<?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-11531023</id><updated>2011-11-28T02:21:38.583+01:00</updated><category term='per farvi un po&apos; di cazzi miei'/><category term='merdolina secca'/><category term='pensando a quel che scrivesti..'/><category term='let&apos;s go orticariandin&apos;'/><category term='let&apos;g orticariandin&apos;'/><category term='inorridiamo'/><title type='text'>Donna del Mare</title><subtitle type='html'>il meglio di una vita ancora in discussione</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1149</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-5171356741533184040</id><published>2011-10-25T07:05:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T07:10:05.203+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ritornare a Milano da lavoratori è diverso. Non vivi tanto la città-la nebbia (quale?in 7 è stata rara).. non vivi tanto il caos..la puzza della gente. L'unico momento di stress sembra essere solo quello in cui sali sulla metro la mattina. Se esci alle 8.00, trovi solo bordello. alle 8.05 il flusso di dimezza. Entusiasmante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il mio lavoro mi piace, e credo di esserci portata. Fare l'assistente-del-capo e fare il training per diventare responsabile-settore-amministrativo non è male, sopratutto per una che di matematica non capisce un cazzo. Ma ci sono le calcolatrici.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il lavoro è arrivato per caso e tramite amicizie, non c'è stato assolutamente un vero e proprio colloquio,ma una prova di un giorno,che loro hanno messo come "cosi segui il convegno e vedi se ti piace quello che facciamo". E vabeh,io non sono una che sa fare la ospite,comunque. Per convincere mia suocera a farmi apparecchiare la tavola ci ho messo un po',ma non so stare con le mani in mano. E così, aiutavo. E loro hanno apprezzato. Meno male.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coi capi va tutto bene,e anche coi colleghi. Il che  è molto positivo.&lt;br /&gt;Il tipo di azienda mi piace, questo perchè si tratta sempre e comunque di cosmetica,e la estetista mancata che è in me..è tornata alla carica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho perso quasi 7 kg.&lt;br /&gt;E non c'entra il lavoro. C'entra la testa.&lt;br /&gt;Sono contenta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la felicità è un'altra cosa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-5171356741533184040?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/5171356741533184040/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=5171356741533184040' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5171356741533184040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5171356741533184040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2011/10/ritornare-milano-da-lavoratori-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-2727289499789556499</id><published>2011-10-24T06:57:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T06:57:45.515+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Milano mi ha richiamata a se. Ma questa volta è puro prestigio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-2727289499789556499?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/2727289499789556499/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=2727289499789556499' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2727289499789556499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2727289499789556499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2011/10/milano-mi-ha-richiamata-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6619343104804267408</id><published>2011-06-28T10:45:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T10:50:37.556+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e cosi..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6619343104804267408?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6619343104804267408/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6619343104804267408' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6619343104804267408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6619343104804267408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2011/06/e-cosi.html' title='e cosi..'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-3097043500419517474</id><published>2011-01-06T09:35:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T09:36:37.942+01:00</updated><title type='text'>anno passato..inizia quello nuovo..</title><content type='html'>la donna del mare vorrebbe tornare, ma questa pagina non mi rappresenta più, non ora. Sto cambiando, sto evolvendo o involvendo, non lo so.. resta il fatto che questo blog.. forse, resterà così..vuotino.. forse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;buon 2011!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-3097043500419517474?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/3097043500419517474/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=3097043500419517474' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3097043500419517474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3097043500419517474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2011/01/anno-passatoinizia-quello-nuovo.html' title='anno passato..inizia quello nuovo..'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-1697782302385424491</id><published>2010-10-08T13:38:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T13:39:47.296+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e  cosi...</title><content type='html'>prima argentina&lt;br /&gt;poi inghilterra&lt;br /&gt;ora germania..e a fine mese.. spagna..&lt;br /&gt;what else?&lt;br /&gt;this is the life i Want to live.&lt;br /&gt;Magari con mio marito accanto. FFF&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-1697782302385424491?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/1697782302385424491/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=1697782302385424491' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1697782302385424491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1697782302385424491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/10/e-cosi.html' title='e  cosi...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4433637899357093269</id><published>2010-08-07T10:34:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T10:36:34.225+02:00</updated><title type='text'>E così...</title><content type='html'>succede che in un bar del paese,abbastanza conosciuto da ME e non solo, i miei vadano a sedersi ai tavolini per bere qualcosa e NESSUNO si avvicina per cheidere se volessero bere qualcosa. Nessuno dei proprietari che sono anche camerieri.&lt;br /&gt;Motivi?&lt;br /&gt;Ignoranza pura :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;credo che sia veramenter questo uno dei motivi per in Sardegna le attività degli autoctoni difficilmente decollano.. troppi rancori per situazioni inutili e magari un po' datate.&lt;br /&gt;Succede.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un po' di sano Daimoku per indirizzare tutti loro.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4433637899357093269?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4433637899357093269/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4433637899357093269' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4433637899357093269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4433637899357093269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/08/e-cosi.html' title='E così...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-7733765333650787059</id><published>2010-05-05T14:50:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T14:51:10.389+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e tu...</title><content type='html'>sei... TU..semplicemente. Non ho molto altro da dire!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-7733765333650787059?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/7733765333650787059/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=7733765333650787059' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7733765333650787059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7733765333650787059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/05/e-tu.html' title='e tu...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-8521044363435463577</id><published>2010-04-22T17:50:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T17:50:38.136+02:00</updated><title type='text'>essere bloccati a londra....</title><content type='html'>non ha prezzo....&lt;br /&gt;sopratutto se easyjet ti sbatte in un hotel ottomilacinquecento stelle AGGRATISE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-8521044363435463577?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/8521044363435463577/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=8521044363435463577' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8521044363435463577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8521044363435463577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/04/essere-bloccati-londra.html' title='essere bloccati a londra....'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-1233363912012074096</id><published>2010-03-25T22:24:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T22:25:41.382+01:00</updated><title type='text'>e si ricomincia...</title><content type='html'>valige, regali..tutto pronto... manca solo l'aereo e martedì mattina.&lt;br /&gt;ciaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaao argentina&lt;br /&gt;:/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-1233363912012074096?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/1233363912012074096/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=1233363912012074096' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1233363912012074096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1233363912012074096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/03/e-si-ricomincia.html' title='e si ricomincia...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-3709761205904136362</id><published>2010-03-25T14:43:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T14:43:45.329+01:00</updated><title type='text'>mi vesto di...</title><content type='html'>PRIMAVERA...&lt;br /&gt;e' tutto meraviglioso..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-3709761205904136362?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/3709761205904136362/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=3709761205904136362' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3709761205904136362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3709761205904136362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/03/mi-vesto-di.html' title='mi vesto di...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-302587704136395307</id><published>2010-03-17T13:51:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T13:56:27.309+01:00</updated><title type='text'>la bambina irrazionale...</title><content type='html'>l'ho rivista stamattina...&lt;br /&gt;era così tenera.&lt;br /&gt;Mi e' apparsa come non la ricordavo, immersa in un dolore che non sapeva nemmeno di provare.&lt;br /&gt;Un bicchiere di latte tiepido: non riusciva a mangiare quella sera, e non sapeva perchè.&lt;br /&gt;Poi una frase, un po' burbera.. lasciata come una freccia. Dritta, fino in fondo.&lt;br /&gt;Le tremavano le mani; cominciava a sentire il dolore scivolare sulla punta delle dita. Ha sentito freddo, ha rivolto gli occhi al soffitto e non ha detto una sola parola.&lt;br /&gt;Per riuscire a comunicare ha dovuto usare un telefono. Squillava, ma non rispondeva.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-302587704136395307?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/302587704136395307/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=302587704136395307' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/302587704136395307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/302587704136395307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/03/la-bambina-irrazionale.html' title='la bambina irrazionale...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-8935873352256109507</id><published>2010-03-16T20:03:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T20:35:06.141+01:00</updated><title type='text'>la differenza</title><content type='html'>tra chi resta e chi parte..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chi resta continua la sua routine; ogni giorno, tutto è decisamente uguale, escludendo qualche fatto rivoluzionario- che so, dico, potrebbe essere una pizza con qualche amico/a, una festa di compleanno, una festa in maschera, un po' di nervoso a lavoro. Chi resta non vede forti cambiamenti, sente solo una grandissima mancanza.&lt;br /&gt;La vita continua lentamente, giorno dopo giorno..ora dopo ora..minuto per minuto, chi resta, percepisce il lento dissolversi del tempo. chi resta.&lt;br /&gt;Chi resta si sente defraudato. Chi resta si sente vuoto per meta'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chi parte.. è triste perche' che dietro di lascia conforto, affetto. Chi parte sa che al ritorno tutto sarà come prima, ed è felice di questo. Chi parte ha paura del viaggio, ha paura di non sapere quello che c'è ad attenderlo.Chi parte vive ogni secondo come una nuova scoperta, ogni secondo è nuovo..ogni minima cosa.&lt;br /&gt;Chi parte poi prova tristezza nel tornare..perchè, seppur felice di quel che ritrova, sa che i momenti vissuti non torneranno più..non sa se rivedrà le persone che hanno camminato con lei in quei giorni, quelle che solo epr pochi minuti si sono affacciate nella sua vita.&lt;br /&gt;Torna, felice di tornare, e triste per dover andare via.&lt;br /&gt;Quersto pensiero è banale,ma è assolutamente reale&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-8935873352256109507?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/8935873352256109507/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=8935873352256109507' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8935873352256109507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8935873352256109507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/03/la-differenza.html' title='la differenza'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-3228539346180932023</id><published>2010-03-04T15:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T15:38:08.506+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Stampando una notizia in grandi lettere, la gente pensa che sia indiscutibilmente vera. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; .. e dire che Borges non conosceva Silvio..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-3228539346180932023?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/3228539346180932023/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=3228539346180932023' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3228539346180932023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3228539346180932023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/03/stampando-una-notizia-in-grandi-lettere.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-2263988905729244516</id><published>2010-03-03T12:53:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T12:59:22.886+01:00</updated><title type='text'>il momento...</title><content type='html'>piu brutto della mia vita l'ho passato stanotte..e stanotte io dormivo e tu mi dicevo "si, lei mi ha biaciato,ma cosa vuoi che sia, e' solo un bacio"..e lei faceva finta di essermi amica come se non sapessi nulla..io ero cosi isterica..mi facevano male le dita da quanto mi avevi ferita... soffrivo..ti dissi non e' niente ma mentivo,piangevo..piangevo..&lt;br /&gt;Ho cercato di farmi baciare da qualcuno per ripagarti con la stessa moneta,tu andavi a dormire tranquillo..nessuno mi voelva perchè io mangiavo mangiavo mangiavo,ero ad una cena,c'era un buffet..io ero addolorata, non c'e aggettivo migliore..tu ridevi, lei mi scriveva fingendosi amica.. tu..tu..ed io...io che mi fidavo di te.. tu che eri l'unico uomo che avevo amato..avevi fatto un altare di erba con la vostra foto ed io soffrivo come non mai..strappavo le foto e scrivevo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"al mio unico grande amore&lt;br /&gt;questo perchè mi hai tradito con quella puttana&lt;br /&gt;sei un bastardo"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E poi ritornavo di notte, al buio,in un posto al mare qui in Argentina,cietro ad un computer..e tu..dietro lo schermo..non potevo telefonarti..volevo prendere l'aereo ma mi sono resa conto che e' cosi..cosi lontano...e tu..tu dormivi,non volevi essere disturbato,dicevi che ero esagerata a stare cosi male..&lt;br /&gt;ma io so come baci tu,io so chi sei quando baci una donna..io  non posso tollerare..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho pensato,guardandomi allo specchio, i miei capelli lunghi,le sopracciglia così belle.. mi dicevo "se tu non fossi tu, diresti alla donna tradita di lasciare il suo uomo"..ma e' facile parlare quando non si e' dentro ai problemi, siamo tutti bravi a dare consigli logici che, se si tratta di sentimenti, diventano pure illogicita'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ti ho amato. Ti ho odiato.&lt;br /&gt;Poi ho aperto gli occhi...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-2263988905729244516?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/2263988905729244516/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=2263988905729244516' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2263988905729244516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2263988905729244516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/03/il-momento.html' title='il momento...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4127325939460072673</id><published>2010-03-03T03:53:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T03:55:41.197+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fotos0.mundofotos.net/2009/05_04_2009/funny_flowers1238933724/parfque-con-cerezos-en-flor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 720px; height: 540px;" src="http://fotos0.mundofotos.net/2009/05_04_2009/funny_flowers1238933724/parfque-con-cerezos-en-flor.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4127325939460072673?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4127325939460072673/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4127325939460072673' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4127325939460072673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4127325939460072673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/03/quiero-hacer-contigo-lo-que-la.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-2915289757652527796</id><published>2010-02-27T05:46:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T05:46:42.027+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>is that what friends are for?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-2915289757652527796?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/2915289757652527796/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=2915289757652527796' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2915289757652527796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2915289757652527796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/02/is-that-what-friends-are-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-2802539330352371376</id><published>2010-02-09T18:50:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T18:51:19.608+01:00</updated><title type='text'>per ragioni personali</title><content type='html'>ho reso il blog dei viaggi accessibile solo ad inviti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Per il resto,in questo blog sto scrivendo così poco che non credo scrivero' ancora e oltre...se non per comunicazioni di servizio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Bientot!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-2802539330352371376?