<?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-9065351647487954039</id><updated>2011-12-25T02:49:45.852-02:00</updated><title type='text'>The saddest song...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-4227797853518260454</id><published>2011-12-25T02:46:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2011-12-25T02:49:45.857-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sobre natais...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;" class="post_content" id="post_content_14754408840"&gt;                                                                         &lt;div class="post_title"&gt;Sem toques nem sinos, ou palavras e braços.&lt;/div&gt;                                                                                                        &lt;p&gt;Fica um sopro dentro de mim que por vezes vira ventania tentando ocupar todo o meu vazio.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;E a gente sempre tem aquele fiozinho de esperança que um milagre natalino aconteça.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;…por menos que acreditemos.&lt;/p&gt;                                                     &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-4227797853518260454?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/4227797853518260454/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=4227797853518260454' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/4227797853518260454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/4227797853518260454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2011/12/sobre-natais.html' title='Sobre natais...'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-3269989307486975600</id><published>2010-12-03T00:29:00.010-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T01:25:03.885-02:00</updated><title type='text'>JUMP IN.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_dowLG8V-H2U/TOxSFl8sdBI/AAAAAAAACqU/fu2tLz7srII/large%20into%20the%20wild%20blu-ray2_thumb%5B4%5D.jpg?imgmax=800"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 584px; height: 343px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_dowLG8V-H2U/TOxSFl8sdBI/AAAAAAAACqU/fu2tLz7srII/large%20into%20the%20wild%20blu-ray2_thumb%5B4%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sinto uma vontade de mim que nunca senti. O momento é meu.&lt;br /&gt;Me vejo fazendo inúmeros planos, e ao contrário de sempre, não me sinto idiota em fazê-los.&lt;br /&gt;O sentimento é de estar &lt;span&gt;viva&lt;/span&gt; depois de anos entorpecida, talvez uma vida inteira!&lt;br /&gt;O que mudou? Nada.&lt;br /&gt;A falta de encaixe, a sensação de perdida, a solidão, intrínsecas em mim fizeram me aceitar.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho feito dessa inquietação coisa boa.&lt;br /&gt;Transbordo expectativas, metas e não as chamo de sonhos porque soariam inalcançaveis, gosto de enxergá-las como grandes possibilidades, realizações.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;Como se o mundo fosse realmente pequeno demais pra mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosto da minha companhia, valorizo minha liberdade e a MINHA descoberta tem sido tão gratificante que neste instante, não CABE em minha vida ninguém além de mim, (com todo o egoísmo que possa soar!) E pela primeira vez isso não me parece assustador, at all.&lt;br /&gt;No fim das contas, tudo mudou então.&lt;br /&gt;Eu VEJO isso agora.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-3269989307486975600?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/3269989307486975600/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=3269989307486975600' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3269989307486975600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3269989307486975600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2010/12/jump-in.html' title='JUMP IN.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_dowLG8V-H2U/TOxSFl8sdBI/AAAAAAAACqU/fu2tLz7srII/s72-c/large%20into%20the%20wild%20blu-ray2_thumb%5B4%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-1329550364215667992</id><published>2010-06-08T23:53:00.017-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T21:47:06.273-03:00</updated><title type='text'>'Pelos cotovelos' -  Sobre falar sozinha.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/TA8H7eA1wDI/AAAAAAAAATA/OT-F8CTHmtQ/s1600/Ethown.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 127px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/TA8H7eA1wDI/AAAAAAAAATA/OT-F8CTHmtQ/s200/Ethown.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480607989783445554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Por mais rodeada de pessoas que eu possa estar, me sentir completamente sozinha sempre foi normal pra mim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Levo isso comigo desde que me conheço por gente, talvez por minha própria culpa. Pela minha conhecida timidez, ou pelo meu &lt;span&gt;desinteresse&lt;/span&gt; mesmo em qualquer conversa, com qualquer pessoa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Eu parecia estar calejada dessa sensação. Acostumada a não ter como dividir com alguém as discussões, indagações, conclusões, opiniões que pra mim, nunca são suficientes. Bater papos BONS mesmo, que valessem a pena e um dia inteiro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Mas a necessidade de as vezes ouvir uma outra voz junto com a minha, tem me assustado, me deixado mal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-family:verdana;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em casa, alguns amigos, no bar, conhecendo pessoas ou no msn, não é assim que funciona, não é qualquer 'small talk'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Na falta disso eu escrevo, como se estivesse falando comigo mesma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Não, não ajuda. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não, não é a mesma coisa.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas dá ao menos pra tirar algumas coisas da cabeça, alguns desabafos...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ou talvez não faça nenhum sentido, sei lá.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei que o que eu preciso mesmo, são grandes conversas e fora da minha cabeça.&lt;br /&gt;Apenas isso, juro e nada mais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;All I need...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-1329550364215667992?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/1329550364215667992/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=1329550364215667992' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/1329550364215667992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/1329550364215667992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2010/06/pelos-cotovelos-sobre-falar-sozinha.html' title='&apos;Pelos cotovelos&apos; -  Sobre falar sozinha.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/TA8H7eA1wDI/AAAAAAAAATA/OT-F8CTHmtQ/s72-c/Ethown.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-7006968930002641391</id><published>2010-02-23T11:55:00.011-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T08:24:52.601-03:00</updated><title type='text'>buracos.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/S4Qe37hYmaI/AAAAAAAAASc/W_nd_yQVKto/s1600-h/martian-child-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 200px; display: block; height: 134px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441508195989756322" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/S4Qe37hYmaI/AAAAAAAAASc/W_nd_yQVKto/s200/martian-child-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eu espero muito de mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Me cobro a maior parte do tempo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Talvez eu nunca pare de questionar a vida, a minha pricipalmente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Até pelo menos não sentir mais esse eterno vazio que eu nunca soube preencher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tenho mil expectativas, e levo junto a elas o peso de uma bigorna em cada ombro por não saber supri-las, entende-las ou simplesmente dividi-las.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Me curvo, cansada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Assim como a menina que tanto almejou alcançar a Lua, por hora, desisti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tenho me arrastado. P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;or acreditar (ou desacreditar ?), que nunca serei boa suficiente pra mim mesma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Vivo então no &lt;strong&gt;piloto automático.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nao ando. Nem pra frente nem pra trás.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;No momento me escondo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dentro da minha caixa, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;quase com vergonha. P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;or ter perdido a fé naquela pitada de mágica que pode existir na vida, ou podemos chamar de pequenos milagres (tanto faz). Aquele sentimento que não conseguimos explicar, mas nos faz &lt;strong&gt;otimistas&lt;/strong&gt; de alguma forma pelo que está por vir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A tal da esperança.