAw/6KHiSfyetqU/s1600-h/silhouettes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027242190953123986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RcRaIx-eEJI/AAAAAAAAAAw/6KHiSfyetqU/s400/silhouettes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;И помня твойте очи и помня твойте ръце. Опасно близо. Плашещо близо. Нереално близо. С въпроси наум дали не сънувам. Не искам така лесно да бе свършило. Красиви спомени пазя. Теб. Какъвто знаеш че си но и какъвто може би не искаш да предположиш по огнените езичета останали в двете преливащи езера на искрения портрет който скицираш с усмивка. Пак ти. Пред погледа ми са хиляди хора забързани и се опитвам да не мисля защото бе сигурно че ще срещна твоя търсещ не другиму и не изхода от гъмжилото а мен. Боли силно когато знам че не ще мога да се скрия на топло въе ръцете ти от тълпата която сега ненавиждам. Сгушена в обятията ти по-близко и по-близко е безопасно и за момент искам времето да спре точно така потънала в нежна и силна прегръдка. Искам да мога а ми е трудно да си поискам. Знам че знаеш и ме разбираш. Но малките жестове и капризи имат голямо значение за един най-обикновен ден да остане в спомените като магичен подарък дори когато ни няма на същото място в такъв безценен момент. Мисля с тъжна усмивка за сутрините с черно кафе до прозореца, когато сме се разминавали с кикотене в банята и муцунката ти е била оцапана с пяна за бръснене, изпращайки ме до входната врата и как до последно се дърпах да не тръгна, лутането по малките улички и усещането че водя до себе си малко дете имащо нужда от порицание след всяка дребна пакост, спомням си вечерите когато в приглушена сценична светлина пееше песни с безброй посвещения и надежда следващата да запазя с моето име. Заспивах винаги първа и отварях очи от шума в кухнята, поглеждах бележката до възглвницата “ставай че закъсняваш за лекции!” защото ти е било жал да го кажеш а ти идваше малко след това с inxs и недоизпитата бутилка вино от няколко часа по-рано. Когато беше толкова близо колкото много месеци не сме били аз пак ревнувах от времето, бялата котка, малките бягства, и завръщанията, от музиката и от тишината, от всеки поглед встрани от моите две очи. В един момент музиката спря а знаеш че от тишината ме е страх. От хилядите мелодии предпочитам една или няколко определени но забравих да си ги поискам да останат с мен а не в багажа който отнесе на път през омразния терминал и само диря в небето остана. Освен спомените. Които имат значение. Когато не виждам и на допир те няма го има гласчето. Също мелодия. Но знаеш ли искам от всичко по малко и не само по малко. Просто поравно за всичките сетива. Искам да знаеш колко значиш за мен независимо от мястото от времето и колко дълго ще чакам до следващата среща. Ела пак и недей да си тръгваш.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Cold and frosty morning, there's not a lot to say about the things caught in my mind. And as the day was dawning my plane flew away with all the things caught in my mind. Damn my situation and the games I have to play with all the things caught in my mind. Damn my education I can't find the words to say, with all the things caught in my mind. So don't go away, say what you say. Say that you'll stay, forever and a day in the time of my life. Cause I need more time, yes I need more time just to make things right...&lt;/em&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/20738743-6664395667810896900?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/6664395667810896900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=6664395667810896900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6664395667810896900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/6664395667810896900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/02/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RcRaIx-eEJI/AAAAAAAAAAw/6KHiSfyetqU/s72-c/silhouettes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-790180449029949462</id><published>2007-01-07T17:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-09T15:25:10.144Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visions'/><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RaOzRzVFUDI/AAAAAAAAAAg/iFFgcofKpp0/s1600-h/kittens-orange-large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018051528238649394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RaOzRzVFUDI/AAAAAAAAAAg/iFFgcofKpp0/s400/kittens-orange-large.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;искам така! искам така! искам!&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/20738743-790180449029949462?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/790180449029949462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=790180449029949462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/790180449029949462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/790180449029949462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2007/01/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RaOzRzVFUDI/AAAAAAAAAAg/iFFgcofKpp0/s72-c/kittens-orange-large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-1975311343400785008</id><published>2006-12-15T11:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-19T15:59:30.756Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RYPXs0HPBqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vVvXwZjj_eM/s1600-h/stella-onlything.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009084375469328034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RYPXs0HPBqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vVvXwZjj_eM/s400/stella-onlything.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The only thing I want. The only I need. The only thing I choose.&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that looks good on me… is &lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Искам да съм 2500 километра на изток. Кажи ми че те разбирам правилно. Извинявай. Искам да го чуя но не мога от тук. А искам да те чуя и да ми го кажеш с глас. Ти си пак това нали? Лятното. Кажи го с усмивка и е достатъчно. Първият път се спрях да попитам кое може да породи онази неописуема болка в очите. Спомняш ли си? Не съм благодарна на любопитството си а на въпросите които не се наложи да задам. Кажи ми че знам отговорите. Кажи ми че вече нямам въпроси. Беше ме страх и все още се страхувам от тишината а ти знаеш как да ми дадеш смелост. Дори да не съм иглата морфин в кръвта ти срещу горчилката позволи ми поне да вървим заедно и да те слушам. Ревнувам от болката и от лекарствата но ми трябваш какъвто и да е стига само да е реално. Позволи на едно обикновено момиче да се огледа в едно необикновено момче. Понякога ми се ще да съм камера и да запечатам образа. Нататък знаеш продължението. Свързани спомени. Може би се самонавивам но е по-добре от нищо за което виня качеството да говоря на себе си и рядко в подходящото време на правилния човек. Кажи ми че това си ти. Ела тук по-скоро а аз ти обещавам да слушам внимателно.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I practice every day to find some clever lines to say to make the meaning come true&lt;br /&gt;But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late and I'm alone with you&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/20738743-1975311343400785008?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/1975311343400785008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=1975311343400785008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1975311343400785008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/1975311343400785008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/12/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/RYPXs0HPBqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vVvXwZjj_eM/s72-c/stella-onlything.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-116177134926578260</id><published>2006-10-24T08:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T05:07:28.566Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/1600/stella-classique.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/320/stella-classique.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; Thank you, &lt;strong&gt;Vlad&lt;/strong&gt;. I owe a great debt of sincere gratitude.&lt;br /&gt;Because &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://stella.shorturl.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;that’s a genuine classique&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;. Kisses. You know how&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/20738743-116177134926578260?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/116177134926578260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=116177134926578260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/116177134926578260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/116177134926578260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/10/thank-you-vlad.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-116177107401443860</id><published>2006-10-19T16:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:23:20.545+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='articles'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;The history of the human race (naturally I mean the history of its mind and not merely its wars) is readily intelligible on the theory of the appearance of genius, and of the imitation by the more monkey-like individuals of the conduct of those with genius. The chief stages, no doubt, were house- building, agriculture, and above all, speech. Every single word has been the invention of a single man, as, indeed, we still see, if we leave out of consideration the merely technical terms. The genius is not a critic of language, but its creator, as he is the creator of all the mental achievements which are the material of culture and which make up the objective mind, the spirit of the peoples. The "timeless" men are those who make history, for history can be made only by those who are not floating with the stream. It is only those who are unconditioned by time who have real value, and whose productions have an enduring force. And the events that become forces of culture become so only because they have an enduring value. As memory has been shown to be a special character unconnected with the lower spheres of psychical life, and the exclusive property of human beings, it is not surprising that it is closely related to such higher things as the idea of value and time, and the craving for immortality, which is absent in animals, and possible to men only in so far as they possess the quality of genius. If memory be an essentially human thing, part of the deepest being of humanity, finding expression in mankind's most peculiar qualities, then it will not be surprising if memory be also related to the phenomenon of logic and ethics. The most common defect which one could discover in the conversation of a woman, if one really wished to apply to it the standard of logic (a feat that man habitually shuns, so showing his contempt for a woman's logic) is the quaternio