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/2802539330352371376/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=2802539330352371376' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2802539330352371376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2802539330352371376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/02/per-ragioni-personali.html' title='per ragioni personali'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-91633622207792615</id><published>2010-02-09T04:38:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T04:38:54.900+01:00</updated><title type='text'>rio de janeiro</title><content type='html'>impagabile. Sopratutto se hai una amica che ci vive..e ti puoi godere il suo meraviglioso figlio di 10 anni!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-91633622207792615?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/91633622207792615/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=91633622207792615' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/91633622207792615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/91633622207792615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/02/rio-de-janeiro.html' title='rio de janeiro'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4816214788218331998</id><published>2010-01-28T13:35:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T13:36:14.758+01:00</updated><title type='text'>..anche i silenzi lo sai...hanno parole...</title><content type='html'>e questa è chiaramente NON per Angelo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Che mi manca terribilmente ma che sento vicino come non mai. Unico.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4816214788218331998?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4816214788218331998/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4816214788218331998' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4816214788218331998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4816214788218331998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/01/anche-i-silenzi-lo-saihanno-parole.html' title='..anche i silenzi lo sai...hanno parole...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-5709245577613375170</id><published>2010-01-27T13:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T13:27:37.936+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="testo"&gt;Signor Capitano mi liberi le mani&lt;br /&gt;non ho fatto mai del male a nessuno&lt;br /&gt;sono piegato di fronte a questa vita &lt;br /&gt;io sono, sono un prigioniero &lt;br /&gt;e poi non vede, non vede la mia pena &lt;br /&gt;non capisce i miei pensieri n&lt;br /&gt;on vede come viviamo non vede che non amiamo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signor Capitano dove sono le risposte alle tante lettere spedite &lt;br /&gt;e poi mi dica, mi dica dove siamo &lt;br /&gt;e che stiamo ancora aspettando... &lt;br /&gt;non vede come viviamo, non vede cosa facciamo &lt;br /&gt;non vede non crede...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liberatemi, liberatemi dalla noia e dalla confusione, &lt;br /&gt;liberatemi, liberatemi &lt;br /&gt;le mie mani devono applaudire &lt;br /&gt;liberatemi, liberatemi dalle mille più di mille paure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signor Capitano ho i sogni tra le mani non ho fatto mai del m&lt;br /&gt;ale a nessuno&lt;br /&gt;domande facili, difficili risposte quanto falso e quanta indifferenza &lt;br /&gt;e dai piccolo diavoli sono quelli che fanno più male &lt;br /&gt;non vede non respiriamo non vede stiamo morendo, non vede non crede... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liberatemi, liberatemi le mie mani devono applaudire liberatemi, liberatemi qui c'è buio non so quando è domani &lt;br /&gt;liberatemi (liberatelo!) liberatemi (liberatelo!) &lt;br /&gt;LIBERATEMI !!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bisogna dire la verità &lt;br /&gt;nessuno dice la verità &lt;br /&gt;ho una gran voglia di vivere desiderare, decidere. &lt;br /&gt;Mi hanno rubato la libertà, è a pochi metri la libertà &lt;br /&gt;sono innocente è un equivoco, fatemi uscire da qui, fatemi uscire da qui! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;liberatemi, liberatemi le mie mani devono applaudire &lt;br /&gt;liberatemi, liberatemi qui c'è buio non so quando è domani &lt;br /&gt;liberatemi (liberatelo!)&lt;br /&gt;liberatemi (liberatelo!) &lt;br /&gt;LIBERATEMI!!! &lt;br /&gt;Diciamo la verità...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-5709245577613375170?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/5709245577613375170/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=5709245577613375170' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5709245577613375170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5709245577613375170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/01/signor-capitano-mi-liberi-le-mani-non.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-738995870582092865</id><published>2010-01-26T00:16:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T00:17:46.089+01:00</updated><title type='text'>....I wish those days...</title><content type='html'>E' una canzone che adoro,che mi ricorda questa estate quando Angelo la cantava..e ci guardavamo negli occhi. Sono cambiate molte cose..e lui mi manca da morire!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-738995870582092865?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/738995870582092865/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=738995870582092865' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/738995870582092865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/738995870582092865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-wish-those-days.html' title='....I wish those days...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-5988717810334714561</id><published>2010-01-23T01:41:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T01:43:08.866+01:00</updated><title type='text'>che dire?</title><content type='html'>beh... buffo,ma devo dirlo..&lt;br /&gt;non amo piu questo blog.. e' stato parte di molti periodi della mia vita e sinceramente non mi va molto-&lt;br /&gt;L mia vita,quella che vivo ora, con l'uomo dei miei sogni al mio fianco..è la mia VERA vita.. non rinnego nulla.. ma questo è quello che doveva essere..e ora..e ora sono una donna felice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vi saluto dall'argentina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e che qualcuno se ne vada pure a fare in culo!!!!&lt;br /&gt;hahaha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-5988717810334714561?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/5988717810334714561/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=5988717810334714561' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5988717810334714561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5988717810334714561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/01/che-dire.html' title='che dire?'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-2303379389961742696</id><published>2010-01-17T17:22:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T17:22:22.972+01:00</updated><title type='text'>eccomi!</title><content type='html'>l'argentina è unica!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-2303379389961742696?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/2303379389961742696/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=2303379389961742696' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2303379389961742696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2303379389961742696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2010/01/eccomi.html' title='eccomi!'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-3110891083597242745</id><published>2009-12-12T18:42:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T18:44:58.649+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Alla faccia di chi mi invidia perchè, avendo festeggiato la mia prima pubblicazione (e non su un blog,ma per un ente di tutto rispetto, ovvero l'università di Milano), dice che la mia punteggiatura non è corretta. E dire che prima che venisse pubblicato, lo hanno letto ben 3 docenti universitari!&lt;br /&gt;ma si sa, l'invidia è una cosa brutta... eppure una persona mi ha detto ieri che devo gioire dell'essere invidiata, significa che valgo e che c'è gente che vale meno di me che vorrebbe essere come me..&lt;br /&gt;Non esageriamo...sicuramente IO non voglio essere come loro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tutto si muove per il verso giusto..il fiume scorre,lentamente..qualche cadavere pure e io...sto a guardare,con calma..seduta ad aspettare mi godo questo tepore invernale che sa di primavera...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-3110891083597242745?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/3110891083597242745/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=3110891083597242745' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3110891083597242745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3110891083597242745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/12/alla-faccia-di-chi-mi-invidia-perche.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-2402631225524814952</id><published>2009-11-27T09:34:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T09:46:26.134+01:00</updated><title type='text'>sto bene</title><content type='html'>sto molto molto bene.&lt;br /&gt;Ho molta voglia di fare, di esplorare e quindi questi mesi che verranno saranno il momento giusto.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-2402631225524814952?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/2402631225524814952/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=2402631225524814952' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2402631225524814952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2402631225524814952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/11/sto-bene.html' title='sto bene'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-3966599808504884211</id><published>2009-11-20T11:11:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T11:12:22.707+01:00</updated><title type='text'>e chi si accontenta...gode?</title><content type='html'>direi di no.&lt;br /&gt;Non mi sono mai accontentata e ora sto godendo da matti.&lt;br /&gt;In particolare, ecco a voi &lt;a href="http://riviste.unimi.it/index.php/AMonline/article/view/323/466"&gt;questa&lt;/a&gt; perla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e chi vuol rosicare, rosichi pure :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-3966599808504884211?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/3966599808504884211/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=3966599808504884211' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3966599808504884211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3966599808504884211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/11/e-chi-si-accontentagode.html' title='e chi si accontenta...gode?'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-5982174201695991225</id><published>2009-10-25T21:07:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T21:07:48.580+01:00</updated><title type='text'>if this is love</title><content type='html'>and this is SOOOO love.&lt;br /&gt;So much shining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, fatto il biglietto per BA.&lt;br /&gt;AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-5982174201695991225?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/5982174201695991225/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=5982174201695991225' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5982174201695991225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5982174201695991225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/10/if-this-is-love.html' title='if this is love'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-7856201436869209492</id><published>2009-09-29T09:29:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T09:29:29.037+02:00</updated><title type='text'>prove tecniche..</title><content type='html'>va alla grande :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-7856201436869209492?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/7856201436869209492/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=7856201436869209492' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7856201436869209492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7856201436869209492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/09/prove-tecniche.html' title='prove tecniche..'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6423540759528242948</id><published>2009-09-20T16:54:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T16:58:07.049+02:00</updated><title type='text'>regrego..</title><content type='html'>regreso...&lt;br /&gt;sto tornando a casa,in qualche modo.&lt;br /&gt;Erano anni che volevo farlo e adesso vivo in un momento di congiunzioni astrali, sentimentali e lavorative per cui si..forse c'è possibilità.&lt;br /&gt;Che altro dire?&lt;br /&gt;Che conto ei mesi, i giorni che mi separano dal rientro..  e in un certo senso non vedo l'ora.&lt;br /&gt;non vedo l'ora perchè potrò finalmente dormire,tutte le notti, tra le braccia di chi amo e mi ama come, io lo so, nessuno mai prima.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E' la naturale evoluzione degli eventi.&lt;br /&gt;Ci si incontra, ci si scontra, ci si ama.&lt;br /&gt;ecco cosa è stato per me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una camminata rilassante, una gioia indescrivile..un fiore tra le mani e il sole alto nel cielo.&lt;br /&gt;tutto qui.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6423540759528242948?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6423540759528242948/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6423540759528242948' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6423540759528242948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6423540759528242948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/09/regrego.html' title='regrego..'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-8422869399591103460</id><published>2009-09-09T18:03:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T18:06:02.076+02:00</updated><title type='text'>a Milano..</title><content type='html'>è qualche anno che lo dico..NON SO QUANTO RESTERO'...ma sono ancora qui.. quest'anno e' stato di puro cambiamento..da un anno  a questa parte molte cose si sono evolute, altre involute..altre semplicemente, come le malattie, hanno fatto il loro corso. sono terminate. Era situazioni malate, poco interessanti e banali. A volte difficile. Ma guardiamo avanti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi ritrovo SOLA aMilano con un pugno di soldi e di ideali in mano, un mucchio di sogni che sono condivisi dall'uomo che amo e che mi ama come ho sempre sognato essere amata.&lt;br /&gt;Non durerò molto nella città. ottobre,Novembre, poi via per tre mesi e poi..giusto il tempo di dare qualche esame..e poi... Poi si vede, poi si decide..io ho tutte le carte in regola..e  qualcuno dalla mia parte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-8422869399591103460?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/8422869399591103460/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=8422869399591103460' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8422869399591103460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8422869399591103460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/09/milano.html' title='a Milano..'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6749207915625681730</id><published>2009-08-27T19:02:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T19:03:52.914+02:00</updated><title type='text'>a casa...</title><content type='html'>io scrivo al pc mentre attendo che il caffè sia pronto..lui, fuori dalla porta, mi osserva e sorride.&lt;br /&gt;Come è bello.&lt;br /&gt;Come sono fortunata e come sono felice.&lt;br /&gt;e' stata una giornata proficua.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6749207915625681730?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6749207915625681730/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6749207915625681730' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6749207915625681730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6749207915625681730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/08/casa.html' title='a casa...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6995898674156152615</id><published>2009-08-06T09:44:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T09:44:21.366+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e così...</title><content type='html'>sono in Sardegna.. felice,serena..rilassata.. tra le braccia del mio Angelo (in tutti i sensi).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6995898674156152615?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6995898674156152615/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6995898674156152615' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6995898674156152615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6995898674156152615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/08/e-cosi.html' title='e così...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-297018497786743832</id><published>2009-07-28T10:32:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T10:32:29.008+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e il miracolo...</title><content type='html'>è che prendo una pastiglia di cortisone e sto meglio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peccato le caviglie...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-297018497786743832?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/297018497786743832/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=297018497786743832' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/297018497786743832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/297018497786743832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-il-miracolo.html' title='e il miracolo...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-682177317309135033</id><published>2009-07-27T17:33:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T17:34:39.570+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e ti pare...</title><content type='html'>che l´ultima settimana di vacanza/lavoro in germania io debba ...shit!!!!!! avere un profonda adorabile tonsillite..ti pare?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-682177317309135033?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/682177317309135033/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=682177317309135033' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/682177317309135033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/682177317309135033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-ti-pare.html' title='e ti pare...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4529555820978218290</id><published>2009-07-23T21:07:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T21:08:21.280+02:00</updated><title type='text'>vivere...così...</title><content type='html'>separarmi da te...&lt;br /&gt;è un po' come morire..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4529555820978218290?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4529555820978218290/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4529555820978218290' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4529555820978218290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4529555820978218290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/07/viverecosi.html' title='vivere...così...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-7396671902126251647</id><published>2009-07-15T15:43:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T15:43:58.482+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e finalmente...</title><content type='html'>ho capito cosa sia l'amore..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-7396671902126251647?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/7396671902126251647/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=7396671902126251647' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7396671902126251647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7396671902126251647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-finalmente.html' title='e finalmente...