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A menina que gostava da sensação de olhar pra Lua e sonhar que um dia iria além dela, (não sem antes fazer uma escala na mesma para dançar loucamente), que sempre gostou das longas conversas, de pessoas inteiras, de acrescentar e questionar o mundo, está se perdendo pouco a pouco no meio de suas frustrações, tombos e ilusões.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ela não espera por mais nada, ela não &lt;strong&gt;consegue&lt;/strong&gt; acreditar mais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eu poderia poupar algumas dores de cabeça e aquele frio na espinha constantes, simplesmente não pensando nisso at all. mas não sei o quanto disso me faria mais vazia do que já me sinto. não seria eu, afinal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;=/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-7006968930002641391?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/7006968930002641391/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=7006968930002641391' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/7006968930002641391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/7006968930002641391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2010/02/buracos.html' title='buracos.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/S4Qe37hYmaI/AAAAAAAAASc/W_nd_yQVKto/s72-c/martian-child-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-4215352410724554329</id><published>2010-01-07T11:58:00.010-02:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T08:24:03.738-03:00</updated><title type='text'>interior.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-f-NNfcYD0M/SA1Bu1Yk9MI/AAAAAAAAAV8/JbnYGPvmHHs/s400/DSCF1325-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 301px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-f-NNfcYD0M/SA1Bu1Yk9MI/AAAAAAAAAV8/JbnYGPvmHHs/s400/DSCF1325-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Some people sleep easy, some people don't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I see you keep the light on, stops you feeling so alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Some people make it better, some make it worse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He thought he held you lightly, but he got you where it hurts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You're not the one, you're not the one to blame.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;Dream on Hayley - James Morrison&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;tem um nó na garganta, que precisa sair na forma de palavras, mas não sai. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;ontem eu escrevi, escrevi, mas não consegui nada de muito concreto. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;escrevi sentada na cama vazia, olhando pra bolsa pendurada na maçaneta da porta fechada. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;meu quarto. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;quase um refugio. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;escrevi como o barulho da chuva na janela me lembra música. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;as músicas. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;o som da tv, que só nao estava mais longe do que alguns pensamentos meus. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;ou dos resquícios das coisas boas. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;e de como minha bagunça não se resume às roupas espalhadas e armarios desarrumados. assim como a minha vergonhosa timidez, ela está intrínseca em mim. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;aquela bagunça que nem eu entendo, que ocupa todos neurônios quando deito a cabeça no travesseiro. que assusta os outros e faz ninguém querer ficar. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;e que por isso, agora é só minha. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;-sabe o nó, as palavras, o que eu preciso expressar? simplesmente não sai.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-4215352410724554329?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/4215352410724554329/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=4215352410724554329' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/4215352410724554329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/4215352410724554329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2010/01/interior.html' title='interior.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-f-NNfcYD0M/SA1Bu1Yk9MI/AAAAAAAAAV8/JbnYGPvmHHs/s72-c/DSCF1325-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-5282799457431889202</id><published>2009-11-05T16:43:00.013-02:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T08:22:00.896-03:00</updated><title type='text'>a INCRÍVEL arte do acreditar.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://galvaobruno.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/arvore-seca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 550px; height: 550px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://galvaobruno.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/arvore-seca.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;começa abrindo um olho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;para abrir o outro depois, é um pulo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;aí você percebe que seu quarto não é azul de bolinhas brancas, nem sua cama a morada de monstros assustadores.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;mas a maior parte do tempo, ficamos de olhos fechados. e por vontade própria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;'..I've spent so long firmly looking outside me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I've spent so much time living in survival mode.'  -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Precious Illusions - Alanis Morissete&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;'For a fake chinese rubber plant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;In the fake&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;plastic earth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;That she bought from a rubber man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;In a town full of rubber plans&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;To get rid of itself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;It wears her out, it wears her out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;It wears her out, it wears her out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;She lives with a broken man &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;A cracked polystyrene man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Who just crumbles and burns &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;He used to do surgery &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;On&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;girls in the eighties &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;But gravity always wins &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;And it wears him out, it wears him out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;It wears him out, it wears him out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;She looks like the real thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;She tastes like the real thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;My fake plastic love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;But I can't help the feeling &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I could blow through the ceiling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;If I just turn and run &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;And it wears me out,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;it wears me out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;It wears me out, it wears me out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;And if I could be who you wanted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;If I could&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;be who you wanted &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;All the time, all the time'&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Fake Plastic Trees - Radiohead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-5282799457431889202?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/5282799457431889202/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=5282799457431889202' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/5282799457431889202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/5282799457431889202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/11/incrivel-arte-do-acreditar.html' title='a INCRÍVEL arte do acreditar.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-7055212715417005266</id><published>2009-10-02T21:58:00.012-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T08:12:46.804-03:00</updated><title type='text'>técnica da cadeira vazia.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aCP0yYyGbWw/SfJaS8Hp3CI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wWvvLRFRpfE/s320/espelho+quebrado.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 273px; cursor: pointer; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aCP0yYyGbWw/SfJaS8Hp3CI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wWvvLRFRpfE/s320/espelho+quebrado.