terminorum, that form of equivocation which is the result of an incapacity to retain definite presentations; in other words, the result of a failure to grasp the law of identity. Woman is unaware of this; she does not realise the law nor make it a criterion of thought. Man feels himself bound to logic; the woman is without this feeling. It is only this feeling of guilt that guarantees man's efforts to think logically. The source of all error in life is failure of memory. Thus logic and ethics, both of which deal with the furtherance of truth and join in its highest service, are dependent on memory. Memory, it is true, is not a logical and ethical act, but it is a logical and ethical phenomenon. A man who has had a vivid and deep perception regards it as a fault, if some half-hour afterwards he is thinking of something different, even if external influences have intervened. A man thinks himself unconscientious and blameworthy if he notices that he has not thought of a particular portion of his life for a long time. Memory, moreover, is linked with morality, because it is only through memory that repentance is possible. All forgetfulness is in itself immoral. And so reverence is a moral exercise; it is a duty to forget nothing, and for this reason we should reverence the dead. Equally from logical and ethical motives, man tries to carry logic into his past, in order that past and present may become one. That which enables man to have a real relation to truth and which removes his temptation to lie, must be something independent of all time, something absolutely unchangeable, which as faithfully reproduces the old as if it were new, because it is permanent itself; it can only be that source in which all discrete experiences unite and which creates from the first a continuous existence. It is what produces the feeling of responsibility which oppresses all men, young and old, as to their actions, which makes them know that they are responsible, which leads to the phenomena of repentance and consciousness of sin, which calls to account before an eternal and ever present self things that are long past, its judgment being subtler and more comprehensive than that of any court of law or of the laws of society, and which is exerted by the individual himself quite independently of all social codes (so condemning the moral psychology which would derive morality from the social life of man). Society recognises the idea of illegality, but not of sin; it presses for punishment without wishing to produce repentance; lying is punished by the law only in its ceremonious form of perjury, and error has never been placed under its ban. Social ethics with its conception of duty to our neighbour and to society, and practical exclusion from consideration of the other human beings, cannot extend the realm of morality, when it begins by limiting it in this arbitrary fashion.&lt;br /&gt;- Otto Weininger, 1901&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/20738743-116177107401443860?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/116177107401443860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=116177107401443860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/116177107401443860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/116177107401443860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/10/history-of-human-race-naturally-i-mean.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-115984601873651095</id><published>2006-10-03T03:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:23:35.956+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='texts'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;Къде си!? Искам да ти кажа нещо&lt;br /&gt;мисля, че затъвам в блатото от грешки.&lt;br /&gt;Къде си!? Искам да поправя нещо.&lt;br /&gt;Колко нощи там си заспивал сам?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;И помня твойте ръце, моля те бъди до мен!&lt;br /&gt;И виждам твойте очи, помнят те. Бъди до мен!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Къде си!? Казват, че си ме презирал,&lt;br /&gt;мислих за това - имам аз вина.&lt;br /&gt;Къде си!? Вярвам още ме обичаш&lt;br /&gt;имаше, нали, мигове добри?&lt;br /&gt;Трябва ли да се преструваш,&lt;br /&gt;че не виждаш вече любовта ми?&lt;br /&gt;Трябва вече да решаваш&lt;br /&gt;време е пред мен да отговаряш.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Когато търсиш любов - поискай мен!&lt;br /&gt;Моя цветна мечта, бъди до мен!&lt;br /&gt;Бъди до мен сега!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-115984601873651095?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/115984601873651095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=115984601873651095' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/115984601873651095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/115984601873651095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-115919335414349624</id><published>2006-09-24T06:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:23:52.663+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='texts'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/1600/wet_beauty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/320/wet_beauty.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Words like violence&lt;br /&gt;Break the silence&lt;br /&gt;Come crashing in&lt;br /&gt;Into my little world&lt;br /&gt;Painful to me&lt;br /&gt;Pierce right through me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So take my hands and come with me&lt;br /&gt;We will change reality&lt;br /&gt;So take my hands and we will pray&lt;br /&gt;They won’t take you away&lt;/strong&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/20738743-115919335414349624?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/115919335414349624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=115919335414349624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/115919335414349624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/115919335414349624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/09/words-like-violence-break-silence-come.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-115704349555819542</id><published>2006-08-31T17:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:24:54.613+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visions'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.uel.ac.uk/law/research/images/clip_image002temp_000_001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;summer's almost gone&lt;br /&gt;learning.and.colaboration&lt;br /&gt;miss.you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-115704349555819542?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/115704349555819542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=115704349555819542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/115704349555819542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/115704349555819542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/08/summers-almost-gone-learning.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-115307344247071591</id><published>2006-07-15T04:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T08:05:04.884+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killing me softly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='texts'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;How does it feel babe&lt;br /&gt;to play sweet revenge&lt;br /&gt;do you want me on my knees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does it feel babe&lt;br /&gt;to let me feel your strength&lt;br /&gt;don't be cruel can't you see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't catch me now&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop falling down&lt;br /&gt;Just one more night and the devil's got my soul&lt;br /&gt;I need your love babe don't leave me this way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"...това което е могло да се каже е казано&lt;br /&gt;и написано. Днес на мода са импровизациите.&lt;br /&gt;Билярд от думи и емоции, чрез думите;&lt;br /&gt;тенис между настоящето и миналото;&lt;br /&gt;бейзбол - където човек посича топката-потребност&lt;br /&gt;с бухалка-вдъхновение."&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://vlad-rm-corp.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Vlad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-115307344247071591?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/115307344247071591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=115307344247071591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/115307344247071591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/115307344247071591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/07/how-does-it-feel-babe-to-play-sweet.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114762486168121512</id><published>2006-05-13T00:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:25:23.431+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visions'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/1600/oasis_paint.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/400/oasis_paint.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;No one could break us; No one could take us - If they tried&lt;br /&gt;No one could take us; No one could break us - If they tried&lt;br /&gt;Come along lets make it tonight&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/20738743-114762486168121512?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114762486168121512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114762486168121512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114762486168121512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114762486168121512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/05/no-one-could-break-us-no-one-could.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114683841260485152</id><published>2006-05-03T12:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T15:13:32.606+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;All your dreams are made&lt;br /&gt;When you're chained to the mirror and the razor blade&lt;br /&gt;Today's the day that all the world will see&lt;br /&gt;Another Sunny Afternoon&lt;br /&gt;Walking to the sound of my favourite tune&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow doesn't know what it doesn't know too soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need a little time to wake up, need a little time to wake up wake up&lt;br /&gt;Need a little time to wake up, need a little time to rest your mind&lt;br /&gt;You know you should so I guess you might as well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the story Morning Glory, well ?