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-2624999233030196876</id><published>2009-07-11T21:10:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T21:11:38.699+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e chissà...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/Sljj4xPbwxI/AAAAAAAAAsM/VUbLvqdgMK0/s1600-h/SDC11863.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/Sljj4xPbwxI/AAAAAAAAAsM/VUbLvqdgMK0/s200/SDC11863.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357282321187455762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;che sapore ha la tua pelle e quale i tuoi baci..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-2624999233030196876?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/2624999233030196876/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=2624999233030196876' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2624999233030196876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2624999233030196876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-chissa.html' title='e chissà...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/Sljj4xPbwxI/AAAAAAAAAsM/VUbLvqdgMK0/s72-c/SDC11863.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6681824791995329573</id><published>2009-07-08T00:52:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T00:54:24.619+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e se...</title><content type='html'>questo qualcuno riuscisse finalmente a donarmi tutta la serenita' di cuo ho veramente bisogno?&lt;br /&gt;E se?&lt;br /&gt;e ma?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voglio viverla così, col sole in fronte..ne varrà la pena, lo so.. e potrò dire"confesso che ho vissuto", un giorno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qui la procreazione e' cosa facile e pare che gli intenti diventino realtà e certezze..mi chiedo e spero che questa cosa non sia contagiosa..ma una vita nuova non dovrebbe essere sempre una gioia?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6681824791995329573?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6681824791995329573/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6681824791995329573' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6681824791995329573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6681824791995329573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-se.html' title='e se...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-1784347904644744289</id><published>2009-06-26T13:19:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T13:21:42.720+02:00</updated><title type='text'>....</title><content type='html'>Lo senti come tira il vento&lt;br /&gt;Che quasi non ci fa dormire&lt;br /&gt;E l'anima che brucia dentro&lt;br /&gt;Dammi un segnale fatti sentire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma è di te che io ho bisogno&lt;br /&gt;E non ti sento&lt;br /&gt;è l'amore che ci fa cambiare idea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ti scrivo amore&lt;br /&gt;Ti scrivo amore perduto amore&lt;br /&gt;E nessun santo&lt;br /&gt;Se adesso piango mi salverà&lt;br /&gt;Noi navighiamo&lt;br /&gt;Noi transitiamo col cuore a galla&lt;br /&gt;Esca per pesci&lt;br /&gt;Se poi scoperti ci tiran su&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In una foto i tuoi occhi belli&lt;br /&gt;Tenuti stretti fra le mie dita&lt;br /&gt;Guardano il mondo così lontano&lt;br /&gt;Da farlo stare tutto in una mano&lt;br /&gt;E un pubblico di stelle sorride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ti scrivo amore&lt;br /&gt;Ti scrivo amore perduto amore&lt;br /&gt;E nessun santo&lt;br /&gt;Se adesso piango mi salverà&lt;br /&gt;Noi navighiamo&lt;br /&gt;Noi transitiamo col cuore a galla&lt;br /&gt;Esca per pesci&lt;br /&gt;Se poi scoperti ci tiran su&lt;br /&gt;Ma è di te che io ho bisogno&lt;br /&gt;E non ti sento&lt;br /&gt;è l'amore che ci fa cambiare idea&lt;br /&gt;è di che io ho bisogno e non ti sento&lt;br /&gt;è l'amore che ci fa cambiare&lt;br /&gt;Ti scrivo amore&lt;br /&gt;Ti scrivo amore perduto amore&lt;br /&gt;Liberi pesci&lt;br /&gt;Ma con le ali io e te&lt;br /&gt;Volati in alto&lt;br /&gt;Posati dove si può sperare&lt;br /&gt;Ricominciare senza confini io e te&lt;br /&gt;Ti scrivo amore&lt;br /&gt;Ti scrivo amore perduto amore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEH VABEH non è esattamente così.ma molte frasi..me le tatuo in testa. per non dimenticare.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-1784347904644744289?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/1784347904644744289/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=1784347904644744289' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1784347904644744289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1784347904644744289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='....'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4713995452482561997</id><published>2009-06-17T18:07:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T18:10:39.648+02:00</updated><title type='text'>così è la vita...</title><content type='html'>Così è la vita che ci sospende&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; con i suoi segni inconfondibili&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; il suo cuore palpitante&lt;br /&gt;e il nostro sangue che si rapprende&lt;br /&gt;così è la vita che ci riguarda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; con i suoi giorni imprevediibli&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;un dolore che non ritarda&lt;br /&gt;una spia luminosa che si accende&lt;br /&gt;così è la vita generosa&lt;br /&gt;come un'altare agli occhi di una sposa&lt;br /&gt;con i suoi bivi binari di scambio e noi...&lt;br /&gt;suoi pezzi di ricambio&lt;br /&gt;così è la vita che ci riprende&lt;br /&gt;dalle speranze che disattende&lt;br /&gt;tentazioni e avemarie e un cielo che si stende...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Così è la vita amore mio&lt;br /&gt;e tu che mi cammini accanto raccoglila&lt;br /&gt;trasforma in un sorriso questo pianto&lt;br /&gt;così è la vita amore mio&lt;br /&gt;tu fammi grande questo tempo&lt;br /&gt;sollevami&lt;br /&gt;tu dammi forza tu dammi cemento&lt;br /&gt;così è la vita e ci sbatto la testa&lt;br /&gt;e noi a ballarla come una festa&lt;br /&gt;noi vestiti per l'occasione... e una canzone...&lt;br /&gt;la... la...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Così è la vita che ci difende&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; combinazioni incomprensibili &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; il suo battito incalzante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; e questo sole che sale e scende&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;così è la vita che ci frammenta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; dentro i ricordi ben visibili &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; paura che ci spaventa&lt;br /&gt;e una notte brava che ci spende&lt;br /&gt;così è la vita che ci riscatta&lt;br /&gt;e milioni di lotterie e profezie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;destini &lt;/span&gt;nelle carte  e noi...&lt;br /&gt;a mettere da parte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Così è la vita amore mio / tu che alla sera torni stanco&lt;br /&gt;sorreggiti con me / qui sotto questo telo bianco&lt;br /&gt;così è la vita amore mio / lei che procede a fuoco lento&lt;br /&gt;abbracciami / prendiamo tutto quanto&lt;br /&gt;in un momento&lt;br /&gt;così è la vita in te la riconosco&lt;br /&gt;con i suoi rovi i suoi frutti di bosco&lt;br /&gt;noi a cantare una nuova stagione / e una canzone...&lt;br /&gt;la... la... / la... la...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4713995452482561997?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4713995452482561997/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4713995452482561997' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4713995452482561997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4713995452482561997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/06/cosi-e-la-vita.html' title='così è la vita...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4285305560569477207</id><published>2009-06-13T17:10:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T17:13:36.060+02:00</updated><title type='text'>a hard rain's gonna fall</title><content type='html'>everything is going on and on and on and I'm crying inside and blaming destinity.&lt;br /&gt;I have told her about all these perfects things happening to me, and she said that probably this is my time, and I have to play every game I can, since I find my way.&lt;br /&gt;So hard. So SO SO HARD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I an go on and keep on.&lt;br /&gt;It's nice and funny, not perfect to me but it's the truth and need to find a rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4285305560569477207?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4285305560569477207/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4285305560569477207' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4285305560569477207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4285305560569477207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/06/hard-rains-gonna-fall.html' title='a hard rain&apos;s gonna fall'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-7303743840476045704</id><published>2009-06-03T01:24:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T01:25:04.924+02:00</updated><title type='text'>in sardegna</title><content type='html'>a casa...e non per molto tempo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-7303743840476045704?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/7303743840476045704/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=7303743840476045704' title='3 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7303743840476045704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7303743840476045704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/06/in-sardegna.html' title='in sardegna'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6982906130959575989</id><published>2009-05-20T22:12:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T22:12:16.509+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>qualcosa mi torce lo stomaco, e non è un pugno.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6982906130959575989?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6982906130959575989/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6982906130959575989' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6982906130959575989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6982906130959575989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/05/qualcosa-mi-torce-lo-stomaco-e-non-e-un.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-902664540651597928</id><published>2009-05-17T19:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T19:37:18.217+02:00</updated><title type='text'>nel bene e nel male...</title><content type='html'>qualcosa si muove,e comunque..insegna.&lt;br /&gt;E che dire?&lt;br /&gt;che mi sto incazzando come una biscia isterica!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-902664540651597928?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/902664540651597928/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=902664540651597928' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/902664540651597928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/902664540651597928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/05/nel-bene-e-nel-male.html' title='nel bene e nel male...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-1238793414153088731</id><published>2009-05-14T10:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T10:23:07.291+02:00</updated><title type='text'>qualcosa si muove, forse..</title><content type='html'>piccoli passi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-1238793414153088731?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/1238793414153088731/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=1238793414153088731' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1238793414153088731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1238793414153088731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/05/qualcosa-si-muove-forse.html' title='qualcosa si muove, forse..'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4632247324140090276</id><published>2009-05-12T19:16:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T19:19:03.116+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e che dire?</title><content type='html'>che incrocio le dita,penso positivo e mi do da fare, da fare da fare..non voglio restare indietro col mondo, non voglio, non posso!&lt;br /&gt;Devo documentarmi, leggere,sapere, ho sete di sapere.. devo prepararmi ai nuovi eventi,così è la vita, una valanga immensa di emozioni,belle notizie, a volte brutte,ma è così..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorridi,vai mille,non chiedere &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;di più&lt;/span&gt;, non esiste &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;di più&lt;/span&gt;, quello che hai è gia tuo e invece di goderlo te lo lasci scivolare tra le mani.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4632247324140090276?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4632247324140090276/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4632247324140090276' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4632247324140090276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4632247324140090276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-che-dire.html' title='e che dire?'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4948884582965431752</id><published>2009-05-11T18:57:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T19:04:53.018+02:00</updated><title type='text'>dal cellulare..</title><content type='html'>che dire? Scrivo dal  cellulare mentro attraverso la mia città.. La mia nuova città..da sei lunghi anni milano mi ospita. Un po' cattiva, un po' mamma e un po' troia.. Così è.. Eppure.. Eppure non la sento mia come vorrei.. Si cresce,si evolve. La realtà delle cose si sta delineando e scopro sempre più la difficoltà del mio percorso,quello interiore . Quello esterno, beh.. E visibile ai più.. Ma gli attenti conoscono l'enormità dei miei sforzi.. La verità è una e posso palesarla coi miei sorrisi e nasconderla tra le lacrime. Non ho bisogno di nulla, se non di me,di un amore per me stessa che sia degno. Ti sto sorridendo e non mi vedi. Ho bisogno di scrivere e sento che questo potrebbe essere il momento giusto..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4948884582965431752?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4948884582965431752/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4948884582965431752' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4948884582965431752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4948884582965431752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/05/dal-cellulare.html' title='dal cellulare..'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-8441161139032436036</id><published>2009-05-05T11:16:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T11:21:43.288+02:00</updated><title type='text'>il mio percorso...</title><content type='html'>lo voglio iniziare così,di martedì e in punta di piedi.&lt;br /&gt;Avevo comprato un nuovo diario ma non ci voglio scrivere, sono stata amreggiata ma -come dice qualcuno- non è un percorso che deve compiere io,quello. Non è una mia crescita, ma sua.&lt;br /&gt; Ben&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;e,  Beni benius a tottus!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non sono in grado di aiutarti, mi dispiace. Vorrei, lo giuro, amerei farlo. Ma devo pensare un po' a me stessa; quindi ti lascio crescere all by yourself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stamattina mi sono svegliata e ho ballato, ballato fino allo sfinimento. E ridevo di gusto, di cuore.&lt;br /&gt;Ho bisogno di dinamismo, dinamicità, eclettismo, sostanza.&lt;br /&gt;Ho bisogno di sostanza. Ho bisogno di sorridere e fremere per un sorriso. Non cose vuote, a se.&lt;br /&gt;Non offrono nulla. E' passato il tempo delle mele.&lt;br /&gt;O forse ne sta arrivando un'altro..e mi sento così infantile e piccola.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La mia crescita, il mio percorso.&lt;br /&gt;Devo compierne uno, pensare alla Donna che sono e vorrei essere.&lt;br /&gt;First Step: pensare a quel che voglio davvero.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-8441161139032436036?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/8441161139032436036/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=8441161139032436036' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8441161139032436036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8441161139032436036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/05/il-mio-percorso.html' title='il mio percorso...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4747100885351588162</id><published>2009-05-03T18:48:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T19:01:29.352+02:00</updated><title type='text'>weekend a roma...</title><content type='html'>...dalla vita si impara....&lt;br /&gt;Da ogni sguardo, da ogni carezza, da ogni frase detta e quella malcelata. Da ogni azione, atto e atteggiamento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penso fermamente che la gente non parli "tanto per". Penso che ci sia un motivo scatenante ogni emissione, dunque ritengo assurdo sentirmi dire" si sa, a volte la gente parla solo per parlare". No, la gente parla perchè ha qualcosa da dire, magari qualcosa di poco gradevole o veramente sorprendente, ma se ne vergogna. Se ne vergogna e poi si cela dietro un "ma no, tu hai capito male". Si, siamo sempre noi a capire male. O sono loro che, per paura, non sanno come parlare?&lt;br /&gt;La gente pensa, anche inconsciamente, quello che dice.&lt;br /&gt;Questa è una di quelle poche certezze che ho nella vita. Non dire mai "non sapevo quello che dicevo", perchè in fondo lo sapevi benissimo.&lt;br /&gt;Parlo perchè so cosa sto dicendo. Magari mi incasino a dirlo, ma lo sto pensando.&lt;br /&gt;Io voglio dire che sei figo, io dico che sei bello.  E non intendo dire&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Figo&lt;/span&gt; se dico &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bello&lt;/span&gt;, intendo dire bello. Ma il bello per me può essere diverso dal bello per te. Magari però sbaglio, e dico Figo, però so che intendo bello. E allora mi correggo. Ma il succo è : diciamo una cosa che, fondamentalmente, pensiamo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non crederò mai a chi mi dice "si sa che certe gente parla tanto per..".  la gente parla perchè sa che cosa vuol dirti, dove vuole colpirti, cosa vuol farti arrivare. Anche a costo di aver poco tatto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Certo che di tatto se ne è visto poco questo weekend, ma se ne è parlato tanto.&lt;br /&gt;Ne parlavo con la mia amica Silvia, con Luca e anche con Ale questo pomeriggio: lo vedo trasformato ed il suo percorso è qualcosa che devo iniziare a compiere anche io. Lentamente. Non è un caso che io abbia deciso di essere single. Per davvero.&lt;br /&gt;E' stato un weekend manchevole, possiamo dire così. Sono stata bene. A momenti no, alcuni attimi felice, altri entusiasta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forse c'è qualcosa che non va.. ma so che non sono io il problema.&lt;br /&gt;Alcuni discorsi sono stati illuminanti e credo sia giusto andare per quella via che ora sento di dover percorrere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4747100885351588162?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4747100885351588162/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4747100885351588162' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4747100885351588162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4747100885351588162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/05/weekend-roma.html' title='weekend a roma...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4009014330779425264</id><published>2009-04-10T23:10:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T23:11:00.743+02:00</updated><title type='text'>london bridge is falling down, falling down falling down...