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Te acalma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Me acalma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Não é tão assustador.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Enxuga esse choro, engole essa lágrima, eu estou aqui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;O medo te envolve, meus braços também.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Então, canta que eu canto junto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Canta que te faz dormir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Canta que te faz sonhar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;Canta que me faz lembrar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Minhas mãos enroscam nas suas, minha testa de encontro com seu beijo, eu sempre de encaixe no seu peito, dentro do teu abraço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Levanta esse sorriso, abre essa cabeça, eu continuo do seu lado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Meus passos deixando outras pegadas, minha mão escapando da sua, nossos olhares desviados.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Te protege.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Me protege.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Não é escuro assim, e nem você tão sozinha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;'... If I sing a song will you sing along?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Or should I just keep singing right here by myself?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;If I follow along does it mean I belong?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Or will I keep on feeling different from everyobody else?...'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-7055212715417005266?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/7055212715417005266/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=7055212715417005266' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/7055212715417005266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/7055212715417005266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/10/tecnica-da-cadeira-vazia.html' title='técnica da cadeira vazia.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aCP0yYyGbWw/SfJaS8Hp3CI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wWvvLRFRpfE/s72-c/espelho+quebrado.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-3496036660681442701</id><published>2009-09-13T23:25:00.012-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T08:09:43.539-03:00</updated><title type='text'>João, Maria e o caminho.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;Então eu andei .&lt;br /&gt;Pra frente, pelo menos era o almejado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;Com todos medos, inseguranças.  Centenas de dúvidas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;algumas certezas.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;O que me movia,  algo grande. Só eu sabia o quão grande.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Eu te alcancei ou  você me alcançou, nao sei, isso não importa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Andamos juntos um tempo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Eu tropeçava com a minha falta de jeito,  a gente ria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Você parava, perguntando-se sobre o caminho certo, e eu apenas pegava tua mão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Não sei em qual parte do trajeto a gente se perdeu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Como em João e Maria, os pedaços de pão foram deixados pra trás, para sempre lembrarmos de onde tínhamos vindo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Mas eu não me recordo em qual momento você ficou pra trás, ou pode-se dizer,  em qual momento você ficou longe de mim?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Eu te chamei e você parecia não me ouvir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Eu te chamei e você parecia não QUERER me ouvir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;No meu medo corriqueiro, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;ajudar era voltar pra te buscar. Pegar pelas mãos ou empurrar se preciso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Na ansiedade costumeira, eu deveria continuar sozinha, mesmo sem o impulso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Seu cansaço.  Seu novo caminho. Sua espera por mim&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt; A distância não me deixava saber. Sua voz,  agora apenas um sussuro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Sob nossos pés,  um chão arenoso que fazia dos meus passos estranhos e difíceis. Me tornava lenta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Só assim me percebi sem fôlego.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Foi então  que parei mais uma vez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Assim, com o frio gelado subindo pela minha espinha, eu estou de pé, mas estou parada. Esperando o tal sopro quente e bom no meu pescoço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-3496036660681442701?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/3496036660681442701/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=3496036660681442701' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3496036660681442701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3496036660681442701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/09/como-joao-e-maria.html' title='João, Maria e o caminho.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-895367245678005395</id><published>2009-08-05T11:49:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T08:06:18.100-03:00</updated><title type='text'>sobre quebra-cabeças...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zo6S1taiawc/SJ878tcu65I/AAAAAAAAAI0/v_YDO8dsjLo/s320/puzzle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 305px; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zo6S1taiawc/SJ878tcu65I/AAAAAAAAAI0/v_YDO8dsjLo/s320/puzzle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Eu tenho um bichinho dentro de mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Faz das minhas pernas inquietas e minha mente devaneadora.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Rebelde, como antigas juventudes. Doído, como aquele siso que insistiu em nascer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Não é de silenciar, até quando a burrice o entedia e o medo o angustia (muito).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Faminto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Especialmente por pessoas.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Sim, músicas inspiram mas pessoas incitam; o faz ansiar conhecimento, quebrar a cabeça com as diversidades, dar cambalhotas por conversas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Insatisfeito. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;trás de todas possíveis respostas do mundo. I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;ndo de encontro com a falta de lógica para as impossíveis questões de SEU ou seria MEU (?) mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Não adormece quando preciso, tampouco tranquiliza quando seria tempo. Cruel e ditador. Faz de mim um eterno desencaixe, ou faz apenas com que me sinta assim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Eu tenho um bichinho dividido em mil. Verbos e adjetivos. Que se contradizem e não ornam. Que combinam e harmonizam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Faz da minha cara confusa, meu tempo questionável, de mim uma bagunça, e não é de estranhar que tudo isso não encaixe perfeitamente em lugar nenhum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;-macaquinhos no sotão, formigas no bum bum, minhocas na cabeça, curiosidade de gato, pensamento nas nuvens, caraminholas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-895367245678005395?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/895367245678005395/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=895367245678005395' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/895367245678005395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/895367245678005395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/08/sobre-quebra-cabecas.html' title='sobre quebra-cabeças...'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zo6S1taiawc/SJ878tcu65I/AAAAAAAAAI0/v_YDO8dsjLo/s72-c/puzzle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-4508883634562248528</id><published>2009-07-07T15:52:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T08:00:54.839-03:00</updated><title type='text'>o gato comeu?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://noreset.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/silencio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 297px; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://noreset.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/silencio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Vontade existia tanto&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;quanto a necessidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Porém sempre davam um jeito de parar por ali, literalmente entaladas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Som nenhum se ouvia, e não importava quantas vezes tenha&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;tentado limpar a garganta, tossir. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Contar até '3' e ja teriam se perdido no caminho. Pra variar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;O que impedia de sair afinal?? Qual medo as deixava tímidas, apenas na iminência de realmente não serem esquecidas ou perdidas??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Então pensa, todas&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;as possibilidades e impossibilidades. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Então ensaia, todos tons,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;caras e bocas possíveis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Sim, estão aqui, eu sei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Talvez um som de 'P' ou seria 'A'? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Aquele 'L' que quase escapa, um 'V' engolido de volta....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Palavras.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Eu não aprendi a falar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-4508883634562248528?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/4508883634562248528/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=4508883634562248528' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/4508883634562248528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/4508883634562248528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/07/o-gato-comeu.html' title='o gato comeu?'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-3965716471458075335</id><published>2009-06-05T10:07:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:55:20.805-03:00</updated><title type='text'>desajeito.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5KVhDWLd-N0/SVRJ1CHNtrI/AAAAAAAAAO4/cImkLP2_YhU/s400/2352347+escada,+espiral.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5KVhDWLd-N0/SVRJ1CHNtrI/AAAAAAAAAO4/cImkLP2_YhU/s400/2352347+escada,+espiral.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;E foi assim mesmo, entre os tropeços e batidas de cabeça usuais, entre meus arranhoes e roxos, sem ao menos estar pronta, eu continuei a andar ou posso dizer que comecei a andar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Eu pensei em nem tentar, pensei muito. Mas logo me vi levantando, de um jeito totalmente sem jeito, pra variar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Com a cabeça ainda baixa, eu enxergava algo ao fundo, longe, perdido em meio a tanta escuridão, longe mas lá permanecia. Eu realmente precisava alcançar aquilo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;E como chegar tão longe afinal, sem saber andar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;E como chegar tão longe afinal, com meu jeito sem jeito nenhum? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Então, numa piscada pelo meu corpo todo, estavam as marcas que não me deixavam esquecer nem por um instante o resultado de todo aquele desajeito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Talvez então aquilo ao fundo não exista. Apenas miragem causada pelo meu cansaço, pelas minhas frustações.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Talvez eu não precise mais andar, não tenha mais nada a alcançar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;E assim, entre o sopro quente e bom no meu pescoço e o frio gelado subindo pela minha espinha, eu estou de pé, sim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Mas estou&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;parada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;“Há alguma coisa aqui que me dá medo. Quando eu descobrir o que me assusta, saberei também o que amo aqui. O medo sempre me guiou para o que eu quero. E porque eu quero, temo. Muitas vezes foi o medo que me tomou pela mão e me levou”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Clarice Lispector&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-3965716471458075335?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/3965716471458075335/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=3965716471458075335' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3965716471458075335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3965716471458075335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/06/desajeito.html' title='desajeito.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5KVhDWLd-N0/SVRJ1CHNtrI/AAAAAAAAAO4/cImkLP2_YhU/s72-c/2352347+escada,+espiral.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-20139623766380148</id><published>2009-05-31T21:32:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:49:44.392-03:00</updated><title type='text'>ao risco iminente de um ataque de nervos...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SiMzR292OZI/AAAAAAAAARk/ZTQeE2WOx9g/s1600-h/lUIolay1f.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342169964897253778" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 200px; cursor: pointer; height: 122px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SiMzR292OZI/AAAAAAAAARk/ZTQeE2WOx9g/s200/lUIolay1f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Agora, eu trabalho e eu estudo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Aquilo tudo que minha mãe sempre esperava de mim, pra ficar tranquila, e com certeza pra ter a sensação de que finalmente eu encontrei um caminho certo, de que ELA me colocou no lugar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Para acalmar a expectativa e a pressão que todo mundo sofre da sociedade e da familia, de que tudo tem uma ordem, regras, que todos devemos continuar seguindo o fluxo, fazer como todas as pessoas sãs e normais fazem. Por que é assim que o mundo funciona.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Terminar os estudos, entrar em uma faculdade, arrumar um emprego....e assim vai, todo mundo conhece o 'caminho' a seguir, e devemos ficar felizes com isso. (porque a vida está andando no seu curso, como tem que ser. 0.O)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Mas eu não me sinto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;E se eu quiser fazer tudo diferente???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Eu faço tudo isso, mas eu não me sinto bem, não é o meu lugar, não me parece o MEU caminho e não é o que eu desejo pra mim. Aliás, eu nem sei o que eu desejo. Então eu continuo seguindo os trilhos, pra satisfazer e não decepcionar as pessoas pra variar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Eu posso trocar a ordem das coisas? Tirá-las do lugar e dar importâncias diferentes na minha vida??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Me parece que não. Não dá pra gente ser tão utópico assim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Por isso me sinto tão sempre a beira de um colapso interno, frustrada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;É claro que existem necessidades básicas. Eu TENHO que ter meu dinheiro, não depender de mamãe pro resto da vida, TER algum tipo de cultura, mesmo que nada disso seja meu plano de vida, não dá pra se viver do mundo da Lua. Não quero ser hipócrita e não sou tão idiota assim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Mas eu realmente queria inverter algumas coisas, não seguir o rumo de todo o mundo, que parece baixar suas cabeças e não QUESTIONAR se as coisas realmente precisariam ser assim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Sabe?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Eu queria tanto mudar o mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Conquistar o mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Nem que seja apenas o MEU mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;'..'Cause you can't jump the track&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;We're like cars on a cable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;No one can find the rewind button, girl.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-20139623766380148?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/20139623766380148/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=20139623766380148' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/20139623766380148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/20139623766380148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/05/ao-risco-eminente-de-um-ataque-de.html' title='ao risco iminente de um ataque de nervos...'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SiMzR292OZI/AAAAAAAAARk/ZTQeE2WOx9g/s72-c/lUIolay1f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-2388459018559492472</id><published>2009-05-19T15:02:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:47:07.564-03:00</updated><title type='text'>e uma cara embriagada no espelho do banheiro...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_130/1173932603xZ7Qhz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 350px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_130/1173932603xZ7Qhz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_130/1173932603xZ7Qhz.