Început de Anonymus Kline, Lun 26 nov 2007 · 1.015 răspunsuri · 88.408 vizualizări
P r o z a c a scris:...culmea e ca atunci cand ma confrunt cu lucruri care pe altii i-ar face sa verse rauri, mie nu-mi curge nici macar o lacrima. si nu suport sa ma vada cineva plangand, nu-mi place sa fac un spectacol din lacrimile mele. ...
interesant mai ales ca tot vad pe la tv oameni care plang si ma intreb ce ii determina sa o faca pe micul ecran - asta le rezolva problemele !!?? -_-
eu plang cand ma astept mai putin 
Acum.
Abc2009ro a scris:Acum.
Linisteste-te, nu esti la capat de drum. Tu plangi acum pentru o idee, atat. Maine o sa ai alte idei si-o sa te miri de ce naiba ai plans acum si ca oricum ideea nu era asa buna.
Deci doar un pic de rabdare iti trebuie si-ti vei gasi in final locul. 
Din fericire, acum sunt cu cineva care ma face sa ma bucur de viata. Alaltaieri plans-am pentru ca nu reuseam sa invat.
Deh, ce intrebare.
Daca ma uit la televizor, precis gasesc oricand ceva care ma faca sa plang, sunt un plangacios, plangaret, lacrimogenos, oare diferenta dintre mine si o grenada lacrimogena care sa fie? Aha stiu, eu imi servesc singur mingea pe care o returnez apoi, aha, m-am prins. 
Cand am auzit o melodie trista si totusi nespus de frumoasa.
i0an a scris:Daca ma uit la televizor, precis gasesc oricand ceva care ma faca sa plang, sunt un plangacios, plangaret, lacrimogenos, oare diferenta dintre mine si o grenada lacrimogena care sa fie?
Idem.
Afara e carnaval si dureaza doua zile; mai nimeni nu lucreaza, decat cei din supermarket, asa ca nu m-am gasit eu cal breaz.
Dar nu stiu ce pana mea fac asculatnd cantece triste.
A great crowd had gathered outside of Kilmeinhem,
With their heads uncovered they knelt on the ground.
From inside that grim prison lay a brave Irish soldier,
His life for his country about to lay down.
He went to his death like a true son of Ireland,
The firing party he bravely did face,
Then the order rang out: "Present Arms, Fire!"
James Connolly fell into a ready-made grave.
The black flag they hoisted the cruel deed was over,
Gone was the man who loved Ireland so well.
There was many a sad heart in Dublin that morning,
When they murdered James Connolly, the Irish Rebel!.
God's curse on you, England, you cruel-hearted monster
Your deeds they would shame all the devils in hell.
There are no flowers blooming but the shamrock is growing
On the grave of James Connolly, the Irish Rebel!.
Many years have rolled by since that Irish rebellion,
When the guns of Britannia they loudly did speak.
The bold I.R.A. they stood shoulder to shoulder,
And the blood from their bodies flowed down Sackville Street.
The Four Courts of Dublin the English bombarded,
The spirit of Freedom they tried hard to quell.
For above all the din rose the cry 'No Surrender,'
'Twas the voice of James Cannolly, the Irish Rebel.
De mult nu mi-am mai facut upgrade la suflet.
Damn si eu care am intrat repede cand am vazut ca esti tu ultimul postator, caci speram sa fi citit "tocmai am terminat de plans....usuc tastatura". 
In cazul meu, ar fi chiar recomandat doar sa plang, daca ma enervez.