</title><content type='html'>e vabeh, tiratelo su,no????&lt;br /&gt;questa e` una citta' stupenda...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4009014330779425264?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4009014330779425264/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4009014330779425264' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4009014330779425264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4009014330779425264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/04/london-bridge-is-falling-down-falling.html' title='london bridge is falling down, falling down falling down...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-7214220156257760179</id><published>2009-04-08T07:47:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T08:24:57.133+02:00</updated><title type='text'>is this a new start?</title><content type='html'>Come raccontavo al mio padre confessore, avevo iniziato a stufarmi. Sentivo sulle spalle un peso abnorme e quella sensazione di impotenza mista a noia (leggesi : skazzo- con la k, si) si stava impossessando di me.&lt;br /&gt;Era una domenica di qualche settimana fa, forse due, forse tre. Si, tre settimane fa.&lt;br /&gt;Ero in cucina al pc, poi a letto, poi al pc, poi in bagno. Noia mortale. E ho detto basta.&lt;br /&gt;Avevo delle faccende burocratiche da risolvere e sarebbe dipeso solo da me, la burocrazia non bussa alla tua porta, non ti aiuta. Se tu che devi prenderla per le spalle.&lt;br /&gt;Così è la vita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il giorno successivo, dopo aver inviato e-mail al vetriolo, sono stata accontentata. Il giovedì sono stata ricevuta e la faccenda si è risolta.&lt;br /&gt;L'aperitivo con gli amici più cari, quella sera, mi sembrava un buon ringraziamento alla sorte. O forse a Dio,chissà.&lt;br /&gt;Oggi mi fanno sapere tutti i giornali che parlare con Dio è come parlare con un amico, almeno a livello cerebrale. Bene, visto che di veri amici non se ne incontrano mai abbastanza, forse due o tre persone potrei considerare tali.. dunque?&lt;br /&gt;Meglio rivolgersi a Dio, che ci creda o meno, ma so che il mio segreto sarà con me, non verrà spiattellato e forse, forse, con un po' di razionalità, si arriva alla soluzione migliore.&lt;br /&gt;La risoluzione.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qualcuno mancava a quell'aperitivo..ma si sa, siamo tutti amici quando stiamo tutti bene. Quando qualcuno ha bisogno di parlare, poi, ci si dilegua. Non si ha tempo. Siamo noiosi, diventiamo noiosi. E noi siamo troppo impegnati a divertirci.&lt;br /&gt;Grazie. Grazie perchè se volevo condividere tu non c'eri. Beh, quando avrai tempo..se ne avrai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Non è questione di tempo, &lt;/span&gt;mi hai detto. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E' che non ho voglia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allora eclissati pure, vivi da solo. Aparra solu. Che poi ci pensa la provvidenza a renderti quello che non hai dato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Io non sono così. Mi sono resa conto che la maggior parte delle persone tende a confidarsi con me. Non so se reputare questo un bene o un male. Non sono un mentore, non sono saggia, non ho l'oracolo in me. Però ti dirò sempre quello che penso, senza mezzi termini.&lt;br /&gt;Con te, adesso, non lo farò più, perchè pare che ogni cosa venga fraintesa e un mio non volere il tuo dolore futuro (che non è detto arrivi,ma prevenire è meglio che curare) a te pare essere solo gelosia. Io gelosa? Di chi? Di te? Non scherziamo, per cortesia, non scherziamo. Ti ho detto no una volta, te lo dirò sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A parte questo.&lt;br /&gt;Risolto il problema burocratico, ho sentito di toccare il cielo con un dito- anche se ancora tutto questo non è totalmente risolto, ma lo sarà presto.&lt;br /&gt;Ho preso la vita in mano.&lt;br /&gt;Sono andata a parlare con lei, le sono mancata tutto questo tempo, ha deciso che SI, io potrei fare quel tipo di lavoro.. che SI, sicuramente in quell'ente avrei possibilità.&lt;br /&gt;Vedremo, vedremo quando e dove ma ci siamo mobilitate in due e stiamo lavorando alacremente per ottenere la documentazione adatta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basta poco per far andare le cose per il verso giusto.&lt;br /&gt;Solo,dico io, alzarsi la mattina e pensare positivo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sto così bene, da sola.&lt;br /&gt;Se penso allo scorso anno- scusami, so che leggi- e tutti i tuoi problemi troppo grandi per me e le tue ansie scaricate su di me. Io che ti dicevo di provare a vedere il buono in ogni cosa, anche nella nostra distanza e tu che dicevi che invece volevi la vicinanza quando in realtà non eri pronto e non sarai mai pronto ad assumerti l'onere di nuove responsabilità.. perchè elaborare un lutto è facile se hai un cadavere di fronte, freddo e gli occhi sbarrati, piuttosto che vedere il tuo cadavere trasformarsi in una relazione felice di cui tu sei solo spettatore e non sei stato ammesso.&lt;br /&gt;Penso all'ansia che mi facevi venire. Penso al peso sulle spalle, alla morsa allo stomaco quando mi svegliavo la mattina e sentivo che saresti impazzito ancora e mi avresti dato colpe che non avevo.&lt;br /&gt;Poi passavamo bellissimi momenti. Ma a volte ancora mi chiedo chi tu sia davvero.&lt;br /&gt;Non ti amo, da molto. Guarda, forse non ti ho mai amato perchè l'amore, per come lo intendo io, è tutt'altro. E' rispetto,ammirazione,comprensione,complicità. Penso di non avere mai nutrito alcuno di questi sentimento per te.&lt;br /&gt;Rispettarti?Certo, come essere umano. Sei una brava persona. Ma, alla tua età, hai dimostrato di avere poco carattere, almeno a me.&lt;br /&gt;Ammirazione.. per che cosa? Si,per il tuo lavoro. Ma non avevi costruito niente da solo, c'era sempre stata LEI e devi riconoscerle questo merito. Lo hai fatto? perchè a me non è mai sembrato.&lt;br /&gt;Comprensione? Per che cosa? per essere ancora ancorato al ricordo di un matrimonio ormai fallito, a una pagina vecchia ingiallita che qualcuno ha deciso di voltare e che tu ti ostini a riportare indietro, quasi volessi rileggerla. Stesso nome, stesso copione. Ti amo, ti sposo, figli non figli, lavoro, lavoriamo insieme, tu sei dietro di me. Dietro un grande uomo c'è una grande donna. Dietro un uomo che crede di essere grande, c'è una donna che scalcia per uscire allo scoperto. E quando lo fa, esplode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complicità. Non la ho mai vissuta con te; credo di avere sentito più complicità con tua moglie che con te. Sai, è facile parlare e sputare sentenze non conoscendo l'altra versione dei fatti, ma quando mi sono sentita dare delle risposte così stupide, o sentita comandare- con finta amorevolezza- beh, allora ho capito.&lt;br /&gt;Io non sono quello che tu vuoi. Io sono troppo. Sono giovane, sono bella, sono intelligente, so di esserlo e sono poco modesta. Perchè mentire? Perchè dire che non mi guardo mai allo specchio, che odio il mio corpo? No, mai. Io amo il mio viso, il mio corpo, la mia testa e la mia interiorià. E ci ho messo molto tempo a farlo.&lt;br /&gt;Io non sono destinata ad essere moglie e madre. Io sono destinata ad essere anche moglie e madre,ma nn solo quello.Non mi basta l'idea di avere una bella casa con un bell'uomo, una casa ben arredata e con un bel giardino e la piscina e tanti bei viaggi  in hotel strafighi (non che ne abbia mai visto uno, con te), due o tre figli appena sfornati, una stanza-studio in cui" puoi lavorare facendo ripetizioni" così non devo stare a stressarmi e posso crescere i bambini, governare la casa, fare i panni, giardinaggio. Magari poi, una volta i bambini fossero cresciuti, avere un bel lavoro, come tua sorella si! che bel lavoro! che donna realizzata! la commessa alla Coop. Perchè si, mi sono laureata per nulla! Mi sono laureata per tornare a casa dei miei  in Sardegna- io che vivo da sola da 6 anni!- e aspettare che tu decida di divorziare e di vivere in una casa che non avevi costruito per lei e per tuo figlio. Tuo figlio tuo figlio tuo figlio, un bambino dietro il quale ti nascondi per tenere in mano ancora i fili di una relazione che è morta, perchè lei come uomo non ti vuole più. Tuo figlio che sa essere adorabile ma che vive viziato e mancherà poco prima che prenda i primi calci nel culo alle scuole medie. Tuo figlio che non hai capito come educare, che ai bambini se dai troppo ricevi nulla in cambio, i bambini che non si nutrono solo di hamburger e patatine ma anche di verdura mangiata per forza, che non vivono solo di giocattoli o di playstation, che smettono di muoversi a scatti come automi ma giocano a pallone per strada, si fanno male, si sbucciano le ginocchia, si slogano la caviglia. E tu, se il bambino inciampa, subito a piangere.  Il giorno in cui la campana di vetro si rompe, tragedie. Non è l'unico bambino che ha sofferto, ricordalo. E tu non sei l'unico uomo senza palle che si è sentito dire: ho un altro,ciao. Purtroppo,uomini senza palle, ce ne sono troppi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sono sola per non sentire più storie come la tua, non svegliarmi più con l'ansia, non dover pensare la mia vita in relazione a qualcuno che, fondamentalmente, non mi ha mai meritato. Perchè si, so ascoltare, ma non è detto che quello che ascolto mi piaccia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ti ammiro come uomo per il rapporto che hai con la tua ex moglie&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Scusa, la realtà è che &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mi fai un po' pena e tenerezza per il rapporto malato che hai col tuo passato e con la tua ex moglie  &lt;/span&gt;..solo che ci ho messo un bel po' a capirlo.&lt;br /&gt;Quando ti ho lasciato non ho mai pensato di voler tornare con te. Appena te ne sei andato dalla mia festa, oltretutto in modo poco maturo data la tua età, sono entrata in sala e ho detto "Bene, sono single!", e tutti a chiedere come mai, altri a dirmi "finalmente!!". Qualcuno mi ha detto " ora che se ne è andato hai un viso così sereno".. e io che mi sentivo finalmente svuotata, senza pugni nello stomaco, senza peso sulle spalle, senza dolore. Non ho provato il minimo dolore e nemmeno tu, visto che eri subito al fusion con l'amico fidato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E nel paese tutti a chiedere come mai il signor LP avessere lasciato la signorina RM, perchè qualcuno ha messo in giro la voce che sia stato tu a lasciare me. La verità è che ti sei fatto lasciare, che non ne potevi piu, ti annoiavi e volevi uscire e divertirti con gli amici(e lo hai fatto... come me d'altra parte..solo che io ancora non ho smesso di divertirmi). Solo che è la signorina RM, sa fill'e su dottori, che ha lasciato LP, l'imprenditore... anche se poi al paese hanno detto che è Lui che ha lasciato Lei, perchè Lei era troppo impegnata nella carriera musicale per poter stare vicino a lui.  Per fortuna c'è stato chi, presente quella sera alla mia festa, ha visto  e sentito quando ti dicevo "mi sono messa con te perchè mi facevi stare bene e ora non sto bene. Tu e tuo figlio non mi riguardate più". Ho pensato mi avessi lasciato tu, giuro. Poi mi sono resa conto, quando ti ho visto andare via, che ti avevo fatto andare, sciogliendo il nodo del guinzaglio...via,vai...corri per i prati.. cosa puoi dire di più ad un uomo, se non " SII FELICE?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A me non frega un cazzo se sei felice o meno. Se tuo figlio è felice o meno.&lt;br /&gt;L'importante è che lo sia io.&lt;br /&gt;Un po' di egoismo, per me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E questo non è rinvangare il passato, è mettere i puntini sulle i.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma torniamo a noi, che è meglio.&lt;br /&gt;Sto lasciando Milano. Sto andando a Londra.&lt;br /&gt;A presto, miei cari. Da altri luoghi e altri lidi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-7214220156257760179?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/7214220156257760179/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=7214220156257760179' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7214220156257760179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7214220156257760179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/04/is-this-new-start.html' title='is this a new start?'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-3572033896244680079</id><published>2009-04-01T19:20:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T19:21:51.152+02:00</updated><title type='text'>ehhh vabehhh</title><content type='html'>franco ha la febbre (haha è fresco come una rosa)quindi io e fabry siamo qui a fagli compagnia mentre IDDU gioca al playstation..ed io e fabry,ognuno ai rispettivi pc, vigiliamo sulla sua salute...e spammiamo!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pomeriggi milanesi insoliti.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-3572033896244680079?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/3572033896244680079/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=3572033896244680079' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3572033896244680079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3572033896244680079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/04/ehhh-vabehhh.html' title='ehhh vabehhh'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-1171345076349540886</id><published>2009-03-29T13:10:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T13:30:41.260+02:00</updated><title type='text'>silence...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and maybe your cold silence is the best thing that you've ever given me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non c'è modo che io mi lamenti.&lt;br /&gt;Si, sono in fase riflessiva e questa cosa  che prima mi impauriva, ora mi rafforza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Io lo so che non sono sola, anche quando sono sola.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avevo voglia. Voglia e bisogno di avvicinarmi a lui. Però sai, la solita paura. E se non si rende nemmeno conto di me?&lt;br /&gt;Come si dice,&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; aiutati che Dio ti aiuta&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Beh, forse un fondo di verità c'è.. perchè se pensi positivo, se ti senti con le spalle forti, pronto ad affrontare il mondo, allora il mondo è ai tuoi piedi e tu puoi camminare a testa alta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Think positive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E' l'unica cosa che mi è venuta in mente di fare una settimana fa. Pensare in positivo ogni mattina, vedere il positivo nei miei gesti, nei gesti altrui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Così è la vita che ci sorprende, con quei segni imprevedibili ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;così è la vita che ci riprende dalle speranze che disattende, tentazioni e avemarie ...e un cielo che si stende... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-1171345076349540886?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/1171345076349540886/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=1171345076349540886' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1171345076349540886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1171345076349540886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/03/silence.html' title='silence...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-8004751432185304543</id><published>2009-03-25T10:13:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T10:40:28.738+01:00</updated><title type='text'>eccomi qui,descritta.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times;"&gt;I am the biggest hypocrite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've been undeniably jealous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have been loud and pretentious&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have been utterly threatened&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've gotten candy for my self-interest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;the sexy treadmill capitalist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;heaven forbid I be criticized&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;heaven forbid I be ignored&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have abused my power forgive me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;you mean we actually are all one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;one one one one one one one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've been out of reach and separatist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;heaven forbid average (whatever average means)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have compensated for my days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;of powerlessness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have abused my so-called power forgive me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;you mean we actually are all one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;one one one one one one one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;did you just call her amazing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;surely we both can't be amazing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and give up my hard earned status&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;as fabulous freak of nature?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have abused my power forgive me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;you mean we actually are all one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;one one one one one one one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;always looked good on paper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sounded good in theory&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="pagina"  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Sono la più grande delle ipocrite,&lt;br /&gt;sono stata innegabilmente gelosa.&lt;br /&gt;Sono stata chiassosa e pretenziosa,&lt;br /&gt;sono stata totalmente minacciata.&lt;br /&gt;Ho ricevuto caramelle per il mio interesse personale,&lt;br /&gt;la sexy capitalista di routine.&lt;br /&gt;Dio non voglia che venga criticata.&lt;br /&gt;Dio non voglia che sia ignorata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho abusato del mio potere, perdonami.&lt;br /&gt;Vuoi dire che siamo veramente tutti una cosa sola,&lt;br /&gt;una, una, una, una, una, una, una.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sono stata fuori portata e separatista.&lt;br /&gt;Dio non voglia la mediocrità (qualsiasi cosa voglia dire "mediocre").&lt;br /&gt;Sono stata ricompensata per i miei giorni d'impotenza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho abusato del mio cosiddetto potere, perdonami.&lt;br /&gt;Vuoi dire che siamo veramente tutti una cosa sola,&lt;br /&gt;una, una, una, una, una, una, una.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L'hai appena definita sorprendente?&lt;br /&gt;Sicuramente noi due non possiamo esserlo!&lt;br /&gt;E rinunciare al mio status guadagnato duramente&lt;br /&gt;di favoloso scherzo della natura?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho abusato del mio potere, perdonami.&lt;br /&gt;Vuoi dire che siamo veramente tutti una cosa sola,&lt;br /&gt;una, una, una, una, una, una, una.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E' sempre stato promettente sulla carta,&lt;br /&gt;suonava bene in teoria.&lt;br /&gt;E' sempre stato promettente sulla carta,&lt;br /&gt;suonava bene in teoria.&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/11531023-8004751432185304543?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/8004751432185304543/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=8004751432185304543' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8004751432185304543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8004751432185304543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/03/eccomi-quidescritta.html' title='eccomi qui,descritta.'