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu estou pagando tanto minha língua nesses ultimos anos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Acho que nunca estive tão carente ultimamente quanto agora. E eu não constumava ser uma pessoa muito sentimental, alias, sempre odiei grudes, carinhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Mas não consigo lembrar mais quando foi a ultima vez que eu ganhei um abraço de verdade. Um abraço forte. Um abraço forte e demorado. Um abraço forte, demorado, que nada precisa ser dito. Forte, demorado, que nada precisa ser dito, que te faz soltar aquele suspiro durante o tempo dos braços entrelaçados.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Mas abraço não é o tipo de coisa que se pede. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;É o tipo de coisa que faz o dia, faz parte, faz a diferença, faz a resolução, faz o complemento, faz a confirmação e a negação, faz a despedida, faz a esperança, faz o reencontro, faz o conforto, faz a desculpa, faz falta, faz todo o sentido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;...1 minuto sem explicações, conversas, discursos, brigas, lembranças, decisões. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;E é só o que eu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;preciso sentir. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;'eu que falei 'nem pensar', agora me arrependo roendo as unhas...'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&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/9065351647487954039-2388459018559492472?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/2388459018559492472/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=2388459018559492472' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/2388459018559492472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/2388459018559492472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-uma-cara-embriagada-no-espelho-do.html' title='e uma cara embriagada no espelho do banheiro...'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-6414818037647948797</id><published>2009-05-18T14:34:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:41:43.263-03:00</updated><title type='text'>o pior de mim.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;Eu estava pensando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;Por que a gente tem mais vontade de escrever quando triste?? Por que temos a necessidade de expressar coisas ruins sentidas ou angustias entaladas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;Acho que quando estamos felizes, ninguém pára pra pensar no quão boa é a sensação ou aquele momento. Ninguém reclama da felicidade, (ou reclama?). Nos lembramos de prestar atenção, quando aquilo já passou. Aí a gente lembra que sente, aí a gente apenas sente o ruim, do bom/otimo/feliz ter passado e você ao menos ter dado a real importância pra ele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;E então, parece que quando estamos mal, continuamos a procurar por qualquer outro cisco pras coisas piorarem, pra nos enterrar mais e mais no buraco escuro que a genta se encontra e que a gente mesmo se enfiou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;É meio que um ciclo, ou um vício.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;Talvez não faça muito sentido, mas pra mim faz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;Eu preciso de alguma forma deixar explodir todas essas coisas que eu sinto, porque eu não aguento mais fingir. Fingir o que eu sinto e o que eu não sinto, fingir o que eu gosto, fingir o que eu sou e o que eu não sou. E do que, de quem e por que eu tenho tanto medo e me escondo atrás proteção? Toda essa minha vida de aparências, que pouquíssimas pessoas conhecem ou até nenhuma delas conheça.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;Só não sei como, eu NUNCA sei como........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-6414818037647948797?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/6414818037647948797/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=6414818037647948797' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/6414818037647948797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/6414818037647948797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-pior-de-mim.html' title='o pior de mim.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-3723074942039851196</id><published>2009-05-10T02:36:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:40:41.594-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sensações de uma noite de sábado. [2]</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A sensação de precisar de um abraço demorado e silencioso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-3723074942039851196?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/3723074942039851196/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=3723074942039851196' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3723074942039851196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3723074942039851196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/05/sensacoes-de-uma-noite-de-sabado-2.html' title='Sensações de uma noite de sábado. [2]'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-962035069864254757</id><published>2009-05-10T01:47:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:39:58.156-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sensações de uma noite de sábado.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;É como se ninguém realmente me conhecesse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Sempre me perguntei se eu pertencia áquele lugar ou a algum lugar. Mas quando criança, era legal ser 'do contra', era divertido ser 'weird', não doía. Talvez essa sensação tivesse que passar depois dos 16 anos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Parece que estou sempre a procura de pessoas que consigam enxergar o que eu realmente sou. Ou a procura de pessoas que me respondam exatamente isso,  já que eu mesma me perco entre choros e sorrisos, pensamentos e atitudes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Sozinha, as vezes consigo me achar, não sei se gosto do que vejo.  Será que os outros gostariam/suportariam/aguentariam?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;solidão,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;tristeza,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;insatisfação,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;angustia,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;angustia,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;angustia,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;medo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;medo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;PERGUNTAS,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;pensamentos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;insonia, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;dor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;carência...etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;A sensação de deslocada/perdida/louca talvez me acompanhe pra sempre, não sei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Acho que tenho uma certa tendência em me aproximar/identificar com o drama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Tá estranho todo esse texto.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;....ou talvez seja só um sabado a noite, em que eu não saí e fiquei sozinha...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-962035069864254757?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/962035069864254757/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=962035069864254757' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/962035069864254757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/962035069864254757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/05/sensacoes-de-uma-noite-de-sabado.html' title='Sensações de uma noite de sábado.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-7928163591212453969</id><published>2009-03-20T01:57:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:38:47.319-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Malmequer.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ScMmr0WFvMI/AAAAAAAAAPc/2qxu3aAZumY/s1600-h/malmequer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315134519454842050" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 282px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ScMmr0WFvMI/AAAAAAAAAPc/2qxu3aAZumY/s400/malmequer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;fuçando meu antigo flog, achei esse texto que eu escrevi, acho que em 2005....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;engraçado como o tempo passa, TANTO na vida muda, mas os sentimentos mais íntimos parecem os de sempre. Ainda me enxergo a mesma destas palavras.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:courier new;" &gt;Nada mais satisfaz,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:courier new;" &gt;E nenhum brinquedo, – que quando criança fazia a diferença – deixa hoje com sensação de estar completa.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A cabeça funciona 24 horas:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E pede dias tristes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:courier new;" &gt;E fica CONFUSA!