&lt;br /&gt;You need a little time to wake up, wake up, well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whats the story Morning Glory, well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you&lt;br /&gt;By now you should've somehow realised what you've got to do&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Backbeat, the word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you've heard it all before, but you never really had a doubt&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the roads we have to walk are winding&lt;br /&gt;And all the lights that lead us there are blinding&lt;br /&gt;There are many things that I would like to say to you&lt;br /&gt;But I don't know how&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114683841260485152?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114683841260485152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114683841260485152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114683841260485152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114683841260485152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/05/all-your-dreams-are-made-when-youre.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114683809653812172</id><published>2006-05-01T00:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T15:13:55.250+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Приказка за тъжната Тъга</title><content type='html'>Тя беше малка жена, която вървеше по запрашения полски път. Беше вече доста стара, обаче вървежът й беше лек и нейната усмивка имаше свежия полъх на едно безгрижно мoмиченце.&lt;br /&gt;Тя се спря пред една купчина с неопределена форма и погледна надолу. Не можеше много да разпознае. Нещото, което седеше в прахът на пътя, изглеждаше почти безтелесно. Напомняше на една сиво покривало с човешки контури. Малката жена се наведе малко и попита:&lt;br /&gt;– Кой си ти?&lt;br /&gt;Две почти безжизнени очи погледнаха уморено.&lt;br /&gt;– Аз? Аз съм Тъгата, – прошепна гласът вяло и толкова тихо, че едвам се чуваше.&lt;br /&gt;– Аа, Тъгата! – каза малката жена толкова радостно, все едно че поздравяваше стара позната.&lt;br /&gt;– Ти ме познаваш? – попита Тъгата недоверчиво.&lt;br /&gt;– Разбира се, че те познавам! Неведнъж си ме придружавала по Пътя.&lt;br /&gt;– Да, обаче... – каза подозрително тъгата, – защо не се страхуваш тогава от мен? Нямаш ли страх?&lt;br /&gt;– Защо трябва да бягам от теб, скъпа моя? Ти самата знаеш прекалено добре, че хващаш всеки беглец. Но това, което искам да те питам е: защо изглеждаш толкова отчаяно?&lt;br /&gt;– Аз... аз съм тъжна, – отговори сивата купчина с крехък глас.&lt;br /&gt;Малката, стара жена седна до нея.&lt;br /&gt;– Тъжна си значи, – каза тя и кимна с разбиране с глава. – Разкажи ми, какво толкова те угнетява.&lt;br /&gt;Тъгата въздъхна дълбоко. Наистина ли някой този път щеше да иска да я чуе? Колко често си го беше пожелавала.&lt;br /&gt;– Моята работа е да ходя между хората и за известно време при тях да пребивавам. Обаче, когато отивам при тях, дърпат се. Плашат се от мен и ме избягват като чума. – Тъгата преглътна тежко. – Те измислиха дори изречения, с които искат да ме анатемосат. Те казват: Животът е весел. И техните фалшиви усмивки водят до спзми в корема и проблеми с дишането. Казват: Любимо да бъде, което ни прави силни. И тогава получават болки в сърцето. Казват: Човек трябва да се държи. И те усещат държенето в рамената и гърба. Казват: само слабаците плачат. И задържаните сълзи почти разбиват главите им. Или се притъпяват с алкохол и наркотици за да не могат повече да ме чувстват.&lt;br /&gt;– О, да, – потвърди старата жена, – често съм срещала такива хора.&lt;br /&gt;Тъгата се вглъби още повече в себе си.&lt;br /&gt;– А в същото време искам само да помогна на хората. Когато съм съсвем близо до тях, те могат да срещнат сами себе си. Помагам им да свият гнездо за да излекуват раните си. Който е тъжен, има една особено тънка кожа. Някои печали се обаждат отново като една лошо зараснала рана и това боли много. Но само който допусне тъгата и изплаче всичките сълзи, може наистина да излекува раните си. Но хората не искат да им помогна в това. Вместо това си слагат една светла усмивка върху своите белези. Или навличат една дебела броня от горчивина. – Тъгата замълча. Нейния плач бе отначало слаб, след това по–силен и накрая съвсем отчаян.&lt;br /&gt;Старата, малка жена взе купчината здраво в ръце. "Колко е мека и нежна", помисли тя и погали мило треперещия вързоп.&lt;br /&gt;– Поплачи си, Тъга, – прошепна тя любящо, – успокой се, за да можеш отново да събереш сила. От сега нататък не трябва вече сама да скиташ. Аз ще те придружавам за да не може отпадналостта никога повече да те обземе.&lt;br /&gt;Тъгата спря да палче. Тя седна и погледна учудено своята нова спътница:&lt;br /&gt;– Но... но – коя си в края на краищата ти?&lt;br /&gt;– Аз? – каза малката, стара жена усмихнато и след това се засмя отново толкова безгрижно като едно малко момиченце. – Аз съм Надеждата.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114683809653812172?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114683809653812172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114683809653812172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114683809653812172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114683809653812172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post_30.html' title='Приказка за тъжната Тъга'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114503095796005652</id><published>2006-04-09T17:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:25:10.325+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visions'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/1600/pirate_light.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/400/pirate_light.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Тоя дъжд е със тяло на мъж&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Тоя дъжд е със тяло на мъж&lt;br /&gt;и със воля на мъж -&lt;br /&gt;тоя дъжд&lt;br /&gt;е внезапния дъжд на Април.&lt;br /&gt;Аз мълчах. Той дойде изведнъж,&lt;br /&gt;своя облак докрай разрушил.&lt;br /&gt;Падна той върху тъмната пръст.&lt;br /&gt;Аз извиках от страх, но без глас.&lt;br /&gt;Той изправи без глас своя ръст&lt;br /&gt;до звездата, наречена - Марс.&lt;br /&gt;И уверен, прерасен и цял&lt;br /&gt;той понесе със царствен замах&lt;br /&gt;своя светъл живот от кристал,&lt;br /&gt;и от въздух -&lt;br /&gt;от шепот&lt;br /&gt;и смях.&lt;br /&gt;Той се блъска във тъмната пръст,&lt;br /&gt;но в жестоката негова страст&lt;br /&gt;е заключен лъчистият ръст&lt;br /&gt;на дълбоко засетия клас.&lt;br /&gt;Той обгръща - и влиза жесток&lt;br /&gt;на дърветата в тъмния свят,&lt;br /&gt;там, където заспалия плод&lt;br /&gt;е без мирис, без образ, без цвят.&lt;br /&gt;И преследва, на всичко готов,&lt;br /&gt;своя ритъм априлския дъжд&lt;br /&gt;със дъждовната своя любов&lt;br /&gt;на работник,&lt;br /&gt;строител&lt;br /&gt;и мъж.&lt;br /&gt;Той живей - възхитително-лош&lt;br /&gt;и жестоко-добър... Той е гол.&lt;br /&gt;И изпълва той тъмната нощ&lt;br /&gt;със живот - и щастлив алкохол.&lt;br /&gt;Без да мисли за смърт, той живей.&lt;br /&gt;Той се радва нашир и надлъж.&lt;br /&gt;Той ликува докрай - и се смей.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;И умира в нощта изведнъж&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Христо Фотев&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114503095796005652?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114503095796005652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114503095796005652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114503095796005652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114503095796005652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114503080273401413</id><published>2006-04-09T14:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T08:06:50.841+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/1600/ville_valo.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/320/ville_valo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Име - &lt;strong&gt;Виле Вало&lt;/strong&gt; (His Infernal Majestry)&lt;br /&gt;Инструмент - Вокал&lt;br /&gt;Дата на раждане - 22.11.1976&lt;br /&gt;Зодия - Скорпион&lt;br /&gt;Братя/Сестри - брат&lt;br /&gt;Любим филм - Кошмар преди Коледа&lt;br /&gt;Любим град - Necropolis&lt;br /&gt;Любимо ястие - хляб&lt;br /&gt;Любимо питие - червено вино&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ville's Top 5&lt;br /&gt;1. Black Sabbath - "Black Sabbath"&lt;br /&gt;2. Iggy Pop - "Naughty Little Dog"&lt;br /&gt;3. Neil Young - "Rust Never Sleeps"&lt;br /&gt;4. Led Zeppelin - "2"&lt;br /&gt;5. Elvis Presly - "Alles"&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/20738743-114503080273401413?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114503080273401413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114503080273401413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114503080273401413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114503080273401413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/04/his-infernal-majestry-22.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114278934300356171</id><published>2006-03-19T17:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-20T03:33:19.620Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 376px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px" height="279" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/39/114710944_f9ae04ecf2.jpg" width="173" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Библията ни учи &lt;strong&gt;да обичаме&lt;/strong&gt; ближния, а Кама Сутра&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;ни учи &lt;strong&gt;как точно&lt;/strong&gt; да го обичаме.&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/20738743-114278934300356171?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114278934300356171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114278934300356171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114278934300356171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114278934300356171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/03/blog-post_19.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114243698793722775</id><published>2006-03-18T15:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:25:41.209+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Мисля че открих нещо истинско за себе си. Безсрамно късно както &lt;a href="http://vlad-rm-corp.blogspot.com/"&gt;Влад&lt;/a&gt; сподели се срещнах с музиката която означава много и само каменно сърце би успяло да остане безразлично към нея. На живо магията е още по-пленителна.&lt;br /&gt;Концертът в О!Шипка на група &lt;strong&gt;П.И.Ф.&lt;/strong&gt; бе най-приятната изненада за тази седмица. За бъдеще мога да се опитам да си обещая да не правя пропуски. Друга причина за това бих могла да дам със съвпадението за родното място от което произхождаме с музикантите - морския бряг. Ще са ми необходими много дни да науча всяко заглавие от албум и песен, текст и мелодия, но ще си струва по всеки параграф. Каква по-хубава възможност да се слееш с музиката от една първа среща на метър от вдъхновението. И още десетки около себе си.