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4131088497589588729</id><published>2009-03-05T11:22:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T11:24:00.698+01:00</updated><title type='text'>è passato un mese...</title><content type='html'>dalla mia ultima operazione di scrittura,qui.&lt;br /&gt;Che importa?&lt;br /&gt;potrei chiudere questo blog ma per qualcuno io resto la donna del mare. Qualcuno che non commenta, che non si fa sentire,ma che legge.&lt;br /&gt;Chi voglio io, è qui accanto a me..in un modo o nell'altro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Che vita è?&lt;br /&gt;Attendiamo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4131088497589588729?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4131088497589588729/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4131088497589588729' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4131088497589588729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4131088497589588729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/03/e-passato-un-mese.html' title='è passato un mese...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4744702473545920520</id><published>2009-02-03T19:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T19:55:46.533+01:00</updated><title type='text'>whatever average means...</title><content type='html'>it's time to travel&lt;br /&gt;ALL By Myself&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4744702473545920520?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4744702473545920520/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4744702473545920520' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4744702473545920520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4744702473545920520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/02/whatever-average-means.html' title='whatever average means...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-3902076931195806006</id><published>2009-01-27T18:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T18:37:11.762+01:00</updated><title type='text'>you are</title><content type='html'>incredibly SHAGGABLE.&lt;br /&gt;Fuck me, if you are not!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-3902076931195806006?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/3902076931195806006/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=3902076931195806006' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3902076931195806006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3902076931195806006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/01/you-are.html' title='you are'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-595185573043154235</id><published>2009-01-20T11:20:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T11:21:35.304+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Since I was so young...&lt;br /&gt;oh.. you know...&lt;br /&gt;some hugs... some nice looks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good way, good way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;water FALLS&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-595185573043154235?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/595185573043154235/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=595185573043154235' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/595185573043154235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/595185573043154235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/01/since-i-was-so-young.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-7352024635224018147</id><published>2009-01-19T08:19:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T08:19:21.717+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Friday is, for most in this country,&lt;br /&gt;a day with mixed emotion.&lt;br /&gt;The morning moves too slowly for comfort,&lt;br /&gt;the weekend just a notion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The afternoon "becomes" quite soon&lt;br /&gt;and you feel the thrill of home time.&lt;br /&gt;Until that sunday morning feeling&lt;br /&gt;you're free to waste your own time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-7352024635224018147?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/7352024635224018147/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=7352024635224018147' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7352024635224018147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7352024635224018147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/01/friday-is-for-most-in-this-country-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-3356434794321707833</id><published>2009-01-14T16:03:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T16:10:42.805+01:00</updated><title type='text'>giocare sulla neve...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SW3_5n3jH1I/AAAAAAAAAqs/EQ7NrFT5KOg/s1600-h/P1060271.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SW3_5n3jH1I/AAAAAAAAAqs/EQ7NrFT5KOg/s320/P1060271.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291166502649798482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SW3_c8ACwlI/AAAAAAAAAqk/05rn44BtMb0/s1600-h/P1060280.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SW3_c8ACwlI/AAAAAAAAAqk/05rn44BtMb0/s320/P1060280.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291166009837929042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a casa del tuo più caro amico... non ha prezzo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-3356434794321707833?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/3356434794321707833/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=3356434794321707833' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3356434794321707833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3356434794321707833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/01/giocare-sulla-neve.html' title='giocare sulla neve...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SW3_5n3jH1I/AAAAAAAAAqs/EQ7NrFT5KOg/s72-c/P1060271.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-326400443858800784</id><published>2009-01-12T09:21:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T09:27:17.905+01:00</updated><title type='text'>why</title><content type='html'>without a reason.&lt;br /&gt;answering no question.&lt;br /&gt;blaming you for being shy and totally red as if passionate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me.&lt;br /&gt;You, more or less. The hidden part of you.&lt;br /&gt;The sea, the wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The windy country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes as yours. Yours like mine.&lt;br /&gt;Your lips inside my skin.&lt;br /&gt;A Long, lasting..trembling... whisper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shall we start again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't know why, but I came.&lt;br /&gt;And came the hidden part of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more words.&lt;br /&gt;I won't give it up.&lt;br /&gt;I just need it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-326400443858800784?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/326400443858800784/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=326400443858800784' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/326400443858800784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/326400443858800784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/01/why.html' title='why'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-2308597874147643725</id><published>2009-01-03T09:19:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T09:21:02.215+01:00</updated><title type='text'>and a new year....</title><content type='html'>just started... and me, and my temper, and the flavour of your skin.&lt;br /&gt;everything washed away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no me, him, the other one, her smile, my eyes, your mouth, your mouth, together in dream not in fact (I can now answer to your question.. yesterday I was busy: No, I didn't change my mind. I'm still waiting for you, coming back to Milan)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-2308597874147643725?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/2308597874147643725/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=2308597874147643725' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2308597874147643725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2308597874147643725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-new-year.html' title='and a new year....'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-5470809228777105867</id><published>2008-12-20T14:06:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T14:07:47.055+01:00</updated><title type='text'>back to the future</title><content type='html'>Torniamo in Sardegna, in un pomeriggio milanese abbastanza assolato.&lt;br /&gt;Arriviamo in Sardegna, mano nella mano- virtualmente-, a qualche ora di distanza l'uno dall'altra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sto bene. Respiro bene e mi sento piena di me. Molta forza,molto orgoglio. Una battaglia persa in partenza,una vinta subito dopo averla solo pensata.&lt;br /&gt;Così. Si chiude, si ricomincia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-5470809228777105867?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/5470809228777105867/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=5470809228777105867' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5470809228777105867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5470809228777105867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/12/back-to-future.html' title='back to the future'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-5581391840892814019</id><published>2008-12-18T09:57:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T10:04:19.674+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>il nome di un uomo, l'unico a cui permetto di afferarmi per le spalle e scuotermi.&lt;br /&gt;L'unico che possa arrogarsi il diritto di sindacare su di me e la mia vita, l'unico che sia in grado di dirmi" no, sbagli" senza prendersi un vaffanculo immediato, l'unico che possa farmi ridere e piangere nel giro di 10 minuti (è successo).. è il nome di un libro chiuso ai miei occhi,un libro che non potrò mai leggere, ma su cui scrivo di me per capirmi di più (anche se mi dice" stai a sermonà,m'hai rotto"). E' il ricordo di una estate, la migliore della mia vita. Dei sogni più belli e divertenti- vissuti in due via sms. Il ricordo di una eccitazione, di fotografie.&lt;br /&gt;Sopratutto mi ricordo un sorriso via webcam.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-5581391840892814019?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/5581391840892814019/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=5581391840892814019' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5581391840892814019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5581391840892814019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/12/il-nome-di-un-uomo-lunico-cui-permetto.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-8298818378242673212</id><published>2008-12-17T09:10:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T09:12:08.718+01:00</updated><title type='text'>non ho molto tempo...</title><content type='html'>per scrivere di me su questo blog.&lt;br /&gt;Sono sommersa di impegni, di facebook e myspace,dunque.. continuo ad avere problemi a gestire il tempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La verità è che è un periodo di forte stress.&lt;br /&gt;Noi lavoratori autonomi non recepiamo tredicesima, io sto puntando a farmi piu che altro pagare lo stipendio di ottobre e novembre e spero di concludere qualcosa.&lt;br /&gt;Sicuramente,  non collaborerò più a lungo con questa scuola.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-8298818378242673212?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/8298818378242673212/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=8298818378242673212' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8298818378242673212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8298818378242673212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/12/non-ho-molto-tempo.html' title='non ho molto tempo...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-8924191714275031061</id><published>2008-12-09T11:19:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T11:21:16.610+01:00</updated><title type='text'>hhhhi mariaaaa</title><content type='html'>ti amooo&lt;br /&gt;ohiiii mariaaaa ti vogliooooo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MARIA&lt;br /&gt;ti AMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MARIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ti vogliooooooooo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-8924191714275031061?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/8924191714275031061/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=8924191714275031061' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8924191714275031061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8924191714275031061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/12/hhhhi-mariaaaa.html' title='hhhhi mariaaaa'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-8259241827022586372</id><published>2008-12-02T08:54:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T08:57:38.440+01:00</updated><title type='text'>una marea di concerti....una marea di amici...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/STTqYl-bSpI/AAAAAAAAAqc/F6hpLwRiNoA/s1600-h/100_4699.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/STTqYl-bSpI/AAAAAAAAAqc/F6hpLwRiNoA/s320/100_4699.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275098771789400722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/STTqJxUpErI/AAAAAAAAAqU/j9QAhBdaG1g/s1600-h/100_4696.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/STTqJxUpErI/AAAAAAAAAqU/j9QAhBdaG1g/s320/100_4696.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275098517137330866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh....si ricomincia!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-8259241827022586372?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/8259241827022586372/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=8259241827022586372' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8259241827022586372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8259241827022586372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/12/una-marea-di-concertiuna-marea-di-amici.html' title='una marea di concerti....una marea di amici...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/STTqYl-bSpI/AAAAAAAAAqc/F6hpLwRiNoA/s72-c/100_4699.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6140215202679266091</id><published>2008-11-27T13:21:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T13:25:10.415+01:00</updated><title type='text'>really</title><content type='html'>do not know what do u want from me.&lt;br /&gt;Hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6140215202679266091?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6140215202679266091/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6140215202679266091' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6140215202679266091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6140215202679266091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/really.html' title='really'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-3310110515139536627</id><published>2008-11-25T09:39:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T10:08:11.544+01:00</updated><title type='text'>we talked</title><content type='html'>after &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Bone Collector&lt;/span&gt;, here we are...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Bollocks-DickHead Collector&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Just ..it Happened.&lt;br /&gt;We were looking at each other's buddy. The buddy was cool and still a nasty bastard baby... U covered my belly with your hand, and your face on my shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;        You smell so good, sweetie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes I know that's one of my problem. Men always say that I smell so good. I know that, I know because I smell my own skin and I find it gorgeous. You all always smell my neck and my ears and find it sexy. Do you find me sexy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just thinking.Stop thinking, dude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was tired, we went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to sleep but you started talking about yourself and my lips-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; so beautiful &lt;/span&gt;you said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I know that. Everybody finds them so beautiful, and jelly, and soft, and smooth.. what the fuck? I'm not only mouth, lips, boobs and eyes. I'm more than ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;We talked.&lt;br /&gt;We talked for a while in the night, then we felt asleep.&lt;br /&gt;We woke up early and we talked..talked and talked for hours.. and my lips were so juicy and you were drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you tell me so.&lt;br /&gt;So, so and So.&lt;br /&gt;My tattooe has just told me I use to find &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dickheads&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Do not know.It's just that I'm not in love, I don't want to, I could not...or maybe, yes.&lt;br /&gt;It's just that I want to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;talk&lt;/span&gt; again, and more and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;talk&lt;/span&gt; is not talking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&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/11531023-3310110515139536627?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/3310110515139536627/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=3310110515139536627' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3310110515139536627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3310110515139536627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/we-talked.html' title='we talked'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-7501166563078549982</id><published>2008-11-24T14:12:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T14:16:58.128+01:00</updated><title type='text'>perchè la vita..</title><content type='html'>è un brivido che vola via&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;è tutta un equilibrio sopra la follia... sopra la follia.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IO SONO DECISAMENTE FOLLE ED EQUILIBRATA.&lt;br /&gt;Ma cosa è l'equilibrio?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dice il Demauro-Paravia:&lt;span class="lemma"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="qualifica" title="sostantivo maschile"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="descrizione"&gt;&lt;span class="ac"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="mu" title="tecnico-specialistico"&gt;TS&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span title="fisica"&gt;fis.&lt;/span&gt;, stato di quiete di un corpo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="ac"&gt;2a&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="mu" title="di alto uso"&gt;AU&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;posizione stabile, stabilità:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;essere&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;stare&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;tenersi in e.&lt;/em&gt;; &lt;em&gt;mantenere&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;perdere l’e.&lt;/em&gt;; &lt;em&gt;tenere &lt;span title="qualcosa"&gt;qcs.&lt;/span&gt; in e.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="ac"&gt;2b&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="mu" title="di alto uso"&gt;AU&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span title="figurato"&gt;fig.