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Quer estar sozinha,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Quer mil mimos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sempre na frente do espelho a procura de defeitos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:courier new;" &gt;Sempre mergulhada em problemas pequenos.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mesmo parecendo a vida estar encontrando um rumo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;por que nada mais ME satisfaz?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;só pra constar (like always) : tempos atrás eu e o Rafa ficamos conversando sobre saudade e o portugês ser a única língua em que essa palavra existe. Porém ele me disse que realmente acha mais forte o termo 'miss you' (falta você) como algo que está incompleto, do que a NOSSA palavra-que-externa-sentimento. Enfim, fiquei pensando nisso agora.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Mas sendo saudade ou sendo a falta, o que não muda é: DÓI MTO, (por mais batido que seja!!) a gnt nunca vai estar preparado pra perder alguém; em qualquer categoria que esse alguém se encaixe na sua vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-7928163591212453969?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/7928163591212453969/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=7928163591212453969' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/7928163591212453969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/7928163591212453969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2009/03/fucando-meu-antigo-flog-achei-esse.html' title='Malmequer.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ScMmr0WFvMI/AAAAAAAAAPc/2qxu3aAZumY/s72-c/malmequer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-3919531490995351561</id><published>2008-10-27T10:45:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:37:13.203-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Devoradora de livros.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Descobri que ler, para mim, tornou-se o único momento em que eu deixo de pensar como eu mesma....e isso tem sido tão necessário e mto gratificante ultimamente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Gimme more livros!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-style: italic;"&gt;Pra eu não esquecer de novo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;- Fato 1, eu definitivamente não sou boa com as palavras. Taí uma pessoa que não consegue dizer o que quer nem escrevendo e muito menos agindo. O que eu faço pra conseguir expressar aquilo que realmente estou sentindo...all the time.?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-style: italic;"&gt;- Fato 2, eu melhorei, mas acho que pra sempre vou ficar sem graça com abraços, apesar de amá-los!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-style: italic;"&gt;- Fato 3: eu sou menos romantica do que imaginava mas já sabia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-3919531490995351561?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/3919531490995351561/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=3919531490995351561' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3919531490995351561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3919531490995351561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/10/devoradora-de-livros.html' title='Devoradora de livros.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-388534880702791739</id><published>2008-10-27T10:34:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:35:25.764-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Alguns pequenos vícios.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media.herald-dispatch.com/blog/tuned/uploaded_images/Seth-and-Summer-714728.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 470px; cursor: pointer; height: 721px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://media.herald-dispatch.com/blog/tuned/uploaded_images/Seth-and-Summer-714728.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SQW3TmnIoII/AAAAAAAAALw/AdVWKXQphE8/s1600-h/House_pills.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261813287062380674" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 279px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SQW3TmnIoII/AAAAAAAAALw/AdVWKXQphE8/s400/House_pills.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SQW3TfcVcGI/AAAAAAAAALo/w_v1Vt75CLk/s1600-h/heroes_s3_peter_1280.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261813285138034786" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SQW3TfcVcGI/AAAAAAAAALo/w_v1Vt75CLk/s400/heroes_s3_peter_1280.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SQW1yDOPemI/AAAAAAAAALY/rxnhggwlfJA/s1600-h/House_pills.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Cansei do post&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;aí embaixo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-388534880702791739?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/388534880702791739/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=388534880702791739' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/388534880702791739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/388534880702791739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/10/alguns-pequenos-vcios.html' title='Alguns pequenos vícios.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SQW3TmnIoII/AAAAAAAAALw/AdVWKXQphE8/s72-c/House_pills.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-4688040281987402566</id><published>2008-04-14T05:17:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:34:17.360-03:00</updated><title type='text'>'cause there's beauty in the breakdown.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SAMWQxrKCeI/AAAAAAAAAF4/wd1EdhcRJQ8/s1600-h/591579.gif"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189015673129011682" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 203px;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SAMWQxrKCeI/AAAAAAAAAF4/wd1EdhcRJQ8/s400/591579.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Se fosse por escolha não seria de vc que eu escolheria gostar.não msm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;e tbm não é por falta de vontade que eu ainda nao esqueci, pq pela minha eu ja teria esquecido, e motivos nao faltam. só que isso ainda nao aconteceu, e não sei se o fator tempo conta nessa historia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;mas cada dia eu entendo menus desse negocio de "gostar", desaprendo mais um pouco e me surpreendo com outro tanto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;simplesmente nao sei o "porquê",ou "como", ou pra onde 'isso" vai levar, mas é de vc que eu gosto, desse jeito aí. sem o meu orgulho de costume que seria bem PRECIOSO agora, sem escutar o "não pule" de todos, pq eu ja pulei faz MUITO tempo, e de certa forma sem me preocupar com o depois, (os "se"s, o sofrimento), tudo que antes eu me resguardava tanto para não sentir, por medo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;não sei msm porque todo esse texto, talvez pelo que acabei de falar, eu ja pulei e nao tenho mais nada a perder, um desabafo por nao entender como funciona isso de sentimentos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;só sei que eu fico com borboletas na barriga e aquele frio de quinta série ainda...e por vc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;bem estranhu esse negocio de "gostar".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-4688040281987402566?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/4688040281987402566/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=4688040281987402566' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/4688040281987402566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/4688040281987402566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/04/cause-theres-beauty-in-breakdown.html' title='&apos;cause there&apos;s beauty in the breakdown.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/SAMWQxrKCeI/AAAAAAAAAF4/wd1EdhcRJQ8/s72-c/591579.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-6601521664367056127</id><published>2008-03-29T03:41:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:33:12.452-03:00</updated><title type='text'>3 pontinhos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/R-3lZ37lK2I/AAAAAAAAAFI/EuyBDk7G4AA/s1600-h/im.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183050978846649186" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/R-3lZ37lK2I/AAAAAAAAAFI/EuyBDk7G4AA/s400/im.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;eu sou fraca...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-6601521664367056127?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/6601521664367056127/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=6601521664367056127' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/6601521664367056127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/6601521664367056127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/03/3-pontinhos.html' title='3 pontinhos'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/R-3lZ37lK2I/AAAAAAAAAFI/EuyBDk7G4AA/s72-c/im.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-4916919396305615654</id><published>2008-03-26T04:11:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:32:07.919-03:00</updated><title type='text'>You're not Seth Cohen...