&lt;br /&gt;Допреди няколко дни почти бях готова да споря относно ходенето си по участия на живо от съображения за сигурност защото звукът в помещение с лоша техника или неприятно присъствие в аудиторията е в състояние да развали цялостното впечатление от иначе стойностно по принцип изпълнение на аудио носител. Но предрасъдъците са предрасъдъци за да бъдат превъзмогнати. Ще излъжа ако не си призная че освен поводът значение за добрите спомени има и компанията ;))) Нещо което винаги има значение!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Владенце&lt;/em&gt; благодаря ти че ни запозна мен и най-новите ми любимци!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114243698793722775?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114243698793722775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114243698793722775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114243698793722775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114243698793722775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/03/blog-post_18.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114243490617859437</id><published>2006-03-15T14:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-15T15:01:46.193Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Би казал, че във тази стая&lt;br /&gt;не е живял отдавна никой,&lt;br /&gt;че е заключена стояла&lt;br /&gt;с години нейната врата.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Тук има миризма на вехто&lt;br /&gt;и прах по всичките неща,&lt;br /&gt;тук бавно времето превръща&lt;br /&gt;във прах безжизнен сякаш всичко...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#663333;"&gt;Какви лица ли отразило&lt;br /&gt;ревниво пази огледалото?&lt;br /&gt;То сякаш е един прозорец,&lt;br /&gt;отворен в друг предишен свят.&lt;br /&gt;Часовникът е вече млъкнал&lt;br /&gt;и в неговия чер ковчег&lt;br /&gt;лежат умрели часовете&lt;br /&gt;и неподвижно спи махалото.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114243490617859437?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114243490617859437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114243490617859437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114243490617859437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114243490617859437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/03/blog-post_15.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114215179000679011</id><published>2006-03-10T18:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-12T08:23:10.016Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/1600/comic_meet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 371px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px" height="106" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/320/comic_meet.jpg" width="545" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114215179000679011?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114215179000679011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114215179000679011' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114215179000679011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114215179000679011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114154526117713207</id><published>2006-03-02T23:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-05T07:54:21.180Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/1600/face.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 156px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px" height="279" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/28/2089/320/face.gif" width="173" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Дали плач по любов,&lt;br /&gt;дали страст към живота,&lt;br /&gt;дали нежна тъга по eдна красота:&lt;br /&gt;на мелодия скрита последната нота&lt;br /&gt;или селския спомен за птичи гнезда?...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Беше въздухът влязъл&lt;br /&gt;във нежни продели.&lt;br /&gt;Затова ненадейно и смъртта е дошла.&lt;br /&gt;И душите ни страдат, че крилата летели&lt;br /&gt;са сега вкаменени и мъртви крила...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Любов - ,агическа реалност,&lt;br /&gt;неоскърбени светове,&lt;br /&gt;в които жадно и нормално&lt;br /&gt;сърцето - чудо ни зове.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Тя търси истина и милост,&lt;br /&gt;и в синкавия полуздрач&lt;br /&gt;се смесват най-необяснимо&lt;br /&gt;очакван смях с нечакан плач&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;И веят в тръпните дървета&lt;br /&gt;нехайни, неми ветрове.&lt;br /&gt;А в странен климат по полето&lt;br /&gt;цъфтят зелени цветове.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Най-често във предсънно време&lt;br /&gt;дъжд люляков ще зароси.&lt;br /&gt;Там чуваш честни обяснения&lt;br /&gt;и още вярваш на сълзи.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;И накипяла правда има&lt;br /&gt;във жеста, в трепета, в гласа&lt;br /&gt;или.отчаян ще заминеш,&lt;br /&gt;или ще вършиш чудеса.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114154526117713207?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114154526117713207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114154526117713207' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114154526117713207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114154526117713207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/03/e.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114106993558356536</id><published>2006-02-28T00:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-27T19:53:07.983Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Тялото реагира на различните проблеми по стереотипен начин, с идентични биохимични промени, к. по същество са предназначени да помогнат на организма да се справи с всякакъв род изисквания към човешката машина. Факторите, които предизвикват стрес – в специалната лит. те се наричат стресори ,-са различни, но независимо от това всички те по същество предизвикват една и съща стресова реакция.&lt;br /&gt;Стресът е неспецифичен отговор на тялото на всяко поставено пред него изискване. Всяко изискване, поставено пред нашето тяло, е в известен смисъл уникално, т.е. специфично.Освен св.специфично действие всички агенти , на въздействието на които е подложен нашият организъм, предизвикват също така и неспецифично нарастване на необходимостта от осъществяване на приспособителни функции с цел възстановяване на нормалното състояние.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;От гледна точка на предизвикващото стрес стресорно действие няма значение дали агентът или ситуацията, с които се срещаме, е приятна или неприятна. От значение е само интензивността на изискването за преустройство или приспособяване. Различни фактори като студ, топлина, лекарства, хормони, мъка и радост, предизвикват идентична биохимична реакция. Стресорният ефект на едно изискване, поставено пред организма, не зависи от вида на приспособителната реакция, която е необходима, за да се посрещне това изискване.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Какво не е стрес?&lt;br /&gt;Стресът не е просто нервно напрежение. Стресови реакции се наблюдават и в по-низши животни, които нямат нервна система, а даже и в растения. Стресът не винаги е неспецифичен резултат от увреждане. Ефектът от действието на стресора зависи само от капацитета на организма. Всяка нормална дейност може да предизвика значителен стрес, без да причини вреда. Увреждащият или неприятен стрес се нарича “дистрес”. Дейностите, свързани със стреса, могат да бъдат приятни или неприятни. Дистресът е винаги неприятен.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Стресът не е нещо, което трябва да се избягва. Той и не може да бъде избегнат. Пълната липса на стрес означава смърт. Приятното, както и неприятното емоционално възбуждане се придружава от нарастване на физиологичния стрес (но не задължително и на дистреса ).&lt;br /&gt;Съгласно теоретичния модел на отношението между стреса и жизнения път , както лишаването от стимули, така и прекомерната стимулация се придружават от нарастване на стреса, който по някога достига до степента на дистрес.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Еволюция на концепцията за стреса&lt;br /&gt;Хомеостаза – сила на устойчивото състояние&lt;br /&gt;По какъв начин различните стимули произвеждат един и същ резултат?&lt;br /&gt;Тази реакция беше описана за първи път през 1936г. като “синдром, предизвикан от различни вредни агенти”, и впоследствие стана известен като общ адаптационен синдром или синдром на биологичния стрес.&lt;br /&gt;Неговите три стадия са:&lt;br /&gt;- реакция на тревога;&lt;br /&gt;- стадий на съпротивление;&lt;br /&gt;- стадий на изтощение .&lt;br /&gt;Съществуват повърхностна адаптационна енергия и дълбинна / дълбока. Първата е непосредствено достъпна, а втората се съхранява като резерва . Състоянието на изтощение след временно изискване към организма е обратимо състояние, но пълното изразходване на всички запаси от дълбока адаптационна енергия е необратимо. След изтощаването на тези резерви настъпва смъртта.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Как една и съща реакция предизвиква различни увреждания?&lt;br /&gt;Качествено различни дразнители с една и съща токсичност (или сила на стресора) не винаги предизвикват точно един и същ синдром у различните хора.&lt;br /&gt;Даже едно и също ниво на стрес, предизвикано от един и същ дразнител, може да предизвика различни увреждания в различните индивиди.&lt;br /&gt;Качествено различните дразнители се различават само по своите специфични действия. Фактът, че един и същ стресор може да причини разл.увреждания е свързан с т.нар. “обуславящи фактори”, к. могат селективно да подсилват или да подтискат едно или др. въздействие на стреса. Всeки агент притежава както стресорно, така и специфично въздействие.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Стресът играе определена роля в развитието на всяко заболяване. Той може да бъде лечебен или увреждащ, в зависимост от това дали биохимичните реакции се борят срещу заболяването или го усложняват.&lt;br /&gt;Съществуват директни и индиректни болестотворни агенти. Първите предизвикват болест независимо от реакциите не организма, а вторите – само благодарение на прекомерната и безцелна защитна реакция, която те провокират.&lt;br /&gt;Когато става въпрос за междуличностни защитни реакции , съществуват три възможности: (1) синтоксично поведение, при което игнорираме неприятеля и се опитваме да съществуваме съвместно с него, без да го атакуваме;&lt;br /&gt;(2)ката токсично поведение,което се изразява в борба;&lt;br /&gt;(3) борба, опит да се избяга от врага .&lt;br /&gt;Хетеростаза- установяване на ново устойчиво състояние посредством третирането на организма с агенти, които стимулират физиологичните приспособителни механизми по пътя на разгръщането на защитни реакции на такънта, които са неактивни при нормално състояние на организма.&lt;br /&gt;При лечение с медикаменти вътрешната среда е пасивна.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;МОТИВАЦИЯТА&lt;br /&gt;Мотивът е “нещо в личността (потребност, идея, органическо състояние или емоция), която я подтиква към действие”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Размишления за егоизма&lt;br /&gt;Егоизмът или себелюбието е най-древната характерна черта на живота.