&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;situazione in cui vari elementi o forze contrastanti si armonizzano fra loro&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;e. politico&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span class="pipe"&gt;|&lt;/span&gt; armonia compositiva: &lt;em&gt;l’e. di una natura morta&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="ac"&gt;3a&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="mu" title="di alto uso"&gt;AU&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;stabilità interiore, intellettuale o emotiva:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;ritrovare il proprio e.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="ac"&gt;3b&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="mu" title="di alto uso"&gt;AU&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; senso della misura, buonsenso:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;comportarsi con e.&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;avere e.&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;una persona con molto e.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span class="ac"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="ac"&gt;5&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="mu" title="tecnico-specialistico"&gt;TS&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span title="scientifico"&gt;scient.&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;stato di un sistema in cui uno o più parametri rimangono costanti nel tempo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="descrizione"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sono stabile,mi tengo in equilibrio tra varie situazioni e contesti in cui, solo qualche mese fa, non avrei saputo destreggiarmi. Ho una forte stabilità intellettuale, e questo mi aiuta ad essere razionale, sopperendo alla mia mancata stabilitàemotiva: decisamente più stabile che in passato,ci sto ancora lavorando seriamente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-7501166563078549982?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/7501166563078549982/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=7501166563078549982' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7501166563078549982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7501166563078549982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/perch-la-vita.html' title='perchè la vita..'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-2343299532702758263</id><published>2008-11-17T13:07:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T13:29:21.702+01:00</updated><title type='text'>my 25</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SSFh9gvwgDI/AAAAAAAAAqE/dHgWzDBC6lI/s1600-h/PB160064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SSFh9gvwgDI/AAAAAAAAAqE/dHgWzDBC6lI/s320/PB160064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269600748390350898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SSFfIrbmjQI/AAAAAAAAAp8/GG0Z47r2FbE/s1600-h/PB150046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SSFfIrbmjQI/AAAAAAAAAp8/GG0Z47r2FbE/s320/PB150046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269597641702280450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SSFiuwKBTHI/AAAAAAAAAqM/1HIBEuJJby0/s1600-h/PB160072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SSFiuwKBTHI/AAAAAAAAAqM/1HIBEuJJby0/s320/PB160072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269601594340625522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;grande serata al MURPHY con i miei amici....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-2343299532702758263?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/2343299532702758263/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=2343299532702758263' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2343299532702758263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/2343299532702758263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-25.html' title='my 25'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SSFh9gvwgDI/AAAAAAAAAqE/dHgWzDBC6lI/s72-c/PB160064.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6659305493357258827</id><published>2008-11-12T16:02:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T16:03:31.913+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Amico M insegna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" se trovi uno bello da scopare..ma quando apre bocca è meglio che taccia... mettigli la benda in bocca"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRANDE&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6659305493357258827?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6659305493357258827/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6659305493357258827' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6659305493357258827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6659305493357258827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/amico-m-insegna-se-trovi-uno-bello-da.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6785338447228819073</id><published>2008-11-11T09:55:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T09:59:08.108+01:00</updated><title type='text'>tribulacion</title><content type='html'>Vamos a empezar esos nuevos dias.&lt;br /&gt;Muchos hombre, Hombre!, y ya no se como hacer para seguir todo recto en mi vida.&lt;br /&gt;Un hombre de esos hombres, es fantastico. Parece un Dios: hermoso, inteligente, simpatico.&lt;br /&gt;Probablememne, tiene algunos defectos teribles que ahora no puedo conocer.&lt;br /&gt;MM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6785338447228819073?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6785338447228819073/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6785338447228819073' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6785338447228819073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6785338447228819073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/tribulacion.html' title='tribulacion'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-105609208263796397</id><published>2008-11-10T10:38:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T10:41:55.207+01:00</updated><title type='text'>se non ti lecchi le dita...</title><content type='html'>significa che non hai capito nulla di me.&lt;br /&gt;Una volta che mi provi, non puoi allontanarti. Lo so io, lo sai tu, lo sai chiunque abbia provato me e il mio profumo, la mia bocca, il mio sguardo.&lt;br /&gt;Chiunque sia stato sfiorato dalle mie dita, ne è rimasto assuefatto.&lt;br /&gt;La verità sta nel mezzo, caro. La verità è che non voglio più sentirti dentro di me, qualsiasi cosa questo possa richiamare alla tua mente fervida di post-adolescente.&lt;br /&gt;Scandisci il ritmo per me...ancora una volta. Un, due, un due. In, out, in, out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do not do the left-right movement&lt;/span&gt;. Non è un &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;time-warp&lt;/span&gt;, questo.&lt;br /&gt;E' la vita che si unisce, un fluido che si sposa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-105609208263796397?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/105609208263796397/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=105609208263796397' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/105609208263796397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/105609208263796397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/se-non-ti-lecchi-le-dita.html' title='se non ti lecchi le dita...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-3728423600665705786</id><published>2008-11-10T08:22:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T08:23:19.291+01:00</updated><title type='text'>a new week, the new start</title><content type='html'>si, s'ha da fare.&lt;br /&gt;Via i personaggi negativi. via via via.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-3728423600665705786?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/3728423600665705786/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=3728423600665705786' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3728423600665705786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3728423600665705786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-week-new-start.html' title='a new week, the new start'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-5968843262558565277</id><published>2008-11-09T09:41:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T09:52:32.487+01:00</updated><title type='text'>quando hai...</title><content type='html'>un pensiero fisso, che non ti lascia mai, che non si riduce. Che quasi ti perseguita.. dove sei tu, Lui è.&lt;br /&gt;Questo pensiero ti accompagna, ti mangia la carne, ti incide la pelle, ti procura sorrisi e lacrime...così, all'improvviso..&lt;br /&gt;A volte ti basta camminare per strada e scorgere negli occhi degli altri, nelle mani intrecciarsi..nei sorrisi, nei baci.. un sentimento che ti è precluso esternare..perchè sai che non potrai mai guardare i suoi occhi in quel modo. Non potrai dirgli &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sono qui per te&lt;/span&gt; perchè sai che si allonterebbe inesorabilmente... ma lo sa, lo legge nei tuoi occhi, nelle tue parole..Eppure, tu non dici, e se non dici, lui non conosce certezza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Hai detto tante bugie a te stessa.&lt;br /&gt;Hai sperimentato, elaborato, hai mangiato anche il grano-non ti è piaciuto.&lt;br /&gt;Hai intrecciato le tue dita nei capelli altrui, hai fatto in modo di perdere i tuoi occhi negli occhi sbagliati...hai baciato le labbra più sottili del mondo, la lingua più insulsa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma il tuo pensiero, dov'è?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha smesso di pulsare.&lt;br /&gt;Pulsava, ti riempiva la mente e il corpo di sangue, scorreva nelle vene.&lt;br /&gt;L'hai fermato e messo sull'attenti: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;non mi posso permettere di...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non più le tre del mattino, non più canzoni cantate tardi..non più.&lt;br /&gt;Mi sono allontanata da te; mi hai tenuta al telefono ore e ore solo per parlare. Quando stavi male mi hai cercato. Io non ti ho mai cercato, mai più.&lt;br /&gt;Poi ti rivedo, e non me ne frega un cazzo del resto, non mi importa nulla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Take me as I am.&lt;/span&gt; Non posso, non posso, io non voglio briciole, io voglio forze estreme, voglio baci selvaggi alla luce del sole, voglio sorrisi complici, voglio divertimento.&lt;br /&gt;Basta soffrire.&lt;br /&gt; Io so chi mi renderebbe felice davvero, e completa. Non sei tu.&lt;br /&gt;Ti ammiro, ma addio.&lt;br /&gt;Continuerò a curare le tue ferite quando avrai bisogno, ma volevo un pensiero maschile e con te è un&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; prendi uno e paghi due&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Io so chi mi renderebbe felice, ma non mi vuole. E non sei nemmeno tu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-5968843262558565277?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/5968843262558565277/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=5968843262558565277' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5968843262558565277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5968843262558565277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/quando-hai.html' title='quando hai...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6352709082788057241</id><published>2008-11-06T18:33:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T18:34:43.069+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Odio..</title><content type='html'>gli indecisi&lt;br /&gt;i lunatici&lt;br /&gt;i tronfi&lt;br /&gt;i viscidi&lt;br /&gt;i testardi nel torto&lt;br /&gt;gli ignoranti&lt;br /&gt;gli arroganti&lt;br /&gt;i presuntuosi&lt;br /&gt;i burini&lt;br /&gt;i tamarri&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6352709082788057241?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6352709082788057241/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6352709082788057241' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6352709082788057241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6352709082788057241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/odio.html' title='Odio..'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-4242340644069690918</id><published>2008-11-05T09:55:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T09:59:00.056+01:00</updated><title type='text'>really do not have the time...</title><content type='html'>You’ve got one night only,one night only&lt;br /&gt;that’s all you ’ve got have to spare..&lt;br /&gt;one night only,let’s not pretend to care&lt;br /&gt;One night only,one night only&lt;br /&gt;come on, big baby come on&lt;br /&gt;one night only ...we only have till dawn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; In the morning this feeling will be gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; it has no chance going on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Something so right has got no chance to live&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So let’s forget about chances..It’s one night I will give&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night only,one night only&lt;br /&gt;you’ll be the only one&lt;br /&gt;One night only..then you’ll have to run&lt;br /&gt;One night only, one night only&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing more to what I say&lt;br /&gt;One night only..what's getting away&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-4242340644069690918?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/4242340644069690918/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=4242340644069690918' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4242340644069690918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/4242340644069690918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/really-do-not-have-time.html' title='really do not have the time...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6861808616840125436</id><published>2008-11-04T01:07:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T01:12:19.259+01:00</updated><title type='text'>totalmente libera</title><content type='html'>la frigidità non è da me ma sto sperimentando la castità...quella desiderata. Non forzata: basta solo dire di no a chi non.... chi non ti dice nulla. O forse chi ti dice troppo: mai fidarsi dei signori "io sono speciale", corservano le più grasse fregature. Più grasse del mio fottutissimo culo, 110 cm in olio di oliva. Fra 20 cm avrò un culo da modella e un'altezza da bambino di 14 anni.&lt;br /&gt;Vabeh che i miei 14 annio non sono così lontani... Oh So So So...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;scrivo dopo una serata di prove, dopo aver bevuto una mc Farland (MEEEE drinkin beer? what's newt step? maybe Driving....haha!).. aver mangiato un double cheese con bacon in un posticino carino in zona maciachini...eccomi,qui che scrivo...&lt;br /&gt;ma è ora di andare a nanna.. e non ho sonno perchè ho delle parole che mi risuonano in mente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;" se io non fossi fidanzato...."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Già se dici "se.." non è un ottimo segno.&lt;br /&gt;Mai fidarsi degli uomini,quando imparerai? Quelli che quando ci sei sono contenti, quando tu hai bosogno non ci sono; quelli che quando chiedono tu scatti,sei capace di metterti a correre per raggiungerli,e poi,quando sei lì..ti trovi davanti ad un burrone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UOMINI: Tottus Igualis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6861808616840125436?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6861808616840125436/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6861808616840125436' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6861808616840125436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6861808616840125436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/totalmente-libera.html' title='totalmente libera'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-1611069216524223295</id><published>2008-11-03T10:33:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T10:39:08.993+01:00</updated><title type='text'>the importance of being single...</title><content type='html'>is just that, when you decide about your life, and start a "solo" carreer.. well, you feel better. And feel better if you feel good inside.&lt;br /&gt;The truth is that saturday night I was bored and someone I did not expect asked me to go together to the cinema...and it was a simple and great night.&lt;br /&gt;And that yesterday, really bored (this happens to single people who has friends with fiancée).. and I found a long-timed friend...and we talked so much..and I felt...better than ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and my computer, me and my voice, me and my friends,me and my brother, me and my totally nonsense loss of food..it's just that I feel good now. Good and Free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's so nice... looking at my life, as I've  seen in this two months of singletude... I have sooooo many MALE friends..&lt;br /&gt;what's wrong?:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-1611069216524223295?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/1611069216524223295/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=1611069216524223295' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1611069216524223295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/1611069216524223295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/importance-of-being-single.html' title='the importance of being single...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-796964093454912650</id><published>2008-11-02T16:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T16:57:31.749+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SQ3N4962JzI/AAAAAAAAAgg/vYYk8qfroao/s1600-h/IMG_2035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SQ3N4962JzI/AAAAAAAAAgg/vYYk8qfroao/s320/IMG_2035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264089918043727666" 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/11531023-796964093454912650?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/796964093454912650/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=796964093454912650' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/796964093454912650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/796964093454912650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SQ3N4962JzI/AAAAAAAAAgg/vYYk8qfroao/s72-c/IMG_2035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6274813119182988813</id><published>2008-11-02T16:53:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T16:55:33.229+01:00</updated><title type='text'>azzeccatissima...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He comes for conversation &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I comfort him sometimes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Comfort and consultation &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He knows that's what he'll find &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bring him apples and cheeses&lt;br /&gt;He brings me songs to play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He sees me when he pleases &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I see him in cafes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And I only say, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;hello&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And turn away, before his lady knows &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How much I want to see him &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She removes him, like a ring&lt;br /&gt;To wash her hands&lt;br /&gt;She only brings him out&lt;br /&gt;to show her friends &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to free him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secrets and sharing soda&lt;br /&gt;That's how our time began&lt;br /&gt;Love is a story told to our friends&lt;br /&gt;It's second hand&lt;br /&gt;But I'll listen to his questions&lt;br /&gt;I'll give my answers when they're found&lt;br /&gt;He says she keeps him guessing&lt;br /&gt;I know she keeps him down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She speaks in sorry sentences&lt;br /&gt;Miraculous repentances -&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe her.