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3d2d932f20f2bd73" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3d2d932f20f2bd73%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330058335%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E604FED2568ECA044E25B9A9AFC064D8CC3D5D2.5621D900ADC9AB8E6506F0B2CC6890873895DA7A%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3d2d932f20f2bd73%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dn_aUZfwfE9Jk01HiTwYjMfz7l94&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3d2d932f20f2bd73%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330058335%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E604FED2568ECA044E25B9A9AFC064D8CC3D5D2.5621D900ADC9AB8E6506F0B2CC6890873895DA7A%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3d2d932f20f2bd73%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dn_aUZfwfE9Jk01HiTwYjMfz7l94&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" alt="" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Isa/CONFIG%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;E ninguém mais é.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I just cant take this anymore!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-4916919396305615654?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=3d2d932f20f2bd73&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/4916919396305615654/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=4916919396305615654' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/4916919396305615654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/4916919396305615654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/03/youre-not-seth-cohen.html' title='You&apos;re not Seth Cohen...'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-2994952786034001727</id><published>2008-03-26T03:35:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:30:18.401-03:00</updated><title type='text'>trabalhando com clichês.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/R-nw6n7lK0I/AAAAAAAAAE4/AQBLGHeWhfI/s1600-h/image.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181937736208427842" style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/R-nw6n7lK0I/AAAAAAAAAE4/AQBLGHeWhfI/s320/image.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;É triste ouvir as mesmas opinioes incansavelmente das pessoas....e eu fico torcendo para qu elas nao sejam verdadeiras,(afinal 99% nao é 100% !!!), para que o meu desejo, o meu pensamento, só ele esteja certo. Como diz a musica: para eu nao desistir dessa mínima esperanca que oscila em um fio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;porque eu tenho que ser POLLYANA em algum momento da minha vida e acreditar no "você atrai o que vc transmite", na "lei da atracao", no "segredo", e que everything is goona be all right, for me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;eu sei que nao faz mto sentido, mas faz pra mim.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-2994952786034001727?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/2994952786034001727/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=2994952786034001727' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/2994952786034001727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/2994952786034001727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/03/trabalhando-os-pensamentos.html' title='trabalhando com clichês.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/R-nw6n7lK0I/AAAAAAAAAE4/AQBLGHeWhfI/s72-c/image.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-951989418759642579</id><published>2008-03-19T02:30:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:28:56.269-03:00</updated><title type='text'>eu.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;eu sou movida a musicas, a filmes, a chocolates e a pessoas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;apesar da ultima a minha relaçao ser BEM complicada, porque eu nao sou boa em lidar com pessoas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;como ja disse odeio fazer novos amigos, odeio lugares cheios, mas odeio MTO MAIS ficar sozinha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;enfim..enquanto "to aprendendo tbm" a lidar com pessoas e fazer com que elas me movam SÓ pro bem, ainda existem as musicas, os filmes e os chocolates, que nao têm mistério nenhum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;(PRA EU ACREDITAR)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt; "as pessoas sao menos misteriosas do que pensam que são." elizabethtown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Minhas pessoazinhas que me movem, que sao meu "chão", me esperam com mil colos, porque essas foram como ACHADOS,  que simplesmente se encaixam no quebra-cabeca que eu sou. Essas eu nao precisei saber lidar, eles ja sabiam lidar comigo, como magica...enfim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;(PORQUE O FILME É TUDO e ESSA MUSICA ME FAZ QUERER ALGO ASSIM):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;"Your part time lover and a full time friend,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;The monkey on the back is the latest trend,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Don't see what anyone can see,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;In anyone else,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;But you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Here is a church and here is a steeple,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;We sure are cute for two ugly people,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Don't see what anyone can see,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;In anyone else,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;But you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;We both have shiny happy fits of rage,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I want more fans, you want more stage,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Don't see what anyone can see,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;In anyone else,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;But you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I'm always tryin to keep it real,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Now i'm in love with how you feel,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I don't see what anyone can see,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;In anyone else,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;But you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I kiss you on the brain in the shadow of the train,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I kiss you all starry eyed,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;My body swings from side to side,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I don't see what anyone can see,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;In anyone else,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;But you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;The pebbles forgive me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;The trees forgive me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;So why can't,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;You forgive me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I don't see what anyone can see,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;In anyone else,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;But you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Du du du du du du dudu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Du du du du du du dudu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I don't see what anyone can see,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;In anyone else,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;But you." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-951989418759642579?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/951989418759642579/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=951989418759642579' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/951989418759642579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/951989418759642579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/03/eu.html' title='eu.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-3499425794410220380</id><published>2008-03-10T19:49:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:27:21.436-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Nada mto importante.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;"Não quero alguém que morra de amor por mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Não tenho a pretensão de que todas as pessoas que gosto, gostem de mim.... nem que eu faça a falta que elas me fazem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;O importante pra mim é saber que eu, em algum momento, fui insubstituível...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;é que esse momento será inesquecível...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Só quero que meu sentimento seja valorizado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;...Quero poder ter a liberdade de dizer o que sinto a uma pessoa, de poder dizer a alguém o quanto ela é especial e importante pra mim, sem ter de me preocupar com terceiros ... Sem correr o risco de ferir uma ou mais pessoas com esse sentimento. Quero, um dia, poder dizer às pessoas que nada foi em vão ...que vale a pena se doar às amizades a às pessoas, que a vida é bela sim, e que eu sempre tentei dar o melhor de mim ... e que valeu a pena!!!..