Егоизмът се е преобразувал във вид алтруизъм, насочен към оцеляване.&lt;br /&gt;Еволюцията на алтруистичния егоизъм. Подбуждайки друго лице да желае нашето благополучие поради това, което сме направили – и следователно може да се очаква, че ще направим за него отново,- ние ще предизвикваме добри чувства на другите към нас. Може би най- благородният начин да гарантираме нашата сигурност (хомеостаза) в обществото.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Сътрудничество между клетките&lt;br /&gt;Именно голямата способност към приспособяване е това, което прави живота възможен на всички равнища на неговата сложност. Има два начина за оцеляване:борба и приспособяване. И най-често именно приспособяването е най- успешният начин. То се характеризира с различна степен на съвършенство. Най- простата му форма е взаимното безразличие, при което клетките просто не си пречат една на друга. Това дава възможност за съвместно съществуване, но не и за сътрудничество.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Сътрудничество между отделните живи същества. Могат да бъдат споменати много такива съжителства сред всички видове на всички стъпала на еволюционната стълбица.&lt;br /&gt;Сътрудничество м/у общества. По същия начин както здравето на даден човек зависи от хармоничното функциониране на органите в неговото тяло , така и отношенията между хората , а също и между членовете на семейството, между племената и нациите да бъдат хармонизирани посредством емоциите и импулсите на алтруистичния егоизъм.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Оптимално ниво на стреса.&lt;br /&gt;Измежду всички емоции тези, които повече от всички други са отговорни за отсъствието или наличието на вреден стрес (дистрес) в човека. Отношения, са чувствата на благодарност и добра роля , както и техните негативни еквиваленти- омразата заедно с жаждата за отмъщение. Резултатът от нашето взаимодействие със заобикалящата ни среда зависи също толкова от нашите реакции по отношение на стресора , колкото и от природата на самия стресор. Психическият стрес, дължащ се на отношенията между хората и тяхното положение в обществото , се регулира с помощта на един механизъм, подобен на този, който е отговорен за човешкия организъм. В определен момент неизбежно възниква сблъскване на интересите , което действа като стресор. След това се появяват балансирани импулси за оказване на съпротивление или за толерантност. Законите , които управляват автоматичните биохимични реакции в организма по време на стрес , са идентични с тези , които управляват съзнателното междуличностно поведение.&lt;br /&gt;По отношение на количеството стрес, от което всеки човек се нуждае за да се чувства щастлив , съществуват големи индивидуални различия . Следователно всеки един от нас трябва внимателно да анализира себе си и да се опита да намери това специфично ниво на стреса, при което се чувства най-добре, независимо от избраната от него професия. Тези, които не успеят да направят този анализ, са заплашени да страдат от дистреса, предизвикан от това , че няма какво да правят , или от постоянното пресилване поради прекомерно натоварване.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;При междуличностния стрес изгодата се изразява в предизвикването у другите на чувства на приятелство, благодарност и доброжелатеност към самите нас, а отрицателният ефект – в предизвикването у тях на чувства на омраза, разочарование и стремеж към отмъщение.&lt;br /&gt;Най- важните продължителни последствия от начина, по който ние се справяме с изискванията , свързани с междуличностните отношения , са много сложни , за да могат да бъдат обяснени от съвременната биохимия, въпреки че даже и това може да стане възможно. Тези събития биха могли да предизвикат три типа чувства или нагласи: положителни, отрицателни и неутрални.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Положителните чувства– “любов” в най-широкия смисъл на думата: благодарност, уважение, доверие и възхищение от изключителните постижения, като всичко това се прибавя към доброжелателността и приятелството.&lt;br /&gt;Отрицателните чувства включват омразата, недоверието. Презрението, враждебността, завистта и отмъстителността или накратко всяко чувство, което. може да заплаши вашата сигурност чрез предизвикване на агресивност у другите, които се страхуват, че можете да им причините вреда.&lt;br /&gt;Неутралните чувства в най-добрия случай могат да доведат до поведение на толерантност. Те правят възможно мирното съвместно съществуване, но не могат да ни дадат нищо повече от това.&lt;br /&gt;Импулсите от тези три типа чувства са най- важния фактор, който ръководи нашето поведение във всекидневния живот. Те определят дали можем да постигнем успех в живота, като се наслаждаваме на поставящия пред нас изисквания стрес, без да страдаме от дистрес. Всички тези чувства са вградени в самата същност на живата материя.&lt;br /&gt;Обединяващата роля на съвместния труд. Вдъхването на обща идея или цел е най-добрия начин да се помогне на човек при понасянето на трудностите и решенията.&lt;br /&gt;Фрустрация. Нищо не може да стимулира успеха по-силно от самия успех, нищо не може да го блокира по-силно от фрустрацията. Даже и най-големите експерти в областта на стреса не могат да отговорят защо стресът, дължащ се на фрустрация, със значително по-голяма вероятност отколкото този, дължащ се на прекомерна мускулна работа, може да предизвика заболявания ( стомашни язви, мигрена, високо кръвно налягане или даже просто повишена раздразнителност). Всъщност физическите упражнения ни успокояват и ни помагат да преодолеем душевната фрустрация.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Неспецифичното въздействие на стресора винаги се усложнява от неговото специфично действие, както и от наследствените или придобити предразположения. Някои емоционални фактори, като например фрустрацията често могат да превърнат стреса в дистрес, докато физическите упражнения в повечето случаи имат противоположния ефект. Но даже и в това отношение съществуват изключения.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Един от най-големите източници на дистрес това е неудовлетворението от живота, т.е. неудовлетвореността от собствените постижения. Такива хора към края на живота си са разочаровани и често прекарват останалата част от него в търсенето на виновници за това, оплаквайки се от липсата на възможности, оправдавайки се с много големите си задължения към своите близки -само и само за да избягнат горчивата истина, че всъщност за това са виновни самите те . Нашата адаптационна енергия представлява наследствено детерминирано количество от жизнени сили, което трябва да бъде изразходвано, за да можем да удовлетворим своя вътрешен импулс към самоизразяване.&lt;br /&gt;Ако осъществяването на естествените стремежи на човека бъде блокирано, това предизвиква същия дистрес, както и насилственото продължаване и интензифициране на всяка дейност извън желаните граници. Пренебрегването на това правило води до фрустрация, умора и изтощение, които могат да преминат в душевен и физически срив.&lt;br /&gt;Организмът не е построен по такъв начин,че да поема твърде много стрес само от един –единствен източник. Когато изпълнението на дадена задача стане невъзможно, разнообразяването на дейността, нейната доброволна промяна е често пъти също толкова полезно – ако не и по-полезно, - отколкото почивката. Това дава възможност на мозъка ни да си почине, но също и помага да преодолеем безпокойството, свързано с фрустриращото прекъсване на всяка умствена дейност. Или, с др. думи, стресът върху една система помага за релаксацията на друга.&lt;br /&gt;(1)Първоначалната реакция на тревога, свързана с изненадата и безпокойството, дължащи се на нашата неопитност при сблъскването ни с нови ситуации;&lt;br /&gt;(2)фазата на съпротивление, когато ние сме се научили да се справяме ефикасно със задачата без излишно възбуждане;&lt;br /&gt;(3) фазата на изтощение, на изразходване на нашите вътрешни енергийни ресурси, което довежда до умора. Тези три фази са учудващо подобни на лабилността и на неопитността на детството, на стабилната устойчивост на зрялата възраст и на изтощението, свързано със старостта и смъртта.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Работа и почивка&lt;br /&gt;Приспособяването, подобно на стреса, представлява проблем само по себе си, независимо от обстоятелствата, към които трябва да се приспособяваме, или от агентите, които причиняват стрес. Трудът е биологична необходимост.&lt;br /&gt;Най-добрият начин за избягване на вътрешния стрес е да си изберем такава среда (съпруга, началник, приятели) , които да съответстват на вътрешните ни предпочитания- да се посветим на такава дейност, които обичаме и уважаваме. Само по такъв начин ще можем да премахнем необходимостта от непрекъсната реадаптация, която е основната причина за дистреса. Трудовата терапия е един от най-ефикасните начини за лечение на някои психични заболявания. Мускулните упражнения укрепват нашето здраве. Всичко зависи от характера на изпълняваната работа и от нашето отношение към нея.&lt;br /&gt;За голям брой възрастни хора, даже и за най- големите егоисти, най-трудният за понасяне аспект на пенсионирането е чувството за собствена безполезност.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Социални последствия.&lt;br /&gt;Какъв вид работа е най-подходящ за нас?Празният ум и ленивото тяло страдат от дистреса на безделието.&lt;br /&gt;Стрес и стареене. Стареенето е резултат от всички стресове, на които е бил изложен организмът през целия си живот. Всеки стрес, особено този, предизвикан от фрустрация, неуспех и др., оставя в нашия организъм необратими химически следи, които се натрупват и формират признаците на стареене на тъканта. Друг такъв механизъм, който води до окончателното изтощаване на адаптационната енергия в процеса на стареенето е кумулативният ефект от непрекъснатата загуба на малки частици невъзстановима тъкан (в мозъка, сърцето и т.н.) , дължащи се на различни увреждания или на разкъсване на малки кръвоносни съдове.&lt;br /&gt;Успешната дейност, колкото напрегната да е тя, оставя в нашия организъм сравнително малко такива дефекти. Работата износва нашия организъм главно поради фрустрацията, свързана с неуспех. Много от световноизвестните труженици в почти всички области на човешката дейност са живели дълго.&lt;br /&gt;Философията на труда за спечелване на доброжелателно отношение е приложима за почти всяка професия. Гордостта от съвършенството в работата е първично биологично чувство.&lt;br /&gt;Според мен дългът е доброволно приет кодекс на поведение.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;КАКВА Е ЦЕЛТА НА ЖИВОТА?&lt;br /&gt;Целта е това, към което са насочени усилията или амбицията.&lt;br /&gt;Целта на живота се състои в самосъхранението или в реализацията на вродените способности и влечения. Всеки човек трябва да си изработи свой собствен начин за освобождаване на натрупаната в него енергия, без да създава конфликти и ако е възможно да спечели благоразположение и уважение.