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow he will come to me&lt;br /&gt;And speak his soul,&lt;br /&gt;endlessly and he'll ask me why -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why can't I leave her? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He comes for conversation&lt;br /&gt;I comfort him sometimes&lt;br /&gt;Comfort and consultation&lt;br /&gt;He knows that's what he'll find.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6274813119182988813?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6274813119182988813/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6274813119182988813' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6274813119182988813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6274813119182988813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/11/azzeccatissima.html' title='azzeccatissima...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-182647461288242575</id><published>2008-10-30T11:42:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T11:49:04.531+01:00</updated><title type='text'>pensierosa....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SQmPufmThgI/AAAAAAAAAgY/qGF5fiYD2Xc/s1600-h/robyhat4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SQmPufmThgI/AAAAAAAAAgY/qGF5fiYD2Xc/s320/robyhat4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262895668478051842" 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/11531023-182647461288242575?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/182647461288242575/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=182647461288242575' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/182647461288242575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/182647461288242575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/pensierosa.html' title='pensierosa....'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SQmPufmThgI/AAAAAAAAAgY/qGF5fiYD2Xc/s72-c/robyhat4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-8185018226056133585</id><published>2008-10-29T17:42:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T18:06:14.229+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I was five and he was six&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; We rode on horses made of sticks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; He wore black and I wore white&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; He would always win the fight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Adulti, ci ritroviamo.&lt;br /&gt;Il mare s'è calmato, l'acqua è passata attraverso ponti, ha creato alluvioni, ci ha bagnati e raggelati d'inverno, rinfrescati d'estate.&lt;br /&gt;Non ricordo di aver giocato con te, forse si.. io ero isolata tu cittadino ma qui tornavi, per un po' di famiglia e naturalità.&lt;br /&gt;Il tuo colore di capelli non aveva nulla a che fare con le tue origini.&lt;br /&gt;Io nn ho mai mangiato il grano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando avevo 12 anni in piazza si formavano le compagnie. Noi eravamo tutti compagni di scuola,poi c'era Bicicletta e c'eri tu che, solo d'estate, accorrevi. Si camminava. Si chiacchierava. Qualcuno- non tu- mi chiese "ti fai una storia?" io risposti"vai a fari una sega!"..ma avevo 12 anni, nn sapevo nemmeno cosa significasse (l'avevo solo sentito dire). Vita normale.&lt;br /&gt;Oggi ho riletto un diario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;26 Giugno 1998: Alice uscirà alle 17.30, Andrea P. ha detto che lui uscirà alle 19 perchè deve fare i compiti. Gli ho detto "fare i compiti di sabato sera? Non esiste!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Insomma, ci si ritrovava.Non si beveva birra. Nemmeno coca-cola. Di solito uscivamo senza soldi. Però parlavamo molto. Qualcuno portava qualche sigaretta e allora si andava dietro al "bombolaio" a fumare. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Povera Silvana, che Dio la protegga.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non ricordo di essermi mai fatta una canna in piazza, almeno non io. E nemmeno i miei amici di allora.&lt;br /&gt;Noi eravamo grezzissimi. Chi portava vestiti dimessi (me compresa), chi non si poteva depilare perchè "mia mamma non vuole", chi comprava giornalini porno (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lo vedi Roby? sembrano fumetti normali ma c'è lo squalo disegnato,vuol dire che sono proibiti&lt;/span&gt;)..&lt;br /&gt;Tu eri vestito veramente bene, indossavi gli occhialetti, avevi la faccia da bravo ragazzo- lo eri- non dicevi mai una parolaccia mentre noi eravamo dei piccoli scaricatori di porto in erba.&lt;br /&gt;Noi tutte pendevamo dalle tue labbra, perchè eri per noi "la novità"*, perchè eri gentile con tutti e non ti importava se una era grassa,una bassa, una pelosa, una bona. Eravamo tutte uguali e ci trattavi allo stesso modo. Educato. Mi viene in mente questo. Una cosa rara,per i nostri tempi. Eravamo bravi, eravamo stati educati ma eravamo dei miseri ribelli.&lt;br /&gt;Leggo il diario:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;1997: io,Alice, Andrea, Dario e Michela siamo andati in pineta a fare una passeggiata. però non possiamo dirlo ai nostri genitori, sennò pensano male.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inutile dire che la prima cosa che feci fu dirlo ai miei genitori che, come i genitori degli altri, non ebbero problemi.&lt;br /&gt;Noi eravamo abituati alla gente che andava ad appartarsi in pineta..vedevamo i preservativi usati buttati qui e là, avevamo paura pensassero che noi ci fossimo appartati..eravamo così piccoli, a 14 anni.&lt;br /&gt;Piccoli e anche abbastanza innocenti, allora.Non assessuati, ma innocenti e bravi. Che bei tempi, un po' mi mancano. Quanto ho riso, quegli anni, dopo la tristezza e il dolore, ho iniziato a ridere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L'estate era la parte migliore, si poteva uscire a tutte le ore, tutti insieme. Ci venne in mente di scrivere un film e questa non fu una idea originale, poiché  i nostri fratelli e sorelle, che erano parte della compagnia più grande, ne stavano girano uno. Fox Ruander e Dany Trulli. Allora io e Alice decidemmo per scrivere un film su Cortoghy City.&lt;br /&gt;Io per la cresima mi comprai la videocamera, la pagai 800 mila lire e..il film non vide nemmeno il primo ciak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qualche volta io Alice, a 13 anni, andammo al mare da sole. In pullman. Una volta si ruppe l'ombrello e ci dovettimo unire ad una nostra compagnia di classe per non morire insolate. Fu una giornata divertente. Diventammo scurissime, io bionda lei mora.&lt;br /&gt;Bei tempi, bei tempi. Quando ancora diventavo molto bionda senza usare Crystal Soleil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Bang bang, he shot me down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Bang bang, I hit the ground&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Bang bang, that awful sound&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Bang bang, my baby shot me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Non so a te,  ma a me è accaduto spesso. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Someone, during my years, shoot me down.&lt;/span&gt; Ma adesso sono qui. I miei amici, i nostri amici di un tempo, sparsi per l'Italia. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Su coru est s'isola.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sono contenta di rivederti. Chissà se hai ancora quella faccia pulita e gli occhiali rotondi.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*la novità: in ogni paesino che si rispetti, quando uno "stranger" arriva, viene squadrato da cima a fondo. Se femmina, bella o brutta che sia, viene corteggiata da tutti , tendenzialmente con la frase "te la fai na sssshtoria?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&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/11531023-8185018226056133585?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/8185018226056133585/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=8185018226056133585' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8185018226056133585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8185018226056133585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-was-five-and-he-was-six-we-rode-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-71026564337881908</id><published>2008-10-28T10:39:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T11:22:12.836+01:00</updated><title type='text'>e' urgente</title><content type='html'>Ho camminato e ho sorriso nel vederti: nel grigio, raccoglievi immagini immobili sotto un cielo terso.&lt;br /&gt;Hai sorriso anche tu quando, nel rimorso, ti ho scosso il braccio.&lt;br /&gt;Ti sei voltato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No, non mi piaci. No, non sei bello. No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Affascina il modo in cui guardi al mondo, in cui guardi me.&lt;br /&gt;La tua mano sulla spalla, la tua testa sulla spalla..ti sfioro i capelli...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hai già sonno?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non vedi che la notte è appena iniziata e dopo, dopo questa sola notte, non ci resta niente altro che un buon caffè preparato velocemente, poco zucchero,&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; poca dolcezza&lt;/span&gt;..e un "buona fortuna"?&lt;br /&gt;Sorridimi. Cantami qualcosa..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You could buy me diamonds&lt;/span&gt;... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;what should I do, I'm just a little baby&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Listen to the sound here&lt;/span&gt;...'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cause I keep on falling in and out&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Non poggiarti su di me,ti prego.&lt;br /&gt;Non considerarmi tua amica perchè tale non sono.&lt;br /&gt;Io non ti guardo con occhi innocenti, non ti ammiro per la tua persona.&lt;br /&gt;Io ammiro il tuo ammiccare, ammiro il tuo corpo e pendo dalle tue labbra quando mi parli di cose che non conosco.&lt;br /&gt;Mi hai fatto scoprire di avere dei limiti e purtroppo, in questo unico fortuito caso, non sono io il limite massimo all'evoluzione degli eventi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dicevo, mi hai sorriso. Abbiamo scambiato poche parole, semplici.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sto scappando, sono in ritardo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La realtà è che mi hai messo buonumore, come nella breve notte, in piccionaia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non riesco a dormire. Tu continui a rivolgermi parole e complimenti, parliamo di sigari e dita..dico &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cazzo! cosa mi porta qui adesso, a stare con te, a dirti che non ti voglio così, a dirmi che non ti posso volere..ma sono umana, sono donna...voglio te,voglio solo te, adesso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dopo, non lo so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi sveglio,la mattina. Svanito.&lt;br /&gt;So che tornerai, lo so. Perchè tu hai bisogno di me.&lt;br /&gt;La verità è che io non ho bisogno di te. Ho bisogno di me stessa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SQbgkMmZ2pI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/EIkziYdsqvI/s1600-h/100_1139.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SQbgkMmZ2pI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/EIkziYdsqvI/s320/100_1139.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262140127091219090" 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/11531023-71026564337881908?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/71026564337881908/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=71026564337881908' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/71026564337881908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/71026564337881908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/e-urgente.html' title='e&apos; urgente'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SQbgkMmZ2pI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/EIkziYdsqvI/s72-c/100_1139.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-8597401298068792689</id><published>2008-10-27T13:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T13:09:40.087+01:00</updated><title type='text'>petit bateau</title><content type='html'>non so perchè questo titolo,ma quello che mi viene in mente è un petit bateau..forse per navigare altrove?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-8597401298068792689?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/8597401298068792689/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=8597401298068792689' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8597401298068792689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8597401298068792689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/petit-bateau.html' title='petit bateau'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-473653322144353260</id><published>2008-10-26T19:03:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T19:05:04.109+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Lurida peccatrice...&lt;br /&gt;.....verrai crocifissa e il tuo corpo trafitto da lance e spade d'argento...&lt;br /&gt;........verrai derisa e denigrata...e non otterrai mai quello per cui ti sei fatta rovinare...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hai tradito il nono comandamento divino&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-473653322144353260?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/473653322144353260/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=473653322144353260' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/473653322144353260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/473653322144353260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/lurida-peccatrice.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-3446656251266301706</id><published>2008-10-24T14:26:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:27:55.748+02:00</updated><title type='text'>nice is..</title><content type='html'>a female friends who gives u a special present...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is the present.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 432px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 330px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://static.blogo.it/gadgetblog/anello-vibrante-durex/play_ring_anello_vibrante_durex.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-3446656251266301706?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/3446656251266301706/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=3446656251266301706' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3446656251266301706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/3446656251266301706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/nice-is.html' title='nice is..'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-5255666717109548663</id><published>2008-10-22T17:16:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T17:16:49.123+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e alla fine...</title><content type='html'>..... arriva Maurizio...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRAZIE COACH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-5255666717109548663?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/5255666717109548663/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=5255666717109548663' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5255666717109548663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5255666717109548663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/e-alla-fine.html' title='e alla fine...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-5007087005903652382</id><published>2008-10-20T11:12:00.008+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T11:20:54.291+02:00</updated><title type='text'>giorni felici....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;con i miei amici....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16-17 e 18 ottobre 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxMq6K5LUI/AAAAAAAAAgI/C4fdgDdVA20/s1600-h/100_1021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxMq6K5LUI/AAAAAAAAAgI/C4fdgDdVA20/s320/100_1021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259162764915060034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; le tre dottoresse in lingue: Ilaria, Arianna e Roby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxMe4FH4lI/AAAAAAAAAgA/YTde67nflC4/s1600-h/100_1003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxMe4FH4lI/AAAAAAAAAgA/YTde67nflC4/s320/100_1003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259162558195556946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;two singers: Debora e Roby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxMTxfu4EI/AAAAAAAAAf4/r0D9PV3HkKM/s1600-h/jorob.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxMTxfu4EI/AAAAAAAAAf4/r0D9PV3HkKM/s320/jorob.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259162367449555010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;joking: Roby e Jo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxMMZiKYsI/AAAAAAAAAfw/FQv9X06beyk/s1600-h/100_1043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxMMZiKYsI/AAAAAAAAAfw/FQv9X06beyk/s320/100_1043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259162240758211266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxMBSQQ0fI/AAAAAAAAAfo/5sdEC3EFpOA/s1600-h/ro-jo-lu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxMBSQQ0fI/AAAAAAAAAfo/5sdEC3EFpOA/s320/ro-jo-lu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259162049825526258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Jo, Roby and Lumon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxL2j69eqI/AAAAAAAAAfg/5cBTBM5aCBA/s1600-h/100_1074.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxL2j69eqI/AAAAAAAAAfg/5cBTBM5aCBA/s320/100_1074.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259161865589455522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Roby and sweet Bigaz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxLrNIC7xI/AAAAAAAAAfY/2V5q6eSL6-s/s1600-h/100_1102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxLrNIC7xI/AAAAAAAAAfY/2V5q6eSL6-s/s320/100_1102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259161670491762450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; Roberta &amp;amp; Marco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;...... I LOVE YOU, GUYS!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/11531023-5007087005903652382?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/5007087005903652382/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=5007087005903652382' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5007087005903652382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5007087005903652382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/giorni-felici.html' title='giorni felici....'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPxMq6K5LUI/AAAAAAAAAgI/C4fdgDdVA20/s72-c/100_1021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-9061734947800990167</id><published>2008-10-18T11:54:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T11:55:24.593+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:250;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;STATEMI ALLA LARGA..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:350;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;NON E' GIORNATA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-9061734947800990167?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/9061734947800990167/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=9061734947800990167' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/9061734947800990167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/9061734947800990167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/statemi-alla-larga.