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-3499425794410220380?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/3499425794410220380/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=3499425794410220380' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3499425794410220380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/3499425794410220380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/03/nada-mto-importante.html' title='Nada mto importante.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-1799722587407554873</id><published>2008-02-18T00:46:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:26:17.569-03:00</updated><title type='text'>P.S.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;I don't have feelings....anymore. pra que te-los, afinal?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-1799722587407554873?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/1799722587407554873/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=1799722587407554873' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/1799722587407554873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/1799722587407554873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-dont-have-feelings.html' title='P.S.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-2125196907382445893</id><published>2008-02-18T00:00:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:24:22.836-03:00</updated><title type='text'>positivismo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Eu cansei de me lamentar, eu mesma me prometi nao focar só no ruim, no que nao dá certo, mas é dificil manter o pensamento positivo, o equilibrio, as esperancas e ser a eterna pollyanna quando tudo parece literalmente desmoronar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Ouvir de pessoas que realmente importam certas coisas, te faz questionar o tipo de humano que vc é!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Afinal, eu nao sou alguem bom como eu imaginava ser? Ou como "trabalho" pra ser?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;A minha visao e meus principios parecem destoar do resto. Sou eu que tenho que me adequar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;"Mas a culpa nao é só minha, eu JURO!". E eu tenho que parar de tentar convencer a todos e a mim que a culpa nao é só minha, porque ela realmente NAO É. As pessoas decepcionam também, mentem e sao ruins também. Eu nao sei se elas sao simplesmente assim ou se só estao tentando acertar como eu estou SEMPRE tentando, (mesmo que mal interpretada).&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Eu juro que no fim eu sé quero fazer tudo certo, mesmo que seja a little bit, acertar sometimes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;IM NOT A BAD PERSON.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-2125196907382445893?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/2125196907382445893/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=2125196907382445893' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/2125196907382445893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/2125196907382445893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/02/positivismo.html' title='positivismo.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-5085154619073287606</id><published>2008-02-10T05:10:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:23:18.686-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/R66jx87OlgI/AAAAAAAAAEk/e4vb4cAEgTw/s1600-h/i.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165245901204002306" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/R66jx87OlgI/AAAAAAAAAEk/e4vb4cAEgTw/s320/i.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Viciada em DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL. Ouça.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-5085154619073287606?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/5085154619073287606/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=5085154619073287606' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/5085154619073287606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/5085154619073287606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/02/viciada-em-dashboard-confessional.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/R66jx87OlgI/AAAAAAAAAEk/e4vb4cAEgTw/s72-c/i.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-8515759829299073485</id><published>2008-02-09T04:52:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:22:16.880-03:00</updated><title type='text'>preciso falar.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Chegou uma hora que eu precisava mudar, deixar meu orgulho de lado, quebrar os meus vários muros de proteção e deixar alguem se aproximar realmente de mim. E  isso aconteceu uma vez, e uma segunda vez...... Mas de novo, acho que chegou a hora de mudar, voltar ao velho orgulho, (ou nao tanto assim), construir mais um muro de protecao pra nao dexar alguem se aproximar de mim tao cedo agora, pelo menos até eu resgatar esse meu amor próprio que está faltandoo nesses ultimos tempos! Até doer um pouco menos, ou nao doer mais nada. É decepcionante quando a gente fica exposto, (pelo menos pra mim que nao costumo entrar de cabeca), sem muros ou mascaras, somente com aquele sentimento de que vai dar certo, porque é recíproco, porque vale a pena. Mas a cegueira daquela felicidade momentanea nao deixa você enxergar que talvez nao é assim tao reciproco. E aí vem o tombo. E a gente custa a enxergar, porque dói, porque vc quer, porque vc gosta; mas isso nao depende só de vc.&lt;br /&gt;É aí que entra o amor proprio e a velha ana luísa. Tá na hora. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-8515759829299073485?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/8515759829299073485/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=8515759829299073485' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/8515759829299073485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/8515759829299073485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/02/preciso-falar.html' title='preciso falar.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9065351647487954039.post-6056300534897627340</id><published>2008-02-09T04:10:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T07:21:18.219-03:00</updated><title type='text'>vontade.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Vontade de escrever sobre as grandes noites de insonia que eu tenho e a cabeca nao pára um minuto&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;onde a melhor opcao é: continuar me obrigando a TENTAR dormir ou externar de vez, pra ver se "sai" literalmente da cabeca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Mas avisando, eu nao escrevo bem, daqueles textos metaforicos ou filosoficos que fazem a gente pensar, nao que eu nao goste de textos assim, alias, os adoro, desde que nao sejam cliches ou de teorias baratas, (coisa que assumo,  eu mesma sou cheia de "chavoes"), e dá até aquela pontinha de : "Por que eu nao sei me expressar assim?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Alem de nao ser boa com textos, eu nao sou boa com palavras, nenhum pouco boa por assim dizer. Aquela velha historia da pessoa nao comunicativa, timida, travada mesmo, sabe!? Eu sou daquelas que se passa por anti-social, quietinha ou santa; acho totalmente constrangedor fazer novos amigos, morro de medo de lugares novos e nao sei demonstrar qualquer tipo de sentimento ou afeto em relacionamentos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;E o que uma pessoa assim faz no mundo??? Se ferra!!! ahahau rindo pra nao chorar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Porque o all the time eu tenho que enfrentar esses meus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;piores sentimentos, e na marra!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Porque senao eu nao vivo, e eu ja cansei TANTO de nao viver certas coisas por causa disso. Na hora de arrumar um emprego novo, na hora de viajar sozinha, na hora de comecar a estudar novamente, na hora de estar do lado de alguem que faça a diferenca, maldita timidez, maldito medo, maldita falta dw adaptacao!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Vontade de eu mesma me choacoalhar e dizer :"VAMOS ANA, PEGA NO TRANCO, DÁ A CARA PRA BATER UM POUCO!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Me privar de sofrer antes, sempre me fez sofrer mais ainda depois, entao de que adianta??????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9065351647487954039-6056300534897627340?l=ninhaloro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/feeds/6056300534897627340/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9065351647487954039&amp;postID=6056300534897627340' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/6056300534897627340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9065351647487954039/posts/default/6056300534897627340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ninhaloro.blogspot.com/2008/02/vontade.html' title='vontade.'/><author><name>Ana Luísa.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15669788525285356265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WhmSmNfQuW4/ShI2bd4N6FI/AAAAAAAAARE/MsoXVehiAqs/S220/Picture+034(4).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