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Цели и средства&lt;br /&gt;Трябва да умеем да разграничаваме ясно нашите крайни цели- върховните постижения, които дават смисъл на живота- от средствата, с помощта на които ние се надяваме да ги постигнем. Има разлика м/у интровертни и екстровертни средства за постигане на целта.&lt;br /&gt;Краткосрочни (близки) цели.Те предполагат незабавно получаване на удовлетворение. Възнагражденията от този тип не могат да се съхраняват, не могат да се натрупват и да образуват непрекъснато нарастващ запас от сила и щастие. За постигането на пълно удовлетворение от разбирането на най-сложните научни проблеми е необходим целият живот на човека.Така че не всяко наслаждение, свързано с краткосрочни цели е пасивно.&lt;br /&gt;Дългосрочни (далечни) цели.Търсенето на задоволителна философия на живота трябва да започне със самоанализ. Обикновено ние имаме две или повече дългосрочни цели, една от които почти винаги доминира. Всички тези различни индивидуални крайни цели съзнателно или несъзнателно са насочени към спечелване на любовта на ближните. Нашата естествена крайна цел трябва да притежава следните две черти:за своето осъществяване тя трябва да изисква упорит труд (в противен случай тя няма да дава възможност за самоизява) И нейните плодове трябва да бъдат достатъчно трайни, за да могат да се натрупват в продължение на нашия живот. Събирането и натрупването са дейности, характерни за живите същества подобно на егоизма.Всъщност те са едно от неговите проявления.&lt;br /&gt;Ние използваме безстрастната логика само за да проверим доколко добре насочваме хода на нашия живот за постигането на избрана по емоционален път цел. Идеите (научни, философски, литературни) също възникват интуитивно, без помощта на логиката. Те ни осеняват неочаквано.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Съзнателни цели.&lt;br /&gt;Независимо от това дали са реални или въображаеми, те могат да бъдат разпределени в 4 основни групи:&lt;br /&gt;1) Да се осланяме на силния: бога, върховната власт, страна, политическа система, семейството, кодекса на честта.&lt;br /&gt;2) Да бъдем силни:Сила заради самата сила, слава, сигурност, придобиване на власт. Този стремеж обикновено се превръща в доминиращ именно поради дълбокото и често болезнено чувство на несигурност.&lt;br /&gt;3)Да даряваме радост: филантропия, Художествено и научното творчество, грижата за децата, добротата към животните, стремежът на лекаря към лекуване.&lt;br /&gt;4)Да получаваме радост. Макар всички посочени цели да са съзнателни, някои от тях се базират в много по-голяма степенна традицията и на вярата в утвърдените ценности на нашето общество, отколкото на природните закони.&lt;br /&gt;Крайна цел.Трябва най-напред да намерим оптималното за нас равнище на стрес и след това да използваме нашата адаптационна енергия с такъв темп и такава посока, които да съответстват на нашите вродени дадености и предпочитания.&lt;br /&gt;Умственото пренапрежение и фрустрация, неувереността и безцелното съществуване са сред най-вредните стресори. Всеки човек си има своите граници. Но в рамките на нашите вродени способности ние трябва да се стремим към най-доброто, което сме в състояние да постигнем. Не към съвършенството.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Жаждата за одобрение и страхът от осъждане&lt;br /&gt;Всички хомеостатични рекции по същество зависят от механизмите на положителна и отрицателна обратна връзка. Подтискането и изпитването на чувство на срам от нашите естествени влечения, които не могат да бъдат избягнати, особено когато тези влечения на вредят на никого, води само до появата на чувство за вина и до психически стрес. Независимо от професията, която упражняваме, голямото постижение и неговото признание, даже и само от самите нас, ни дава голямо удовлетворение и чувство на изпълнен дълг.&lt;br /&gt;Ние не само жадуваме за одобрение, но и се страхуваме от порицание.&lt;br /&gt;“И най-дългото пътешествие започва с първата крачка.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ДА СПЕЧЕЛИМ ЛЮБОВТА НА БЛИЖНИЯ&lt;br /&gt;Увереността и чувството на удовлетвореност, което можем да спечелим, като ставаме все по-необходими на нашите ближни, са право пропорционални на степента на нашия успех.&lt;br /&gt;Единственото съкровище, което завинаги ще остане ваше, това е вашата способност да заслужите любовта на ближните си. Неочаквани социални промени могат внезапно да ви лишат от всички събрани пари, собственост или политическа власт. Но това, което сте научили, е ваше през целия ви живот. Вашата ценност се измерва със способността ви да заслужите любовта на ближния.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ема Марукян&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114106993558356536?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114106993558356536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114106993558356536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114106993558356536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114106993558356536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114106966485119338</id><published>2006-02-26T15:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:26:39.867+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='articles'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 Ways to break the habit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;You can't get rid of sress but you can make it work for you&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Upgrade&lt;/strong&gt; : Rely on healthier sources - an hour at the gym or a walk in the fresh air, will give you a natural buzz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Treat the source&lt;/strong&gt; : not the symptom. If a five-night clubbing marathon leaves your body demanding sleep, you should listen. If you can't cope at work - book a meeting with your boss to ask for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Streamline&lt;/strong&gt; : If problems seem overwhelming, make a list of everything that bothers you and address one each day until they're gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Indulging&lt;/strong&gt; : in you makes a big difference. Spend time nutriting yourself, whether it's taking long, hot bath or reading the newspaper. It's a quick way to refresh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Beat the PMS (Perfect Moment Syndrome) blues&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you feel anxious, rather than fretting about the moment, make a mental list of all the things that are right, instead. FOr example, try thinking, 'the table might be a bit cramped, but at least I'm having a delicious glass of wine with two of my closest friends". To prove you can cope with imperfection, make some hurried decisions on a night out. If you're going for a meal, order your food without deliberating. It may not be the best dinner you've ever had, but you'll gain from having taken the pressure off yourself. Remember, you're responsible for no one's happiness but your own. To stop worrying about other people's reactions and feelings, make sure you spend at least one night a week alone - going to the cinema or going for a walk - so you can get to know exactly what makes you happy, without the burden of trying to keep others happy. But an elastic beaded bracelet and whenever you feel anxiety vreeping up on you, ping it against your skin. This will slice through your thought processes and remind you not to get caught up in a spiral of worrying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114106966485119338?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114106966485119338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114106966485119338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114106966485119338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114106966485119338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/02/4-ways-to-break-habit-you-cant-get-rid.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114095629410442237</id><published>2006-02-25T23:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-26T12:22:35.043Z</updated><title type='text'>...step into it</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Започна от нищо, за това как се прави пунш, после се сбихме, аз се подхлъзнах, той ме повали, притисна ме с коляно, хвана с две ръце гърлото ми, сякаш искаше да ме удуши, а аз се мъчех да извадя ножа от джоба си, да го намушкам и да се освободя. Всички бяха много пияни и нямаше кой да го отмести. Той ме душеше и блъскаше главата ми о пода, но аз измъкнах ножа и го отворих; после срязах мускула на ръката му и той ме пусна. Сега и да искаше, повече не можеше да ме задържи...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ърнест Хемингуей - &lt;a href="http://litclub.dir.bg/library/prev/hemingway/story.html"&gt;След Бурята&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114095629410442237?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114095629410442237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114095629410442237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114095629410442237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114095629410442237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/02/step-into-it.html' title='...step into it'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114154500014272589</id><published>2006-02-23T02:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:24:42.964+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='texts'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Не вярвах, че мога да си построя дворец,&lt;br /&gt;в който да скрия очите на хората,&lt;br /&gt;а в тях намерих сълзите затаени,&lt;br /&gt;минути на болка и страх,&lt;br /&gt;сърцата им тъжно опустели.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Не вярвах, че мога да забравя, че горда съм била&lt;br /&gt;спестявах умора от думи превърнати в лъжи,&lt;br /&gt;останах без сълзи да те моля,&lt;br /&gt;за миг поне се смили,&lt;br /&gt;лъжи ме, че пак ще бъда твоя&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Не вярвах, че мога да си построя дворец,&lt;br /&gt;в който да скрия мечтите на хората,&lt;br /&gt;а в тях намерих надежди разпилени,&lt;br /&gt;минути на болка и страх,&lt;br /&gt;сърцата им тъжно опустели.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Някои думи никога няма да видят бял свят по същата логика,&lt;br /&gt;както много тъга и корист остават закотвени в очите и сърцето&lt;br /&gt;завинаги. Докато спомените са живи.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sayin I love you&lt;br /&gt;Is not the words I want to hear from you&lt;br /&gt;Its not that I want you not to say&lt;br /&gt;But if you only knew&lt;br /&gt;How easy it would be to show me how you feel&lt;br /&gt;More than words is all you have to do to make it real&lt;br /&gt;Then you wouldnt have to say&lt;br /&gt;That you love me&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'd already know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you do&lt;br /&gt;If my heart was torn in two&lt;br /&gt;More than words to show you feel&lt;br /&gt;That your love for me is real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114154500014272589?