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-8925185379269172629</id><published>2008-10-16T09:13:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T10:19:28.065+02:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;early in the morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;you can feel IT running through your veins, your chest..and belly..&lt;br /&gt;your finger types but you can't stop thinking... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that If you were not alone, that if He was there.&lt;/span&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are alone, darling.&lt;br /&gt;You have to do everything all by yourself&lt;br /&gt;'cause &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;words are sometimes full of sensibility, sometimes not..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and you feel like "not".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think, darling, think.&lt;br /&gt;Think cause thinking is all you can do, today&lt;br /&gt;'cause you won't ask anybody&lt;br /&gt;"please, take me as I am"&lt;br /&gt;'cause you don't have to beg for anything at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are here&lt;br /&gt;and wait&lt;br /&gt;and wait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;still waiting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and doesn't matter if you are alone&lt;br /&gt;You know you are not and that you deserve...&lt;br /&gt;you deserve all that you need&lt;br /&gt;'cause you are a good girl, a good lovely girl&lt;br /&gt;and nobody can deny it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, little baby, wait&lt;br /&gt;and cry, hush, hugs somebody&lt;br /&gt;but wait&lt;br /&gt;it's not your turn, now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and you don't want&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; him&lt;/span&gt; for fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-8925185379269172629?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/8925185379269172629/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=8925185379269172629' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8925185379269172629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/8925185379269172629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-5935438789401323292</id><published>2008-10-14T11:58:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T12:00:14.051+02:00</updated><title type='text'>saturday night...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPRti4-yRrI/AAAAAAAAAe4/TnHDVmfSdoc/s1600-h/Immag018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPRti4-yRrI/AAAAAAAAAe4/TnHDVmfSdoc/s320/Immag018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256947111226918578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;I'll make you mine, you know..&lt;br /&gt;I'll take you to the top..&lt;br /&gt;I'll drive you crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-5935438789401323292?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/5935438789401323292/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=5935438789401323292' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5935438789401323292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5935438789401323292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/saturday-night.html' title='saturday night...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPRti4-yRrI/AAAAAAAAAe4/TnHDVmfSdoc/s72-c/Immag018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-151284313591176730</id><published>2008-10-13T23:25:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T08:28:15.360+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;L'unico modo per non annegare, è raccontarti del mio mare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma sarà una cosa &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lenta, difficile, dolorosa&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non riesco a carpirti, vento.&lt;br /&gt;Vedo i tuoi occhi e capisco che non c'è spazio, per me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....non ce ne è mai stato, per me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.atlastours.net/jordan/dead_sea_sunset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.atlastours.net/jordan/dead_sea_sunset.jpg" alt="" 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/11531023-151284313591176730?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/151284313591176730/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=151284313591176730' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/151284313591176730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/151284313591176730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/lunico-modo-per-non-annegare.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-7138143506588149111</id><published>2008-10-13T15:41:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T15:42:24.763+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e dopo tot mesi...</title><content type='html'>si ritorna in palestra...&lt;br /&gt;una figata. Mi è mancata....&lt;br /&gt;Da rifare sicuramente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRESTO.MOLTO PRESTO.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-7138143506588149111?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/7138143506588149111/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=7138143506588149111' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7138143506588149111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/7138143506588149111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/e-dopo-tot-mesi.html' title='e dopo tot mesi...'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-947993067622120133</id><published>2008-10-12T10:09:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T10:11:40.711+02:00</updated><title type='text'>joan baez's back to milan</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPGxDpACeKI/AAAAAAAAAew/GcZ-_hGjJ0I/s1600-h/roby-crook.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPGxDpACeKI/AAAAAAAAAew/GcZ-_hGjJ0I/s200/roby-crook.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256176916221819042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Crook Stewart III ( JB tour manager) and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-947993067622120133?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/947993067622120133/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=947993067622120133' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/947993067622120133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/947993067622120133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/joan-baezs-back-to-milan.html' title='joan baez&apos;s back to milan'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3ome29h1ehk/SPGxDpACeKI/AAAAAAAAAew/GcZ-_hGjJ0I/s72-c/roby-crook.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6868931069900182091</id><published>2008-10-10T10:40:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T10:43:19.791+02:00</updated><title type='text'>present perfect continuous</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; I've been loving you too long to stop now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; There were time and you want to be free&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; My love is growing stronger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, as you become a habit to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Oh &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;I've been loving you a little too long&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I dont wanna stop now, oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; With you my life,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; Has been so wonderful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I can't stop now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; There were times and your love is growing cold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; My love is growing stronger as our affair [affair] grows old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I've been loving you a little too long, long,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I don't want to stop now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; oh, oh, oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I've been loving you a little bit too long&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I don't wanna stop now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; No, no, no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;on't make me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; stop now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; No baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; I'm &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;down on my knees &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Please, don't make me stop now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; I love you, I love you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; I love you with all of my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; And I can't stop now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; Don't make me stop now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; Please, please don't make me stop now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; Good god almighty I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; I love you, I love you, I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; I love you, I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I love you in so many different ways...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; I love you in so many different ways...&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#444433;"&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/11531023-6868931069900182091?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6868931069900182091/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6868931069900182091' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6868931069900182091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6868931069900182091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/present-perfect-continuous.html' title='present perfect continuous'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-6869973449179254400</id><published>2008-10-09T13:21:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T13:22:36.351+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Il mio ultimo post ha avuto numerosissimi commenti positivi anche se chi ha letto non ha commentato ma ha preferito telefonarmi.&lt;br /&gt;Telefonate da tutta italia per la donna del mare ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veniamo a noi.&lt;br /&gt;Oggi mi è venuta l'influenza.&lt;br /&gt;GoodGame.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-6869973449179254400?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/6869973449179254400/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=6869973449179254400' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6869973449179254400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/6869973449179254400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/il-mio-ultimo-post-ha-avuto.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-9007864227590771630</id><published>2008-10-08T10:11:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T10:48:22.027+02:00</updated><title type='text'>sensi di colpa</title><content type='html'>Ora, è inutile che ti trinceri dietro una maschera di virilità, o mi mandi messaggi per dirmi che stai bene.&lt;br /&gt;Fondamentalmente, scrivere qui è darti importanza.. ma, come dici tu "anche se non sono cazzi miei", tu leggi il mio blog.&lt;br /&gt;Il blog è pubblico, leggilo pure, non risparmierò di scrivere ne scriverò di più solo perchè so che lo leggi (sporadicamente, a quanto pare, ma lo leggi).&lt;br /&gt;Veniamo ai punti salienti, con calma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Io non nego che tu mi abbia amata, seppur in un modo tutto tuo che non sempre mi piaceva : sentirsi scaricare addosso i tuoi problemi quali fossero colpa mia non è mai stato piacevole; ed io, molto remissiva, poi ho addensato ogni minimo elemento e sono esplosa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E non nego nemeno di essere stata, forse, troppo pressante, quando ti dicevo che non ti saresti mai ricostruito una vita se avessi continuato a stare legato al tuo passato come fosse ancora il tuo presente: la tua famiglia-anzi,quella di tua moglie- a cui hai ben pensato di non presentarmi e nemmeno affermare che ci eravamo fidanzati e che mi volevi sposare(almeno a me avevi detto così- ed io ero felice, perchè innamorata come ero, ti avrei sposato subito).&lt;br /&gt;No, non lo hai fatto, mi hai tenuta nascosta anche dai tuoi "amici" -conosciuti 3 mesi prima che io ti lasciassi- ai quali hai ben pensato di evitare di presentarmi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A volte mi sono chiesta il perchè di tutto questo: perchè ad un bimbo di 7 anni dicevi "io e roby ci sposiamo" -col potenziale rischio di traumatizzarlo ancora- mentre a degli adulti di me non dicevi nulla o comunque me li tenevi lontani anni luce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho pensato di valere troppo poco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La verità, mi rendo conto, è che effettivamente valgo troppo, e quando me ne sono accorta, era il 25  Luglio 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Io non nego tu mi abbia rispettata, ho passato con te dei momenti di pura felicità, ed altri in cui stavo male, malissimo, accusata di cose ingiuste.&lt;br /&gt;Ma vedi, uno alla fine impara, e quando ha alle spalle persone sincere e leali- che diventano rifugio  e ti aprono gli occhi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ringrazio chi mi ha mostrato con durezza (e affetto) ogni minchiata immeritata che dovevo sopportare- probabilmente anche tu hai dovuto sopportarne di mie, ma non mi sovvengono.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Succede, un giorno, che l'uomo che amo mi dice "tu mi ami troppo...non mi lascerai mai..."&lt;br /&gt;Succede che l'uomo che amo dice che io lo do per scontato, quando, dopo l'affermazione sopracitata, mi ero sentita scontatissima..&lt;br /&gt;.....e ti avevo risposto "ti ricordi la fenice tatuata sulla spalla? Io rinasco sempre. Io ti Amo,ma amo molto anche me stessa,non scordartelo".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Succede che alla mia festa di laurea c'è una persona che non merita di esserci, una persona che dovrebbe essere il mio fidanzato ma che mi trova noiosa...&lt;br /&gt;.... che dice che vuole uscire con i suoi amici e divertirsi- quando mai glielo avessi impedito..&lt;br /&gt;....una persona che mi dice anche che quando lui è con suo figlio vorrebbe stessi con loro perchè vorrebbe sentire che siamo una famiglia (dolce, non trovate?), ma che quando non ha il bambino vorrebbe sentirsi libero di uscire da solo coi suoi amici.. (dolce, non trovate?)...&lt;br /&gt;... una persona che dice che non sa se ti ama, perchè lui si sveglia la mattina e non ha uno scopo di vita...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ti voglio far capire cosa mi si è scatenato dentro, quando mia madre-mia madrina-mio padre- le mie amiche mi dicevano "dai non correre, tutto si risolve".. io ho detto "SI risolve come dico io, adesso".&lt;br /&gt;Io, mentre cucinavo per i miei ospiti per la MIA laurea, mentre pulivo casa, piangevo (e piangevo per non prenderti a pugni) e pensavo pensavo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Roby. Hai 24 anni. Sei intelligente, ti sei appena laureata dopo tantissima fatica. Sei una ragazza solare,socievole, brillante. Vuoi o non vuoi, non sei manco brutta. Anzi, c'è chi ha il coraggio di trovarti pure sensuale. Non ti mancano gli amici, e riesci ad instaurare amicizie continue. Riesci a tenere banco quando si intavola un discorso, serio o fatuo che sia. Hai un mestiere in mano, anzi forse ne hai più di uno anche se sei giovane. Canti,e lo fai bene. Ti sei appena laureata, stai per iniziare una specialistica interessantissima, vorresti fare l'erasmus, andare in Argentina.. ti piacerebbe un dottorato..un master... Hai una sete di conoscienza enorme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hai tante porte aperte davanti a te, e le avresti chiuse tutte pur di stare con l'uomo che ami. Saresti tornata in Sardegna-terra che ami e che offre poco- pur di stare al suo fianco,perchè lo amavi. Ti saresti ACCONTENTATA di un lavoro mediocre pur di stare con lui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Roby... ma mi vuoi dire CHE CAZZO STAI FACENDO?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Non ho pensato per un solo momento che sarei mai potuta ne che avrei voluto tornare con te. Un po' perchè non lo volevo,un po' perchè ero corteggiatissima-invincibile-entusiasta.&lt;br /&gt;Mi sono divertita coi miei amici e le mie amiche, ne ho conosciuto di nuovi e mi hanno aiutato a capire TE più di quanto tu capisca te stesso. E ho avuto una splendida estate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E ringrazio di cuore una persona che è stata rifuGio dEi miEi mali e non solo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Ora. Sai che sto bene. Che vivo la mia Vita. Che sono serena,felice.&lt;br /&gt;LINO, io sono FELICE.&lt;br /&gt;Io mi affaccio al balcone, vedo il cielo, fumo i sigari che un amico mi ha regalato e penso..&lt;br /&gt;                                                             IO SONO FELICE.&lt;br /&gt;Perchè mi sveglio e non ho paura che l'uomo di turno che amo possa sclerare ancora- che ce ne sia una nuova, l'ennesima.&lt;br /&gt;Perchè vado a letto e sorrido.&lt;br /&gt;Perchè quando tiro un respiro profondo non sento un peso sul diaframma.&lt;br /&gt;Perchè ADESSO, sarò io a decidere di andare in Erasmus e per quanti mesi o meno, di andare in Argentina o meno, di fare un dottorato o meno. E sarò io a decidere quando e perchè seguire un uomo, senza bisogno di ACCONTENTARMI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, prima cosa su tutto, per il valore che ho, ho il diritto di sentirmi una PRINCIPESSA.&lt;br /&gt;E non bastano le parole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;...e con questa, spero tu abbia capito.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(come ti dicevo sempre&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;:la differenza tra me e te è che io se devo tagliare una relazione la taglio, tu non hai coraggio .)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&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/11531023-9007864227590771630?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/9007864227590771630/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=9007864227590771630' title='8 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/9007864227590771630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/9007864227590771630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/sensi-di-colpa.html' title='sensi di colpa'/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11531023.post-5601298634032517035</id><published>2008-10-07T20:32:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T20:32:58.791+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>io amo un uragano, e voglio che lei lo sappia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11531023-5601298634032517035?l=donnadelmare.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/feeds/5601298634032517035/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11531023&amp;postID=5601298634032517035' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5601298634032517035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11531023/posts/default/5601298634032517035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://donnadelmare.blogspot.com/2008/10/io-amo-un-uragano-e-voglio-che-lei-lo.html' title=''/><author><name>Donna del Mare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16054333246097100853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs14/f/2007/089/c/5/child_by_donnadelmare.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