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114154500014272589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114154500014272589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114154500014272589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114154500014272589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/02/blog-post_22.html' title=''/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114154514714989662</id><published>2006-02-12T04:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-05T07:52:27.156Z</updated><title type='text'>Франц Кафка - Малката жена</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Това е малка жена; макар и твърде стройна по природа, все пак тя е здраво стегната в корсет; винаги я виждам в една и съща рокля от жълто-сив плат, почти с цвят на дървесина, обкичена тук-там с ресни или с подобни на копчета висулки; тя никога не носи шапка, матоворусите й коси са прави и ако не в безпорядък, то все пак се спускат доста свободно. Въпреки че е стегната в корсет, жената е лесно подвижна, впрочем тя преувеличава тази подвижност, обича да слага ръце на хълбоците си и изненадващо бързо със замах да извърта встрани горната половина на тялото си. Впечатлението, което ми правят ръцете й, мога да предам само като кажа, че досега не съм виждал друга длан с тъй рязко отделени един от друг пръсти; но ръцете й съвсем не се отличават с някаква анатомическа особеност, това са напълно нормални ръце.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Тази малка жена обаче е много недоволна от мене, вечно намира за какво да ме упрекне, винаги с нещо я огорчавам, възмущавам я на всяка крачка; ако животът можеше да се раздели на най-дребни частици и те се оценят поотделно, то положително всяка частица от моя живот би предизвикала у нея възмущение. Често съм размислял защо така я възмущавам; може би пък всичко в мен противоречи на нейния естетически усет и чувство за справедливост, на нейните привички, традиции, надежди; има подобни противоположни натури, но защо тя толкова страда от това? Та отношенията ни съвсем не са от такъв род, че да я принуждават да страда заради мене. Нужно е тя само да реши, че съм й напълно чужд, както е в действителност, и аз няма да възразя на подобно решение, дори бих го приветствал; нужно е тя само да реши да забрави моето съществуване, което впрочем никога не съм й натрапвал или пък ще натрапя - и цялото й страдание очевидно ще премине. Тук аз изобщо не говоря за себе си, за това, че естествено държането й ме гнети, не говоря, понеже добре разбирам, че моето угнетение е нищо в сравнение с нейното страдание. При което впрочем отлично съзнавам, че то не е "любещо страдание; тя съвсем не се стреми в същност да ме поправи, тъй като всичко, за каквото ме упреква, не е от естество да попречи на житейското ми преуспяване. Обаче моето житейско преуспяване ни най-малко не я интересува, нищо друго не я интересува освен собствената й цел - а именно да отмъсти за причиняваната й от мене мъка и да избегне мъката, с която я застрашавам в бъдеще. Веднъж вече се опитах да й посоча как най-лесно би могла да сложи край на нестихващото си възмущение, но тъкмо с това я докарах до такава възбуда, че повече не ще повторя този опит.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Върху мен тежи, ако щете, също известна отговорност, защото колкото и да ми е чужда малката жена, макар отношенията ни да се изчерпват единствено с възмущението, което предизвиквам у нея или по-точно - което тя си позволява да изпитва, аз все пак не мога да гледам равнодушно как тя просто физически страда от своето възмущение. Сегиз-тогиз до мен достигат вести - напоследък все по-често, - че тя пак била сутринта бледа, недоспала, измъчена от главоболие и почти негодна за работа; с това тя създава грижи на близките си, те гадаят причините за състоянието й, но досега не са ги открили. Единствено аз ги зная, те се коренят в старото и вечно подновявано възмущение. Впрочем аз не споделям грижите на близките й; тя е силна и жилава жена; а който е способен тъй да се възмущава, вероятно е способен и да се справя с последиците от възмущението си; дори подозирам, че тя - поне отчасти - приема страдалчески образ само за да насочи по този, начин подозренията на света върху мен. Тя е прекалено горда, за да признае открито как я измъчвам със своето съществуване; да се обърне към други за помощ би било за нея твърде унизително; единствено от неприязън, от непрестанна, вечно подтикваща я неприязън тя се занимава с мен и да изложи пред обществото тази нечиста история не би го понесло чувството й за срам. Но тя, също тъй не може да понесе съвсем да мълчи за историята, чието бреме непрекъснато изпитва. Ето как в своята женска хитрост тя опитва среден път; безмълвно, само чрез външните признаци на едно скрито страдание иска да изнесе случая пред съда на обществото. Може би дори се надява, че ако обществото отправи изцяло погледа си към мен, ще се надигне всеобщо публично възмущение, което с могъщата си власт ще ме осъди окончателно много по-решително и бързо, отколкото е по силите на нейното все пак сравнително по-слабо лично възмущение; тогава обаче тя ще се отдръпне, ще въздъхне облекчено и ще ми обърне гръб. Е, ако наистина това са нейните надежди, тя се заблуждава. Обществото няма да поеме ролята й; обществото никога не ще намери тъй безкрайно много неща, за които да ме упрекне, дори да ме вземе под най-строго наблюдение. Аз не съм чак толкова безполезен човек, както тя си мисли; не искам да се хваля, особено по този повод; но макар и да не се отличавам с изключителни способности, все пак сигурно няма да направя впечатление с обратното; единствено за нея, само в нейните почти лъчезарни очи аз съм такъв, ала тя не ще успее да го внуши на никого. Тъй че бих ли могъл да съм напълно спокоен в това отношение? Не, съвсем не; понеже ако наистина се разчуе, че направо я разболявам с държането си - а някои сплетници, именно най-усърдните вестоносци, вече са на път да прозрат това или поне си дават вид, че го прозират, - ако светът дойде и ми зададе въпроса защо измъчвам с непоправимостта си бедната малка жена, нима смятам да я вкарам в гроба, кога най-после ще се вразумя, ще проявя обикновено човешко съчувствие и ще престана, - ако светът ме запита така, ще ми е трудно да му отговоря. Ще трябва ли тогава да призная, че много не вярвам на онези болестни признаци и тъй да създам досадното впечатление, че отхвърлям една вина, като я стоварвам другиму, и то по такъв груб начин? А бих ли могьл открито да заявя, че дори да вярвах в някакво действително заболяване, пак не бих проявил и най-слабо съчувствие, понеже жената ми е напълно чужда, а отношенията помежду ни са създадени от нея и ги поддържа единствено тя? Не искам да кажа, че никой няма да ми повярва; по-скоро хората и ще вярват, и няма да вярват, ала не биха отронили дума, просто ще си отбележат моя отговор по повод на една слаба, болна жена, а това няма да е съвсем благоприятно за мен. Тук, както и при всеки друг отговор, аз ще се сблъскам с упоритата неспособност на света да си представи в случай като нашия други отношения, освен любовни, макар да е ясно като бял ден, че такива отношения не съществуват, а дори да съществуваха, щяха да изхождат по-скоро от мене, защото все пак именно аз бих бил в състояние да се възхитя от съкрушителните преценки и неуморните умозаключения на малката жена, стига да не бях постоянно наказван от тъкмо тези нейни достойнства. Впрочем у нея не се забелязва и следа от сърдечно отношение към мен; тук тя е пряма и откровена; на това се гради последната ми надежда; дори да е полезно за военната й тактика да внуши впечатлението за подобно отношение, тя не би се самозабравила да постъпи така. Ала напълно безчувственото в тази насока общество ще отстоява мнението си и винаги ще се произнася против мен.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ето че в същност не ми остава нищо друго, освен своевременно, преди да се намеси светът, да се променя - не за да смиря възмущението на малката жена, което е немислимо, но все пак да го посмекча. И наистина често съм се питал дали сегашното ми положение дотолкова ме задоволява, че не чувствам никакво желание да го преобразя и не е ли все пак възможно да предприема известни промени в себе си, макар и не от убеждение в тяхната необходимост, а само за да успокоя жената. И съм правил честни опити, не без усилие и старание, те дори ме задоволяваха, почти ме развличаха; някои промени се очертаха, забелязваха се отдалеч и не бе нужно да ги посочвам на малката жена, тя съзира тези неща преди мен, съзира още израза на намерение в моята същност; но успех не ми бе отреден. И как би било възможно? Та недоволството й от мен, както сега вече проумявам, е изначално; нищо не е в състояние да го премахне, дори премахваването на самия мене; гневът й при вестта за моето самоубийство би бил безграничен. Ето защо не мога да си представя, че тази проницателна жена не проумява тъй добре, както и аз - и то не само безнаеждността на усилията си, но и моята невинност, неспособността ми дори при най-добро желание да задоволя изискванията й. Сигурно го проумява, но като борческа натура го забравя в порива на битката; а моята злочеста особеност, която обаче не съм избрал аз и не мога да променя, понеже такава ми е дадена, се състои в това, че на изгубилия самообладание искам да прошепна в ухото тихо предупреждение. Но по този начин, разбира се, никога няма да стигнем до споразумение. Отново и отново ще излизам от дома си с радостта на първите утринни часове и ще виждам това помрачено от мен лице, ядно нацупените устни, изпитателния и предварително знаещ резултата поглед, който се плъзва над мен и нищо не пропуска, колкото й да е бегъл, горчивата, врязала се в моминските страни усмивка, жаловно вдигнатите към небето очи, сложените на хълбоците длани за устойчивост, а сетне побледняването и потрисането от негодувание.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Напоследък си позволих - впрочем за първи път, както сам с изненада установих - да понамекна на един добър приятел за тази история, съвсем между другото, само с няколко думи, при това принизих значението на всичко, колкото и нищожно да е за мен на външен вид, още малко под действителното. Странно, че все пак приятелят ми не се направи на глух, а дори сам придаде на случая по-голямо значение, не позволи да отклоня вниманието му и настоя на своето. Впрочем още по-странно е, че въпреки това той недооцени историята в един важен пункт, защото най-сериозно ме посъветва да замина за известно време. Едва ли можеше да има по-безразсъден съвет; макар нещата да са прости и всеки да е в състояние да ги проумее, стига да ги погледне по-отблизо, все пак не са и чак толкова прости, че да се оправи всичко или поне най-важното с моето отпътуване. Тъкмо обратното, по-скоро трябва да се пазя да не отпътувам; ако изобщо ще следвам някаква тактика, във всеки случай ще е тази да задържа историята в досегашните й тесни, още невключващи външния свят рамки, тоест да остана спокойно на мястото, където съм и да не допускам големи, наложени от тази история очебийни промени, а това ще рече и да не говоря с никого - не защото крия някаква опасна тайна, но защото случаят е чисто личен и в този си вид лесно поносим; нека си остане такъв. Ето че забележките на приятеля все пак бяха от полза; макар и да не ми откриха нищо ново, те укрепиха становището ми.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Изобщо при по-внимателно обмисляне се оказа, че настъпилите с течение на времето промени в положението не са промени в самата история, а представляват единствено развитието на моя възглед за нея, в смисъл че този възглед става отчасти по-спокоен, по-мъжествен и се приближава повече до същността, отчасти обаче под непреодолимото въздействие на постоянните потреси, колкото и леки да са те, придобива известна нервност.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;По-спокойно се отнасям към историята, когато уж разбирам, че макар понякога да изглежда предстояща, развръзката все пак навярно още няма да настъпи; човек е склонен, особено на младини, да надценява скоропостижността на развръзките; колкото пъти моята малка съдница само при вида ми се е свличала в изнемога настрани на стола, хващала се е с една ръка за облегалото, другата е прокарвала по стегнатата си в корсет снага, а сълзи на гняв и отчаяние са руквали по страните й, винаги съм си мислел, че това е развръзката и че начаса ще ме призоват за обяснение. Ала нито развръзка, нито обяснения, на жените лесно им прилошава, светът няма време да следи за всички случаи. И какво в същност е станало за всичките тези години? Нищо друго, освен че подобни сцени са се повтаряли - ту по-бурни, ту по-сдържани - и сега общият им брой просто е нараснал. А наблизо се въртят хора, готови да се намесят, стига да намерят възможност; но не намират и досега се осланят единствено на своя усет, а макар усетът сам да е достатъчен, за да запълни дните на своя притежател, за друго не е годен. Но впрочем така е било винаги, винаги е имало тези безполезни съгледвачи и надушвачи, които вечно оправдават присъствието си по някакъв свръххитър начин, най-често с роднинските си връзки, те винаги са следели, винаги са надушвали нещо с усета си, ала резултатът от всичко това е, че и досега тъпчат на едно място. Цялата разлика е там, че лека-полека съм ги опознал, различавам физиономиите им; някога си мислех, че с време те ще се завтекат отвсякъде, измеренията на случая ще се уголемят и това от само себе си ще ускори развръзката; днес съм сигурен, че всичко е било тъй от памтивека и има твърде малко или дори няма нищо общо с приближаването на развръзката. А самата развръзка - защо я наричам с такава гръмка дума? Ако някога - положително не утре, нито вдругиден и вероятно никога - се стигне дотам все пак обществото да се заеме с тази история, която, както винаги ще повтарям, не е от неговата компетентност, макар да не изляза неощетен от заведения процес, навярно обаче ще се вземе пред вид, че не съм непознат на обществото, открай време живея под зоркия му поглед, изпълнен съм с доверие и сам заслужавам доверие, а също, че тази по-късно изникнала страдаща малка жена (в която между впрочем всеки друг сигурно отдавна би видял досаден репей и би го стъпкал с ботуша си съвсем незабелязано за обществото), че тази жена в най-лошия случай би могла само да прибави малка грозна завъртулка към атестата, в който обществото отдавна ме е обявило за свой достопочтен член. Такова е днешното положение на нещата, следователно има слаби основания за безпокойство.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;А че с годините все пак съм станал малко неспокоен, няма нищо общо с истинското значение на историята; човек просто не издържа непрестанно да се възмущават от него, дори отлично да съзнава неоснователността на възмущението, човек става неспокоен, започва като че чисто физически да се напряга в очакване на развръзките, макар с разума си много да не вярва в настъпването им. Отчасти обаче се касае просто за възрастово явление; младостта вижда всичко в розова светлина; некрасивите подробности потъват в несекващия извор на младежка сила; ако някой като момче е имал малко напрегнат поглед, не са му се сърдили за това, никой не го е забелязвал, дори самият той, но остане ли нещо от този поглед в по-късна възраст, то са отпадъци; всеки е потребен, никого не подменят, всеки е под наблюдение и напрегнатият поглед на един възрастен човек си е чисто и просто напрегнат поглед, не е никак трудно да се установи. Ето че й тук няма съществено влошаване.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Следователно откъдето и да погледна нещата, отново и отново се оказва, и аз ще се придържам към това, че стига съвсем леко да прикривам тази малка история, ще мога необезпокояван от света още доста дълго да карам спокойно досегашния си живот, въпреки цялата ярост на жената.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114154514714989662?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114154514714989662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114154514714989662' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114154514714989662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114154514714989662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/02/blog-post_11.html' title='Франц Кафка - Малката жена'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20738743.post-114154508578118385</id><published>2006-01-29T01:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-03T03:24:27.350+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='articles'/><title type='text'>Карма</title><content type='html'># Кармата представлява реализация на всемирния космически закон за причините и следствията. Според него всяка една причина поражда определено последствие. С всяка своя постъпка ние пораждаме съответно добри или лоши за нас последствия. Действията ни задвиждат неотвратимо и фатално колелото на собствената ни съдба. Извършвайки дадена постъпка в настоящето, трябва да бъдем готови да понесем в пълна степен нейните последици в бъдещите си прераждания. Или както казва народната мъдрост : каквото посееш, това ще пожънеш.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# Съществува тясна връзка между кармичната предопределеност и астрологичния хороскоп. Хороскопът изразява влиянието на постъпките ни в минали прераждания, проявяващи се сега чрез содиакалното предопределение на съдбата.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# Нашите чувства, мисли и действия във всеки един живот се отпечатват в Космическата памет. Според спецификата си всяко деяние се класифицира в съответната папка или директория т.е. в съответната област в паметта на универсалния компютър. Дирекотриите на космическия компютър са всъщност планетите на Зодиака. Всяко наше дело под формата на файл се адресира и прехвърля в съответната директория. Така всеки има свое лично досие в Космичния архив, което съдържа всички данни за него. Лошите ни постъпки трупат в нашата сметка дълг от негативната Карма, който впоследствие трябва да изплатим с лихвите. Добрите ни постъпки, от своя страна, формират позитивната Карма, която ще донесе дивиденти в следващия ни живот. такава е строгата и неумолима логика на съдбата.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# Съдбовната предопредленост, или влиянието на звездите, се отразява върху цялостната структура на човека. Негативната Карма се проявява особено силно във физически план, тоест тя действа най-видимо на грубата материя на физическия свят. Разбира се, съществува начин Кармата да бъде променена в позитивна посока.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# Тъй като кармичните предопределения се реализират първоначално на пет нива (физическо,етерно,астрално,ментално и духовно), ние можем да облекчим негативните кармични последствия като извършим съзнателна, целенасочена и интензивна работа на всяко от тези равнища. Всъщност те са разделени твърде условно, тъй като на практика се преливат едно в друго. За целта трябва да извършим необходимата компенсираща работа във всяко едно от изброените пет нива, като на самото ниво, така и в следващия по-висш план. Например, за да подобрим физическите си качества, освен някаква подходяща форма на физкултура, трябва да работим върху ефирното си тяло, тъй като от его зависят функциите на физическото.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# По принцип в момента на раждането върху ефирните тела на човека се отпечатва влиянието на звездите. Фините ефирни тела се формират преди физическото тяло и всъщност определят неговата форма. в процеса на настоящата си инкарнация човек тъче, изработва своите ефирни тела, които се обличат в плът и кръв при следващото му прераждане. Следователно, за да постигнем благоприятно бъдещо прераждане, трябва да живеем правилно от гледна точка на космическия порядък в настоящия си живот.&lt;br /&gt;# Когато живо същество се появи на Земята, Небесата слагат печат върху ефирните тела и така определят хороскопа, в който е записана съдбата му. С други думи информационната матрица на личноста се кодира в ефирните тела. Това дава възможност предопределението на съдбата да бъде променено чрез промяна на кода в матрицата на ефирните тела. Това става чрез водене на "разумен и чист начин на живот".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# В светлината на учението за Кармата раждането и смъртта са относителни категории. Когато човек умира, той всъщност се освобождава от своето физическо тяло, т.е. от празната черупка на своята външна форма. Неговите фини тела обаче се възвръщат към своето по-висше битие, обогатени с опита, натрупан от проявлението им в плътната форма, Този цикъл се повтаря многократно, докато личността се изчисти от заблудите и осъзнае своята истинска Божествена природа.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# За да предичвикате позитивна Карма, добрите ви постъпки трябва да бъдат напълно безкористни. Една възможност човек да се освободи от ограниченията, предписани му от звездите в момента на неговото раждане и да разкъса оковите на Кармата, е съзнателно да се стреми към възстановяване нишките, свързващи го с "твореца". Така той ще излезе от закона на необходимостта и ще попадне под влиянието на закона на милосърдието.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20738743-114154508578118385?l=stella-steffanova.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/feeds/114154508578118385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20738743&amp;postID=114154508578118385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114154508578118385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20738743/posts/default/114154508578118385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stella-steffanova.blogspot.com/2006/01/blog-post.html' title='Карма'/><author><name>stella</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01648319686950175660</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cE3RO_M6MHE/TMyJKP_Rq5I/AAAAAAAAANM/AZSNMbyq5sA/S220/stella-avatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
